#these look so washed out... w/e

[magstorrn]

port arthur, lutruwita/tasmania - 20 march 2024

[kpopfanfictrash]

Clichés and Canapés (M)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Genre: best friends to lovers; fake dating; billionaire au

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader (f)

Word Count: 40K

Author's Note: Part of the In Bloom collaboration with @kithtaehyung, @yoonia, @syllviere, @leahsfavefics, @suga-kookiemonster, and @cybrsan. Unfortunately, this is so long it has to be posted in two parts; please interact with both!

Synopsis: After twenty years of friendship, you’d think you were used to Seokjin’s proposals by now. In the past he’s forced you to participate in skydiving, skinny dipping, and even staging a rescue from the local shelter. Seokjin has always had big ideas but this time, even he may have gone too far. Granted, break-ups are stressful, and Seokjin’s latest one up was bad. Really bad. As in, they-ended-things-in-December-and-now-she’s-dating-his-brother bad.

It almost makes sense then, when Seokjin asks you to come home with him for his parents' party. Almost makes sense when he says his family assumed you were dating, and he didn't correct them. What doesn’t make sense is the longer you fake things, the more you find yourself wondering if this was real all along.

Rating: 18+; explicit sexual content

Warnings (explicit content): oral (f. receiving), nipple play, delayed orgasms, sex w/out a condom, cum play, semi-public sex, light spanking, fingering, dirty talk, mention of voyeurism

Warnings (other): depictions of micro-aggressions, mentions of divorce (past tense), emotionally abusive/manipulative parents (side character)

Time is relative. A year can be both long and short, depending on which side you stand on. December is always a surprise, despite having lived through the months prior. The ‘you’ of today compared to the ‘you’ of last year always makes you feel ancient. The past year in particular packed more punches than most – some of them small, and some monumental enough to stop you in your tracks.

For example, this time last year – how is it already May? – you still worked in consulting, nimbly hanging from the top rung of the corporate later. But by the end of last summer, you had unceremoniously quit in a flurry of anger and paperwork. Last year had many difficulties but honestly, quitting wasn’t one of them.

No – one thing no one tells you in school is that all jobs kind of suck. There’s no one right answer, one right path. There are many careers you can enjoy – some of them taken by choice, others by happenstance and you’ll likely be good at more than one. Each one has a different toll, though. A different cost-benefit analysis, as you would have said last year.

You were good at consulting. There were many reasons you rose through the ranks. You always enjoyed a good challenge; enjoyed the thrill of being good at your job, but slowly realized work didn’t make you happy. Not when the cost was your free time and every ounce of value you saw in yourself.

Ambition is also a funny thing. Chasing a dream, even someone else’s, can be satisfying but eventually, you look down and notice the cracks in your life. Crevices between who you are and who you want to be, widening until the gap is unpardonable. The moment you notice is the moment you’re forced to make a decision.

For you, the decision was to quit.

God, it felt good to drop all the burdens. To leave your equipment with IT and stop caring about which projects were on track, which coworkers were slacking, and what the impact would be if certain laws passed. Petty concerns about petty people, all washed away by the sunlight outside.

The ‘you’ of ten years ago would have been embarrassed to call yourself a barista. The ‘you’ of ten years ago though, still believed in golden lies spun by corporations. The idea that if you worked hard enough, long enough – translation: made enough money – you would be happy. News flash: you weren’t. Or at least, not happy enough.

Working in a coffee shop has been fun. Enjoyable. Of course, there are rushes and harried customers and your feet hurt, but at the end of the day, you still have the energy left to be creative. That’s what matters to you.

Your friends have been saying as much to you for years. One friend in particular was convinced you needed to take a step back, but you rarely listened to Seokjin when it came to matters of work. With his upbringing, his family, it wasn’t like money was ever a concern to him, and –

“Y/N? Hellooo? Y/N!”

Jerking upright, you realize Jimin has been calling your name. Screwing the cap on the syrup, you glance over your shoulder.

Jimin leans against the counter at an angle which, frankly, defies gravity. One impeccable brow lifted, he watches with both arms folded over his apron.

Slowly, you set down the syrup. “How many times did you call my name?”

Jimin shakes his head. “At least three. I understood at first, but then I started worrying you were losing your hearing. You know, because of your age.”

“I’m three years older than you, Jimin. Not decrepit.”

“Right.” A deep sigh. “Thirty. And here I am, young and virile and still in my twenties.”

“Ugh,” you say, wrinkling your nose. “Please don’t ever say virile to me again. And you’re in your twenties for now,” you add. “You’ll be thirty someday.”

“Yes. In the far, far, far future.”

Despite his teasing, Jimin joins at the sink with an armful of bottles. He stacks them neatly on the counter, reaching to fill one with syrup.

The café is quiet on a Tuesday afternoon. A few patrons linger, typing on laptops with their over-ears on, but the morning and noon rush have come and gone. Until someone enters, there’s nothing to do but clean and prep for tomorrow. Reaching for the next canister, you realize Jimin is wearing a Look.

It’s a Look you’ve grown familiar with over the past month, since Jimin insists on having the same conversation.

“Oh, no,” you sigh.

“Oh, no – what?”

“Oh, no – why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” Jimin widens his eyes, the picture of innocence.

“Like I just kicked a dog,” you grumble.

Someone glances up from their laptop, appalled, and your face heats, realizing they overheard between songs. Busying yourself, you turn around and place your back firmly to them.

Jimin grins. “W-ow, Y/N. Can’t your good friend – and roommate, might I add – look at you without an agenda? It’s like you’re so used to being alone, you push people away at the first hint of discomfort.”

You make a sputtering sound. “Okay, first off – ouch. Too real for a work conversation. And second, that is not what’s happening here.”

Even if Jimin does have a point, says a voice in your head. Although you met Jimin in college, the two of you only recently reconnected. You were in the same theatre group back then, overlapping your senior and his freshman year. When you needed a roommate, you posted on the alumni social media page and Jimin responded. Since then, you’ve become close friends – along with Jimin’s boyfriend, Hoseok, one of your favorite people.

Jimin has been watching you withdraw socially for the past year, although much of that, you’d argue, is for a valid reason.

“So, does that mean you’ve changed your mind about the cabin?” Jimin asks, resting his chin on his fist.

“No,” you say through gritted teeth. “It does not.”

“Come on.” Jimin slumps dramatically. “It’ll be so much fun! And a bunch of my friends are single. And hot.” He wiggles both brows. “Now that I’m dating Hoseok, I need to set you up with someone.”

Despite yourself, your lips twitch. Jimin has been trying to get you to join his college friend cabin trip. Although you like his friends, an entire week with them is out of the question. Every single one of them is Type B – seriously, all of them – and if you went, you know you’d be instantly relegated to the ‘mom’ role. Even with the hottest of people, that’s a hard no for you.

Jimin is right there with them, flying through life by the seat of his pants, whereas you plan for all contingencies. Like the time you went backpacking through Europe and all the trains were cancelled due to something mumbled hastily at you in Spanish. It was up to you to solve – something you did within the hour; a story Seokjin likes to tell people at parties.

Of course, the response at Seokjin’s family parties tends to be shock at having taken public transportation in the first place. Seokjin’s family are rich-rich. Like, funded-the-railroads rich. Have-statues-in-historic-downtowns rich. Wear-clothes-that-look-like-Goodwill-but-actually-cost-five-figures rich.

It’s been a long while since Seokjin has said anything in your presence though, since you haven’t joined his rich-people parties in months. In fact, the last time you saw Seokjin was at his birthday party last year.

Wincing at this, you return to Jimin.

Admittedly, he makes some good points. You haven’t dated someone in ages. Your former job took up most of your time, and when you did date, it was friends of co-workers or people you met through work. Since quitting, you’ve taken a step back from the dating pool. As nice as it is to be wined and dined, you haven’t felt the need to take on someone new.

Not with how messy your personal feelings already are.

Mostly, you’ve thrown yourself into the coffee shop and writing. Jimin has encouraged you to branch out and meet new people, but it’s been hard. Especially after everything that happened with Seokjin.

“Maybe,” you sigh, looking up.

Bzzz-zzzz. Your phone jolts on the counter, and you choose to ignore it.

Jimin’s face brightens. “Maybe? Yes! I’ll text the group and have them add you to the chat. They’re going to be so psyched to have another driver, Y/N – you won’t believe how slowly Max goes on the highway, and – okay, who has been texting you?” Jimin glares at your phone when it buzzes again. “That has to be the tenth text in a row.”

“Probably emails,” you say, reaching sideways. “I need to turn notifications off. Ever since that info leak last year, I get so much spam that–”

Unfortunately, the name on the screen stops you, mid-sentence. You do have emails, along with a text from your sister, but it’s the name at the top driving your current state of paralysis.

Seokjin – (1) unread text.

“What?” Jimin attempts to peer over your shoulder. “Who is it?”

“No one,” you blurt, yanking your phone away. “Nothing.”

Hovering over the trash can, you swipe sideways. Seokjin’s text fills the screen.

Seokjin: *emergency emoji* so, I have news… [3:11 PM]

Fear grips your chest, filling you with dread while you await the next text. For months, you’ve anticipated this message. Seokjin has finally proposed, and his girlfriend, Emilia, has accepted. Your best friend – if you can still call him that – is engaged. Fully taken. Off the market.

Of course, if Seokjin were still your best friend, you’d have no doubts regarding his text. You’d be elated, excited by the next stage in his life. You’d be happy for him, happy for Emilia, and eager at the prospect of an over-the-top wedding invite. Emilia’s family is as rich as Seokjin’s, after all.

Instead, you find yourself feeling – well. Not happy.

In an attempt at distraction, you read your sister’s text about what to get your mom for Mother’s Day. The two of you have combined gifts for years, but the burden usually falls on you. Something about your mom’s latest boyfriend rubs your sister the wrong way.

Another text flashes on top of your screen.

Seokjin: Emilia and I broke up [3:13 PM]

Your eyes widen.

Dimly, you realize this is a terrible way to receive information, but your fingers are already moving. Returning to Seokjin, you see he’s still typing. His ellipses pause, then start, then pause again. At last, a new message comes through.

Seokjin: well, we broke up a while ago but guess what haha [3:15 PM]

Seokjin: now she’s dating Jaesuk [3:15 PM]

Before you can recognize the foolishness of doing so, you gasp. Jimin thrusts himself over the top of the screen, blonde hair falling forward as he tries to read.

“Y/N,” he whines. “Come on! Tell me what’s happening – did Tom and Zendaya break up? Get engaged? Break up, then get engaged?”

Dazed, you shake your head. “It’s uh, Seokjin.”

Jimin pauses. “Seokjin?” Glancing upward, his brows furrow. “Your friend, Seokjin? The one who’s… you know,” he says, miming something with one hand.

“… sexually active?”

“No.” Jimin huffs. “Loaded! That was me, swiping my black card.”

“Oh. That was unclear. But yeah, Seokjin’s family is well-off.”

Jimin whistles and looks at the ceiling. “Well-off. That’s what the uber-rich say to make it sound like they’re still in touch with reality. This guy must be dripping money.”

You have no response to this, since Jimin isn’t wrong. Although Seokjin himself is an untenured professor, there’s no way he could afford his current apartment without his inheritance. No way he could have completed his PhD in four years without the luxury of not having to work. Not to mention he teaches at a university with one of the largest endowments in the country and a building donated by his great-grandfather.

Because Jimin is a more recent friend, he’s never met Seokjin. Seokjin and you didn’t go to college together – he attended the same university he teaches for now. Jimin knows who Seokjin is, though. Hard to be friends with you and not know who he is.

As the second Kim son, Seokjin escaped the gargantuan task of inheriting the family business. Mostly, Seokjin’s parents leave him alone to do what he wants. Jaesuk, Seokjin’s older brother, wasn’t as lucky.

Which takes you back to the text. Emilia is dating Jaesuk.

“Anyways,” you say. “Seokjin texted me something surprising. That’s all.”

Jimin clasps both hands together. “Oh?”

You feel your face heat. “Not like that, you idiot. He has a girlfriend. Or – well, he had a girlfriend. He just texted me that they ended things.”

“And?”

“And…” Against your better judgement, the words rush out, “Now, his ex-girlfriend is dating Seokjin’s older brother.”

“WHAT,” Jimin yells at the unfortunate moment a new customer enters.

Both your heads jerk sideways. Before Jimin can recover, you scoop up your phone and dart towards the back. “Gotta go,” you blurt in a split-second decision. “Can you greet that customer? I’m due for my break. Thanks, Jimin!” you call, pushing through the staff door.

Through the frosted window, you see Jimin fume, then paste on his best customer service smile. Exhaling lowly, you lock the door and collapse at the small, wooden table.

Your heart pounds in the silence, unnaturally loud. Placing your phone on the table, you stare at the wallpaper – a photo of the city skyline you took last fall. Before that it was a photo of you and Seokjin. Your screensaver has always been you and Seokjin, something you never questioned until last year. Last summer, to be precise.

“Get ahold of yourself,” you mutter.

Taking a deep breath, your fingers hover over his name. You press call before you can second-guess yourself, Seokjin’s name filling the screen. He answers almost immediately.

“Hello?”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Seokjin sounds out of breath, deeper than you remember. How unfair would it be for him to experience a second puberty burst. The first was torture enough for you as a teenager. Overnight, Seokjin transformed from your nerdy best friend to a soft-spoken, hilarious man the entire school wanted.

“… Y/N?”

Opening your eyes, you scoop up your phone and take it off speaker. “Oh, hey – yeah, it’s me.”

He chuckles. “I figured when I saw your name calling.”

“You never know.” Aimless, you pick at the lint of your apron. “Maybe I was in a tragic accident, and someone found my phone at the scene of the crime.”

“Does that mean I’m your emergency contact, Y/N? I’m touched.”

Your cheeks heat since yes, you’re not sure you ever changed that. What you say though, is, “Don’t get cocky. I have all my phone contacts listed as emergency contacts. I like to hedge my bets.”

He laughs, louder this time. “Hey, no judgement here. Pretty sure you’re still mine.”

Your fingers still on your apron. You shouldn’t be his contact – not after everything. Harshly, you stamp out the hope rising within you. Seokjin’s lack of foresight and planning shouldn’t be taken as anything but just that.

“Right.” You pause. “Sorry – is this a bad time? I should have texted back, but I’m at work, and thought it’d be easier to call…”

“You’re at work? Y/N, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to –”

“I’m on a break, don’t worry about it.”

 A long pause. At last, Seokjin sighs and the knot in your chest tightens. You can count on one hand the number of times you’ve seen him upset. Once when your parents were getting divorced, and you ignored his texts for a week. Another, when he and his college girlfriend, Lisa, broke up. Another when his mom was diagnosed with breast cancer (currently in remission). And then again, when your ex cheated on you with your supposed best friend senior year. Seokjin drove across state lines all night to be on your campus by morning.

He sounds upset now, too.

“Yeah.” Seokjin exhales. “You thought this conversation would be better in person, and as always, you were right, Y/N.”

The way he says your name sparks wistful familiarity. It also reminds you of a darkened hallway, whiskey on Seokjin’s breath and – you stop the memory in its tracks.

“What happened?” you press. “I just… damn, Seokjin. The last time I saw you and Emilia, the two of you seemed so, um… so…”

“Coupled?”

“I was going to say nauseating, but yeah.”

Seokjin barks out a laugh. “Way to kick a guy when he’s down, Y/N.”

“Sorry,” you say, but your lips twitch. “Although… I don’t mean to be rude, but… you don’t sound down? You sound… surprisingly chipper for a man who was cuckolded.”

The truth of this statement resonates within you. Seokjin sounded tired when he answered, but everything since has felt almost normal. Almost – because the elephant in the room has not gotten smaller.

The last time you spoke face-to-face was December.

“Whoa, whoa – hang on,” he sputters. “Who said anything about cuckolding?”

“Were you not? Le cuckold, as the French say?”

“Wait.” Seokjin sounds amused. “To be clear, which party is the cuckold? The guy who cheats or the guy cheated on? Also – why is there no name for the woman in this scenario?”

“Oh, there are plenty of names for the woman. They’re just not as fun, and heavily drenched in misogyny.”

“Right, right. The patriarchy, etc. – but seriously, Emilia didn’t cheat on me. Or she says she didn’t, and I’m inclined to agree.” He pauses. “I think.”

“You think?”

“I do believe her. But… well, even if she didn’t technically cheat… even if we broke up in December, then waited a respectable period of time and then they started dating – it still feels weird. Like, was she into him the entire time we dated? Was my brother into her?”

“No good answers come from that line of questioning,” you say grimly.

“I know.” Seokjin groans, and you imagine him dragging a hand down his face. “You’re right, but I can’t stop picturing it. And they didn’t.”

“They didn’t what?”

“Wait a respectable amount of time,” he mutters. “Emilia and I broke up in December, and they told me at the end of March they were dating. Meaning they started dating before and only deemed it serious enough to tell me in March.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Hence the thinking.”

“About the timeframe, or the general weirdness?” you prompt.

In the back of your mind, you can't help wondering what made Seokjin reach out. According to what he just said, Seokjin has known about Jaesuk and Emilia since March. Granted, everything about this is strange and it's valid to vent, but you haven't spoken to Seokjin in months. Even before the break-up, it's been ages since you spoke about anything real.

“Both,” he says in response to your question.

“Not… anything else?”

“What else would I be thinking about, Y/N?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you huff, twisting the thread of your apron. “Are you still in love with Emilia? It’s hard to be around an ex normally, but this…” Trailing off, you shake your head.

“What? No. I mean, yeah – it’s not fun to be around them. But no,” Seokjin says, decisive. “I’m not in love with her.”

Your lips tighten, unsure how much to believe. Still, you decide not to push him. Years of experience have taught you that if Seokjin isn’t ready to talk about something, you won’t get a peep out of him. If it were you, though, five months isn’t enough to fall out of love.

“Okay,” is all you say. Glancing at the staff door, you watch Jimin hand the customer their drink. Your break will be over soon, one way or another.

“I’m… actually glad you called me, Y/N.”

The hesitancy in his voice draws you back. “You are?”

“Yeah.” Seokjin clears his throat, a nervous tic. “Jaesuk called me yesterday. You know how my parents’ anniversary is in May?”

“Of course.”

Obviously, you know. Seokjin’s parents are strange for many reasons, not least of which is their genuine love for one another. They are also – you can say this after many years working in consulting – the most normal rich people you’ve ever encountered. Most of their wealth is donated each year, with a small stipend (still an insane amount) granted to each family member.

The weekend of their anniversary is the exception to this rule. Seokjin’s parents go all out, spending an entire week at their lake house, hosting lavish parties which cumulate in the main event. Growing up, you attended as Seokjin’s plus one. This all changed when Seokjin got his first girlfriend, although you still attended a few years later as the date of his sister, Seohyun.

Glancing at the calendar on the wall, you realize their anniversary is coming up. Seokjin’s family will probably leave for their lake house next weekend.

“Yeah.” Seokjin again clears his throat. “So, uh, my brother called and… at first, he and Emilia weren’t going to come. They decided to skip this year because of the obvious.”

“The cuckoldom, yes.”

“I said the obvious,” Seokjin says drily. “But anyways. Well.” He exhales, and you remember again that between you, Seokjin could be called mild-mannered. “Jaesuk wants to know if it would be okay with me if they come together. Emilia’s parents were invited, and they thought it might be weird…”

Your jaw has dropped again. “How would that be weirder than Emilia attending with your brother?”

“I don’t know,” he groans, and from the way his voice muffles, you imagine him laying his head on his desk. Seokjin usually grades papers in the late afternoon.

His apartment is gigantic, a three-story brownstone located in Hyde Park with a view of Lake Michigan. His study (yes, he has a study) always reminded you of the library in Beauty and the Beast. Perhaps a bit smaller, with less fiction on the walls.

Dimly, it registers that Seokjin’s parents invited the Astors. Granted, Emilia’s family runs in the same circle, but the invitation feels odd. Odd – and cruel, to invite Seokjin’s-ex-slash-Jaesuk’s-current girlfriend.

What a mess.

Numbly, you shake your head. “They want you to spend an entire week together? Alone? In the middle of the wilderness?”

“Michigan isn’t exactly Siberia, Y/N.”

“But… you, your brother, and the woman you’ve both slept with – in one house?”

“I probably wouldn’t put it like that, but sure.”

“You… said no, right?”

A long, awkward pause follows.

Your voice rises. “Right?” you demand, gripping the phone tighter.

“No.” Seokjin’s voice muffles once more. “I told them I wasn’t sure, but I’d let them know.”

“Seokjin! You absolutely cannot spend an entire week with them alone.”

“Aha!”

“What?” you ask, blinking at his note of triumph.

“You’re absolutely right. I can’t spend the week with them… alone.”

Your brows furrow. “So… you agree with me?”

“No, Y/N,” Seokjin says. “I can’t spend the week with them alone. But… with someone else…”

A beat passes.

“Are you dating someone new?” you ask. “Is that it? You’re going to subject some poor, unsuspecting person to your Shakespearean family drama?”

“Not a poor, unsuspecting person, no…”

Suspicion slowly dawns. “Seokjin…”

“Yes?”

“You can’t be serious.”

His throat clears. “I was thinking… maybe... you could join.”

The silence stretches between you so long, Seokjin grows concerned. “Y/N?” His voice dims, like he’s checking the call hadn’t dropped. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah,” you croak. “Physically. Mentally, I think something has broken, because I just heard you ask me something insane.”

“See!” Seokjin blurts. “This is why I need you there. You’re so good at making things less awkward. And my family loves you – their attention would all be on you, and not on how weird and insane my life is.”

Groaning out loud, you sink further into the chair. This is a bad idea. Truly abysmal, but…

You already know you’ll say yes. Saying no to Seokjin has never been an option.

Back in college, you joined his family trips all the time. Back then, your dad wasn’t taking care of himself, your mom had run off with her first new boyfriend, and you had nowhere to go during summer holidays. Frequently, the Kim’s referred to you as their second daughter – but all that was ages ago.

Seokjin didn’t even call when he and Emilia broke up.

“Seokjin,” you sigh. “Why are you asking me this?”

A long pause. “I just told you why.”

“No. I mean… I didn’t even know you were single.” You hesitate, then barrel on. “This is the first time we’ve talked on the phone since – god, I don’t even know. Last year?”

Seokjin’s ensuing silence is damning. An unspoken question hovers between you: Has anything changed since the last time we saw each other?

"I’m… sorry, Y/N." He exhales. "I know… I should have reached out to you sooner. I just… I just couldn’t.”

Your lips purse, watching the door. Your break must be over, but luckily, Jimin has given you space to process. As much as he pretends to be needy, his ability to read the room is remarkable.

“Ugh,” you groan, tipping your head back. Your eyes close. “Let me think about it.”

“Wait – really?” Seokjin blurts. “Thank you, Y/N! You won’t regret this – I swear.”

“I haven’t agreed to it yet!”

“Right, sure. Of course,” he hastens, attempting to sound mollified.

Your lips twitch. “I have to get back to my shift.”

“Yes. Make that money.”

“Eh.”

“Make… minimum wage plus tips?”

“Closer,” you sigh, pushing yourself to stand. “I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Okay. And Y/N?”

You hover near the door. “Yeah?”

Seokjin pauses. “There are a lot of logical reasons why it’d be great if you came, but honestly?” His voice thickens. “I just… want you there.”

There’s an ache in your chest you wish could say was a stranger. In truth though, the feeling is exactly why you should say no.

You never had a great sense of self-preservation, though. Instead, find yourself saying–

“Yes.”

Honking outside your apartment at 8:00 AM on a Sunday does little to endear Seokjin to Jimin. Standing by the window of your third story walk-up, he holds the curtain back with his pinky finger. Dressed in a green silk dressing gown, Jimin purses his lips.

“Does he really expect to just… honk, and have you fall in line?”

“That’s what we agreed,” you huff, dragging your luggage into the living room. “He said he would be here at 8:00 and I’d meet him outside.”

Jimin’s frown deepens. “He’s blocking the alley. If someone sideswipes him, that’s not my problem.”

You struggle to break free from your purse strap, which seems determined to fight back. “Seokjin isn’t used to driving in the city, give him a break.”

“Oh, he’s not the one driving.”

“What?”

“Someone else is in the car.”

Succeeding in getting your purse to lay flat, you join Jimin at the window. True to his word, a sleek black town car idles at the curb. The only reason someone hasn’t rammed into it yet is due to the early hour. Otherwise, your neighbors wouldn’t be shy about making their displeasure known. Read: petty vandalism.

Pulling the curtain back further, you curse. Seokjin leans against the side of the car, the trunk already popped. Someone else clearly sits in the front seat, which means Seokjin hired a driver.

“That’s just his driver,” you mutter, turning around.

The curtain falls, and Jimin whirls. “So, he is a one percenter.”

You choose to remain silent, dragging your suitcase to the top of the landing. Jimin follows close behind, hair sticking up in several directions.

“He’s also hotter than you led me to believe,” he accuses, following you down the stairs. You continue to ignore him, your suitcase banging each step. “Granted, I only saw him from three stories up, but I can tell. You undersold. Hmm… now, why would you do that, Y/N?”

“You’re dating Hoseok,” you remind him. “And Seokjin is straight.”

He continues, unbroken. “What would be the reason to downplay your best friend’s hotness?”

There’s a teasing note in his voice that says Jimin knows damn well why you’d do such a thing. It’s the same reason you’re going on this trip, and why you continue to reject every guy he sets you up with.

Reaching the front door, you set your bag down. “Okay,” you growl, turning around to poke Jimin in the chest. “You stay inside. This is precisely why I said I’d meet Seokjin at the curb.”

“Because of me?” Jimin clutches his chest, wounded. “Come on, Y/N. I just wanna see the guy you’re so damn in love with that you refuse to go out with any of my super cool friends. Pleaseeee –”

A loud knock makes you jump.

Eyes wide, you hold a silent, one-sided argument with Jimin that he clearly ignores. Exhaling, you spin around and grasp the handle. This is fine. Everything is fine. You can do this; all you need is to stay cool and composed – all this dissolves when you open the door.

Seokjin stands with a hand outstretched, as though about to knock.

Next to you, Jimin inhales. “Whoa,” he mutters close to your ear. “Okay. I get it.”

Seokjin’s gaze flicks to him. “What?”

Slowly, you turn and glare at your roommate.

To his credit, Jimin swiftly recovers. “I get… I mean, got your scone, Y/N! You forgot it upstairs,” he amends, shoving his own half-eaten scone into your empty hand. “I saw it on the kitchen table, so I followed you down.”

“Oh.” Seokjin looks between you. “That was nice of you…”

“Jimin.” Beaming, Jimin shoves past to shake Seokjin’s outstretched hand. “I’m so glad we met. I’ve heard so much about you – Y/N’s best friend, in the flesh. Someone’s going to hit your car if you continue blocking the alley.”

Seokjin doesn’t seem to know what to do with this information, especially not while Jimin vigorously pumps his hand up and down. Deciding this is too much before coffee, you begin to pass Jimin with your bag in tow.

“Oh – here,” Seokjin hastens, breaking away to grab the handle. “I’ve got it. Nice to meet you, man,” he says, glancing at Jimin.

When you start to leave, Jimin contorts himself enough to drop a kiss on your cheek. A moment of what can only be described as negative sexual tension follows, and you stare at him, baffled, before walking away. Jimin winks as you go, the purpose of which you realize when you catch Seokjin watching.

He looks almost… mad?

He also looks insanely good. The benefit of Jimin being chaotic means you had no time to second-guess your greeting. You were so busy trying to contain the conversation, you didn’t worry about what would be appropriate to say during your first meeting in months.

Now, though, you have time to look at him. Seokjin is simultaneously perfectly put together and artfully tousled. His hair is longer than the last time you saw him, piece-y black waves falling over his forehead. The morning is cold enough that he wears a light jacket, a white button-down and slacks freshly pressed underneath.

Great. Seokjin looks hot. There goes all your hope for a painless vacation.

You glance at your suitcase. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Take my bag,” you huff, reaching out.

Innocent, Seokjin yanks it behind him. “It’s the literal least I can do, Y/N. You’re the one doing me a huge favor.”

“Well, when you put it like that.”

Seokjin chuckles when you head for the car, carefully picking your way to the curb. April showers really did bring the May flowers or, in your case, serious flooding that has since subsided but left a mark.

Sliding into the backseat, you glance at your building and spot Jimin in the window, still clad in his dressing gown. He waves enthusiastically at the car and blows another kiss. Scowling up at him, you almost don’t notice when Seokjin slides in.

When the door shuts, you notice – it should be criminal to smell as good as he does. It doesn’t help that you know exactly which Molton Brown body wash Seokjin uses, nor that you were there when he picked the scent in high school.

The two of you became friends in elementary school. Seokjin was seated beside you in class; his parents wanted him to experience 'normal life' and enrolled him in public school. Really, the only thing normal at that school was his friendship with you.

Extracting yourself from your purse, you watch Seokjin lean forward and press a button. “George?” he asks, lowering the partition.

A middle-aged man sits in the driver’s seat. He smiles at you in the rearview mirror, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“Yes, Mr. Kim?”

Seokjin winces at the formality. “We’re ready to go. I’d like to –”

BEEEEEEEEEEEP.

A car honks from the alley and, hiding a smile, you slump lower. Seokjin blinks, glancing behind you to spot a car revving its engine.

Sighing resignedly, he faces forward. “Wormhole Coffee, George – thank you.”

George nods, ever the professional while rolling up the partition to move the car forward. You rumble along side streets in silence until you peer at Seokjin.

“So,” you say casually. “A driver?”

His gaze meets yours. “The weather looked bad. I figured it’d be nice to have George drive us out of the city.”

“Just out of the city, huh?”

“Yep.” He nods. “Then we’re on our own. Figured we could hitchhike, or maybe steal someone’s car?”

“Oh, cool. With the way the world’s going, I’d hoped to die young.”

Seokjin’s laugh echoes around you. The sound makes your heart twinge, and you move your gaze to your lap. By the time you reach Wormhole Coffee, your thoughts are muddled. You didn’t expect this to be so awkward and – not for the first time – wonder why Seokjin invited you. He could have asked anyone; a co-worker or college buddy, hell, even a neighbor.

Stepping from the car, you barely reach the door before Seokjin appears. “Hey,” he says, placing a hand on your arm.

You blink downward, and he swiftly removes it.

“I… uh.” Again, he clears his throat. “I hope this weekend doesn’t make things weird for you. You know you don’t have to come if things are… complicated.”

You look at him. “If what things are complicated?”

“If” – aimless, he waves – “you know. Let’s say you and I were dating, and you suddenly went on a trip with your guy friend alone. I might feel weird about it.”

You’re so hung up on Seokjin saying you and I were dating, you nearly miss the important bit. Once that sinks in, you can’t help but grin.

Seokjin frowns. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Do you… think Jimin and I are dating?”

Your tone is almost gleeful, and Seokjin’s eyes narrow. “I thought that maybe…”

“We’re not,” you declare, pushing open the door. “But I appreciate the concern. Jimin and I just work together. He’s happily dating someone else.”

“Ah.”

Stopping at the counter, you survey the menu. Ordering one of the spring coffee specials, you move to the end and grab several napkins. Seokjin joins you, waiting patiently until both your orders are called. George is idling at the curb – you have to admit, a personal driver has benefits – and you slide into the backseat with your iced latte procured.

Once the door shuts, Seokjin turns. “I’m sorry. I promised this wouldn’t be awkward, and here I am, being awkward. Thank you… for being here.”

“No problem.”

A loud silence follows, interrupted only by the sound of the car starting. George heads for the highway, and you take a long sip of your coffee.

Despite your exterior, you’re freaking out on the inside. Apparently, you were right to worry because this is going about as terrible as you imagined. Not because of the obvious – you have feelings for your best friend and he’s jealous of his ex – but because somehow, the two of you have nothing to say.

“Seriously.” Seokjin struggles to find his next words. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve been dreading this week. I know I played it cool over the phone–”

“Uh, that was playing it cool?”

“–but actually,” he continues, as though you haven’t spoken, “I’ve been panicking.”

Another twinge when you realize you were right. Seokjin claimed he was over Emilia, but there’s no way he could be. If it were, he wouldn’t need you to be here. He wouldn’t be dreading this interaction if he had moved on.

Of course, Seokjin isn’t over her. They’ve barely been broken up for six months. You’ve waited longer to get a new pet.

“Well, sure,” you say, softening as you face him. “That makes sense. Anyone would be freaked out by the prospect of spending an entire week with their ex. Doubly so, if said ex was now dating their sibling.”

Seokjin pulls a face. “And that’s not even the worst part.”

“… did they kill someone, too?”

“Okay, fine – that is the worst part, but it sucks how weird everyone else is being. How nice,” he elaborates, catching your look. “My parents tiptoe around me, not knowing how to act. Jaesuk is practically self-flagellating, and Emilia is ignoring me, because –”

“Hang on – how is Jaesuk self-flagellating?”

Seokjin exhales and sinks lower. “Jaesuk has apologized to me so many times, he’s going to leave permanent knee indents on my floor. He keeps randomly texting me, offering to buy stuff, which is just plain insulting.”

“You know who isn’t insulted by expensive gifts? Me.” You jab a thumb at your chest. “Tell Jaesuk if he wants to make things up to you, he should make things up to me.”

Rather than laugh at your joke, Seokjin’s face flushes. You tilt your head, unsure where you went wrong until he dispels the tension with a soft chuckle. Eyes narrowed, you study him. Strange.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says. “Anyways, since I said you were coming, things have been almost normal. Now, at least my parents are fixated on you and not whether they should console their broken-hearted son” – he points to himself, mimicking your gesture from earlier – “or celebrate Jaesuk finding new love.”

“Love?”

“Yeah.” Seokjin grimaces. “He let that one slip last week. I think… there may have been feelings between them for a while, even if they never acted on it.”

He doesn’t sound upset, but you can’t keep your own jaw from clenching. Even if Seokjin has moved on from Emilia (which, again, you doubt), their behavior is inexcusable. Seokjin can be as generous as he wants, but you don’t have to feel the same.

Teeth grinding, you wonder how civil you need to be on this trip.

“Can you stop plotting revenge, Y/N?” Seokjin says mildly. “You know that makes me uncomfortable.”

Reluctant, you unclench your jaw. “Who, me?”

“Please.” Seokjin sips his coffee. “You forget I know you, Y/N. Your face is very… expressive.”

“Okay, you’re one to talk!”

Besides, no matter how expressive you are, Seokjin has still never caught onto your biggest secret over the years. The one Jimin guessed right away – that for years, you’ve been madly in love with your supposed best friend.

The knowledge is sobering enough that you turn towards the window. Last December was simply the accumulation of many years of pining – admittedly, you didn’t realize the severity of your feelings until late last summer.

In your twenties, you would have wondered if this week meant something more than friendship. You would have read between the lines of what Seokjin was saying, and saw meaning in his small gestures. Now, you’ve known him for twenty years, and can say with complete certainty that Seokjin is just a good person. He values friendship highly, as much as romantic relationships, and he values you most of all.

And even though he values you, his feelings for you don’t go beyond platonic. It’s better not to go down that road again – no, the only way you’ll survive this week is to take everything at face value. You pulled away for a reason, and now you’re forced to remember. The only way to leave this intact is to continually remind yourself the two of you are just friends.

“I made a playlist,” you announce, unzipping your purse. “It’s everything that you love – study lo-fi beats, classical music, and whale sounds. You know, because of academia?”

Seokjin sighs deeply but obediently plugs in your phone. The first chords of your chill driving playlist come over the speakers, and you settle in. Seokjin responds by pulling out his phone, brow furrowed as he sends off a text. His job can be demanding at times, especially until he gets tenure.

While Jaesuk was groomed to take over the family company, Seokjin was left to pursue his own dreams. For as long as you’ve known him, Seokjin has been fascinated by the people around him. What makes them tick, why people do things, how we influence one another – his first anthropology course felt like coming home, he said back in college.

Even though his career is what Seokjin wants, it doesn’t come without stress. During your twenties, Seokjin entertained you with many tales of bitter rivals, faux plagiarism, and the insane emails his students send to him before class. Most Friday nights were spent at his place, with Seokjin grading papers while you lay on his couch and drank wine.

Swallowing, you stare out the window. The current situation is your fault, you remind yourself. Maybe if you had been braver earlier, more willing to blow up your sense of security for the unknown… then maybe you wouldn’t be in this same place with Seokjin.

The first time you felt more than friendship was in high school. Seokjin transformed overnight, returning from his fancy summer camp at least six inches taller and broader. Somone (probably his sister) bought him styling products, and even though gelled hair is out of touch now – back in high school? Devastating.

You convinced yourself the feelings meant nothing. Hormones. Puberty. Something temporary and fleeting, not the permanent realization Seokjin was your entire world. That came later.

For a few years, you did a good job at convincing yourself. You dated other people, even seriously – David, your first love. The two of you began dating when you were sixteen and lasted until your first semester of college. When you broke up, you called Seokjin and cried to him on the phone for hours. At some point, you fell asleep and woke up to realize he’d never hung up.

Something soft took root in your chest that day. You meant to confess when you came home for winter break, only to reach his family’s Christmas party and find Seokjin arm in arm with his new girlfriend, Lisa. Gorgeous, thin, rich and the same major as Seokjin – you slunk off that night after being introduced as his friend and found comfort with Seohyun in her parents’ wine cellar.

That was the moment you decided to move on. You couldn’t continue to make decisions around the hope Seokjin would one day see you as more. He was a good friend – the best friend – and you valued that, too. For years, you thought you’d succeeded. You dated casually, buried yourself in your work, and watched as Seokjin did the same.

There was a brief scare when you both moved to Chicago, and you found yourself becoming reacquainted. The Seokjin of your childhood had gone, leaving a man in his place. Eventually though, even that faded, and you convinced yourself friendship was enough. It had to be enough, because Seokjin never hinted at wanting more. If he sometimes sat too close or looked at you too long – well, that was just how Seokjin was.

Until Emilia.

Emilia was the first girlfriend Seokjin had who made sense. She fit in with his friends, was of the same upbringing, had the right social status and worst of all, she was nice. Emilia was cool, effortless, and about a million other things which made her a good match for Seokjin. In a horrible burst of karmic justice you realized that summer you didn’t want Seokjin to find a good match. You wanted him to find you.

The realization humiliated you. You were Seokjin’s best friend – you should have been happy for him. You had had years, decades, to confess your feelings and skipped past all of them. You spent so many years insisting you were fine, that these feelings meant nothing, and everything was a lie.

Seokjin was oblivious. Once you understood your own feelings, you realized you had been hiding this from him for years. It made you well-equipped to handle him with Emilia. Or at least, you thought it would. Seokjin continued inviting you to parties, asking you to hang out with him and Emilia, or join them on couple vacations.

At first, you said yes but brought buffers. Hinge dates, friends of friends, even co-workers – despite numerous distractions, none of them worked. By the end of the summer, you had made moves in your career to be happier. Soon after, you realized you needed to do the same in your personal life.

You began to pull away: taking longer to respond to Seokjin’s texts, making excuses when you were invited out, and cancelling plans at the last minute. All throughout the fall this continued, cumulating in December at Seokjin’s birthday party.

He stopped by your coffee shop in November, catching you in the middle of cleaning the espresso machine. “Promise me you’ll come,” Seokjin insisted, leaning over the counter.

Jimin wasn’t on shift that day, and you struggled to remember what piece to clean next. Frustration rose, trapped behind your teeth – at how to clean the machine, nothing more.

“I’ll try,” you said at last, but avoided his gaze.

Seokjin left soon after. Still, him going out of his way triggered your guilt complex enough that you chose to go. Seokjin barely said hello when you arrived. He had a few drinks. So did you. Emilia always stood near him, chatting in the corner with mutual friends.

At some point, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom. For the first time all night, you let your expression drop. Sinking onto the closed toilet seat, you buried your face in your hands and wondered why you had come. You stayed there several minutes, composing yourself enough to exit.

Seokjin waited outside.

Leaning against the wall, his posture seemed stiff. You rarely saw Seokjin angry, but when you did – well, it was hard to stay platonic with that look in his eyes.

“I haven’t seen you all night,” he said, unmoving.

You came to a stop. “It seemed like you were enjoying yourself. I didn’t want to intrude. Happy birthday, though.”

His frown deepened. “Is that all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know.” Seokjin paused, then refocused. “You look nice.”

Noticing the glassiness in his eyes, you sighed, “You’re drunk.”

“Traditionally, people buy the birthday boy drinks.”

“Gross,” you said, unable to keep from smiling. “Don’t ever call yourself the birthday boy again.”

He chuckled and then – silence. Each passing second thickened between you, until you could scarcely breathe.

“Why are you avoiding me?” Seokjin blurted at last.

You inhaled, not having expected him to be so blunt.

“I’m n–”

“Don’t say you’re not.” Swaying a little, he pushed himself from the wall. “I don’t… please don’t lie to me, Y/N. I can’t take it.”

Startled, you realized he had moved closer. There wasn’t much space between you in the hall. Seokjin seemed to realize this at the same moment you did. His gaze darted once, then twice to your mouth – and stayed.

Your throat dried.

At that very moment, Emilia walked around the corner. Seokjin leapt back as though burned, and you swept into motion, mumbling happy birthday again as you passed. You didn’t stop moving until you were past the bouncer and standing outside. Trembling, you pulled out your phone and ordered a rideshare.

Nothing happened that night. Nothing significant, and yet…

His face remains clear in your mind. Cheeks flushed from drink and anger, his button-down partly undone. You remember how the world stopped, continuing to spin on around you. You had felt that way plenty of times in his presence, but it was the first time you wondered if maybe… Seokjin felt it, too.

It didn’t matter though, because he was dating Emilia. You left the party that night and have barely talked to him since. Not until Seokjin called to invite you to his parents’ lake house.

Resting your forehead against the window, you close your eyes as the memory replays again. At some point, you drift off and the rest of the ride is in silence.

The next thing you know is someone touching your shoulder. Blearily, you crack open an eye and are affronted by Seokjin.

Affronted, since it’s unfair for someone to look this good – except. Frowning, you notice his jaw, tight with tension. Seokjin smooths this quickly, but you notice all the same. Examining him further, you find dark shadows beneath his eyes. Criminal for Seokjin Kim, who uses specially made dermatology products that can’t be bought in a store.

Again, you wonder if there’s something he’s not saying. Emilia being with Jaesuk must be weighing on him.

There’s no time to inquire though, since you look out the window and see you’ve arrived. The Kim family lake house sprawls ahead and to the left. Even after so many years, you find yourself struck by the sight.

A driveway winds through the forest, ending at bluffs overlooking Lake Michigan. The limestone mansion is covered in ivy, lending itself to a storybook appearance. Manicured gardens extend towards the lake, several gardeners at work on flower beds. You remember the first time you came; you refused to exit the car. It seemed impossible that so much beauty could be meant for you.

Pushing this away, you face Seokjin. He fidgets with the end of his seatbelt, causing your own frown to deepen.

“What’s wrong?” you demand.

“Nothing,” Seokjin blurts, only to wince. “Well. There is one thing, but I –”

The front door flies open, and you see Mrs. Kim emerge through the car window. Even through glass, you hear her calling your names.

Giving Seokjin a look, you push open your door. He blanches and unbuckles his seat belt. “Y/N, wait –”

Unfortunately, your door is already open. Mrs. Kim gasps when you step outside, hurrying towards you in what she calls ‘casual’ wear – slacks, a cardigan, and loafers worth more than your rent.

“Y/N,” she cries, throwing both arms around you. “Oh, it’s so good to have you here.”

Returning the hug, you can’t help but smile. Seokjin’s family has always felt like home to you. Your mom got pregnant with you at forty-six, which was a shock to everyone. Your sister is twelve years older, but it always felt like more. She was out of the house by the time you turned seven, leaving you alone with your parents.

Some would say that was the beginning of the end. Your parents got divorced when you were in high school and afterward, everything was different. Your dad is fine now but was a wreck for several years. Seokjin’s parents took you in on the holidays, inviting you along on vacations, and threw you birthday parties. It’s been too long since you saw them – probably last summer.

With a final squeeze, you release Mrs. Kim. “It’s so good to be here,” you say.

Being at the lake with Seokjin and his family brings the same sense of rightness as quitting your job. It feels like the moment at the end of a long day when you finish writing and finally crawl into bed.

Holding you at arm’s length, Mrs. Kim looks you up and down. “In fact, I’m so glad to see you,” she says with a chuckle, “I’ll forgive you for not calling the moment it happened.”

Your mind catches on this. “Oh?”

Seokjin appears at your side. He’s out of breath, and you wonder if he was busy lugging your suitcases inside. Usually, the Kim family has people to help with that. His expression is strange though, stuck between fear and resignation. You wonder if this has something to do with what he wanted to tell you in the car.

Stomach swooping, you wonder if there’s another surprise. Maybe Jaesuk and Emilia are engaged. Or pregnant. Maybe –

“You, too,” Mrs. Kim scolds, pulling Seokjin into a hug. He returns the gesture, looking slightly green. “You should have told us sooner! You know we would have been thrilled.”

Seokjin mumbles something you don’t hear as he takes a step backwards. Now, the wheels in your head are turning, and you begin to suspect you’re missing something important. Some key piece of information to explain why Mrs. Kim is beaming, hands clasped over her chest in near-supplication.

“Sorry,” you say, looking between them. “I feel kind of out of the loop… what should I have told you about earlier?”

Mrs. Kim blinks at you in confusion.

You aren’t looking at her, though. Instead, you find yourself watching Seokjin, who purposely avoids eye contact. After a moment, he seems to reach some internal decision. Taking a deep breath, Seokjin reaches out and takes your hand.

“Y/N,” he says, and then stops.

His mom laughs and claps her hands. “Oh! That was a joke – Y/N, you’re too funny. What am I talking about,” she chuckles, as though you’re all in this together. “Why, the fact that you’re dating, of course!”

Time screeches to a halt. Or it at least lethargizes, slowing to rate beyond human comprehension. You slowly turn to face Seokjin, expecting him to show shock or confusion but find only chagrin.

It takes ages for your gaze to travel to your hand in his. Before you can say or do anything, Seokjin moves closer. Stroking your palm with his thumb, he smiles.

“This is exactly why we didn’t tell anyone,” he says with a forced laugh. “We knew you and dad would freak out, and there’s been enough of that lately.”

Realizing your mouth has fallen open, you manage to shut it. Seokjin has pulled himself together, but you’re not that good an actor. He sounds like he believes what he’s saying, which is insane. Dimly, you think back to his serious texting in the car and his attempt to say something before you got out. All of it ends at the same conclusion.

Seokjin knew this was coming. And he didn’t tell you.

Anger surges, and you grasp it like a lifeline. The emotion distracts you from other, less stable feelings churning within you. Lifting your chin, you force your expression to neutral.

“Yes,” you agree, pinching Seokjin’s wrist and making him jump. “It all happened so fast. I mean, if you can call twenty years fast,” you say in an attempt at a joke.

Mrs. Kim laughs again. “Oh, please. You two are made for each other. We’ve always thought so,” she adds, turning towards the house. “Jaeho, come out here!”

Jaw tight, you lapse into silence. Until you know exactly what Seokjin has said and to whom, it’s best to say nothing. The last thing you want is to hurt Seokjin’s family. Right now, your best bet is to hold it together until you can make an excuse to leave. Maybe there could be an emergency at the coffee shop. A run on – uh, beans? Or milk?

The one thing you do know is you can’t stay. Now that you know the full story, there’s no way you can pretend to date your best friend you’re secretly in love with in front of his ex. Just thinking about it gives you a headache.

Before you can pull Seokjin into the house, the door opens again and two people emerge. All thoughts vanish at the sight of a cream blouse and slacks. Seokjin immediately tenses, and unthinking, you take a step closer.

Emilia Astor is the epitome of old Hollywood. Her hair is shorter than the last time you met, cut in an elegant bob with a slight curl at the ends. Immediately, you feel dowdy in your old jeans and sweater. The way she dresses in all white and doesn’t spill anything continues to be awe-inspiring.

Jaesuk walks at her side, shielding his face from the sun. When they stop before you, he smiles at you and Seokjin.

“Y/N!” Emilia holds out both arms for a hug.

After an awkward pause, you step into the embrace. Half of you expects her to whisper something cutting in your ear, but that wouldn’t be like her. You’d deserve it, though, you realize. Face heating, you break the hug, and you consider how this looks.

Yes, Emilia started dating Seokjin’s brother a few months after she and Seokjin broke up. At the same time though, he (seemingly) asked out his best friend. You. A friendship Emilia knew of and trusted to only be platonic. Shoving your discomfort aside, you glance at Jaesuk.

“Hey, Jaesuk,” you say. “Good to see you, too.”

“Hi, Y/N.” He waves, folding Emilia into his side. “It’s really nice to have you here again.”

A small, relieved knot unwinds in your stomach. Jaesuk, at least, doesn’t seem mad at you. Hopefully that means Emilia is also taking the high road. While Jaesuk and Seokjin weren’t close growing up, they did a lot to improve their relationship during their twenties. You would hate for anything you did (perceived or real) to come between them.

Anything Emilia and Jaesuk did, your brain argues. Even if you were dating Seokjin, that’s nothing compared to the betrayal of his brother in dating his ex.

Thinking this, you take a step closer and place your hand on Seokjin’s chest. He glances down at this, then at you. His expression softens.

“There they are!” Mr. Kim’s voice booms, exiting the hedge maze – yes, the hedge maze –with Seohyun. “Finally, the entire family’s arrived.”

Shoving her phone in her pocket, Seohyun skips past her dad. “Y/N!” she cries, looping both arms around you. “My favorite sibling, at last.”

Jaesuk sighs, and Seokjin complains, “You’re not even related.”

“Obviously.” Seohyun withdraws and gives you a conspiratorial smile. “If we were, your relationship would be disgusting – not to mention, illegal.”

Seokjin sputters, and you can’t help but laugh.

Seohyun is two years younger than Seokjin and has always felt like more of a sister to you than your own. One of the hardest parts of the past year was pulling away from Seokjin knowing it meant losing his family. Even with Seohyun halfway around the world in Seoul, your text thread has never been silent for long.

“I missed you, too,” you admit.

Over her shoulder, you notice Emilia looking slightly downcast. She hides it quickly, but not fast enough. Releasing Seohyun, you end up standing beside your – apparent – boyfriend.

“Should we head inside?” Still beaming, Mrs. Kim looks between you and Seokjin. Still, she allows her husband to guide her towards the door. “It’s much too cold for this time in May.”

Jaesuk nudges Emilia. “Agreed. I’ll make a fire in the living room.”

They both head inside, leaving you standing with Seokjin and Seohyun. When you turn towards your suitcase, you realize it’s already moved. Seokjin has your purse over one shoulder, and he gestures you towards the front door.

Brushing past, you head for the house as your anger rises. Seohyun falls into step alongside you, gleeful, and you realize this may have been the wrong choice.

“So,” she says, whistling loudly. “This was a surprise, huh?”  She waggles her eyebrows at you and her brother.

Rolling his eyes, Seokjin walks alongside you. “Did you think I’d give you a call the next morning, or something?”

You nearly choke when you hear what this implies.

Seohyun gags. “Gross. I so did not need the image of you and my brother hooking up. No offense, Y/N. But you could have called before announcing you were dating in the family group chat.”

Seokjin blanches, and you at last take pity on him. “It was my fault,” you say, putting yourself in between the siblings. “I didn’t want Seokjin to say anything until we were sure what this was. Things have been weird enough with… well.” Aimless, you gesture to where Emilia and Jaesuk have disappeared.

“Oh, yeah.” Seohyun turns grim. “That.”

“Seo,” Seokjin grumbles. “I told you – I’m fine with it.”

“Sure, you’re fine with it. That doesn’t mean I am.”

You laugh, unable to help it. “That’s exactly what I said.”

“See?” Triumphant, Seohyun locks arms. “It’s weird, Seokjin.”

The three of you cross the threshold, and for a moment, the nostalgia overwhelms. The black and white checkered tile stretches before you, a double staircase leading to the second and third floors. Above you hangs an antique chandelier, glass and wrought iron reminiscent of lace.

Seohyun breaks towards the kitchen, saying something about a snack before dinner. This leaves Seokjin and you all alone, and the feelings you’ve suppressed come flooding back.

Seokjin lied to you. He planned this. He had so many times to warn you over the past week – in the car ride! – and chose not to.

“Your room,” you snap, refusing to look at him when you walk past. “Now.”

Stopping at the stairs, you remove your shoes and stomp upstairs barefoot. Meekly, Seokjin follows you to the second floor. Muscle memory leads to the north wing, where you and Seokjin used to stay while here with his family. You hover outside his old room, realizing with horror you might be expected to share.

Assuming you decide to stay, that is.

Pushing open the door, you march inside and drop your shoes near the closet. The moment the door shuts, you whirl around.

“Explain,” you demand.

Seokjin hovers over the threshold. “I’m so sorry,” he blurts. “You can leave if you want to.” He takes a deep breath. “I’ll figure something out. Make up some excuse – I promise.”

Dizzily, you shake your head. “That’s not an explanation, Seokjin. Why does your family think that we’re dating? This wasn’t what you asked me to do,” you add, lowering your voice in case someone walks past.

“It was an accident, I swear.” He shoves a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“You didn’t mean to… what? To tell your family we’re dating?”

“No!” Seokjin blurts, then shakes his head. “That’s not what I told them. It’s… okay.” He stops and exhales. “After we talked last week, I put off telling them for a few days. I’ve been pretty silent in the group chat ever since… well, ever since Emilia and Jaesuk announced they were dating. When I finally got up the nerve, I texted them I was bringing you and went into class.”

Your brows lift. “And?”

“And” – Seokjin groans, collapsing onto the chaise – “things had spiraled by the time I got out. Everyone assumed I was bringing you… as my girlfriend. My mom responded saying how happy this made her, then my dad congratulated us on our ‘budding relationship,’ and my mom added how perfect it was…” Seokjin swallows, looking nauseous. “I had a voicemail from Jaesuk, telling me how relieved he felt. He’d been worried about bringing Emilia around, but with me dating someone, he thought this could work…” Seokjin trails off, burying his face in his hands. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’ll fix this.”

It’s a struggle not to react. You tell yourself to stay strong, to hold your ground, but – well, you can’t help it when some of your anger unravels. As well-meaning as Seokjin’s family can be, you understand how it happened.

“Emilia,” Seokjin mumbles into his palms, “texted me saying how happy she was. That she was so glad I wasn’t hurt anymore. She acted like I was so pitiful. And I just… snapped, Y/N.”

“I get it.”

Slowly, he lowers both hands. “You… do?”

“Yeah.”

Seokjin watches you for a long moment. “So… where does this leave us?”

You consider the question, and everything that would follow. On the one hand – Seokjin should have told you. He should have called you the moment his family misunderstood. Or explained on the car ride up.

On the other hand, you’re here now. You saw for yourself how Seokjin isn’t over Emilia. Instead, she came here with Jaesuk and Seokjin is forced to watch them together. Alone.

At last, you exhale and shake your head.

“You should have told me.”

To his credit, Seokjin seems embarrassed. “I know. I should have.” The chaise squeaks when he stands, walking towards you. “Please, Y/N,” he declares, and to your surprise, drops to his knees. “Please, forgive me and fake date me. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll – I’ll do your laundry for a month.”

Eyes wide, you stare down at him. “I have a laundry machine in my unit, Seokjin.”

“Oh.” He considers. “I’ll walk your dog.”

“I don’t have a dog. You know that.”

“You can…” Desperate, he looks around. “You can use this house as a writing retreat! Whenever you want. I promise! All expenses paid, just tell me the dates. I’ll make sure my family clears out.”

This makes you hesitate. While you’ve made steady progress on your novel, it’s been difficult to write in your shared apartment. Jimin doesn’t exactly understand the meaning of personal space, and many a writing session has devolved into a movie marathon.

“Go on,” you say slowly.

Sensing weakness, Seokjin scoots closer. He clasps both hands before him, creating a distracting visual.

“Time to work on your novel,” he intones, his voice low. “Just picture it. This entire place to yourself. The peace and quiet you’ve always wanted but never achieved! Writing paradise! An entire staff at your beck and call. Me, chauffeuring you to and fro, bringing you fresh fruit and –”

“Okay, okay.” Flapping a hand, you gesture for him to stand. “Fine, fine – I’ll do it.”

“Really?” Seokjin bounds to his feet. “Wow, that was easy.”

“To be clear, I would have done it without the lake house.”

His smile vanishes. “What?”

“No take backs,” you say, wagging a finger. “Whenever I want – that’s what you said. I assume that makes it a standing offer? Holidays included?”

“Now, hang on…”

“You’re so generous,” you gush, bending to unzip your suitcase. “Thanks, darling. You do spoil me.”

A beat passes, enough that you look up to find Seokjin staring. Possibly you overdid it with ‘darling.’

Coming to, Seokjin crosses his arms. “Should’ve known you’d take me for all I was worth. You’re merciless, Y/N.”

You blow smoke off an imaginary gun. “We should probably get our story straight, though – right?” you ask, rummaging under your pants. “Like, how did this happen? How long have we been dating? And” – arching a brow, you look upward – “am I really staying in your room this whole week?”

Seokjin frowns, as though this hadn’t crossed his mind. Expression tight, you sit back on your heels. It’s hard not to react to the fact that Seokjin doesn’t want you in his personal space. You would understand if he hadn’t brought this upon himself, but he told his family you were dating, so they’re going to expect you to do dating things.

Rubbing his neck, Seokjin nods. “Yeah. Good point.” He considers, then seems to reach a decision. “How about this: we were hanging out last month, and you confessed that you liked me.”

“I confessed? Hell, no.”

Seokjin blinks. “What? Why?”

“Because! That makes it sound like I was pining for you during your entire relationship and pounced the second you became available.”

Seokjin smirks. “And?”

Incensed, you throw a handful of bras at his head. Seokjin yelps, dodging most of them – except a lacy, black contraption that lands on his shoulder. “Real mature,” he says, delicately removing it. “Anyways. So, we were hanging out last month –”

“When last month?”

“I don’t know!” He throws up his hands. “Pick a weekend. Let’s say I brought you as my date to a faculty function, and… I confessed.” He pauses, then adds, “That makes it sound like I was harboring secret feelings for you the entire length of my relationship.”

“You mean… like your former girlfriend harbored for your brother?”

“Fair point.”

“I still don’t know how you’re okay with all that.”

Seokjin exhales and sits on the bed – avoiding the bra. “I don’t know that I am,” he admits. “Otherwise, I would’ve corrected my family in the group chat – right?”

“Right,” you echo, although something about his tone gives you pause.

He falls back on the mattress. “Right,” he says, speaking to the ceiling. “So, we have the whole ‘how did this happen’ question down. And how long – we’ve been dating for a month. What about the rest?”

“You mean, where am I staying this week?”

Propping himself up on an elbow, Seokjin peers at you down his torso. “I can figure something out if you want. We can move to the joined rooms down the hall. They have a terrible view,” he muses. “But I can say this room had a draft, or something. That way you can go to the other room at night, and –”

“Seokjin. I don’t mind staying here.”

He hesitates. “You don’t?”

“No. I mean, this isn’t the first time we’ve shared a room. Or have you forgotten the backpacking trip?”

A devious smile crosses his face. “How could I forget? Remember when you booked us a room in someone else’s house?”

“That wasn’t my fault!” you insist. “I swear, the listing changed after I booked. Anyways, Rodolfo was very nice.”

“He asked you out twice,” Seokjin says flatly.

“Can you blame him?”

He pauses, then tilts his head. “No.”

Finding yourself in unfamiliar territory, you blink. Then it occurs to you Seokjin is probably flirting with you for practice. That way, it seems genuine in front of his family. Satisfied, you resume pulling things from your suitcase.

“Um, right,” you say. “But that just proves my point. This isn’t the first time we’ve shared a room.”

“Yes, but…” Seokjin waves a hand at the mattress.

Oh. Right – that.

The room, despite its size, has only one bed.  Granted, the bed is King-sized, so there’s enough room for you both, but still. While the two of you have shared a room several times over the years, never a bed.

“Okay.” You frown. “That’s fine – I can sleep on the floor. Or on the couch.”

Seokjin gives you a wry look. “Y/N. I got us into this situation. The least I can do is sleep on the couch.”

“Will you even fit? You’re not as young as you once were.”

“Ouch.” Seokjin huffs a laugh, massaging his chest with one hand. Annoyingly, your gaze follows the motion. “I didn’t realize this week would include personal roasting sessions. Are you trying to tear down my self-confidence, Y/N?”

“As though anything I said could make a dent in that.”

Something about this seems to amuse him, but Seokjin says nothing. Pushing himself to stand, he claps both hands together. “We can figure that out later. For now, we’ve established you’ll stay here. In my room,” he adds.

“Fine,” you say, standing with an armful of clothes. “You may need to grab some more hangers, though. These dresses can’t wrinkle.”

Bowing extravagantly, Seokjin backs away. “Your wish is my command,” he declares, continuing the bit as he enters the hall. “And Y/N?” he adds, straightening.

You look over your shoulder. “Yeah?”

Seokjin watches you seriously, his expression at odds with his usual humor. “Thanks,” he says, quiet.

A shiver goes through you. “You’re welcome.”

He nods and disappears. Left alone with your stuff, you stare at the suitcase, heart pounding. So much for self-preservation. No matter how badly you insist that you’re fine, that your feelings are over, look where you are.

At the Kim family lake house, surrounded by memories and the people who haunt them. A cold sense of foreboding steals over you. With so many secrets to hide, so many years of pushing feelings down, you can’t help the feeling that something will drop.

You can only hope you survive the aftermath.

One thing you did not miss about the Kim’s is their shared love of hiking. Even Seohyun, usually your partner in crime, has changed into athleisurewear so expensive, you don’t know the label. Soon after you and Seokjin unpack, Mrs. Kim suggests a walk to ‘work up an appetite’ before dinner.

Having been on many Kim family vacations, you know a ‘walk’ can mean anything from a paved path to bouldering. Accordingly, you shove your feet into sneakers and tie a sweatshirt around your waist. Your preparation pays off when the family town cars drop you off at a local trail head. Now, you find yourself huffing and puffing up a hill that on paper shouldn’t exist in the Midwest.

“Ugh,” huffs Seohyun, trekking alongside you. “I’ve been so busy with work I’ve barely hiked the past year. Which is dumb, because Seoul is literally in the mountains. I’m so out of shape.”

“Same,” you agree. “Although not because of work – it’s because I hate hiking.”

Seohyun laughs, ponytail bobbing. “I missed having you on these things. Emilia loves hiking,” she adds, lowering her voice. “And working out. She even goes running before breakfast – on purpose! Vile.”

“I mean, so does Seokjin,” you point out.

“Exactly!” Seohyun sounds triumphant. “Seokjin and Emilia are too similar. It’s why they were doomed. You can’t date yourself in a different font, Y/N. It’s boring.”

Curious, you glance over at Seokjin. He hikes beside his mom in the middle, discussing his research and her latest project. You had never considered him and Emilia in that light before. Instead, you thought their similarities were a sign of compatibility. Now that you think about it though, Seokjin never confided in you about their relationship.

While you watch, Seokjin runs a hand through his hair. His face is truly unfair – concrete proof that god has their favorites. No way should one person be that good-looking and able to carry a conversation.

Seohyun groans beside you. “Okay, I take it all back. This might be worse than having to race Emilia up a mountain. You and Seokjin are sickening.”

Gaze jerking forward, you feel your face feat. Ironically, you weren’t even thinking about the faux relationship just now. That was just your expression looking at Seokjin. If it helps to sell this nonsense, you suppose it’s a good thing. So long as Seokjin doesn’t suspect your feelings are true.

You can’t keep your thoughts from drifting towards once this week is over. After you leave the lake house and return to the city – what then? Seokjin will have to tell his family something. Will he tell them you broke up? Either way, it seems like your relationship is about to change, and you aren’t sure if that’s good.

Returning to Seohyun, you force a smile. “Hey, at least you’re not the worst hiker here anymore. Count your blessings.”

Someone beside you chuckles. “You’re definitely not the worst, Y/N,” says Emilia, pulling her backpack around to unzip.

Both you and Seohyun jump. Exchanging a swift glance, you wonder how long Emilia has been within hearing distance. Luckily, you didn’t say anything too bad… you think.

Emilia doesn’t let anything show on her face, taking a large sip of water. “The first time I went hiking with Jaesuk, I sprained my ankle and had to hop all the way to the car.”

Jaesuk catches up on her other side. “Excuse me,” he jokes. “If I remember correctly, I carried you most of the way. You only hopped in the parking lot.”

Emilia blinks at him innocently, and Jaesuk laughs. Seohyun ignores them both, taking a long sip of her water. Taking pity on them, you jump in.

“You still agreed to a hiking date,” you say. “In winter. That makes you automatically better than me, I think.”

Seokjin turns around and hikes backwards. “Y/N’s not wrong,” he calls back. “Remember the first time we went hiking in high school?”

“Oh, that’s right!” Mr. Kim cranes his head around at the front. “Y/N, didn’t I end up taking you to the emergency room?’

Seohyun hoots with laughter and your face burns. “I don’t think it was that–”

“You did! Seokjin insisted,” says Mrs. Kim, smiling at her son. “You said you were fine, Y/N, but Seokjin would have none of it. He pulled up WebMD and read you possible maladies until you gave in.”

Choosing not to respond, you glance at Seokjin. You remember that day very differently. Seokjin was concerned, yes, but he would have done the same for anyone. His reaction had nothing to do with feelings for you, which seems to be what his family is implying.

You aren’t the only one thinking that. Emilia’s gaze darts between Mrs. Kim and Seokjin, a small frown on her face.

“I was fine,” you say, steering the conversation away. “Seokjin overreacted.”

Seokjin slows to hike alongside you. “You had a hairline fracture! You were in that boot for months – remember? You got out of running the mile twice.”

“I was in the boot for a month.”

“They always bickered like this,” says his mom fondly. “We should have realized.”

Seohyun squints your way. “Mm. I always suspected they were more than platonic. Come on – a euro trip? As friends?”

“Seohyun,” Seokjin says, a warning clear in his voice. At the same time, you blurt out, “It was platonic.”

Several heads turn in your direction. Realizing you made a mistake, you backtrack. “I mean,” you hasten, “feelings came… later.”

There’s a long moment of silence until Seohyun nods.

“Anyways.” Jaesuk places his hand on Emilia’s back. “You’re a better hiker than you think, Y/N. You made it up sweat mountain, remember?”

“Don’t remind me,” you groan while Seokjin cackles.

Sweat mountain is an aptly named monstrosity Seokjin convinced you to hike while in college. You thought the name was merely a metaphor, but it was the mountain’s actual name. All you can assume is so many people collapsed from heat stroke mid-trail that they decided to leave the name as a warning.

“Today feels like sweat mountain,” Seohyun gripes. “How much further until the parking lot?”

“You’re being dramatic.” Mrs. Kim hikes past her. “This is only a three-mile walk! The parking lot is just around that curve.”

Like the traitor she is, Seohyun picks up her pace. Admittedly, today is the perfect day for hiking. The temperature is cool enough to avoid sweat, but warm enough your sweatshirt has stayed around your waist. It’s not their fault you abhor physical exercise that doesn’t end with a treat.

As though reading your mind, Seokjin pulls a protein bar from his pocket. “Hungry?”

“I’m fine,” you grumble, but – after a moment – take the bar. “Thanks.”

Seokjin watches you unwrap it and stuff half in your mouth. His lips twitch. “I’m sorry about this, by the way. I did try to offer an out at the house.”

Jaw dropping, you remember too late about the half-chewed protein bar. “Um, excuse me,” you cough, trying to swallow. “What you said was ‘Y/N might be too tired to come.’ What kind of excuse is that?” you demand, turning around to watch him as you hike. “It makes it sound like I hold you back.”

Seokjin’s eyes widen. “They never would have accepted that I was too tired. Mom would’ve said, ‘the fresh air will invigorate you,” he quotes in an uncanny imitation of Mrs. Kim. “As a guest, you have immunity. My mom would’ve allowed it.”

“Well…” You stuff the rest of the bar in your mouth. “Oo sh’o’d’ve said ‘at ‘efore we went ‘own’airs.”

“I didn’t know that we were– Y/N!”

Your sneaker hits a rock, ankle twisting as Seokjin darts forward. For a moment, you flail wildly before collapsing.

“Oof,” you grunt, your palms hitting the dirt. The jolt rattles enough that you wince, pride smarting as much as your hands.

“Y/N.” Seokjin drops to one knee. His hands pat your arms, gentle while checking you over. When you wince, his face darkens. “Are you hurt?”

You admit he plays the caring boyfriend card well. You see why Emilia fell for him in the first place.

“N-no,” you stutter, wishing the earth would swallow you whole.

Luckily, the rest of his family is too far ahead to see. It would have been doubly awful to have Seokjin’s perfect ex bear witness to your humiliation.

Turning your palms over in his, Seokjin slides both hands to your elbows. “Can you stand?” he asks, pulling you up. “Test your weight on your ankle.”

“My ankle is fine,” you grumble, but oblige.

Slowly, you place weight on your leg and although it feels fine, you notice your leggings are ripped. Your knee is bleeding, but otherwise you seem okay. Noticing the blood, Seokjin’s frown deepens.

Shifting to stand before you, he lowers himself again to his knee. “Hop on,” Seokjin says, glancing over his shoulder.

You stare down at him, open-mouthed. “Huh?”

“Hop on.” Seokjin pats his back. “How else are you going to get to the car?”

“With my… feet?”

He scowls. “You’re bleeding, Y/N. And your palms are all scratched up. There’s a first aid kit in the backseat – I can clean you up there.”

Ignoring how your stomach flutters, you gingerly bend and loop both arms around his neck. Seokjin pushes himself upward, gathering your legs and walking forward. Your nose ends up near his neck, breathing his clean, masculine scent.

Lift is unfair. It’s all too easy to imagine this day in different circumstances. To imagine Seokjin taking care of you, being there for you as your boyfriend. Shifting closer, you close your eyes and enjoy the warmth.

The daydream ends when you exit the forest.

Seeing you, Mrs. Kim drops her backpack. “Y/N!” she gasps, rushing forward. “What happened?”

Capping her water bottle, Seohyun seems caught between fear and amusement. “How… we were just talking about hiking accidents!”

“I’ll get the first aid kit,” Emilia declares. She disappears around the side of one car.

You stifle the urge to bury your face in Seokjin’s shoulder. “I’m fine,” you say as he comes to a stop. “Really.”

Marching to the trunk of one car, Seokjin turns around to set you on the edge. Kneeling before you, he removes your sneaker and peels your legging upward.

“Here you go.” Emilia appears, a first aid kit in hand.

Seokjin accepts this without comment. Over his shoulder you mouth, thank you, to her. Smiling fleetingly, Emilia retreats to stand beside Jaesuk. Mr. Kim shoos everyone away to give you some privacy.

Removing a water bottle from his backpack, Seokjin pours this over your knee. You hiss and jerk back.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, soothing your calf with his thumb. “This’ll sting.”

“A little late,” you complain, but the barb is half-hearted.

Gripping the edge of the trunk, you watch Seokjin clean your skin with a damp cotton ball. The pain soon dulls, replaced with soft pressure of his hand on your leg. Seokjin bends closer, his breath warm while blowing dirt away from the wound.

Looking upward, Seokjin pauses at whatever he sees on your face. A beat passes, then two, until he withdraws.

“That should be good enough until we get home.”

Dazed, you blink. “Oh. Right. Thanks.”

Seokjin stands, watching you roll down your legging and slip on your sneaker. When you wince, he offers an arm and helps you towards the car. George holds the door open, shutting it behind you to move to the driver’s seat.

Seohyun hooks up her phone, glancing over her shoulder from the passenger seat. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” she says miserably. “I feel like I caused this.”

Confused, you buckle your seat belt. “Oh? Did you place a rock directly on the trail behind me?”

“No, but I was going on and on about accidents, and –”

“It wasn’t your fault,” says Seokjin, entering from the other side. He shuts the door. “But if you waste more time sitting here, it will be your fault if Y/N gets gangrene.”

“Okay, now you’re being ridiculous,” you complain. “I’m not even bleeding.”

George places the car into drive and Seohyun rolls her eyes. “Mom was right. Seokjin has always been way too protective for his feelings to be anything but romantic.”

Choosing to stay silent, you look out the window. In its reflection, you catch sight of Seokjin watching you from the next seat. Unbidden, your heart skips a beat.

For a moment, you consider what everyone has been saying. You remember the day you broke your foot in high school. You remember it clearly, because it was the first night you dreamed of Seokjin. Before that, he was just a friend.

After …  

You couldn’t stop thinking about the way he touched you, the way he insisted on getting you help. It was the first step down a long path of falling in love with him.

And a small, tiny voice whispers that maybe – just maybe – his mom and sister have a point. Maybe they saw things that day that went over your head. As soon as you think this though, you dismiss it. Obviously, Mrs. Kim says now it was fate. It’s confirmation bias, since she thinks you and Seokjin are currently dating.

And yet, you continue to watch Seokjin in the window’s reflection. The sting of your knee has receded, but the prospect of him feeling nothing for you is somehow the worse wound.

By dinnertime, it’s a struggle to keep your eyes open. The morning latte was ages ago, and the glass of wine after hiking doesn’t help. Once the last course at dinner clears, you stifle another yawn and Seohyun catches your eye.

“Y/N, will you please go to bed?” she says, dropping her fork. “You’re making me tired.”

Immediately, you straighten. “I’m fine!”

“Mom.” Seokjin politely removes his napkin from his lap. “What are the plans for tonight?”

Mrs. Kim takes a sip of her port. “Nothing, really. I think your dad wanted to watch that new action movie.”

Mr. Kim grunts in agreement.

“The one we saw in theatres last fall?” asks Jaesuk. “That was a good one.”

“I’ve been wanting to watch,” Emilia adds.

Seohyun shrugs. “I guess I can join, too.”

“Great.” Pushing his chair back, Seokjin takes your hand. “Y/N and I are wiped. We’re going to bed.”

“Hey!” Seohyun gasps. “You tricked us.”

“Get some sleep,” calls Mrs. Kim.

Seokjin leads you from the dining room, dropping a kiss to his mom’s hair as he passes. His other hand remains in yours, pulling you through the foyer and up the staircase.

“Was I that obvious?” you ask, sheepish.

Seokjin does a double take at you. “Oh, you mean – was your yawning that obvious? Yes, Y/N. Pretty sure the space station will message any second about the morse code.”

“Message them back and tell them no one watches for free. Not even astronauts.”

“W-ow. You run a tight ship, Y/N.”

“It’s called knowing your self-worth,” you sniff, following him down the hall. “You should try it.”

“I do know my self-worth. If you’d like, we can Google it right now – hey-o!” Seokjin cries, holding up a hand for you to high five.

Ignoring him, you walk into the room. Seokjin chuckles and follows, shutting the door behind you. Holding the vanity, you bend and undo a shoe strap. You’ll never forget the first time you visited – Mrs. Kim asked you to leave your shoes in the hall overnight. You were confused before learning the staff clean their shoes every day so they can wear them to dinner.

Fumbling with the clasp, you kick helplessly and hope the shoe gives up before you do.

“Hang on,” Seokjin sighs. Again, he kneels before you – this is becoming a habit. “Put your foot on my knee.”

You stare as though he’s grown a second head. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you take off your shoes. I thought that was obvious.” He pats his thigh. “Put your foot here.”

Unable to summon the energy to fight, you lift your foot. If Seokjin is surprised by your obedience, he does a good job of hiding it. Bending, he delicately undoes the clasp of your shoe. Dark hair falls in his face while he works.

Seokjin hesitates, one hand on your ankle. He looks up. “I really am sorry about all of this, Y/N.”

Your heart thumps, and it takes a second longer for your brain to catch up.

His lips twist. “First, I lied to you. Then, I asked you to lie to my family. And now… you’re hurt because of me.” He looks down. “This was an awful idea, and I’m just… sorry, Y/N. Say the word and I’ll drive you home. I’ll explain everything to my family. No matter how awkward.”

“Hey,” you murmur. Reaching down, you pull Seokjin upward to stand.

Seokjin towers over you, looking slightly pathetic.

“It’s okay,” you say gently. “Really. Am I thrilled by some of your choices? No. Definitely not. But do I understand?” Slowly, you exhale. “Yeah. I unfortunately do.”

He seems to war with something internally but nods. “That’s because you’re a saint.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.”

Seokjin chuckles, and you smile. “Besides,” you say, holding up both palms. “I’m fine. Barely a scratch from earlier – see?”

Taking your hand, he studies your palm longer than medically necessary. “So…” He looks at you. “What does this mean, Y/N? Are you saying you’ll stay the week, or…?”

“Will I stay here and pretend that we’re dating? Sure.”

Seokjin groans and tips his head back. “God. That sounds so sad.”

Laughing, you take a step closer. Reaching for him, you slide both hands into his hair and lower his face. His lashes flutter, staring down at you.

“Don’t worry,” you say quietly. “I could never think less of you, Seokjin Kim.”

His throat works as he swallows. “I bet you say that to all the guys.”

“No – I really don’t.”

Dropping your hands, you step backwards. Shakily, you inhale and try to forget the feeling of his skin beneath your palms.

“So,” you say. “We have a full week of couple activities ahead.”

Seokjin nods, and you fall into the rhythm of unpacking. Moving around the room, you ask what he’s been up to lately and let Seokjin chatter about work. The events of today crash over you without warning, leaving you emotionally and physically drained.

This is probably why you accept so fast when he offers to take the couch. Grabbing your pajamas, you lock yourself in the bathroom to wash your face. When you emerge, you all but leap into the giant bed.

Seokjin disappears into the bathroom soon after, and you struggle to stay awake. Sometime after the shower starts though, you drift off, falling asleep before he can return.

A cacophony greets you the next morning. People call the city noisy, but those sounds you’re used to. What you’re not used to is the sound of two birds having a full-blown tiff outside your window. In response, you roll over and stick your head beneath a pillow.

Easy to do since you have the bed to yourself. Realizing this, you slowly peer out from under the pillow at the couch.

Empty.

Unease pricks your stomach. Seokjin did sleep here last night – didn’t he? As soon as you think this, you notice the mussed blanket and pillow. Okay, so he slept here at some point, even if he’s gone now.

Rolling onto your back, you unplug your phone from the wall. 8:04 AM. After ten minutes of scrolling, you manage to push yourself into a seated position. Eventually, nature calls loud enough that you roll from bed. With face washed and teeth brushed, you feel marginally ready to start the day.

The couch is still empty. Frowning, you walk towards the window and pull back the curtain. Seokjin could have gone on a run – or maybe, chimes a little voice in your head, he realized how silly this is and went to tell everyone the truth. Maybe he went to confess his feelings to Emilia. Maybe Jaesuk and Seokjin went to go duel before dawn.

Releasing the curtain, you head for the shower. This is why you don’t talk to people before coffee. Stepping under the spray, you tilt your head and let hot water sluice down your back. Despite your best efforts, the shower unfortunately proves a great place to overthink.

Again and again, you rehash the events of yesterday. The look on Seokjin’s face when his mom said you were dating. Hise expression asking you to stay. The way he looked while dabbing your knee with a cotton ball. For so long, you’ve survived by shoving your feelings aside. It’s been a long time since you considered what Seokjin felt for you.

Twenty years of history point you towards nothing. But then, you’ve had feelings for him just as long and never told him. Sighing, you finish washing and step from the shower. The safest course of action is to do nothing and yet, the thought leaves an itch in your brain.

Again, you remind yourself, all you can do is take his words at face value. Seokjin asked you to be his fake girlfriend, not his real one. That’s all this is. Anything more leads to a slippery slope you might not return from.

Wiping steam from the mirror, you realize you left your clothes in the other room. Wrapping a towel around your torso, you crack open the door.

Holy fuck.

Seokjin has returned. Well, that much is obvious because he’s standing in the middle of the room dressed in navy sweats and… nothing else.

Mouth dry, you watch him bop along to a song on his ear pods. You try – and fail – not to gape at the way his shoulders narrow to the sharp v of his waist. The last guy you hooked up with was a definite gym rat, full of muscles made mainly for show. Seokjin is hot without trying. His biceps flex when he grabs a t-shirt, frowning into the mirror – and meeting your gaze.

“Ahh!” Seokjin yells, the t-shirt whipping away as he turns.

“Ahh!” you return, stumbling backwards. Clutching your towel, you nearly trip over a different t-shirt lying on the floor.

Seokjin braces himself on the wardrobe. “WHAT ARE – hang on, shit,” he swears, yanking out his air pods. “You’re, uh – Y/N. You’re here?”

“Yep,” you say, your voice way too high. “I was in the shower,” you add, jerking a thumb over your shoulder.

Seokjin follows the gesture, only to snag on your body. Too late you remember you’re in only a towel. Before now, this fact seems to have eluded him. Seokjin openly stares, not bothering to hide his appraisal. Heat trails each place his gaze lingers until the bird argument outside resumes – this time, at twice the volume.

The spell breaks. “Sorry,” you blurt, rushing to grab your clothes. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“I – I wasn’t. I was on a run.”

“Okay,” you squeak, edging around him. Slamming the door shut, you collapse against it. “Fuck,” you hiss.

On the other side, you hear Seokjin utter the same. Eyes wide, you turn your head to stare at the wood.

Coincidence. Or he was swearing because of how awkward that was, not because he was also struck dumb by the sight of you mostly naked. Right?

Your head hits the door with a thunk. You should have taken Seokjin up on his offer to drive you home yesterday. Not even one day has passed and you’re already overthinking this. Worse, you can’t stop rehashing the events of last year. Seokjin never answered your question about why he hasn’t reached out to you since December.

Suddenly, you still as realization dawns. Seokjin and Emilia broke up in December. You know they were still together on his birthday, which means they broke up after.

What if… Emilia saw you in that hallway? What if she broke up with Seokjin because she suspected something between you? That would make her the victim. Granted, she didn’t have to go and date Seokjin’s brother, but it would explain her discomfort around you. It would explain why she seems to flinch at every mention of your shared past with Seokjin.

If that’s true, then it means their breakup was partly your fault. Of course, you know this wouldn’t be your fault alone. If their relationship had been solid, it could have withstood a moment of jealousy. Still, the thought lingers as you get dressed, entering the bedroom to find Seokjin has gone.

You continue to think about this during breakfast, watching the way Emilia interacts with the rest. By the end of the meal, you’ve learned nothing certain. If anything, you find yourself reaching the conclusion that whatever the truth is, it doesn’t matter. Not when what’s done is done.

Seokjin and Emilia are no longer dating. Now, she’s with Jaesuk. And you’re here to provide Seokjin platonic support.

Nothing about this has changed, so you need to concentrate on the task at hand. Something you can do, even if the cost is one you pay in your own heartache.

Mrs. Kim passes out individual itineraries after breakfast, resulting in a swift wave of nostalgia. Your own family would fit in well with Jimin’s friends, planning everything the day of and flying by the seat of their pants. Kim family vacations were a dream come true for you growing up, since Mr. and Mrs. Kim always had things under control.

Mr. Kim may have been the one born into money, but Mrs. Kim is no shrinking violet. Her mother raised her by herself; Mrs. Kim finished law school while working odd jobs, eventually rising to the rank of Chief Legal Officer at the Kim Corporation. It was something of a scandal when she announced she and Mr. Kim had wed, and she would be transitioning to the non-profit sector. One time at dinner, she confided in you with a wink this had been her goal from the start.

The entire week is planned down to the minute, with ‘free time’ scheduled for several days. Seokjin stares in dismay at all the events he’s been signed up for until you gently take his paper and fold it in yours.

Today is simple enough: the local farmer’s market, then lunch. Dinner tonight is just family, but tomorrow you’ll be joined by dinner guests. Thursday is a cocktail party, and then Saturday evening is the main event. You notice the Astors listed only for Saturday, which eases some of your tension.

“I’ll drive Y/N and I,” Seokjin says once breakfast is over. Standing, he scoops a pair of keys from the bowl. “We’ll meet the rest of you there.”

Seohyun waves from the coffee pot, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. When Emilia enters with Jaesuk, Seoyun pointedly turns around and brings her coffee to the porch.

Noticing, you can’t help your guilty conscience. “Seohyun seems mad,” you remark to Seokjin as you climb the stairs.

Seokjin glances at the back porch. His lips thin. “Yeah. I think… the situation feels more personal for her. One of her friends dated an ex back in college, and it led to a lot of drama. I don’t think they stayed friends, so she feels bad for me.”

“Oh,” you murmur. You, too, lost a friend during college when she slept with your boyfriend. “I get that. In some ways, losing a friend is harder.”

As you enter the room, Seokjin opens the closet. “I don’t need her pity, though,” he calls from inside. “I’m fine with the situation. And besides, it’s not the same.”

“Is it not?”

“No!”

Wisely choosing to stay silent on the matter, you sit on the sofa and wait for him to change. Seokjin appears a moment later in a cream shirt and slacks, a jean jacket in hand. Well, fuck you, too, then.

Seokjin pauses, squinting at himself in the mirror. “It’s not,” he continues. “Seohyun was still in love with her ex. I’m not.”

Your brows shoot upward. “Oh, no? This whooole situation” – you wave a hand – “would beg to differ.”

Seokjin meets your gaze in the mirror. “It’s not the same. I don’t… think Emilia and I were ever really in love.”

You take a moment to digest this. “Okay, now you’re being ridiculous.”

His expression tightens. “Do you really think someone in love with me could have fallen so fast for Jaesuk? Do you think I could have–” Abruptly, he cuts himself off.

Curious, you stare, but he doesn’t continue. Searching for a way to prod without being obvious, you inhale and a door slams downstairs.

“Y/N! Seokjin!” Jaesuk calls up. “We’re heading out!”

Jolted into motion, Seokjin pulls on his coat. “Coming!” he calls. To you, he murmurs, “Come on. We don’t want to be late.”

Mind reeling, you follow him down the stairs. You didn’t imagine it, did you – the way Seokjin seemed on the verge of saying something important?

And what about the other thing he just said – that he never loved Emilia? Frustration chokes the many emotions roiling within you. That was the only thing about this week which made sense. If Seokjin still was in love with Emilia, it would make sense why you’re here. It would make sense why he said nothing when his family assumed you were dating.

It would not make sense if he did all those things and is over his ex. If… Seokjin doesn’t love Emilia and never did.

By the time you reach the car, you’ve decided against calling Seokjin out. Instead, you’ve delusionally convinced yourself nothing between you has changed. You agreed to stay this week and pretend to be dating. The why doesn’t matter.

Except – what if it does?

Pushing away the thought, you buckle your seatbelt and realize Seokjin has taken this time to commandeer the stereo. A playlist called Reel Love blares, comprised of songs about love and fishing.

You shoot Seokjin a look, and he bites down on his lip to keep from laughing. For now, you tell yourself it’s enough to have your friend again. Concentrating on this fact, you lean your head to the window and watch the scenery pass.

Rumbling into town, you find yourself in desperate need of some fresh air. Seokjin has the type of presence which grows to fit whatever container he rests in. A gaseous human, if you will. Stepping from the car, you take several breaths to wash away the after-effects of proximity.

Closing the door, you survey the town. Bear’s Nook is sleepy during the edge seasons, dead in the winter, and vibrant in summer, like so many towns along the lakeshore. Right now, it’s starting to wake up, but crowds won’t show up in full force until June.

Only the locals and families like Seokjin’s arrive this time of year. People mosey in and out of the storefronts, although the main farmer’s market is in a warehouse on Main Street. George seems to be sticking around, dropping the rest of the family off in front of the market.

Seohyun shivers in short sleeves, woefully unprepared. “Race you,” she blurts, darting for the entrance.

Shaking her head, Mrs. Kim takes her husband’s arm. The entire group moves down the sidewalk, entering the market in a loose line. Stalls stretch the length of the warehouse full of fruits, vegetables, and all the craft goods you could want.

Seokjin and Mr. Kim drift towards a fishing table, and Seohyun calls her mom over to a produce stand. Despite most of the cooking being done by the staff, Mrs. Kim still enjoys preparing a few dishes each week. You drift past them both, unsure what you’re looking for as you start to wander.

At the end of the next row, your phone buzzes. Fishing it from your purse, you see Jimin’s name. Frowning, you swipe.

Jimin: how long did it take for Seokjin to ask if we were dating [10:20 AM]

Jimin: on a scale of one (first thing he asked) to ten (still hasn’t) [10:21 AM]

Coming to a stop at a candle stand, you text back.

Y/N: You little sneak [10:22 AM]

Y/N: …about a minute in [10:22 AM]

Jimin: HA [10:23 AM]

Jimin: knew it [10:23 AM]

Y/N: You knew what? [10:23 AM]

Jimin: Y/N, please. It’s obvious that man has feelings for you [10:23 AM]

Y/N: Jimin, noooo [10:24 AM]

Y/N: You saw him for ten seconds [10:24 AM]

Y/N: It’s not like that, I promise [10:24 AM]

Y/N: Believe me [10:24 AM]

Jimin: …. [10:25 AM]

Jimin: no [10:25 AM]

You’re frantically typing something to the effect of that’s not how friendship works when you notice someone hovering nearby. Glancing from your phone, you realize Emilia is watching from a coffee stand. Meeting your gaze, she smiles and waves you over.

After a moment’s hesitation, you return your phone to your pocket. Reluctantly joining the line, you pretend to study the coffee board.

“So.” Emilia exhales, glancing sideways. “This is awkward, right?”

Startled, you face her. While Emilia continues to smile, you can see the forced tightness around her eyes.

“Well…” You shrug. “I wasn’t going to call it out, but since you mention it…”

She laughs, the sound bright. When she and Seokjin started dating, you thought her laugh was fake, but no – that’s just how she sounds. You suppose if you had been brought up with a silver spoon in your mouth, you might also laugh like a Disney princess.

Immediately, you deflate. You shouldn’t be mean to her. But then again, the last time you checked, there were no guidelines about how to act with the girlfriend of your fake boyfriend’s brother, who used to date your fake boyfriend.

Seokjin is right. Saying it out loud is just sad.

“Did you… know I met Jaesuk before Seokjin?”

That captures your attention.

You blink. “No. I didn’t know that.”

She nods, lost in thought. “He was a counselor at my summer camp. I was seventeen and Jaesuk was in college, so of course, nothing happened.” A soft laugh. “He barely even noticed my existence.”

“Ah.”

The line moves forward, and you take a small step.

Emilia isn’t done. “We had this moment, though… at the end of the summer. My camp boyfriend broke up with me for Jennie Sarasota. Jaesuk found me crying behind the kayaks and told me I was too good for that idiot. It was the first time a man said that to me,” she says. “My dad is a traditional guy. He’s… well, he’s not very nice.”

Again, the line moves. Stopping closer to the kiosk, you face Emilia fully. “Why are you telling me this?” you ask. “Is this… some kind of explanation for why you cheated on Seokjin?”

Emilia’s eyes widen, and her gaze darts around. People from their world always worry about who might overhear. To be fair, you did just say the quiet part out loud.

“Y/N,” she whispers. “I didn’t cheat on Seokjin. And that’s not what I was trying to tell you.” Her face scrunches. “What I felt for Jaesuk at camp wasn’t real. It was a childish crush on a guy I didn’t know.”

“So…”

“So,” she huffs. “I’m trying to say that when I met Seokjin, I didn’t know he was related to Jaesuk. The last name Kim is pretty common.”

“Mm.” Another person pays, and the line moves again. “And then, once you realized who Jaesuk was…?”

Emilia is silent. Eventually, she exhales. “The first time I met Jaesuk was the night of Seokjin’s birthday party. Do you remember that?”

It feels like a trick question, so you simply nod.

“Yeah,” Emilia murmurs, also lost in thought. “Seokjin had mentioned him before, but Jaesuk was always working or too busy to meet. When he walked through the door, I was stunned. And then… well, I decided to put him from my mind.”

“Mhm.”

Her lips flatten. “It’s true.”

The final person orders and leaves, leaving the two of you. Stepping up to the register, you order your usual iced latte and move to the end. Emilia follows, hitching her Birkin bag up her arm.

“All I’m saying,” she continues, determined, and you fight back an eye roll. “Is that I can understand how it happened. Thinking you felt one way for someone, only to realize you felt another.”

Sharply, you look at her.

Emilia stares back at you, unflinching, and you have to hand it to her, she doesn’t back down. Again, you consider Seokjin’s confession. This is about more than just Emilia dating Jaesuk. Human beings are complicated, and feelings are never clean-cut. Just because Emilia is with Jaesuk and seems happy doesn’t mean she’s enjoying the idea of you dating Seokjin.

Still, any way you respond would be tinged with bitterness, so you merely shrug. “I guess.”

The barista finishes your coffee and places it on the counter. Accepting this, you turn, intending to leave but Emilia stops you again.

“You know,” she says lowly. “I always suspected Seokjin had feelings for you.”

Her words are like being doused in cold water. Protestations rise to your lips like no, he doesn’t and sounds like projection, but you say nothing. Because based on what Emilia knows, she’s correct.

“Even before his birthday,” she says, her grip tight on her coffee. “I knew it was more than just friendship.”

“If you say so.”

“People talk about their friends. But Seokjin never talked about you. Ever. He was so, so careful to keep you separate.”

This does surprise you, but you can’t afford to react.

“I’m not bitter,” she adds, and you know she thinks that's true. “If anything, I think this might be fate. Right?” To her credit, her voice softens. “Jaesuk and I met so long ago, and now we’ve reconnected. Meanwhile, Seokjin has wanted you for so long, and now he finally has you. Maybe… oh, I don’t know. Maybe things had to happen this way for us to be happy.”

By now, you’re practically vibrating with suppressed anger. You hate when people imply that bad things happen for a reason. Sometimes that’s true but oftentimes, it’s an excuse for the speaker to pass on accountability. Whirling around, you step closer and feel a perverse sense of satisfaction when Emilia’s eyes widen.

“No,” you spit out. “I don’t think things had to be this way. I don’t think the fact that Seokjin and I are dating cancels out the fact that you’re now dating his brother. I don’t think any of this absolves you of what – of guilt? Is that what you want?”

Emilia’s face flushes. “No!”

“It doesn’t matter if Seokjin felt something for me. He chose you. He wanted you. Everything you just said is pointless because Seokjin wanted you to be his girlfriend. And you left him for Jaesuk. It’s crappy that you’re blaming the breakup on something he never even said that he wanted!”

Her mouth opens, intending to respond, but you decide you don’t care. Everything you’ve repressed bubbles upward, and you no longer trust yourself to have this conversation without saying something hurtful. Taking a page out of Seohyun’s book, you turn on your heel and push into the crowd.

Either you walk fast enough to lose her, or Emilia doesn’t follow. The crowd breaks after a while and you stop at the last stall, sagging against the counter. It takes several moments for your pulse to steady.

Although you meant what you said, it probably wasn’t the best way to deal with Emilia. A sigh leaves you. While you understand where she’s coming from, her pretending everything is fine isn’t helpful. The events of the past year caused a lot of hurt – you witnessed this firsthand.

Oddly enough though, you feel lighter. Devastating, to realize your therapist is right, and ignoring your emotions doesn’t make them go away. Granted, you didn’t need to explode on Emilia the way that you did. You’ll have to apologize at some point. It was infuriating, though, listening to her go on about how great things are, when you know she’s the reason Seokjin is on edge.

Footsteps sound behind you.

Glancing over your shoulder, you see Seohyun approaching. “Happy my parents’ anniversary,” she sings, shoving a plastic bag into your arms. A colorful, crocheted hat spills out. “I saw this and thought of you. You and your beautiful soul.”

“Don’t you Jesse McCartney me before lunch,” you manage to laugh. Removing the hat, you shove it over your hair. “How does it look? Mesmerizing?”

Seohyun makes a face. “Only a man truly in love would find that appealing.”

As though on cue, Seokjin rounds the corner. The moment he spots you, he does a double take. Walking forward, his grin widens.

“What monstrosity is this?” Seokjin teases. Slipping a hand to either side of your face, he tips your face up to press a kiss to your forehead. “Only you would find something that clashes with literally everything.”

Somewhat stunned, you stare up at him. “I, uh…”

“I bought it for her, asshole,” sighs Seohyun. Watching the two of you, she grins and shakes her head. “What did I say, Y/N?”

Seokjin looks at her, puzzled but – thankfully – before Seohyun can explain, Mrs. Kim appears. “There’s a whole stand of oven mitts,” she says to Seohyun. “We should get a few pairs or–”

Seokjin tugs on your hand. “Come on,” he murmurs. “I want to show you something.”

Wordless, you follow him around the next corner. It hasn’t escaped your notice that his family is no longer around and yet, he still holds your hand. In fact, you’re so busy watching him, you don’t realize where you’re going until Seokjin stops.

“Ta-da!” He gestures at a wooden stall. “What do you think?”

Tearing your gaze away from him, you look at the scene.

“Oh. My. God.”

Seokjin cracks up, watching you take in the garish array of nationalism. Paintings of flags, national monuments, symbolic animals – the stand has it all, entombed in bold colors and patterns. The sight is absolutely horrific, and you’re about to say as much, when a man pops out from behind an easel.

“Are you enjoying that one?” he asks, seeing where you look. “A beauty, right? I tried to encapsulate what I felt while listening to the national anthem.”

“Right,” you croak. Seokjin seems to be holding back tears of laughter. “That’s… that’s what I thought when I saw it. The national anthem, absolutely.”

“I took inspiration from our forefathers.”

“Ah. Well… here’s hoping they don’t ask for it back.”

The artist pauses, then barks out a laugh. “Good one! I’ll have to remember that. Now, all the small paintings are three hundred, the medium ones are a thousand, and this piece” – he directs your attention to a tapestry-sized canvas – “is three thousand. My pride and joy.”

Realizing your mouth has fallen open, you shut it.

By this point, Seokjin has composed himself enough to speak. “I’ve been looking for a piece for my entryway for years,” he muses. “This speaks to me.”

You elbow him – hard – in the ribs, and Seokjin wheezes, but the man doesn’t notice.

“Good eye, sir,” he says eagerly.

When he turns around, you lean sideways. “What are you doing?” you hiss.

“Browsing,” Seokjin whispers back, his eyes alight.

“Are you really going to buy that?”

“Honestly? I’m considering it, just so it doesn’t hang in someone else’s home.”

“Stop,” you whisper-laugh, trying to school your expression. “I feel bad! This man clearly has passion for the arts –”

“And likely, the conservative party.”

“–and he put a lot of time into this!”

Seokjin shrugs. “Define a lot.”

Before you can protest further, the artist returns. Seokjin hems and haws a bit before vowing to come back tomorrow with more money.

“You’re ridiculous,” you groan when he leads you away.

Seokjin wiggles both eyebrows. “Who’s the one dating me?”

You almost correct him but look away at the last moment. “About that,” you say slowly. “Emilia… kind of cornered me earlier. She wanted to talk about us.”

Seokjin stops so abruptly you nearly walk past him. When you realize this and turn, he seems slightly nauseous.

“Did she…” He swallows. “What did she say?”

“She didn’t suspect this was… fake,” you whisper, glancing around – oh god, now you’re doing it. “If that’s what you’re thinking.”

Seokjin blinks, his expression inscrutable. “Oh – okay. Right. What did she want to talk about, then?”

The two of you begin walking through the stalls. Sipping your coffee, you take comfort in the familiar rush that it brings.

“She wanted to talk about how… she always thought you had feelings for me.”

“Ah.”

“I kind of went off on her.”

Seokjin looks at you, startled. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” You frown. “She was pissing me off. Going on and on about how it was all ‘meant to be.’ She said that you always liked me, and maybe that’s why things didn’t work out with you two. As though nothing was her fault. I mean, is it so hard to take some accountability? To admit that your actions have hurt people?”

Seokjin says nothing, continuing to walk alongside you. His brow is furrowed though, clearly deep in thought. You turn down an empty row of stalls – the farmer’s market is only half-full, given the season. It grants a semblance of privacy when he clears his throat.

“Y/N…” Seokjin hesitates and then stops. “What if… Emilia wasn’t wrong?”

“About what?”

“About… I don’t know. Did I ever tell you how we broke up?”

“Well, no. You just said that you did.”

Seokjin firmly meets your gaze. “I was the one who ended things.”

Time seems to slow again.

Slowly, the puzzle pieces slot themselves into place. Honestly, you aren’t sure why you didn’t realize sooner. Well, you know why.  When Seokjin called you last week, he sounded upset. He sounded like he was in love with someone. You agreed to this mostly out of pity, assuming she had broken his heart. But if that’s not the case…

“Why?” you blurt.

Seokjin blinks. “Why, what?”

“Why did you break up with her?”

His gaze narrows. “Come on, Y/N,” he says, voice dropping when he takes a step closer. “Don’t you remember December?”

Your body goes still. Of course, you remember. You didn’t think that he did. Or if he did, you assumed it was something Seokjin wanted to ignore. The same way you haven’t talked about any other time you grew close.

Seeing your expression, his lips twist. “I almost kissed you that night in the bar. On my birthday.”

“I… know.”

“And you don’t think that was a red flag for my relationship?”

“We’d both been drinking,” you say, unconvinced. “It was a weird time for me. You were upset, and…”

His laugh is hollow. “That’s what I told myself at first, too. But then… I realized that even if all that was true, it wouldn’t have mattered if I loved her. So, I broke up with Emilia.”

You stare up at him, the events of the night rearranging themselves. You realize you’ve been thinking about that night all wrong. It wasn’t the night Seokjin almost kissed you, but the night he realized he didn’t love Emilia.

Before you can respond, Mr. Kim and Jaesuk walk around the corner. Emilia is right behind them, still sipping her coffee. She doesn’t meet your gaze, browsing the empty stalls instead.

“There you are,” says Jaesuk. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere. Mom wants to head to lunch. Are you ready to go?”

Seokjin watches you for another moment, then nods. Mrs. Kim and Seohyun meet you at the front doors, and Emilia joins them to show Mrs. Kim something. As soon as she does, Seohyun slows her pace to walk alongside you.

Noticing this, your stomach sours. Knowing what you know now, you can’t help but wonder if you’ve been unfair. From Emilia’s perspective, Seokjin broke up with her and immediately asked you out. Sure, the whole Jaesuk thing is still weird, but… possibly things are more complicated than you realized.

Glancing at Seohyun, you poke her in the arm. “Hey.”

She shoves the rest of a donut into her mouth. “If you’re hoping to trade the hat, I’m sorry. No takebacks.”

“No, it’s not that. Listen, you… should ease up on Emilia.”

Seohyun shoots you a look of betrayal. “Not you and Seokjin on my case!”

“This is just from me,” you sigh. “Nothing to do with Seokjin. I just… think this whole situation is awkward and multiple people are at fault. Not just her.”

Seohyun considers. Her gaze flicks to Emilia walking with Jaesuk.

“Well,” she grumbles. “It’s hard not to be mad. She hurt Seokjin. I’m mad at Jaesuk, too,” she adds with a scowl. “He should never have even considered asking her out.”

“Maybe. But then, you should probably also be mad at Seokjin. He’s the one who broke up with Emilia.”

She pauses. “Seokjin broke up with her?”

You nod, your suspicions confirmed. As much as it pains you to admit, Emilia has been classy in this regard. She could have aired Seokjin’s business to gain sympathy but chose to stay silent.

Seohyun thinks for a moment, her face shifting. “To tell you the truth, I never liked Emilia with Seokjin,” she admits.

“Why not?”

“They just didn’t… fit. Too similar, I think. What’s weird though, is that she totally fits with Jaesuk.”

“You should ease up on her,” you repeat.

She rolls her eyes. “Alright, fine, Miss Morality.”

“That’s a terrible superhero name.”

“Oh, yeah? What would you be, then?”

“I know what I’d be,” Seokjin announces while joining your duo. You start, wondering how much he overheard. “Probably something like World Wide Handsome. WWH. Swooping down to save the world with –”

“Hair gel and a mirror?” Seohyun cuts in. “Because that’s what that sounds like.”

The sound of their bickering follows you into the restaurant. Every time you visit Bear’s Nook you eat at the same, cozy restaurant in the middle of downtown. Seohyun chooses the seat beside Emilia to sit in, and you note Emilia’s look of surprise when Seohyun asks her a question.

It’s easy to forget how wealthy Seokjin’s family is. If it weren’t for the lavish lake house and personal driver, today is the type of day you’d have on your own. Today marks the last time you’ll be alone, though. Small dinner parties are planned for tomorrow and Wednesday, followed by the larger cocktail party on Thursday.

Everything has moved so fast, you haven’t even considered what the rest of this week will look like. For all Seokjin’s city life revolves around academia, he’s still a part of his family’s legacy here. Emilia fit into all that – she’s an Astor, after all. You’re a no one, especially without your fancy consulting job.

Before you can spiral any further, Seokjin places a menu before you. “I asked at the front, and they said they’ll still do the pecan pancakes if you want them.”

Your stomach flips. “You… asked about my order?”

“Of course,” Seokjin says, as if it’s the only answer. “I didn’t forget.”

Something about his tone makes you think he means more than your brunch order. You try to refocus on his family but again, a single thought rises to the surface.

Seokjin broke up with Emilia. He broke up with her after he almost kissed you. And now… well now, you wonder if your main rule has been broken. Maybe not everything Seokjin says should be taken at face value.

Maybe there are things you still don’t know about him, after all.

© kpopfanfictrash, 2025. Do not copy or repost without permission.

Author’s Note: thank you for reading so far! Continued in Part 2, here.

[7-deadly-cats]

killing me softly | 21

K M S M A S T E R L I S T | <- P R E V I O U S | N E X T ->

✿ G E N R E ✿ she fell first, he fell harder | slice of life | drama

✿ P A I R I N G ✿ s1!rafe cameron x overthinking!reader (f)

✿ C O N T E N T W A R N I N G ✿ swearing, suggestive language & themes, mildly jealous!reader, possessive!rafe, silly!rafe, reader having a heart attack at the end (not literal, tho... maybe), cliffhanger bc i wanna keep things open for how i'm gonna handle the situation

✿ S U M M A R Y O F L A S T P A R T ✿ molly got added to the girls' group chat, and while you and rafe stayed curled up watching transformers, she kept the others updated about the two of you. the girls also ended up talking about rafe leaving earlier, and pretty quickly decided it probably had something to do with ruthie. you and rafe stayed cuddled the whole movie. you suggested filling topper and kelce in on everything but you weren’t gonna tell anyone anything he didn’t want shared. he also apologized for grabbing your wrist earlier, clearly feeling bad about how he handled it. you both added each other on TrackerBuddies, the little friendship tracker app. after the movie, you rejoined the others (minus the pogues). rafe openly admitted he regretted punching topper. when cara brought up ruthie, rafe shut her down fast. not long after, sarah called cara, asking to come join you guys. you asked rafe to dip with you. as you took an uber to your place, he grabbed your dad’s corvette, and the two of you headed out for another one of those sweet late-night drives. (18+ extra summarized) rafe missed you a lot back at home and tried feeling close to you by having a little solo session. afterward, he regretted it and also came to the realization this pull toward you was more than just a sexual need.

✿ W O R D C O U N T ✿ 10k+

✿ A / N ✿ probably one of my weakest chapters yet in comparison to the previous bangers. i also feel like it's 80% dialogue but i just have way too much fun w it and yeah. PLUS not sure if i’m jumping around too much but i really wanted to squeeze all the important scenes in. hope you guys enjoy anyway and pls lmk your thoughts <3 xx ᓚᘏᗢ

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for those who skipped the extra including the aftermath of the open-air event, please go back and read it as i've decided to promote it to a main chapter as it contains way too essential info and changes in dynamics. -> Chapter 20 (former extra)

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also just to be safe: avoid the comment section until you’re finished

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W E E K T W O // M O N D A Y 6 : 4 2 A M

One week ago, your whole life had been turned upside down.

Because exactly one week ago, on a seemingly uneventful Monday, your art teacher had decided to put you and Rafe Cameron together into a group for a two-week-long project.

And exactly one week ago, you'd thought this would be the end of you.

You remembered how he’d approached you after class, that unbothered expression on his face, not even properly looking at you, as he asked you to "just get this project over with" during lunch.

God, you remembered how you'd panicked afterward, how clammy your hands had gotten at the mere thought of working—no, TALKING—to Rafe. How Molly had found you pale as hell in the girls' restroom, how you'd freaked out while waiting for him in front of the gym.

You two had been classmates, project partners, no, actually, total strangers thrown together by some twisted coincidence named Arthur Smith, who wore washed-out art smocks and hair like a bomb had exploded in his face.

And now, exactly one week later, on yet another seemingly uneventful Monday, you could call yourself Rafe’s friend.

You couldn't even begin to describe how crazy, insane, downright batshit surreal that felt. Especially considering he’d been your crush for the past few years and now, within just one week, you’d gotten so close that you EVEN FUCKING CUDDLED LAST NIGHT LIKE WHAT.

HOW.

WHAT. HOW WAS THAT EVEN—like, you didn’t know what parallel universe you’d entered last Monday but LET’S FUCKING GOOOOO.

GOOOOSH, JUST THINKING ABOUT LAST NIGHT MADE YOUR HEART THUNDER LIKE CRAZY IN YOUR CHEST.

Starting from him being such a sweet gentleman, paying for your stuff, to you first sitting on the lounge bed and then scooting closer to warm each other up (after he’d had a boner but let’s never think about that again), and how sweet and relaxed he’d seemed, just for Ruthie to ruin your little cozy bonding moment with her fucked up bullshit game.

Oh, how badly you’d wanted to find that bitch after your argument with Rafe in the parking lot and slap that stupid grin right off her face. Sure, violence was never the answer, but this bitch? She could catch hands for playing him like that.

Really quite a weird coincidence though, that she’d been nowhere to be found at the event site after she’d talked to Rafe.

You’d found out through the girlies' group chat that she’d left in the middle of Barbie and had never come back. Gracie and Samantha had followed her shortly after.

As soon as Rafe had dropped you off at home, you’d gone straight to bed and scrolled through the dozens of messages in the girlies' group chat, aka them commenting on you and Rafe while trying to solve the mystery of why he’d left you behind.

And funny enough, they’d actually kinda solved it. But you hadn’t commented on anything because Rafe had made it very clear he didn’t want anyone getting involved.

Also, not them playing fucking Sherlock Holmes and talking about you and Rafe as if you weren’t in the group chat. Like, girls, come on, at least make a secret chat for that, geez.

You’d giggled nonetheless. Happy that Molly was now in the group too and also touched by how much they were cheering you and Rafe on.

Anyway, Ruthie being the reason two poor souls had to spend half the night alone? Fucking bitch.

And that just made you feel even worse about being annoyed with Topper last night. He’d probably felt just as awful as you had ughhhh.

Though, you had absolutely zero energy to spiral over how he might’ve felt because—BECAUSE—

Because Rafe.

YEAH RAFE.

Rafe who’d placed his fucking hand just inches away from your butt when he'd nudged you forward, both when leading you back inside the venue AND when you'd left. Like, okay, it was still just your lower back but from a different angle, that was just inches from your butt.

HAHAHAHAH the butterflies in your stomach had been already screaming like crazy and ripping each other’s wings off from panic and excitement, but no, this guy had taken it one step further.

Him. Always by your side. Like. The whole night.

Always close to you in some kind of way.

Not pushy, not clingy, or in any way uncomfortable. No, it felt more like he wanted to be near you, to feel the comfort of your presence, to reassure himself that you really weren’t leaving. Maybe grounding himself after being so shaken earlier.

So, when you two had settled back in on the lounge bed (ignoring Kelce’s and Molly’s surprised, smiley glances), he’d pulled you right back under the blanket. Held it open for you to scoot closer, and when you’d hesitated to cozy back up to him, he gave you this look with his big blue eyes—equal parts amusement and confusion—and said, “Don’t you dare be shy with me now.”

Yeah.

You kinda died in that moment. He'd looked genuinely afraid you might be scared of cuddling with him again, when in reality you just didn’t want to overstimulate him or crowd him after his crashout, especially considering he’d still been a bit jittery from the coke in his system.

Somehow, that restlessness faded fast once you cozied back up to him, his arm instantly wrapping around your waist as you settled back on his chest, your hand resting on his stomach. He even picked up where he’d left off, playing with the charms dangling from your bracelet—a gesture that somehow grounded both of you.

And in that very moment, you let yourself accept the fact that Rafe liked you.

He liked being around you, liked hanging out with you, and he also seemed to like the way you handled him and his little crashout moments. Because if he didn’t, he would’ve dipped after your argument. He wouldn’t have begged you to stay and apologized. And he definitely wouldn’t have spent the rest of the night by your side AND LEFT TOGETHER WITH YOU.

Of course, deep down, in some very dark and twisted corner of your brain, there was still that fear that he only liked the feeling you gave him. That he just liked that you stuck around. That he enjoyed the idea of having some girl around. Or worse—that he was doing all this for the project. That he was only keeping you around so you’d carry him through it, boost his GPA, and then drop you the second he got what he wanted.

But those thoughts felt so absurd, so ridiculous, you were ashamed to even think them, ashamed they even surfaced for a second. Especially after Rafe had opened up to you like that, gotten emotional and vulnerable, showing a side of himself you didn’t even think Topper or Kelce had ever seen.

Nah, fuck those thoughts.

Fuck that little asshole minion in your head that even dared to speak them out loud. Yeah, mentally, you kicked that little guy’s ass.

Better.

AHDHEKJEKW you couldn’t stop grinning to yourself as you packed your bag for school, thinking about how sweet he’d been after the movie.

Sliding right next to you on the bench at the bar, KNEES TOUCHING AND HIM FUCKING PLAYING WITH THE FABRIC OF YOUR DRESS AT YOUR SHOULDER LIKE JESUS YOU HAD LITERAL GOOSEBUMPS FROM THAT.

And oh my god—him helping you into your jacket in the parking lot after you'd left the venue, complimenting your dress again followed by a dumbass comment (“You sure you not into hookups? Shit, aight, sorry, don’t look at me like that”), which you THANKFULLY hadn’t spiraled over because somehow you’d accepted that flirty, suggestive comments were just part of the Rafe Cameron starter pack.

And also, YOU KINDA LIKED HEARING HIM SAY STUFF LIKE THAT HIHIHIHHI.

Because the fact that he found you attractive, even being down to sleep with you, and showered you with comments like that... yeah, that DID something to you. Huge ego and confidence boost and let’s just say it stirred another part of you as well.

While lying on Rafe, you felt that tingling sensation surging through your whole body, a buzzing warmth low in your stomach. That desire for his hand on your waist to slide a little further down to your butt, or maybe even higher… to rest on your boobs. Or how you wondered what his abs felt like under that stupidly well-fitting polo, or what his lips might feel like on yours. How those same lips would taste, how they’d feel on your neck, shoulders, stomach, thighs, and—

HE HAD!!! HE’D LET HIS HAND WANDER FOR JUST A TINY SECOND, JUST A TINY INCH TOWARD YOUR HIP AND… then he’d pulled back.

Had you been absolutely overwhelmed in that moment? Yes. Were you still disappointed he hadn’t left his hand there? YES. But did the fact that he did pull back—because he cared about not making you uncomfortable—make you want him to touch you even more BECAUSE HIM CARING ABOUT YOUR COMFORT WAS SO FUCKING HOT?

ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY.

You’d always found Rafe attractive (I mean, duh, even fifth-grade you had good taste), but now? This didn’t feel like just a crush anymore, like some cute guy you liked looking at. No, this was… different. Like there was this magnetic pull toward him and— okay, let’s be real, it felt like you wanted him to rip your clothes off and rock your world.

And the wildest part? Rafe apparently wanted to do exactly that, as he’d stated two days ago, and WHAT'S STOPPING YOU THEN HHAHAHAHHAHAHA.

Oh right.

Probably the crippling fear of rejection, the fact that you're a virgin with zero real-life experience outside of chaotic fanfiction, and also the sheer vulnerability of baring your entire soul and body in front of a guy while handing him the key to the most fragile little drawer of your being.

Hah. Yeah. Nope. Sex definitely wasn’t happening anytime soon.

Besides… didn’t you technically just become friends two days ago? And that only because you basically forced him into it during that horrible spiral over his intentions. And if you suddenly told him (not that you even had the balls to do that) that you’d maybe potentially be down for… something, he’d probably smash your head against the wall for being so damn indecisive and for driving him to the brink of insanity during that conversation.

HAHAHAHAHA. Yeah not happening.

Anyway.

School.

You slung your bag over your shoulder and were just about to text Rafe when your phone buzzed at that exact moment, nearly giving you a heart attack.

Seriously, this freaking guy.

How was he one of the “cool” guys at school when he didn’t even know how to use the basic features on his phone? Like, excuse me? -100 aura.

Also, him saying he hated cats for being moody when HE acted like a moody stray cat himself? The irony was almost poetic.

AND NOT HIM CALLING YOU ‘BABY’. WHAT.

Okay, yeah, he very professionally crossed the word out, but like, he could have drawn over it completely.

But he hadn’t.

WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN OMFG.

Not a single day went by without him completely messing with your head with those weird, mixed (but also not mixed at all) signals. I meaaaan, he’d made it pretty clear that he wanted to bend you over, but was also totally fine being friends who flirted for fun???

Okay, the more you thought about that, the more ridiculous it sounded soooo, let’s push that thought away before you spiraled again and Rafe ended up actually smashing your head into a wall hahaha.

So you just—

Bzzrt.

You grabbed your phone again and chuckled.

You never would’ve guessed Rafe was such a drama queen and kind of needy. Not sexually (okay, maybe a little), but more like emotionally needy?

Like, the way he'd called you out for needing reassurance during your argument, and, look at him, the very same night clinging to you like a second shadow, blowing up your phone at every opportunity like you were the only friend he had.

And honestly? It kind of made you feel… wanted. Because he did it in this passive-aggressive, caring kind of way that made your chest warm up in all the right ways.

Shit, Rafe = Doberman confirmed (again).

Also, it was really sweet how comfortable he seemed with you. The way he let his guard down, showed vulnerability and affection, let himself be attached like that. He definitely didn’t act like that with Topper and Kelce.

Well, to be fair, they also hadn’t been cuddled up to him with their boobs pressed against his chest last night sooo… yeah.

Okay, you really needed to head downstairs now before Rafe showed up and gave you some kind of speech about making him wait 0.3 seconds.

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"Your mom loves me," he said as he pulled his Benz out of your driveway, grinning so wide he looked like the Cheshire Cat.

And, well, yeah, your mom had stood at the front door waving at him with a smile when she said goodbye. Actually, she was still standing there, her grin mirroring Rafe’s.

Ughhh, why was this so embarrassing.

"I think she’s just relieved I’m not taking her car again," you said with a small laugh. You’d kinda scratched the side mirror that one time trying to park in some hellishly narrow underground lot, oops.

Rafe shook his head, still grinning, and waved back to her before driving off. "Nah. Looks more like she just found the perfect son-in-law."

A baffled laugh escaped your lips at the absurdity. "Don’t know about that."

"Yeah? And why’s that?" He raised a brow, smirking at you as he glanced over. "Seemed like your mom and your dad pretty much threw themselves at me on Saturday."

You exhaled through your nose, amused. "Well, yeah. You looked wrecked with that bruise. Still do," you said, eyeing the purple blotch on his cheek. "Plus, my dad’s a doctor. It’s literally his job to care about people."

If only he knew how deeply your parents actually cared about him. How concerned they were after speaking to him once.

Rafe scoffed. "Yeah, sure. Next time I see them, they’ll probably start planning a wedding."

"And I’m pretty sure they’d ask for my consent first," you chuckled, though your heart did a little jump at him even mentioning marriage.

And your pulse spiked even more when Rafe gave you this weirdly serious look, almost more confused than amused. "What? Am I not living up to the princess’ standards?"

OH. WHAT.

Boy, if you only knew. You were the standard.

ALSO WHY WAS THIS THROWING YOU OFF SO BADLY, WHAT THE HELL.

Oh god, how were you supposed to respond without offending him but still giving an answer that satisfied him enough to let it go, without completely exposing your feelings but maybe still dropping some kind of hint AHHHHH???

Cheeks heating up, you let out an awkward laugh, fiddling with your bracelet. "Well, I mean… you don’t exactly strike me as the relationship type."

OH GIRL.

Rafe scoffed, amused. "Shit, what? So you’re saying I’m never settling down or what?"

UMMMMM.

Heart racing like crazy in your chest, you let out a strained chuckle, shaking your head. "No! No, of course not. I didn’t mean it like that, I just… I meant right now, you know?" You fidgeted with the little key charm on your bracelet. "I’m just not sure how to say it without you taking it the wrong way."

"It's that hookup topic again, huh?" Rafe asked, not entirely clear whether he was annoyed or entertained.

You shook your head. "Yes—I mean, no! Not that exactly. I just…" You sighed, feeling your neck heat up as well. "I only meant to say it doesn’t seem like you’re interested in anything serious right now. You brought up marriage and all, but that kinda needs a relationship as a foundation, right? Not that anyone our age is actually thinking about marriage." You grimaced, cringing at yourself. "Okay, please ignore everything I've said. I'm talking nonsense."

Rafe let out a chuckle and glanced sideways at you. "You know, I can have fun now and still settle down later."

UGHHHH PLEASE DROP IT.

"Yes, of course," you said, nodding like a lunatic. "I’m not judging. I was just objectively describing how you come across to me. That’s all."

He gave a tight-lipped smile, scratching his jaw, like he was letting your words settle. "I guess."

Oh no. Oh god. You’d offended him.

SHIT.

QUICK, FIX IT.

"I didn’t mean anything bad by it," you said quietly, watching his jaw clench.

The car stopped at a red light.

Rafe nodded, lips pressed together, and squinted out the windshield as he let out a strained laugh. "I dunno. You kinda made it sound like I’m incapable of committing."

WHY WAS HE TWISTING YOUR WORDS.

You shook your head, eyes wide. "Rafe, no, that’s absolutely not—"

"I mean, family’s important, right?" he cut in, his tone softer now, meeting your gaze for a split second. You nodded and opened your mouth but he kept going: "It’s about blood, loyalty, and all that shit. That’s what you build your life around." His brows twitched. "Just actually finding someone worth sharing this shit with, that’s the part that sucks."

He scoffed, raising his shoulders. "I mean, shit, there’s not a single girl at school I could tolerate for longer than a class period. Either they’re the most exhausting person alive or the most basic, boring chick ever."

Alriiiiiight.

Okay, first of all: him having this view on family and commitment? Wow. Unexpected. But then again, okay, not that surprising considering Ward Cameron was known to value family above everything else and Rafe practically worshipped his dad. So, okay, yeah, it made sense he shared that belief.

And second: wow… what were those last words supposed to mean? Did that mean he couldn’t actually tolerate you either? Which made no sense because he clearly—

“Don’t,” he scoffed, amused.

You blinked. “What?”

“Can hear your fuckass brain minion preaching some bullshit again.”

Uh…

“Obviously I wasn’t talking about you,” he said and pulled the car back into motion as the light turned green.

OH. WHAT.

WHAT WAS THAT SUPPOSED TO— WHAT. OKAY NO, THIS JUST SENT YOUR SPIRAL INTO OVERDRIVE BECAUSE WHAT DID HE MEAN BY THAT.

A baffled little laugh left your lips. “Not sure how I’m supposed to take that.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, brows furrowed as he stared straight ahead, fingers drumming against the steering wheel. Then he shrugged. “You’re fucking weird, so you’re not basic shit. And yeah, you are fucking exhausting, but not in a ‘buy me this, why didn’t you call me’ kinda way, blah blah,” a crooked smile tugged at his lips, “more like ‘I make easy things complicated’ exhausting.”

Uh-huh. Should’ve never asked.

You nodded slowly, raising your eyebrows. “Right.”

“Right,” Rafe mocked you with a scoff. “Just told you for like the hundredth time I fuck with you. Dunno what’s so hard to understand about that.”

Man, this guy and his attempts at expressing himself. You two really needed to work on that.

You raised a brow at him, lips tugging into a small grin. “Did you just mock me?”

“Did you just mock me,” he mimicked again, only to get smacked (more or less gently) on the arm for it.

A boyish laugh escaped him as he raised his brows at you. “Shit, nearly dislocated my shoulder.”

Idiot.

“Keep it up and Cacty’s gonna be raised by a single parent,” you said flatly, your expression amused.

Yes, during your Uber ride yesterday you’d both heavily debated what kind of plant to choose for your TrackerBuddies plant and, even more importantly, what to name it.

In the end, you’d compromised (okay, Rafe had given in because you threatened to kill the seed off). He got to pick the plant (“cactus are tough as fuck, aight”) and you picked the name (“fuckass name, plant’s gonna be a loser”).

Yeah, well, and now Cacty was already on level 3 because via notifications you’d seen how Rafe had been grinding that app since 5am this morning (not him paying for in-game coins and farming XP).

Rafe shot you the most dramatic scowl alive. “Shit, I already am a single parent. You only watered that fucker once since yesterday.”

“I didn’t have time this morning,” you replied with a chuckle.

“It’s literally one tap of a button.” Rafe raised a brow at you. “Fingers busy with something else or what?”

DUDE.

Immediate heat rushed to your face as you let out a very strained laugh. “You’re nasty.”

“Imma take that as a yes.”

HELP OH MY GOD. WHY WOULD HE SAY THAT.

Wait, no—fuck that. Last night you hadn’t been shy at all, why were you acting all flustered now? He’d literally had a boner lying next to you, like????? That hadn’t bothered you but this did?

Nah.

Time to throw that shit right back.

You gathered your courage and gave him a deadpan look. “Maybe you should use yours more often. Might help keep your libido in check.”

He only scoffed in amusement but ha! You caught that tiny furrow between his brows, the way his jaw tightened as he rubbed it.

Making Rafe uncomfortable? Shouldn’t feel as satisfying as it did.

He was just about to throw a smart-ass reply back when both your phones buzzed at the same time. His in the center console, yours in your bag.

Immediately your stomach tightened with unease. You couldn’t help but think of Ruthie. Was she trying to play real-life Gossip Girl now?

Before you could reach for your phone, Rafe grabbed his and tossed it into your lap. “0510. Who’s being annoying?”

ALRIGHT. TRUSTING YOU WITH HIS PHONE AGAIN AND EVEN GIVING YOU HIS PASSCODE. I MEAN. OKAY.

Heart beating a little faster, you unlocked it and tapped on the notification, leading you straight into his email app.

You blinked. “Mr. Smith.”

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“I think we should use the free period to work on the project,” Rafe said as he crossed his arms on the stone table, biceps flexing while he did.

Mr. Smith had very kindly announced ahead of time (10 min prior the lesson) that he wouldn’t be in today because he was going to an art exhibition out of town. But he’d left the art room unlocked for anyone who wanted to continue working on their project.

You pulled your iPad from your bag, eyes scanning the display as you skimmed through your school notes. Shit, maybe sitting in the courtyard hadn’t been the best idea. The screen was reflecting.

Ugh, whatever.

“Again, I’ve got a math test afterward and I really don’t wanna fail,” you said, glancing up for a second. “I mean, you could already head to the copy shop and we can do the rest after school.”

PROPS TO YOU FOR INDIRECTLY ASKING TO HANG OUT LATER HIHIHI.

Rafe grimaced and leaned back, scratching his jaw. “Nah, I’ve got no clue about that crap. Besides, I’ve got no time this afternoon. Need to talk to my dad.”

Your heart sank. You’d really hoped to see him again later and spend more time together, but he was right. The Ruthie situation took priority. He only had six more days till the Gloaming to convince his dad to accept the deal and get the video deleted from Ruthie’s stash.

So you just nodded, opening your math folder. “Do you already know what you wanna say to him?”

You’d offered to talk about it last night during your late-night drive around, but Rafe insisted on saving that for today.

Rafe furrowed his brows, rubbing at one. “Shit, I don’t know. I mean, I gotta make him reconsider the deal.” He exhaled and shrugged. “But it’s fucked. The terms are shit, and agreeing to it would be like submitting to a guy way below him. No way he’ll even listen to me.”

Yeah, the whole thing would’ve been way easier if Rafe had to propose a new deal. But trying to make his dad rethink one he’d already dismissed? Practically impossible.

You nodded. And good thing you’d given this some thought before falling asleep. “Okay, three options,” you said. “First, you present the deal in such a way that he has to reconsider and say yes but even I think that’s the hardest route.” You pointed your Apple Pencil at him. “Second, we get Ruthie’s dad to rethink his terms. Maybe he’s open to talk. Or, I dunno, if we’re lucky maybe Ruthie is.”

Even as the words left your mouth you knew it was stupid. Ruthie never gave in. That’d just drag Rafe deeper into the shit.

“Fuck that,” Rafe said, crossing his arms on the table again AND GOD THEY LOOKED DELICIOUS DMKNCJKNCJKDS. “This bitch can’t be trusted and I sure as hell won't give her the satisfaction of handing her even more control over the situation.”

You chuckled. “I’m just laying out all the options, okay.”

Rafe exhaled and nodded, flicking his hand. “Aight. Option three?”

The juicy one.

“We play Ruthie’s own game,” you said, snapping your Apple Pencil back into its case with a soft click. “Either we hit her with an uno reverse and blackmail her so she has to delete the video.” You tilted your head. “Or we take care of it ourselves.”

An amused scoff escaped Rafe. “Yeah sure, let’s just ask her for her phone. I’m sure she’ll gladly hand it over.”

You frowned. “Rafe, I’m just trying to help you.”

He nodded, brows furrowed, running a hand through his hair. “I know, I know, I just…” He exhaled hard and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, eyes closed. “Shit’s pissing me off so bad, I can’t even put it into words.”

It's not like you’re capable of putting anything into words but yeah.

Still, how badly you wanted to see Ruthie burn for distressing this already distressed boy so badly. At least—and that was the only comforting thought at the moment—he didn’t seem to be falling deeper into his addiction (at least for now). His pupils looked normal, and by Rafe’s standards, he was acting pretty normal too.

“I know,” you said softly, giving him a small smile. “But again, you’re not alone in this shit, okay? And I still think it’s a good idea to let Topper and Kelce in on it. I mean, they’ve pieced most of it together by now anyway, might as well tell them the whole truth.”

Rafe grimaced, eyes fixed on the golden ring he kept fidgeting with.

“I know you’re kinda suspicious of Topper,” you went on, “but maybe we could use his closeness to Ruthie to our advantage. You know, get him to somehow delete the video or something, I don’t know.”

Then he looked up at you, eyes holding a weird glimmer, and said the last thing you expected to hear: “Or Gracie could.”

Your smile faded instantly.

Somehow that made your heart sink right away, a sick and ugly feeling twisting in your gut, and you could physically feel some butterflies die in your stomach.

“I mean that bitch follows her around everywhere,” Rafe continued, brows furrowed. “She’s basically glued to Ruthie. If anyone could actually get to her phone, it’s her.”

Sure, he always talked shit about Gracie whenever she was brought up, and yet… she was still some kind of ex-girlie of his and—UGH GIRL PLEASE.

"Yeah," you said, your voice a little too detached. "You said it yourself: she’s glued to Ruthie. And even if you somehow convinced her to betray her best friend, how are you even planning to talk to her without Ruthie getting suspicious?"

Rafe shrugged, leaning back again. “Getting her to talk isn’t the problem. I could just hit her up, say I wanna hook up again. Should be easy enough.”

...

A few more butterflies lost their wings in that moment and your stomach practically turned inside out.

You just stared at him, genuinely overwhelmed and not knowing what to even say to that.

Shit, on one hand, that wasn’t even a bad idea. Out of everyone, Gracie did have the best shot at getting Ruthie’s phone. And Ruthie being betrayed by her own best friend? That was poetic justice.

But on the other hand...

The idea of Rafe and Gracie working together when this was supposed to be you and him, and worse—what if they rediscovered their thing again and actually went through with it?! AHHHHHHH.

No. Just no. Please don’t.

“What?” Rafe asked, clearly confused, pulling you out of your downward spiral.

You shook your head, brows furrowed. “Nothing, I… I just don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Rafe raised his brows, waiting for more.

“Well, like I said, I don’t think Gracie is that easily convinced to betray her best friend,” you said, the distant edge creeping back into your voice. “And let’s say she does agree to... talk. There's a high chance she runs straight to Ruthie the moment you even bring it up. You’d just be shooting yourself in the foot.”

That THANKFULLY made him pause.

Please say I'm right. PLEASE SAY I'M FUCKING RIGHT.

“Shit, what else am I supposed to do?” Rafe said, clearly frustrated. “It’s my only chance at getting rid of that fuckass video. Like, how the fuck am I supposed to blackmail Ruthie, huh?” He gestured to himself, shoulders raised. “Her nudes already leaked and no one cared, her dad fucking their housekeeper—no one gave a shit for whatever reason, and I bet anything else we could dig up on her, she’d just talk her way out of. This is fucked.”

He rubbed his eye and motioned with his other hand. “Might as well just go ahead and show my dad the fucking video myself.”

NO!

Your expression softened. “There’s gotta be another option. But I really feel like using sex as a last-ditch effort to get what you want is—”

“Shit, no,” Rafe cut you off quickly, shaking his head, face twisted in disgust. “I wouldn’t actually hook up with her.” He tapped both sides of his temple, eyes intense. “Bitch is fucking crazy. And I’m not talking ‘got some dumbass minions in her head’ crazy, I mean like, ‘asks to roleplay as Ruthie during sex’ crazy.”

ALRIIIIGHT WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.

As much as this was the biggest relief ever, more than anything it absolutely horrified you. Then again… Gracie did seem to worship Ruthie a little too much, so this actually sounded kinda legit.

UGHHH. EW.

You let out a disbelieving laugh. “I really could’ve gone my whole life without knowing that.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Rafe scoffed. “What do you think it felt like for me? Right in the middle of bending her over, she turns around and—”

“OKAY! I believe you! No need for details,” you cut him off with a strained chuckle and—SHIT! Only twenty minutes left until math class. “So, how about we continue this after school? Or uh, after your convo with your dad?” You smiled sheepishly. “I really gotta study now.”

Rafe’s brows twitched, but he nodded. “4pm? I don’t think that talk’s gonna take long. If my dad’s even open to listening.”

Slowly, the butterflies in your stomach began to piece themselves back together. A warm smile tugged at your lips at the thought of hanging out with him again later. “Sounds good. Hoping things go well.”

And just like that, a smile appeared on Rafe’s face too.

“Aight,” he said, getting up and walking around the table to your side, practically bumping into your hip as he sat down next to you. “Now lemme see how we can save your math grade from sucking ass.”

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

"There you two cuties are," Cara said as you and Rafe arrived at the table, holding your lunch trays in hand.

Funny, haha. You both just happened to arrive at the dining hall at the same time and just happened to get your food together hihihi (they were serving wraps and you could choose your own fillings).

The other three (+ Cara, obviously) eyed you with the biggest grins ever. Molly was seated between Kelce (obviously again) and Topper, and Cara sat across from them (which, kind of weird they were seated 3 + 1 instead of 2 + 2 but um… yeahhh).

You slipped in next to Cara and Rafe moved in beside you, immediately manspreading so his knee touched yours again.

THIS JUST MADE YOUR NERVES BUZZ A TINY LITTLE BIT BUT YOU LEFT IT THERE (ANOTHER OBVIOUSLY HIHIHI).

"How was last night?" Molly was the second to speak, and you could feel how badly Rafe wanted to throw a scowl her way.

So you beat him to it with a sheepish smile: "It was nice."

"Yo, we want details," Kelce said, grinning like an idiot.

UGHHHHH THIS SOUNDED WAY TOO MUCH LIKE “DID YOU GUYS DO IT?”

"Took her dad’s Corvette and we drove around," Rafe answered, a cocky smile tugging at his lips (him not crashing out? a first).

Kelce’s eyes widened. "Shiiiii, for real? Bet it felt like sliding down clouds."

"Better," Rafe answered, still grinning, and Kelce squinted like he’d just tasted something absolutely delicious.

"Your dad allowed that?" Topper asked, directing the question to you, swallowing a bite of his wrap. His bruise somehow looked worse than Rafe’s after one day.

Cara rolled her eyes. "Duh. He’s not your mom."

The table chuckled. Only Topper frowned, but you quickly said, "Well, I figured he’d allow it if someone capable was driving."

And that actually drew a genuine smile from Rafe as he looked down at his wrap, kinda struggling to hold it together (good thing you hadn’t told him to ask for it wrapped in a paper bag, but sure, what did you know).

"So, what happened after?" Cara asked, her face way too smug.

GIRL PLEASE.

"You always this fucking nosy?" Rafe lifted his gaze from his tragic wrap to meet Cara’s eyes with an irritated smile.

EXCUSE ME SIR, that’s my bestie!

You kicked him under the table but that idiot kept holding Cara’s gaze with a straight-up challenge in his eyes.

Help. They were both stubborn as hell. This could go downhill fast.

"We got some food and that’s basically it," you said with a tense smile, hoping those idiots would get the cue. And to quickly change the topic you asked, "And what about you guys?"

WAIT NO. SARAH AND THE POGUES HAD COME OVER AFTER YOU AND RAFE HAD LEFT.

OH MY GOD. SOMEONE SHOOT ME.

"I asked out Molly for the Gloaming," Kelce said (OMG MASTER OF READING SOCIAL CUES, THANK YOU).

You smiled genuinely and turned to Molly. "I assume you said yes."

"He dragged me to the beach and gifted me a necklace," she said, giggling, cheeks pink. "So yes."

OMDNJKSCHNSDKHNCKVDSHCNKVSHVSDK.

CUTEST COUPLE IN THE UNIVERSE FR OMG (let’s ignore Rafe brooding next to you).

And now you spotted it. A silver sun-shaped necklace resting against her freckled collarbone.

I LITERALLY CANNOT.

Cara nodded. "I want at least that and a fancy dinner and the biggest bouquet of roses possible."

Lmfao, the way Topper immediately looked up from his food, probably taking mental notes. Also not Cara very obviously saying that out loud.

So she was done with JJ. After one day.

Wow. Got her cheeks clapped and dipped. Queen.

"And you?" Kelce asked, turning to you with that gleaming white grin.

You smiled sheepishly, feeling your cheeks flush. "What?"

"Well, what’s your dream ‘getting asked out’ scenario?"

OH HELL NO. YOU KNEW EXACTLY WHAT HE WAS DOING, SAYING THAT IN FRONT OF RAFE, AND THAT JUST MADE EVERYTHING. SO. FREAKING. AWKWARD. BYEEEEEE.

"Or someone already done that?" he added, eyes flicking over to Rafe for a second who was very focused on not letting his wrap fall apart (you were this close to snatching it and wrapping it properly for him).

Ummmmmmm. Literally though, if Rafe asked you out?

Dead. Instantly. Because holy shit, that? That’s what little you had always dreamed of, always hoping that the impossible would happen and Rafe freaking Cameron asking you out to Midsummers or the Gloaming.

You just let out a nervous chuckle and shrugged. "Um… no."

AND THEN THE WORST THING HAPPENED.

Kelce’s gaze shifted to Rafe again. AND YOU COULD ALREADY HEAR HIM GEARING UP TO ASK RAFE IF HE’D BE THE ONE TO ASK YOU OUT OR SOME SHIT BUT—

"Rob’s still in town until Sunday," Topper stated, and you could feel the gust of wind from how fast Rafe’s head snapped up beside you. "He’s been asking about you."

Oh… um.

A baffled smile tugged at your lips because you honestly didn’t know how to feel about this fact.

Flattered? Uncomfortable? Annoyed that Rafe hadn't asked you out for the Gloaming just after two days of befriending each other hahahahha ???

"Why the fuck is that fucker still hanging around?" Rafe asked, scowling so deep you could see the minus friends symbol appear above his head like he was a Sim.

Topper eyed him for a second, clearly still bitter about the punch, and shrugged. "High school doesn’t start for him until next week, so he’s sticking around at his aunt’s place a little longer."

Um, the tension at this table was basically tangible now. Rafe was glaring at Topper like he was more pissed at him than Rob being in town.

"And I thought if Y/n wanted a date to the Gloaming," Topper continued, "they could go together."

Cara nodded in agreement (HUH?) and turned to you. "Yeah, oh my god, you vibed so well and you’d look so cute together."

Oh, you knew what she was doing. What all of them were trying to accomplish here. And it just made you want to crawl under the table and disappear.

You knew they meant well, but trying to get Rafe to ask you out by making him jealous or competitive or whatever? Absolutely and definitely the wrong move.

And Rafe thought so too. His smile twisted with irritation, and--

OKAY GIRL LET’S DE-ESCALATE THIS.

You very politely shook your head with a smile, trying to ignore the way your palms got clammy. "That’s a nice thought, Topper, thanks, but I feel like that would just give him the wrong idea."

Topper’s brows twitched but he nodded. "Still, you could keep it in mind."

MY MIND IS FULL ALREADY, THANKS.

"Yes, thanks," you replied anyway, relaxing a little when Rafe seemed to shift his attention back to his food, finally grabbing a fork and eating his disaster of a wrap like that.

Wait.

Oh no.

You saw it. Everyone (except Rafe, who was fully focused on stabbing his wrap) looked at Molly with this quiet, knowing anticipation.

COULD THEY PLEASE DROP IT. THIS WAS GETTING OUT OF HAND.

Molly let out a small breath and gave Rafe one of her signature sweet smiles. "What about you, Rafe?"

"Huh?" He looked up, mouth full of wrap.

"You planning to ask someone out, or are you going solo?" Molly asked, and wow, instead of snapping at her, Rafe just furrowed his brows.

Molly really was an angel.

And holy shit, everyone at the table seemed to hold their breath. YOU INCLUDED BECAUSE JCDKWLSJSDHJFUJDFLS.

Rafe swallowed his bite, a deep crease between his brows, and said: "If every girl keeps being this fucking annoying—"

“Yo, dude,” Kelce cut him off firmly, and oh. My. God. The way he actually looked intimidating when he wanted to, voice soft but with just the right amount of warning. Um… kinda hot, BYE.

Molly just chuckled softly, AND THANK YOU QUEEN for not taking Rafe’s moody ass to heart.

“What?” Rafe said, gesturing to his food. “Just trying to fucking eat here and y’all keep pissing me off with annoying-ass questions. If I wanted to giggle about the fucking Gloaming, I’d have sat with a bunch of 6th graders.”

Cara snorted. “Then maybe let them show you how to eat properly too.”

All of you chuckled. Except Rafe, whose face turned into a full-on scowl (keep it up and it’ll stick like that forever). He aggressively stabbed his fork into a slice of avocado (and when it slipped off, you nearly lost it).

Then he raised the now-empty fork and pointed it at everyone, a crooked smile on his face. “You know what. You’re all fucking lucky I let yesterday’s bullshit slide.”

Duuude.

Was he seriously still salty about everyone spending a few hours with Sarah and the Pogues? Pleaseee, this weird class war in his head needed to be eradicated immediately.

The funniest part was how everyone just stared at him with the most deadpan looks ever (even Kelce and Molly BAHAHAHA) over the way this boy was acting up, and how he'd behaved yesterday.

Like, stupid idiot not realizing he was lucky they let his bullshit slide, But alright, go off, king of dramatic tantrums.

For a good ten seconds, the table was dead silent—just muffled voices from the other tables and the faint sound of the dining hall’s radio—until Molly finally spoke, her kind eyes and soft smile doing the absolute most.

“Did you guys know there’s a new museum opening in town?”

And just like that, the others jumped straight back into the convo like Rafe hadn’t said a damn thing.

You barely managed to stifle your laugh as he turned his head to meet your eyes, giving you such a fucking deadpan look like he was in The Office. “Next time we’ll fucking eat alone.”

AJSDFJKDFJKS OKAY.

The fact he kept including you in everything like it was the most natural thing in the world since Saturday? MADE YOU FEEL ALL KINDS OF SPECIAL.

Cheeks on fire, you chuckled and nodded toward his plate (which honestly looked like a bomb had gone off on it). “First, you gotta learn how to eat alone.”

Instead of snapping back, he just snorted, lips twisting into the cutest smile ever.

The rest of the lunch break actually went pretty smoothly. Luckily, the others mostly avoided any topic that might trigger Rafe (which was like, a solid two in total), and they even stayed away from talking about their night with Sarah and the Pogues.

Topper brought up the upcoming surf tournament again—the one he’d already mentioned last week at Kelce’s—and got kinda grumpy about the fact that the bruise on his face might still show up in the photos if it didn’t disappear by next week.

To which Cara simply said: “Don’t be such a baby. Just make sure they only shoot your other side. That one’s better anyway.”

“See,” Rafe added, looking at Topper. “Did you a favor.”

As soon as the bell rang, everyone got up to head to class.

Molly gave Kelce a kiss (they claimed they were only dating but yeah, wedding bells were ringing loud and clear), and headed off with Cara. You didn’t even get a real chance to say goodbye to Rafe and Topper because Kelce already started dragging you away, way too excited about the fact that Rafe was using TrackerBuddies again.

“He still hasn’t added me back, though,” he said with a slight frown as you walked down the hallway.

You chuckled, remembering they’d already had a plant together before but Rafe hadn’t watered it. “I’m sure he will. He’s probably still mourning the loss of your first plant.”

“Nah,” Kelce said, waving a hand with a grin. “He’s too busy with yours.” He nodded, impressed. “Level three already after just one day.”

Um, if he only knew Rafe kinda farmed the XP using real money. You definitely needed to tell him to stop doing that.

“Yeah, I think the only reason he re-joined that app was to beat your level with me,” you said, amused.

Kelce snorted. “Not surprised. If ‘competitive’ was a person, it’d be him.” He let out a laugh as you rounded the corner. “Back in 6th grade, he started surfing just to beat Topper.”

WAIT. RAFE COULD SURF??? OMFG.

The mental image of a wet, sunburnt Rafe in perfectly fitting shorts, riding waves and jogging back to shore with a surfboard under his arm, breathing heavy and—GIRL.

“And did he?” you asked, trying to chase away those unholy thoughts.

Kelce nodded, eyes wide. “Totally did. Dude devoured Topper with every wave. If he hadn’t quit after a month because he got bored of the sport, he probably could’ve gone pro.” His voice turned a bit more serious. “That’s the thing about him. He’s got so much potential, picks up on stuff so damn fast if he actually wants to. He could do so much more with himself but he just… doesn’t.”

Yeah, you’d noticed that too.

He crushed science and economics classes and even adapted quickly in art. Like when you were working on your collage? You only had to show him a few examples and he picked exactly the snippets you would’ve chosen. Not to mention his driving skills.

He already handled his Benz like he’d been born behind the wheel, but your dad’s Corvette? He adapted to that thing like it was second nature. Which, hot as hell.

Watching him drive in general? HOLY SHIT. That was one of the few times he got that concentrated, that focused and… ughhh you needed to chill.

“You and him are closer than he makes it seem, right?” you dared to ask, voice and expression full of genuine curiosity.

Kelce laughed. “I was his first friend in elementary school. He almost beat me up after I accidentally bumped into him.” A big grin spread across his face. “But I beat him up first and I guess that tamed him. He's still salty about it to this day.”

That made you laugh too, just as you came to a stop in front of your classroom. “I’m guessing that’s where the love-hate relationship between you two comes from.”

“Nah, that's his perspective,” Kelce replied with a soft smile, tapping his chest. “I love that guy, even if he acts like a rabid dog sometimes.”

You didn’t even get the chance to respond because Mrs. Richman was already calling the two of you into class.

Yay. Two hours of English with the way-too-enthusiastic teacher in her twenties who was already married and had two kids like OKAY.

And not even ten minutes into the lesson, your phone buzzed in your bag. Richman usually didn’t care, as long as you delivered during class.

So you fished your phone out of your bag and were immediately greeted by this absolute bomb:

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.

What a fucking rollercoaster of emotions that conversation had been. Like, the literal heart spike that first picture alone had given you should’ve been enough to get you rushed to the ER.

AND THEN HE HAD THE AUDACITY NOT TO STRAIGHT-UP SAY HE WAS ASKING YOU OUT AS A DATE FOR THE GLOAMING, HELP OMG. 

For one tiny fucking second, you’d actually thought he was asking you out to be his girlfriend (the delusions were truly getting out of hand). OH MY GOD, YOU COULD STILL FEEL YOUR CHEEKS BURNING AND THAT TINGLY FEELING UNDER YOUR SKIN JUST THINKING ABOUT IT.

Okay no. This was too much.

And here you thought you’d mastered the art of being chill around Rafe and just being yourself, which—this nonchalant persona you’d projected during the chat? Yeah, that was just you gaslighting yourself into staying calm BUT OH. MY. GOD.

Rafe Cameron. Wanted. You. To. Be. His. Date. To. The. Gloaming.

That was.

Crazy.

Insane.

Absolutely batshit impossible.

LIKE HAD THE OTHERS MANIFESTED THIS JUST EARLIER??? OR HAD RAFE ACTUALLY FALLEN FOR THEIR 'LET'S MAKE HIM JEALOUS' TACTIC????

I’m fine :) Totally fine :)

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP PASSING OUT AHHHHH.

And god, AGAIN, how freaking clingy that guy was. It was kinda sweet and sad at the same time. He seemed genuinely excited about you, but also? The way he clung to you so tightly probably meant he was scared you’d slip through his fingers or whatever angsty stuff was going on in that boy’s brain.

The broken sound of his voice as he called after you last night, begging you to stay, still echoed in your head, making your chest clench whenever you thought about it.

However, you needed to set some boundaries. As much as you loved his attention, this couldn’t spiral out of control. Clingy was just a short step away from possessive and controlling. And since Rafe only did extremes and already had a tendency to slip into that kind of stuff real quick, you needed to be careful.

Not cold or distant, just a little more mindful.

Like when he mentioned having a claim on you for the Gloaming... Sure, yeah, he was the first to ask you out, and yeah, he technically had dibs since he wanted to give it another shot (and also he was your crush...so) but calling it a claim?

Hmm. Definitely a grey area.

HAHAHAHA. FUNNY.

From not even speaking to Rafe for literal years to friendship, cuddling, and (almost) being each other's dates for the Gloaming in just one week? Yeah.

The fact that your brain had kept up with all of that without combusting or exploding? Impressive.

“Miss Y/l/n?”

Startled, you looked up from whatever void you’d been staring into.

Shit.

Mrs. Richman was eyeing you with one brow raised and that well-known face that screamed I knew you weren’t listening.

Ughhhh.

Your face immediately flushed as the whole class turned to look at you, Kelce included, who gave you a huge shit-eating grin from the side.

Okay. No other choice.

You plastered on your friendliest teacher-face, a sheepish smile tugging at your lips as you said: “Sorry, could you repeat the question please?”

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

“Why don’t you two just get it over with already and fuck?”

You let out a baffled laugh at Cara’s deadpan expression.

After school, you’d met up and decided to grab some smoothies at the beach. And well, obviously you’d filled her in on everything since last night after you and Rafe dipped.

Oh, and kinda everything before that too. Your little heated conversation, how you ended up cuddling again etc. etc. (you did skip the boner incident because... yeah).

AND. You respected Rafe’s wish not to tell anyone about Ruthie’s blackmailing. As much as your whole body was itching to tell Cara—because SHE would definitely know how to beat that bitch at her own game, and also she was your bestie, you usually told her everything—you kept quiet.

Luckily, she was solely focused on the fact that Rafe had asked you out for the Gloaming anyway.

“I’m serious, Y/n,” she said, blinking dramatically at you. “Like...” she gestured randomly through the air, “you like him, he likes you. You’re obviously into him, and he’s so down bad for you, too. And god, don’t even get me started on that tension between you two.” She shook her head, pointing both hands at you. “I don’t even get why you two agreed on this whole friendship thing when you could’ve just started dating.”

UM.

Another surprised laugh escaped your lips, and Cara frowned. “I mean, you basically went on three dates already, sooo.”

“C, what are you even talking about?” you asked with a chuckle, sipping your iced smoothie.

“He took you out on Saturday,” she replied, raising her brows. “Twice, actually. And last night? That was pretty much a date.” She started counting on her fingers. “Paid for your ticket and snacks, sat down with you on one of those couple lounge beds—”

“That was just a regular lounge bed.”

“For couples, yes. Anyway,” she went on, “you fucking cuddled! I’m genuinely shocked you two haven’t kissed yet. But whatever.” She held up four fingers. “And then you dipped together afterward. Tell me that wasn’t a date.”

Okay. She had a point. But.

“Rafe’s straightforward,” you said, playing with your straw. “If he wanted it to be a date, he would’ve said so.”

Cara shook her head with a smug uh-uh expression.

“What?” you asked, raising your brows.

“He’s nervous,” she said, and you almost laughed out loud. “He’s only ever had short little things with girls. But with you? You’re not into hookups or meaningless stuff, so he knows it’s either all or nothing.” She tilted her head, smiling crookedly. “Plus, it’d be his first real relationship as well, and he’s never actually dated anyone before.”

“C, please.”

Cara blinked. “What?”

“I get what you’re saying,” you said with a small smile, “but like I already said yesterday, I don’t wanna ruin this thing with him by jumping ten steps ahead.” You let out a slightly overwhelmed laugh. “I mean, I gotta adjust to this situation at first. And I wanna get to know him properly before I even start thinking about that kind of stuff.”

Cara nodded like a maniac, motioning at you. “Exactly. That’s what dating is for. Getting to know each other, spending time together, seeing who the other person really is.”

“So basically what we’re already doing,” you said, amused.

She slapped her hand on the table. “Girl, that’s exactly what I’m telling you. Just make it official already. Talk to him, say the obvious out loud, and tell him nothing needs to change but instead of calling it your little meetings hangouts, you’d like to call them dates.”

Why was she so good at being convincing? Oh right, there was a reason she was in the debate club.

And honestly? If you brought that up at the right moment and made it sound like a little joke, you could test the waters and see how he reacted and then actually talk about it.

AGAIN: With Rafe, you never had to be afraid of doing dumb shit or embarrassing yourself.

He literally didn’t care. He might joke about it for like a second, and then drop it.

And didn’t he just say earlier during the ride to school that he’d be open to something serious with the right person? And didn’t Kie say just yesterday that you could be that person? And didn’t she also say he was probably into you (which, hello, you still hadn’t fully spiraled over)? 

AND APPARENTLY EVERYONE ELSE THOUGHT YOU TWO WOULD BE PERFECT TOGETHER TOO??????

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH. THIS WAS TOO MUCH FOR YOUR BRAIN TO PROCESS AND DIGEST.

“Just think about it,” Cara said, her tone soft this time. “I honestly think just the fact you’d have the guts to bring it up would make him submit instantly.”

You laughed. “I don’t want him to submit. Both sides should want it."

Cara shrugged, lips tugging down. “Couldn’t be me.”

“Yeah, speaking of,” you said, a huge grin spreading across your face. “How’s it going with Topper?”

And that’s how you spent the rest of the afternoon—chatting, giggling, and sipping on delicious smoothies on the wooden deck of Harry’s Smoothie Bar, overlooking the sea.

Cara told you all about how last night had gone for her. 

AKA how she cuddled with JJ during Barbie, how she later found out he shared a blanket with Pope during Transformers (jjpope confirmed?), how extremely whiny Topper had been in the first aid tent and how much he’d complained and sulked, ranting about Rafe the whole time.

How Cara had told him to shut the fuck up if he didn’t want her to leave, and how they were the only ones left after Kelce and Molly had dipped too, along with Sarah and the Pogues right after, because they wanted to go skinny dipping or something.

“God, I would've loved to join, but drama queen Topper obviously didn’t wanna come along,” she said, rolling her eyes. “So I stayed with his pitiful ass.”

Then she told you how impressed she was with Topper’s knowledge of politics and his take on the whole system, and how she’d almost considered blowing him in the toilet stalls for that but held herself back because she wanted to keep him on edge a little longer.

“He’s gotta work a little harder than just pulling this pathetic act,” she said.

You chuckled. “Don’t think it’s an act.”

“Yeah, no, me neither. Anyway…”

Eventually, you decided to head out—Cara had a hangout planned with Topper later (why was she allowed to call it a hangout??? whatever), and obviously, you were meeting up with Rafe.

Right on time, at 4 PM, you got home, said hi to your parents, and went straight to your room. HEART ALREADY RACING WITH EXCITEMENT AT SEEING HIM AGAIN (help I'm falling way too deep).

But when you pulled out your phone and sat down in your desk chair, a weird feeling started creeping into your chest.

Zero messages from Rafe.

You’d expected more weird or suggestive reaction pics he found on Pinterest, or maybe an update about how the conversation with his dad had gone but nothing?

Weird.

And you couldn’t help but wonder if it had gone that bad. Like bad enough for him to fall back into a coke-fueled high to drown his emotions like yesterday.

You'd kinda been ignoring his addiction and little criminal side hustle because just a boy doing dumb shit HAHAHAHA RIGHT, but if he was already—

The buzzing of your phone in your hand snapped you out of your near-spiral.

RAFE!

But he wasn’t texting you. NO THIS GUY WAS CALLING YOU.

HELP.

Okay okay everything’s chill, it’s not like this is the first time he’s calling me. GIRL YOU CUDDLED LAST NIGHT WITH HIM BFFR OMFG.

“Hey,” you answered, your voice pitched higher than it should be.

“Hey,” he said, chuckling. “You good?”

You nodded—AND THEN REALIZED HE COULDN’T SEE YOU—so you quickly said, “Yeah, Cara just dropped me off and I was getting ready.”

Another chuckle, though this one sounded… slightly off? “Aight. Just wanted to check if you're already home and let you know I'm gonna hop in the shower real quick, then I’ll head over. So I’ll be there in like 20.”

You very quickly pushed away the rush of images of RAFE IN THE FREAKING SHOWER and asked, totally normally: “Perfect. How’d things go with your dad?”

Oh no.

That pause said everything.

“Uh, yeah… maybe better if I tell you in person,” he replied awkwardly (?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!!?!).

Um, no. He couldn't give you a teaser like that and just leave you hanging… for like a few minutes BUT STILL.

You let out a strained chuckle. “Short version?”

“Trust me, it’s better if I tell you—”

“Just tell me if it went well or not.”

Another pause. Then: “For you or me?”

UM WHAT.

Heart rate skyrocketed. Immediate panic rushed through your nerves. And you couldn’t help but wonder if this had something to do with Gracie.

“Uh, what?” you asked, forcing a smile into your voice.

ANOTHER FREAKING PAUSE.

“I mean… for me, it could be real good,” he said, sounding way too excited for some reason. “But that depends on you.”

THIS WAS GETTING WORSE BY THE SECOND.

You frowned. “Am I supposed to convince my dad to take the deal or what?”

Rafe chuckled. “Shit, no, don’t think that’s something he’d be into.”

DUDE.

“Then what? Just spit it out please.” Your nerves were about to snap if he kept dragging this out.

A cute laugh escaped his lips. “Alright, alright.”

AND THEN ANOTHER STUPID PAUSE, I’M ABOUT TO LOSE IT.

“Okay, uh,” he started, clearing his throat awkwardly. “You know the stuff Molly does around Kelce?”

Ummmmmmmmmmmmm.

“Being herself” you stated, completely tensed.

WHERE THE FUCK WAS THIS HEADING?

“Yeah, no,” Rafe said, letting out a nervous breath (HIM BEING NERVOUS ALWAYS MADE YOU 200% MORE NERVOUS). “That whole acting like she just chugged a love potion thing. Heart eyes, giggles, and shit like that, you know.”

UH-HUH.

“I don’t think she’s acting,” you said, smiling nervously, feeling your hands grow clammy. "Pretty sure that's called being in love."

Rafe let out a breath that was somewhere between a scoff and a chuckle. “Yeah, whatever.”

PAUSE.

And then he dropped the biggest bomb yet:

“I kinda need you to do the same.”

w h a t .

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K M S M A S T E R L I S T | <- P R E V I O U S | N E X T ->

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

T A G L I S T F O R M (taglist for this series is CLOSED but you can sign up for my other stuff through this link)

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[jennxxe]

NSFW Alphabet // Erik Campbell.

pairing — erik campbell x fem! reader

warnings — 18+, p in v, sex, unprotected sex, piercing play (nipple + prince albert), degradation kink, praise kink, impact play (belt, spanking, paddle), smoking, choking, breath play, orgasm denial, temperature play, knife play, marking, semi public, dirty talk, masturbation

a/n — i got invested in this one

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

— He acts like he doesn’t need it—“I’m fine, what are you looking at?”—but will immediately collapse next to you and drape himself over your chest.

— Always helps clean you up. Always. Might even mumble something sweet if you catch him in the soft haze. (Clean you up with a towel or his tongue? Your choice.)

— Chain-smokes afterward. He loves when you light one for him, especially if you smoke too. (bonus — he finds it hot as fuck when you take a puff, kiss him and let him inhale it out of your mouth. Instant boner.)

— Would love to go to a late night drive after to get take out or park somewhere secluded and just talk.

B = Body Part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

— On himself? His tongue. Or his hands. He knows what they do. He’s smug about it.

— On you? Your thighs. He’s obsessed. Bites them. Leaves bruises. Makes homes out of them. Bonus if you straddle his lap, he’ll never shut up about it.

— Also loves your mouth. Especially when it’s full. Or smirking like you’ve got him wrapped around your finger (you do).

C = Cum (anything to do with cum)

— It’s a whole thing with him. He likes mess. Marking. Ownership. Watching it drip.

— Loves leaving evidence. On your stomach, chest, tongue, he doesn’t care. You’re art. He’s just signing his name.

— Loves to hit it raw. Any hole, he’s down. Seeing it leak out after does something to him.

— Bonus: he does have a Prince Albert, so yeah… the sensations? Unhinged. He watches your reaction like it’s a religious experience.

D = Dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

— He’s a perv in denial, and the secrets he keeps? Filthy. Starting with the fact that he’s definitely stolen your underwear.. more than once. The first time, it was “by accident.” You left them at his place, and they ended up balled in the pocket of a hoodie he refused to wash. But the second time? He took them on purpose. Stuffed them into his back pocket when you weren’t looking. He keeps them in his nightstand and jerks off with them clenched in his fist when he misses you too much to pretend otherwise.

— One of his lowest moments? He got off to a voicemail. Not even a sexy one. You were just half-asleep, whispering something about picking you up, soft and breathy and warm in a way that wrecked him. He listens to it on repeat when he’s desperate, biting his fist to keep quiet.

— He’s thought about you tattooing your name on him more times than he’ll admit. Not in some subtle hidden spot either. No, across his ribs. Over his heart. Down his thigh. Somewhere that screams taken. He wants it to hurt. Wants it to be permanent. He won’t ask, though, not yet. Not until he’s sure you’d like that kind of ownership. Not until you say it first.

— He’s filmed himself once, moaning your name, fingers tight around the base of his cock, whispering all the things he’d never say out loud. Never sent it. But it’s in a locked folder. Just in case.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

— He talks a big game and, unfortunately for the world, backs it up.

— Not just physically experienced, but emotionally reckless. Knows how to tease, edge, manipulate every sound out of you like a symphony of sin.

— And he learns you fast. Obsessed with what makes you twitch, beg, break.

F = Favorite Position

— Erik’s a greedy little sinner when it comes to positions, he wants you laid out like a work of art, and he wants every inch visible. Anything with a mirror involved? He’s obsessed. Bent over the bathroom sink, legs shaking, while he watches your expressions shift with every thrust? Chef’s kiss.

— You on his lap in the tattoo chair, knees pressed into the leather, his ink-stained hands gripping your hips while you grind down on him? He lives for it. He’ll growl things like “this chair’s seen pain, baby—go ahead and make it feel something else.”

— He’s a sucker for taking you against the wall of the studio after hours, shirt half-off, hair a mess. One leg hitched around his waist while he bites your neck and thrusts up into you like he’s got something to prove.

— Prone bonEEeeE.

— But also face-to-face? That’s when he lets it get real. Chest to chest, tangled fingers, forehead pressed to yours, he’ll go deep. Snarling one second, kissing your tear-streaked cheeks the next. He loves that contradiction.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

— He’s got a wicked sense of humor, even when things get heated. Biting remarks. Snarky moans. “You like that, sweetheart? Thought so.”

— Will laugh if something goes wrong, gets even hotter when you laugh with him.

— Calls you obscene pet names just to make you blush. Then backs it up like the menace he is.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they?)

— Grooming is chaotic. Sometimes he trims, sometimes he forgets, sometimes he shaves just because you joked about it.

— And yes, the carpet matches the drapes. Dark. Thick. Wild.

— Sometimes shaves it in the shape of a star or something else.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

— He’ll fuck you like he’s mad at the world, like you’re the only soft thing he’s ever had and he doesn’t know how to handle it. But then he slows just enough to let his fingers thread through yours, to breathe your name against your collarbone like a prayer.

— Eye contact ruins him. He’ll hold it, even when he’s red-faced and breathless, because he needs to see what he’s doing to you. Needs you to know it’s not just about getting off, it’s about you. About this unspoken thing that he’s too emotionally constipated to name.

— His version of "I love you" comes out in other ways. The way he pulls you close after, rubbing lazy circles into your back. The way he kisses your temple mid-thrust.

J = Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

— Rarely does it anymore, he’s addicted to you.

— But when he does? It’s filthy. Loud. Desperate.

— He keeps something of yours nearby. Shirt. Panties. A necklace you forgot. He’s down bad. He likes it there.

— Has an album of your nudes he uses. He also jacks off to the amateur sex tapes you two filmed together.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

— Piercing play is his holy grail. Loves when you pull them, bite them, suck on them like it’s a challenge. The way he twitches when you flick them with your tongue? It’s practically a reward. And his Prince Albert? His favorite party trick. He lives for the look on your face the first time you realize just how intense it makes everything feel. He’d get another piercing—a ladder, a reverse PA, whatever—if you so much as murmured you liked the current one. No hesitation.

— Impact play is a language, and he speaks it fluently. He gets off on the sounds you make when he spanks you raw, the fingerprints blooming into bruises. He keeps a paddle and belt in the bottom drawer of his dresser, “just in case.”

— Praise kink meets degradation kink in a chaotic, addictive cycle. He’ll call you filthy, stupid, a brat right before whispering how perfect you feel, how he’s never wanted anyone the way he wants you. He doesn’t even realize how raw he sounds half the time, his voice breaking on “mine,” or “look at you taking it so good.”

— Control play. Choking. Overstimulation. Orgasm denial. If you give him the green light, he’ll keep you teetering on the edge just to see you beg. Loves to tie your wrists with his belt and make you ask, not because he wants to withhold, but because he wants to hear you want him.

— Biting is his second love language. Your thighs, your shoulder, your neck, especially if he’s marking you up before a night out. You’re his canvas, and he paints in bruises.

• Temperature play, knife play, breath play—he’s curious, and shameless about it. If you say yes, he’ll explore everything with you. If you say no, he’ll still fantasize about it when he jerks off later. With teeth in his lip and your name on his tongue.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

— His tattoo shop after hours is the #1 spot. Ink-stained counters, mirrors smudged with your handprints, your back arched over the very same chair he pierces clients on—it’s ritualistic to him.

— Anywhere with risk. A public bathroom, the back of his beat-up car, or a stockroom at someone else’s workplace. He gets off on the tension. The eyes that could see but don’t.

— Loves catching you off guard in non-bedroom places; kitchen, stairwell, the floor of your apartment. Messy. Unplanned. That’s his thing.

— If you ever let him take you on the rooftop, under the sky, he’ll genuinely believe you’re trying to kill him—in the best way.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

— Your attitude. Mouthy, bratty, sarcastic? He thrives on it. If you roll your eyes at him, congrats, you’re getting railed.

— Clothes you stole from him. You in his shirt = feral Erik. You in only his shirt = he’s already pulling your panties to the side.

— The way you look after a fight. Tears on your cheeks, biting your lip, glaring at him? Yeah. He’s painfully hard.

— Piercings. Yours, his, doesn’t matter. Tug his nipple rings while he’s inside you and you’ll ruin his whole life in seconds.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

— He won’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable. Period. If you say no, it’s off the table, no teasing, no pouting, just full respect.

— Not into extreme humiliation. Light degradation? Hell yes. Calling you worthless or hurting your self-esteem? Not a chance. He’ll slap himself for even thinking it.

— Silence. He needs noise. Needs your sounds, needs to hear you fall apart. If you go quiet, he’ll literally stop and ask what’s wrong.

— Absolutely not into denial without payoff. He’ll edge you, sure, but if you’re crying and begging and earn it? You’re getting everything.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

— Obsessed with giving. Utterly obsessed. Goes down like it’s his dying wish and you’re the pearly gates.

— He doesn’t stop until your thighs are shaking and you’re clawing at his hair. Might pin your hips down just to watch you struggle.

— Receiving? Oh, he loves it. A lot. Especially when you’re looking up at him with those eyes. But if he had to choose? He’d live between your legs forever.

— And yeah, that PA piercing? You already know. When he’s on the receiving end, the sounds he makes will haunt you in delicious ways.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

— 90% of the time? Fast. Rough. Relentless. He grabs, bites, slams like he’s trying to etch your name into his bones.

— But if you ask nicely? Whisper in his ear? He can go slow. Real slow. Cruel slow. Dragging it out until you're clawing the sheets and sobbing his name.

— He’s a rhythm guy. Knows how to build, how to hold you on the edge, how to destroy you when the moment hits.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

— He lives for quickies. Pulls you into a bathroom stall like he’s a high school delinquent. Unzips his jeans like he’s been waiting all day.

— Can make it quick and dirty or dangerously intense depending on the mood. Either way, you leave shaking.

— Doesn’t care where. Doesn’t care when. If he’s hard and you’re there? Game on. Bonus points if you wear a skirt.

— Secretly gets off on the idea that someone heard. Or might see you after. Legs wobbling. Makeup smeared.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

— He’s a freaky little gremlin. Will try anything once. Twice if he liked it.

— He’s got a thing for risking consequences. Getting caught, getting dirty, doing it somewhere or somehow he shouldn’t.

— Knife play? He’s game. Mirror play? Already grabbing one. Bondage? He’s bought rope.

— But if you ever say stop, or hesitate? He’s shutting it down, no questions asked. Only plays wild if you're both locked in.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

— Ridiculous. Stupid. Unholy. Man has the stamina of a demonic rockstar on espresso.

— One round? Never enough. Two? Still warming up. Three? That’s the baseline.

— Can go for hours. Especially if you tease him first. He’ll make it a mission to ruin you completely before he even finishes.

— Sweaty, panting, grinning like the devil by the end. You’ll be begging to tap out. He’ll pretend not to hear.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

— Yes. Yes. Yes. Entire drawer of them. Some handmade. Some custom. All used on you.

— Vibrators, plugs, restraints, clamps—he has no shame. Will strap one to you and watch.

— Will also use them on himself if you’re not around. He says he doesn’t, but he does. Maybe even sends you a video if he’s feeling reckless.

— And if you’re open to it? Toys + PA piercing + Erik’s filthy mouth = you seeing God. Twice.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

— He’s the king of teasing. Emotionally, physically, verbally, you name it. He’s the kind of bastard who’ll edge you with a vibrator and say it’s “for your own good.”

— Loves seeing you frustrated. Squirming. Begging. Gets off on dragging it out just to see you fall apart.

— Will finger you under the table at a dinner party, whisper filthy things in your ear when you’re trying to focus, lick your lip and then walk away.

— The kind of menace who stops right when you’re about to come and says “Say please.” But god—when you do? He devours you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

— He’s a noisy little freak. Growls, grunts, breathy curses, full moans if you really get him going.

— Dirty talk on overdrive. He can’t shut up—calls you baby, brat, sweetheart, slut—depending on the mood and what you’re doing to him.

— If you’re on top, you’ll hear the filthiest whines ever. His voice breaks. His breathing gets ragged. He’ll curse through clenched teeth like he’s barely holding it together.

— And if you do anything to his piercings? You’ll hear a choked-off moan that sounds like sin incarnate.

W = Wild Card (a random headcanon for the character)

— Erik has definitely gotten off to the thought of you riding him while he’s tattooing someone. No one else would know. You’d look so sweet perched in his lap, clenching around him while he keeps his poker face. It’s 100% unrealistic but whatever gets him to nut.

— He has a tattoo on his thigh that’s an inside joke between you two. Most people think it’s just a weird design. You know it’s a sketch you doodled on a napkin after sex.

— Keeps a secret photo of you on his phone, not even nudes, just you in one of his shirts, smiling half-asleep. That photo has saved his life on bad days.

— He loves to have sex with music in the back.

— Sends you dick pics. Every single damn day.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

— He’s lean, cut, and covered in ink. Veins on his arms. Abs you can trace with your tongue. Every tattoo tells a story he won’t talk about unless you kiss it first.

— As we know, nipple piercings. Silver hoops that clink when you bite them. He loves when you suck on them, tug them. Treat him mean, he’ll melt.

— And yeah, the Prince Albert. Silver. Thick. Curve-hugging. He knows exactly how to use it, how deep to go, how to tilt his hips until you're gasping. He watches your face every time it slides in.

— Average length but girthy. Feels like he was built to ruin you. And when he’s hard? Yeah. You’ll feel it before you see it. Through his jeans.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

— Sky high. Unreasonable. He’s constantly thinking about you, what you’d sound like, taste like, how you’d look on your knees.

— You touch his thigh and he’s hard. You kiss his neck and he’s already planning how to flip you over.

— He’s got this lowkey desperation he hides under all his snark. But when you say his name just right? All bets are off. He’ll throw you over the couch and take you right there.

— If he hasn’t had you in a while? He gets mean. Restless. Grabby. The kind of guy who’ll pull your panties down before you even shut the door.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

— Depends. If it was quick and rough? He’ll still be riding the high, sweaty, out of breath, probably smirking and teasing you.

— But if it was slow and intense? If you kissed him and whispered sweet things while he was inside you? He’s gone. Asleep instantly, wrapped around you like you’re oxygen.

— Snores. Lightly. Face buried in your hair, arm over your waist, legs tangled in yours. He might even mumble something like “mine” before he knocks out.

— And if you try to move? Good luck. He’ll drag you right back, even in his sleep. He needs you like a lifeline.

[cheonstapes]

miguel o'hara stars in... 'DOMESTIC BLISS' (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)

a/n~ i physically cannot write a fic about my favs w/o getting horny mid way through sorry ;( i just want miguel to wrap me up and brush my hair and hold me tight---- NNNNNNNNNNH (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

summary; miguel really likes your thighs…and how his cock looks between them.

wc; 700+

pairings; miguel o'hara x fem!reader

cw; SMUT!!, fluff, miguel and reader being cutesy, consensual somnophilia, thigh-fuckin, lil bit of blood, cummin inside, basically a breeding kink cause i said so, softdom! miguel, miguel being pussy whipped, sleepy sex, cumplay?, n e ways...not proofread - is one in the mornin

miguel loved nights like this. both of you wrapped up in warm, fluffy robes, and matching slippers - just enjoying each other’s company. 

“babe, grab my headband for me please?” 

walking over to where you were in the bathroom, he looks at your beautiful face through the mirror, sliding the cute headband on your head. “here, my love.” he trails a hand down your arm, wrapping it around your waist and he pulls you closer into him, your body pressed tightly against his rock solid chest. he doesn’t loosen his grip on you as you lean forward to wash your face, instead gripping your hips to hold you steady.

he still doesn’t let go of you when you walk over to your shared bed, tucking you under the covers and bringing you as close as he could to him. his face rested in the crook of your neck, lips pressing soft kisses against your warm skin. he really was the luckiest man in the world, blessed with this angel in front of him. his hands gently traced the curves of your body, the touch meant to be soothing but it was anything but for the throbbing he felt under the sheets.

he could hear you snoring quietly, the subtle rise and fall of your chest, the slenderness of your collarbones that were faintly littered with love bites. everything about you was just so perfect. especially those thighs of yours. those sexy, juicy, thighs - pressing against his. palming at your ass, he pulls you closer, if that was even possible - fingers moving to dip into your panti- oh, fuck, you weren’t wearing any.

this new revelation led to him fucking his thick cock through the tightness of your thighs, nudging your little clit with every thrust. he whimpers, actually whimpers, at the feeling, a sound he’d take to the grave - if you were awake right now, you would not let him live that down. but that didn’t matter right now, not when he was so close to painting those pretty thighs with his cum. or actually, why waste it? maybe he should just cum inside of you. it would save cleaning up in the morning, plus - you smelt so delicious after your shower, it’d be a shame to wash away that scent and his cum.

he angles his hips upwards, one hand on yours waist and the other keeping your head up as you sleep - the leaky tip of his cock pressing against your tight pussy. he doesn’t want to disturb your sleep, especially since you’re so cute when you sleep, so he only pushes the tip in - a faint pop! echoing through the room as he slips inside of you. “fuck, baby, s-such a tight pussy - isn’t she? looks like ‘m gonna have to stretch her out some more, hm?” soft whispers fall upon deaf ears, chuckling silently to himself as the sounds of your snoring get louder. 

the constant suctioning on his tip was driving him mad, brows furrowed tightly as he threw his head back against the plush pillows. biting his lips so hard he draws blood, the ruby liquid running down his neck as he stares down at his cock disappearing between your thighs - thighs that we’re starting to…move? you seemed to be regaining some sort of consciousness, small breathy moans left your plump lips, eyes blinking open as you turned to look at him. 

he was so caught up in your pussy, he didn’t even register your hand coming to push him deeper into your quivering cunt. your soft hand wrapping around him set him off, his hot, sticky, cum shooting straight against your womb as you take him all the way to the base. the other hand rests on his lower stomach running along the trail of hair that you love oh, so much - fucking yourself on his cock whilst he shoots white ropes along your walls.

“p-princess- mmph, shit- didn’t…i didn’t mean to wake you.” he really means that, he truly didn’t want to ruin your beauty sleep - but he couldn’t help but rub tight, slow, circles on your sticky clit, speaking lowly into your ear. “go back to sleep, beautiful, papí will take care of you, ‘kay?”

i mean shit, back to sleep we go! 

-ONE CHANCE, JST ONE CHANCE MIGUEL

[stnkiconverse]

Hello!! I wanted to ask if you could do Jeff, Masky, Hoodie and Ben (adult/fandom version of Ben and all separated) how would they react if their love didn't like the smell of cigarettes? (Because from what I know they all smoke ;3)

That's it! I love your writings they are so good to read <3

Luv u ^^

Smoker Creeps x Reader who doesn’t like the smell of smoke/weed.

J E F F T H E K I L L E R (cigarettes & weed)

- Instantly defensive when you bring it up. Not because he cares that much, but because he hates being told what to do :3

- "Oh, you don't like it? Damn. That's crazy." Proceeds to light up anyway.

- Expect him to make it your problem for at least a while. Blows smoke near you just to see you react. "That bad, huh?" Grinning like an asshole (i hate him 😒/j)

- If you really press him about it, he gets irritated. "You're acting like I pissed on the floor or something."

- But over time? He starts adjusting slightly without making a big deal out of it :p

- Won't smoke directly around you.

- Steps outside more.

- Maybe switches to edibles instead of smoking weed if you really complain.

- If you ever joke that he already smells like blood and sweat without the cigarettes, he'll flip you off but secretly be self-conscious. Might start chewing gum more. (not that he'll admit it)

T I M / M A S K Y (only cigarettes)

- Doesn't react much.

- You tell him you hate the smell of cigarettes, and he just gives a neutral nod, and goes “Okay.”

- He's been smoking for years, He's not quitting, but he respects your space.

- Always smokes outside 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

- Blows the smoke away from you. (If you’re near)

- If you mention it lingering on him, he washes his hands and changes shirts before coming near you (he hates doing it because it’s just giving you both more laundry to do, but he loves you 😫😫)

- The only time he gets annoyed is if you keep pushing him to quit. "I heard you the first time."

- If you're genuinely concerned for his health instead of just complaining, he might cut back a little :p

- He won't say anything about it, but you'll notice he smokes less often when you're around.

- If you say he tastes like an ashtray when he kisses you, he'll scoff but maybe pop in a mint next time. Maybe.

B R I A N / H O O D I E (cigarettes & weed)

- Smirks when you bring it up. "Damn. That's rough for you." Proceeds to exhale smoke dramatically (he’s so annoying >:(/j)

- Like Tim, he won't quit, but he won't push it on you either.

- Big on compromise. He's the type to be like, "Alright, I won't smoke inside if you stop giving me that look every time l smoke."

- If you hate the weed smell more than cigarettes, he'll just switch to edibles. "Doesn’t hit the same, but it’s more efficient."

- If you hate both, he sighs but starts covering the smell better.

- Sprays his hoodie more,

- Chews gum,

- & starts smoking outside.

- If you complain while he's high, he laughs his ass off. "You're literally mad at a plant right now."

B E N D R O W N E D (only weed)

- Fake betrayal. "Wait, you don't like the smell? Damn. Thought we were cool." Clutches chest dramatically (😒)

- Ngl- he's lazy as hell. He won't stop smoking weed, but he'll try to adjust in the easiest way possible.

- maybe opens a window,

- or uses a fan.

- Hotboxes his room instead of the whole house 😭😭

- If you really can't stand it, he might switch to edibles instead. But he's gonna complain.

- "Do you know how much more expensive these are?"

- "See what I do for you?" Says this while waving around his weed gummy.

- If you whine about it too much, he blows smoke in your face on purpose. "C'mon, it’s a plant."

- Laughing while you glare at him. (I’d break up w him right there 😭😭)

So basically:

- Jeff → Defensive at first, but low-effort adjustments over time. Won't quit but will smoke away from you more.

- Tim → Doesn't stop but respects your space. Only gets annoyed if you nag.

- Brian → Compromises easily, switches to edibles if needed. Still makes jokes about it.

- Ben → Lazy stoner behavior. Might swap to edibles, but expect complaints.

Sorry for making u wait so long 😔😔

Hope this was good enough tho!!

[redeemingvillains]

how mattheo would love you in every love language ♡

G I F T S

Mattheo wasn't proud of where his family money came from; in fact, most people didn't even know he was wealthy as he walked around in frayed robes and old hoodies.

But he l o v e d being able to spoil you.

It wasn't just about how expensive the gifts were...

...I mean some of it was (looking at you, diamond earrings for Christmas, the 16k gold 'M' around your neck, your new Louis Vuitton and the trip to Italy you took over fall break).

But the gifts that meant the most to you had nothing to do with what they cost: his favorite band t-shirt, worn and washed so many times it was heavenly soft, or the playlist he randomly texted you one day with every song that made him think of you.

Better yet were the smallest things that let you know you had been on his mind, like when he grabbed you extra dessert at dinner and brought it to you in the library while you were studying, or the flowers that showed up the morning of your big exam.

This boy lived to shower you every way he knew how.

W O R D S of affirmation

Mattheo is so cheeky and such a goofball, honestly.

He's quick with a joke, and his signature smirk, but he chooses his words very carefully around you and doesn't throw around empty compliments.

So, when he did speak up, you knew it was important.

You craaaveeed his praise and feedback, so when he picked you up for your first date and he didn't immediately say anything about your outfit, you were lowkey devastated.

But when you were walking hand in hand back to the castle after a perfect evening in Hogsmeade and he pulled you into his side and whispered "you are unbelievably gorgeous, I can't keep my eyes off of you" it was so much more sincere and meaningful.

(After that, you were his hook, line + sinker).

Not everything he'd say was about your looks. He would brag about you and gas you up to his friends, complimenting your intelligence, your kindness, your hard work.

"You know YN could have been a model? Yeah, they asked her and she said she wanted to focus on her studies, fucking brains and beauty that one."

And trust this carried over into the bedroom, the one place he went absolutely overboard, whispering every single thing you wanted to hear, knowing how crazy it drove you.

Quality T I M E

Something that was different with Mattheo right from the start is that you were always a priority to him.

Boys asked to hang out when you two already had plans? Too bad.

In big ways and little ways it was like he created moments to spend time together.

He'd go out of his way to walk you to every class, even though it made him late for all of his.

"And miss the chance to show off my girl to the whole school? Pass."

The way he'd lay on your bed as you did your nighttime skincare routine, or join you in the library to study.

(Well, you studied potions and he studied you).

He had a permanent seat next to you at every meal.

He'd only had to shove Pansy, then Draco, then Theo aside so many times before they got the hint, all shifting automatically when he came to join you now.

He would look for literally any excuse to be near you, to be in your orbit.

Acts of S E R V I C E

The way this boy would do literally anything for you. A n y t h i n g.

On anyone else, it would look foolish the way he ran after you like a schoolboy, but he cherished you like his queen.

Putting his jacket over puddles so you didn't have to step on them.

Rushing ahead of you to open every door.

Kneeling down to tie your shoe.

One fifth year once had the audacity to say something about it.

The next day he had a black eye.

Date nights? Organized, sorted, planned.

You basically never had to lift a finger again, you wanted for nothing.

He'd carry your books, really carry anything for you (your bag, your jacket, your wand, your water bottle).

And when he couldn't be there to walk you to class or carry your books, trust there were two Slytherin first years waiting for you to do it for him.

You were Riddle's Princess after all, and everyone knew it

Physical T O U C H

His hands. On you. All. The. Time.

Rubbing your thigh, his fingers tangling in yours or twirling your hair. A hand at your back in the hallways or grasping you firmly to him in larger crowds.

King of Casual Dominance™️

Why would you sit in a chair when his lap is open and waiting for you?

His head on your lap whenever possible so you could run your fingers through his chestnut curls.

And, conversely, not knowing what the fuck to do with his hands when you weren't around; his leg would bounce anxiously, his hands would fidget, messing with his tie, tapping on his desk, fiddling and twitching to feel your soft skin.

Oh and the way this boy kissed you...

In the morning. In the evening. On the stairs. In bed. Before Quidditch practice. In the middle of breakfast. During class. He did not give a single fuck who was around or what the circumstances were.

You're literally standing outside of transfiguration, two feet in front of McGonagall and his lips are warm and running over yours like he's going off to war. "That's enough Mr. Riddle!" her shrill voice would ring out.

(He'd ignore her).

And you'd slip past her a full minute later with rosy cheeks, trying to right your lipgloss, a shy smile on your face as you avoided eye contact with her.

taglist: @kenjikishimotoswifey, @mattiesgf, @sleepiibunniiii, @darlingshecried, @girllblogging777, @foivetimesacharm, @clar2aa, @broadwaybaby123, @slytherinscreamqueen

[k1mbe3rly]

If you didnt yet can you do wlw sae byeok alphabet please?

yess and also for @cassidyysblog requested as well but i deleted forgetting to take a ss of it💔

Sae byeok NSFW alphabet

⚠️strap on for girls but mainly for girls since she looks wuh luh wuh typeee⚠️

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

So angelic with you, getting you food and water and even washing you up and cleaning everything else

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Her favorite body part about you are your hands, she likes to hold the. and even play with your fingers when she’s bored, she also loves the hold your hand when she’s fucking you

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

She likes to swallow your cum a lot, sometimes she doesn’t fuck you for a week just to make you cum a lot more

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Her dirty secret is wanting to record yall and maybe even start an OF (only fans)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

she’s a little experienced she doesn’t have sex much but over all she does know what she’s doing

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

she likes missionary because she likes staring down at you as she fucks you seeing every little expression

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

NEVER goofing off, you will never catch her laughing or making a joke, the only time she laughs is when she’s teasing and edging you

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

she really don’t give a fuck about shaving, but she obviously shaves every now and than for you

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

very into the moment, very focused

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

no comment but she barely masturbates, when i mean barely i mean almost never

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

not much just praising and degrading yk the basics

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

anywhere in the house

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

dirty talk

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

anything hardcore like wax play or fire play or anything to hurt you

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

she likes to give a lot and mainly focus on you but doesn’t mind if you want to focus on her for that session

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

oo hunni.. bed shaking, bed breaking, headboard breaking, toes curling. i’m saying she’ll go ROUGH ROUGH but obviously goes gentle when you need it

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

she’s down for a quick eat out or a finger fucking quickie

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

not that really risky but if in public she’ll go for it if she really wants too

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

she can last MANY rounds and cums in about 30? minutes maybe longer

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

vibrator and strap on

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

she likes to tease every now and than

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

low moans, groans and pants

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

probably makes you finger yourself infront of her

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

the strap is 7 inches she has a longer one but thinks you aren’t ready for it

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

low, she’s not the type to have sex a lot unless you want it which you mainly do often but she doesn’t mind

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards

maybe when she’s done taking care of you a quick nap or just waits till the night

[lxkeee]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

—PART TWO

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: Daddy issues.

Notes: Glad you guys loved the first part despite it being so short.

PART ONE | PART THREE | NAVIGATION

The sunlight passed by the small gaps of the curtains, shining down on the face of a sleeping boy. Light blond hair messy but perfectly framing his beautiful face, red circles on his pale cheeks, a pop of color. He groans as he buries his face underneath the large fluffy white blanket, eventually groaning as he opens his eyes, [e/c] eyes adjusting to the brightness of his room. Sitting up on his queen sized bed that is surrounded by pillows. As much as he wants to sleep in, he has duties as an angel and as the son of [y/n] Caeles.

Getting out of bed, slipping his feet into the fluffy white slippers. He moved across his large room, stopping by a large mirror.

He frowns when sees his reflection, the only thing he can see is his deadbeat father who left his mother for another woman.

He hated it, he could see his supposed father staring back at him through the mirror. The fallen angel, Lucifer staring right back at him. A cruel reminder that he is his father's son.

He's thankful he has her eyes, at least he was able to have a piece of her on him. He hated his father, his mother never hid his father from him and told him everything what he wanted to know. He'd do anything for his mother. He loves her so much.

He knows that his mother often gets sad when he sees him, he knows because she could see the man that hurt her on his face. He doesn't blame her. He hated his face too, despite it being heaven's most beautiful facial features. He wished he had his mother's face instead.

Getting a large robe that was placed on the cushioned chair, draping it over his body. Time to get ready, he has a lot of work to do.

[Y/n] looks up from her newspaper, seeing her son finally entering the dining room, dressed in his military like uniform but in colors of white and gold. She sat on one of the chairs of the dining table, a breakfast already made by yours truly—pancakes and bacon and of course, two cups of steaming black coffee.

[Y/n]'s eyes lit up when she saw her son, “Good morning Xavier, did you sleep well?” she asked with a small smile, watching as the boy sat next to her. Xavier gave his mother a close eyed smile.

“Good morning to you too, mother. You look very beautiful this morning.” he says softly, closing his eyes as he felt his mother's hand ruffle his hair, playfully groaning. “Hey! I just brushed my hair.” Xavier says with a small pout and [y/n] chuckles and places a gentle kiss on the boy's forehead.

“I couldn't help it, my boy is just the sweetest.” [y/n] says and Xavier blushes softly and just chuckles.

“It is because I have the most amazing mother in the whole world, that's why.” he says.

[Y/n] smiled at him, “Oh, you... Aren't you just the sweetest?” she giggled and he just chuckled.

The two made a sign of the cross, praying to say thank you for the blessings they have received. Finishing the prayer, the two finally ate breakfast.

“So you're going to be training with your uncle today?” [y/n] asked, looking at the young man beside her. Xavier nodded, he would be training with Uncle Michael today.

“Yes, mother. I am hoping he can help me improve on how to fight.” He says with a small smile and [y/n] squished the young man's cheek, the latter pouting.

“I know you'll do great, you make me so proud.” [y/n] says softly and Xavier had to try so hard not to cry. He loves it when he makes her happy, his mom deserves the whole world after all.

“Thanks, mom.” he says softly and her eyes soften and they continue to eat breakfast.

After breakfast, Xavier helped his mother clean up the table and offered to wash the dishes. [Y/n] wanted to insist on doing it as she feared it would dirty his suit but the boy insisted. He just rolled up the sleeves and wore an apron.

When he was done doing his morning routine, he walked to the living room to see his mom already dressed for work. His eyes saddened, he won't be seeing her for a couple of days again.

Walking towards his mother, the older woman hugged her son. “Don't miss me too much, dearie.” [y/n] says with a giggle. Her hand rubbing circles on the boy's back.

“I'll try not to. I'm just worried.” Xavier says softly, he doesn't like it when she leaves to go to the mortal realm. He worries for her physically and mentally. Humans, human way of living is very... Mentally unhealthy and he fears it will affect his mother too.

[Y/n] smiled softly, patting the boys light blond hair. “Do not worry about me, Azrael would be there to protect me if needed.” she says with a smile.

With the mention of the angel of death, Xavier sees the older man like a father figure. The man has always been present in his life.

Xavier smiled and nodded, “Alright.”

[Y/n] smiles, “Good luck with training, don't overwork okay? Summon me if you must.” she says sternly as the two finally let go of the hug, her hand was placed on her waist.

Xavier nodded, “I promise and I will make you proud.”

[Y/n] grins, “That's my boy,” she says and snapped her fingers and a portal appeared, “Goodluck kiddo, I'll see you in a few days.” she says softly and places a kiss on his forehead before going inside the portal. The portal closes.

Taking one last look of himself on the mirror, the face of his biological father staring back at him. Xavier rolls his eyes and scoffed. Unrolling his sleeves, adjusting his collar. Unfurling his large and majestic white wings. It's time to train, he promised to become one of heaven's protector and he promised he'll rise the ranks and join his mother.

Training with his uncle went by smoothly, he did lost but at least he learned something. Xavier was flying around heaven, wanting to return home but his eyes landed on a familiar seraphim. Emily, his heart started to beat faster. He always liked the girl, the girl is pretty and kind, okay?

His eyes landed on the person wearing such bright red suit. An eyesore, really. A pop of color in heaven.

Xavier tilted his head and decided to approach the girls.

Emily jumped slightly in surprise, seeing the beautiful and handsome and nonchalant looking young general that is her friend landed beside her gracefully.

Yes, Xavier puts up a front in public. He doesn't want others to know he's a total Mama's boy.

Xavier nodded and gave Emily a gentle smile, “Greetings, Emily. Off to showing off a new soul around?” he asked, voice gentle and calm.

Emily grinned and blushed slightly, nodding. “Not exactly a new resident, just a visitor.” Emily explained and Xavier turned to look at this supposed visitor and he could feel himself freeze slightly.

Who wouldn't freeze when seeing the same face as you but in the opposite gender.

“Xavier, this is Charlotte Morningstar...” Emily says hesitantly, now remembering who's the biological father of the boy.

Xavier's eyes narrowed but was quickly replaced as he gave the new girl a closed eyed smile, a forced one. “Really? So that makes you my half sister then?” Xavier says with a grin and Charlie's whole being froze.

Emily looked at the two nervously, she knows Xavier isn't violent but she does know how the boy hates his biological father to the core.

“... Half sister...?” Charlie asked, her voice in disbelief.

“Indeed! We share the same father. It is a pleasure to meet you, Charlotte.” Xavier says with a grin but his eyes dull, no longer have the usual shine on them. Charlie was nervous, she doesn't know how to act around the boy. She knows he isn't lying because the boy literally looks like her father.

“How rude of me,” Xavier says with a small gasp, “Let me properly introduce myself, I am Xavier Caeles. Son of [y/n] Caeles. It is a pleasure to meet you, dear sister.” he says with a smirk, looking down on the girl (literally because he's taller than her, a trait he is thankful that he inherited from his mother. Good Lord, he would be miserable if he had his father's height), offering his hand for a handshake which the girl hesitantly and nervously returned.

“It is nice to meet you too... Xavier..” she says and Xavier grins, Emily just looked at the two nervously. Thanking that a fight nor an argument haven't started yet.

“It was a pleasure meeting you but I must go, I still have far more important matters to attend to. Emily, I'll catch up to you later.” Xavier says with a small smile, turning his back from the two girls.

Before he flies away, he stopped. Not bothering to look at his half sister, “Tell our dear father I said hi, okay? Farewell.” he says, not a single emotion in his voice. He quickly spreads his wings and flew off.

“Stars... I didn't expect to see my half sister today..” Xavier murmurs to himself as he flies back home.

Meanwhile, Charlie stood in disbelief next to Emily. Turning around to look at the Seraphim, “Was he really my...?” Charlie asked hesitantly and Emily nodded with a small sad smile, “Yes but it's not my story to tell.” Emily explained softly and Charlie nodded.

“Let us just continue showing you around, yeah?” Emily says softly and the princess of hell nodded.

Emily knows that Xavier's interest has been piqued. She knows he'll be there during the meeting now that he knows his half sister is going to be there.

@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @cadelinhadochoso

Taglist:

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 18] || [Chapter 20]

Rating: E Pairing: Soap x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K~ cw: SMUT, SMUT, SMUT. handjobs/fingering (unspecified). ejaculation (mentioned). Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: smut. smut. sweet. sweet. smut..

Chapter 19: Slippery Slope.

“Fuck… Johnny…” You whine as his hand slowly strokes up and down, his fingers rubbing over every inch of your skin.

“Shh… The acoustics, bonnie…” He tells you. “The neigbours are goin’ t’ear ye.” He whispers.

“W-Well…!” You try to complain but the words die in your lips as your head dips back against his chest.

Your bathtub isn’t the biggest, but you and Johnny were able to fit yourselves inside, with him sitting behind you, spooning you. His thick, muscular arms are wrapped around you the same way they were at the shop a week ago, protective, warmth… strong.

He’s been surprisingly gentle this whole time, washing your body and helping get your back, his rough hands sometimes sliding and coping a feel of your skin as it was lathered up with soap.

Somehow that evolved into his hand being between your thighs, making you moan and squirm in his embrace. “Shh…” He keeps shushing you as if he’s not doing anything that should warrant them.

“Stop shushing me, Johnny…” You whine. “You’re so frustrating!” You grumble.

“Don’t be giving me lip now, bonnie…” He whispers as he bites your earlobe and then draws his lips down the side of your neck and onto your shoulder.

“F-Fuck…” You shiver as he sucks onto the skin right where you neck meets your collarbone, his tongue lapping at the skin as his fingers work you over.

The water’s getting cold, and your legs are the first feeling the change in temperature, propped up on the edges of the tub so he can keep touching you, while his own are barely contained inside.

But you don’t care. The pleasure he’s wringing out of you with surprisingly nimble fingers considering how thick and big they are makes you whine and moan, your sounds of pleasure echoing off the tile in the bathroom.

The knot in your stomach is getting tighter and tighter with each second he spends playing with you, your legs trembling and your whole body twitching and squirming in his embrace as you chase your orgasm.

And when it finally crashes onto you, you jump a bit, almost headbutting Johnny in the process, your head falling back on his strong, hard shoulder, some water spilling over the edge of the bath.

His name falls from your lips as your eyes flutter closed and your panting becomes the only thing heard in your bathroom. He grunts behind you, clearly enjoying the sight of you coming undone, his face resting against your shoulder as he sighs against your back.

Once you’ve finally caught you breath, he kisses your shoulder. “That feel good?” He coos in your ear and carefully licks up a stripe from your neck to your jawline before peppering kisses around your jawline.

You nod at him, eyes still closed and sigh happily, snuggling into his warm, robus embrace. “I’ll take that as a ‘Yes’.” He murmurs with a chuckle.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and dressed, the water’s getting cold.” He tells you as he moves up and presses a kiss to your temple.

That stirs you a bit from the moment and you look up at him. “But… You didn’t get anything…” You whisper.

“Oh, mo leannan…” He says with a playful smirk on his lips. “I literally just shot come all over your back.” He admits, causing your eyes to widen.

“You…” You say with shock and he immediately laughs at the look on your face. 

“Oh yeah. Why’d you think I said ‘let’s get you cleaned up and dressed’ and not just… ‘let’s get you dressed’?” He teases.

-

After the bath, he helps you both get dressed and takes you back to the living room, snuggling up with you on the couch, wrapping the blanket around you both. 

Unlike with Kyle, who laid under you and let you rest between his legs against your chest - or Simon who you makes you sleep on his chest, with one arm around you - Johnny prefers to spoon you, the two of you fitting just so on the couch before one of you (aka you) are teetering on the edge.

He gives you one of his biceps to rest on, while his other arm wraps around your waist and stomach, his hand resting right on top of your sternum and carefully rubbing your chest. It’s not necessarily a dirty touch, but not an innocent one either.

You find yourselves dozing off, wrapped up in one another, the TV playing some silly action movie which, despite the loud explosions and gunshots, is surprisingly easy to tune out and sleep through.

It’s already dark outside when you stir awake. Johnny’s sleeping right behind you, his breath slow and even, his warm exhales tickling the back of your neck. The sitting room is completely dark, the TV playing some other movie now, lighting everything in a blue-ish light.

Atop the coffee table is a phone, vibrating and buzzing, the screen lit up with a phone call. Still groggy, you grab the phone, assuming it’s your own, and flick the green button to accept the call without looking at the number.

“Uhm, hello?” You greet before you force yourself to suppress a yawn.

“BLOODY FUCKIN’ HELL, I’VE BEEN CALLIN’ FOR AN HOUR!” A gruff, manly voice shouts on the other end. “WHERE ARE YOU?”

The shouts stirred you a bit more awake and made you stiffen. “Excuse me?!” You complain.

“Wait. Who’s this?” A gruff voice asks on the other end.

“I should be asking you, you’re the one calling me and losing your bloody mind shoutin’ at me?” You murmur in confusion, keeping your voice low to not wake up Johnny.

“And I’m asking you, because I know bloody well I called MacTavish and not… whoever you are.” The man you’re speaking with is rude, but his voice is… vaguely familiar.

That’s when your brain fog clears enough to allow you to realize that you just picked up Johnny’s phone, not your own.

“Oh, shite.” You grumble. “Sorry. I heard a phone ringing, I thought it was my phone-” You try to justify yourself.

“Oh, bloody hell, I’m sorry for yellin’ at you.” The man on the other end ends up saying, a bit more politely. “MacTavish’s with you?” He grumbles

“Yeah… He’s asleep…” You reply. “The phone was on Vibration.” You explain. “That’s probably why he didn’t wake up…” You explain.

“No wonder… I’ve called 42 times…” The male voice complains on the other end. “You mind waking him up and putting my damn soldier on the line?” He fails at his attempts at politeness.

And that’s when your brain fog clears even more. ‘My soldier’... The only person who’d call Johnny ‘his’ soldier is his captain.

“John?” You ask him in earnest. The memories of the night you spent with John come flooding back. Not that you ever forgot it, but you’ve been a bit more preocupied.

And that’s when John Price realizes who he’s speaking to as well, likely also remembering the way the dulcet of your voice called out his name while he buried himself inside of you. “Bloody fuckin’ hell…” He murmurs. 

After a brief pause to breathe, he speaks again. “Hi, darling.” He ends up saying.

“Hi, John.” You say softly in return.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

[noctiva]

Gonna be a lil depraved in your inbox~

I just got done buying some new underwear, and man. Toby with a girlfriend who likes the cute stuff, drags him to Victoria's secret so he can help her choose. Thrusting pair after pair into his hands, cooing over how soft the silk and lace is, "ooo do you think this color would look cute?", holding them up to see how they'd fit in that cute v between her tummy and her thighs, making him sweat bullets as he tries so hard to keep it down, be goooooood boy be good!!

Not allowed in the fitting rooms while she tries em on so he's getting selfie after fitting room selfie of all the styles like "hmmmmm I cant decide, which do you think??" And it takes all his willpower to not drool on the screen as he frantically types "both, all, yes, every single one-"

Cute absentminded girlfriend, who gets dressed in the morning in bed next to him. Leaves the pair she wore last night on the sheets next to him like a little present, just for him to fondle that silky cottony softness between his fingers as he ruts himself mindlessly against the mattress. Groaning when he lifts them to his face to get a sniff, press his mouth against the soft material, hips stuttering as he creams a mess into his pants.

Cute girlfriend getting frustrated cuz she JUST bought new pairs and now they're all gone? Weird 🤨🤨

oh this is so based.

toby is THE #1 panty sniffing freak in my brain. he’s just desperate like that LOLLLL. he’s just like, super big on scents. like a sniffer dog. he’s one to take a good hearty inhale before eating you out so yeah he’s DEFINITELY snagging whichever pair of your panties he can get his hands on. (preferably from the hamper. it’s no fun if they’re freshly washed and your scent has been all stripped clean 🙄🙄)

ANYWAY this is WONDERFUL brain food for me. Toby is such a socially awkward boyfailure that quite honestly you’d have to probably drag him into victorias secret with you by the collar of his shirt.

“Am I e-even allowed to go in there?”

“Are you s-sure? You’re 100% sure?”

“I can just w-wait outside y’know, the-there’s a bench right there-“

And once you do actually manage to wrangle him in there he’s a goddamn mess. his brain would like, short circuit. Eyes darting around at all the mannequins, all the expensive lingerie, garments that left barely anything to the imagination. Imagining what they’d look like on you. How fun it would be to peel them off of you.

He would resort to gluing his gaze to the floor, his ears burning red as he shuffles along behind you, already fighting against his own dick LOLLLL

of course though, you wouldn’t make it easy on him. where’s the fun in that!!!!

“Oh, these are cute!” As you hold up a lacy thong for him to see, forcing his gaze upwards. When you hold them up to your body his eyes go wide, and his shoulders tense up. “Imagine? And they’re so soft! Feel!”

He doesn’t really have a choice, so he curls his fingers around the material you all but shove into his hands, letting out a strained hum and a shaky; “Y-Yeah. Cute. Soft.” All while donning the complexion of a tomato.

And the dressing room?? It’s like you’re trying to kill him. You have to know what you’re doing to him, right? Sending him photos of you nearly bare, lit in the sultry lighting that the change room provided. If he had to be honest, he’s barely paying attention to the stuff you’re trying on - swallowing back drool that pools in his mouth as his shaky fingers type back replies that are riddled with typos but no less enthusiastic.

‘so prwtty. you should gt that one’

‘you said that about every single one I’ve showed you.’

‘I kno. get them all.’

And also? Yeah. They aren’t lasting a week in your home until they’re going missing. Toby keeps one pair shoved in his jacket pocket at all times. another, he swiped from you after you got dressed and drooled all over it - so he’s got to wash it first. another, because it was just so silky soft. perfect to stroke his cock with.

(he’s really not slick about it either. you’ll probably find a pair under his pillow on his side of the bed.)

(to which he’ll just go. ‘huh. wonder how that got there.’)

[madssturniolo]

NSFW ABS’s w/Matt

A - AFTERCARE (what are they like after sex?)

He cleans you up and takes a shower with you, washing your hair and lathering soap over you as you lean back onto him. After that, he puts you in one of his shirts and boxers. He doesn’t let you leave his arms after that.

B - BODY PART (their favourite body part of theirs and their partner’s?)

His favorite body part of himself is his hands because he always catches you staring at them. His favorite body part on you is your eyes because of how expressive they are.

C - CUM (anything to do with cum.)

He likes to cum inside of you most. He loves to fill you up and feel your pussy milk his cock dry.

D - DIRTY SECRET (what is a dirty secret of theirs?)

He really likes to role play and wants to do it more. One time, you and him did a little teacher student role play and he thinks about it every time he jerks off.

E - EXPERIENCE (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He already knows quite a bit when he first met you, but he discovers all of his kinks with you by experimenting.

F - FAVOURITE POSITION (self explanatory.)

His personal favorite is you on top of him, riding him. He loves the view it gives him. But he also likes missionary because he likes to look you in the eyes as you crumble under him.

G - GOOFY (are they serious or goofy in the moment?)

He starts off goofy to get you comfortable and then turns serious once you guys get going.

H - HAIR (how well trimmed are they? does the carpet match the drapes?)

He’s well trimmed, but not bald.

I - INTIMACY (how intimate are they in the moment?)

He’s so intimate with you. He’s all about eye contact and hand holding and feeling so deep inside you, you don’t know where you stop and where he begins.

J - JERKING OFF (masturbation.)

He only jerks off when he’s desperate and knows he wont be able to see you for a while. He usually texts you to have phone sex.

K - KINKS (what kinks do they have?)

He is still exploring his kinks with you. But so far from the things you’ve tried, he likes choking (and to be choked), edging (and to be edged), overstimulation, praise, and role play.

L - LOCATION (favourite place(s) to do it?)

His room because he knows its where you both feel most comfortable. But he also likes the shower because you look so pretty.

M - MOTIVATION (what gets them going?)

You in general (he’s always ready for you), but more specifically, biting his lip and pulling his hair.

N - NO (things they are not open to in bed.)

Being too rough with you.

O - ORAL (are they good at it? do they like giving or receiving more?)

Matt is fantastic at oral and its one of his favorite things to do. He can cum without any touch from you and just your pussy in his mouth. He also loves receiving from you because it feels so good to be in your warm, wet mouth. He likes giving more as your taste is his favorite.

P - PACE (fast and rough? or slow and sensual?)

He definitely takes his time with you. But when you’re both about to finish together, his thrusts get rougher and deeper and faster.

Q - QUICKIE (their opinion on quickies and how often you have them.)

He doesn’t prefer quickies but desperate times call for desperate measures.

R - RISK (are they willing to take risks?)

He notoriously says “I’d try anything once” to you. Especially in a sexual sense.

S - STAMINA (how many rounds can they go? how long do they last?)

He usually can last pretty long just so he can stretch out your pleasure. However, a single look from you can send him over the edge. He usually has to bite his knuckle and close his eyes when trying to hold out for you.

T - TOYS (do they own toys? if so, which ones?)

He almost always uses a vibrator along with his dick to get you off many times. He also has fucked you with a dildo a few times. And he really loved that one time you tied him up and edged him with your vibrator.

U - UNFAIR (do they like to tease?)

He loves to tease and edge you for a while. When you’re out and about together, he makes comments to you, getting you wound up for later.

V - VOLUME (how loud are they? do they grunt, moan, whimper, etc?)

Matt loves dirty talk. He’s constantly groaning and moaning in your ear as well. When you edge him, he whines when he starts getting restless.

W - WILD CARD (a random headcannon.)

He loooves the little drunk smile you do after he’s done fucking you senseless. He cant help but kiss you as he feel overwhelmed with adoration.

X - X-RAY (what's going on under their clothes?)

He’s long & skinny.

Y - YEARNING (how high is their sex drive?)

He wants you every second of every day. Every time he looks at you.

Z - ZZZ (how fast do they fall asleep after?)

He tries to wait for you, but almost always falls asleep first after feeling so relaxed after his release.

[sooniebby]

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫

𝗪𝗲𝗲𝗸 𝟯: 𝘃𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗲/𝗲𝗱𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴/𝗯𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗮𝗴𝗲

Bottom trans male reader. Reader’s lower part is called interchangeable: cunt, pussy, clit, folds, heat, hole. No mention of anything feminine. Reader has had top surgery.

“Is… the rope necessary?”

You were dressed in your Halloween costume, a very simple makeshift murder victim. A tired white shirt with fake blood splattered all over it. Jeans that you purposely tore and also splashed some blood on it.

The real “kill wound” in your costume was a fake slit throat that you had. It was starting to feel itchy on your neck after being at this party for over two hours now. The blood on your face had uncomfortably dried up a bit that you just wanted to wash it off.

The guy you were with, inside some random room. You didn’t really know who owned the house. You were just here for free drinks and candy.

He was dressed pretty bland compared to you.

Just a nice dress shirt and dress pants. You wondered why he’d wear something so nice to a college party like this.

His white shirt was unbuttoned now, letting you see his chest a bit better. Which was nice as you were currently being tied up. He wrapped the rope around your chest and shoulders, leaning it down to circle around your hands.

He was slow and methodical, making sure it was tight but not too tight. You were a bit too drunk to complain about him taking too long. Hey, if he needed bondage to get off, so be it!

“W..what are you anyway? Such a boring costume..”

He glanced up at you and smirked. You saw the faintest sight of fangs. Ah, vampire.

Eh, he could’ve done better.

You yawned, getting comfortable on the bed. Wow, this bed was so soft. All that alcohol was making you a bit sleepy. And this bed wasn’t helping you.

With a jolt, you glanced down at the man as you felt himself slap your thigh. He didn’t say anything, just finishing his touches on your bondage. You could still move your legs and if you tried hard enough—you could slip your hands free though it would hurt your wrists to do so.

“Are… you going to speak?” You whisper, watching him move down to your jeans. He glanced up at you and with a smile, turns his attention back to your pants.

You spread your legs open to give him space as he.. quite literally tears your jeans apart?!

You cry out in shock, sobering up a bit at the sound of tearing jeans.

“D..dude?! What the fuck..?”

He paid you no mind as he reached your boxers and also teared that open. Fuck, he was going to ruin your clothes to bits at this point. You squirmed a bit, wondering just what the fuck you were going to do after this with no pants or boxers.

You watched as he leaned close to your legs and began to kiss it. His kisses were wet as he trailed down to your wet heat that was beginning to ache to be kissed itself.

His fangs.. which.. felt real in a way, teased your skin. You grunted, wishing you could just reach down and tangle your hands in his curls but your hands were tied.

“Jeez… those fangs of yours feel.. real, man.”

He stopped for a moment and glanced up. His eyes just staring at you before looking down as he pressed a soft kiss on your inner thigh. You couldn’t help but giggle a bit at the softness.

Why weren’t most one night stands this nice?

You gasp as you felt his kisses on your pussy this time. He was soft—just pressing kisses on your folds while one of his hands teased your clit.

“E…mhm.. ever eat… cat before?” You drunkly joke.

He looked up at you unimpressed. You pout. Hmph, this guy just didn’t know what a good joke was.

His breath was really the only sound you ever heard from him. But you wanted him to talk. So badly but you didn’t know how to get him. You had come up to this room with him because of his teasing on your waist and you thought he’d start flirting with you.

But no, just started binding you.

“Name..?” You muttered, thinking maybe he’d be nice enough to tell you.

But he didn’t. He leaned in and began to lick your pussy, slow and methodically once more. You flinch, your legs accidentally closing on his head. He grunted in discomfort and moved his hands to grab your legs and force them apart.

You couldn’t help but feel a bit happy.

You got him to grunt!

That’s something..

He was sucking and licking your heat with a sense of ownership—eyes staring straight at you as he watched you try to move your hands against the bondage. Your lips were parting constantly as moans left your throat, filling the room.

You couldn’t really help yourself that you began to try and ride his face. He didn’t seem to mind as he allowed you to do so. You whimper and whine, his nose was a bit good to ride on.

Huh, maybe you should stick to sleeping with man with long noses.

The drunk thought leaves your mind when he pulls away. You whine and pout at him, wondering why he’d pull away. His lower face and nose was wet from your slick but he didn’t seem to care at the moment.

He reached down and pulled open his pants, his cock slipping out. You blinked in shock. Holy fuck, that cock was huge.

Maybe.. eight inches?! Jesus, what type of man needs eight inches???

You glance down and watch as he grips his cock and rests it against your cunt. He gently rubbed his cock between your folds, earning a sharp gasp from you.

You were biting your lip in excitement—even if the thought of such a large cock was scary.

But he didn’t slip inside of you.

His cock began to rub against your pussy, getting between your slick folds. He reached down with his free hand and placed it on your hips, gripping it tightly as a way to keep you still.

“W…c’mon… inside~” you whined.

He continued his thrusting against your folds, his cock constantly rubbing against your clit. His grunts began to fill the room, overpowering your moaning.

You felt as if you were being used.. but honestly it made you excited.

You just wished he said something to you.

Praise. Degradation. Something!

Much to your shock, his cock began to cum. He moved his cock between your folds and cummed right near your hole—teasing you with the thought of him pushing his cock inside and just filling you with cum.

He pulled away after a second and reached down, scooping up the cum that was dripping from your pussy and fingering it inside. You began to squirm and twitch, hips thrusting upwards as you cried out.

Finally… something inside!

But then he pulled away.. again!

“F…fuck you! I wanna cum, man!” You grunted, wishing you could just reach down and make yourself cum.

He simply smirked and patted your stomach before pulling away. You watched in shock as he buttoned up his shirt and pants and… left.

He fucking left.

You panicked a bit, wondering what the hell were you supposed to do now?! As you shuffled around the bed, trying to force your hand out of the bondage, the door opened again.

He was back.. with water and a bowl of grapes.

He sits down on the bed and makes you sit up but makes no effort to untie you. You part your lips and gladly accept the water, humming at the cool drink blessing your dried throat.

Huh, you didn’t notice that.

His lips pulled into a smile as you saw you begin to feel comfortable once more. Once the water was finished, he grabbed the bowl of grapes and began to feed them to you.

He was.. taking care of you? Oh, this was nice.

You hummed in delight, starting to feel sleepy again after being mildly taken care of.

“You.. do this with everyone you fuck?”

He didn’t answer. Stupid man. He placed the empty bowl on the night stand and made you lay back down again. Getting between your legs, he pulled down his cock.

You didn’t know if eating and then fucking so quick was smart but eh, you were still a bit too drunk to truly care about that.

He leaned over you, staring over you as a smirk pulled on his lips. Staring at his teeth you began to notice his fangs were a bit too real. It looked as if they came straight from his gums.

“You.. must’ve put most of your money into the fangs, huh?”

He raised an eyebrow, as if in a way telling you that you’re wrong. You gasped at the feeling of his cock pushing inside of your tight heat. His cock was stretching you but you couldn’t help but sigh in relief—happy to fully be fucked.

His thrusts were different from his other one. No longer slow and methodical. He was like a beast, his hips slamming into you as you squirmed and cried. Your cunt tightened around his cock with each thrust.

“S…so good! Fuck.”

You cummed in no time, arching your back as you screamed out. But he didn’t stop, his thrusts were even faster now—forcing you to squirm as your body was being forced to cum again so quickly.

You could’ve sworn you were squirting at this point.

But he hasn’t cummed.

And he wouldn’t cum for a few minutes as your body got tired from the constant and back to back squirting. Your body was limp by now, your pussy lightly clenching at this point. The only sound leaving you was soft little whimpers.

You couldn’t even speak properly now.

He leaned down, pressing kisses on your throat. You hoped he was close soon, your body couldn’t handle another orgasm. His teeth grazed your throat as he moved down right where your shoulder and neck connected.

And he bit.

You screamed out, spasming against his body that held you down to the bed. This wasn’t just a simple bite, his teeth—no fangs, pierced your skin.

“W…h…!”

Any sort of pain you felt was soon pleasurable. You began to softly moan, trying to move your hand but still not able to. He continued to drink.. just like a vampire before pulling away after a few seconds.

His lips were stained with your blood, turning them red in color. A few drops slipped down his chin and his eyes were blood red. He reached down and gently rubbed the spot his bit, giving a bit of comfort for it.

You felt something warm inside of you now… oh, he came. His cock slipped out of you as white cum slowly dripped out of your aching hole. Your breathing was light and soft…

You somehow felt content.

He grinned down at you. His black curly hair was no longer neatly laid like before. You tried to truly look at him now but all you could do was whine about the ropes still bonding you.

He pulled the bondage off and began to rub your wrists, pressing a kiss on the mark it left on your skin. His eyes trailed your body. The only thing you had left was your shirt.

“You…you’re….?”

He smirked.

“B…wh..?”

He hummed and walked over to the closet in the room. He pulled out a long coat from it and wrapped it around your body. Much to your surprise, he picked you up easily.

You whimper but glance up at him, wondering what he was thinking.

“Y…you..? Wh.. a… college..?”

He looked at you thoughtfully as if he was actually thinking why he, a vampire, came to a college Halloween party. But he simply shrugged. He looked close to your age, but perhaps now getting a better look, three to four years older.

Physically at least.. who knew how old he was mentally.

“Wh…ere..?” You mutter, starting to feel so tired. But you weren’t sure why.

“Home.”

Your eyes open in shock as you stared up at him. His voice was nice and velvet. So smooth and deep. You wanted him to keep talking. Please, keep talking.

“Sleep. You were good… so I decided…”

He leaned down a bit to your ears, gently nipping it as you hummed, snuggling a bit in his arms.

“To keep you forever.”

Realistically, that was such a fucking scary thing to say. An immortal being taking you forever.

But.. you were drunk and happily satisfied by sex you knew no one else could possibly give you.

How long was forever anyway…?

Eh, you only meet a sexy vampire once.

You get it? He edged you with his cock and his voice… a true edger… does that make sense? Lol, anyway, hope this was sexy enough cuz he doesn’t talk basically at all! Why he doesn’t talk..? Don’t ask, I just thought it’d be sexy

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @nakedtoasterr @smellwell @tehyunnie @ofclyde @chill-guy-but-cooler @iwishtobeacrow @remdayz @mello-life69 @kiiyoooo @kaedezu @tomoeroi

[wemalyri]

could you do enhypen reaction to ur self harm ?? I loved ur last post

pairing: hyungline!enhypen × gn!reader genre: angst, hurt/comfort warnings: feeling guilty, obv self-harm, brief description of negative feelings and thoughts + personal tw for each member w/c: 640+ a/n: thank you for your request!! sorry that it took me SO long(( (it's been in my drafts since august just so yk :/)e also I did only hyung line I hope you don't mind. I tried to mention and describe different reasons and situations. some members include sad endings and feeling of hopelessness. I know that if you're deep down in this even words of your loved ones might not help. if you have this problem pls remember that you're not alone( take care of yourself properly! also sunghoon one is kinds crazy, sorry for that !!! likes and reposts are welcomed !!!

Heeseung

tw: comparison to others, jealousy, toxic perfectionism

You hadn’t seen each other for a few months. The reason of it was Heeseung’s job. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t stay with you all of the time. Three months of tour felt like eternity. However, it was finally over and now you could see each other again. Heeseung promised you to come over as soon as possible but you didn’t expect him to do it so fast. Forgetting yourself, you ran to the front door and opened it with a bright smile. Heeseung immediately hugged you, holding you tight. His hand held your head, burying your face in his chest. “Gosh I missed you so much…” He inhaled your scent with a loud sound. “You smell like home.”

You playfully giggled and pecked his lips, looking at him. He pulled away to explore your appearance with a smile, but it immediately faded as his gaze fixed on your thighs. “Y/n…” He whispered with fear, not believing his own eyes. 

Upper side of your legs were covered in scars, recent ones. You absolutely forgot to cover them, too excited to meet your boyfriend. 

Yes, Heeseung was perfect for you but that only made your self-esteem worse. You always thought he was too good for you, you never were on the same level. Heeseung wasn’t just an idol, he was a goddamn ‘ace’. Perfect at everything, you never noticed his bad habits, selfish thoughts or actions. He was like an angel fallen from heaven, someone who would never match you. This is what you thought. And when he left on tour you knew he wouldn’t be able to control or see new scars if you left them. Every time you got jealous, you would blame yourself for this feeling, making your mental statement even worse. Negative feelings were too much to handle but you were too embarrassed and ashamed to share them with Heeseung, knowing pretty well that even his sweetest words wouldn’t help you. This is how you found a way to express everything you felt, punishing yourself for not being flawless.

Your eyes looked down, searching for a reason of Heeseung’s worried expression. When you saw your scars, you felt ashamed and guilty. 

“It’s nothing.” you answered, trying to sound casual.

“It doesn’t look like nothing.” Heeseung’s tone of voice was serious. It felt like you had never seen him with such an expression. His eyes met yours and you could see a deep worry and hurt in them. “Why have you done that?..”

You felt guilty. You didn’t want to hurt him with your words but you didn’t want to lie to him at the same time. “I…didn’t feel well.” The reason you named sounded so stupid that a sense of shame washed over you.

Heeseung’s expression didn’t change. It seemed like your words didn’t convince him at all. “You could call me… text me… anything but not that.” 

“I didn’t want to bother you. You have a busy schedule, I don’t want to wear you out even more.” 

“Y/n… It wouldn’t hurt me as much as this.” You went silent for a second, biting your lip.

“I didn’t want to complain to you, okay?” It felt like you didn’t understand each other at all.

“Baby, that’s not complaining when you tell me about your feelings. That’s normal. I’m your boyfriend, you don’t trust me enough to share your thoughts?” You didn’t say anything as tears welled up in your eyes. Heeseung immediately stepped closer, pulling you to him. Your hands wrapped around his waist, holding onto him as the last hope. He pecked your head, whispering. “Tell me when you don’t feel well next time, okay?” You slightly nodded, thinking that maybe it will help you to go through this. At least, you decided to give it a try.

Jay

tw: ED, fatshaming (reader to themselves)

Jay is the best cook you've ever known and everyone always says that they're jealous of your luck. Your boyfriend cooks for you everyday, he never fails to make sure you're eating well even when he's tired. However, for you personally this obsession with good meals never was for the best. Your relationship with your body never was the simplest one and even though Jay and you dated for a while, you managed to hide it from him. However, at the last time something went wrong and your boyfriend started noticing what attitude you actually had to food.

One day you were having a meal at your apartment and of course Jay cooked. Again. Sitting next to your boyfriend, you were picking at food. 

“Is something wrong? You don't like it?” Jay asked, looking at you through his eyelashes with concern. 

“No, everything's fine. Just not hungry.” You managed to say, trying to sound casual. Jay's eyebrows frowned and he pulled chopsticks away. 

“Are you sure? You haven't been eating well lately.” This question suddenly made you annoyed. You didn't want someone to talk about your eating problems, so you tried to change the topic. 

“Just not hungry.” The same words left your mouth and it made Jay confused even more. Something definitely was wrong and he just couldn't understand what exactly. 

“Y/n, I know something is wrong. Don't try to hide it from me.” Jay's tone was serious and it only irritated you even more. 

“I said I was fine!” You striked the table, that made your sleeves of shirt roll up and show off your scars. Jay looked at your wrists and his sight immediately catched those parts of skin you were hiding from him. Fresh scars were relieved for his eyes, blooming on your hands. 

“Y/n, your hands…” Jay spoke quietly in disbelief. Your eyes immediately widened in realization. He saw them.

You rolled down your sleeves, hiding marks of the hatred to your body, eyes looking down.

“How long ago did you make it?” Jay asked seriously, clenching his fists. He didn't hear an answer from you. “Why?..” For a minute that you were staying silent, a lot of different thoughts ran through his head. Weren’t you happy with him? Was he a bad boyfriend? Why did you hide it?

“Jay, it's not your fault.” His flaw of thoughts was ruined by your quiet voice. “It's just… me.”

He absolutely didn't understand. His eyes looked into yours with desire for more explanation. He was begging you to talk about it. 

“I-I don't like myself. My body. And I feel even worse every time you try to feed me. I'm fat. I can't let myself eat that much.”

Of course, he was so stupid all of this time. You had always been eating purely. Once he even noticed you judgingly looking at yourself in the mirror. And he did nothing.

“Gosh, I'm so stupid…” Jay hid his face in his hands, rubbing the forehead, trying not to bunch his head against the table. 

“No, you're not. I never talked about it. You were just being a good caring boyfriend.” You saw how awful he felt and it made you feel guilty. 

He quickly stood up from his place and you could see his watered eyes, when he slipped his hands away from his face. He approached you, gently pulling your wrist to the side to examine you. “Did you hurt yourself anywhere else? Are there any more scars?” 

“No, Jay.” You settled him down with your voice but he didn’t seem to believe you. “Really. That’s all.”

Jay slightly sighed, closing his eyes. “Listen, I’m sorry.” You stood up and placed your hand on his shoulder, feeling even more guilty. 

“You shouldn’t apologize to me. You should apologize to yourself.” Jay looked mad but this expression on his face was actually hiding his concern. He looked at you and was met with your sad puppy eyes that made him want to hug you. His hands pulled you to him and he pressed his lips to your head. 

“I know…” You mumbled into his chest. “I just can't. I don't want to.”

“Baby… do you hate yourself that much?” Jay asked looking into your eyes when he lifted your chin up. Your eyes watered, giving him a clear answer. “I'm sorry…” He whispered. “I'll make sure you'll love yourself.”

You slightly shook your head in resistance but didn't say anything, ran out of energy. Jay patted your head, kissing your forehead, and while looking into his eyes full of love you thought that maybe he will keep his words. 

Jake

tw: reader can’t express their feelings, bad experience in sharing problems

Jake always was clingy towards you but it never was the problem. His hands almost always were wrapped around you, no matter if you were in public or not, you would feel his touch on your back or shoulder.

One day you had a movie-night and Jake was clinging onto you as usual. Wrapping hands around you, laying his head on your thighs, caressing your skin, he almost touched your recent scars that were covering your shoulder. Everytime Jake moved or shivered you would slightly flinch, avoiding contact between his hands and your scars under the shirt. 

Suddenly, your boyfriend pulled away from your thighs, holding onto your shoulder and you immediately gasped. “Ouch!”

Jake looked at you with worried eyes, pulling his hand away and holding it in the air. “Sorry! Did I grip too hard?”

You sighed, looking at him. “Yeah, a bit harsh. But it's okay.” Jake's gaze switched to your shoulder, covered with a shirt. He slightly pulled your sleeve up. “I'm sorry… There might be a bruise now. Let me look.” You immediately flinched from him. He didn't have to know about your scars. 

“No, it's okay.” Jake's eyes switched to your face with worry. 

“Baby, I'll just look…” He gently placed his hand on yours and you looked away, giving up. You knew he wouldn't leave you alone. Insisting would only cause more questions. 

Jake's fingers slowly pulled your sleeve up and his eyes widened. “Baby… what is that?..” Now he could see your recent scars that were blooming on your skin. 

There wasn't a certain reason why you did that. Sometimes negative feelings were too much to cope with and you, the person who had never been learnt how to take care of yourself and let your emotions out, would express everything, hurting yourself. You knew it was wrong but the thought of sharing your feelings with someone was too strange. Of course, you had tried. But it always ended the same. People would say you complain a lot and you would shut up, regretting letting out true feelings. But this time it was Jake. Jake who was your boyfriend, Jake who would never let himself hurt you. 

Your eyes watered with a feeling of despair but you didn't dare to meet his gaze. Awkward silence took the air away, not letting to breathe. However, tension in the room suddenly disappeared with Jake's gentle voice. “Hey…” His fingers tilted your chin up. Jake’s worried eyes met watered yours. “Where are they from?..” 

He looked so genuinely concerned that you couldn’t confess you were the one who did that with yourself. You bit your bottom lip, holding tears that started welling up in your eyes. There was no response. Jake started realising what your silent answer meant and his world faded away.

“It wasn’t you, right?..” he whispered, scared of his own words “You wouldn’t do that to yourself?…” Silence was making Jake go insane and he called you by your name. 

“Y/n?..” his hands held your, slightly squeezing them “Please, say something. I won;t judge you, I swear.”

You looked in the corner of the room quietly saying only a few words “That was me.”

Jake’s jaw clenched but he managed to ask “Why?..”

“I don’t know… I wasn’t… feeling well…” your voice was slightly shaky. Jake leaned close to you, making sure you could see everything in his eyes. 

“You have me. You can always share with me, you know that, right?” 

“I don’t want to complain to you. You don’t know what you’re signing up for.” you warned him, recalling your past experiences. 

“I don’t care. I want to make sure I’m doing the best I can to make you happy.” Jake saw your slight smile and leaned even closer to peck your lips before wrapping hands around you and whispering in your ear “Can you do that for me? Next time you feel bad… Tell me, scream at me, yell at me. As much as you need until you get rid of wanting to hurt yourself.” 

You caressed his hair pulling him closer and whispering “I love you, Jake.”He smiled, replying with the same soft words “I love you too.”

Sunghoon 

tw: self-harm in details, blood, low self-esteem, anxiety, jealousy, reader has REAL mental problems… (this one is crazy fr)

You knew Sunghoon pretty well as much as the fact that he only seemed to be cold. When you first met him, you thought he hated you for something or just didn’t like you, but after a while you found out you were wrong. Because of his cold appearance it’s hard to say what he’s feeling or thinking about. Still, you’ve loved him the way he is. However, your anxiety and self-esteem suffered the most in your relationship. Not because Sunghoon was too cold, but because you were afraid of doing or saying something wrong. Mental problems and fears took control of you and sometimes it led to hurting yourself. 

Sunghoon went out with friends. You were absolutely fine with that until it started being late and stars covered the dark sky. Sunghoon didn’t answer your calls, didn’t reply to your messages and you started worrying too much. Was he with other girls? Did he lie to you about his feelings? 

Minutes with these thoughts and attempts to call him again and you already found yourself in the bathroom with a blade in your hands. Fear of losing Sunghoon and hatred to yourself led you towards irrecoverable actions.

Consumed by your feelings, you didn’t notice the sound of unlocking door and footsteps of your boyfriend. He was surprised by not seeing you greeting him in the hallway and suggested you were sleeping. As Sunghoon carefully headed towards the bathroom he stood still in the doorframe, seeing you with bloody hands sitting on the cold tile. His eyes widened in fear and he ran to you, holding your shoulders and turning you to him.

“Y/n! Are you here? Do you hear me?” he enquired with fear slightly shaking you. 

Your eyes shoot opened “Hoon? What are you doing here?” 

“What do you mean? I came home as usual. What’s happened?..” he looked over you with worried eyes “We need to take you to the hospital.” 

Sunghoon started lifting you up but you stopped him lightly tapping his shoulder. 

“No… It’s okay…” You weakly smiled, tears on your cheeks becoming dry.

“It’s not okay. Your wrists are literally bleeding…” You could tell he was trying his hardest to stay calm but hysterical notes in his voice were telling the opposite. Sunghoon laid you on the bed and called the ambulance with shaky hands.When the call ended the room went silent. 

“We need to stop your… blood first” He hurried to the bathroom for some bandage to negligently stop your blood. Fortunately, cuts weren’t deep.

“I thought you wouldn’t come…” you mumbled watching Sunghoon treating your wounds.

Sunghoon looked at you with confusion “Why did you do that?.. I don’t understand…” His voice was quiet, your heart breaking into million pieces. 

“I’m sorry…” you whispered reaching for his cheek. “I thought… I thought you lied to me. You weren’t answering my texts and calls…” Your thumb slowly caressed his skin, wiping away a lonely tear that escaped from his watering eyes. Sunghoon gently took another hand of yours in his, rubbing the knuckles.

“My phone was discharged…” 

Oh. That was so stupid of you. How could you overreact so much?..

“Oh… I didn’t think about that…” The room went silent again. 

“Y/n, please… I’m begging you. Never do that again. Okay?..” Sunghoon’s pleading voice broke the silence. You hesitated before slowly nodding. “I don’t want to lose you like that.”

Your eyes watered, you started realising your mistake and what you did, what could happen. “I’m sorry, Hoon… I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The room was suddenly filled with a syren of the ambulance that flew from the opened window.

[trendywaifus]

Can you do Trigger x G/N Reader with the prompt “Don’t leave me like that again, you scared me?” Let’s say as her sniper partner one day you get injured. They almost didn’t survive and in the hospital this plays out along with her feelings revealed.

3 days before i close requests! (😿)

hearing the occasional and steady beats of your heart rate through the continuous pulse ox machine was almost haunting as she sits next to your bed. it’s only been two consecutive weeks of charon visiting you and yet, she’s barely getting comfortable with the hospital environment due to her past trauma. her foot tap against the pristine floor in a nervous manner, hands clasp together tightly in her lap. her visor blinks between a light blue and red.

she’s slowly getting overstimulated but she wants to be there for you. her old wounds doesn’t share the same weight as the wounds you’ve been fighting through for the past two weeks. two gunshots: one in the abdomen, hitting a vital organ and the second one, your right lung. you’ve blinking in and out of consciousness for a while, barely able to mumble a word out because of the strong dosage of iv pain meds.

a distressed sigh leaves charon. she looks over to your general direction. your aura is calm, not irregular as it once was on her first hospital stay after you had a long emergency surgery.

“ mm. . “

her ears instantly perk up at the weak sound of you groaning, following along with rustling of sheets. charon jumps up from her seat and rush to the bedside.

“ (n-name)? “ she calls out feebly, uncertainty clear in her hushed voice.

“ ch. .charon? “ you muttered out, exhausted eyes fixated on your comrade leaning over you against the bed rail. charon breaks out into a soft, shaky smile, her visor blinks into different colors like a rainbow.

“ you’re able to say my name this time. .how are you feeling right now? “ she asks gently, extending her hand to find yours to grasp. it takes her a second before she does and her chest pangs with hurt as she comes in contact with it. skin albeit warm, your hand stills feels so weak in her own.

“ like . .i’m on. .il-llegal drugs. . “

charon laughs, softly squeezing your hand. “ as to be expected after being asleep for quite some time, huh? “

“ how. . long. .hav. e. . you. .been h-here? “ you asked, slurring your words. “

“ for an hour. i made it here after completing my mission. “

“ i. . see. “

prolonged silence washes over the atmosphere. charon’s thumb massages your knuckles tenderly while she lets the refreshing feeling of relief kick in.

the color turns orange.

“ don’t leave me like that again. you scared me. .” charon confesses, lips curling downwards into a frown. when she heard the news that you were fatally shot during a sniper mission, she almost panicked in front of soldier 11 while they were giving post-mission report to the higher ups.

“ was. .just. .a stupid m-mistake. y’know how it goes, girlie. “ your speech is starting to sound normal again.

“ a. .mistake that could of cost you your life. please don’t make it sound like it’s a casual thing. in the field we’re in, every life is precious even if we put our lives on the line everyday. “

your fingers curl slightly around her hand. she reciprocates the gesture back more firmly.

“ you’re right. i’m sorry. i don’t w-want to worry you and the others every again—“

“ i have feelings for you. “

“ h-huh? “

gathering herself quickly, charon breathes in a sharp breath and exhales deeply.

her visor’s color blinks between red and pink.

“ i have feelings for you, (name), “ she repeats again, “ i know that it’s sudden to admit—but i. .i don’t want to repeat my mistake of not telling those i care about how I feel. although every life is precious, it can easily be lost. it’s been proven to me 11 years ago, nearly every mission since then, and almost now. “ the pitch of her voice cracks and you wish you can give her a warm, drawn-out hug.

“ oh, charon. . “ weakly, you guide her hand up to your cheek. her breath hitches as her palm feels the tender skin. charon’s silent while her fingertips start to explore the contours of your face. her thumb lingers at the curled crevice of your chapped lips.

“ i accept your feelings and your worries. come down. ”

and she does with a shy smile. your aura feels soothing around her, relaxing her woes bit by bit.

charon awkwardly bends over closer to your face and not a moment later, she feels your lips peck her cheek. a surprised hum erupts in her throat and she straightens her posture, cheeks a soft pink.

“ that’s all i got for now but after i get better, how about a date? “ you smiled, knowing that she can’t see it. she can still hear the smile in your voice.

“ y-yeah. . .let’s do it at my place. i’ll cook. “ charon proposes happily, visor turning a bright yellow.

[targaryenluvs]

MAKE YOU STAY / EDDIE DIAZ

PAIRING: Dark!Eddie Diaz x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Your attempt to leave Eddie won’t work, because he won’t let them, or you.

WARNINGS: Obsession, guilt trip, jealousy, possessiveness, sexual content, manipulation gaslighting & entrapment.

WORDCOUNT: 2.3K Words

A/N: Happy season 7 launch!! I got inspired slightly by @megalony and her new Dark Evan series go check it out!!

Gif not mine, credits to the owner!

Life with Eddie use to be everything you could ever dream of. Whether it be slow mornings getting ready together, sharing a shower and helping Chris get ready. Or an absolute hurricane ripping through your home whilst the three of you stumble over each other to get ready after a sleep in.

No matter the time of day, you loved whatever you were doing, as long as they were by your side.

And Eddie’s protectiveness use to be just another aspect of your relationship you loved, until you opened your eyes.

It use to be small, his anger.

An incessant colleague reaching out for tips and aid in a new project, you being a senior member meaning it wasn’t uncommon for people to reach out to you. You were one of the best workers at the company, well respected and loved as well as brilliant. And always willing to help someone in need.

He use to love that about you. Until it followed you home.

Chris was currently at a friends house, leaving the two of you to an inside date night, “Now on what planet would I ever sit and watch four movies with the title ‘Die Hard’. You sure as hell can’t die that many times.” Eddie shook his head as you refilled each of your respective glasses.

“Sure you can, just ask Chimney.” You gasped before swatting Eddies arm, “Be nice! And put on our show.” The murmuring voices of your favourite characters was more than enough to lull you into his arms, content washing over you. Your ringing phone however, was ready to disturb the peace Eddie had longed for all day.

“Let me just grab this.” His hand scooped your phone up before you could, “Just get it later.” His dismissive tone made you frown, “Give me my phone, please.” You leaned over to snatch it, walking into the hallway. Eddie couldn’t help but massage his temple, did you seriously chose a phone call over peace and quiet in his arms?

He hadn’t noticed how often you picked up your phone, until it interrupted him. It happened often. When the two of you were cooking together, soft music and ambience long forgotten. Almost falling asleep, cuddling, and out of the blue the world was falling apart without you. Eddie thought he could handle it, you were needed, that wasn’t your fault, right? But what he also couldn’t handle was the secretive nature.

Why did you always walk away? Were you hiding something?

And now you were coming home later, clanging into the house at 11, or 12. Sometimes even later. “Where were you?” Eddie stood by the door as you hung your jacket, “Jesus, you scared me E.” His arms were crossed, shoulders tense as you made your way to him, a smile too wide for his liking. “Work ran late, m’ sorry.” As you walked away, his hand caught onto your wrist.

“Ow, let go.” Eddies grip loosened as you retracted your arm, soothing it, “What is your problem?” You looked up to view a sweet smile, “Nothing, just worried about you. When you didn’t call, I got so scared. This world, it’s scary Y/n, you know that, especially during these times.”

Your eyes watered involuntarily at his saddened demeanour, “Oh Eddie, I’m so sorry, I should’ve called. That’s my fault, forgive me?” Your arms came around his neck, before trailing down to his chest, playing with his name tag. “I forgive you, I can also think of a way you can make it up to me.”

His smile was mischievous, and intentions impure. “Oh? And what would that be Mr Diaz?” His hand was heavy on your back and slithering lower by the second, “I think we have an appointment with a bed tonight.”

“I have work tomorrow, so do you.”

“Cmon, for me?” His eyes were pure evil, and you were more than happy to give in, even if you were tired. Really damn tired, but he wanted you, so you should give in right? You did give him a fright. “Take me away Diaz.”

If you’d noticed the signs earlier, maybe you could’ve gotten away. His jealousy, when it did rear its head, was an ugly shade of green.

A late night, again.

Eddie had been by the door for 10, sitting for 20, pacing the kitchen and stress-eating for another 10 before he finally settled into bed. Wide awake of course. The opening of his bedroom door caused him to stir. He watched as you slowly moved around, placing your stuff away, putting your phone on charge and then changing.

He sat upright as you yelped, “Eddie! You scared me, again! Why are you sitting in the dark?” His face was drained of warmth, skin cold to the touch. “Was waiting for you, again.” You frowned at his words, “Baby, you know I’m late these days. Better for you to go to sleep than wait up.” He shook his head, burying his head into your stomach as his body relaxed. Your hands raked through his hair gently, “I think you should consider working from home.”

Your hands stopped in their tracks, working from home? The last time you worked from home was during lockdown, and you’d driven yourself half mad. “Why is that?” Eddie glanced up at you, “You’re barely home, Chris misses you, I miss you. Don’t you want to be with us?” You took a deep breath in before smiling, “Of course I do. I- I’ll see what I can do baby.”

His hands quickly dragged you into bed, “Knew you’d understand amor.” Eddie rested his head in the crook of your neck, his hands slowly making their way underneath your shirt.

“Sweetie, I’m tried.”

“I missed you.” You relented, letting him continue. It seemed to be all you were doing these days, bending backwards and over to please him, literally.

The first time you noticed his behaviour was also when you realised you needed space. Not that he’d give it to you. A new coworker, Harry, had invited not only yourself, but your friend Aleya and Jack out to lunch.

He was a nice guy, very eager to learn and never scared by a little constructive criticism. The only problem was probably his overbearing cologne, very pungent? Intense?

You’d also been driven to work that day, courtesy of your boyfriend. You were working shorter days now, completing about an hour or two of work at home now. It had taken some adjusting, after a few forgetful days and about a million texts from Carla with an impatient Chris at home waiting for you.

You spotted Eddies truck pull up as you wrapped up your conversation with the your three lunch goers, “And that’s me, I’ll see you guys on Monday. Thank you so much for lunch!” You reached out to Aleya for a side hug, the same for Jack and a normal hug for Harry. “Tell Eddie there’ll be a fire at my house later tonight, and he better bring Evan!” Jack joked as you waved him off.

Jack may or may not have a huge crush on Evan.

You hopped in, quickly chucking your purse and files into the back seat before kissing Eddie on the cheek. “Hi! How was Chris’s school?” Eddie shrugged his shoulders, “Fine.” Your eyebrows furrowed at his shortness, “Something wrong?” He turned onto the highway, knuckles tightly gripping the wheel, “You smell like him.”

“Like who? Harry?”

“That his name?”

You rolled your eyes, “No, it’s actually his father’s, middle name Jesus. Care for some wine Eddie?” Not once, had Eddie ever been physical. But raising his voice? Oh that was fair game.

“You think you’re funny huh? Having lunch with other guys and taking the piss outta me?”

“Nothing happened baby, it was lunch. He’s new and trying to fit in and I’m being nice. There’s nothing to worry about I swear.” The silence permeated in the truck, causing the hair on your arms to raise. You hated the silent treatment wholeheartedly.

“Whatever.”

His change in demeanour could flip like a switch, you always assumed it was him putting up a front. But when Eddie showed up the next day, flowers in hand and looking his sharpest, you were forced to reevaluate. “God I wish my boyfriend was that sweet.” Your project partner whispered as you sighed, “That’s Eddie.”

Even your boss wanted you to go with him, “Take the day off sweetie, you deserve it.” And with a pat on the back and a million swooning interns drooling over Eddie, you were sent on your way.

“I got these for you Y/n/n.” Your favourite flowers, arranged perfectly and smelling divine. Your hands wrapped around the bouquet, “Thank you Eddie, they’re perfect.” His smile caused your heart to race, he looked amazing. The Eddie with you that day was incredible.

His infectious laughter, perfect smile and the sweet nothings he whispered into your ear. That, was the Eddie Diaz you knew and loved. A gentleman, who had eyes for only you. Which is why you couldn’t help but wonder, what made him change? How was it possible to go from absolutely furious and unnecessarily jealous to an angel?

You didn’t want to know, and you didn’t want to stay around long enough to find out.

Maybe it was the date, or the fact that you felt as if he deserved an explanation face to face. Either way, if you’d known better, you would have made it away.

“Eddie, we have to talk.” The two of you were currently sitting on the couch, favourite show playing in the background. Eddie hummed along, a slight acknowledgment to your words. “It’s, about us.” Eddie turned the volume down, your sentence piquing his interest.

“What’s wrong?”

“I think, we should break up.”

And with six words, Eddies entire world came crashing down in front of him. What on earth were you talking about? “What did you say?” The smile on Eddies face was anything but sweet or reassuring, a bad attempt at keeping his composure. “You’ve been acting, odd, to say the least.” You stood from the couch as he followed in pursuit, all the way to the kitchen.

“I feel like, all that we’re doing lately is either fighting or sleeping. Every time I come home, you have something to say. Whether it’s about my later nights, about who I was with or what I’m doing on the phone. It’s like I have no privacy at all. I cannot keep a single thing to myself. And if I try to? You blow up at me. I mean last week for example, I tried my hardest to not argue with you by walking away. And all you did was follow me around the house, it drove me crazy. Showing up to my workspace when I tell you I can get more done without random lunch dates. I’m a grown adult but you treat me like a child. And if I stand up for myself I’m cheating. It makes no sense at all Eddie. And I tried to make it work, but I feel like you’re controlling me. I even reduced my hours, because you asked. I moved in even when I wasn’t ready, because you asked. I need a break.” You took a deep breath after your monologue, needing a second.

Turning towards Eddie, he stared straight at you. “I had no idea you felt that way baby. I’m so sorry, I never meant to do any of it. I love you so much, I can’t help but worry. After everything we’ve been through with Shannon,” And there it was, the guilt. It was blinding, clawing its way through you. Shannon. He’d already lost someone he loved, and Chris lost his mother. No wonder he was always to protective over you.

“Hey, I’m not leaving like Shannon okay? What happened was a tragic accident, and I promise nothing like that is going to happen again Eddie.” You immediately engulfed in a hug, his head resting against yours, “I don’t want to loose you, I don’t want Chris to loose you.” Eddie muttered repeatedly as you closed your eyes.

Chris walked into the room, thirsty, tired and curious, “Is something wrong?” You immediately detached yourself from Eddie, wiping away your tears, “Nothings wrong sweetie, did you need something?” He nodded before turning around and walking to his room, “We’ll talk later yeah?” Eddie whispered into your ear before moving ahead.

Sniffles came from underneath Christopher’s blanket, “You alright buddy?” Eddie asked, patting his hair down, “Water.” You watched as Eddie swiftly made his way to the kitchen whilst you sat down, “You need anything else?” Chris’s hand slowly lowered the blanket before smiling your way, “No thanks mum.”

And as quickly as he spoke, he turned over to sleep again. Your eyes were probably protruding out of your head, shock filling your senses. “Mum?” The word sounded foreign on your lips, but apparently comfortable enough on Chris’s.

“He called you mum.” Eddies voice was low, most likely as astounded as you based on the look on his face. You got up slowly, aware of the sleeping boy. You couldn’t help but smile, and kiss his forehead before making your way to Eddie. “I can’t believe it.” Eddies hand came up to wipe away the stray tears before pulling you in and kissing your forehead, “I can.”

“You’re apart of this family baby, always have been.” His words seeped in as he guided you to your bed, whilst you were stuck on autopilot. Chris viewed you as a parent to him, that’s how common you were in his life now, a constant for him to fall back on. He loved you, almost as much as you loved him. Your words weren’t forgotten just swirling in your head, how the hell could you ask for a break now? With this new huge responsibility?

Eddie knew, of course he knew. He was the one encouraging Chris to call you by your new name. Because if there’s one thing Eddie knew he needed, besides Chris?

It’s you, and he’d do anything to make you stay.