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vanilleandclove · 2 months ago

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we’re chained; jack abbot x f!trauma surgeon!reader

in your twenties you took a chance at the brooding attending in the emergency department despite your modus operandi of never bringing your personal life into your career. luckily, jack abbot doesn’t either. only until that becomes a problem. key moments in your relationship with mr. jack abbot.

warnings: soft and filthy smut, crying during/ after sex, ptsd, arguments about state of relationship (this is based on an actual convo i had with a man lol), angst, heather and robby situationship, reader has a sister, alcohol consumption- covid, death, anti-vaxx views mentioned, I AM A DOC MARTENS BEX CONNOISSEUR- i hiked in them, trump is unfortunately canon, age gap: reader is mid 20s, jack early 40s. word count: 5.3k notes: situationships are my version of vietnam, listen to solo by frank ocean and hey by the pixies. oh they are so every breath you take by the police. also the reader is canonically a millennial mb.

next - thank you anon

august 20, 2015

“Doctor L/n, how do you treat compartment syndrome?” a voice pulled you out of your thoughts, severely regretting the only four hours of sleep given to you and shots of tequila with a girl you met at a bar down the street from your apartment.

“Fasciotomy with ortho consulting” you answered, the bright white LED lights did nothing to remedy the pounding headache.

“Half correct, do you know why?” Doctor Adamson instigated, he was the senior attending for Pittsburgh Trauma, after seeing the look on your face and four of your colleagues, he chose to answer himself “Trauma surgeons are the bottom of the food chain, work far more hours, earn less, specialize in all- if you’re lucky, you’ll get a consult, other than that, you’re on your own” his eyes bore into you, “Now, Doctor Greene is the surgical mentor for prospective trauma surgeons, he works with me, throughout your residency you will rotate through every specialty, remember, residents do not specialize. You change your path at any time, usually trauma only gets and accepts one fellow. Since you’re getting a taste of trauma today, your attendings are Doctor Robinavitch and Doctor Abbot, they’ve been attendings for a bit, they rule in my stead” Adamson continued on, “Your shift starts now and ends in 12 hours, best of luck”.

“Chopra and L/n, you’re with me, Sawyer and Tate, you’re with Doctor Robby” Doctor Abbot read off a chart, you and Amina Chopra were the only women in the residency program for both physician and surgical- at least first year wise.

“Jesus it’s like they hire based on looks” Amina turned to you with a smile on her face, “John Hopkins, you?”.

“Boston U” you answered, walking up to Doctor Abbot with her.

“Normally they don’t hand off surgery to us, last week we had the new interns and med students- it was a bit chaotic but since you’re both surgical junkies, I’ll guess you’re used to it” Doctor Abbot explained, “Also, best of luck to you two, upstairs is nothing but a sausage fest”.

Amina laughed a little too prolonged and loud, “Amina Chopra, graduated top 30 at John Hopkins, interned at University of Maryland” she blurted, her eyelashes fluttering.

Doctor Abbot spared a confused glance, tilting his head with feigned curiosity, “And you?” pointing his pen to you.

“Y/n L/n, dual-enrolled in medical school during undergrad at Boston University, interned at Mass-Gen” you confessed, only gaining an impressed look from both of them.

“Explains why your file says 23” Doctor Abbot responded, “Okay, this is Bridget, our charge nurse, she’s filling in for Dana who’s on maternity leave” he pointed as Bridget lightly waved with the phone tucked in her shoulder.

“Stabbing victims from a domestic dispute 6 minutes out” Bridget told him.

“Alright, trauma rooms are usually always available, boarding isn’t as common here unless there’s a holiday or Steelers game” he explained, “Your best friend is going to be these” Doctor Abbot pulled a pair of blades from his front pocket “I carry extra 11 and 15 blades, y’never know when shit is going to hit the fan”.

That was your first impression of Jack Abbot. His first impressed impression of you was when you were the only one who stopped a bleeder in the trauma room, the blood coated your gown and Amina’s face, you took charge of the trauma room as most just stood there.

Then came the nickname, Rambo.

october 20, 2015

“Do you know Pixies Doctor Abbot?” you broke the ice as you walked side by side, the cold air Pittsburgh and your lack of a sweater but mediocre layering did not provide the warmth needed. Your nipples became painfully erect and the slightest graze would bring both pleasure and pain.

“Okay one, we’re off clock just call me Jack” he chuckled, “Secondly of course your Mass-ass would ask that, thirdly, how old do you think I am?” he continued to joke.

The low-rise, tight, dark wash, denim jeans and the long sleeve undershirt with a tight fit short sleeve paired with black Doc Martens Bex shoes intrigued Jack as the past months he’s only seen you in black scrubs and sneakers- or your Bexs, like today. As did the navy blue loose shirt and light wash denim intrigued you. His camouflage backpack slung over his shoulder and your black Jansport knocked each other every other move.

“Okay… favorite song?” you asked, as you both stopped at an ice cream parlor just down the street from your apartment and Jack’s house that was a few blocks further.

“Hey” he answered, “Yours?”.

“Where Is My Mind” you responded, “Favorite band?”. You stared in his eyes as you waited for a response, a group of teenagers were in front of you both ordering.

“Pearl Jam”.

“Spoken like a true old man” you smiled, “Favorite Pearl Jam song?”.

“Uh uh, what’s your favorite band Rambo?”.

“Alice in Chains, my dad bought the Dirt CD when I was born” you answered, “Now?”.

“Trick question, it’s in between Last Kiss or Elderly Woman” he answered, his eyes not leaving yours, just in time for you both to order.

“How can I help you guys today?” the server asked, a smile on her face.

“May I get a double scoop on a cone of rocky road?” you asked, moving over for Jack.

“I’ll take a double scoop on a cone too with pistachio cream and pecan delight please” he answered as he scooted to pay, giving the girl a 10 dollar tip in cash- she almost refused before he insisted.

You continued your walk, the ice cream melting as you walked on. Your nose was cold and red beneath your makeup, you felt it become wet from the temperature. Jack laughed as you raced against the clock to finish your double scoop.

The pizza place next door to your apartment had music playing as couples and families sat together both inside and outside, the song was almost coincidental, Elderly Woman Behind the Counter In a Small Town by Pearl Jam. You smiled, wondering as Jack noticed.

“I guess today’s working in your favor” you looked up at him as he discarded the napkin in his hand. You came to a halt, selfishly wanting to spend more time with him.

He lightly smiled, “I guess so” you both stared into each other’s eyes as Eddie Vedder’s voice sang in the background, you didn’t dare to blink, fearing he’d disappear.

You breath sped up as your heart raced, the cold freezing your hands but Jack’s warmth radiated off of him. A human furnace. You licked your lips as if it was a hint, a hint he gladly took as his hand went up to your cheek to move your hair out of the way, wiping the residue of rocky road from the corner of your lip. His thumb lightly grazed your bottom lip as you internally pleaded for him to take action.

It was instant, as if you were magnetic. A beautiful collision to a supernova, as your lips collided and fought for dominance, you quickly surrendered.

“Come up with me” you whispered against his lips, he held you by your back. He exhaled deeply, craving you.

It took five minutes to get to your unit and crash on your couch with him, you were on top of him, legs on both sides of his waist as his hands found purchase underneath your shirts.

“Do you have a condom?” you asked in between kisses, Jack nodded against your lips as he unclipped your bra, his thumbs grazing your hard nipples, gaining a moan from you.

“Are you sure you want this?”.

“I’m not a virgin if that’s what you’re getting at” you backed up, grabbing the lower hem of your shirts to take off, shrugging your bra off with it and throwing them across your small living you, the look on Jack’s face was one of hunger. “Why?”.

“You can always back out if you want” he told you, groping your tits once more as he pulled you down to suck on your nipples. He felt the clench of your pussy through his jeans as his leg and prosthetic supported you.

You backed away in order to take off his shirt, revealing his sculpted body and freckled, scarred skin. Tales of war and life littered his torso, you only got more and more turned on from seeing him beneath you. You moved off in order to take off your jeans, the denim sticking to your skin. Jack sat up, taking your hips into his hands as he looked at your thin cotton panties, and the damp spot that formed. He kissed your navel, hipbones and thighs, purposely withholding your aching pussy. Your hands found their way to his curled brunette- a tad ginger hair that had a few greys peaking in, squeezing his nape as his mouth covered your pussy over your panties.

Moans flower out of your mouth as instinct, pulling at the loose curls in the back of Jack’s head, earning a groan from him. His fingers crawled up to the hem of your underwear, pulling them down to reveal your glistening lips. He looked back up to you, your eyes watering from the tiniest amount of pleasure his tongue gave you. He stood up, jeans still on his body as his cock strained against the denim. Your hand cupping him, a smirk gathered on your face.

You walked him to your bedroom that overlooked the sidewalk, you drew your curtains before sitting down on the edge of your bed. You undid his belt, just about to pull his jeans down, his hand stopped you. A wave of insecurity followed upon Jack as his prosthetic got caught on the denim, he shook it off as he proceeded to take off his jeans, slinging them on the floor with his foot. His briefs revealed the hard-on you had given him, his hands going to take it off once more. Your legs screwed shut in a mix of fear and sexual frustration.

Jack’s bigger than the other men you have taken. Way bigger. Girth wise you almost prayed in solidarity for your vagina.

“You okay?” he breathed, gaining a nod from you, his hand cupped your cheek, angling your head up, “Say it”.

“I’m okay” you answered, you were hungry, feverish even.

He satiated your thirst and hunger, again and again. Not a care for your neighbors, your bedsheets, your apartment that smelt like candle wax that drizzled down your bodies, the sun that peaked through in the morning as he took his leave while you slept.

Leaving you confused with a significant ache between your thighs and knees.

october 31, 2015

Jane Doe was all you could get from the 29 year old woman who was hit by a drunk driver at an intersection, it was 10 pm and already overtime. Except you were the one who volunteered to be oncall last week.

You were stubborn she could be brought back even despite her organs failing. She was the same age as your sister.

“L/n it’s a lost cause, step aside” Abbot’s stern voice broke through your ears as you kept on resuscitating the young Jane Doe, “Doctor L/n step down” he pressed further, attempting to grab your hand to pull you off only to be elbowed in the nose. Your ears kept ringing and you couldn’t differentiate the flatline from the minor tinnitus, “Fuck” he groaned, just before he locked your arms above your head.

The flatline blared out in the room as it was just you, Jack, and Jane Doe, your face red with anger and resentment, just as red as the blood that gushed out of Jack’s nose. Jack reached over above your head to trigger the alarms to silence, you were the first to make a sound, a sucked in breath followed by a light wail.

Was it the dead woman who reminded you of your sister? The fact that Jack fucked you 11 days ago and has since ignored you profusely? The overwhelming flow of trauma the past hour that has since died down? Or was it you? You and your inappropriate feelings for your attending that surfaced when he kissed your forehead as you came, the feelings when he kissed your breasts and fondled them like no man ever did, when he stared into your eyes as his thumb and index finger pinched your clit with precision as he other hand was occupied in your throbbing heat. The vibrant hickeys that have now faded to a whisper of what they once were.

“Go home” Jack stated, pulling you away from your thoughts, “I’ll have you reassigned by the turn of the week” he cleared his throat.

You shook your head, “I’m finishing my shift and getting the fuck out of here” you wiped your tears and pushed the doors wide open, finding solace in an empty patient room.

Then the curtain was pulled back by none other than Robby, “Do I even wanna know why Abbot’s bleeding and you’re crying like a puppy just died?”.

Your throat was burning and sore, the eyeliner that coated your waterline was smeared and running. You pressed your lips into a tiny line, “It’s nothing” your emotions forbade you from speaking any higher, or even adequately communicating.

“Doctor Greene wants you to scrub in for thoracotomy, you sure it’s nothing Rambo?” his eyebrow raised, “You did good tonight, if anything, we learned a lot from you”.

You nodded as a way of thanking him before getting up from the bed you sat on, the world kept spinning even after the one-night stand of your life.

december 20, 2015

“Well honey how’s residency going?” your mom asked, “Meet anyone?” She was wrapping presents as Notting Hill played in the back.

There was Jack, who you’ve had the displeasure of working with the past week. He grilled into you hard, only for two days ago, he took you into the supply closet and fucked you. Neither of you spoke of it, you had a bruise on your ass from the metal digging into your skin, Jack’s hand gripped onto the railing and bent the metal.

“It’s going well I think, Amina is nice we go

out every Friday for celebratory drinks. We’re the only female first years”.

“You’re hiding something” she pointed out, seeing your cheeks flush, “Who’s the guy?”.

Motherly intuition.

“There is no guy- at least officially”.

“Y/n! Please tell me you’re being safe about it” she sighed in disbelief, chuckling lightly.

“I am! We are!” you confessed.

You sent nudes to him, the dirtiest shit imaginable. He left his dog tags at your apartment yesterday before he left, today you wore them and sent a photo with just them on. Put him in a frenzy for hours. By Christmas he was begging you to come back to Pittsburgh as soon as possible.

The first time you spent the night at his house was December 26, 2015, he picked you up from the airport. A little hurt by the fact that he’d go out of his way just for sex. Work and interpersonal relationships only cloud the mind you kept telling yourself.

july 4, 2016

You never mentioned or asked about Jack’s years in the Marines, afraid it wasn’t your place.

So, in Independence Day fashion, after work you let him stay at your apartment. The firework show took place next to your apartment, you had bought ear plugs just in case.

It wasn’t the firework show that freaked him, if anything it sent off his heart to beat a little faster but nothing too serious. It was the illegal fireworks people threw while he was deep inside of you.

“Don’t stop please” your nails dug into his back, eyes rolling back, your window was open for fresh air just as you heard a whistle. You turned your head, hearing the sound whistle come from outside, paying no mind as you were just about to cum.

Just as an M-80 bursted in the air setting off car alarms in the surrounding area and for Jack to immediately pull out of you and shield your head.

He stood there, guarding you as another M-100 and some firecrackers went off. When you tried to move he gripped your arm immediately, tightly, his brain was on autopilot.

“Jack let go please” you pleaded, his hand was gripping onto your bone at that point and it hurt, “Jack” you repeated, his pupils blown out and his skin began to sweat as his breathing became uneven.

You couldn’t move neither could he, you wrapped your hand around the one that gripped your arm painfully, staring into his eyes even if he couldn’t concentrate or control himself. The feeling of your hand led him to grip onto your shoulder tightly, painfully.

And for the first time, Jack frightened you.

“Jack” you whispered, your eyes swelling up with tears even as you fought it off, the death grip he had on your arm and shoulder hurt. “C’mon come back to me” you pleaded, then you figured it out. “Hey Siri, play Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in A Small Town by Pearl Jam” you announced, your phone luckily catching it as the song played softly, enough to be heard.

You tried to lean in for a kiss only for Jack to regain control from the familiarity. Bruises starting to form on your arm and shoulder, you thought nothing of it as he came back to you.

jack’s 40th birthday - 2017

The first time Jack let you in was the night of his 40th, he had gone out with Robby and some other friends to a sports bar. By the end of the night you were on his mind.

Not the fact that you bypassed his alarm system and stood in his kitchen at 1 am the night of when he got home in nothing but aquamarine lingerie with a cupcake and candle in hand.

He smiled at the sight and craziness, as much as he did crave you, he was tired. So instead of sex, you put on his spare clothes and cuddled up on the couches watching a replay of the Pirates v. Cubs that you missed. He played with your styled hair, as your legs intertwined with each other, the cool metal sending goosebumps all over your skin.

He thought you were asleep when he said I love you.

You weren’t but, you also knew about the amount of beers in his system and the fact that you weren’t dating. Just fucking with a few extra steps.

Though the next morning you made sure to put the aquamarine lingerie to good use.

january 20, 2018

The first big argument you had was just as your residency was about to end and you had to apply to fellowships across the nation, you knew you’d get the Pitt guaranteed, you were the only one that stuck to trauma. But it was the formality that you were following.

So when Jack found out you had offers on the East Coast and not once told him, he flipped out when you stayed the night.

“Jack, it's my career!” you shouted, you first started fighting in the backyard patio, now you were both in the bathroom as he brushed his teeth, the towels from the shower you both took hung on your body, “It’s a formality to apply- they pay me to go there and tour”.

“I just don’t see why there’s a need” he shook his head as he spat out the toothpaste.

“Bullshit, when you were in my place you applied elsewhere too” you raked your fingers through your hair, you felt like shit, like he was undermining your career that you built for yourself, “There’s a need because I’m gifted Jack, you were once in my shoes, I would think you’d be more understanding than this”.

“I am understanding, what I don’t get is why that far?”.

“It’s not binding for fucks sakes” you repeated yourself for the past hour, now you were at your wits end, “I’m not staying to fill some sort of void within you Jack, if I stay it’s for the betterment of myself and my career”.

You wanted to break him for making you feel like you were betraying him from a possibility. To make him feel what he was making you feel. Only thing was you were breaking both of you, not for the greater good, not for yourself or him, for approval that you were enough.

All he could give was a nod, he walked out of the en-suite. Grabbed a few clothes to throw on and slammed the dresser and door. You followed suit as he put shoes on and went to the key rack.

“Where are you going?”.

“I need a breather” he curtly replied, not sparing a glance at you once, a faint sniffle emitted from him.

“And that’s where?”.

“If you thought for even a second that this” he pointed between both of you, “Was filling a ‘void’ within me you’re completely fucking mistaken” he cursed, “I’m leaving, you can go to California for all I fucking care”.

You scoffed in his face, refusing to break, “What did you even want from this huh?” you egged on, “Sex and ‘I love you’s’ without any form of attachment? You lead me on 3- almost 4 years and keep me here ‘cuz I’m good fuck?”.

“We agreed to this!” he became irritated, “You’re the one who insisted that a relationship is only going make it complicated just for sex to be fucking complicated” his blood ran hot, “I have been willing to spare my feelings to cater to you and your lack of commitment with this, now you want to leave”.

“It’s a fellowship Jack! It’s a year!” you groaned, “I didn’t think you needed titles and stone cold definitive answers for you to know I love you” you blurted. You never once told him you loved him, whenever he told you he was under the impression you were asleep or unaware.

He was stunned at first, “I can’t do this right now with you” he continued on with leaving.

You wouldn’t see him for another four hours, by the time it reached 12 am you were worried he got into a bar fight, car crash, got shot in an accident- you were paranoid beyond words and reduced to tears.

When Jack came back home he shot you a text, ‘Come outside’. It was freezing and you still went anyway, seeing him sit on his truck bed opening in his driveway.

You took the spot next to him, shivering slightly. “I haven’t felt this way about someone in my life since…” Jack trailed on, “I want you to further your career, I want you to accomplish fucking feats in trauma surgery. Just as much as I want to go home with you or to you. I can’t be selfish about it, but I am, and it’s not fair to you”.

“I want to stay”.

“But-“.

“I want to stay” you repeated, “It’s not entirely because of you, it’s because of this” you used your finger to draw a circle in the air, “As of right now they’re are 7.6 billion people in this world and only one of them I can be everything I want to be with” you cheekily confessed, “So it’s ‘but’ nothing. I’ve been wanting to be with you since I met you. I just thought people would think it’s preferential treatment and I fucked my way up”.

“I can’t hold you back”.

“You’ve taught me enough to blow those fucking boards and competency exams through the roof- I mean I did a lot of the work but you are quite the teacher” you responded, “Plus, when you’re frail and old we can go to California”.

Jack laughed, you spent the rest of the night cuddling, just before you lightly slapped him for worrying you.

december 24, 2018

It was your first Christmas together. You told your parents there was no possibility of you being able to go, the ED is always swamped during the holiday season. You and Jack had a promise to keep: home by 1 am, warm shower together then presents and maybe sex unless you both crash.

It was 11 pm and your hand was deep in a man’s chest cavity, “Push another round of epi” you demanded, Greene nowhere to be found, you were just a fellow, technically not fully authorized to perform surgery especially in a trauma room.

“Okay no everyone stop, push local anesthesia, I’m going in, I need new gloves and protection glasses now” you demanded, getting a few looks from the interns.

“Y/n cardio is swamped, now’s not the time for a cardiac ablation, especially here” Princess muttered to you, you looked up.

“Seal off the doors, I want only authorized personnel in here only, call Greene, tell him I’m doing a cardiac ablation, our patient has an irregular heartbeat, I need to control that before anything else, I’m going to close him up” you instructed, “Princess please get me a catheter with electrodes”.

“Abbot has them next door” she responded, you looked at the nurse on the phone.

“Call Abbot and tell him I need a catheter with electrodes immediately, he’s authorized to come in”.

“What the fuck is she doing?” Jack cursed under his breath as he made his way downstairs, seeing you close up the Santa impersonator. “Cardiac ablation?”.

You nodded, “Patients stable and closed up, Jesse cut off his pants for me” you told him.

“Can I stay to watch?” he breathed your neck, handing you the catheter.

“Not too close or else I’ll be sticking this in you” you murmured back, Jack took his place next to the monitors.

“I need all the interns to the back, you may not get any closer than that, if you’re paged I’ll clear it later” you shouted, Princess handed you your 11-blade as well as moved the stray pieces of hair.

You made the incision on the groin, inserting the catheter while applying cryoablation. As the scar tissue formed, his arrhythmia stopped completely and he was stabilized, you did it within 10 minutes in complete silence.

“I know you did not just perform surgery unauthorized in a non-sterile trauma room” Gloria’s voice boomed none less than a minute after, the entire floor heard her grilling into you.

All you could do was laugh at it, you saved a man’s life and cured his arrhythmia, he was conscious before your shift ended and gave his thanks, luckily, he didn’t need a pacemaker. He did guarantee that when and if you have kids, he’ll be glad to be Santa for them.

The drive home was quiet as it was 3:40 am in Pittsburgh, snowing and windy. Jack and you took separate cars and he made it home before you. You cursed today as your back and feet hurt, you bruised your hand twice over, and you missed the celebration with Jack.

When you parked next to Jack’s truck in the driveway, the garage being a mess from the Christmas bins being everywhere, you could almost crash, but you’d prefer Jack’s warmth over suffocating in a car so you opened the garage door and went inside.

Greeted with candles and rose petals all over the place as Frank Sinatra’s rendition of The Christmas Song played. You could cry right then and there when you turned your head to face the living room, seeing the fireplace burn and the Christmas tree lit.

Jack’s hands found their way to your coat, startled for a second from wondering where the hell he came from. He took it off, hung it on the coat rack and let you walk through the house.

“There’s a bath drawn with your name on it Rambo” he whispered in your ear as he ghosted a kiss on your neck, you giggled from not having heard that nickname in over a year. “After we can drink that wine you’ve been talking about the past week, open a few presents…”.

“Wait for me?” you whispered back.

“Always”.

You didn’t make it to open presents, falling asleep on the couch on top of Jack after two glasses of wine. Thankfully, that didn’t become a tradition, you made it a habit to take day shifts during holidays. The next year he gave you an all-inclusive spa membership, you got him a new grill. It was a quiet moment for you both every year, a comforting quiet moment.

august 20, 2020

“You’re working tonight baby?” you questioned, as you poured two cups of hot cocoa for Jack’s niece and nephew. Jack placed a kiss on your cheek.

Since the pandemic, you were hardly working, they strictly put surgical teams as oncall only as a safety measure. But you saw the strain on Jack. So when his brother insisted on breaking lockdown protocols and having his children stay over, he was displeased and stressed.

“Yeah, Adamson’s not doing well, Robby wants me to rotate out with him” he told you, “I think him and Collins are a thing” he chose to gossip.

You scoffed, “After all the shit he gave you for being with me he does that? At least we were in different departments but they better hope no one finds out” you then added, “But I do love Heather so good for him”.

Jack smiled before looking at you a tad bit more seriously, “I may be back tomorrow or in two days, you think you can drop them off at my brothers?”.

“Yeah might just force them to get vaccinated too” you tried to lighten the mood, “Seriously they’re the first to come to you for medical advice but when it comes to preventive medicine they get psyched out” you sighed.

“Trust me I know” he shook his head, there was a comfortable pause between the two of you, one of knowing and begging to be safe, “I love you”.

“I love you” you replied before kissing him, “Stay safe please hon” he bid his farewells to his niece and nephew who were engulfed in monopoly on the island counter.

When he came home, he broke the news about Adamson, spent the day holding you in bed as his brother bit the bullet and picked the kids up. You were worried about Jack’s health with the sleepless nights, he insisted you were becoming stir crazy. The next week you had six surgeries, Greene would’ve assisted you but he retired the month before, leaving the trauma department to you.

dividers by @cafekitsune

#jack abbot #jack abbot x reader #jack abbot smut #jack abbot angst #the pitt #michael robinavitch #the pitt x reader #x reader #shawn hatosy #vanilleandclove

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mushroomcrepe · 3 months ago

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His face is so relatable because you can be a very intelligent person all you want, HOW can you predict your ennemis made it a priority to build a perfectly functional tunnel all the way to your ass ??

They fought Stanley because they wanted to keep a plane ??? They were under the pressure of "i can come back and kill any of you any second" and their reaction was "well, gotta make sure i can use my plane on my boat" like ????

They saw the most obvious spy ever, let her come in, and found a way to make her change teams (they were trained personally by Gen).

They saw their ennemis were the very elite of the american army, and thought "yeah we gonna fight against them in a plane duel, and use our spears against their AK47" and it kinda worked (Stanley being undefeated is another story).

They dug a TUNNEL all the way under the castle to kidnap Xeno. HOW can you even think it's something that could happen. Xeno didn't loose (not really a loss, but not a win either) because the others are smarter, he lost because the others are batshit crazy and chaotic 24h/24. He literally can't predict their next move, no matter how smart his 4d chess plan is.

America lost the moment they let Gen walk freely in the castle anyway.

#dr stone #dcst #ishigami senku #asagiri gen #xeno wingfield #dr xeno #stanley snyder

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evil-swan-witch · 5 months ago

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james: I know every song to ever exist it doesn't matter if it's from the past, present or the future.

freddie: Oh yeah? Then continue this.

freddie: I don't cook I don't clean-

james: So let me tell you how I got this ring.

james and freddie: .....

james and freddie: GOBBLE ME, SWALLOW ME-

#they are so chaotic #both of them need help #james potter ii #james sirius potter #freddie weasley #fred weasley 2 #hp next gen #harry potter next generation #harry potter

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dollishmehrayan · 6 months ago

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# “THE WOMAN WAS TOO STUNNED TO SPEAK…” ── .✦ ( batboys w an unhinged!reader and blunt!reader )

a/n: this is from my little brain of mine , and I like to honor it for @kyriakis anywhoo I’m back and omg 1k?! Alsoo guys dw! I’m gonna do the event tomorrow && I’m gonna pick out some prompts I have organized, so i didn't forget okay but i just got a lot of DMs asking when I’m gonna do it for you guyss so yeah it’s gonna be tomorrow since I’m gonna re-edit + add some ideas of your guys votes!! Tags: (batboys x unhinged!reader)

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

He’s always caught off guard but loves it. Your bluntness is a breath of fresh air for Dick, who’s so used to diplomatic conversations. You say whatever’s on your mind with zero filter, and he’s like, “Oh, wow. Okay. I respect it.”

Hates it when you don’t hold back with him. He’s used to being the charming, funny guy who makes everyone laugh, but you hit him with a “That was dumb, don’t do that again” and his brain short circuits for a second. “You can’t just say that!” “Why not?”

Finds it hilarious when you wreck other people’s egos. You have zero time for anyone’s nonsense, and when someone messes up, you let them know. Dick’s in the background, trying not to laugh. “Do you not think before you speak?!…” He’s always acts so shocked but hey, he’s kinda enjoying it unless it’s aimed at him. (He can’t fight verbally for the life of him without saying some cringe shit)

Doesn’t even try to change you. Dick knows what he’s getting into, and he loves you for it. He’s never going to ask you to ‘tone it down.’ He actually finds your unapologetic attitude pretty hot.

He’s 50% worried you’ll get into trouble, 50% impressed. But in the end, he’ll always back you up, saying, “She’s just honest. Get used to it.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Finally, someone who speaks his language. Jason lives for the fact that you don’t care what people think. He loves how blunt you are, especially when you cut through the BS with the precision of a sharp knife.

Gets protective when people try to push your boundaries. If someone dares disrespect you, Jason’s the first one to step in. “You’ve got a problem with her? You’ve got a problem with me.”, “Jason that was so fucking cringey..”

Appreciates that you don't sugarcoat things for him. You’ll tell him exactly how it is, whether it’s about his attitude or a bad decision he made, and he respects it, it’s like the tt sound where “that’s when it hit me, it was the best idea I ever had..” but like this: “Not gonna lie, that was a terrible plan, Jay,” and he’ll just nod. “Fair.”

You guys have the most chaotic, weirdest conversations. It’s a mix of witty banter, ridiculous one-liners, and deadpan sarcasm. Other people can’t even keep up with the energy.

The idea of dating a ‘good girl’ never appealed to him anyway. He thrives off your unhinged energy. You’re unpredictable, and it keeps him on his toes, which he loves. “Yeah, you’re definitely not boring.” (Although the thing is he does love innocent people, like if you’re like gen clueless he wants preserve your innocence.)

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Tim’s brain can’t keep up with you. Your blunt, no-nonsense attitude constantly makes him blink in confusion. One minute you’re casually roasting someone, and the next, you’re giving a straight-up critique of his latest plan. He’s learning that he can’t outthink you.

He admires your unapologetic honesty. Tim has a lot of internalized doubts, so watching you casually reject anyone’s judgment is a nice contrast. You don’t apologize for your thoughts, and it’s something he secretly admires.

Constantly second-guesses himself around you. Your sharp tongue makes him want to be as confident as you. He gets nervous about saying anything that might sound soft, so when he stumbles, you’re like, “What was that? I swear you just whispered something.” And he’ll blush hard, muttering an apology.

You both have a sarcastic sense of humor that others don’t quite get. You say something outrageous, and Tim will respond with the driest remark possible. People in the room often wonder if you two are joking or just genuinely a bit rude.

Not scared to call him out. When Tim’s too nice, you’ll be like, “You need to stop letting people walk all over you. Grow some teeth.” Tim won’t admit it, but that does motivate him to be a little bolder.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Damian is a bit taken aback at first. He’s used to people being respectful or like seeing him as kinda a role model, so when you come out with a “That’s dumb, don’t even talk to me right now,” he’s not sure how to handle it. He will stand there, blinking, while processing your bluntness. (He’s too stunned to speak 😞)

Genuinely respects your forthrightness, though. “I’ll admit, I have never met someone so… honest.” He starts respecting you even more, thinking you’re someone he can’t manipulate or charm easily.

Loves that you’re as stubborn as he is. If you’re determined about something, there’s no changing your mind. You’ll fight for your opinions even if it gets you into a heated debate. And Damian’s right there with you, arguing like it’s the most fun thing in the world.

Tries to match your bluntness. “You talk too much,” he says one day, and you immediately reply, “And yet, here you are, listening to every word I say.” Damian actually pauses for a second, impressed. “Right..”

Loves how you’ll shut down his critics with zero hesitation. Someone says something disrespectful to him, and you’ll be the first to shoot back, “He doesn’t need your advice, trust me.” He’ll give you a proud little smirk. “I like the way you handle things.”

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

At first, Bruce is a bit disconcerted by your bluntness. Bruce’s the kind of guy who expects people to be formal and classy, and you just come in with “This entire meeting is a waste of my time. I don’t care about any of this.” He blinks, then quietly admires your bravery.

Totally respects your unfiltered honesty. Bruce has had enough of the world’s games, so when you don’t bother to pretend or hold anything back, it’s like a breath of fresh air for him.

Secretly loves when you don’t play nice." He knows you're not afraid of saying what you think, and when you call him out on his brooding or overly protective behavior, he listens. “You’re right. I’m sorry for not trusting you more.” (He totally doesn’t have a tracker on your hair clip..🥰)

You both have moments of pure savage honesty that no one else gets. There’s no need for filters, and you’ll both exchange one-liners so dry that it leaves everyone else in the room confused.

Finds it endearing when you make his plans more interesting. “This is ridiculous. Why are we doing this again?” You snap at him in a room full of his board members, and he just gives you a look that says, “I’m never apologizing for you.”

2K notes · View notes

n0vazsq · 5 months ago

Text

Mi vida | FC43 x Reader

pairing . . . franco colapinto x rbr!driver!reader

summary . . . What's better than one chaotic F1 driver? Two! And that's the story of how you got together with your boyfriend, Franco

request . . . no!!

word count . . . N/A

warnings . . . none! story set few days before monza! cringe-ish (??) dialogue at the end?

faceclaim . . . girls from pin!

alexavia yaps . . . woohoo!! finally wrote a smau again and its for my boy franco!!! kinda short but yeah i made franco and y/n gen z pr nightmares!! hope yall enjoy it <3

yourusername

liked by francolapinto, maxverstappen1, yourbsf and 2.3M others

yourusername look at my driver dawg he's losing this race Tagged: francolapinto

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maxverstappen1 he's in a williams

yourusername and?

maxverstappen1 him losing shouldn't be a surprise

francolapinto 😔

yourusername MAX DONT BULLY HIM

maxverstappen1 ill make sure to tell him sorry when i lap him

francolapinto what did i ever do to you max

maxverstappen1 say lewis is your idol

username1 i live for the rbr teammates and franco fighting

username2 raw. next question

username3 girl went to f1 and became a whole new person (cough franco terroriser cough)

yourusername i need to put him in his place, I AM the one with the redbull seat not him

username3 Y/NRPLIED HOLY SHIT

username4 praying for their pr managers

username5 i just know they made max's life a living hell

username6 i'm shaking for the interviews because i know y/n and franco will be menaces

username7 franco's f2 interviews and y/n's interviews now scream 'i will destroy your life'

username8 woah

username9 y/n please post more y/n

francolapinto who's that handsome man

yourusername me

francolapinto you can't be this beautiful

yourusername wow okay tell that to your next girlfriend because WERE DONE

francolapinto dont break up with me before my first f1 race ill ram you into the wall

yourusername ill crash in fp1

francolapinto noo mi vida youre so sexy pls dont die haha

yourusername forgiven 😊

username10 are we just going to ignore them breaking up in a comment section

username11 that happens like thrice every day just ignore them

username12 man i love them

username13 goats of f1 frrr

username14 theyre so iconic being the first couple in f1

username15 meow

username16 real

username17 screaming crying throwing up

username18 manifesting franco ends up in the points

username19 what about y/n??

username18 queen always ends up in the points

username19 mb mb

username20 franco calling her 'mi vida' MY HEART CANT TAKE THIS SHIT

francolapinto

liked by yourusername, alex_albon, bizarrap and 1.1M others

francolapinto life is hard (p12 in my first race) but at least mi vida got p8! and we did the track walk together 😊🫶 Tagged: yourusername

click to view all comments

username21 i REFUSE to believe franco typed that caption

username22 FRRR like its too innocent and peaceful

username23 their pr managers took over

username24 HOW IS HE SO PRETTYYYY

username25 my kind of love frrr

username26 no.1 couple argument closed

username27 sigh i wish i was a wag

alex_albon photo credits?

yourusername up my ass

francolapinto no mi vida only i can see up your ass

yourusername what he said

alex_albon tmi....

username28 theyre back!!!!

username29 i live for their chaos

username30 got me on my KNEES

username31 what id pay to be her

bizarrap ayyy ¿cuándo vas a hacer que nos veamos? (ayyy when are you going to make us meet?)

francolapinto pronto pronto (soon soon)

bizarrap dame una fecha exacta hermano (give me an exact date bro)

francolapinto cuando vienes al gran premio (when you come to the grand prix)

bizarrap vale vale (okay okay)

username32 I SEE THE AESTHETIC VISION FRANCO

username33 shes so pretty omgggg

username34 idk if i want to be y/n or franco

username35 holy shit hes gorgeous

username36 came here for franco stayed for y/n

yourusername woah youre so hot

francolapinto youre hotter

yourusername nahhh youre way hotter

francolapinto kiss me if im wrong but im hotter

yourusername then i wont kiss you because youre hotter

francolapinto fuck i didnt think of that

yourusername ill still kiss you just come over to my driver room

francolapinto 🏃🏃

maxverstappen1 should i be worried or....?

yourusername mind your business max

maxverstappen1 i'm the one who's going to here those disgusting noises not you

yourusername too bad

alex_albon i feel like i should be grateful its not happening in williams

francolapinto im here mi vida where are you i cant see you

yourusername im right here in the room??

maxverstappen1 WHAT IS FRANCO DOING IN MY ROOM

francolapinto shit wrong room

yourusername hurry up franco

francolapinto On my way!

maxverstappen1 let me leave the garage first

username37 man i love them

username38 HELP FRANCO GOING TO MAX'S ROOM???

username39 did max just expose them or

username40 i feel like im intruding reading the comments between them

yourusername

liked by francolapinto, maxverstappen1, bizarrap and 2.8M others

yourusername haters wish they were on our level fr Tagged: francolapinto

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username41 if being in a parasocial relationship with them was a crime id be executed

username42 THE PICS??? EXCLUSIVE SUBSCRIPTION??? EXCUSE ME???

username43 how are they both so good looking

username44 the face card is INSANE

username45 I NEED THIS SO BADLY UGHHHHHHH

username46 STOP not the matching glasses

username47 need a boyfriend who will take me on bike rides while i wear my redbull helmet and he wears his williams helmet

francolapinto i dont want to see my beautiful face i want to see YOUR beautiful face

yourusername but youre so pretty how can i not put your face more than mine

francolapinto mi vida your face isnt even on there

yourusername yes it is

francolapinto its covered by that ugly helmet

redbullracing 🤨

francolapinto this one is ugly i like her own customised helmet

yourusername aww amor 🫶 i love your helmet and i love you

francolapinto i love you more

yourusername no i love you more

francolapinto no

alex_albon if you continue with this sappy stuff ill vomit

yourusername okay 'goodmorning baby'

alex_albon SHUT UP

yourusername oi francolapinto we found his weak spot

francolapinto lets get ready to terrorise him

yourusername bet

username48 if they need a third im always available

username49 i want to see mother and father but theyre more like mommy and daddy

username50 erm

username51 if my bf aint like this ion want him

alex_albon ill admit this is actually cute

yourusername thank you!!

francolapinto we're not cute we're hot

yourusername we're both tho

francolapinto true

alex_albon why'd you have to ruin such a beautiful and innocent moment

francolapinto life

yourusername WORDS 🗣️ 💯🙏❗

username52 legit can't decide who's better looking

username53 oh how i need this more than oxygen

maxverstappen1 franco doesn't how to play padel

yourusername he beat me

maxverstappen1 anyone can beat you

francolapinto don't bully her like that

maxverstappen1 or what

francolapinto brazil 2018 pt2

maxverstappen1 DONT YOU DARE

yourusername ok max thats it go stare lovingly at charles or idk

maxverstappen1 ???

francolapinto we all know max dont worry

maxverstappen1 ??????

username54 so um whens the wedding

username55 man i need me a francoyn relationship

username56 did they just confirm lestappen?!?!??!?!

username57 im sighing dreamily at these pictures

bizarrap ah so youre the girlfriend?

yourusername yes yes i am

bizarrap y'know i cheer for you and not franco because you get higher places

yourusername im flattered 😊

francolapinto this is a betrayal you should be cheering for ME only

username58 THE PICS.

username59 giggling blushing and kicking my feet

username60 when will y/n post more y/n sigh

francolapinto how are you so gorgeous

yourusername i should be asking YOU that

francolapinto mi vida you are the prettiest girl i have ever seen in my life and you call ME gorgeous?

yourusername fuck yes

francolapinto i love you

yourusername love you more

williamsracing

liked by francolapinto, yourusername, alex_albon and 1.3M others

williamsracing can you spot the odd one out? Tagged: francolapinto, yourusername

click to view all comments

username61 how to kms no borax no glue

username62 people DIED (i'm people)

username63 they haven't commented yet???

username64 ikk it's so weird

username65 they usually hop on after like 6 secs

username66 its not a want its a NEED

username67 MILF = man i love franco (and y/n)

username68 i just KNOW their kids will be BEAUTIFUL

username69 face card never declined

username70 and never will

redbullracing don't go stealing around our drivers

williamsracing im just the admin 😔

redbullracing me too 😔

username71 driverS????

redbullracing that was typo

username72 IS FRANCO GOING TO REDBULL??????

username73 redbull admin x williams admin

username74 the otp fr

username75 the lack of franco and y/n is concerning

username76 WHERE ARE THEYYYYYY

francolapinto add more photos of mi vida i want to see her beautiful face

yourusername i want to see YOUR beautiful race

francolapinto running

username77 there they are

maxverstappen1 admin why now i have to hear them make out for the next 3 hours

williamsracing sorry?

username78 3 HOURS???

username79 theyre more chaotic than we thought

username80 aww y/n looks so cute

yourusername shit where's franco i want to see his face

williamsracing we want to see YOUR face

yourusername oh...😊 admin you make me blush

francolapinto admin?

williamsracing im sorry pls dont kill me

francolapinto i wont just because you take photos of me for mi vida

williamsracing i love you y/n

yourusername love you too admin

yourusername and you too franco

francolapinto love you more mi vidaaa

francolapinto

liked by yourusername, alex_albon, bizarrap and 1.1M others

francolapinto to mi vida, the love of my life, happy anniversary to us and i love you forever Tagged: yourusername

click to view all comments

username81 deleting all my socials after this

username82 they are SOULMATES vro

username83 this screams 'forever and always'

username84 'mi vida' OKAY BRO BYE IM LEAVING THIS EARTH

username85 legit fairytale vibes

username86 imagine being this in love

bizarrap ¡enhorabuena a los dos! ¡que sean muchos más! (congratulations to you two! here's to many more!)

francolapinto gracias hermano, lo aprecio (thanks bro, i appreciate it)

yourusername gracias!! (thank you)

username87 the caption is from a song i refuse to belive franco wrote it

username88 i am JEALOUS, ENVIOUS, GREEN.

username89 poetry fr

username90 they ARE the main characters

username91 FRR like everyone else is just a side character

username92 alex play 'that should be me' by justin bieber

alex_albon congrats to you two! least favourite couple i know!

francolapinto thank you alex!

yourusername thank you!!!

alex_albon did you just ignore my statement

yourusername yes we chose to ignore it

username93 this is the kind of love ppl write books about

username94 STOP NOT THEM CONGRATULATING EACH OTHER ON THE RADIO IN THE LAST RACE

username95 if they break up then love isnt real

maxverstappen1 you two deserve it! take care of my little sister francito

yourusername MAX STOP

francolapinto will do

yourusername i love my life

francolapinto and i love you

username96 i just know they are each other's ride or dies

username97 where to buy a franco asking for a friend

username98 if i could id just take over one of their bodies to experience this love

username99 im waiting for the fics

username100 straight out of romeo and juliet

yourusername i love you so much, and ive did since forever. you are everything to me, i could never let you go. you deserve everything, mi amor

francolapinto youre my everything too, and im keeping you forever, no takebacks. if I deserve the everything, it’s only because you’re MY everything, mi vida. every star, every light, it all reminds me of you. te amo más de lo que las palabras pueden decir (I love you more than words can say)

yourusername STOP IM GOING TO CRY 🫶🥹 I LOVE YOU SO SO SO MUCH

francolapinto I LOVE YOU MORE THAN EVERYTHING MI VIDA

fin.

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @justaf1girl ,, @awritingtree ,, @freyathehuntress ,, @chilling-seavey (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

846 notes · View notes

writteninlunarlight-years · 8 months ago

Text

Older

This is for the @6esiree contest that they are holding! I hope you enjoy it, and even if it doesn't perform well, I am glad to have made something long! Word Count 3.5k Alastor x Gen Z Reader Based on Song Older by Isabel LaRosa TW: Sexual content, stubbornness, gen gap, age gap, tentacles, begging

Dying wasn’t the first thing on your list of exciting things to do. I mean, yes, you were a 23-year-old living in 2024, so of course, your will to live was low, but that didn’t mean you were ready for it when it happened. No, instead, death came hard and fast, all because you had some serious FOMO and a quite pitiful YOLO moment.

One minute, you were having a great night out with friends, you had a handsome silver fox wrapped around your finger, and then the next thing, you woke to a red landscape of what you only assumed was hell. With your life, it made sense why ‘Hell’ was where you ended up. You died partying and sleeping with the older man, so it only made sense that this was where you would consequently end up.

A deep sigh left you as you looked at the chaos around you. The only good thing you saw so far out of this event was that you didn’t have bills to pay anymore. It looked like as long as you played your cards right, you could get anything here without needing money. As that thought crossed your mind, an ad for redeeming sinners played on a nearby radio.

The voice on the radio was alluring as all hell and had you questioning your life and undead choices. Not even five minutes into being dead, and you are already fawning over an older man's voice. It's good to know that living habits don’t die with you in the afterlife.

Your resolve not shaken, you make your way to where the voice spoke of the Hazbin Hotel and find yourself at the base of a hill, looking up at a grand building with flashing lights. A shiver runs up your spine as you realize how powerful whoever runs this place must be. Maybe pretending to want to be saved would be well worth your time, then.

Let’s get one thing straight here: you are no damsel; you may like your men older, but that doesn’t mean you need one. No, you are an independent queen who can do what she pleases. She just also realizes when to fold and when to hold her hand. Right now, seeking refuge from the fires and sex work was worth it; however, that didn’t mean you wouldn’t earn your keep all the same.

While you thought about these prospects and made your way up to the door, you noticed it was open without you even having to knock. Pushing your head through more of the door, it was clear to see what type of establishment this was…a chaotic one.

Just standing in the entryway, the sights before you were hilarious and intriguing. A cat at the bar grumbled as he watched a spider dance on the bar. A young lady resembling a lamb hurriedly tried to stop the provocative dancing while a gray woman yelled at the spider. A cyclops laughed hysterically while tossing what you could only imagine was a bomb. A small woman rushed around laughing and stabbing the air while a man who looked a little like the lamb girl walked through the room.

The deer caught your eye the most, though, and it seemed you caught his, too, as he was the only one looking at you and your entrance. You two held eye contact, a shiver running up your spine. Oh, you definitely could get used to staying here.

Nodding more to yourself than the deer man, you walked in further and cleared your throat, everyone stopping to look at you. With a slight wave, you smiled brightly and introduced yourself. “Heya, I’m Y/N. Nice to meet ya,”

The room was silent, causing you to laugh awkwardly. As you slowly backed away, thinking maybe this wasn’t a great idea, the lamb girl came over and jumped on you. Holding your arms and bouncing, she spoke excitedly.

“Oh my goodness, a new arrival! Hi, my name is Charlie. I am the hotel's owner,” She beamed proudly at the statement and motioned to the others all in the lobby area of the room, “And this is the Hazbin Hotel residents and staff! The cat is Husk, then Angel Dust, Vaggie, Cherri, Nifty, my father,” She leaned in and whispered, “Also known as Lucifer,”

Laughing at your surprised face, she pointed to the deer man last. “This is Alastor. He is the hotelier; he helps me run the hotel! Was it his broadcast that brought you in?”

You shook your head at the information overload and laughed softly. Nodding to the question, you looked at everyone around. “Yes, I actually passed not too long ago, and as I was weighing my options on where to go, I heard the message on the radio.”

Charlie beamed proudly at Alastor, who just smiled at you precisely as he had been this entire time. You couldn’t lie. He was drop-dead gorgeous. He was tall and fit, and if his voice sounded anything like how it did on the radio, you would be a goner for sure. He was an enigma and one you knew you had to be careful of if you wanted to make it out of this hotel with your head screwed on straight.

“My my, I am quite honored my radio show was able to bring in a petal quite like yourself, dear,” He spoke so smoothly, and you knew right then how right you were; you were a goner. “I do hope you are staying here with us to be redeemed as Miss Charlotte wishes; I am eager to learn…more about you, miss Y/N.”

You swallowed thickly, nodding. Looking at the others, you laughed and began some small talk while they decided where would be the best place to put you. The conversations ranged from how everyone died to how people got here, and you learned more about how hell worked. Learning that Alastor owned many souls only made him more appealing and dangerous.

As Charlie led you to your room, she made sure to inform you of the dangers of getting mixed up with Alastor. Being mindful of her warnings and the blaring alarms in your head that did not match the alarms between your legs, you made it a goal to avoid falling for Alastor at all costs. Oh, how wrong you were for that.

Alastor had his eyes on you the minute he felt your presence near the hotel. You were unlike any other woman he had seen. You looked young and still full of life, so how could someone like you have died so carelessly? Not to mention, he did find you oddly attractive, and your calm demeanor was refreshing. He wanted you and in more ways than just your soul.

He knew the best way to any woman's heart was to court her and get her to fall for him slowly till she needed him and him alone. However, you were a tricky one to get under the skin of. You were so damn stubborn and stuck in your ways of being the lead in your own life that allowing him any control seemed futile. However, the challenge you possessed was all the more thrilling to him.

It started off simple: He escorted you around the hotel. He wanted to lead you around like a gentleman, but you had your own plans. As he talked and explained a specific part of the hotel, your attention was elsewhere in your explorations.

“Y/N, dearest, are you even paying attention?” he asked you sharply as you looked at the paintings for the millionth time since your arrival. You really wanted to listen to him, but this was kind of boring. After becoming close with the others, you were eager to hear more about their lives than be trapped with the man you swore not to sleep within this proximity to you.

“Sorry, Alastor. Yes, I am listening. I was just wondering about some of the paintings; they are quite pretty.” You were honest, at least in the fact that you enjoyed the paintings. Someone had a knack for art, and you were not shy to admit it. However, when you soon learned it was he who chose all the art minus a handful, you quickly shut down your praise.

The next time Alastor tried to win you over and claim your soul was when he began opening doors for you. He never thought the day would come when he saw someone challenge him so brazenly. However, that was probably the day he fell in love with you, as he allowed it to happen.

“Uh…Alastor, what are you doing?” You looked at the opened door with your arms crossed, your body still midstep from when he raced ahead to open the door.

“I am being a gentleman, Miss Y/N, that is all.” He looked so innocent, but you had heard more stories and learned so much about him from the shadows. He was no innocent man but a cold-blooded killer. You wouldn’t lie, though, that his past and present only made you that more attracted to the idea of him. You wanted him biblically, and it only made you hate his advances more, as you didn’t want to lose your soul.

“No, thank you, Alastor. I can open my own doors.” You quickly took the door from him, closing it and reopening it before walking through. The look on Alastor's face was akin to pain and frustration. He was not a fan of your independent attitude and was willing to bet he could break you before the year ended.

Alastor resorted to making sure you always walked on the right side of the road, that your chairs were pulled out for you, and that your food was pre-cut; he even went out of his way to acquire a simple ruby necklace for you to wear so others knew you were accounted for. However, you were stubborn and not taking on his advances. All you would give him was that Cheshire grin and stubbornly push his buttons by mimicking his chivalry with your version.

When it came to Alastors courting skills and all his advances, you managed to turn them down in the same stubborn way. However, it didn’t go amiss by Alastor that each turn down went from cold and distant worry to more playful and light-hearted jests on your part. Was it possible you were falling for him, too?

He admitted to himself a while ago, just as you had that the immediate attraction you two felt despite the age and generational gap was mutual. He didn’t know how to break you while you were too worried about becoming his next meal, even though the way he wanted to eat you was not how you were thinking.

That was until one fateful day when the hotel was barren except you two. You had sat perched in the library reading some trashy romance novel, hoping to get yourself off while Alastor was busy with his work. Busy working till his shadow happened to inform him of what you were reading.

The book you had chosen was interesting in that the main female lead was a time traveler who managed to end up in the olden times as a helpless damsel needing a strong man to care for her—the complete opposite of what you were as a person. However, you wouldn’t lie that the thought of letting Alastor take care of you wasn’t electrifying; it just went against everything you stood for.

However, reading the book and getting to the more intense sex scenes where the woman is restrained and taken care of sexually only caused you to feel more of a heated desire for the man who had plagued your thoughts since you made eye contact with him all those months ago. Sighing deeply, you flipped to the next page and moaned softly at the words, wishing it to be you. You wondered how long your and Alastor’s game of cat and mouse would play out until one caved.

Alastor entered the room and looked over your shoulder. He was enamored with you rutting into your leg as you read the heated pages. He smirked as a tentacle wrapped around your throat and pulled your attention up from the book to his eyeline. “My dear, what do we seem to have here?” He practically purred, and you whimpered softly.

You were already so close to release on your heel that you didn’t realize the pleas coming from your lips. You needed an older man badly; you needed Alastor—someone who would worship your body. As the pleas left your lips, it didn’t take long for Alastor to pounce on you, his pent-up desire for the independent brat growing.

Alastor wasted no time and already had your sleep shorts pooled at your ankles, ratty nightshirt hiked up your back and drooping off one shoulder. Your inner thighs were slick and glistening with arousal from your earlier menstruations while reading.

Alastor hummed in amusement, bending you over the couch, his cold tentacles holding you in place as he moved down your back. His soft breaths tickled you as much as they excited you. He hummed as he saw your pussy in full view, a smile growing on his face. He touched it softly, slick coating his hand as he spoke, “My dear, you are already soaking; you were thinking about me, weren’t you? Thinking about me taking you just like that man does in that book.” He smiled wider, lining his face with your slick. “All you had to do was ask, beautiful.”

A tender hand pushes down on your back, further squishing your chest into the soft plush of the couch arm, his other hand grasping firmly at the fat of your backside where Alastor’s face is lapping at your dripping cunt. Soft mewls cry from your lips, hands reaching back to grasp his head, fingers tangling through the soft red and black locks, being mindful of his ears. He only grunts in response as he continues his onslaught on your most sensitive area.

What felt like minutes and hours at the same time passed; your legs were trembling, knees threatening to buckle under you with three orgasms already coaxed out of you on his tongue alone, milking you of your sweet, slick nectar. Your quiet, strained cries did nothing but aid the tightness in Alastor’s dress pants, his cock oozing arousal in his boxers, dampening the fabric beyond. Every involuntary shift of his hips causes more friction and tension with the fabric, sending a groan throughout your pussy.

Alastors noises vibrate against your cunt, shocking your overstimulated and oversensitive clit. All you can do is cry out as he pushes himself deeper, closer. his tongue is merciless and selfish as he threatens to swallow you whole. At this point, you're begging for him to relent, repeated pleas of his name falling from your lips as the familiar heat builds in your core, and you writhe under his hands. The cold slick of his tentacles digs into your skin as he takes hold of your ankles and wrists now to keep you open.

Everything becomes overstimulating as the world begins to spin. Your jaw goes slack, and saliva pools in your mouth as it threatens to spill over your swollen lips. Tears are streaming down your flushed face, your hair is frizzy, and your eyes are practically rolling to the back of your head as yet another release washes over you, sending a shudder through your body.

Alastor finally pulls his face away from the space he has claimed as his between your thighs, not without flattening his tongue over your cunt for a last taste gathering all of you he could. The tentacles held you tighter as he smirked and sat upright, admiring the mess he had made of you. A slick shimmer on his face as he licked his lips, “Delicious, better than any venison I have ever had, dove.”

As he stands up, his hand on your back pushes you back onto the couch arm. He kneaded the flesh of your backside, groaning at the sight in front of him. His hands meet your hips, pulling you back on his clothed erection. A small yelp escapes your lips at the friction against your sensitive area. Your frayed nerves against the soft material that soaks up your arousal and previous releases.

You whine as he rocks his hips slowly, grunting as he watches the material dampen quickly before he pulls away from your hips. His movements are hasty, and he does not waste any more time as he uses more tentacles to help not only hold your wiggling form but also get his clothes off him. He liked this sight of your half-dressed attire as he held purchase over you, dominance you refused till now to give up.

Once he was undressed, he bleated softly at the warmth of your puffy, swollen folds as he rubbed his cockhead up and down your pussy before catching your willing slit. He groans at the tightness that welcomes him; the slick, clamping, spongy walls that pulse around his dick almost milks him of every last drop of cum.

Your voice is hoarse, almost gone by the time his cock is sheathed in you, his cockhead brushing your sweet spot as you feel him abuse your need for him. You can feel every prominent vein of his cock against your spongy walls; they're practically ingrained in you as your pussy is molded to take his dick.

A creamy, white circle forms at the base of his cock as he pushes his length inside, his girthy dick stretching your weeping pussy with loud, lewd squelches. He doesn't give you time to compose yourself. He's selfish tonight, unapologetically so, because you had been toying with him for too long. After almost a year of cat and mouse, this is finally how he takes you. You drove him mad.

It isn't long until your backside is red, his hips pistoning into your sopping cunt, the sight of your slick pussy swallowing his red, angry cock so needily, sucking him in so desperately and clamping around him was addicting, and the feel even more so. His pace isn't lovely; he's mean, relentless, and bruising.

"Fuck sweetheart, so needy for me; you could have just told me how much you wanted this from the get-go. Saved us both precious time," he whined in your ear, his cock drilling into your tight hole as he nipped at your earlobe. Claws out, he uses his hands, kneading the fat of your ass, a sharp slap to your skin causing it to turn even more flushed and red as he fucked himself stupid using your cunt.

He was growing more and more pussy-drunk, drool forming in his mouth and pooling in his permanent smile, leaning over to place his lips onto the expanse of your shoulder. He pressed lewd, wet kisses against your supple skin, adding to the marks and bruises from his teeth as his demonic form began to take precedence.

With how hard he was holding on to you with his hands and tentacles, you were covered in bruises. He was marking you as his not only with chivalry and jewels but pretty marks that will mar your skin for weeks. He tightened his hold around your throat, pulling you up to a sitting position. He pumped into you harder, watching your stomach grow with his length in you. He groaned heatedly as he transformed more; his hand was pulling you up while his other hand began pushing down on the spot on your belly where he was poking through.

As you both whined and felt relief, he growled in your ear, “I will make you all mine, my Doe. Not a single person can have you now.” He pushed harder for a few more pumps before you two were spilling over one another. He filled you to the brim, his seed spilling out before he could even pull out of you. With a satisfied hum, he let his body slowly return to normal as he slid out.

You were fucked out beyond belief. He smiled, gently picking you up and placing your clothes back on you. He held you in his arms and sighed, acting as if he didn’t just release eons of pent-up sexual tension on you. He snapped his fingers, redressing, and walked with you in his arms to his chambers. There, he would repeatedly remind you who you now truly belong to. Soul or not, he was the one to dominate the disobedient brat you were.

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iyoonjh · 1 month ago

Text

Beyond Plus Ultra! – The anatomy of falling in love

Chapter 17: Take me home, country roads (but please don't tell me it's West Virginia)

wc: 8688 words // warning: making out, veryyyy suggestive

The sun was barely up, and Soobin already felt like he was in a coming-of-age film.

Not the part where someone dramatically runs through the airport, or gets kissed in the rain. No. He was squarely in the “sits awkwardly in the backseat of a cramped car, holding his emotional support water bottle, trying not to be perceived” montage.

They were on the road. Finally.

Jungwon was driving like he was auditioning for Fast & Furious: Gen Z Drift, one hand on the wheel, sunglasses pushed halfway up his nose, nodding to the bassline of whatever aggressively curated playlist was currently rattling the speakers, it made him look like he was born to drive a getaway car.

Next to him, Giselle sat like a woman on a mission. Her shoes were off, one leg tucked under her as she manned the aux cord with all the intensity of a battlefield strategist. The center console was buried under a chaotic pile of snacks, lip balm, a suspicious amount of gum, and a folded checklist titled Operation: Beach Arc. Her phone screen lit up with the next song—something high-tempo and summery—and she cranked the volume, bobbing her head in approval.

“You guys better hydrate,” she said, not looking up. “If anyone gets dehydrated and starts hallucinating, I’m legally required to film it.”

“Put on something calm,” Jungwon said.

“No.”

“Something soft.”

“No.”

“Giselle—”

“If morale drops below a seven,” she warned, holding up her finger like a commander issuing orders, “I will play Pitbull. I am not afraid.”

The bass kicked in—some upbeat synth-pop track that made the windows vibrate. Wind rushed in from the cracked sunroof. The seats were warm from the sun. The air smelled like a mix of strawberry lotion, half-eaten chips, and that slightly plasticky scent of car interiors on long road trips.

And in the back?

Soobin was on the left, pressed against the door like a polite hostage. Y/N was on the right, her shoulder grazing the window, sunlight catching in her hair in a way that felt like someone had custom-lit this entire vehicle just to emotionally destroy him.

And between them?

Heeseung.

Heeseung, who could only be described as the human manifestation of a Magic: The Gathering deck—specifically one that had been left in a backpack for three years, dropped in a puddle of Monster Energy, and then blessed by a chaotic god of fandom.

He was currently wearing his “casual road trip fit”: a faded Pokémon sweatshirt (Snorlax, mid-nap), an inside-out denim bucket hat, and socks with tiny 8-bit dragons that blinked when he moved. He was also double-strapped with a messenger bag and a backpack, even though they were just going for a weekend. There were five D20s in his pocket and he had already spilled one in the parking lot.

Soobin had known him for years.

Heeseung was, technically, one of his best friends.

Heeseung was also ruining his entire life.

Because Heeseung, for the record, was trying to act cool.

Not like actually cool. But, like, his version of cool. Which meant he was slouched in the middle seat like a sentient throw pillow, arms folded like a sage warrior, and very clearly trying not to spontaneously start narrating their drive like it was a “critical plot point in the third act of a fanfic.”

Soobin could practically hear his inner monologue:“Heeseung Lee. Chaotic neutral. Level 4 bard. Currently third-wheeling two idiots with unresolved romantic tension. HP: emotionally fragile.”

Which meant he was currently saying things like:

“So technically, if a mermaid and a centaur fell in love, it wouldn’t work biomechanically—unless the centaur had water magic. But then we’re getting into hybrid reproduction lore and—”

“Heeseung,” Soobin said, staring directly at the window like he might phase through it if he concentrated hard enough, “I swear on all that is holy, if you finish that sentence, I’m leaving this car mid-highway.”

“Oh my god,” Giselle muttered from the front seat. “Is this what I signed up for?”

“Biomechanical lore,” Jungwon repeated blankly, like the words had personally offended him.

Y/N, to Soobin’s horror, was covering her mouth, clearly trying not to laugh. She wasn’t even pretending to be above it. In fact, she leaned her head back, shook with silent laughter, then looked out the window with the smug satisfaction of someone watching a rom-com from a comfortable distance. She hadn’t said a single nerdy thing out loud, and somehow Soobin knew she was enjoying this more than anyone.

Heeseung, unaware that he was the human embodiment of a third-wheel side quest, adjusted his bucket hat with all the wisdom of a man who believed he was being helpful.

“It’s a valid theoretical scenario,” he said, munching on a pretzel stick. “Hybrid offspring are always complicated. You have to consider lineage, environment, whether the mermaid lays eggs or—”

“I WILL EXIT THIS VEHICLE,” Soobin snapped, “AND LET THE HIGHWAY DECIDE MY FATE.”

“Hey, hey,” Giselle interrupted, spinning around in her seat with all the energy of a courtroom attorney. “Let’s pivot. I want to know more about you, Soobin.”

Soobin blinked. “What?”

“You’re too quiet. That makes you suspicious,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Are you mysterious on purpose? Or just emotionally repressed?”

“Oh, he is just emotionally repressed,” Heeseung offered cheerfully.

Soobin sighed, forehead pressed to the cool window like he might absorb some chill through osmosis. “Why do you talk like this?”

“Because I’m right,” Heeseung said.

“Okay, back to me,” Giselle said, dramatically flipping an imaginary notepad. “Soobin. Zodiac sign. Go.”

Soobin paused, vaguely aware that this was a trap.

“…Sagittarius?”

“Oh my god,” Giselle gasped. “You’re a Sagittarius? That explains everything.”

“What does that even mean?” Soobin asked, deeply alarmed.

“It means you probably ran away from a confession once and then spent three years thinking about it in the shower,” she said.

Soobin opened his mouth to deny it, then closed it.

Y/N’s face turned toward the window. He could still see her smile in the reflection.

“Okay next one,” Giselle said, finger pointed. “Hogwarts house.”

“Why are we doing this,” Soobin mumbled.

“Because I’m building your dating profile,” she replied. “Now answer. House?”

“…Ravenclaw.”

“Duh. Called that in my soul. Quiet on the outside, brain doing 90 tabs of overthinking. Sexy.”

“Please stop saying sexy in a moving vehicle,” Jungwon muttered from the front, grinning. “But to be fair, Soobin kinda gives Huffle-Puff”.

“Alright, most important question,” Giselle said, all false innocence. “How many girlfriends have you had?”

Soobin, to his credit, didn’t immediately choke.

But something in his brain definitely short-circuited. Like a little man in a control room frantically pressing buttons while all the alarms went off at once.

Girlfriends.

Girlfriends?

Him?

Why would she ask that? Why would anyone ask that? Why did he suddenly forget how to breathe? He blinked, staring straight ahead like the headrest in front of him might open a portal to another universe. One where Heeseung had lost his voice and Soobin wasn’t being emotionally disrobed in a moving vehicle.

He considered lying. Just a little. Something vague and impressive. Maybe say he’d had a long-distance relationship in high school. France, perhaps. Or a girl he met at a debate tournament who fell in love with his passion for obscure historical conflicts.

But no. He couldn’t do it. Not when Heeseung was sitting two feet away with a memory like an elephant and the moral integrity of a Twitter thread.

He sighed.

“…None,” he admitted, voice tight like it was being squeezed through a straw.

And that’s when Heeseung exploded.

He burst into violent, uncontrollable laughter.

Like, doubled over. Full-volume. Possibly wheezing.

“Oh my GOD,” he gasped, slapping his knee. “I’m sorry, I just—Soobin with a girlfriend? That’s like watching a cat try to drive a forklift.”

“I hate you,” Soobin said, tone flat, ears bright red.

“He once practiced holding hands with a Luffy plushie,” Heeseung continued.

“I WAS YOUNG!”

Heeseung wiped a tear from his eye. “It wasn't that long ago bro. And recently you've been calling a name–”

“SHUT UP,” Soobin urged, and then—because he had to retaliate—turned to Giselle and added, “Heeseung writes fanfiction.”

The car exploded in sound.

“I KNEW IT!” Giselle shrieked.

“BRO,” Jungwon yelled. “What fandom?!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Heeseung said coolly, pulling his hood over his face.

“Oh, I know what he’s talking about,” Soobin said, vengeful and smug. “Your AO3 handle is RogueSniper94, don’t act brand new.”

“EXCUSE ME—”

“You wrote 23k words of slow burn enemies-to-lovers about two wizards named Kyo and Ashur who couldn’t touch because of a magical curse—”

“THAT WAS A WORK OF ART,” Heeseung yelled, voice cracking.

Eventually, the laughter settled.

The car had gone quiet in that rare and beautiful way where no one felt the need to talk.

The kind of silence that hummed beneath your skin. Filled with sunlight and the low thrum of the tires and the faintest scent of sea salt starting to creep in through the open windows. Giselle scrolled through songs with lazy fingers. Jungwon had one arm hanging out the driver’s side, humming under his breath, content.

Soobin had almost relaxed. Almost.

Heeseung, having been suspiciously quiet for a suspiciously long amount of time, sat up suddenly like a robot coming back online and declared, loudly:

“I had a girlfriend once.”

The car jumped.

Giselle turned slowly in her seat. “What.”

Jungwon let out a choked laugh. “Sorry—what?”

Soobin stared at him. “No you didn’t.”

“I did!” Heeseung insisted, now fully alert and far too confident for a man wearing socks with tiny pixelated dragons. “Her name was… Maybelline.”

“Like the makeup?” Y/N asked, trying to stifle a laugh.

“She was French,” Heeseung said, crossing his arms. “We met in a League of Legends lobby.”

Soobin pressed a hand over his face. “You absolute liar.”

“She lived in Marseille,” Heeseung continued, unbothered. “She mained Lux. We were star-crossed. It was beautiful.”

Giselle snorted. “Did you two ever meet in person?”

Heeseung hesitated. “...She didn’t believe in cameras.”

“Oh my God,” Jungwon wheezed.

“Okay, so just to recap,” Soobin said, voice muffled behind his palm. “Your imaginary French LoL girlfriend, Maybelline—named after a mascara brand—ghosted you through a voice chat?”

“She didn’t ghost me,” Heeseung muttered. “She just stopped logging in. Maybe she was kidnapped by enemy agents. We had enemies.”

“You were level 12 and playing ARAM,” Soobin said. “Your only enemy was rage-quitting.”

“I’m telling you,” Heeseung said, eyes distant now, gazing out the window like a man remembering a war only he had fought. “She had this laugh. Like... the echo of a potion exploding in a fantasy tavern.”

Silence.

Y/N leaned forward, choking on a laugh. “Okay, you have to write poetry.”

“I do!” Heeseung replied, triumphant. “In my Druid’s backstory notes. One was a haiku about a cursed harp. It made Beomgyu cry.”

“I can’t breathe,” Giselle said, laughing so hard her head hit the headrest. “You guys are actually insane.”

Heeseung just leaned back, smug. “I bring mystery. Romance. Lore.”

“You bring trauma,” Soobin said.

Jungwon, who hadn’t stopped laughing, reached to turn the volume up and said, “This trip is already perfect.”

And in that moment, with the wind in their hair and the playlist shifting into something bright and fast, with Giselle laughing, Y/N hiding her face behind her hand, Heeseung looking far too proud of himself, and Jungwon driving like they were chasing a dream—Soobin felt it too.

This was it.

This was the memory.

Already golden, even as it was happening.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

The gravel crunched under the tires as Jungwon pulled into the long driveway, music still thumping faintly from the speakers. The beach house loomed ahead like a summer dream—whitewashed walls, a big wraparound porch, and windows so wide open they looked like the house itself was exhaling.

Soobin sat stiffly in the back seat, gripping his water bottle like it might keep him from passing out. He was already overheated—mentally, emotionally, spiritually. His leg was doing that nervous bounce thing, even though they’d been on the road for hours. Y/N sat beside Heeseung, sunglasses sliding slightly down her nose, smiling lazily like this was just another day. Like they weren’t pulling up to the most intimidating social experiment of his life.

Still in the car, the first one he saw was Jay in his usual half-unbuttoned shirt and sunglasses he definitely didn’t need, strumming air guitar dramatically like his entrance required a backing track. Karina followed in a matching linen co-ord set, dewy and radiant, with enough sunscreen on to reflect satellites, already directing traffic like someone’s glamorous aunt who refused to be sunburned or emotionally inconvenienced. Sunoo skipped out after her, arms wide like a cartoon welcome committee, already mid-monologue about how his swimsuit had been personally blessed by Beyoncé.

From the porch, Beomgyu was hanging upside down from the railing like a raccoon who’d discovered Red Bull. “WHO DARES DISTURB MY KINGDOM,” he shouted, cackling.

Sunghoon, for his part, was hiding in a corner of the house where, according to his very scientific calculations, the sunlight couldn’t possibly reach him. The curtains were drawn, the shadows were deep, and he was positioned so precisely behind a potted plant that it looked like he was part of the decor.

Leehan had tried to reassure him earlier. “You can go in the sun, you know. Your skin won’t melt. You won’t develop a rare light-triggered illness. I ran the numbers.”

And while Sunghoon understood that, rationally, he was not a vampire… the level of his paleness was still concerning to everyone involved. Including the wildlife.

Hueningkai, however, was not convinced. Wearing his Ben 10 board shorts like a badge of honor and sipping juice from a reusable straw shaped like a lightsaber, he peeked around the corner, whispering, “He’s lurking. That’s vampire behavior.”

“You’ve seen him in sunlight like four times,” Taehyun said without looking up.

“Four times too few,” Hueningkai muttered, sounding like he was about to scribble something in a small notebook titled The Truth About Sunghoon.

Meanwhile, Taehyun was sitting at the dining table, lazily spinning a bottle of sunscreen between his fingers as he watched the scene across the room unfold like a particularly awkward teen drama.

Yeonjun, still in denial about the existence of Jay, was trying to impress Yunjin. Badly. He was leaning against the kitchen counter like a man who thought eyeliner gave him emotional depth, waxing poetic about the lore of My Chemical Romance. All this while very much showing how inexperienced he was with girls.

“I mean, you think The Black Parade is about death,” he said, gesturing with his iced coffee like it was a wand. “But really, it’s about transformation. It’s theatrical nihilism wrapped in post-traumatic catharsis.”

Taehyun blinked. “Did you just say ‘post-traumatic catharsis’ out loud?”

Yeonjun ignored him.

Yunjin sipped her drink with one eyebrow raised. “Interesting. Do you also analyze Fall Out Boy lyrics in your free time?”

Yeonjun straightened his already aggressively unbuttoned shirt. “Only when I’m feeling vulnerable.”

Outside, the sun blazed golden and bright, the air thick with salt and sunscreen. Waves crashed in the distance. Laughter echoed from the porch. Inside the beach house, it smelled faintly of coconut shampoo, watermelon popsicles, and summertime. That strange little pocket of time—full of Ben 10 shorts, shadow-dwelling maybe-vampires, and musical lore debates—summer was alive and thriving.

The front door burst open before the car had even stopped.

"THEY'RE HERE!" Jake’s voice rang out like a battle horn.

The porch erupted.

“Finally!” Jake called, bursting through the front door like someone had just announced free concert tickets. “We were starting to think Jungwon panicked halfway here and abandoned the car on the side of the road.”

He swung the screen door open dramatically as Y/N stepped up onto the porch, grinning.

“Nah,” she said, adjusting her sunglasses. “He just did that thing he always does when he’s nervous driving.”

“Let me guess,” Jake replied. “He ran a red light and whispered ‘we ride at dawn’ under his breath?”

“Worse,” Giselle added, climbing the porch steps behind her and immediately accepting a margarita from Karina, who looked like a beach goddess casually moonlighting as a bartender. “He sped ten miles over the limit and prayed to the spirit of cruise control.”

“He also yelled ‘vibe shift!’ during a left turn,” Y/N said.

From inside the house came a muffled voice: “IT WAS A U-TURN AND I WAS BEING ASSERTIVE.”

“We’re alive,” Giselle offered cheerfully. “Barely.”

And then, as if summoned by the summer gods themselves, a figure emerged from the far side of the yard—barefoot, shirtless, and covered in sand and wisdom.

Niki.

His hair was windswept. A leaf was stuck to his collarbone. He carried a bundle of driftwood in one hand and a mango in the other, as if they were equally important tools in his communion with the elements.

“I have returned,” he said solemnly. “I searched the dunes. The crabs spoke to me. They said, ‘The druid has arrived.’”

There was a beat of silence.

Then—

From the open, Heeseung, already inside, stuck his head out. “That’s me.”

“Oh no” Soobin whispered.

Everyone turned.

Heeseung shrugged like it was obvious. “I’m the druid.”

Niki gasped, eyes shining. “I knew it.”

“I mean, I’m not physically trained,” Heeseung added. “But I dabble.”

Niki cried, dropping to one knee. “He sees the ley lines.”

“I actually do,” Heeseung said. “They run under the living room. That’s why the Wi-Fi sucks there.”

Sunoo groaned. “You’ve known him for five seconds, and you’ve already enabled him.”

Beomgyu grinned. “And it’s beautiful.”

“Can someone please stop this?” Taehyun asked, already regretting everything.

“No,” Karina replied, sipping from her cup. “This is gold.”

Jake clapped his hands like a kindergarten teacher trying to wrangle chaos. “Okay, now that the forest druid has been identified and all parties are here, let’s talk room assignments!”

Soobin froze.

The group shuffled toward the living room like a pack of over-caffeinated toddlers. Chips crunched underfoot. Hueningkai was still dragging a cardboard box labeled “Essential Items” (which everyone knew was full of dice and plushies). The windows were cracked open and the scent of sunscreen, ocean air, and seven different types of snacks swirled together into something uniquely beach house-y.

“Alright,” Jake said, hopping up onto the coffee table with the natural confidence of a man who had absolutely orchestrated something. “Since some of us,” he gave a dramatic look at Soobin’s group, “decided to arrive fashionably late, we took the liberty of figuring out rooms for you guys.”

“That’s not suspicious at all,” Y/N said, crossing her arms.

Soobin stood behind her, arms stiff at his sides, trying not to look like he was on the verge of passing out.

“You’re gonna love it,” Beomgyu added, already cracking up.

“He is gonna love it so bad it hurts” Sunoo offered with a wink.

Karina raised her hand like she was testifying. “And it encourages emotional growth and narrative development.”

Soobin’s stomach flipped.

No. No, no, no. He knew that tone. That was the same tone Heeseung used when introducing a D&D quest that started with “you enter the cave” and ended with everyone on fire.

Yunjin looked directly at Soobin. “You trust us, right?”

He blinked. “I—uh—what?”

Jake held up his phone like he was reading a sacred text.“Room One: Me and Sunoo. Room Two: Jay and Jungwon. Room Three: Karina, Yunjin, Niki and Giselle. Room Four: Yeonjun, Taehyun, Sunghoon. Room Five: Heeseung, Hueningkai, Leehan and Beomgyu. And...”

He paused.

Soobin’s heartbeat spiked.

“Room Six…” Jake grinned, “...Y/N and Soobin.”

Soobin forgot how to breathe.

The world tilted slightly. Oh, so this is how I die.

“I’m sorry—what,” he said, voice cracking like he was being hit with puberty all over again.

“Oh my god,” Beomgyu cackled. “He’s actually going to short-circuit.”

“I knew he’d react like this,” Sunghoon whispered from the shadows.

Y/N tilted her head. “Is it a problem?”

“No! I mean—yes. I mean—” Soobin looked around wildly. “Did you guys roll dice for this? Flip a coin? Use a cursed artifact?”

“We voted,” Jake said proudly. “Democracy is alive and well.”

Y/N smirked, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Well, I’m chill with it.”

That did not help.

Soobin was currently going through all five stages of grief in the span of thirty seconds.

He had never shared a room with a girl before. Not in real life. Not in fanfiction. Not in his most terrifying dreams. And now it was Y/N. Y/N. The human embodiment of everything lovely and terrifying. The girl who made him forget his name on a daily basis and smell citrus shampoo every time she passed by. The girl who had smiled at him once and singlehandedly rebooted his will to live.

And now he was supposed to... sleep in the same room as her?

He was going to die.

Heeseung clapped him on the back. “Just remember to breathe through your nose.”

“Okay, okay,” Jake waved them toward the stairs. “Off you go. The room has an ocean view, good Wi-Fi, and a decent lock in case Niki tries to commune with the sea spirit again.”

Niki, from the corner: “Gerald Two is sacred. Respect his journey.”

Beomgyu smiled at him, nodding to Leehan. “You two are gonna have a blast together.”

The group had mostly dispersed by now—Sunoo and Giselle were already raiding the snack cabinet, Jay and Jungwon were arguing over who got the top bunk, and Karina was doing a room inspection like she was reviewing a five-star hotel. The chaos shifted to background noise, like the house itself had swallowed everyone into their respective corners.

Soobin stood frozen on the stairs.

Still reeling.

Still sweating.

Still very much processing the fact that he was about to share a room—with a single bed—with Y/N.

Y/N, who was currently chatting with Yunjin near the hallway, totally unfazed. Casual. Effortlessly cool, like this was nothing to her. Like this wasn’t a monumental, earth-shattering shift in the gravitational pull of Soobin’s entire life.

He leaned toward Heeseung, lowering his voice to a whisper so no one else would hear.

“What if I snore?” he hissed. “What if I kick in my sleep? What if I say something weird like—like ‘critical hit’ or something?!”

Heeseung, who was already peeling open Jay's protein bar –which, to be fair, he thought it was a chocolate bar– with the calm of someone watching a nervous breakdown in 4K, blinked once. “You definitely will.” He then choked on the said protein bar, cause of course he never tried something so healthy.

Soobin groaned.

Because yes—he had talked in his sleep before. Once during a D&D weekend, he’d mumbled a full recap of the campaign arc in his dreams. They’d never let him live it down. What if it happened now? What if he rolled over at 3 a.m. and whispered “perception check” into her ear?

What if he drooled?

What if she had, like, pajamas that made her look cute and cozy and unreasonably perfect and he forgot how to sleep entirely?

Heeseung leaned against the railing, grinning. “Soobin. You’re spiraling.”

“No,” Soobin whispered, eyes wide. “I’m just—falling off a cliff internally.”

“Same thing.”

Soobin looked over at Y/N again. She’d already picked up her bag, smiling at something Sunghoon said. Her laugh was easy and bright, like she was already at home here.

She wasn’t nervous.

He was the only one nervous.

He was the only one having a full psychological collapse about shared bed proximity and the way her shampoo smelled like citrus and sunshine and emotional risk.

Heeseung clapped him gently on the shoulder. “Just don’t moan her name while you sleep.”

“Please don’t make this weird,” Soobin begged.

“It’s already weird,” Heeseung said. “Lean into it.”

Soobin dragged his suitcase up the last few stairs like it weighed a thousand pounds, heart pounding like it was trying to punch through his ribcage.

There was still time to fake a leg injury.

Or a spontaneous vow of celibate solitude that required him to sleep outdoors for spiritual reasons.

But then Y/N turned around and met his eyes—just for a second—and smiled. Not a smug smile. Just... soft. Like she already knew he was having an internal meltdown and had chosen not to call him out on it.

And somehow, that made it worse.

He was, very possibly, going to say ‘dexterity saving throw’ in his sleep while absolutely falling in love with her all over again.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

Room Six was down the hall, last door on the left. It had a little seashell hanging from the handle and a hand-written sign Beomgyu had taped to it that said “DO NOT HAUNT. IN USE.”

Soobin internally groaned.

Y/N opened the door first, humming. “Wow. It’s actually cute.”

Soobin hovered behind her, carrying his duffel bag like a man delivering a bomb. The room was cute. Wooden floors. A window cracked open to let in the ocean breeze. String lights hung loosely across the ceiling like a constellation map, probably Sunoo’s doing. The bed—a single queen-sized fortress of imminent doom—sat neatly against the far wall, draped in soft white sheets and a stupidly cozy-looking blanket.

One bed.

Confirmed.

No escape.

Y/N dropped her bag at the foot of the bed, then flopped down face-first with a sigh. “This house smells like sunscreen and Malibu Liquor. I love it.”

Soobin stood in the doorway, frozen. “Y-you’re okay with the bed?”

She rolled over to look at him. “I mean, unless you snore like a tractor or plan on doing medieval wizard chants in your sleep, I think we’ll survive.”

He blinked. “Define medieval wizard chants.”

Y/N grinned. “You’ve said ‘Avengers Assemble’ in your sleep before. Don’t deny it.”

“I HAVE NOT.”

“You have vibes, Soobin.”

Soobin closed the door behind him, cautiously, like the act itself sealed some sort of romantic pact. He dropped his bag beside hers and hovered awkwardly, eyes flicking to the bed, then away, then back again like it might attack him.

“Do you want the left side?” he asked. “Or the right? Or... the floor? I can sleep on the floor. It’s not weird. People do it in, like, movies. For honor.”

She tilted her head, amused. “You think sleeping on hardwood floors is honorable?”

“Maybe?”

“You’re not sleeping on the floor, Soobin.”

Soobin blushed. “I just… didn’t want to assume.”

She patted the mattress beside her. “We’re adults. And besides, it’s big enough. Look—we could lie down right now and probably not even touch.”

He absolutely could not lie down right now. And if he could, he was even more certain he couldn't help but touch her.

Instead, he busied himself unpacking like his life depended on sock organization. Why the hell would he bring so many socks to the beach? “Okay, uh… I brought snacks. And chargers. And toothpaste. Two. In case one of them… explodes.”

She sat up, cross-legged. “That’s very responsible of you.”

“I was a Boy Scout,” he mumbled, still digging through his duffel. “Until they kicked me out for accidentally lighting a marshmallow on fire inside a tent.”

Y/N laughed. “That actually explains a lot.”

She stood, stretching like a cat in the sunlight, arms raised above her head, hoodie riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of skin. Her hair fell lazily over one shoulder, catching the afternoon glow that poured in through the window, and when she smiled—soft and effortless—it hit Soobin like a slow-moving train.

It was a mistake to look up. A crucial, life-altering, heart-rate-spiking mistake.

Because she was beautiful.

Not the kind of beautiful you see in movies—though, to be fair, she could have been cast as the love interest in every film he’d ever secretly cried to, Star Wars included. No, it was worse than that. She was the kind of beautiful that made time hiccup. The kind that made your breath catch even when you already knew how pretty she was. Somehow, she just kept doing it, reminding him every second of how beautiful she was. Reminding him of the things she does–being real, being close, being so her—and it wrecked him all over again.

And that smile. That soft, summer-laced curve of her lips like she had no idea what she was doing to him—or maybe she did.

Soobin’s heart launched into his throat, bouncing around like it wanted out. His brain short-circuited. His soul ascended briefly to heaven.

Because she wasn’t just pretty.

She was the girl he’d kissed on a porch under a summer sky and in his bed after noticing the way he organized his shelves.

And he hadn’t stopped thinking about it since.

Not for one second.

The way she’d leaned in with that quiet certainty. The way her hand had cupped his cheek like she meant it. He’d replayed it every night like it was his favorite scene in a movie he wasn’t supposed to watch more than once. He’d kissed a pillow in embarrassment later. He’d questioned reality. He’d almost texted Yeonjun about it at 3 a.m. before remembering he already panicked to him before

Soobin memorized every part of her he could touch, while in his bed, alone, couldn't stop wondering about the ones he hadn't touched yet.

And now she was here. In the same room. The same bed.

Soobin could feel himself spiraling.

Would she want to kiss him again?

Did she even remember it the same way?

Would something happen tonight? Would they... would she—

She caught him staring.

Her brows lifted, head tilting with a mix of curiosity and something almost teasing. “What?”

His throat dried instantly.

His first instinct was to panic. His second was to dive under the bed. But somewhere, buried under five layers of anxiety and social ineptitude, a flash of boldness sparked through.

And before he could stop himself—before his brain could scream ABORT, ABORT,—

Soobin said it.

“You look so, so, so pretty.”

It came out soft. Honest. A little breathless.

She blinked.

He blinked back.

His stomach dropped. Oh god.

But then—slowly—she smiled.

Not just smiled. Smiled in that way. The kind that curled at the edges. The kind that made her eyes crinkle just a little. The kind that made Soobin’s blood pressure skyrocket.

“Yeah?” she said, voice low, just slightly amused.

Soobin could only nod, his mouth suddenly too dry to function. “Yeah. I mean—you always do. It’s just... you. Right now. With the sun. And... you.”

Dear diary, today I died.

Just as Y/N was about to say something else, Jay’s voice thundered from downstairs,

"Drop whatever you're doing! I don't care what it is—sun’s out, we got drinks and it's beach time! You can continue your little romance later!"

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

The sun was dipping low in the sky by the time they all made it to the beach — the kind of late afternoon light that made everything look cinematic, like the world itself was glowing from the inside out. That golden hour glow stretched across the shore like a soft filter, painting their skin in honeyed tones and turning every movement into something worth remembering.

The sand was still warm beneath their feet, heat clinging to it from the day, soft and fine like powdered sugar. It squished between their toes, clung to the hems of shorts, and crept into every flip-flop with committed mischief. The ocean glittered just ahead, stretching out into an endless watercolor of deep blue and copper, waves curling gently toward the shore like the sea was sighing in contentment.

Seagulls cried overhead, not obnoxiously, but like a distant part of the soundtrack — and somewhere down the beach, a radio played a muffled Pitbull track from someone else’s beach towel kingdom.

The air smelled like summer itself: sea salt and coconut sunscreen, watermelon seltzers cracked open with fizzing enthusiasm, and the faintest trace of charcoal from grills scattered further down the coast. The breeze carried it all, lifting loose strands of hair, making T-shirts flutter, and rustling the beach umbrellas like oversized flowers shaking in the wind.

It was chaotic. Loud. Alive.

Towels were flung in random formations, coolers popped open with the hiss of carbonation and shouts of "WHO PACKED THE VODKA GUMMY BEARS," and bags were dumped in the sand with reckless glee. Someone had already lost a flip-flop. Someone else had claimed a seagull made eye contact with them—it was Hueningkai.

And into that golden, buzzing, too-perfect-to-be-real moment came this group — all of them, dragging laughter and drama and sunscreen-sticky hands, the kind of group that left footprints in the sand and changed the temperature of the space they occupied. It felt like a movie. A summer episode. Something you’d remember long after the tan lines faded.

Sunghoon stood under a giant umbrella he had speared dramatically into the sand, wrapped in a towel like a vampire in exile.

“I’m burning,” he said.

“You’re fine,” said Yeonjun, who was already shirtless and halfway buried in the sand by Taehyun, who claimed it was "for thermal regulation."

“My skin is hissing, listen you can actually hear it,” Sunghoon continued, eyes narrowed at the horizon. “This is how it starts. A freckle. Then spontaneous combustion.”

“Okay Edward Cullen,” Yunjin muttered. “You’re wearing like SPF 180.”

“I don’t trust it.”

Meanwhile, Hueningkai proudly marched across the sand like a tiny, hyper-focused general, wearing his Ben 10 swim trunks like ceremonial armor and holding a massive Pokémon beach towel above his head like a battle flag.

“Ben Tennyson is canonically the most powerful character in fiction,” he declared, loudly and to no one in particular.

From a few feet away, Heeseung, who was currently crouched behind a poorly constructed sand barricade, stuck his head out like a soldier in a foxhole. “We’ve been over this,” he said. “Twice. In two group chats. And during your birthday party.”

“AND YOU’VE YET TO REFUTE ME WITH FACTS,” Hueningkai yelled, planting his towel into the sand like he was claiming territory.

Beomgyu, who was lying flat on his stomach beside a growing sand mound, like a soldier on a barricade, turned his head. “Did you seriously bring that towel just for this moment?”

“I bring it everywhere,” Hueningkai replied, dead serious. “For moments just like this.”

“Ben 10 is literally just a dude with a watch,” Jay said, walking past them and adjusting his sunglasses. “He’s a guy with Google Maps for aliens.”

Hueningkai gasped. “Slander. You speak lies Mr. Jawline.”

“I’m just saying, Goku would fold him like laundry.”

Hueningkai seemed to consider this for a second, perhaps rich boy with a Rolex in the sand had just made a valid point.

“Goku is kinda unbeatable,” Y/N offered, flopping onto a towel nearby and sipping from a juice pouch like this was cable TV. “But Ben’s transformation montage? Top tier.”

“I respect the alien drip,” Soobin said thoughtfully.

“You know what? Thank you,” Hueningkai pointed dramatically at him. “Real recognize real.”

Soobin gave a half-wave, unsure what he had just agreed to.

That's when the real battle exploded next to them.

“YOU STOLE MY SHOVEL,” Beomgyu bellowed, leaping to his feet with sand clinging to his elbows like war paint.

“It’s a communal shovel you asshole,” Heeseung yelled back, wielding said shovel like a sword. “You left it unattended. Possession is nine-tenths of the sand law!”

“COMMUNAL THIS—!” Beomgyu shouted, launching a sandball directly at Heeseung’s chest. It disintegrated mid-air like a soggy comet.

“YOU THROW LIKE A LEVEL ONE ELF,” Heeseung cackled, dodging behind a beach umbrella.

From across the dunes, Jake came sprinting in like a referee who had lost control of the match 40 minutes ago. His T-shirt was tied around his head like a pirate bandana, and he held a mostly empty cooler in one hand. “STOP! YOU’RE GETTING SAND IN THE DRINKS!”

“I SWEAR BY THE MOON,” Heeseung screamed, holding the shovel aloft, “I WILL BURY HIM.”

“YOU CAN’T BURY ME IF I BECOME THE SEA,” Beomgyu shouted, sprinting toward the ocean like a man possessed.

“Oh my god,” Y/N whispered, laughing so hard she was wheezing. “I feel like I’m watching the live-action reboot of Finding Nemo, but every character is The Joker”

“I think they’re just reenacting their battle fantasies,” Soobin muttered, brushing sand off his knee. “Through interpretive beach violence.”

“Are we helping?” Jay asked. “I'm new at nerd territory”

“Not even a little,” Soobin replied.

“Perfect.”

Meanwhile, Karina and Giselle sat cross-legged on their towels with the air of queens observing a carnival, sipping canned margaritas while Leehan crouched in front of them with a horseshoe crab in his hand like it was a sacred artifact.

“So this one’s technically not a crab,” he said, adjusting his bucket hat with academic precision. “It’s more closely related to spiders. Isn’t that amazing?”

“Is it venomous?” Giselle asked, eyeing it like it might explode.

“No.”

“Then it’s adorable,” Karina said. “He’s shaped like a friend.”

“It’s a she,” Leehan corrected. “Her tail is thinner. Also, she probably predates the dinosaurs.”

“Kind of iconic,” Giselle said. “A woman with prehistoric energy? Love that.”

“I wish I was her,” Karina added. “I, too, want to vibe in the ocean for 400 million years.”

Niki crouched beside them, wide-eyed. “Does it have healing properties?”

“Biologically? No,” Leehan said. “But spiritually? Possibly.”

“So we can’t train it,” Niki said, disappointed. “Unless…?”

“Don’t encourage him,” Y/N said as Niki ran off yelling something about building a sea wizard army.

Off to the side of the chaos, where the sand was cooler and the wind rustled the beach grass just enough to make it dramatic, Taehyun had now established what could only be described as a pop-up magic lounge.

There was no sign.

No announcement.

Just Taehyun, cross-legged on a beach towel, slowly shuffling a deck of cards with the deadly precision of someone who’d spent way too many Friday nights alone in front of YouTube tutorials.

In front of him sat Sunoo, Jungwon, and Yunjin, his victims, all with various degrees of skepticism and mild curiosity. Sunoo had a margarita in hand. Jungwon was already squinting like he was being scammed. Yunjin had pulled her sunglasses down her nose and was watching like it was the pre-show to a roast.

“Pick a card,” Taehyun said calmly, fanning the deck out like a professional.

Sunoo leaned in dramatically, plucking one with flourish. “It’s gonna be the best card.”

“Don’t let me see it.”

“Duh.”

Taehyun closed the fan, tapped the deck twice on the towel like it was sacred. “Now... place it back.”

Sunoo slipped the card into the deck with exaggerated suspicion. “If you pull this off, I’ll buy you a churro.”

“I don’t want a churro,” Taehyun said. “I want respect.”

Yunjin snorted.

Taehyun began shuffling.

Not normal shuffling.

No, this was elaborate, showy, magician shuffling — bridge shuffles, one-handed cuts, the kind of stuff that looked unnecessary but somehow deeply impressive.

“You practiced that in a mirror,” Jungwon said.

“For weeks,” Taehyun replied solemnly. “I have a performance alter ego.”

Sunoo’s eyes widened. “You what?”

“His name is Thaedini the Subtle.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Yunjin started choking on her drink. “Thaedini.”

“Don’t disrespect the art,” Taehyun said seriously, dealing out cards in a perfectly straight line like a wizard accountant.

“Are you gonna pull a dove out of your pocket next?” Jungwon asked.

“Can’t. It’s illegal without a permit,” Taehyun said, deadly serious. “Also I’m allergic.”

“Okay, wait,” Sunoo said, pointing. “You’re telling me there’s a government form for bird magic?”

Taehyun raised one eyebrow. “Do your research.”

He picked up the deck again. One more shuffle. Then he paused. Looked Sunoo dead in the eyes.

“Your card,” he said, “was the Queen of Hearts.”

Sunoo’s jaw dropped. “NO.”

Taehyun flipped it around slowly—like it had emerged from another dimension—and held it up.

It was, in fact, the Queen of Hearts.

Sunoo screamed.

Jungwon dropped his drink.

Yunjin actually stood and backed away like she’d witnessed dark sorcery.

Taehyun just nodded once. “Thaedini never misses.”

“DO IT AGAIN,” Sunoo shrieked. “I TRUST NOTHING.”

“You said you didn’t want a churro,” Jungwon said, shaking his head.

“I lied,” Taehyun said. “I want power.”

“Okay, but how did you do it,” Yunjin demanded.

“I’ll never tell.”

Sunoo flopped backwards in the sand, hands over his face. “He’s going to haunt me. I know he is.”

Taehyun carefully slid the deck back into its satin pouch like it was a cursed object, then calmly reached for a juice box. “Next show’s at sunset.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

The beach house was quiet now — or as quiet as it could get with fifteen people slowly melting into beds, couches, and spare corners like sun-drenched puddles of exhaustion. The floor creaked under flip-flopless feet. Towels were draped over chairs, swimsuits hung on doorknobs, and sand had somehow made its way into every room like a clingy friend no one had invited but everyone tolerated.

The air smelled like salt and sunscreen and faint hints of charcoal from the abandoned grill. Someone’s speaker still played a lo-fi beat from the porch, looping softly under the hush of ocean waves just beyond the windows. The kind of hush that made your limbs heavy. That golden, giddy energy from earlier had simmered down into something quieter. Drowsier. People were laughing in half-sentences, brushing their teeth slowly, slipping into pajamas and collapsing wherever gravity was strongest.

Soobin stood frozen in the doorway of Room Six, blinking at the glow of string lights and the bed that was somehow smaller than it had looked that morning. Everything about the room felt warmer. Closer. Like it had absorbed the sun, the salt, and the knowledge that he was about to sleep beside Y/N — the girl he was hopelessly in love with. How the hell did he get here?

She was already inside. Sitting on the edge of the bed, her legs tucked under her, hoodie swapped for a tank top, hair up in that casual way that sent actual neurons in Soobin’s brain into chaos. She looked tired in the best way — soft and sun-kissed, skin still glowing faintly from the afternoon light. Her voice was quiet when she looked up and said, “You survived the first day in the wild.”

Soobin nodded, heart thudding. “Barely.”

“Wanna sit?” she asked, patting the bed beside her.

He did. He sat.

Technically.

He perched, really — stiff-backed, knees together, looking like one of those inflatables on the side of the road that you just know shouldn't exist.

Y/N laughed under her breath and turned to face him. “You look like you’re about to recite the Pythagorean theorem. You're overthinking.”

“I just—” he rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a very... cozy bed.”

She tilted her head. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” he said quickly. Too quickly. “I just don’t want to, like, make you uncomfy. Or take too much space. Or breathe weird.”

“You can breathe, Soobin.”

He blinked. “Are you sure?”

She leaned a little closer. “I’ve seen you asleep on the manga shop beanbags. You snore when you're comfortable.”

His soul briefly left his body. “Oh my god.”

“But,” she said, smile turning slightly wicked, “it’s kind of cute.”

Soobin’s brain short-circuited. His heart was trying to burst through his chest with a small mallet. His knee twitched nervously.

She looked at him then — really looked — and something shifted in the air.

The kind of shift that came with shadows and lowered voices, with soft lighting and bare shoulders, with a bed too small for distance and too big for denial.

Y/N reached out, brushing a piece of hair from his face — slow, casual, lethal.

Soobin inhaled like someone had punched the wind into him.

“You’re nervous,” she said softly.

He nodded. “Extremely.”

“Want me to back off?”

He swallowed. “No.”

She smiled.

And for a moment, they just looked at each other — no rush, no noise, just the hum of string lights, the distant sea, and the kind of awareness that vibrated like tension in a taut wire.

Y/N shifted closer, until her knee touched his.

Until her hand rested on his thigh — light, easy, but full of potential.

Soobin’s hands stayed in his lap, fingers twitching. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“Not tonight,” she whispered.

He finally turned toward her — fully, finally — and something about the way she was watching him, all softness and spark, gave him a flicker of courage. He reached up, brushing her cheekbone lightly with his knuckles, and her eyes fluttered half-closed at the touch. Like she felt it too.

“You’re doing that thing again,” she said, voice low.

“What thing?” he asked, already dizzy.

“The way you look at me. Like I’m going to vanish.”

He blinked. “Well. You do look kind of unreal right now.”

She let out a quiet laugh, flopping back on the bed, one hand folded under her cheek as she looked up at him. “Oh, please.”

“I’m serious,” he whispered, lying down to face her, their noses barely a breath apart. “This feels like a fever dream. Just like the one I had every night since we kissed on that porch.”

She grinned. “Do you have dreams about me Soobin?”

“Every damn day I dream of you.”

He hesitated for half a second before gently threading his fingers through hers.

The room shifted again— just a little. The air. The light. His heart rate. His heart rate was skyrocketing.

“You’re very warm,” he said.

“That’s the sunburn.”

“No,” he said, looking at her mouth. “I think it's just you.”

A beat of silence. Her smile turned teasing.

“Are you flirting with me, Choi Soobin?”

“I’m trying,” he whispered.

“You’re doing great,” she said, brushing her thumb over his knuckles. “Ten out of ten. Very romantic. Would kiss.”

Oh.

Oh no.

Soobin’s heart tripped over itself, slammed into his ribs, and exploded into oblivion.

He swallowed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said, eyes darting to his lips, her voice barely a whisper now. “You gonna?”

And that was all he needed.

Nerves and all, he leaned in — slowly, reverently — like he was afraid the moment would slip away if he moved too fast. His hand cupped the side of her face, thumb brushing just below her ear, and when their lips finally touched—

He stopped thinking entirely and it felt like he could breathe again.

She was soft. And warm. And tasted faintly like watermelon and salt and something sweet he couldn’t name but already wanted again.

Soobin kissed her like a secret.

Like he didn’t know what he was doing, but he did know he didn’t want to stop.

One of his hands slid down, resting cautiously on her waist, fingers barely pressing into the fabric of her tank top. He felt her smile against his lips — playful and steady — and her fingers tugged lightly at the hem of his T-shirt like a dare.

She kissed him back with slow confidence, like she had all the time in the world to unravel him.

And she was.

His mind was swimming — too much, too good, too close — and still, his hand moved on instinct, brushing her side, dragging fingertips up the curve of her back, slipping beneath the edge of her shirt just enough to feel her skin.

She was fire.

And he was very much not surviving this.

He was throbbing in pain as he could feel all the blood in his body go to his pants. And he was sure she felt it too.

He pulled back just enough to breathe, eyes searching hers, voice so quiet it was almost a prayer. “This okay?”

Y/N smiled — the kind of smile that would ruin other smiles for him forever.

“More than okay.”

So he kissed her again.

This time, deeper. Slower. His body trembling with restraint he wasn’t sure he could maintain for too long, every brush of skin sending sparks down his spine. Her hand slid to his jaw, thumb grazing the corner of his mouth like she was learning him by touch.

Soobin wasn’t sure when he stopped breathing and started floating.

It could’ve been the moment her fingers found the hem of his shirt again, tugging just enough to make him dizzy. Or maybe it was when her mouth opened under his, soft and welcoming, tasting like heat and summer and something sweeter than anything he’d ever been allowed to want.

His hand found her hip — then her waist — then crept slowly, cautiously up her back. Each inch of skin he touched felt like forbidden territory. He’d only imagined this kind of closeness in half-formed dreams, ones he woke from too quickly, heart pounding, face flushed, mouth dry.

But now she was here.

Real.

Moving with him like they’d done this a hundred times before — like this wasn’t new, or terrifying, or something that would live in the soft-focus corner of his memory forever.

She shifted in his lap, straddling him with ease, and his hands immediately flew to her hips to steady her. Not because she was unbalanced — no, she was impossibly sure of herself — but because he needed grounding.

“Still good?” she whispered between kisses, her breath skating across his jaw.

Soobin nodded, speechless. His hands squeezed her hips once in response, and she giggled — not mockingly, but like she was genuinely delighted by the fact that he was so thoroughly wrecked.

And he was.

Wrecked, that is.

He kissed down her jaw, tentative but hungry, one hand slipping beneath her shirt again — this time bolder, trailing up the smooth warmth of her back, brushing the curve of her spine and then her upper side. Her skin was soft under his fingers, impossibly soft, and he swore his soul tried to exit his body when she shivered at his touch.

She tugged his shirt up — slowly, teasingly — and he let her pull it over his head, suddenly hyperaware of his own skin, his chest, the way her eyes flickered over him with a quiet kind of reverence that made his ears burn.

Then Y/N slowly took her own shirt off.

Soobin just stared, heavily breathing.

The string lights cast a soft glow around her. Her hair was slightly mussed, lips kiss-bitten, cheeks flushed from the heat of them. She looked at him like she’d never wanted anything more in her life — and like she already had it.

Soobin's hands rested on her thighs now, fingers splayed, and he realized with a rush of nervous wonder that she was letting him touch her like this. That she wanted him like this.

“Soobin” she murmured seemed lost in him.

He made a strangled noise, reaching for her. “You’re driving me crazy”

She smiled, pressing her lips to his collarbone. “Please, touch me.”

And he did. He touched her like he had been dreaming for days, his hands cupping her like he couldn't believe his life, couldn't believe she was real. Because how could she be?

When he thought he was finally able to calm his heartbeat, she let out the softest whimper, just as he reached a sensitive area of her chest. He moaned to the sound of her, already certain he would replay it for a lifetime in his head.

Y/N shifted.

Her kisses traveled lower — down his throat, across his shoulder, lingering just long enough to make him lose all rational thought. His fingers were on her waist, gripping tighter now, like he was scared she’d float away.

Then she leaned back — just enough — and pulled away from him.

Soobin blinked, breath ragged, already missing her warmth.

But then she shifted again — onto her knees — kneeling in front of him on the bed.

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profiles: d&d saturday mass group | bling bling losers

author's note: hey yoooooo! happy late night posting from where i'm from hehe first chapter of the beach arc is here!! i think the car ride to the beach house might be the funniest thing i've ever written idk!! BUT ANYWAYSSS what do you guys think about his chapter?? hehehehe i'm giggling kicking my feet omg that was unexpected right? I couldn't resist including the one bed situation! please let me know in the comments <3 also reblogs are appreciated! thank you so much as alwaysss

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