#things are so much easier now to read the actual words these men are saying

[min-kit]

Okie seeing this take on here but did Lou in any way confirm that bucktommy is a stepping stone to buddie??

No, I don't have the links to anything he's said, but he's been playing nice about buddie cuz ppl have ofc asked him about them (in the way that "hey is bucktommy a stepping stone for buddie" type way), but he's also kinda gently pressed to give bucktommy a chance. Which only makes sense! Like he's an actor, and 911 is one of the most popular scripted series on television right now. He wants to stick around! (I want him to stick around coughs)

People (certain shippers) just like to say everyone has said bucktommy is a stepping stone for buddie when no one has said that at all, and Tim has in fact said that buddie is not in the works right now. Oliver has said that he doesn't even know if he wants buddie to happen, but that he'd be open to the possibility of it should they decide to take the story in that direction (but has also said he doesn't want to tell the story of a man discovering he is bisexual and automatically be seen as having feelings for his male friends).

But people take all of these other things of them going "I could see this [about buddie]" and taking it as a confirmation of things to come for Buck & Eddie when... that's not what they're saying at all.

I've decided not to worry about it & enjoy the ride Tim is going to take us on & considering he keeps calling BuckTommy a "love story" and a "rom-com", well.....

[discordantwritings]

Our Precious Assistant (Cross Guild x Reader)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 4.5

Warnings: 18+ NO MINORS. gn afab reader, exhibitionism, slight voyeurism, dom/ sub dynamics, dom! Mihawk, dom! Crocodile, sub! Buggy, sub! Reader, oral sex, facefucking, PiV sex, spit roasting, creampie, aftercare is important guys, Mihawk and Crocodile are mean to Buggy but in a consensual way, not beta read

Word count: 5.7k

Summary: You’re the assistant to the leaders of The Cross Guild, and after one night of overhearing them having sexual relations, you can’t help but notice their affections towards each other, and eventually… you?

Note: the cross guild can use me any day

Being the executive assistant to three of the most dangerous men in the world was terrifying.

At first.

But after one year of working with them, you’ve grown desensitized to their presence. You see them at their best and their worst. And working for them you see a lot of worsts.

Sir Crocodile is the one you interact the most with since he deals with most of the money and bounties. He works hard and barely rests, which leads him to a short temper. At first every time he glared at you you were sure his hook was about to take you out but now you know when that happens he just needs a nap. You’ve managed to mitigate a lot of employee deaths by planning his appointments around when you know his mood will be bad. And even over time you’ve learned that if you stand firm with him, he respects you more. Never in a million years did you expect that a former warlord of the sea would appreciate you draping a blanket over him when he falls asleep at his desk. You often have to stop yourself from thinking about how peaceful he looks when he actually manages to sleep.

Dracule Mihawk was easier to work with than Sir Crocodile, demanding less of you on a daily basis, but that’s not to say it’s been easy. Being a solitary man he doesn’t interact well with anyone under him (or over him for that matter) so you’re often left to smooth over meetings and negotiations. You don’t talk with him often but when you do he is always polite, if a bit short. Nothing gets past him and it’s worked out in your favor more times than not. He recognizes your work and once when he caught you sneaking a peak at his library he let you borrow the book you were after. When you tried to return it once you were done he told you to keep it. The book sits on your nightstand and helps you remember on the hard days why you stick with the job.

And Buggy?

Well. He’s Buggy. You’ve had the best and the worst times with him. It became clear after only a few months of working with The Cross Guild that Buggy wasn’t actually the one in charge. Between the way Mihawk and Crocodile treated him and how incredibly incompetent he could be led you to put the pieces together on the real power structure. Now that isn’t to say Buggy was a failure all time, quite the opposite actually. Despite how under qualified he was he pulled off the showmanship of the roll quite well and out of all of the leaders he was far and away the best with people. While you didn’t interact with him as much as you did Sir Crocodile he often went out of his way to be around you. He gets bored easily and it often falls on you when there aren’t any of his crew members in the immediate vicinity. As much as it derails your work you find yourself glad for the company. You think it’s because you do actually respect him and sometimes in The Cross Guild that’s hard to come by.

It wasn’t until recently a few things about the relationship between the leaders of the guild clicked for you. You knew the had extended meetings behind doors and on more than a few occasions you’d seen Mihawk or Crocodile laying into Buggy but it wasn’t until you had to come back to the office late one night when it all became crystal clear how their dynamic worked.

You had forgotten some paperwork that you needed to work on so you slipped back into the office after dark when you thought everyone else had gone home. When you got to your desk however, the door to Sir Crocodile’s office was cracked and light spilled out. It wasn’t strange, you knew he pushed himself to work late hours. Normally you encourage him to cut it short so you made your way over to the door and where about to knock when-

“Croc- Please-“ Buggy’s voice was pained and you almost rush in to defend him but a loud moan stops you dead in your tracks.

“I don’t think you’re sorry enough clown.” Crocodile’s voice is sharp and clearly pissed, but there’s an edge to it that you’ve never heard. You almost manage to back away from the door when a third voice speaks up.

“You’re right Crocodile, he really should be apologizing better. He certainly could be putting his mouth to better use.” Mihawk sounds almost bored, but the filth that left his mouth made your blood run hot.

“I’ll do anything- you know I will!” Buggy pleads.

Crocodile chuckles. “Oh, we know you will. You’re always so eager to get on your knees for us, aren’t you.”

The sounds of a zipper being pulled jolt through you and that’s enough to get you to run out of the office as quietly as you can. You pray to whatever gods are above that they didn’t hear you because no matter how fond of you they were- this was too much for anyone to know.

Ever since then you’ve noticed things. Face paint on Crocodile’s collar, stolen glances between Mihawk and Crocodile, or Buggy actually blushing when Crocodile threatened to knock his head off. It felt crazy to know that your bosses were in some kind of polyamorous relationship but no matter how much you want to tell anyone you didn’t. Not even for fear of your job- it was just what you felt was right. But you had to admit thoughts about what the three of them do together creeped into your mind often. It was embarrassing but some nights you got off to imagining what it would be like to be a part of something like that.

Well not something like that. Exactly that. Those three powerful men that you’ve grown fond of. But it was a pipe dream. You kept those thoughts in the darkest recesses of your mind where not even Mihawk’s observation haki could detect them.

But then things kept happening.

It started off easy to ignore. You would see Buggy blushing as you walked into Crocodile or Mihawk’s office, or Mihawk pulling away from Crocodile’s desk quickly as you passed by the door. But when you walked into Mihawk’s office and saw Buggy on his lap there wasn’t much you could do but quickly throw his requested papers on his desk and hurry away, face flushed.

After that it was noticing Buggy’s shoes under Crocodile’s desk when he called you in for a report. Then being asked to stay late and catching Crocodile and Mihawk share a kiss through a wide open door.

You wouldn’t acknowledge the incidents, and they didn’t either, so you were left flustered and confused almost every day. As if seeing them together wasn’t bad enough- it got worse.

Attention started to be directed towards you. You didn’t notice at first, Buggy’s clinging attitude was nothing new and you almost thought nothing of it when he was more touchy than normal. Then Mihawk invited you to stay after work to have a drink with him. You refused- but almost immediately were faced with Crocodile asking you to help him in his office with some more paperwork. Working close at his desk together shouldn’t have been as intimate as it was but you could see him stealing glances at you throughout the night.

Then came the pet names.

Buggy waltzing around your desk calling you star, dear, angel, and any other cheesy ones he could pull out. You hate how much you reacted to them, doing your best to act annoying and praying that he never saw the blush creeping up your neck. Mihawk and Crocodile were more subtle though. Mihawk tagging on darlings at the ends of his requests, Crocodile calling you sweetheart after you deliver paperwork to him. It was almost too much to take on a daily basis, sending you home flustered and now occasionally sexually frustrated.

But you never allowed yourself to think that any of them, let alone all three of them, would want something with you. You knew for a fact they were all in a relationship of some sorts and maybe this was their fun- being cruel to the person they all had easy access to. But you couldn’t stop your heart from soaring at every pet name and every touch or glance they would throw your way. You’d think about quitting- but you couldn’t leave them. As much as you hate it you care about the three of them too much.

But that might all stop today. Earlier in the day Crocodile approached you and said he needed you to stay after for a meeting and your blood ran cold. This was it. You’re getting fired.

You spent all day anxious, subtly packing up your belongings in preparation for the worst. When the time rolled around you knocked on the large door to Sir Crocodile’s office.

“Come in.” His gruff voice answered, and you slowly opened the door to reveal all three leaders of The Cross Guild. Crocodile behind his desk, Mihawk at one of the chairs across from him, and Buggy stationed on a couch along one of the far walls.

You weren’t being fired. You were being killed.

Your fear was clear to all three of them and Mihawk cast an annoyed glance at Crocodile. “I told you this was not a good idea.”

Crocodile rolled his eyes. “And what did you propose? Keep doing Buggy’s plan?”

“Hey!” Buggy sat up on the couch, offended. “I thought we could be a lot more flashy!”

Glares from both Mihawk and Crocodile made him sink back into the couch without another word. Mihawk looks back to you and gestures for you to sit down in the other chair at Crocodile’s desk. Scared and a bit confused you quickly sit.

“I’m sorry.” You speak up, trying to be ahead of this whole thing. “I should have been more careful with your privacy and it’s my fault and I understand why you want to let me go.”

Crocodile, Mihawk, and Buggy all share confused looks before Buggy breaks out in a laugh.

“You’re not being fired.” Crocodile speaks up, leaning over his desk. “And you haven’t been mishandling our privacy.”

“Except on that first night.” Buggy chimes in from the couch. “Not that that was a bad thing!”

Your eyes dart between all three of them, now properly confused. “I don’t understand…”

Mihawk sighs. “We noticed when you accidentally overheard us in this office.”

Of course. You were stupid to think they didn’t.

“But after that and some discussion we thought you might be interested.” Mihawk says it so casually you almost don’t register the words. They thought what?

“It was Buggy’s idea to get bold with our affections to see if you were interested as well but like most of the clown’s plans it was clearly poorly thought out.” Crocodile speaks from behind the desk, filing in the gaps.

“Honestly I think it was just an excuse to be the little exhibitionist he is.” Mihawk comments with glance towards Buggy.

“Hey, hey, maybe there was some self fulfillment there but! You all liked it and we clearly saw they liked us too. Didn’t ya dear?” Buggy leans on the couch to smile and wave at you and it’s only about now where everything is finally sinking in.

“Oh.” You’re sure your entire body is blushing, all the anxious energy now turning into something different.

“So we are sorry if this has all been too convoluted for you. I thought we should make a formal request.” Crocodile gets up from his desk and walks around it, towering over your seat. “Would you think about being a part of our relationship?”

“If you don’t we will forget this ever happened and there will be no more sexual run ins with any of us.” Mihawk adds as he too gets closer, his hand on the arm of your chair.

“And of course, take your time.” Crocodile mentions from above, taking a long drag of his cigar.

“But also could you not because I’m really excited to-“ Buggy is once again cut off by the looks of the two former warlords. But now understanding their dynamic you guess he probably riles them up like this on purpose. The line between fear and arousal is pretty thin, as you are learning right now.

“I can’t say I’m not interested.” You speak up and see Buggy beaming from across the room. “But I just- I’ve never been in a relationship like this.”

Mihawk’s hand glides from the arm of the chair to the outside of your thigh. “Neither had we before this. It’s not easy all the time but we make it work.”

It’s hard to ignore how much of an effect the small touch has on your body and you shift in your chair. “And you all really like me?”

“Yes.” All three of them answer at once, bringing a huge smile to your face. They rarely agree on anything but seeing them so automatically in sync for the answer- it douses a lot of your worries.

“So how would this work exactly?” You ball your hands in your lap, unable to look any of them in the eye directly.

“You would be ours.” Crocodile leans back on his desk to get more in your line of sight. “We go on dates occasionally. We share a bed when we are all in one place.”

“Due to our positions we can’t be as public as we would want to be. But that would be for your safety.” Mihawk’s thumb is drawing small circles on your thigh.

“But that doesn’t mean we won’t occasionally smother you at work.” Buggy bounces off the couch and moves over behind your chair. “Or at least I will.”

“You mean you don’t already?” You turn slightly to smile up at him and he returns your grin tenfold.

“And of course we would love to have you join us in our sexual endeavors.” Crocodile’s large hand creeps under your chin and pulls it over so you’re looking him in the eyes. “If you’ll have us.”

You melt under his touch and a small moan leaves you when Mihawk’s hand slides ever so closer inwards. Buggy’s hands land on your shoulder a gently rub and you are overwhelmed in the best way.

“I’ll have you. All of you.” At your words Buggy’s arms come around and hug you from behind and you can’t help but laugh a bit at his enthusiasm. “So what’s next?”

“If it’s not too fast you’ll come back to our room. Now.” The authority Crocodile exudes makes you nod your head quickly. You don’t know if you would be able to function properly if at least one of them didn’t take you to bed tonight.

Buggy tightens his hug before releasing you and bouncing to the door. Mihawk retracts his hand from your thigh but holds it out for you to help you stand. You take his hand and lace your fingers through it as you turn to the door, Crocodile bringing up the rear.

It’s a whirlwind getting back to their place- which you learn is Crocodile’s originally. None of them kiss you yet but their hands wander. Mihawk never lets go of your hand and squeezes it as Crocodile keeps a guiding hand on your lower back. Buggy’s detached hands are a bit braver, sneaking around your waist and hips and thighs. He gives your ass a light slap as you walk into the bedroom and it’s your turn to whip around and glare at him. There’s no malice behind it though and he waves at you as the offending hand snaps back onto his arm.

Turning back and looking around the room it is more distinctly Crocodile’s than anything from the simple and modern decor with his signature emerald green as accents. The other two have snuck their way in here though. You notice a large vanity mirror with makeup strewn around it and the bed is covered in dark plush fabrics. Despite being mismatched with the rest of the room it makes it more human, and you appreciate that as you slowly make your way over to the almost comically oversized bed.

Turning, you sit yourself on the edge of the bed and look up at the three men. “So, how do we start this?”

Buggy goes to walk towards you but is stopped by Crocodile’s arm. Mihawk and Crocodile share a glance and communicate something without words. Crocodile drags Buggy off to a large loveseat not too far from the bed as Mihawk approaches you.

“We’ll start off gentle, how about that?” Mihawk says as he crowds your space, looking down at you with those striking eyes.

“Hey- you never started gentle with me-“ Buggy’s voice is cut off and when you look over Crocodile has a fist full of blue hair and is harshly pulling his head up. He’s violently pulled into a kiss with Crocodile that you see the clown melt into, the gloved hands going to Crocodile’s knees to stabilize himself. You could watch them make out for hours but your gaze is gently pulled back to Mihawk with his hand on your chin.

“There will be plenty of time to watch. But I have to get you relaxed.” Mihawk grabs your waist and easily hoists you further into the bed, laying you down. He crawls over you, one hand stabilizing himself as another wanders up over your hips, waist, bust, and the finally resting gently around the side of your neck. Using his grip he brings you up and pulls you into a kiss.

Just as promised he starts off gentle, letting you set the pace. His lips are soft and you can taste his favorite wine. Breaking away to catch your breath you loop one arm around his shoulders and slide your mouth next to his ear.

“I appreciate this but-“ You lightly bite at his earlobe. “I don’t want you to be too gentle with me.”

When you retreat back to look at the swordsman’s face you see his eyes blown out, only a slim amber ring left. “I’d knew you’d be wonderful for us.”

He dives into another kiss, this time fully dominating it. His tongue presses against your lips and you let him in easily, letting him take over completely. Mihawk’s calloused hand comes around the front of your neck and he doesn’t squeeze but the thrill of it being there sends chills down your spine.

Eventually that hand sneaks down to your shirt, lightly squeezing one of your breasts before it moves down to the hem of your shirt. Fingers play with the edge before they slip under and push your shirt up as he travels back to your chest. You lean up and he allows you to break away from the kiss as you finish pulling your shirt up and over your head, throwing it somewhere on the floor. Mihawk wastes no time and unclasps your bra as you are doing so, and he pitches the garment far away as well.

Sitting up slightly the former warlord allows both his hands to wander your chest, earning small gasps from you as he squeezes and cups your breasts. He leans back down and kisses down your neck before replacing one of his hands with his mouth, kissing under your breast first before placing an open mouth kiss to your nipple. You bring your hand up to stifle a moan but from across the room a voice chastises you.

“Be loud love, we want to hear you over here.” Crocodile’s voice reminds you of his presence and you look back over his direction and are rewarded with a lewd image.

Crocodile sits wide in the seat, a cigar lit as he watches you and Mihawk. His pants are opened just enough for Buggy to work his cock, one hand on the base and his mouth covering the rest. Crocodile’s grip is strong on the clown’s hair as he forces Buggy’s head down. Seeing Crocodile so composed as he uses Buggy turns you on much more than you ever thought it would and you can feel how wet all of this is making of you.

You’re snapped back to Mihawk as he lightly bites at your nipple and this time you don’t muffle your moan. A hand wanders down your stomach and to your pants where deft fingers unbutton and unzip them quickly. After a harsh bite to the plush of your breast, definitely leaving a bruise, he leans back and brings both hands to the waistband of your pants.

“Lift your hips for me.” You obey his words and he takes off your pants and underwear in one go, and you shudder at the sudden coolness. One hand lays on your hip and another goes to your thigh. Gently he pushes your thighs open and he groans at what he sees.

“All this already?” His fingers skate down to your entrance and he pulls his fingers over it, collecting your slick. Bringing his fingers up to his mouth you watch slack jawed as he licks them clean. “I think I’ll have to taste more.”

Pushing himself back he kisses the insides of your thighs and you moan as he gets closer and closer to where you want him to be. One of your hands fists into the sheets and you bring the other gently to Mihawk’s head, tangling your fingers in his hair.

Finally his mouth reaches your folds and you buck up against him but he quickly brings a hand up to hold you down. With just one hand he’s able to pin your body and that sends another flood of warmth to your core. After another second, making sure you’ll stay still, he finally dives in fully.

His tongue flattens and draws up across your opening and up to your clit where it stops. He presses a kiss to it that makes you gasp before his tongue travels back down and dips inside of you. The hand in his hair grip hard and you’re afraid for a second he’ll stop again but he just moans in appreciation. His nose rubs against your clit and you throw your head back, again getting a glance of Buggy and Crocodile.

Buggy was still kneeling at Crocodile’s feet but he wasn’t blowing him anymore. Instead Crocodile’s own hand was on his dick, gripping the base and slowly tugging as he locked eyes with you. You were finally able to see just how big he was and for a second you got concerned with how that would ever possibly fit inside you. Your eyes went down to Buggy and you could barely make out him softly whining and it took a second before you looked even lower and realized his pants were off. One of his detached hands was steadily pumping a finger into himself and his face was nestled on Crocodile’s thigh. The sight cause you to try and buck into Mihawk’s mouth against but you were powerless and all you could do was writhe and whine against his mouth.

Mihawk’s excellent skills were quickly bringing you to the edge and he could sense it. Pulling away for only a second he called out to Buggy. “Clown, come put your hands to good use.”

You saw the unoccupied glove hand fly over and hover by Mihawk and when he dove in to give attention to your clit the gloved hand when close by, easily slipping two fingers into you. Almost immediately you’re thrown over the edge and scream in pleasure.

The world is fuzzy for a few seconds and when you come back to your body you realize neither of them have stopped their movements. So sensitive from your orgasm you loudly moaned and gripped Mihawk even harder.

Peering up at you he breaks away for a second. “You can give us one more, can’t you darling?”

Buggy’s fingers curl inside you and Mihawk lightly nips at your sensitive clit and you’re cumming again, a deep groan leaving your body as pleasure washes over you again.

Finally the mouth and hand retreat and it takes you a bit before you focus back on the world around you. When you do you see Crocodile, naked and stroking his cock right above you. You sit up and look to him for direction, earning you a sly smile.

“You’re already so obedient aren’t you.” His hand comes up and fingers gently thread in your hair as he pulls you closer to his dick. “Want to show me how good you can be?”

“Yes sir.” You say, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

That earns you a moan from him and he drags you closer, the tip of his cock pressing against your lips. Obediently you open your mouth and let him press himself further in as he guides your head. You take a deep breath through your nose as you push yourself further feeling his dick fill up your mouth and into your throat. When your nose is finally up against his pelvis he moans deep in his chest and lets himself sit there for a moment. Tears prick at the edges of your eyes but it’s worth it for this feeling.

You can only hold like this for so long, and you have to let him slide out of your mouth. You hold your mouth open for him though, thick strings of your saliva connecting him to you.

“Fuck, you’re good.” He praises, the hand in your hair gently petting you for a second before gripping again. “Gonna let me use your mouth more?”

Knowing he loved it the first time you respond with the simple, “yes sir.”

He plunges immediately back into your mouth and all you can do is focus on your breathing as he fucks your face relentlessly. You know you’re dripping onto the bed as you rub against the sheets for any sort of friction. It isn’t long before you feel Crocodile’s cock twitch in your mouth and you assume he is going to cum down your throat but to your surprise he pulls away.

You look up at him, slightly disappointed, tears and spit covering your face. His hand reaches down and wipes away some of the spit.

“I’m not going to waste my load in your mouth tonight sweetheart, there will be plenty of time for that later.” His promise sends a thrill through you and suddenly you are joined in the bed by Buggy.

When you turn to him he looks just as fucked out as you are, his face paint smeared and bruises along his neck. Buggy’s eyes dart up to Crocodiles and you can’t see what’s exchanged but in a flash Buggy is on you, kissing you.

He’s eager and it fills you with new energy as you ramp up to match him. Hands wander every inch of your body, never stopping for too long.

“Been wanting to touch you for so long.” He whispers in between feverish kisses. “So soft…”

He gropes your boobs and ass with detached hands and you gasp into his mouth, giving him the opportunity to snake his tongue in. You give into him but it’s short lived as soon Mihawk is dragging him off of you.

“Hey!” He protests, his hands still full of your body.

“You’ll have your fun.” Mihawk chides. Buggy sulks a bit but brightens up when you cover the hand on your tit with your own and squeeze.

Crocodile’s hands join Buggy’s on your body and you feel him maneuvering you so you’re laying on your stomach, ass to him. Buggy is on your side and Mihawk is in front of you, now naked like everyone else. Now it’s his cock at your mouth. Not as big as Crocodile’s but slender and curved.

“Think you can take two of us at once?” Mihawk asks, hand gently petting you.

“Yes, please.” You moan, embarrassment having left you long ago.

“You’re so perfect darling. Now open up.” You immediately obey the swordsman and he lets his tip sit on your tongue, lightly dragging it barely into your mouth and out.

You’re about to lean forward to take more of him but something presses against your entrance and your head snaps around to see Crocodile lining himself up with you. Mihawk’s hand is in your hair again as he brings your mouth back to his dick.

You feel Crocodile’s cock push into your cunt and you moan at the intrusion. Taking advantage of that Mihawk slips himself down into your mouth further, causing you to almost choke. He seems to enjoy that, lightly thrusting in at the noise.

Crocodile moves slow and you’re thankful for the time to adjust to his size. As you get into rhythm with Mihawk you realize Buggy is stroking your back, gently soothing you. Needing him to be included you reach your hand out and find his thigh, slowly reaching up until you find the base of his dick. You can’t see it but it’s heavy in your hand as you slowly begin to pump him in time with Mihawk’s thrusts into your mouth.

With one final push Crocodile has bottomed out and you feel his hips against your ass. He pauses for a second and leans down, pressing hot kisses to your back while you finally adjust to his full size. It’s not too long however before he’s upright again, and his hand goes to the base of your back as he starts slowly thrusting in and out of you.

Your senses are overwhelmed by pleasure and every moan you release is muffled by Mihawk’s dick and he picks up the pace, loving the way you feel around him. You focus on keeping a steady pace with Buggy and let the rest of your body be used by the two other powerful men.

It’s Crocodile who falters first, his thrusts becoming faster and irregular as he grips your hips firmly and pushes you down with every thrust. You feel him shudder and he reaches over and replaces Mihawk’s hand in your hair with his own, pulling you up off of him.

“Where do you want me to cum, tell me.” He demands, not slowing down at all.

“Inside.” You manage, voice wrecked.

He pulls you into a heated kiss before pushing you back down and doubling his efforts. His hand flies down to your clit as he helps you to reach your peak with him. You cum quickly from his touch and that send him over the edge too, burying himself deep and unloading into you.

Crocodile slowly pulls out of you and you can feel his cum seeping out. You feel his large fingers at your entrance and he pushes some of his seed back into you.

“Take a look Hawkeyes.” Crocodile voice was gruff.

You didn’t even register that Mihawk had walked around behind you until you heard his voice. “Fuck that’s a picture. Buggy, flip them around.”

Suddenly Buggy’s hands were on your waist, flipping you over as directed. You finally get a good look at him and he’s kneeling next to you, dick bright red and leaking. Reaching over you go to continue your earlier work with him but your hand it caught by Mihawk’s.

“He doesn’t cum until the end.” He informs you. “Don’t worry, he likes it that way.”

A bright red creeps up Buggy’s neck that confirms that fact. And you can’t help but flash him a smile.

“Think you can still take me?” Your attention is brought back to Mihawk as he drags his length over your entrance, coating it in yours and Crocodile’s cum.

You nod eagerly, desperate to please and be filled up again.

The swordsman easily slips into you and he wastes no time, roughly thrusting into you. You cry out from the feeling, overwhelmed and fucked out from your previous three orgasms. Buggy is right there besides you, gently running his fingers through your hair and whispering praise about how good you looked and how well you’ve been taking them. It’s all enough to send you quickly to the edge and it’s clear Mihawk is right there with you.

“Can I-“ His voice is cut off when you clench around him.

“Yes, inside, please Mihawk.” Your pleading sends him over and his fingers dig into your thighs as he cums inside you. You’re not far after him, Buggy’s helpful hand going between your legs to give you the final push.

Mihawk pulls out and you are full, cum gushing out of you. The swordsman stops and stares at your fucked out cunt in appreciation before Buggy stands next to him to look as well. Mihawk pulls Buggy into a kiss and when he breaks away he gives Buggy a small nod before walking away.

“Hey I’m not gonna push you love.” His hand is pumping up and down on his length fast. “Just wanna cum on you, can I do that, please babe?”

The desperation in his voice is clear and you nod, no longer having a voice to use.

“Fuck, thank you, you’re perfect, just like that-“ His words are quick and dissolve into unintelligible as he works himself faster before spilling himself onto your folds with a loud moan.

You finally allowed your body to relax, sinking into the bed, exhaustion overtaking your body. Crocodile comes back into view and he gently cleans you up with a wash cloth, pressing a kiss to your knee when he’s done. Mihawk comes to your side and helps you properly into bed, under the covers. Buggy is at your side almost immediately, arms wrapping around you as his face settles into the crook of your neck. It’s not long until Crocodile joins you on your other side and you allow yourself to snuggle up into his chest. You vaguely notice Mihawk climb into bed on the other side of Crocodile as sleep starts to take you.

Crocodile presses a kiss to your forehead right before you fall asleep.

“We love you.”

[angelskills]

Can you do Choso reacting to the reader casually referring to him as their husband for the first time?

a/n: hello! thank you sm for requesting :) chosos reaction would be soo cute! I'm not sure if you wanted fluff or smut, so i added both! sorry for posting so late, also NOT PROOF READ!

"He's my husband"...

warnings: riding, teasing, p in v, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, doesn't pull out(birth control), whimpering, penetration, idk what else.

characters: choso, your friends

intro: your friend, Yumi, offers to go on a double date to catch up on your lives.

You and Choso have been engaged for about 3 months now. You guys dated for about 4-5 years until Choso finally proposed to you. You both agreed on moving in together after the proposal. You must admit that agreeing to move in together was the BEST decision ever. You always woke up to him making breakfast for both of you guys, you never went to sleep mad at him, and it was just... perfect.

Choso knew your friends. You always gossiped about them (not shit-talking, just about the drama they have) to him and he listened to every detail VERY well. He knew every single thing about your friends.

Since you guys haven't hung out in a long time, one of your friends, Yumi, wanted to go on a double date. She was all the way in California for about 4 months, meaning you both had a lot of catching up to do.

After trying to convince him, Choso finally agreed to go, you know he can't say no to you.

You guys were finally at the restaurant at a table for four, talking to Choso as you waited for Yumi and her date.

"Y/N!!" Yumi yelled out, running towards you.

You smiled, standing up from your seat to give her a hug. "New man every day, huh?" You whispered in her ears, teasing her. Yumi slightly pinched your arm before sitting down. There's nothing wrong with Yumi, just the fact you see her with different men every week, guess every man she meets is always a red flag.

"I hear you guys are engaged," Yumi speaks, looking at you and Choso.

"Mhm," You say wrapping your arm around Choso's, "He's my husband now."

Choso turned red. So red, that man was BLUSHING. His face went rosy-cheek. This was the first time you actually called him husband. Even though you guys have been dating and are now engaged, he has never heard you call him your husband. This was new to him.

While you, Yumi, and her date were talking and gossiping, all Choso could think about is the fact you called him your husband. Husband. Husband. 'My husband'. Those words rang in his ears. He couldn't get it off of his mind.

After eating, you and Yumi finally decided to go home. It was like, what, 12am now?

On the ride home, Choso didn't seem to talk as much. His face was red, red to the point you thought he had a fever.

"Bae? You okay?" You worry, placing your hand on his head to see his temperature.

Choso gulped, he was so embarrassed to tell you this.

"That's why you weren't talking the whole time?" You laugh, making fun of Choso, "Because I called you my husband?" You were lying on the sofa. Choso sat beside you, letting you place your legs on his lap. This might've been weird for you guys to do before, but you both did so many weird things together, that this didn't even mean anything.

Choso always gets flustered easily, and it wasn't making it any easier for him now that you were making fun of him.

"You never call me husband, it's a... it's a new thing." He mumbles, leaning on the sofa.

"Can you get me a glass of water, husband?" You teased, doing a silly face.

You calling him husband again, wasn't helping him, at ALL.

"Stop..." He cleared his throat, his eyebrows furrowing.

Hearing you say husband again and again turned him on so much. Especially with your voice, the word husband. He could feel the bulge in his pants. He palmed it, trying to hide his boner from you.

Sitting up, you were confused, why wasn't he saying anything? Until you noticed his hand on his crotch, you knew what was happening.

You smirked as you crawled on his lap, poking his hand for him to move it.

Choso gulped as you placed yourself right against the bulge in his pants. Choso's size was big. Big for someone like him. You nearly blacked out when you both first had sex. That dick was WORLD-ending.

He appears innocent, yes, the man who buys you flowers whenever possible, the man who chases and follows you around, the man who writes poems for you, is the same man who has you a moaning mess, dumb on his cock every time.

Tears were rolling down your face. Him and his fucking stamina. Choso was fucking you through your fourth orgasm. You were a fucked out mess on his lap. His hands were on your waist, lifting you up and then letting you drop on his cock. The pleasure was overwhelming for you, you were just babbling and moaning, not being able to speak a word. His length kisses your cervix with each one of his deep thrusts, his hands placed on your ass, and his fingers digging in your flesh. His thrusts made you see stars every time, had your toes curling, and made your eyes roll back.

"Hngh.. f-fuck." He whimpered, as he jerked his head back, his fingers digging in your waist, leaving marks.

You felt another orgasm build up inside of you, your hands were placed on Choso's shoulders as you were riding him. He's even noisier than you are at this point. Loud whimpers, groans, and expressions from your warm and wet pussy clenching around him so tightly. Your nails were leaving little red marks on his shoulder, which is like a reward to him because he knows that you're making him feel good.

You were so close to your orgasm. You managed to whimper out a whiny "Choso...!", your pussy clenching around him even tighter.

"Haah, holy s-shit..." His voice cracked as he was interrupted by whimpers, feeling you tighten around him.

You felt like you were in heaven, your orgasms around his cock made a little ring around it.

He sped up his pace, his thrusts now bruising your cervix, his grip on your waist tightening. Your eyes rolled back, his fast and deep thrusts blurring your vision.

"F-fuck... wanna s-see you milk my cock ple-ase baby, o-oh my god..!" He whimpered, breathing heavily.

That sweet innocent man was fucking you as if he hated you. He hit your G-spot again and again, finally making you cream around his cock.

His eyes almost rolled back after he felt you milk his length and tighten around him.

All it took was a few more deep thrusts before he finally reached his orgasm. He made sure to have his cock deep inside of you so he can fill you to the brim, thick ropes of cum spurting out of his cock as he painted your walls white.

After cooling down for a few seconds, he finally lifted you off of his cock. Giving you a little kiss before carrying you to the bathtub to help you get cleaned up.

[locketsvault]

「 CUDDLING WITH BSD MEN PT 2/4 」

pairings: chuuya x reader ፥ akutagawa x reader ፥ oda x reader

tags: gender neutral reader, no agab mentioned, first person, fluff, cuddling/phyiscal affection

warnings: talks of canon illness in akutagawa, not proof read

other parts: ada ᨒ port mafia ᨒ doa + the guild ᨒ the hunting dogs

a/n: fyi for chuuya I have not read stormbringer so forgive me. oda is also short because I didn’t really know what to say for him. no gender or sex mentioned, no pronouns either!

// chuuya nakahara ⌇˚.༄

⮑ Is there such thing as classy cuddles? Because he gives classy cuddles.

⮑ The word I’d use for him in a relationship is classy, I can’t help it. But I do mean classy in a good way. Physical affection with him started off small, and he allowed you to pace when you were ready for more. I also see him as someone who always has an arm around you, either over your shoulders or on your waist.

⮑ He keeps pda to a minimum, he won’t cuddle you in public, especially in front his co workers. He’s an executive and he takes it serious. I also don’t think he’d want to show you as his weakness, he wouldn’t want you to get hurt.

⮑ Cuddling with Chuuya is oddly nice. Oddly because he seems rough on the outside. He is very rarely little spoon during cuddle sessions, he feels insecure. But he makes up for it, he’s a great big spoon. He’s a warm, very very warm. I can actually picture you in between his legs cuddling him while he has a wine glass in his hand. Now a many things could happen, one of you is talking, or you’re watching something. Either way, it works well with him.

⮑ The downside is he isn’t home much for cuddles. He’s either away for jobs or at work. So unless you’re willing to sit in his lap while he does paperwork, you don’t get your cuddles.

⮑ 7/10, very good cuddles …when you get them.

// ryunosuke akutagawa ⌇˚.༄

⮑ I just want to know how you managed to touch him in the first place.

⮑ Everyone always says he is touch adverse, which I completely agree, but then people usually say that when it comes down to it he hates it and stuff like that. I have to disagree. I think he’s terrified of it yes, he grew up without any form of physical love, but I do think deep down he yearns for it. He craves it and, when he finally gives in, his entire meticulously built wall completely shatters. Which is how I wonder, how’d you manage it?

⮑ I won’t lie, I believe behind closed doors once he’s comfortable with cuddling or touch and he’s quite clingy. You just feel so warm and well— safe. I can promise you though, it will only be behind closed doors. Do not try to be physically affectionate in public, especially in front of his coworkers. At least not for a very long time.

⮑ I like to imagine that after a time, with lots of reassurance about his ability, he will pull you into cuddles with rashomon. Which, I feel like he’d be bad about verbally asking for affection so he’d do that instead. It’s easier on his illness to use his ability.

⮑ Speaking of his illness sadly, it can make cuddling tough. One moment you could be resting in his arms and the next he’s having a nasty coughing fit. There’s been times when he’s be insecure about his illness and not want to be touched anymore.

⮑ 4/10, I love my baby but his illness + his traumas it’s hard for him to be physically affectionate.

// oda sakunosuke ⌇˚.༄

⮑ He takes care of orphans therefore I am a firm believer he knows how to cuddle.

⮑ I mean it too, he takes care of kids physically and emotionally, he’s got dad hugs. If anyone is gonna hold you and it make you feel safe and taken care of, it’s him. And he knows it too. And he has a six sense for when you need cuddling. And sometimes you end up in a cuddle pile with the kids. I don’t make the rules.

⮑ Oda is 50/50 with pda, he doesn’t mind it, especially if it’s something you love. But it does worry him, like Chuuya, he’s afraid of showing you as a weakness and you getting hurt or killed. But if it’s safe, he usually sticks to holding your hand or holding your waist. I can see him holding you close with your heads rested in each others shoulders while at a public theater.

⮑ Private cuddles are common and comfortable. Oh and he’s always the big spoon. He’s always holding you, I don’t really see him as the type to be held.

⮑ 9/10 you can feel all the care in his arms.

main hub ✦ masterlist ✦ to do list

[rashoumon-homo]

No Such Tastes In Men pt.3 (Dazai x Reader)

Dazai x Male Reader, NSFW

-> Content Warnings: male!reader, anal sex (Dazai receiving), bottom Dazai, dom!reader

-> 1.9k words

NSFW CONTENT AHEAD - READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

<- Previous Part

When Dazai approaches you for your weekly meeting, you can tell there’s something more on his mind. He’s biting his lip, eyes not meeting yours, while you give your report on suspicious activity you’ve monitored in the past days. It’s not like him to be so distracted, so nervous, so you stop mid-sentence and fold your arms over your chest. 

“Alright, spit it out,” you say, eyes narrowed. “You’re thinking so loud it’s drowning me out.”

Dazai gives you an apologetic smile. “That obvious, huh? I was trying to find the right words to invite you back to my place after this meeting.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Why do I want to invite you over, or why was I thinking so hard about how to ask you?” he asks.

“Both, I suppose.”

On the surface, Dazai looks as calm as ever, but to the trained eye he’s clearly nervous. That slight tremble of his hands that he hides by shoving his hands in his pockets; how his gaze flicks away as he laughs nervously. “I wanted to try something new with you.” He swallows. “I want you to fuck me.”

You can’t help but laugh, relieved. “That’s it? You don’t need to be nervous to ask me that! We’ve been getting each other off for months now, it’s no big deal.”

“Only during the weekly meetings,” he clarifies. “And only with our hands or our mouths. Inviting you over outside of that time frame, and to actually fuck me– which would be my first time, mind you– is different.”

You shrug. “I don’t think it’s weird, if that’s any consolation. You want me to top?”

Dazai nods. You smile and step forward, tucking his hair behind his ear. “Alright,” you murmur. “I’ll make it good for you, don’t worry.”

He shivers, breath catching in his throat. His reaction lights a spark inside you, your heart racing at the prospect of making him melt in your hands; getting to fuck those pretty whines and moans out of him. 

“I’ll let you get ready. 9:00 tonight?” you suggest. 

Dazai nods. His eyes are wide and if you had better hearing you swear you’d be able to hear his racing heart. 

“Hey,” you say softly. “Don’t stress too much, okay? I’ll take care of you.”

As you leave the alley, you hear him say quietly, “That’s why I’m worried…”

***

You knock on Dazai’s apartment door a few minutes before 9. He opens it a second later, his face flushed and a nervous grin on his face. He’s changed into a much more casual outfit; a plain t-shirt and jeans. It’ll be much easier to get him out of it than his work clothes would have been. 

The apartment is warm and cozy. There’s music softly playing from a speaker by the tv, something slow and romantic you don’t recognize. He leads you to the living room and invites you to sit down on the couch, then heads to the kitchen. “Want anything to drink?” he calls out. 

You smile to yourself. He’s trying so hard to set the mood and it’s kind of adorable. “Water’s fine,” you reply. 

He appears a second later with two glasses: water for you, and whiskey for himself. You down half the glass in a couple gulps, while he sips his drink and sits beside you rigidly. 

“Relax,” you remind him, bumping your shoulder into his. He smiles sheepishly in return and takes another sip of his drink. 

“You hook up with women all the time, don’t you?” you ask. “Why’re you acting so shy?”

“It’s just… different,” he says with a sigh. “You’re the only guy I’ve ever been with, and you’re so experienced. I don’t know what we are; what our boundaries are. We’ve made each other cum a dozen times but we’ve never even kissed. I just… don’t want to do the wrong thing.”

You smile sympathetically at him. “We don’t need to figure out a label right now unless you want to. But you do make a good point about boundaries. For me, anything physical is fine. You can touch me, kiss me, bite me, whatever you want. I’m fine with you calling me ‘baby’ or whatever during sex, just don’t blindside me with an ‘I love you’ or anything.”

Dazai shakes his head and laughs. “Pfft, I wouldn’t do that, don’t worry. My boundaries are the same. And I don’t mind if you leave marks or anything, they’d probably get covered by my bandages anyway.”

“Since we’re both okay with kissing,” you say playfully, “Want to get our first kiss out of the way? Might help you relax a little.”

Dazai sets his drink down and scoots closer. “Okay,” he says, cautiously reaching his hand up to rest on your shoulder. You cup his jaw in your hand and stare into his eyes for a moment. Your other hand rests at his waist. You brush your thumb along his lower lip and pull him forward so your foreheads meet. 

“God, you’re handsome,” you whisper, then bring his lips to yours. He kisses you softly, tentatively, at first, but then you part your lips and he mirrors you, tongue dipping into your mouth. You hear him groan quietly into the kiss and you can taste his whiskey on his tongue. His hand slides up from your shoulder to your cheek. He holds you surprisingly gently, more so than you expected anyway. 

When you break apart, you’re both breathing hard, cheeks flushed and soft smiles on your faces. 

“Better?” you ask. 

He grins and kisses you again in response. This time, he swings his leg over yours to sit in your lap, his fingers threading into your hair. You trail your kisses down to his neck, where you suck hickeys onto his skin. 

“I could do this all night, just keep kissing you until my lips hurt,” he says breathlessly. 

You laugh, the vibrations tickling his neck. “I can think of something better,” you say. Then you grab the undersides of his thighs and lift him up. He wraps his arms around your neck and crosses his ankles. 

“Which way to the bedroom?” you ask, still nibbling at his neck. 

“Down the hall, first door on the right.”

You continue kissing him as you carry him down the hall, and with some difficulty (considering you’re carrying him, kissing him, and have never been here before) find your way to the bedroom. You lower him onto the bed and climb on top of him. 

“Doing okay?” you ask. You sit up and pull off your shirt. 

Dazai nods enthusiastically, then pointedly bucks his hips up to press your erections together. You both groan at the contact, and then it’s a tangled mess of you grinding against each other while trying to pull clothes off. 

Finally, you’re able to slip his boxers down and get your hands on that cock. You’re careful not to touch him too much; you don’t want him cumming before it’s time. But just a little for now is fine, to tease him. 

“Gonna have to stretch you now,” you say. “It’s probably gonna take a while since this is your first time, but-” You stop talking when you see Dazai looking to the side, embarrassed. “What…?” you ask.

“It is my first time, but I’ve, uh… fingered myself before?” he says quietly. 

“Oh?” Just that “oh?” is enough for Dazai to crack, spilling the secret he’d tried to keep all day. 

“A little after we first hooked up, I tried fingering myself, cause I was curious, and it was really good but it wasn’t enough and then I ended up buying a dildo but pretty soon that wasn’t enough either and I realized what I really wanted was YOU and that’s why I asked you to fuck me,” Dazai says quickly. 

Your eyes widen with surprise. “Pass me the lube,” you say finally. He hands it to you, looking a little apprehensive still. You coat your fingers, then slip one in. Dazai gasps quietly as he feels it go in. He’s loose, way more than you expected. And so soft and warm inside. You add another and ask, “You stretched yourself before I came here, too, didn’t you?”

Dazai nods. “Mmh… wanted to be ready…” he moans. You slip a third finger in and curl them, petting his walls while searching for his prostate. “Feels so good when it’s someone else’s fingers,” he says. He’s squirming and letting out little breathy grunts as you finger him open. And then you brush over his prostate and he jolts and cries out. Applying just the right amount of indirect pressure has him writhing under your touch and moaning lewdly. 

“Please,” he begs. “I need more…”

“Think you’re ready?” you tease. It’s too much fun taking him apart like this. 

“Please,” he whines. And he looks so pitiful and needy that you just have to oblige him. 

“Alright,” you say. You kiss him to distract him from you pulling out your fingers, then grab the condom he hands you and roll it on. “You sure?” you ask again, this time your voice tinged with genuine worry. “If you want to stop at any point just let me know and-”

Dazai impatiently pulls you down into a bruising kiss. Precum smears onto your stomach as he pulls you close, and you can feel how hot his cock is against you. “Fuck me,” he says desperately. 

You nod and line yourself up with him. You hold his hips in place as you slide in, as slowly as he will let you. Once you’re all the way in, you grind your cock against his prostate and he mewls, pushing his hips further into you. 

“So full…” he groans. “Please… move…”

And so you do. You drag your cock almost all the way out, then thrust in. Dazai positively wails at the sensation. “Fuck,” he cries. 

“You’re so tight and so perfect,” you moan, thrusting in again. The feeling is addictive; Dazai’s hole is sucking you in so nicely. Soon you’re thrusting at a regular pace, holding Dazai’s hips and listening to him moan. 

Fuck, he’s loud, too. Between his loud cries and the sound of the bed frame hitting the wall, he’s sure to get some complaints from neighbors. But you can’t even bring yourself to care. He’s so perfect, so fucking sexy. 

“Please… gonna…” Dazai moans. “Touch me…”

You barely wrap your hand around his cock before his back is arching and he’s cumming hard, moans cutting out into a silent scream as he reaches his peak. The feeling of him tightening around you brings you over the edge too. You thrust hard into him one last time and let out a guttural moan. 

As your orgasms taper off, you collapse onto Dazai’s chest, listening to the rapid beating of his heart. 

“Holy shit,” he says finally. 

You laugh. “Yeah?”

“I think I’m bi.”

Dazai starts laughing and then you laugh too, kissing him lazily. Maybe you’re just caught up in the moment, but you can’t help but feel like there’s something more between you two than just sexual exploration. It’s something to ask him about later, for sure, but for now you just want to be two happy, sweaty, cum-covered bodies tangled together. Besides, the way Dazai kisses the top of your head? That’s gotta be as good as it gets.

Tag list: @suru1990

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[xomakara]

Crossing Boundaries

(re-posting from my old account seulrinnie-rinrin/xomakara-secondary)

SUMMARY | You are older than Wooyoung by two years and is best friends with his older brother, so you always saw Wooyoung as a younger brother. But Wooyoung wants to be so much more than a younger brother. PAIRING | Wooyoung x Reader GENRE/CONTENT | non-idol!Wooyoung, older!Reader, non-idol au, romance, fluff, smut, oral sex, fingering, vaginal sex WARNINGS | A slightly older reader and younger man?? RATING | NSFW, explicit, mature, 18+ LENGTH | 8,033 words TAGLIST | — NETWORKS | AUTHOR’S NOTE | The noona in me is happy and glad to write this. Maybe the filthiest I ever wrote lol. Couldn’t exactly push to 10k but 8k words is still good enough lol

"What's the occasion?" Wooyoung looks at you sprawled out on his bed.

"No occasion. Just needed someone to talk to." You replied after making yourself comfortable. "Your brother is goofing off who knows where and you're the only person that's here in Seoul. I have nothing better to do."

"Did you get dumped?" Wooyoung asked, watching your face. "Again?"

"I dumped him this time!" You say, deciding to let some of the frustration out. "My god he really has no fucking clue what he wants. He likes me, but thinks I'm not good enough for him? How many times do I have to hear that idiot saying those things before it finally sinks into his head that it's wrong?! I deserve someone that can give me the proper love and care! Not someone that doesn't even know how to express his feelings properly or treat me right!"

Wooyoung could be that man. Be the man that gives you proper love and care.

But he knows that you don't think of him in that way. You only see him as a little brother since you're his older brother's best friend. He didn't even care that you were older than him by two years. To him, age was just a number. So to him, there wasn't any reason why he shouldn't have fallen in love with you. You're the girl he wanted most when he was young, but never got because he was too scared to make a move on you.

"The guy is an idiot if he can't see how perfect you are for him." Wooyoung says, leaning back against his desk chair.

"Ugh, maybe I should stop dating people." You sigh. "Maybe I should stick to just reading books from now on. No dating needed at all. Reading about romance in a book is much easier and much less painful."

"Come on, noona. There are other men that would gladly date you." Wooyoung says.

"Are your roommates single?" You turned your head to look at him.

"Why?" He raised an eyebrow at you. “Thought you just said that you’re going to stop dating.”

"I need to find a really handsome guy." You said. “Just so I can get back at that stupid bastard and rub it in his face.”

"Sorry Y/N-noona," Wooyoung shrugged. "But both Hongjoong-hyung and Jongho have girlfriends. And I'm pretty sure my other friends are taken too."

"Fuck. Why do all the pretty men have to be taken?" You complained, burying your face into Wooyoung's pillow. "Even your brother isn't single."

"Like you'd ever date your best friend." Wooyoung snorted, earning himself a glare from you.

"I might have thought about it before." You admitted, returning a snort of your own. "You know there was a time where every girl wanted your brother back in high school."

"Even you?" He laughed, pinching your cheeks. "So why didn't you go after him then?"

"Because your brother only saw me as his best friend." You sighed. "It took him a long time before he realized that I was actually attracted to him. And then he rejected me. And now we laugh about it whenever we meet up together."

"And there starts your origin story of getting heartbroken and dumped every time. Every story will start with Y/N going out with a cute guy, crushing on them, and being rejected." Wooyoung mused.

"Mhm." You agreed. "One day though. One day, everything will work out for me."

"Keep dreaming." Wooyoung teased.

"Fine, fine. It won't happen soon though. Maybe I'll die alone and unfulfilled." You groaned. "You're such a buzzkill, Wooyoung."

"But the world would be dull without me." Wooyoung replied with a laugh.

You sat up in his bed, running a hand through your hair. "Let's go out and drink. I want to forget about all this shit."

"Hm?" Wooyoung raised an eyebrow.

"Drink with me." You said, standing up and taking a step towards him.

"Alright, alright." Wooyoung relented. "Where do you want to go?"

"A bar nearby." You answered, feeling more excited than usual. "Something new, I've been to the same places over and over again."

"Alright." Wooyoung nods. "But don't be picking up random guys there! I'm not gonna deal with some drunk douchebag that's trying to get in your pants. If they try something I swear to god I'll-"

"Ohhh, is my Wooyoungie jealous already?" You asked with a chuckle. "Don't worry, this noona here won't be picking up any guys. Just come out with me and drink with me. You can even invite your roommates or friends. I don't care as long as I have a few drinks in me."

"Noona, you sure?" He eyed you suspiciously. "You're not just saying that to make me feel good, are you?"

"I'm positive." You assured him. "After breaking up with that idiot, I don't even want to deal with picking up guys anymore. That's the least of my worries. Now please come drink with me. Please?"

"Alright." Wooyoung said slowly. "I guess I'll go along with you this one time."

"Thank you!" You jumped up and down excitedly. "That's all I wanted to hear! You're the best Wooyoungie."

"Yeah, yeah." Wooyoung waved you away. "Let's go get drunk."

Wooyoung watched as you laughed at something Yunho was saying to you and he couldn't help but stare at the way your lips moved, forming each word and speaking with such confidence. He had seen you laughing before but never like this. Your eyes shone bright and it seemed like the whole room lit up when you did. Seeing you smile genuinely made him happy and he wished he could have frozen that moment right there.

"You like her." San suddenly stated, shocking him out of his daze.

"What?" Wooyoung asked, looking up at the person beside him.

"Y/N-noona." San repeated, narrowing his eyes. "The way you looked at her the last time we went out drinking, I knew it. You like her. A lot."

"You're delusional." Wooyoung shook his head. "She's my older brother's best friend. She's completely off limits."

"Off limits or not, you still like her." San said. "It's okay, you can admit it."

"There's nothing to admit." Wooyoung muttered, looking back at you and smiling slightly. "Nothing to tell anyone."

"Let me guess...She see's you as a little brother, huh? Is that it?" San gave him a disbelieving look.

"Stop it." Wooyoung sighed. "San, you're annoying me."

"Okay, okay." San said with a laugh. "I'll stop talking about your precious noona."

"Great." Wooyoung rolled his eyes before gesturing to you and Yunho. "Now that we have that settled, I think it's time for me to break up whatever is going on over there."

Your laughter was angelic to his ears. The sound calmed him and the sight of your genuine happiness warmed his heart. All he wanted to do was stay there forever, basking in the bliss that is your smile. How lucky his brother was to have you as a friend. What a treasure it was to have you around.

He had never felt this way about another woman. When he first met you back in elementary school, he didn't pay attention to you because you were a tomboy. But when you entered middle school and started to become more feminine, he started noticing you more and found himself admiring the confidence you carried in yourself. Whenever he hung out with you, he always felt relaxed and refreshed. He never had trouble talking to you and he loved hearing your stories. They were entertaining and very interesting.

In all honesty, he didn't think he'd fall in love with you, but once he realized he had feelings for you, it became impossible to deny it.

Ever since he realized his feelings for you, he's tried so hard to keep himself at a distance, because he didn't want to scare you away with his crush. He didn't want to force you to like him, so he continued acting normal around you, not giving you the chance to realize that he liked you. He figured that if you never knew how he felt about you, it would just give him an excuse to keep your friendship alive. To be close to you. To see your smile and listen to your voice. He enjoyed spending time with you. He liked talking to you.

When he had a chance to get closer to you, he always decided against it, thinking it was a bad idea. After all, you were his older brother's friend.

"Noona, you doing good?" Wooyoung asked you, resting a hand on your shoulder.

"Just a little buzzed, that's all." You managed to say without slurring your words. "Yunho and Mingi has been keeping an eye on me."

"Oh yeah?" Wooyoung grinned. "You're not picking them up, are you?"

"Nooooo~" You laughed, shooing him away playfully. "I said that I wasn't going to pick up guys and I mean it!"

"You're drunk aren't you? How many drinks have you had, noona?" Wooyoung asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Seven." You announced proudly. "Three beers and four shots."

"You really need to slow down." Wooyoung frowned, shaking his head.

"How about you let me buy you a beer, so you can drink with me?" You suggested.

"I refuse." Wooyoung refused to budge.

"How about you buy me a few drinks?" You raised your eyebrows at him.

"No." Wooyoung shook his head firmly.

"How about you take me home?" You suggested, batting your eyelashes at him.

Wooyoung had to take deep breaths to calm himself down at that statement. Of course he wanted to take you home. He wanted to take you home, kiss you senseless, bend you over the table, fuck you - nonono, he couldn't think like that! Not with you as his older brother's friend! It was wrong to have these thoughts. It was wrong to want this. This can never happen.

"Alright, alright." Wooyoung said, reaching for his wallet and pulling out money. "I’ll buy you some more drinks."

“Yay!” You happily clapped your hands, accepting the money from him and quickly getting up. You grabbed Wooyoung's hand, tugging him along behind you. "Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go! Shots! Shots! Shots!”

Wooyoung let you drag him towards the bar where a few of his friends were hanging out. You were practically pulling him by his arm. Luckily, none of them minded. In fact, everyone was amused by the situation. Some were outright staring at you and chuckling. You dragged Wooyoung to the counter, pointing at bottles and making drunken demands while grabbing the bartender's attention. After a few minutes of confusion and waiting, you finally got your drinks. You held the bottle in your hands, lifting it to your mouth. You finished the whole thing before putting the bottle back on the counter.

"Gimme another one." You demanded, putting your arm around Wooyoung's waist.

"Noona." Wooyoung grumbled, placing his hands on your shoulder. “I’m taking you home. You’re drunk.”

“Nooo~~~” You whined, pouting. “Come onnnn.”

Wooyoung sighed and reluctantly handed the bartender more money. “Just one more, please.” He ordered.

As soon as he walked back to you, you wrapped your arms around his neck and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." You whispered, leaning into him.

“Shit…” Wooyoung breathed under his breath. He needed to end this now before things got out of control. He couldn't handle it, the way your face lit up, the way you leaned into him, the sweet smell of alcohol on your skin, your breath becoming heavy as you lean into him, the way your body presses against him…

He should've listened to his gut and told you to go home. Right now, his brain was screaming at him to move away from you and put space between the two of you, but his feet weren't listening to him. His body kept moving forward, like a magnet towards yours.

"Umm...yeah." He mumbled awkwardly. “We better get you home.”

"But..." You started.

"Noona." Wooyoung shook his head. "It's late and I'm not gonna let you drive home. Besides, I'm pretty sure your parents or even your sister won't be happy to find out that you came here alone and drank."

"You're probably right." You nodded before pouting. It took Wooyoung all his strength to not throw you over his shoulder. "You're still a buzzkiller."

“I know, I know. Let’s get you home.” Wooyoung agreed.

After saying your goodbyes to the rest of the group, Wooyoung guided you to the car. On the way to your house, you were almost asleep in the passenger seat. Wooyoung had to carry you to the door and place you inside the house. He carried you to your bedroom and placed you gently on the bed. You instantly fell asleep. He turned off the lights and left you sleeping peacefully.

After sending a quick message to your sister to let her know that you were home, Wooyoung left your house to go home. He was still unsettled and distracted by the thought of being near you. He hadn't gotten the chance to ask you if you had enjoyed the night. If you liked him. Maybe you were just playing along with him to tease him. He'd have to wait until tomorrow to find out.

You woke up with the worst hangover in history. You couldn't even remember what happened yesterday. Everything seemed blurry and surreal. Your head hurt, you felt nauseous and you wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. But you also wanted to know why you were in your bed. You groaned and lifted your head up, attempting to sit up, only to hit your head back on the pillow.

"Son of a bitch." You swore angrily. "Fuck…"

Your phone rang and you answered it. "You have five minutes to tell me what the fuck you want or I'm hanging up."

You heard Wooyoung laugh on the other end. "Bad hangover, noona?"

"What did I do last night?" You groaned, wincing in pain.

"You were having fun, I guess." Wooyoung shrugged. "You drank too much, that's for sure."

"Did I pass out somewhere?" You asked curiously.

"No but you nearly fell asleep in my car." Wooyoung said. "I brought you home though."

"Thanks for saving my ass." You chuckled.

"Don't mention it." Wooyoung replied. "I'd do anything for you, noona."

"Anything?" You asked with a teasing tone.

"Oh no. What's going on in that head of yours?" Wooyoung joked.

"Coffeeeeee pleaseeee." You whined into the phone. "Now."

"Yeah, okay. Ten minutes. Go shower or something while you wait." Wooyoung chuckled.

After hanging up, you laid back down on your bed and closed your eyes. You felt like shit and Wooyoung was right, you did drink too much. You should've stopped after three beers, but you wanted to keep drinking. And when someone buys you more alcohol, it becomes really easy to continue drinking, even though you feel like shit.

When you looked at yourself in the mirror, you barely recognized yourself. Your hair was messed up, there were smudges of mascara and eyeliner around your eyes, your lips were chapped and there was dried saliva stuck on your teeth. You look disgusting and definitely not presentable. As much as you hated to admit it, you needed a shower. Badly.

You went to the bathroom and hopped into the shower. The hot water helped ease some of your headache, but didn't make the hungover feeling any better. You took your time washing your hair, shampooing and conditioning it. You massaged your scalp, closing your eyes and letting out a small moan of pleasure as the warm water poured onto your skin.

After showering, you threw on some clean sweats and a t-shirt. Then you made your way downstairs. You found Wooyoung talking to Aimee, your younger sister, in the kitchen. They were laughing at something.

"Where's my coffee, Wooyoungie?" You called out, walking towards them.

"Here, you drunk." Wooyoung slid the coffee cup to you as you settled yourself on the stool. "Do you feel any better?"

"I feel like shit." You mumbled, resting your head on the countertop.

"Awhh." Wooyoung pouted, trying to hide his smile.

"Who told you to drink so much, eonni?" Your younger sister shook her head. "Let me guess. Jaehyun broke up with you?"

"I broke up with him." You retorted.

"And you needed a big, stiff drink." Aimee smirked.

"You have no idea how true that is." You laughed.

"Hey, good riddance. That relationship was doomed to fail anyway." Aimee stated. "While I'm happy that you dumped him, I'm a bit sad because Jaehyun was such a gorgeous man."

"Hey, I'm a gorgeous man!" Wooyoung pointed at himself.

Aimee raised her eyebrows. "Keep telling yourself that, Wooyoung."

"I am gorgeous." Wooyoung proclaimed.

"Whatever, loser." Aimee rolled her eyes.

You couldn't help but think that Wooyoung and your sister looked cute together. They were the same age and they always seemed to get along well whenever they spent time together. It wasn't surprising to see that they both found each other attractive, despite their differences in appearance. Their personality and sense of humor made up for it.

A part of you wanted someone as caring and funny as Wooyoung in your life, but then again, your luck in men wasn't great and you never found anyone who could treat you right. It didn't stop you from dreaming though. One day, you promised yourself, you would meet someone and he would change your mind about love and relationships. You wouldn't settle anymore, you would wait for the right guy to come along.

"Well, I hope you feel better." Wooyoung spoke up, breaking you out of your thoughts. "Do you have any plans for the day?"

"Nothing much. Probably go hang out with your brother or something. But I'm kind of tired and want to go back to sleep." You admitted, rubbing your temples.

"Why don't you just stay in today?" Aimee suggested. "I have to head to the office today anyway so I'll pick up dinner after I get off."

"Are you sure?" You asked, tilting your head.

"Yeah, it's fine." Aimee smiled. "Plus, I'd rather have a girls night with my older sister."

"I'm not included?" Wooyoung pouted.

Aimee rolled her eyes. "You're not a girl, you weirdo." She shook her head. "Besides, don't you have to go or something? Don't you have work?"

"Of course, what do you take me for?" Wooyoung laughed, shaking his head.

"Go away, you two." You moaned, head on the countertop. "Your yapping isn't helping my hangover."

Wooyoung grinned widely. "How dare you."

You reached for the coffee and gulped it down quickly. When you finished, you yawned. "I'm gonna crash now." You mumbled. "Thanks for everything, Wooyoungie. Now go to work, make that money."

"Anytime, noona." Wooyoung gave you a hug before leaving the room.

As soon as he was gone, Aimee pulled you into a tight hug. "Good job dumping Jaehyun." She whispered into your ear. "I'm so proud of you, sis."

"He deserves it." You sighed. "How can someone say they like you but then say you're not good enough for him? What kind of bullshit is that?"

"You're right." Aimee nodded. "You deserve someone better."

You hugged your sister back tightly. "Do you have any single friends? Or ex-boyfriends?" You asked hopefully.

"No eonni, I don't." Aimee laughed. "But you and I both know someone who's single."

"Who?" You inquired.

"Wooyoung, duhhhh." Aimee teased.

"Wooyoung?" You repeated, slightly taken aback. "Our Wooyoung? The Wooyoung who just left our house? The cutie-pie Wooyoung who's been our childhood friend for years? That Wooyoung?"

"That Wooyoung." Aimee giggled.

"Weird." You frowned. "I mean…of course he's single. But why? He's such a great catch."

"Maybe he's waiting for the perfect girl." Aimee suggested.

"I don't believe that for one second." You shook your head. "But if he is, I'm sure he'll meet her soon."

"Or maybe he already has." Aimee mused, a smile on her face. "Maybe he's already found that special one and she just doesn't know it yet."

"Mhmm." You hummed in agreement.

"Let's hope he doesn't have to wait too long." Your sister shook her head and grabbed her purse, making her way to the front door. "I'm heading to work now. I'll see you later, okay eonni?"

"Sure thing." You waved goodbye to her.

"Text me what you want for dinner." She instructed and you replied with a thumbs up.

You watched as your sister left the house, shutting the door behind her. You made your way to the couch and sunk into the cushions, curling up into a ball. You closed your eyes and let out a sigh, wondering if your day would get any better.

For reasons unknown, you woke up feeling incredibly horny. You had no idea why this would be happening. You haven't gotten laid in quite a few months and when you were still with Jaehyun, the both of you never even had sex. So it was extremely strange to wake up feeling this way.

Okay maybe it was that steamy movie you watched while you were indisposed on the couch. Maybe watching the couple undress and finally having sex made you yearn for some action of your own.

It had to be. Yeah.

You glanced at the clock. It was only noon and you had an entire day ahead of you. Grabbing your phone, you noticed the text messages from Wooyoung that you missed from a few hours ago. Instead of replying to him, you just decided to call him.

"Noona?" Wooyoung greeted, answering the phone immediately. "You good?"

"Yeah, I just woke up again." You huffed. "Are you done with work?"

"Yeah, I'm heading over to your place right now."

"Why?" You questioned, sitting upright. "It's only noon."

"Because you didn't answer Aimee's calls or texts so she got worried." Wooyoung explained. "I felt bad and offered to check on you. Are you okay, noona?"

"How far are you?"

"Pulling up right now. I'm hanging up."

In a few seconds, you heard the keypad to your front door opening and Wooyoung walked inside, taking his shoes off at the entrance. God, he looked so handsome standing there with his slightly disheveled hair, his crisp white shirt and jeans combo making him look casual but still appealing.

You wondered what his body looked like under his clothes and suddenly your imagination started to run wild. Nonono, you couldn't think like that. He was your best friend's younger brother! No matter how attracted you were to him, he wasn't someone you should be sleeping with. You liked him like a little brother and nothing else.

At least, you hoped so.

You pushed the unwanted thoughts out of your mind and smiled as Wooyoung made his way over to you. "Are you okay?" He asked, crouching beside you. "Hangover still bad?"

"Not too bad." You shook your head. "Did you bring me anything?"

"Yeah, here." Wooyoung handed you a bottle of water and some ibuprofen pills. "Take these. You'll feel better in no time."

"Thanks, Wooyoung." You sighed, leaning against him. "How was work?"

"It went pretty well. Hongjoong told me to go home. When your sister called me, he told me to just leave and take care of you."

You nodded. "Sounds like a good friend."

"Definitely." Wooyoung chuckled. "Do you need anything else?"

"I do but I'm not sure if it's something you could help me with." You muttered.

"What's up?" Wooyoung tilted his head. "You could tell me."

You shook your head, your cheeks slightly heating up. "Nononono, you don't need to-"

"Shhh…" Wooyoung placed a finger on your lips, silencing you instantly. "Look, I won't judge you, noona. Whatever you want, I'll try my best to give it to you."

"That's not-"

"Just relax and talk to me." Wooyoung said softly. "Please?"

You looked up at him and thought for a moment. What exactly did you want from him? Would asking him to pleasure you turn things between you and him sexual? Would he actually agree to do it? Did you really want to ask him?

All these questions raced through your mind and you bit your lip nervously. In the end, you decided to throw caution to the wind and see where this would lead you. If it ended badly, you could always cut ties with Wooyoung and go back to being just best friends.

Hopefully.

"Don't judge me okay? Please don't hate me." You breathed, looking away from Wooyoung and staring at the ground. "This might sound weird and I'm sorry if it does."

"I won't hate you, noona." Wooyoung assured you. "Whatever you need, just ask me."

The silence stretched on until you began to wonder if Wooyoung was going to speak. Then he raised an eyebrow at you and nodded once. He leaned forward slightly, giving you space to talk.

"Well...I woke up feeling...fuck, this is embarrassing to say." You huffed. "So here goes."

You took a deep breath and swallowed, telling yourself to just spit it out. You took another deep breath and braced yourself for what you were about to say.

"I..." You paused for a few moments, trying to find the right words to say. "I've been horny all morning. And I've never wanted someone so badly in my life."

Wooyoung gaped at you for a moment before covering his mouth with his hand, stifling his laughter. You stared at him in shock, your face turning bright red. Why did you just admit that? Of course he was gonna laugh. Why did you just open up to him?

"See? I knew it sounded weird!" You buried your face in your hands in embarrassment. "And now I've embarrassed myself even more."

"Calm down, noona." Wooyoung chuckled. "There's no need to be embarrassed."

You felt his hands softly gripping your thigh, stroking your skin lightly. You looked down at him and bit your lower lip anxiously. You weren't sure if he meant what he was doing as comforting or sexual.

"Sorry, I just..." You huffed, shaking your head. "I shouldn't be saying this. I shouldn't be thinking about this."

"I know, but-"

"-I'm just saying." You cut him off. "I'm not usually like this. Like, ever. And I can't believe I'm talking to you about this."

"Tell me what you want, noona." Wooyoung gently coaxed, stroking your thighs once more. "Tell me, show me how to please you."

You bit your lip nervously, feeling Wooyoung's eyes fixated on yours. You stared back at him, unsure of what to say. At the same time, you also felt empowered knowing that you could trust him with this. After all, you were opening up to him because you wanted him to know what you wanted. Right?

Right?

You gulped. "Fuck, I can't believe I'm doing this. Wooyoung..."

"Hmm? Tell me, noona." Wooyoung spoke softly, his voice somehow calming you down. "Show me how you want me to pleasure you."

"Wooyoung..." You whimpered, wanting him to kiss you but also not wanting to risk kissing him. Kissing him would make things...complicated.

"...say it. Just say it." Wooyoung repeated, running his fingers up and down your thigh. "Say whatever you want. Don't be afraid. Say it out loud."

You bit your lower lip and furrowed your brows. Fuck it all. You were just gonna go for it. You were just gonna fuck around with Wooyoung and see where this would take you. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

You grabbed his hand and placed it under your sweatpants, letting him fondle your already moist pussy through your underwear. "Fuck, I need you to finger me, eat me out. Touch me, make me come."

"Let's get rid of your sweatpants first." He let out a small chuckle. "Let's do this properly."

You let out a small moan as you felt him tug on your sweatpants, pushing them down below your hips. Your panties came next and after that, you were completely naked from the waist down. On his knees, he grabbed your hips and pulled you to sit on the edge of the couch cushions, positioning himself directly in front of you.

"Oh my god, Wooyoung..." You gasped, feeling his lips trailing small kisses up your thighs. You reached down and wrapped your fingers around his hair, encouraging him to continue.

"Tell me, noona." He asked softly, planting small kisses on your inner thighs. "What do you want?"

By no means was Wooyoung inexperienced when it came to sex. He'd gone out with quite a few women, which gave him plenty of experience. But the fact that he wanted you to tell him what to do made you feel empowered. Not only was he giving you what you wanted, he was listening to you as well. And you wanted him to know that you enjoyed having him do those things to you.

Your breathing quickened as Wooyoung continued to explore your body, kissing and licking along the sides of your thighs, brushing your folds with his tongue. You moaned as he trailed kisses along your inner thigh and began teasing your clit with his tongue. He was fucking amazing at it, using his tongue to flick the sensitive nub. With every pass, your moans grew louder and you gripped his hair tighter, encouraging him to do even more.

"Fuck..." You whispered hoarsely. "Please don't stop, Wooyoung."

Wooyoung replied with a smile. "Keep talking, noona. I want to hear what you're saying. Want to know if you're feeling good."

He continued to lick and suck on your clit while simultaneously teasing your hole with his tongue, slowly drawing your arousal to its peak. You kept your hands around his head, tugging at his hair and moaning loudly as he kept pleasuring you. His fingers ran through your wetness and brought them back to his mouth, sucking and licking them clean.

Fuck, you wanted his fingers in your mouth. Wanted to lick them, suck them dry.

As if reading your mind, he lifted his fingers to your lips. "Noona, suck my fingers." He ordered.

Reluctantly, you parted your lips and closed your teeth around his digits. You sucked hard, pulling at his fingers with your mouth. He moaned in delight and tightened his grip on your hips, guiding his fingers back to your pussy.

You wiggled beneath him, letting him push one finger inside of you. The sensation of his digits stretching your insides almost made you cry out. He then inserted a second finger, adding a third one later on. His mouth never left your pussy, though, continuing to lick you mercilessly as he slid his fingers in and out of you. Every thrust was like fire coursing through your body. It was too much and you quickly began panting heavily. You could barely think straight anymore, everything but him, his touch, his hot breath on your pussy.

His tongue was magic and you could feel your orgasm building rapidly. "Oh shit...Wooyoung, oh my god."

"Are you close, noona?" He asked you in between licks.

You whimpered, unable to form any words. All you wanted was to scream, yell out, tell him to hurry the fuck up and make you come. "Oh god...I...I can't...stop...oh god..."

Wooyoung increased his pace, sucking on your clit and rubbing his fingers against your walls. You couldn't help it. Soon enough, your orgasm hit you like a truck.

Your entire body convulsed as waves of pleasure washed over you. Your body tensed as your juices coated Wooyoung's fingers and his lips. And then you collapsed back onto the couch, gasping for air. You could feel your body shaking from your orgasm and Wooyoung grinned proudly at you.

When your heartbeat returned to normal, you sat up and patted Wooyoung on the cheek. "Wow, Wooyoung. That was incredible."

"Did I do good, noona? Are you happy?" He smiled sweetly at you, patting his hand against your ass playfully.

"Mhm, I loved it." You replied, blushing. "Thank you for indulging me."

"I'll do anything you want, noona." Wooyoung assured you, wrapping his arms around you. "Whenever you want."

"That's good to know." You smiled, leaning into him. "So, wanna keep fooling around some more?"

"Is that what you want?" He asked you with a smirk. "To keep fooling around?"

"Hell yeah." You laughed. "Can we?"

"Anything for you, noona." He grinned.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a flurry of kissing. Eventually, you two had moved into the bedroom, the rest of your clothes strewn across the floor. Wooyoung's shirt and jeans were tossed to the side of the bed and you noticed that he was only wearing boxers. You stared at his abs, tracing your fingers along the line of his stomach muscles.

You kissed him deeply, knowing that kissing him was going to get complicated. But you didn't care. Who cares if things got complicated. You'll reach that hurdle eventually anyway. Right?

"My turn." You murmured against his lips. He sat on the edge of the bed as you dropped to your knees in front of him. "I wanna taste you, Wooyoung."

He moaned at your words, reaching down and running his hands through your hair. "You don't have to do this for me, noona..."

"But I want to. Please, Wooyoung?" You pleaded with him, licking your lips seductively. "Please let me taste you."

"You're not drunk, are you?" He teased, chuckling slightly.

You laughed as well, biting your bottom lip. "Nope, just trying to cure a hangover."

Wooyoung smirked. "Then taste me whenever you want, noona."

You wasted no time in sucking on his erection, wrapping your lips around him and sliding him deep into your throat. He groaned in pleasure, holding onto your hair tightly. You liked the rough feeling of his hands on your hair, like you belonged there, sucking him off.

With your free hand, you squeezed his balls gently, massaging them with your thumb. A moan escaped his lips as you slowly bobbed your head up and down, taking him deeper each time until his tip hit the back of your throat. You looked up at him and he let out another moan before grabbing onto your hair once again.

You hummed with satisfaction, knowing that he liked what you were doing to him. As you licked and sucked on his dick, you ran your fingers along his shaft, lightly playing with his sack and stroking his head. It wasn't long before he was pushing his hips up, forcing his cock further down your throat. This excited you and you held his cock tight, not wanting him to pull away.

"You're such a good girl." He praised you.

You giggled. "Good girls are rewarded."

Wooyoung chuckled. "Alright then, good girl. Be rewarded."

As soon as he said that, you felt his warm seed coat your throat. You gulped a little at the feeling of him coming down your throat and used your hands to massage his shaft and testicles, making sure to take every last drop of cum out of him. When he was finished, he collapsed onto the bed, breathing heavily. You crawled up next to him, placing soft kisses on his chest and shoulders.

You weren't satisfied yet. So you proceeded to start sucking on his nipples, causing him to moan in pleasure. "I want more, Wooyoung." You breathed.

"How much more?" He asked you teasingly. “You're so insatiable, aren't you?”

"You've got all day to please me." You responded slyly. "All night."

Wooyoung chuckled as you straddled him, grinding your wet pussy against his cock. "Hmm...Sounds tempting, noona."

"Will you satisfy me?" You asked him, watching as his eyes darkened with lust.

"Of course." He growled, pulling you towards him as he sat up. His hands wandered over your soft skin. "Whatever you want, I'll give it to you."

His words made you shiver. You knew exactly what you wanted and now you were going to get it. And Wooyoung was going to give it to you. You could feel yourself growing moist at the thought of his big cock filling you.

"What would you like, noona?" He asked you seriously. "I'll do whatever you want."

"I want you inside me." You kissed him softly on the lips. "Give me your big cock."

"Yes, yes, baby." He groaned as you took his penis into your hands. "Put it in, noona."

You slowly slid him inside of you. "Fuuuck." You gasped. "That feels so good."

"Fuck yeah." Wooyoung moaned, staring into your eyes lovingly. "Feels good, right?"

"Mmhmm." You nodded, pressing your breasts against his chest as he thrust his hips upward, driving himself deeper into you.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, locking your ankles together behind his back. The position felt amazing. You could easily grind your pussy against his dick as he pushed it in and out of you.

"It feels so good, noona." He moaned, resting his forehead against yours.

"Me too." You agreed, your fingers tangling in his hair. "Every inch feels so fucking good."

Wooyoung kissed you deeply, nibbling on your lower lip. "I'm glad, noona." He whispered, nipping on your earlobe. "God, you're beautiful. You're taking me in so well, noona. Feels so damn good."

Your body was starting to heat up again and you moaned when he bit down on your neck. "Ah! Ah!" You yelled out, closing your eyes and clenching around his shaft. "Oh, fuck."

"Tell me, noona." Wooyoung urged, licking your neck. "Say what you need."

"Ohhh, fuck." You cried out, digging your nails into his back. "Wooyoung...mmm..please..."

Wooyoung released your neck and slowly began thrusting his hips up, sliding his cock in and out of you. "Say it, noona." He moaned, lowering his head and suckling your breast. "Say what you want."

You pulled his hair roughly, moaning. "More, please, more..."

"You like this, don't you, noona?" He asked you, chuckling lightly. "Don't worry. I won't stop."

You shook your head, looking into his eyes. "No, please don't stop." You whined. "Just keep fucking me."

He thrust harder, sending shockwaves throughout your body. "I'll fuck you all day and all night, noona. Every single second. No matter when and where you want it, I'll give it to you." He promised you, rocking his hips faster and faster. "I want to feel your tight pussy around my cock. Tighten up around me, noona."

And you did just that. You tightened around his cock and moaned loudly, unable to contain your pleasure. "Oh god, fuck, Wooyoung...that's so good."

You both started moaning louder and louder as your orgasms hit you. And you didn't want it to end. Not now, not ever. And you swore that it wouldn't. You continued to rock your hips back and forth, wanting him to stay buried inside of you forever.

He slowed his thrusts only to position you onto your hands and knees. He grabbed hold of your hips, pushing them back against his waist as he rammed himself into you again.

"Holy shit." He exclaimed, panting heavily. "I can't believe how tight you are."

You whimpered as he gripped your hips tighter. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" He mumbled.

He ran a hand along your naked back, the other holding your hip. You closed your eyes and just enjoyed the sensation of being fucked, completely and utterly taken. Your body sagged against the mattress, pushing your ass back towards him and giving him even more access to your pussy. He couldn't get enough of you. You rocked your hips, thrusting back against him, meeting each of his hard thrusts with your own.

"Jesus Christ, noona." Wooyoung cursed under his breath. "This feels so good. So goddamn good."

"Do it, Wooyoung." You panted. "Fill me with your cum. Fill me with your cum."

He leaned forward and kissed and sucked on the back of your neck and shoulder as he thrust his hips up into you, emptying his entire load into your eager pussy. His entire body tensed as he came, the waves of his orgasm radiating through him. With every wave of his climax, you came closer to climaxing again and the feeling was mind-blowing. You'd never felt anything like it. You could feel his hot seed oozing out of your pussy and covering your walls. His cock stayed buried inside of you for a few moments longer before finally slipping out.

You collapsed on the bed, gasping for air as you tried to catch your breath. "Wooyoung...god, Wooyoung..."

He collapsed next to you, running his fingers through your hair. "Baby, you okay?" He asked you, concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You nodded, grinning happily. "Didn't expect you to cum three times though."

"I didn't expect you to cum three times either." He smiled.

"Yeah, now I'm exhausted." You sighed.

"It's alright, baby. You can rest if you want." He assured you. "I've got you."

"Okay." You nodded, snuggling up close to him.

You quickly fell asleep in his arms, listening to his steady heartbeat.

The moonlight shone through the curtains and you groggily opened your eyes. For a brief moment, you thought you heard something but shook your head. No, there wasn't anyone else in the room. Only you and Wooyoung.

You yawned, looking down at Wooyoung who was lying beside you. A blanket covered both of your bodies and he snored peacefully against your chest.

You went and did it. You fucked your best friend's younger brother. Well, sort of. More like he fucked you but still.

But you didn't regret it. In fact, it was one of the best nights of your life. You didn't know why but something about it felt natural.

"Noona..." Wooyoung mumbled against your skin, interrupting your thoughts.

You glanced down at him, feeling his soft lips on your neck. He was facing away from you, sleeping soundly. Your heart fluttered as you brushed your fingertips across his back. Oh my god, you thought. You really love this man. You loved him way more than you should have.

Maybe you'd been in love with him this whole time and just now noticed it. Maybe he was attracted to you as well but chose not to admit it. Or maybe you're delusional. It was possible.

Whatever the case, you couldn't deny the strong connection you shared with Wooyoung. Whether you ended up dating each other or not, you knew you wouldn't regret tonight.

At least, not yet.

With a sigh, you tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear. You looked at him again, feeling yourself growing warmer.

He was perfect. Asleep or awake, the boy was gorgeous.

"Wooyoung?"

"Hmm?" He sleepily moaned, shifting slightly in your embrace.

"Are you still sleeping?" You asked, worried. "Shouldn't you be heading home?"

"It's late." He mumbled, snuggling closer to your body and closing his eyes. "And I feel comfortable here. Just let me spend the night."

"What if my sister comes home?" You frowned. "Do you want her to catch us in bed together?"

"She won't. She told me earlier that she was going to her boyfriend's when I offered to take care of you." He chuckled lightly.

You ran your fingers through his hair. "And you didn't bother to tell me this?"

"If I did, you would have told me to go home. We wouldn't be having this conversation right now." He sighed, cupping your face. "Let's stay like this, okay? At least until morning."

"Fine." You huffed, wrapping your arms around him. "I'm not exactly complaining."

"Good." Wooyoung kissed your forehead before pressing his lips to yours gently.

"Wooyoung, what are we now? Because our relationship has definitely changed after today." You mused, tracing the curve of his jawline with your fingertip.

"We're more than just friends now." He said lightly, running his fingers down your arm. "There's nothing stopping us from dating now. You know this, right? We're both adults. What's stopping us?"

What was stopping you? Other than that tiny voice in the back of your head. You weren't ready to give up the friendship you shared with Wooyoung just yet. Dating him would complicate things way too much. You weren't ready to deal with a breakup or hurting him.

"Y/N," He called out and you couldn't help but bite your lower lip. That was the first time he called you by your name and not noona. "I want to be with you. I don't want to hide anything from you anymore. I want you to know everything about me. I want you to see me and not see just a kid that I used to be."

"Wooyoung..." Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. "How long have you felt this way?"

"Since forever." He sighed, moving to kiss your nose. "I've liked you for as long as I can remember. Always wanting to be near you, watch you, listen to you speak."

"Then why didn't you say anything?" You pouted, lowering your head to look at him.

"Why should I?" He shrugged. "If you don't feel the same way, then I wouldn't want to pressure you into something you aren't comfortable doing."

"Wooyoung, I-"

"-want to date you, Y/N." He cut you off, grinning mischievously at you. "Not just for sex, although I want that too, but because I actually want to date you."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Huh?"

"I want to take you out. Spend time with you. Be with you. All the time. Not as just friends or you being my older brother's friend. I want to be with you. Love you." He lowered his voice, nibbling on your bottom lip. "Just you."

A surge of warmth flooded your body. "Really?" You asked quietly, smiling shyly at him. "You mean that?"

"Of course, baby.” He laughed lightly. "Who else do you think would say such stupid things to you?"

"Oh, I don't know. Some guy named Wooyoung." You quipped back.

"Ha ha, very funny." He groaned, cupping your cheek before capturing your lips in his.

"Wooyoung..." You whispered against his lips. "You know I love you, right?"

"Since when?" He whispered back, leaning forward and pressing his lips to your neck. "Noona, why haven't you said it to me sooner?"

"Because I wasn't sure if I loved you." You admitted, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze. "But now I am."

"Ahhh..." Wooyoung moaned softly. "I love you too, Y/N."

"Wait, I didn't hear you." You laughed, grabbing hold of his collar. "Say it again."

"Noona...I love you." He repeated himself, gazing at you with adoring eyes. "I love you."

You kissed him deeply, loving how responsive he was to your kisses. His hands tangled in your hair as he deepened the kiss, leaving trails of fire on your lips. Suddenly, you pulled away from him and stared into his eyes. "I love you too, Wooyoung."

"Fuck, Y/N..." He groaned, covering his mouth with his hand. "My hyung is gonna kill me."

"Don't worry about him." You laughed. "He'll be happy that his best friend and his younger brother finally found happiness together."

"You really love me right?" He asked, his lips on your shoulder.

"More than you'll ever know." You replied softly, staring into his dark eyes. "I know I complain about my bad luck in men and that I just wanted someone to give me proper love and care. Guess he was right in front of me, all along."

"I'll make sure to treat you with love and care from now on." Wooyoung promised, pressing another kiss to your neck.

"Promise?" You giggled, biting his bottom lip.

"Absolutely." He smirked at you. "Y/N, you're the only woman I will ever want."

"Hmmm." You hummed, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Then let's just stay in bed all night...hmm?"

"Oh yeah, you're absolutely right." Wooyoung grinned, bringing you even closer to him. "We should stay in bed.”

[my-castles-crumbling]

soup - @jegulus-microfic - word count: 614 - for @starchasersunseeker

Regulus sat at the cafe, staring at the laptop in front of him, willing words to magically appear on the screen. If only. It would make being an author much easier of he didn't have to....write.

He looked around the small restaurant, trying to find inspiration that clearly wasn't there when his eyes fell on a man a few tables away.

The man stood out not only because he was gorgeous - his tan skin and dark, messy hair made Regulus stare appreciatively for longer than was probably respectful - but also because of the book he was reading. Regulus's book.

It had just been released a few months ago, and Regulus was proud to say it'd actually sold a few copies. Four thousand, seven hundred-thirteen, last time he'd checked.

He felt a small surge of satisfaction to see the beautiful man reading his book that he'd put so much work and emotion into.

At least, until he saw the man scoff visibly at a page, looking almost disgusted.

He tried to stay at his table. He tried to focus on eating his soup and writing his story. But he felt inexplicably irritated at the man for scoffing at his pride and joy. So he stood and walked over.

"Good book?" he asked as he approached, trying desperately not to seem awkward. He didn't usually approach men in cafes.

He expected the man to say no, of course. But he was surprised when he looked up and nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! God, it's great! And it's based on a true story! Have you read it?" His eyes sparkled behind his glasses as he asked, and Regulus felt his stomach swoop a bit.

"Erm...once," Regulus murmured.

"Don't spoil it, then," the man demanded, grinning. "But now I have someone to ask! How did you feel about this part?" He pushed the book to Regulus, who skimmed over the chapter he was on. "I just...I feel as if it's not realistic, you know?"

Regulus stared at him, then back at the book. "Not...realistic?"

"Yeah," the man nodded. "The main character, Arcturus? He really doesn't realize how much of a decent guy he is! And I just feel like he must know, at least a little!"

Regulus blinked, fighting to keep his mouth from popping open. Arcturus was based on himself. "Arcturus...he did a lot of bad things," he muttered, slowly sitting in the chair across from the man. "He...hurt people. Before he left his family."

"Right," the man nodded again, and Regulus felt almost disappointed at his agreement. But then he went on. "But...he learned, you know? And, don't spoil it for me, but, if his brother's a good guy, he's got to forgive him, right?"

Regulus sucked in a small breath. "I...well, I can't spoil it for you," he murmured.

"Well...he should," the man said, as if it decided the matter.

Regulus contemplated walking away for a moment. Keeping the whole thing a secret. The book, based off of his tumultuous childhood, his guilt at how he used to worship his parents, and his reconnection with Sirius when he'd finally gotten his head out of his arse, had been such a personal thing to create, that it felt insanely vulnerable to admit to this man that he'd written it.

But he was also drawn to him. To the man who saw him as good.

"Who's it by, again?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

"Erm..." the man flipped to the inside jacket, where Regulus knew his picture lay. "It's..." And then he looked up. "It's you?" he finished, looking awestruck.

Regulus chuckled wryly. "Sorry. I know you asked for no spoilers."

[heartseungs-archive]

better than gold | l.hc

genre ➳  historical au (early 19th century), fluff, angst, friends to lovers pairings ➳ nobleman!haechan x fem!reader word count ➳ 16.4k (added more after proofreading...) warnings ➳ mentions of alcohol, violence (threats), classism info ➳  this is the first installment of boats against the current, an 00 line series! click here to read the other works :) 

the present: august, 1912

The grandfather clock's heavy toll resonates throughout your house's wooden walls, quickly shocking you awake from where you lie sleepily on your desk. It is not the first time the heavy family heirloom has done so, and despite your protests, your father insists on keeping it.

Outside, the sky is pitch black, only illuminated by the lonely moon. You hear the faint chirping of crickets from far away, and you wonder if he’ll be coming today.

As if spoken into existence, you hear a rustling below you, definitely made by something much larger than a wild rabbit. Leaning your body out of the window, you look down to see a familiar face staring back up at you.

“You’re early today,” you say.

“Will you believe me if I say I missed you too much at the party?” Despite how the darkness prevents you from seeing his expression, you know a mischievous grin decorates his lips.

Even though it definitely isn’t the first time Donghyuck has attempted to scale the walls of your home, it still makes your mouth turn dry. You watch nervously as he deftly moves from the trellis to the carved marble eaves of your window with ease of experience. Donghyuck’s definitely strong enough to hold on even if he loses his footing, and smart enough not to get himself killed. Still, he’s usually slightly tipsy from his parties, and you are not sure if it is the best idea to have him climbing structures unattended in the middle of the night. Though it isn’t the brightest idea, you’re half ready to leap from the window after him if he falls.

Five minutes later, Donghyuck is standing in your bedroom, clothes and hair slightly rumpled, and a triumphant grin on his face.

The first time he had done this, you had almost been out of your mind with fear. Both for Donghyuck, and at the thought that someone could walk in at any time. Had one of the maidservants, or even worse, members of the family, discovered him here, the both of you would have been as good as dead.

No matter that Donghyuck had been your best friend and confidante from before you could even walk. In society’s eyes, you were an unmarried woman, and him a bachelor. And those two did not mix, especially not unchaperoned in a bedroom close to midnight.

“What are you thinking about?” Donghyuck has made himself comfortable by your fireplace, sinking into the armchair which he always complains is much too stiff, while you chide him for his poor posture.

You shake your head. “Nothing much. How was your week?”

“You know me, Y/N. The usual.”

The usual meaning alcohol, women and cards. The reality wasn’t as bad as you presented it to be, of course. Donghyuck wasn’t some sort of degenerate, unlike some of the men you had actually met. He was just a flirty, reckless fool with too much time on his hands, and an avid passion for red wine.

“Did any poor girl come after you this time for breaking her heart?” You inquire, amused.

“Well, I did get champagne poured on my head by a very angry woman. I think her name was Hana?” Donghyuck complains, his lips settling into a pout.

“Honestly, you should figure out by now that you can’t just flirt with women and leave them hanging. It’s not a nice thing to do, you know?” You chide slightly, but you don’t hold it against Donghyuck. He’s never given anyone false promises, making it clear that he was there for a good time. His dalliances have also never gone beyond honeyed words and occasional meals. It’s not his fault that feelings often get entangled, and unreciprocated. Still, his life would be much easier if he didn’t constantly have a string of jilted lovers out for his blood.

“But it’s fun,” Donghyuck replies nonchalantly, and you roll your eyes. “Enough about me. What has my dearest Y/N been up to?” He asks, leaning forward to hear you better.

Your shoulders sink a little, and Donghyuck immediately notices it. However, he remains silent, waiting for you to begin speaking. “I’m not sure what I could tell you, since I’m stuck in the house every day anyways. I hate to say this, but your visits are the most exciting part of my week.”

Even though that should make Donghyuck happy - he enjoys spending time with you, after all, and vice versa - he knows that isolation is taking its toll on you. He feels irrationally angry at your parents, but bites his tongue. He knows you don’t like it when he speaks ill of them, even if he knows this is unfair to you and he’s technically right.

It’s his fault, after all. If the both of you hadn’t been photographed together by that gossip newspaper, your father would likely have never lost his temper. Even if Renjun’s estate was safe, anyone could have come in during a party.

Donghyuck should have known better. Done better.

It’s been a month since you’ve been confined at home, and three weeks since Donghyuck started his weekly wall-climbing escapades. Before this, the both of you would meet almost weekly. Once your virtual house arrest started, Donghyuck found himself missing your presence, as if a hole had opened in his life with nothing to fill it.

For you, the confinement had been more mind-numbing than anything. Besides your daytime lessons, you found yourself dawdling aimlessly around the house, with little to do, and desperately missing the city.

Donghyuck notices your expression gradually get more desolate, and he immediately snaps himself out of his thoughts. He’s here to make you feel better, not act as a walking reminder of your missing freedom.

“Well, I’ll try to stay longer, then. Be grateful. Not everyone can have the honour of being in my presence for such an extended period of time,” Donghyuck states cockily, and you laugh at him.

Just like that, he’s lightened your mood, despite the sombre nature of the conversation. It’s something he does easily, coming up with a witty jab to amuse you.

You’re sorry to see Donghyuck go when he finally leaves two hours later, his face considerably less flushed after he had sobered from the alcohol. You had also forced him to down two glasses of water and some biscuits, so he wouldn’t wake up tomorrow with a splitting headache. Even stuck at home, you want to do what you can to care for Donghyuck’s well-being. At least his house isn’t that large of a distance away from yours.

Had this been three years ago, your parents would have allowed him to stay over in a heartbeat. Now, he’s more like some sort of fugitive, every interaction with Donghyuck reduced to clandestine meetings.

Still, times change so very quickly, shifting like quicksand. You just pray Donghyuck and yourself won’t get swallowed in and lose each other along the way.

the past: september, 1897

Donghyuck doesn’t like crying people.

He would rather his classmate throw a tantrum and kick him, than cry in his face. He decides that he especially doesn’t like girls who sob quietly and sniffle afterwards, refusing to speak to him for the rest of the day. It makes Donghyuck feel bad, and that’s his least favourite feeling.

He wants to say that he didn’t mean to spill milk all over your new satin dress, but he supposes he did mean it if he was the one who decided to start running around the playroom. Donghyuck thinks you might be even more upset if you found out he told a lie to you. The teacher looks like she’s at a loss, and Donghyuck feels as if he needs to take matters into his own hands, and make amends.

Just so you don’t cry again and make Donghyuck feel guilty, or at least that’s what he tells himself.

The drawing that Donghyuck hands to you twenty minutes later is colourful and messy, almost symbolic of the boy sitting across of you.

“I did this for you. I’m sorry for ruining your dress,” he mumbles, looking down nervously at his sock-clad feet. Pretty Y/N, it says, underneath a clumsily-drawn stick figure of you. And in the far corner of the paper lies another figure, almost as if exiled. Stupid Donghyuck is scribbled next to a drawing of himself, deliberately made much uglier with downturned eyebrows and a jagged mouth. Your eyes widen at his description of himself. The teacher said that was a bad word, you can’t help but think.

Despite your tear-stained cheeks, a little smile pokes out from the corner of your lips. Still, you don’t say anything, causing Donghyuck’s heart to begin speeding up in nervousness. Unbeknownst to himself, he is anxiously tapping his feet on the ground, waiting for you to respond.

“I…like the drawing. And I’m sorry your milk was spilt,” you mutter to yourself, but Donghyuck’s keen earns pick it up. He smiles a toothy grin at you, happy to be forgiven. Across the classroom, your teacher watches fondly, smiling to herself. The both of you spend the rest of the afternoon together, after you ask Donghyuck if you can borrow his pencils to add to the drawing.

From that day on, you and Donghyuck are inseparable. Donghyuck is almost like a magnet glued to you, following you around wherever you go. He’s the one to both steal your snacks and share them with you, the one who teases you but also hits another boy for making you cry.

Your parents eventually recognise the little boy who walks out of class with you every day, hand in hand.

“Who is this, Y/N?” Your mother asks sweetly, leaning down to match your heights.

“He’s my friend. Donghyuck.” Donghyuck knows to bow politely despite his young age, and you can tell from the slight smile on your mother’s face that she’s already pleased with him.

‘Would Donghyuck like to come over for lunch today?” Your father asks.

“We have ice cream. Our cook used to work at an ice cream parlor,” you whisper conspiratorially in Donghyuck’s ear. His eyes widen immediately, and he looks at you eagerly. Ice cream is one of Donghyuck’s favourite foods, but he’s rarely allowed to have it.

“Well, then I guess it’s settled. The both of you can sit in the back with the nanny.”

The kindly-looking woman who is Donghyuck’s nanny helps the both of you into the car. You still remember the first day you had met her, where you laughed at Donghyuck for needing a nanny to follow him around.

“Don’t your parents pick you up from school, Donghyuck?”

“They’re very busy with their business. My nanny is the one who spends time with me at home,” Donghyuck had mumbled, looking down at his hands. His expression was strangely sorrowful for that of a seven-year-old boy.

“Well, you can come over after school, if you want. I’m sure your nanny will agree.”

And that marked the start of countless sun-lit afternoons spent at your family home, until Donghyuck became a regular, fixed presence in your life even as the both of you grew up.

february, 1908

You could not wait for this night to end.

The idea of a debutante ball was glamorous and had drawn you in at first. After all, it sounded like a dream. A ball celebrating your transition to eighteen years of age, from child to adult. You had spent the months before devoting time to lessons to prepare, endless hours given to ballroom dancing and etiquette.

However, the long-awaited night itself had passed by in a rapid blur of conversations with strangers whose names you did not remember, and dances that left you dizzy and slightly breathless. You had missed out on dinner because of the constriction of your dress, and it left you starving two hours later.

You muttered a polite excuse to the group that you were standing with, making a beeline for the gilded doors leading towards the balcony. You had expected more from alcohol when trying it for the first time, but the champagne had only left an uncomfortable flush in your cheeks that was quickly cooled by the night air.  Growing up had been a little disappointing, if you could say so yourself.

“There you are.” The intrusion of someone else’s voice causes you to jump in shock before you quickly relax once you realise who it is.

Donghyuck was dressed in a fine suit, tailored neatly to his lean figure. Still, he would probably outgrow it before the year ended. Within the past two years, Donghyuck had grown rapidly, now over half a head taller than you, his shoulders widening much too quickly. His speaking voice had faded into a low honey timbre but retained some of its childish cadences, especially when he got excited. You almost didn’t recognise his voice at first, considering the last time you heard it was much too long ago.

“I thought you weren’t coming.” Donghyuck’s arrival at your debutante ball is a pleasant surprise, considering his family had embarked on a grand tour of Europe just a few months ago.

By right, he should have been in Florence at this very moment. You hadn’t expected him to return until next summer, instead having to fill the Donghyuck-sized gap in your life with his postcards and your carefully written letters. Telephoning was difficult, especially when Donghyuck was constantly travelling from province to town to city.

Looking at your best friend properly now, Donghyuck seems slightly different, older. The way he carries himself is more confident, as if he’s at ease with himself. He’s grown up, you realise, and self-consciousness overtakes you. Maybe you still look like a child next to him, unsurely dangling on the precipice between maturity and childishness.

“Do you really think I would miss your debutante for anything? I just need to join them back in Vienna next month.” His voice is painfully familiar, but hearing it in person is so much better than over the phone.

You felt Donghyuck’s absence more than you allowed yourself to acknowledge, you realise. Having him next to you makes it easier to breathe, even if your corset is much too tight.

“I missed seeing you, you know,” Donghyuck says, and you turn to him, breath hitching slightly. The both of you rarely exchange any terms of affection, if any at all. The last time you told Donghyuck you missed him was perhaps over a decade ago, when he had been sick and missed coming to preparatory school for a few days.

You hope there aren’t any eavesdroppers in the vicinity who might misunderstand. Within your own private circles, you and Donghyuck are safe. Almost everyone knows the both of you have been attached at the hip since young, and no one jumps to conclusions. But here, with the curious, judging eyes of strangers? You cannot help but be scared, for both yourself and Donghyuck. Still, you nod, a silent acknowledgement of Donghyuck’s statement.

Just then, you hear the faint sounds of applause and cheering coming from the ballroom, and you realise the clock has just struck midnight.

“Happy birthday, Y/N.” Donghyuck is the first to wish you, ahead of your family. He looks slightly nervous as he pulls something out from his jacket pocket, and you look over at him curiously.

“I got you a present while I was in France. It reminded me of you,” he murmurs, and the sight suddenly reminds you of that exact moment in kindergarten when he first handed you that drawing.

The blue velvet box is sleek and elegant, inlaid with mother-of-pearl. It opens neatly to reveal a matching bracelet and necklace, a little sun charm fashioned in gold and diamond dangling from the end of both. You don’t miss the symbolism of it, and look up at Donghyuck.

“It’s lovely. Can you put it on for me?” Donghyuck nods, and the air feels strangely tense, charged with an unfamiliar energy. His hands are gentle as he places the necklace gently around your neck, only fumbling slightly before it's set in place. The cool metal is jarring against the warmth of your skin, and you shiver slightly, though you’re not sure if it's from the metal or from Donghyuck’s fingers accidentally brushing against the nape of your neck. He moves to your wrist then, and your eyes are drawn to his cuff links.

They are in the exact same design as the jewellery he gifted you, just slightly smaller. He did that on purpose, you realise, and notice the mirth in his eyes. No one will notice, unless they look closely at both you and Donghyuck.

It feels intimate, like a shared secret between the both of you.

A small proof of your friendship with him, for you to know, even if no one else does.

He finally steps away from you once the bracelet is secured, and you lift it up to observe it carefully. Despite the lack of light, the pendant gleams brightly, almost as if imbued with its own glow, a sun in itself. A little piece, a reminder of Donghyuck, to carry around wherever you go.

It had simply been a lucky coincidence that the debutante ball fell on the exact day of your birthday. However, looking at Donghyuck now, standing next to you on the balcony, you’re suddenly infinitely grateful for the stroke of luck that allowed it to happen.

march, 1908

Donghyuck absolutely detested carriage rides, especially when they were with someone whose presence he did not enjoy.

There were still five more hours to Vienna, but Donghyuck already felt exhausted at the idea of what he would have to endure once he reached. The excitement of the grand tour had been diminished by the ever-looming presence of his parents, and he knew that their demands would only increase once he returned home. After all, he would be formally considered an adult.

He decides to stare absentmindedly out the window, at a dazzling landscape of white and green. Donghyuck’s attention inadvertently drifts to the entire reason he had even left in the first place.

It had not been easy to convince his parents to allow him to leave halfway through their tour of Florence, especially when the city had been the location for many of his father’s meetings. Meetings where Donghyuck’s presence had been required. However, once introductions had passed, Donghyuck found himself no different from a piece of furniture, more ornamental than functional in nature.

Of course, his parents were unaware of the true reason Donghyuck so desperately wished to return home.

He had found the opportunity when his father needed documents delivered to their home address, and someone to approve said documents. Donghyuck had volunteered with little hesitation, even if it meant rushing a ten-day journey within four. He had little sleep, both from moving from train to train and forcing himself to keep awake to finish the work he had promised his father.

His fatigue seemed to melt away, however, when he saw you in that pearl-white ballgown and matching gloves, hair pinned in a chignon with feathers interspersed in between.

The delight in your eyes when you saw Donghyuck made him feel as if every single snide comment made by his father meant nothing, minuscule compared to the faint smile on your face as he placed the necklace around your neck.

Donghyuck had been hesitant at the atelier, unsure if it was too much. Perhaps you didn’t want a gift so clearly associated with him, even if the both of you were close. He was grateful now, however, and thought that the sun pendant looked so much more beautiful on you than it ever did on him.

He found it strange that before your debutante, he had been fine with just exchanging postcards and letters detailing your days. Months had been spent like this from city to city, as he took in the sights and sounds of a place so very different from home.

However, the memory of your presence now remained fresh in his mind, and Donghyuck found your absence even more noticeable. As far as Donghyuck knew, you had never been to another country, much less a separate continent. You would have taken in the architecture with starry eyes, and dragged Donghyuck around with you to savour as many cuisines as possible.

He decides to close his eyes, and pretend that you are sitting in the same cabin across from him, travelling together.

may, 1909

You are nineteen when everything comes crashing down.

“You should thank me, Lee Donghyuck. I just saved your life.”

‘I could have handled that on my own,” Donghyuck mutters petulantly, and you throw a questioning glance at him. The moment he had become an eligible bachelor, Donghyuck was quick to gain the attention of many women, owing to his natural charm. Of course, he easily soaked up the attention and relished in it, quickly becoming the centre of parties.

One lady, in particular, had been notably persistent, and you almost admired her for her efforts. She had shown up consistently at every party Donghyuck had thrown or attended, staying for hours and attempting to strike up a conversation. When that was unsuccessful, she extended her reach to Renjun and Jeno. It definitely didn’t help that she seemed to appear everywhere they went.

“She would have still been tailing you if I hadn’t come,” you huff, striding into the main hall of your family estate. Donghyuck follows in after you, an amused smile on his face.

“Oh, what would I do without you, Y/N? You’re my saviour from the immense threat of overly eager noblewomen. How should I repay you?” He has a hand over his heart, sighing dramatically, and you roll your eyes at Donghyuck’s theatrics.

“One day, you’re going to regret it. If I find your cold, dead body in an alleyway because you angered the wrong person, I won’t be the one to avenge you.” The both of you walk into the familiar archway of your house, Donghyuck smiling at the familiar housemaids that make up your staff. He has already been a consistent presence since young, and most of them have seen both of you grow up together.

“Well, I think it would be more likely that you’re the murderess out for my blood-”

“Y/N. You’re home. Your parents would like to see you immediately. Apologies, Mr Lee. I’m afraid you’ll be unable to stay for lunch today.” Your senior housekeeper, Ms Kim, has a stormy expression on her face, and your eyebrows furrow in concern. Furthermore, her switch from calling Donghyuck by his formal name fills you with a sense of unease. Why doesn’t she meet his eyes?

Donghyuck looks at you, eyes questioning, but you are just as clueless as he is. Evidently, your parents must want to speak to you about something important.

“Alright. I’ll see you another day, Y/N. Also, Ms Kim, just call me Donghyuck, please. As you always do.”

His tone is casual and light, but there’s an undertone of worry.

Even though Donghyuck knows there’s no reason you would be unsafe in your own home, the atmosphere feels strangely heavy suddenly, foreboding. Ms Kim remains silent as Donghyuck strolls back the way he just came in, and that only causes your panic to rise further.

“Your parents are waiting in the sitting room, Miss,” she states lowly, before quickly rushing off.

You’re equal parts curious and scared as you make your way up the marble stairs.

“Y/N, darling, you’re here. Take a seat.” Your mother’s term of endearment when she sees you come in allows your heart to lighten up a little. But even then, worry is evident in the set of her eyebrows. Your father, however, is an entirely different story. His expression is stormy and unfamiliar to you, and reminds you of the scolding you received as a child when you had crossed too many lines.

“Is there…something wrong? I was out with Donghyuck and we had a slight mishap. i didn’t mean to be late.” Your unease causes you to shift nervously, posture remaining stiff, despite how the plush couch invites you to sink into it. There’s a pause, and you look at your father. It’s evident he wants to say something.

“You shouldn’t meet the Lee boy from now on. He isn’t allowed to visit, either.” You know your father is referring to Donghyuck, and you look at him, visibly alarmed. Your parents have always welcomed Donghyuck to your house, and they are aware of the friendship between the both of you.

Your mother senses the shift in the atmosphere of the room, and quickly attempts to mediate.

“What your father is saying, Y/N, is that you should try to interact less with Donghyuck-I mean, Mr Lee, from now on. It would be easier for both families if the two of you maintained a distance.” Her words are stilted as she looks at you, gauging your expression as it shifts from confusion to disbelief.

The laugh that escapes you comes out nervous and forced, your eyes darting rapidly from your father, to your mother, and then back.

You force yourself breathe, to remain calm, even as you fiddle with your fingers in your lap. However, your voice comes out slightly strained.

“Donghyuck’s my childhood friend. He comes over every week. I thought the both of you were alright with his presence. Why so suddenly-”

“Because we did not know that goddamned boy was Lee Haechan!” Your father’s voice is booming, the sudden increase in volume causing both you and your mother to flinch. It takes you a while to process Donghyuck’s formal name, the one he uses with strangers. Evidently, there is a lapse in communication, and your father’s outburst puzzling you further. Just then, the butler comes to the door. “There is a call for you, sir.” Your father leaves enraged, and the silence that falls over the room is heavy.

You look to your mother desperately for some sort of clarification, and she sighs wearily. Tears are budding at the corner of your eyes, and you hastily blink them away.

“Your father found out about Donghyuck’s identity at a business function a week ago. We were unaware that Donghyuck was the only son of the Lee family.”

“Does that mean something?” You had always been aware of Donghyuck’s family history, where his ancestors had ties to this place from over a century ago. He didn’t speak much of it, only telling you bits and pieces.

“As you know, Y/N, our family is relatively new. After all, it was your grandfather who earned his fortune here. Your father and the Lees have a relatively tumultuous relationship, to say the least.”

Your confusion begins to clear up barely, but you’re not sure if for the better or worse. Since you were young, you’ve heard the whispers follow your parents, and subsequently you, round. That families like yours, the nouveau-riche who earned their wealth barely half a century ago, are nothing compared to the aristocracy. That your presence and others diluted the nature of high society itself, instead bringing disgrace with their lack of pedigree.

You’ve always paid little mind to it, however. After all, there are plenty of families that would be considered nouveau-riche, most of them equally as wealthy and powerful as the ones that hail from the aristocracy. The whispers have gradually dwindled over the years, and you believed it to be a poorly-conceived notion by certain adults reluctant to let their social status be infringed by those considered beneath them.

And you know that Donghyuck pays little mind to it, if any. In fact, you’re not sure if he’s even aware of the distinction, considering the nature of your friendship.

“I know you and Donghyuck have known each other for a long time. However, we do not think Donghyuck’s parents would be happy about this if they found out. It would be easier for both of you if you maintained a distance. Both for you and Donghyuck, and for your families as well.”

Your mother’s words cause you to realise that you’ve never been formally introduced to Donghyuck’s parents, or even met them. While you have been over to his house, it was only when his parents were absent on their business trips, or when he threw parties with hundreds in attendance.

Donghyuck has barely mentioned them, and you fail to recall any piece of knowledge about his parents. You wonder if they are aware of you, Donghyuck’s best friend since childhood. The sudden imbalance has been made glaringly obvious by your father’s words, and you’re not entirely sure what to do with the new realization.

The thought that you might be non-existent to Donghyuck’s family, the people he’s closest to in the world, leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

Your mother seems to sense the turmoil unfolding in your mind, and looks at you gently. “Take some time to think about it, Y/N. Your father and I will be out for dinner tonight. The telephone will be free to use if you wish to make a call.”

You can tell she is apologetic about her words and that of your father’s, but you can’t bring yourself to reply just yet.

Later that evening, you’re nestled in the armchair of your father’s office, telephone across you. Donghyuck is likely done with dinner at this very moment, and perhaps resting in his room.

You must look rather ridiculous to the staff, having sat in here for an hour and yet nowhere near making a call. Still, hesitation tugs at your movements. What will you even ask Donghyuck?

As if to end your dilemma, the telephone rings loudly.

You hastily pick it up, and hear a faint static buzzing before a honeyed voice comes through.

“Hello. This is Lee Donghyuck. May I speak to Y/N for a brief moment, please?” His voice sounds excessively formal and stilted, so different from the tone you’re used to. It causes a smile to make its way onto your face, despite the situation.

“You’re speaking to her right now, Mr Lee,” you reply, and hear Donghyuck huff a laugh from across the receiver.

“Very funny, Y/N. I was half-terrified that your father would be the one to pick up. Care to tell me what happened today after I left?” Donghyuck is simply curious, but you are unsure how to broach the topic.

“Donghyuck?” He hums in acknowledgement.

“My father talked to me today. About the situation between both of our…families. Did you know about it?” Dead silence fills the room, and you can even hear Donghyuck’s breathing still.

“If you are asking whether I was aware that our families are bitter competitors and refuse to interact with each other, then…” Donghyuck’s voice trails off, and you bite your lip out of worry.

“Then?”

“Then yes.” Donghyuck’s voice comes off almost sheepish, and you feel pressure building up at the front of your head.

“Do your parents know who I am?” You finally ask the question that’s waiting on the tip of your tongue. After all, your parents have known Donghyuck since he was a child. Surely his mother and father are aware of you, his best friend of over a decade. Even if friendships between the opposite sex aren’t exactly considered orthodox in proper society.

“They know…I have a close female friend,” he mutters, and it comes out in bits and pieces, that you almost strain to catch it.

“A close female friend.” The four words leave an unpleasant taste in your mouth as you sound them out, even though you know Donghyuck doesn’t mean them to be demeaning. However, it feels humiliating in a way, especially since you’re aware of how the exact same term is used to describe Donghyuck’s fleeting, romantic entanglements.

There’s a beat of silence over the phone, until Donghyuck exhales sharply. You’re gripped by a flash of anger, and then it disappears, leaving doubt and a grim look on your face. Your other hand lies in your lap, and you don’t even realise you’re wrenching your skirt so hard that it crumples.

“Y/N, listen to me, you know how my parents are-”

“No, Donghyuck, I do not know how your parents are. If you may recall, you’ve barely told me anything about them. Or about your family at all, really.”

Your words come out clipped, and you quickly slam down the receiver, ending the telephone call. It’s not even out of anger, really- you think you might just be more fearful of Donghyuck’s reply.

All these years, you rarely prodded Donghyuck to share about his family, unless he offered the information up himself. You knew he had a younger sister and several cousins. After all, it was obvious that the boy did not enjoy sharing much about them, and you guessed that he likely had an estranged relationship with them. For you, it was enough to know that he was from a family similar to yours, inhabiting the upper echelons of society.

Donghyuck was your best friend who grew up with you, spent summers at your house, and the person who your parents treated like a son. That was the only person he needed to be. Even when your father lost his temper, the rage was not directed at Donghyuck, but rather how he was convinced that Donghyuck’s parents would never have allowed such a friendship to blossom.

You wonder what lies Donghyuck must have told them, then, to be able to spend so much time with you unhindered. Unease plagued you at the idea that Donghyuck intentionally omitted his identity from your parents as well, even if it was not malicious in nature.

It made you feel as if your friendship with Donghyuck was something to be embarrassed by, an illicit secret that brought shame onto both of your families.

Maybe he perceived it that way too.

july, 1909

“I’m busy today, Renjun.”

“With checking another one of your father’s ledgers? We both know you don’t enjoy it anyways,” Renjun mutters under his breath, and you glare at him. To give the boy credit, you were eager enough for an excuse to escape the workload that came with being the oldest child and heir.

“Fine. Dinner at the Waldorf Astoria, is it?”

“Yes. At seven. Don’t be late.” He hangs up before you can even reply, and you stare at the now silent receiver. The way that Renjun speaks is the same way he conducts his relationships and friendships: the barest of what is necessary. Still, his curtness is refreshing compared to so many of the people you’ve met, who seem to have no end to their honeyed words.

You think of a boy with never-ending flowery words and witticisms, and determinedly push that thought away immediately.

Three hours later, you stride into the grand lobby of the Waldorf Astoria, heels clacking softly against the marble flooring. The restaurant is one of your favourites, and a smile of recognition appears on the hostess’s face as soon as she sees you.

“Miss Y/N. Good evening. This way, please.” You follow her into one of the private rooms, wondering why Renjun didn’t come out to get you himself. Despite his cold exterior, Renjun prefers to save the waitstaff their trouble, even if it is part of their job.

A sense of foreboding enters you when you push open the door, and you understand why the moment you see who’s sitting at the table.

Lee Donghyuck, hair combed back immaculately and suit clinging to frame, stands up and rushes to block you from leaving when you turn towards the exit.

“Let me through, Haechan,” you say through gritted teeth, looking at the wall past his head. The use of his formal name causes Donghyuck to flinch as if struck, and an apology almost escapes you.

“I haven’t seen you in two months, Y/N. Sit down and we can talk about this. Please,” Donghyuck’s voice is pleading, insistent, and it causes you to pause. Almost. You levelled your gaze at him calmly.

“And what did you tell your parents to meet me today? Did you say that you were meeting Renjun? I’m not sure what they would think if they knew you were meeting a close female friend in a private room at such an expensive restaurant.”

As much as you do not want to use Donghyuck’s parents against him, you’re not quite sure how to deal with him. Lee Haechan, Lee Donghyuck, your best friend. It keeps blending together, leaving you confused.

Donghyuck swallows and steps away, and you think that this is it. He’ll let you go, and the both of you will never return to whatever friendship you had before this. He’ll become a friendly acquaintance at most, considering the both of you will see each other much too often. Especially once he takes over his father’s estate and so do you.

“I told them I was meeting [L/N] [Y/N]. My best friend.”

Donghyuck’s words hang in the air, an invisible hand that stops you from pushing open the door.

“I told them we met in kindergarten and that I visited your estate every day. I told them I’ve known you for twelve years, and that we met every week. And that your parents know me. I told them everything.”

You look at Donghyuck, not daring to breathe.

“Wouldn’t they be angry?” You ask, eyes searching his. Donghyuck allows a small smile to appear on his face, before his eyes turn serious with sincerity once again.

‘Not any less angry than they would have been if I told them earlier. I’m sorry, Y/N. For not being honest from the beginning. I was scared.”

Donghyuck looks so young suddenly, eyes wide and anxious as he looks at you. Every bit a grown-up in the eyes of society, and yet so very young to you. He’s the boy you’ve always known, the seven-year-old who made a painting to apologise to you for ruining your dress. Your heart softens just a little looking at him, guilt creeping in. You’re unfamiliar with his parents, but anyone who can put a damper on the sun himself must be a force to be reckoned with.

The reason Donghyuck loved coming over so much must have been because of them, then. Because his home was hostile and unwelcoming, and he found solace in yours.

Your shoulders relax from their tense posture, and Donghyuck immediately notices it. His expression lightens a little as well, as he senses your rapidly-changing emotions. He steps closer to you, until the both of you are less than a hand’s breadth away from each other.

Up close, you can see the mix of doe-brown and raven-black in Donghyuck’s eyes, and the freckles that scatter haphazardly across his skin. His face is so very familiar to you, and seeing him again after two months of absolute silence hits you like a punch to the gut.

“Donghyuck, I didn’t-”

He grabs your hand, quickly cutting you off. Unease and guilt floods you, but you’ve never been as good at stringing words together as Donghyuck.

“It’s alright, Y/N. You don’t have to apologise for anything.” His voice is comforting, a soothing balm to the emotional turmoil in your heart. You nod quietly, not sure how to continue.

“Now, sit down, will you? I ordered all your favourites and I can’t possibly finish them by myself,” he jokes, and you follow Donghyuck as he pulls out the chair for you, hands exerting gentle pressure on your shoulders.

Later, you watch as Donghyuck eagerly digs into the red velvet cake, even before you get to do so. You had introduced it to him a few years ago, despite his insistence on ordering ice cream instead. Needless to say, you were quite sure you had convinced him to enjoy it, or perhaps he just gave in after your repeated pleading.

He hums contentedly, and your heart surges with fondness. You’re not sure how you had actually thought that Donghyuck could be reduced to a mere acquaintance, the years of friendship diminished. However, you couldn’t be more glad that he was now here, opposite you.

The city is still buzzing when you and Donghyuck leave the chandelier-lit hallways of the Waldorf Astoria, and Donghyuck tugs insistently on your arm.

“Come on. Let’s get you home.” He cranes his neck out towards the road to look for a taxi, but you extend a hand to halt his movements. Donghyuck flashes a questioning glance, and you smile reassuringly.

“It’s still early. We can stay out a little longer.” Donghyuck nods, acquiescing to your request. After all, the one most likely to have a curfew is you, rather than him. Although your parents think you’re out with Renjun and trust him to an extent, they’d rather not have your whereabouts unknown until late.

“Jaemin told me about a place near here the other day. Let’s try to find it.”

You follow Donghyuck down numerous winding alleys until you think the both of you might be in an entirely different district. By the time he pauses, the both of you are slightly out of breath and standing in front of an elevator with faded wooden doors. The lift is likely older than the both of you, judging from the way its doors open jerkily.

You raise an eyebrow. “Are you sure this is safe?” Regardless, you follow Donghyuck into the lift.

“You should trust me more. Do you think I would want your parents to dislike me even more by making them think I was responsible for your untimely death?” He says it casually, but you know your parents’ rejection must have hurt more than Donghyuck is willing to let on.

“I’m sure that if they found you and my dead body, they would rather believe I caused my own death than pin you as guilty.” It’s a weak attempt and not one you entirely believe, but you hope it comforts him nonetheless.

Donghyuck doesn’t say anything, instead choosing to squeeze your hand gently. At some point along the way, he had gotten tired of having to look back to check if you were keeping up, and had instead chosen to grab your hand and drag you with him.

“I wonder how Jaemin found this godforsaken place,” Donghyuck muses.

“It’s probably for his photography. You know how he’s always running around the city looking for new places.”

Just then, the elevator lurches slightly before halting, and you stumble in a moment of shock.

Your impending fall is halted by a pair of arms that are most definitely not yours, and you turn to find yourself less than a hair’s breadth away from Donghyuck, whose eyebrows are furrowed in concern.

“Are you alright? You should be careful with those shoes.” Donghyuck’s referring to your heels, the ones that you wear for sit-down dinners and definitely do not use for exploring abandoned buildings with your best friend.

However, you find yourself unable to focus on Donghyuck’s words, and instead, the warmth that emanates from the hand he’s placed on your waist. He’s much too close to you for comfort, and your mind is beginning to blank.

“Y/N?” His words snap you out of your brief daydream, and you quickly step away from him, blood rushing to your cheeks. Warmth floods you, your heart beating unstably, and you’re quite sure it’s not just from all the walking.

You welcome the chance to leave the tiny, cramped lift and put some space between you and Donghyuck, despite having absolutely no idea where the both of you are. A slight breeze provides respite to your flushed cheeks, and Donghyuck follows after you. The both of you are on a completely empty rooftop, and you immediately head towards the edge.

“You can see the entire city from here,” you say as you lean over the parapet. The lift brought you much higher than expected, allowing you to be flooded with the sight of New York’s stunning skyline. It’s a pretty view, and you’re filled with a sense of quiet peace as Donghyuck stands by your side.

It’s beautiful,” you exhale, and at Donghyuck’s lack of response, turn over to him. Your eyes immediately meet, and there is an unfamiliar fondness in Donghyuck’s starry-eyed gaze.

“Yeah, it is.” Donghyuck says lowly, eyes never leaving yours. The air feels charged with a strange energy, crackling with tension. If you utter a word, it might just be broken. First the lift, and now this. Your heart has been hammering against your ribcage endlessly, and it seems absurd that it might be because of Donghyuck. He’s the person you trust with anything, the one who you’d willingly get lost with. Yet, his gaze now makes you feel like a cornered animal, and you find yourself unable to formulate a coherent response.

“Donghyuck, I…” Your voice trails off and he smiles slightly, instead moving closer until your shoulders touch. The both of you stand side by side, eyes fixed on the radiant lights that make up the city.

However, your wristwatch quickly serves to dispel the peace of the moment, as you quickly dart a glance at the time.

“Donghyuck, we’ve got to leave. I told them I’d be out with Renjun until a quarter past ten.” You hook your arm around his and quickly pull him back in the direction of the lift.

Once the both of you are back below, however, Donghyuck’s quick to hail you a cab.

“Aren’t you getting in?” You ask, confused, staring at Donghyuck who remains standing outside. He smiles down at you gently, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before you can even register that it has slipped out of your bun.

“I don’t want your staff to see us and get into trouble. I’ll make my own way back.” There’s a slight disappointment in Donghyuck’s voice, and you’re not sure if you should tell him that you simply do not care if Ms Kim sees Donghyuck sending you back and reports it to your parents.

“Drive safely, please,” Donghyuck directs to the driver, handing him the fare with a look that tells you not to protest. The driver nods, and you turn back to look at Donghyuck, still standing on the pavement. His familiar figure brings a smile to your face despite your tiredness as he lifts up a hand to wave.

The ride back is spent in solitary quiet, for Donghyuck is not here to fill up the chatter in the space.

That night, you sleep more soundly than you have in weeks.

the present: september, 1912

“We’re done for the morning.” Your tutor, Mr Park, is a kindly, middle-aged man, and you've grown especially thankful for his presence since you’ve been confined at home.

You gather up your things, bowing to him as you get up from one of the many plush armchairs in your father’s library. You’ve decided to make it your mission to finish all the books that fill these shelves, and so far your progress is halfway there. No matter that you spend hours reading every day.

“Y/N. Take the afternoon off.” Mr Park’s voice cuts through the stillness of the library, and you turn to look at him questioningly.

“Even my best students preparing for Harvard don’t study as much as you do. Take a break and spend the afternoon in the city. No young lady should languish at home.”

The twinkle in his eye tells you that Mr Park will hide you sneaking out from your parents, and you immediately get up.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t consider your students languishing at home if they were male,” you retort, a bemused smile on your face.

“That’s because they are much less sensible than you are. Home confinement would do most men a world of good.” His remark causes a grin to appear on your face, and he waves you off. You do not argue further. After all, there are only five or so hours before your parents return, and you plan to make the most of it.

The entryway is noticeably quiet as you make your way down the marble stairs, purse in hand and shoes changed to favour a pair more comfortable for walking.

Besides the close housekeeping staff, no one else knows of your father’s anger at you. Well, besides one other person, of course.

“Y/N!” Your younger sister, Miyeon, appears in the hallway right as you are about to leave. Her eyes are alight with curiosity, storybook in hand. Panicked, you run over to hush her.

“Lower your voice, Miyeon-ah. I need you to help me keep a secret. Can you tell Ms Kim I’m very sick and would like no one to disturb me in my room?”

“Unnie, are you sneaking out?” She whispers conspiratorially, and you flash a grin at her.

“Yes. To see Donghyuck. But you can’t tell anyone, because Donghyuck and I are…planning a surprise for everyone. Okay?”

She nods eagerly, but her lips quickly soften into a pout. “I miss Donghyuck. Will he come to visit soon?”

A sharp pang of guilt enters your heart as you peer down at her forlorn expression. Donghyuck’s always treated your eight-year-old sister especially well, keeping her entertained when you’re too overwhelmed by her hyperactivity.  He’s as much an older brother to her as you are her sister.

“He’s been very…busy. I’ll ask him to visit as soon as possible, okay?” She hums in agreement at that, and you smooth your hand over her hair gently. Miyeon does not need to know of the enmity between both of your families, and your now-fraught relationship with your father. You want her to have as good a childhood as possible, and there’s no reason she should be involved in it.

It is only when you are standing at the driveway that you realise you’ve made an oversight. Although your father didn’t explicitly restrict you from leaving, he told the driver that you were not to be driven anywhere at any cost, effectively preventing you from making the thirty-minute trip down to the city centre.

Walking will cost you at least two hours of your precious time, but you suppose you have no choice. The weather is welcoming, at least, and you decide that you’ll try to make the most of it and enjoy the scenery. After all, the fresh air feels much better than the stifling air of your room.

Twenty minutes in, you’ve finally made it out of the gated community where your family’s estate is located in. The road here is gravelly, and you stop yourself from tripping a few times.

A car comes up behind you, and you pause as it comes to a stop right in front of you. Your heart fills with apprehension. You’ve heard about people getting robbed or kidnapped on the roads, but it’s bright daylight and this path is relatively safe. In fact, you’ve walked it hundreds of times.

When a man steps out, you’re entirely prepared to run, until you recognize the familiar silhouette.

“Renjun?” You immediately walk over, and he waves in greeting. Renjun rarely leaves his estate, especially in the middle of the day.

“I needed to head into the city to collect some art supplies. Saw you and figured you needed a ride.” You smile gratefully at him and immediately get in. Renjun’s car is pristine, and the leather seats are plush against your back.

“I haven’t seen you in weeks. Haechan told me you were stuck at home.” You nod, allowing a sigh to escape.

“My father got angry. You know how he is. I decided to sneak out today.”

“Which is why you’re walking three miles?” You roll your eyes at the sarcasm in Renjun’s tone.

“Yes, but now that I have you, our dear Renjun, to send me, my journey will be cut short,” you simper sweetly.

“Did I forget to tell you that I charge a fee? I’ve found a new calling as a taxi driver.”

“We both know you’d rather die than allow strangers to get into your precious car.”

Despite your constant bickering, you missed Renjun more than you’d care to admit. Especially since he would tease you about it to no end.

“Well then, where to?”

“Anywhere. I’m just glad to be out. I can go with you to get your art supplies,” you reply, and Renjun arches an eyebrow.

“You don’t want to see Haechan?”

You shrug. “He doesn’t know I’m out today and I have no way to find him. Besides, I just saw him last week.”

“Last week?” Renjun asks, confused, and your breath hitches. You didn’t mean for it to slip out.

“Well…Donghyuck may have….done some wall-climbing.” Renjun lets out an incredulous laugh, shaking his head. He drums his fingers on the wheel, humming silently.

“The both of you are ridiculous. Haechan mainly, but you too.”

Your eyebrows furrow slightly, and you turn to Renjun. “What?”

He doesn't reply, instead smiling one of his stupid smiles that say I know better than you do. There’s no way to get Renjun to divulge his thoughts unless he wishes, and so you leave him to it. You don’t think it’s that ridiculous. If Donghyuck was the one stuck at home, you would probably risk breaking your neck for him too. And it was likely the bigger sacrifice, considering how his room was a floor higher than yours.

The rest of the drive is passed in comfortable silence, Renjun quietly humming to a jazz song you don’t know the title of. The familiar brick-and-mortar buildings enter your vision, and the car drives past men in bowler hats and women in bonnets. Compared to the quiet isolation that exists within the suburbs, the city buzzes with a frenetic energy that screams liveliness, and it hits you like a tidal wave after all the solitary afternoons spent in your family’s garden.

The art supply store is much larger than you expected, with a ceiling that extends all the way up, leading to a skylight. Renjun is evidently familiar with the place from the way he weaves from shelf to shelf, and you follow quietly, observing him at work. Renjun is secretive about his art, even to his close friends, and you only get to see his works displayed when they are displayed at galleries or sold at auctions.

He’s quick to arrange for the materials to be delivered by the end of today, and the both of you head to the exit.

“Well, this is where I have to leave you now. Have fun, but stay safe.” The way Renjun talks to you makes you feel like a little child, but that’s just how he is.

“We haven’t seen each other in so long. Are you not free for a meal?” There’s disappointment evident in your voice. As much as you do not mind spending time by yourself in the city, you would much rather have Renjun by your side.

“I wish I was, but there’s a meeting with a sponsor I can’t miss. I can send you home again, though. Can you meet me here in two hours?” You nod in assent, watching as Renjun strides down until he eventually disappears around a corner.

It’s just you now, and the bustling streets of New York City. This is the most lively area of the city, with art galleries and restaurants littering every street. You’re drawn to one, in particular, its elegant marble arches and stained glass fixtures taking your breath away. When you step in, you’re immediately surrounded by commotion. It’s unusually crowded for a gallery, and from the attire of everyone around you, it’s likely no typical event. You grab a glass of champagne from a waiter’s tray as you weave through the crowds, attempting to find a less crowded area.

You eventually pause in front of a winged sculpture that takes up most of the space in its display case.

“Enjoying the exhibition?”

“Well, I suppose you could say so.” You don’t turn around to view the source of the voice, too enraptured in reading the description that accompanies the figure.

“And you’re not going to say you came here to find me?” The voice is cocky, but slightly petulant, and all too reminiscent of someone you know. You turn around sharply, eyebrows furrowing.

“Donghyuck? I didn’t know you were here-”

“Yeah, I figured, considering how you made a straight beeline for the gallery instead of me. Why didn’t you tell me your parents let you leave the house?” There’s a note of hurt in his voice, and you grin slightly. It’s almost adorable, but also comforting, having the knowledge that Donghyuck values your presence as much as you do his.

You make your way over to him, ruffling his hair slightly. He bends down reflexively for you to do so, and it makes you feel like you’re a young child again. It’s something only Donghyuck can do, you think. He represents every part of your childhood, and makes you feel as if you’re young again, without a care in the world.

“I snuck out,” you whisper proudly, and Donghyuck raises his eyebrows, slightly impressed. As far as he knows, he’s the rule-breaker out of both of you.

“Anyways, what are you doing here? You’ve never been one much for art.”

“My family’s the one organizing this exhibition and the auction later. As their only son, I have to be here,” Donghyuck replies, and you nod in understanding. Despite his frivolous nature, he still fulfils his duties to the utmost extent, and you suppose that’s why you’ve never chided Donghyuck for his occasionally irresponsible actions. If anything, you’re more worried about his liver and his general health from all the red wine and sleepless nights he has.

“Then…are your parents here?” You ask nervously, fiddling with your hands. You’ve never met Donghyuck’s parents, and you’re not sure if you want to. You’ve seen them in the newspapers, of course, and in passing at important events, but never long enough to draw any notice. Though they’re definitely aware of your presence, it seems they’ve decided to ignore it as a minor inconvenience. Similar to how your parents treat Donghyuck now, you think.

Donghyuck shakes his head happily, however. “They’re out temporarily to settle some stuff for the auction, so it’s just me helming the event. It’s about time for lunch, though.” As if coordinated, your stomach rumbles, and Donghyuck lets out a laugh at it.

“My treat for lunch. To celebrate my best friend’s temporary freedom,” he teases, and you smile up at him.

Before the both of you can exit, however, a man strides in. His eyebrows are thin and pinched, much like the rest of his features. There is a certain unwelcoming air to him, and you notice Donghyuck turning imperceptibly stiff.

“Ah. Haechan. I was wondering where the golden boy of the Lee family was.” His voice is haughty, belying sarcasm, and you immediately decide that you don’t particularly like this man. There’s something about him that spells malice, as if he’s deliberately out to get you.

“Mr Park. A pleasure to see that you’re doing well,” Donghyuck returns with a sickly sweet smile, one that you know is entirely false. It’s the smile reserved for the people he likes the least, and you’re rendered even more curious about who this Mr Park is.

“And who’s this lady friend of yours?’ Mr Park says, turning to you. The way his gaze looks you up and down makes you shudder slightly, and Donghyuck immediately steps forward. However, you’re determined to not back down.

“The name’s Y/N L/N,” you bite out, eyes narrowed at him.

“Y/N L/N? I believe I know your father. Still, what are you doing running around with a boy like Haechan?” There is an almost predatory glint in his eye as he takes in the both of you, and you’re sure he’s aware of the not-so-well-concealed feud between both you and Donghyuck’s families.

“If you excuse us. Y/N and I are rather busy. Especially if you consider the prominence of our families,” Donghyuck’s low tone is condescending, betraying a hint of danger, and it's something you’re unused to.

You realise that this is Lee Haechan, heir to a major business conglomerate and the reigning king of New York high society. The front he shows to everyone else, that gives him a sense of notoriety. His palm is warm against the small of the back as he guides you out of the room, but the both of you are not fast enough to escape Mr Park’s last comment.

“Busy, huh? I wonder what your parents will say when they find out their son is playing in his own version of Romeo and Juliet as the male lead.”

It takes you a while to figure out the meaning behind Mr Park’s words, but they settle into you with a feeling of unease. Not the idea that Mr Park thinks you and Donghyuck are romantically involved- that’s the least of your concerns. But is that what your friendship with Donghyuck is destined for? Tragedy?

Donghyuck seems to sense your emotional turmoil and smooths his hands over yours. “Don’t think about what that guy said. He just spews whatever nonsense comes to mind. My parents don’t like him either.” The smile that you give Donghyuck is shaky, but he’ll take it.

“If anything, I would be Juliet. I’m not daft enough to drink poison just because I thought you died,” he states, and you roll your eyes. However, your heart feels a bit lighter, and you’re able to pass the walk to lunch in comfortable silence.

Later that afternoon, Donghyuck watches silently as you get back in the car with Renjun and drive off. He would offer, but he’s not sure if his showing up would only further undermine your parents’ impression of him. Sometimes, he feels almost like some sort of parasite, clinging to you until even your relationship with your father has become increasingly tense. Still, he can’t seem to detach from you for too long. You’ve been such a big part of his world for as long as he can remember. He’s not sure what he would do to fill the space if you disappeared.

He may have also lied to you about Mr Park, but hopefully, you’ll never know that. Donghyuck feels oddly protective over you, even though he knows you’re perfectly capable of handling yourself. It’s probably just because you’re one of the few genuinely close friends he has, and he can’t afford to lose any.

When Donghyuck finally returns to the gallery, the people present are much more sparse, everyone already heading out for dinner.

“Lee Haechan. Where were you?” His father’s voice is low and cuts across the shadows of the room, and Donghyuck almost trips on his own feet out of surprise. Of course. Mr Park, that desperate ladder-climber. He would do anything to curry favour with Donghyuck’s father.

“I see you still refuse to address me by my birth name. If you have to know, I was with Y/N.”

”That wench again? Mr Park informed me of what he saw today. Stop fooling around and get your head back on straight.”

Donghyuck feels his jaw clenching, fingers curled into a fist. You’re no wench, as much as his father likes to call you one. But his father thinks anyone is below him, even his own son and wife.

“She’s my friend.” Donghyuck finds his voice wavering, and he hates it. Twenty-one, and yet he still feels fear at the sight of his father. It’s a painful relationship they have, really. His father cannot abandon him because Donghyuck is his heir and more than capable enough, even if he despises him. Besides, no respectable member of the gentry should have to endure the shameful scandal of a runaway son. And Donghyuck refuses to abandon his mother and the life he has now outside of his father.

But every time he finds himself close to the limit, it’s always about you.

“She’s a competitor, you idiot. I may not like the girl, but I have an ounce of respect for her being smart enough to have my only son wrapped around her finger as such. If you tire of the women you have, I’ll send more.”

“How dare you-”

“I dare, Haechan, because I’m your father and the only reason why your sorry little life and that of your mother’s still exist. And my power extends outside as well. Don’t make me do something you’ll regret. It would be a pity if the family lost their oldest daughter, don’t you think?”

The air seems to hush, a deathly silence overtaking the hall. Donghyuck can feel his heartbeat slowing, his anger cooling to a numbing fear as he takes in the implications of his father’s words. He knows his family does have unsavoury ties to the less respectable areas of society, but he’s always chosen to ignore it. Donghyuck’s not sure how far his father is willing to go to do what he deems necessary, but the idea of finding out causes his mouth to turn dry.

To lose you….that only spells two consequences, none of them good. And he’s not sure if your family is enough to protect you, wealthy as they are. He knows your parents. They are kind, even if they’ve distanced themselves from him. Compared to his father, yours is nowhere as cold-blooded. But he would be devastated at the thought of anything happening to you. It’s two birds with one stone, he realises. To topple his business opponent, and reign in his son.

In that moment, standing in that gallery with the man who raised him, Donghyuck feels so very helpless. He’s angry at so many things. His father, the situation the both of you are in, and himself. For not being good enough to protect you, for being the reason why you fell out with your father, for putting you in danger each and every single time he seeks you out.

It’s a terrible time to have this realisation, but Donghyuck loves you. He realises it when he’s pacing in his room later that evening, his father’s threats looming over his head and causing anxiety to rake its claws in him.

Of course, he loves you as his best friend, the one who’s been by his side since he was young and provided a respite away from the cold home that he had grown up in. Still, it seems that there’s always something more, something missing. Donghyuck doesn’t have anything to rely on, considering his parents had a loveless marriage.

However, looking at your family, and looking at you, he thinks he might understand love a little more.

Of course, he would fall hopelessly for someone who had grown up with so much care and affection to give.

The moments where he sees couples on the streets, and wonder if the both of you look like them even if you’re not hand-in-hand.

That night on the balcony, when he thought you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen in his life. And the time on the rooftop, when he wished to just lean into you, and close the distance.

Donghyuck realises that he’s loved you for most of his life, even before he knew what love was. His name may mean the sun, but he finds himself orbiting around you instead.

The use of Romeo and Juliet feels ironically bitter now, and Donghyuck scoffs at the impossibility of the situation. His love isn’t enough to untangle this web of threads that the both of you are stuck in, unless he cuts through them entirely. You’ll get hurt, but at least you’ll be free. It’ll be as painful as cutting his own heart out, but Donghyuck would gladly place your safety above his.

Fifteen years is a long, long time to love someone. Yet, Donghyuck now feels as if all the time in the world would not be enough to love you.

november, 1912

He’s not coming today, Y/N.

When it hits almost two in the morning, that’s when you give up. It’s been two months since you’ve last seen Donghyuck, and since he stopped coming to your window in the middle of the night. You shouldn’t be disappointed- It must be tiring for him, and you’ve gone longer than that without seeing Donghyuck. Still, you can’t help the sense of dread that pervades you every single time you stand at your balcony, and his familiar face isn’t in sight.

You’ve been able to call Renjun and your other friends, but they’re disappointingly sparse with updates about Donghyuck, besides the usual of him at parties. It’s like he’s still normal to everyone, except you. You’ve tried calling Donghyuck’s estate, but you’ve always given up in fear of his parents being the ones to pick up. You had once left a note for his housekeeper, but it seems that it didn’t exactly get through.

You stare up at the ceiling from where you are in your bed, head swirling with thoughts. Maybe he’s busy with his work. After all, that’s likely the most plausible reason. Despite that, unease settles in you, and your sleep is fitful.

The midday sun greets you once you wake up, and you’re surprised at how late you’ve woken up. Lunch is already halfway through when you’re down, your father at the head of the table.

“Good morning,” you say slightly drowsily as you settle down and pour yourself a heaping cup of coffee, and your parents both smile slightly at you, your father moving the bread basket over. Throughout the past few months, you suppose his initial anger and worry about Donghyuck has mellowed somewhat.

“Y/N. Tell the driver to bring you where you want from now on,” your father mutters, and you almost drop the sugar cube out of shock.

“What?” You look up at him incredulously, unwilling to believe that perhaps, you might be allowed to leave.

Your mother smiles kindly at you, though her eyes are sympathetic. “Your father was just scared of the rumours surrounding you and Donghyuck. But they’re gone now, and we haven’t seen the boy in a while. Besides, you’re an adult now. As your parents, we can’t stop you from doing what you want.”

You can’t stop the grin that makes its way onto your face, and you immediately engulf the both of them in a hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’ll be sensible, I promise.” Breakfast forgotten, you immediately run up to your room to get ready, unaware of the words your parents exchange with each other.

“I know Donghyuck is a good and kind boy. But he’ll bring trouble everywhere he goes, with that father of his.”

“He makes her happy. Let them figure it out.”

Despite your parents’ discouragement, your first course of action is to find Donghyuck. By the time you leave, it’s in the late afternoon, which means the weekly parties will start at any time. If you’ve estimated the weeks correctly, it’s Renjun’s turn this time.

The drive down to Renjun’s house is far, but scenic. He had deliberately chosen the very outskirts. of the suburbs, and bought the land surrounding the property as well, so as to ensure only greenery would be seen. You think his estate is the prettiest, though yours comes to a close second.

When you reach, people are already beginning to mill about, and you’re grateful you dressed appropriately. It takes you long enough to make your way past the gardens, to the main foyer, and then down a few side hallways to reach the room that Renjun saves for his close friends.

“Hello, everyone. Missed me?” Your voice is playful as you walk in, and Renjun immediately sits up, a smile lighting up his features.

“I didn’t think you’d actually make it. Congratulations on your freedom.” He passes you a glass of Sauvignon, so dark it almost looks like blood. Jeno lifts his glass to you in a silent toast, grinning. Your eyes scan the room, but you frown. “This is Donghyuck’s favourite wine. Why isn’t he here finishing it all?” Your tone is light, but you’re genuinely wondering where the man has run off to, considering he’s rarely separated from Renjun.

However, Renjun’s expression looks almost sheepish, and it makes you even more confused. He places his hands on your shoulders gently, steering you in the direction of the couch. “Donghyuck’s a little preoccupied. He’ll be back soon.”

Renjun seems insistent, and so you leave him be. However, one hour and six poker games later, you’re starting to get genuinely concerned.

“Renjun, can you bring me to Donghyuck?” You ask, and Renjun looks like he’s been put in a difficult spot.

“Renjun. Where is he?” Your tone is serious now, and the man in front of you lets out a sigh, looking resigned. He gets up, waving a hand for you to follow him. “Down that hallway. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You’re equal parts fearful and baffled. It’s Donghyuck. What would you have to fear? You turn the corner, and hear coquettish giggles coming out of a room. You roll your eyes. Renjun was just being dramatic, after all. This is nothing that you’re not used to, even if you find it slightly distasteful.

When you knock on the open door, signalling your presence, the two women sitting next to Donghyuck immediately look up, before their eyes widen in realisation. Donghyuck straightens and leans forward, his eyes slightly hazed over by alcohol but still aware of your presence. You stare at him from where you are standing, eyebrow raised.

“Who are you?”

That is the one question you’re not expecting, and your posture immediately straightens. “What? Donghyuck, you must be really drunk. It’s me, Y/N.” Your voice is still light, unaware of the situation, and Donghyuck swallows, looking at you directly before he speaks.

“Ah. What’s the heir of the L/N family doing in this room? Unless…you would like to join?” Donghyuck’s mouth is curled in a smirk, and it causes a sour feeling to appear in your mouth. What sort of game is he playing here? Donghyuck’s never made you feel small, or put you in a spot.

And yet, now, the situation is becoming increasingly uncomfortable. The two women are staring, doubtful of what to do. You feel slightly humiliated, and you’re not sure how to bridge the gap between you and him.

“Could you leave us, please?” You tilt your head meaningfully at the two other women in the room, who thankfully, leave without much hesitation. Donghyuck seems sad to see them go, a petulant pout on his face.

“If you just wanted me to yourself, you could have said so,” he says snarkily, and you roll your eyes. “Donghyuck, this is ridiculous. Why did you do that?”

“Why not? It was funny. Also, my name’s Haechan. Not Donghyuck.”

“What? Donghyuck, we’ve known each other for so long. Whatever prank you’re playing, cut it out.” You’re completely bewildered now, eyes piercing into Donghyuck from across the room, while he remains relaxed, legs spread out comfortably on the chaise. He swallows, and it seems like it’s the first time you’ve seen him hesitate in the past ten minutes or so.

“It’s not a prank. I’m tired.” You’re frozen at the door, and haven’t moved from it since you stepped in.

“If you’re tired, you should rest-”

“Not physically. I’m tired of you. Our friendship. Whatever. It’s annoying. I was having fun and then you ruined it.” His words don’t make sense to you at first, considering the implausibility of his statement. You laugh in incredulity at first. This must be some poorly-conceived prank he came up with. After all, he has gone too far by accident before, but you’ve always been quick to let him know. However, it’s hard to contain your own infuriation, especially at his careless words.

“Are you…are you serious?” He shrugs. “Yeah. I’m sick of it.”

This prank is exceedingly cruel, even for him.

That’s when the cold tendrils of fear begin to surround you. The fact that he might mean what he’s saying, that this isn’t some stupid joke his poor, half-addled brain conjured up. His expression is painfully earnest, and your throat constricts uncomfortably.

“Donghyuck, if I did something-”

“You didn’t do anything. I just don’t want to be associated with you anymore. It’s difficult, you know? And exhausting. We weren’t meant to be friends anyways.”

Your heart is breaking, but you’re sure only you can hear it, judging by the nonchalant expression on Donghyuck’s face. “Alright. I understand.” Your hands are trembling as you quickly turn on your heel. However, before you move past the threshold, you find that there’s still something you want to say.

“You know, it was difficult for me too. But I thought it was worth it. With you. I’m sorry you found it exhausting.”

You run out of the room before your tears can escape, leaving Donghyuck behind.

Unluckily enough, you collide right into Renjun. “See, Y/N, I told you not to go because I didn’t want you to get upset- are you crying?” His voice holds a note of surprise.

“Hey, listen to me. Donghyuck really does love you. He just has a terrible fucking way of expressing it. I’ll talk to him,” Renjun says, and you pull away from him. “What?”

“Don’t you have romantic feelings for him? I just didn’t want you to get hurt-”

You shake your head vehemently. “Renjun, where did you get this from?”

“I thought it was obvious to everyone. But that isn’t why you’re crying?” He’s just as muddled as you are now, and you’re still unable to wrap your head around everything that’s happened and what Renjun is saying.

“He told me he got bored and tired of the friendship. And essentially doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore. That’s why I was crying. Still am, actually.”

You watch as Renjun’s face gradually transforms from confusion to anger, and you would feel scared if you were on the receiving end. However, you feel strangely comforted. “That guy must be drunk out of his mind. Don’t take anything seriously, okay? I’ll talk to him. That idiot-”

You extend a hand to grab Renjun’s arm to stop him from making his way to Donghyuck, smiling a watery smile at him. “Renjun, it’s okay. Drunk words are sober thoughts, right? I kind of understand, even if he could have been a little nicer about it. I’ll just go back home now. Don’t worry about me.”

From the way your smile wavers, Renjun knows nothing is alright, but he can only watch hopelessly as you go, unsure how to mend the situation. When Donghyuck barely mentioned you and refused to partake in any conversation involving the mention of your name, Renjun had thought it strange, but ignored it.

Now, he understood. Something was very, very wrong.

There was only one person he could seek clarification from. And so, despite your protests, he stormed towards the sitting room that Donghyuck was in.

When he sees the boy in question, he scoffs angrily and storms over. “Stop drinking already,” he mutters, wrenching the wine bottle out of Donghyuck’s hand. Occasionally, the sight of Donghyuck tipsy is amusing, but now he just seems pathetic to Renjun.

“Cut it out, Renjun. Are you here to ruin my fun too?”

Donghyuck’s being mean on purpose, but Renjun’s already much more prepared to handle the situation. He’s always been more emotionally mature than most and wonders how heavy a blow this must have been for you.

“Don’t tell me to cut it out when you’re the one who messed up. Y/N just ran out of here crying, and I want to know what the hell is wrong with you,” Renjun says determinedly, and Donghyuck looks up at him, cloudy eyes temporarily replaced with regretful sobriety.

“She cried?”

“You’re sorry now? I’m not surprised, after what you said to her.” Renjun knows he’s being harsh, for Donghyuck must be hiding something, but he can’t help it. You’re his friend too, even if he’s close to Donghyuck.

Still, he wants to help to mend whatever it is. Because he knows that you’re one of the people that Donghyuck loves most in the world, even if the boy resolutely refuses to admit it.

Donghyuck sinks back into the couch, eyes closed. Renjun’s heart softens a little at the sight. This is the most defeated he’s seen Donghyuck in the decade that he’s known him. It’s a tendency of Donghyuck’s, to keep his problems to himself. Renjun understands because he’s done it before too.

The fear of being a burden is a heavy one to carry. He supposes for Donghyuck, it’s even worse because he doesn’t have anyone at home to rely on. And everyone expects the sun to keep on shining, day in and day out.

“Come on, Donghyuck. Out with it.”

“God, Renjun, you know I don’t mean any of what I said. It’s more likely that Y/N would get tired of me, honestly.” Donghyuck lets out a laugh at his own words, but it comes out bitter and forced.

“It’s my father. He made certain…threats. I cut Y/N off to keep her safe.” Renjun immediately understands the meaning behind Donghyuck’s words, but even then, he furrows his eyebrows.

“God, you’re an idiot, Lee Donghyuck.” His eyes open slightly then, and he looks at Renjun.

“What? No, Renjun, you don’t understand. My father can and will make good on his threats-”

“I know exactly what kind of person Mr Lee is. I don’t think pushing Y/N away will do anything at all. If your father wanted to make a move, he would have a long time ago. Besides, if he did anything now, the culprit is obvious. You don’t actually think Y/N is helpless, do you?” Renjun realises that the idea of you getting hurt has sent Donghyuck into a panic, muddling his judgement.

“Of course she’s not helpless, but she’s no match for-”

“Think about it, Donghyuck. Y/N’s family is one of the richest and the most powerful in the entire of upstate New York. The both of you may think that you’ve been able to keep your friendship under wraps, but her family has her under heavy protection. You think your father has connections? So does hers. There are eyes everywhere in this city, on you, her, and you both. She has plenty of people to protect her. Your father would be asking for retribution if he tried anything.”

Donghyuck finally falls silent then, mulling over Renjun’s words. There’s a sense of relief as he realises you’re no longer in danger. After all, that was his only goal. Even though Donghyuck doesn’t reply, Renjun knows that his words have gotten through somewhat, from the way that the clouds in Donghyuck’s expression have cleared up.

However, another realization quickly sinks in, and Donghyuck’s eyes fall dim again.

“God, then the things I said-”

“You broke her heart, you idiot. Go and find her, before she decides she’s done with you for good,” Renjun says, and Donghyuck turns to him sharply, a confused look on his face.

It is then that Renjun realises how for as oblivious as you are, there is no one more ignorant than Lee Donghyuck himself.

“Y/N’s in love with you too, just in case you haven’t realised.”

Donghyuck looks completely disbelieving, and Renjun tries not to roll his eyes. The both of you are much too similar, he can’t help but think. “Just ask her yourself.” Donghyuck curses under his breath, before grabbing his jacket and running out of the room, and Renjun watches as he goes. 

As much as Renjun is tired of seeing the both of you dance in circles around one another, he wonders if just maybe, this time, the both of you might get your happy ending.

Donghyuck’s mind is blank when he stands underneath your window, the cold air quickly making him clear-headed. He’s trembling, and it’s not from the cold air whipping around, but rather his nerves. He tries not to shiver as he goes through the familiar motions of throwing pebbles against your window.

Five minutes pass, and then ten. With each second, Donghyuck’s heart falls further and further down, and he’s not sure if you want anything to do with him at this moment. Still, he’ll stand here the entire night, if it means he can have a moment with you.

Just then, the door to your window cracks open, and Donghyuck’s breath hitches. You’re still wearing your dress from earlier, but your hair is mussed and your makeup is mostly gone.

Donghyuck thinks you look breathtaking.

It seems that once he confronted the full weight of his feelings for you, they’ve only intensified. He supposes that explains why there’s a strange pressure in his chest whenever he sees your face, and it’s like the breath is stolen from his lungs.

You remain silent, expression unmoving as you stare down at Donghyuck. He finally collects his thoughts, and looks up at you beseechingly.

“I need to talk to you. Can I come in?” You seem to pause, expression stricken, before nodding. Donghyuck exhales loudly in relief, but he hopes you didn’t catch it.

You can’t help but keep your eyes fixed on him as he makes his way up the familiar bricks. As much as you remember his words from earlier, you can’t help but be concerned for his safety. You refuse to admit that his presence here has allowed the tiniest tendril of hope to snake into your heart.

Donghyuck immediately drifts in the direction of your fireplace, even as his eyes remain firmly lodged on you, and you realise he must have been freezing while waiting for you.

However, he seems considerably tense as he turns back to you, eyes searching and assessing. You make a deliberate effort not to show any outward emotion, but you know that your eyes are still red-rimmed from earlier, and there are still visible tear tracks.

“I thought you made your opinion quite clear. Are you here to go into even more detail?” The words come out firm, and Donghyuck tries not to flinch. You have every right to be angry, after all.

“No, it’s not that. I swear it’s not that. I’m here to apologise. And if you decide that you don’t want anything to do with me ever again, that’s okay. I’ll go back right out the way I came.” His eyes are pleading, hands wide open in supplication.

You don’t say anything, and Donghyuck takes it as a positive affirmation for him to keep going.

He has to do this.

“I got…scared,” he confesses, and you arch an eyebrow slightly, waiting for him to continue. But your heart is already shifting towards forgiveness, and you’re not sure if it’s foolish.

“I thought that by pushing you away, I could protect you from my father. I know that I’m wrong now, and I’m sorry. For what I said, which hurt you, untrue as it was. I didn’t think any of it through.”

There’s so much fear and anxiety in each sentence that escapes Donghyuck, and you wonder how much he must have thought about this. About how to protect you in the only way he could, even if it meant hurting you in the process.

Even then, you’re not prepared for what he says next.

“You’re one of the most precious people to me, and I’m not exactly the most clear-headed when it comes to the ones I love.”

There’s a pause, and it feels like the world has tilted on its axis.

“You love me?” You ask, eyes wavering as you search Donghyuck’s for even a hint of deceit.

Yet, you think you already know the answer. Away from the events of today, Donghyuck’s love for you is painfully obvious from everything he does.

He immediately strides over, hands cupping your face gently as he leans down until his face is level with yours.

“Of course I do, you beautiful, brilliant woman. How could I not? I would never tire of this,” he whispers, and your heart constricts delightfully.

You’re not sure if Donghyuck can hear the audible thudding of your pulse, but you feel as if the room is spinning, and he’s the only thing grounding you. You think about what Renjun said in the hallway. The line between platonic and romantic love was so very, very fine. And it muddied so often, so easily, for you and Donghyuck.

Right now, with him in front of you, you think that perhaps, the idea of crossing that line doesn’t sound so bad.

You swallow, head tilting up to look at him. Your best friend, Donghyuck. The person you loved the most, and the only one who could make you laugh and cry with just a few simple words.

‘When you asked if I wanted to join you, in that room. What if I said I wanted to be the only one?” You ask, your gaze aimed directly at Donghyuck’s.

When he takes in your words, his stare darkens briefly, before quickly softening. He steps impossibly closer, until you can feel the warmth of your body against his.

Your lips are so very close to his now. You think your breathing might have just stopped.

“Then you’ll be the only one. Always have been,” he mutters, before closing the distance between the both of you.

When Donghyuck kisses you, it feels as if a piece of your heart has finally settled.

His lips press against yours insistently but gently, and you find your hands making their way up to grip the lapels of his jacket. You’re bending backwards slightly, and might have lost your balance if it wasn’t for the steady grip of his hands, one on your waist and the other on your cheek.

Donghyuck kisses you languidly, as if he has all the time in the world to do so. You find yourself smiling into the kiss, but bite back a gasp when his tongue slips into your mouth briefly, almost teasing.

You pull back, flustered, hands lightly pushing at Donghyuck’s shoulders. Your cheeks are bright red now, but you can’t help but miss the phantom feeling of his lips on yours. Donghyuck smirks now, much more confident, and you refuse to meet his gaze.

Your wide eyes and messy hair, courtesy of Donghyuck, has something softening imperceptibly in his heart. He smooths a palm over your hair, and strokes a thumb over your cheek fondly. A small part of him still thinks he’s dreaming. Still, he knows that this wouldn’t be something he could conjure up by himself.

You’re everything he’s ever wanted and needed, and Donghyuck refuses to let you go if you’re willing to stay.

“I meant it when I said you were the only one. I was fearful that I would scare you away. I know I say stupid things sometimes, and I make bad decisions. But thank you. For not running away, and staying. Fifteen years ago, and now.” The sincerity in Donghyuck’s voice is startling, but comforting all the same.

“You’ve stayed for me too, Donghyuck. I don’t think you realise how much other people love you. you have so much love to give, but it’s okay to receive it sometimes,” you reply, looking at the boy in front of you, the one who carries too much doubt and worry and hides it behind a smooth veneer of cheer and mischief.

He doesn’t say anything, but the way Donghyuck squeezes your hand gratefully tells you that he’s heard you.

The soft sound of voices drifting from outside causes you to freeze, until you realise it’s just Miyeon being put to bed by the nanny. You let out a breath of relief, and Donghyuck smiles gently.

“It’s late. I should go.”

However, just as Donghyuck’s about to make his way back down, you find yourself filled with a sense of reluctance. You don’t want to let him go just yet.

“Hyuck. Stay the night,” you say, and he immediately halts, backtracking into the room. His gaze is doubtful, as he processes your words.

“Like here? With you?” You nod, and it’s almost amusing how it’s Donghyuck’s turn to turn slightly red.

“You act like you didn’t stay over so many times when we were kids. Even though my parents made you sleep on the floor, you’d always pester me to let you get into the bed instead.”

“It’s different now, Y/N.”

“Not that different. You’re still my best friend, Hyuck. We just also happen to be in a relationship,” you state as you tug the blanket over your waist and grab a pillow to pass to him, turning off the lights.

Donghyuck eventually makes his way to the other side, and you turn until the both of you are facing each other while lying down. His features are soft in the dim light of the room, and you run your finger over his profile, pausing briefly at the freckle on his cheekbone.

“Well, then I suppose being romantically involved entitles me to some liberties.” His voice is hushed, filling you with a sense of anticipation.

“Like?” Your voice is muffled, slightly sleepy as you lean into the pillow, but curious.

“Like this,” he whispers, before pulling you towards him by your waist and peppering your face with kisses. Your giggles ring out in the quiet of the room, but they’re quickly silenced by Donghyuck kissing you again. You eagerly reciprocate, lips moving against his in a perfect cadence, and you can’t seem to stop smiling.

It’s easy, being in love with Donghyuck. Almost as if you’ve done it your entire life.

That night, the both of you fall asleep with your limbs tangled together, barely visible in the dim twilight of the room. Your parents may be furious, but you find yourself unable to care, not when you can hear the sound of Donghyuck’s heartbeat from the way you lean against his chest.

After all, what you and Donghyuck have is better than gold, and you wouldn’t exchange a single thing in the world for it.

[mylovelies-docx]

Sorry, I Love You - Part 9

Oh wow, a new chapter? Who'd have thunk it.

My posting schedule is all off and I honestly don't know if I can get it back under control. I have no idea when I'll get time to sit down and write and when inspiration will strike, so I can't assure weekly updates. But I'll try my hardest to get this story out! I have future chapters written, it's just that I have no way of connecting them right now :/ Oops.

Plot: You and Bucky have a good thing going - best of friends that also have more than a little chemistry between the sheets. Everything is fine until you develop feelings for the man who doesn't want a relationship. What will happen when Bucky finds out?

C/W: Ah shit, here we go again. Angst, arguments, jealousy

Word Count: 2,250

Tag List: NOW CLOSED! If you'd like to keep up with this story, please follow my blog and turn on notifications! ❤️ you :)

[Prologue][Part 1][Part 2][Part 3][Part 4][Part 5][Part 6][Part 7][Part 8]

Some moments are easier than others. Sometimes you feel like you’re not pining like a love-sick teenager enough to think that you can actually do this – you can actually be friends with the man you love.

But then there are moments like tonight.

A few weeks have passed since community get-together, and you and Bucky are the new kids in town. Everyone drops by to say hello, leave you with enough food to last the winter, and invite you both back to their homes for dinner. It’s all very sweet, and you would appreciate the hospitality in any other situation.

But the amount of mothers trying to marry their daughters off to Bucky is insane. 

Several have not-so-subtley seated Bucky next to daughters of marriageable age, while everyone else is silently discouraged from interrupting their conversations. It skeezes you out when the girls are barely out of their teens, but most of the girls are around your age or older. Morality-wise, that’s a whole lot more appropriate. Internal monologue-wise, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh doesn’t even begin to cover it. What you feel whenever he laughs at something they say, or looks at them with his intense blue eyes – it hurts. That’s how he used to look at you, once upon a time. Like his life wouldn’t be the same without you in it, like you’re one of the most important people in his world.

To be fair to Bucky, you probably read waaaay more into it than he ever meant. And you only ever really saw that look come out when you were straddling his waist and grinding hard on his cock, skin mottled with his teeth marks and wearing his metal hand as a necklace. 

Stop, stop, stop, stop!

Anyway,

You’re usually placed next to older, widowed relatives, as most of the young men in the town have already settled down and popped out a few kids with their spouses except for Petre. Tessa foists the two of you together at every possible opportunity, hoping you’ll hit it off and decide to get married in the near future. 

Petre is nice, smart, cute, but not really your type. You’re convinced that you’ve only ever had one type and he’s off-limits. But Petre’s company is much more enjoyable than the sad, lonely older men they try to pair you with – it never feels great to be compared to someone’s long lost love – so you don’t mind having someone around your age to talk during these things.

Speaking of.

“It’s a nice night, yeah?” Petre comments. The night is warmer than expected, but you and Petre are still bundled up in your coats as you stroll through the dead copse of trees near the latest dinner party. The sun had set only minutes ago and the stars are making their presence known. There’s next to no light pollution in this area, so you always take the time to admire the night sky when you have the chance. 

You often take walks with Bucky up and down your street as a way to decompress after your shifts at the HYDRA facility. After the first week or so of being everyone’s errand-runner, they’ve slowly built up your workload to include calculations and deductions based on redacted data – it’s not as much information as you’d like, but it’s enough to build a foundational understanding of what the experiment was about.

You hum in agreement and continue walking. It’s about time to turn around and head back, but you can’t bring yourself to return only to watch Bucky flirt with the pretty girls that were also invited.  

“Is something the matter?” Petre asks you.

You startle out of your petty, jealous thoughts. “Hm? Oh, no. Nothing’s wrong,” you reply with a smile.

“It’s just that you seem very distracted tonight,” he responds.

With your hands in your pocket, the only thing you can do is shrug your shoulders. “Just tired, is all. It’s been a long week at the office.”

“Ah, I know the feeling,” Petre commiserates. 

All of the sudden, a wailing, piercing shriek ricochets between the tree trunks and reverberates in your ears. Tensing with adrenaline, you take two steps forward, ready to intervene in whatever events are unfolding in the darkness.

Before you get much further, Petre reaches out and takes hold of your elbow. Turning you around, he starts leading the way back. You try to tug your arm from his grip, but he holds firm.

“The cry of a vixen who is looking to mate. They’re rather vicious creatures this time of year, foxes. We don’t want to get in her way,” Petre deters.

“But…” you begin, looking back over your shoulders and watching for unexpected movement among the swaying branches. “It sounds so real.”

“Terrifying, really. I was just as concerned when they began, as well.” Petre gives you a tight smile and relaxes his grip slightly when you stop trying to pull away.

“What do you mean?” you question.

“What?” Petre’s eyes flash around quickly, looking through the woods that surround you.

“‘When they began’. What do you mean by that?”

“Ah,” Petre replies. “When mating season began.”

There’s no more discussion on the eerily accurate sound of a woman in distress. You can only trust that Petre would know the local fauna and their habits better than you, since you’ve never spent an extended period of time in areas such as this.

***

The neighbor’s house finally comes into view. A lone figure stands silhouetted against the porch as they lean against the railings, their arms braced against the banister and posture rigid. When you get closer, you realize that the figure is Bucky. 

You can’t see his face, but you can feel his eyes on you. And apparently Petre can as well.

“He doesn’t like me?” Petre asks.

“Why do you say that?” The question puzzles you because Bucky has no reason to dislike Petre. He’s been incredibly helpful so far, allowing you to ask as many questions as you want about himself and others and he doesn’t seem bothered by it at all. In fact, you feel as if you and Petre have become friends.

“It just seems like he’s never happy to see me.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that – James just has RBF,” you reply nonchalantly.

“RBF?” Petre replies.

You laugh as you and Petre climb the stairs, only now realizing that he still has a hand on your arm. You’d forgotten all about it, but you miss the slight warmth that permeated through your jacket when he removes his touch. You turn to look at him, but Petre is looking away, his hands now deep in his pockets. Turning your focus onto Bucky, you see him watching Petre, his eyes squinted.

A large smile returns to your face as you reach up and grab Bucky’s chin, squishing his cheeks and making his lips pucker from the pressure. “This –” you say triumphantly, “is an RBF.”

Bucky glares down at you and swats your hand away. You cackle at the perfect example of Resting Bitch Face™ in front of you, throwing your head back in joy. When you right your posture again, you can see a small smile on Bucky’s face as he laughs along with you.

“Whatever,” he murmurs. He shakes his head in exasperation before circling his arm around your shoulders. Bucky begins dragging you back down the steps you had just ascended and you grunt in protest. “It’s time to go,” he says simply.

“Ugh, you’re so rude,” you say to him. Craning your neck as much as possible, you look back towards Petre who remains on the porch. “I’ll see you later!” you call backwards with a wave. Petre raises a hand in return, face hidden in shadow as Bucky’s had been.

Focusing back on the road in front of you, you can practically feel what little mirth Bucky had drains away. Looking up, you notice that his jaw is clenched and a hard look has entered his eye.

“What’s wrong?” Now you’re worried that something happened to Bucky while you were gone that has put him in a bad mood. Did someone say something to him? Did one of the women reject his advances? You can’t see who in their right mind would turn him down, but not everyone feels the same way about him as you do. But if it’s the latter, the guilt you feel only slightly outweighs the relief.

“You don’t think you’re spendin’ too much time with him?” Bucky says between clenched teeth.

A frown appears between your eyebrows as you continue to look up at him. “No?” you respond. “He doesn’t seem to mind.”

“Ofcoursehedoesn’t,” Bucky mutters under his breath, but you can still hear him.

You slide out from under Bucky’s hold, his agitation sparking flames of your own. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You don’t think you’re leadin’ him on a bit, Y/N?” Bucky asks you.

You scoff. “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

“You’re always hangin’ around him!” Bucky quips back. “You’re flirting with him and walking out of parties together. All these people, Petre included, are going to think you’re pitching for an engagement.”

The hurt and pitiful feelings from earlier tonight come flooding back. Only this time, instead of feeling them for what they are, you combine them with the anger his comment brings. How dare he accuse you of leading Petre on? As if he isn’t doing the same thing to all those girls?!

“And what about you?!” you yell, the last word ripping its way between your lips and setting your tongue ablaze. “You don’t think you’re stringing all these girls along behind you? You don’t have any intention of getting into a relationship with any of them, either, do you?” 

As the words escape, you remember how Bucky sat you down and asked for a friends-with-benefits situation. Said he wasn’t ready for a real relationship, but tired of one night stands. How the two of you could help each other out since you weren’t seeing anyone either. The old resentment towards yourself and how you let yourself fall for someone wholly unavailable whiplashes back into your mind after months of repressing it. 

If he could ask that of you, does that mean he’s asked someone else? You usually arrive home later than him, but on some occasions that you are released early, he’s not there. Instead of asking where he’s been, you had just let it slide since it could have been construed as possessiveness. Like your feelings – that Bucky believes to be long gone – entitle you to his life. You hadn’t wanted to risk anything at the time, but now your mind can’t help running wild at the possibilities.

“It’s not like I’m screwing his brains out every time we’re gone!” You shout at Bucky. You had been walking down the road away from the house party which was on a street with few homes, so there’s nobody around to hear your fight. “We’re not in the bathrooms having quickies, he’s not fucking me against a wall, or bending me over his motorcycle! He hasn’t proposed we fuck around with each other until someone better comes along!” 

Your chest heaves with the effort of expelling these vicious words from deep within your heart, and you can feel a burning beginning to creep behind your eyes. You hate getting angry – hate that any strong emotion makes your eyes well with tears and makes you look weak. And in this situation, you are weak – weak against Bucky, weak against yourself, weak against the knowledge that the one man you’ve ever loved never felt the same way and never will. Your inability to keep yourself from falling for someone you knew you could never have? Your jealousy that he is probably sleeping with one or more of the women in town? That makes you weak. 

And you can’t stand to be weak in front of Bucky again.

“Newsflash, Buck: I know how it feels to be lead on by you and it fucking sucks!” You lower your voice slightly and take another step away from him. “I know that wasn’t your intention, and I didn’t feel that way at first, but that’s how I feel now.”

“You were my best friend, Y/N – I didn’t want to lose that!” Bucky exclaims. “And I genuinely thought we were on the same page!” He takes a deep breath and clasps his hands over his eyes before saying, “And seeing you run off with Petre all the time just reminds me of us – how we’d always sneak away to get some time alone. It’s just –” He drops his hands and sighs heavily, looking up at the star-studded sky and then back down to you. “I’m jealous.”

“You’re jealous?” You ask incredulously. “Why?”

“Because –” You can tell that he’s struggling to get this out, and if he hadn’t started this argument and accused you of wronging Petre, you might have been more receptive to what he’s saying. More understanding. But right now, your anger swallows all empathy and hope that his words would usually supply. “Because that could have been us,” he breathes. Bucky takes a tentative step in your direction, but freezes solid at the icy glare you send his way.

“No,” you say flatly, “No, it couldn’t have. You made that abundantly clear when I asked.”

You turn your back on him and start running, ignoring the sound of your name as you leave Bucky behind.

Part 10

Taglist: @jackiehollanderr @rabbitrabbit12321 @12345sebby @blackwood-bodecker-housewifeife @lauraashley93 @themorningsunshinee @happinessinthebeingg @nash-dara @calwitch @stany0url0calwh0res111 @pono-pura-vida @learisa @introverbatim @kentokaze @marvelogic @kaz11283

[ghostfanwriter]

🔥✨ Safe with him ✨🔥

Part two to Safe✨🔥

🔥 Pairing: Raider!Joel Miller x afab!Non-innocent Reader.

✨Synopsys: Joel is trying his best to stay away, but you're also doing your best to break him. When one of his men try to hurt you, you understand why his people respect fear him so much. And just how safe you are with him.

🔥 Features: 🔞 content — Attempt of sexual assault (not graphic), violence, murder, teasing, oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, riding Joel's face, choking, praise with degradation (my favorite 🌟), creampie (he does it twice), a bit of cockwarming at the end.

✨ Word Count: Over 6k.

🔥 About this: First part of this felt so organic, so natural, it was hard to write something that felt like stood up to it. This part is more packed with smut, with some story in-between. Also, make sure to always read the alt text of the gifs I use, in this one I explained the face I imagine him doing sometimes.

✨ Author's note: It took me forever, but it's finally here. Hope you like it as much as you did the first one. The reception to it was insane, and I can't thank you enough for all the love 💕. Once again likes, reblogs and comments are very, highly appreciated 💖

Good reading ✨🔥

🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨

🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨

"Joel, Joel... Joel."

Some days it was the only word you'd say out loud besides 'Yeah, I'm alright. Don't need anything.'

You called, but he seemed to never listen. To never feel you call, to never come back.

You just hoped he would if you actually needed him.

🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨

You thought Stockholm syndrome needed some time to settle in.

But apparently not. From day one, you're into this.

You're into him.

You honestly don't even think about the people back home. How scared and worried they must be for all of you, looking for you and hoping to find you all well one day.

You sometimes think about your people who are here, but The Man always reassures you.

"Told you, doll. They're working. Helping us build, cook, hunt. They're all alive and safe."

Was it true?

Maybe, maybe not.

But you were blocking all of those places in your mind. It was easier if you didn't think.

If you focused on making The Man happy.

If he were happy with you he wouldn't hurt your people, because you cared for them.

Right?

You could only hope. Only trust him somehow.

So you do what you can.

You keep him happy.

You clean, you cook, you wash his clothes. You brush your hair, put on pretty clothes he got you and use some perfume he told his men to find for you on a run for supplies.

You make sure to let him watch you. To finish cooking when you know he's coming home, always when the sun is setting, because you know he likes to see it. Clean — specially low places — when he's around, so you can bend over and give him a glimpse of you underwear.

Those were his favorites: domesticality and profanity.

Playing house with you while enjoying the view, while fantasizing about you.

The problem was...

He never let you touch him again after that night.

He'd look, his eyes always on you, but he wouldn't come close, he wouldn't give in again.

But each night you needed him more, you craved him.

So you used your weapons.

✨🔥′

Today he only left once, first thing in the morning for a couple of minutes, before coming back home and staying for the day. He had lunch with you, talking and laughing as you did, played his guitar on his porch, and watched you while you cleaned his wardrobe.

His favorite hobby.

"I thought you never wore anything under your dresses, baby." He said from his bed as you bent down to clean, giving him a full view of your covered ass.

"You never check." You responded, an edge of disappoinment on your voice.

"Thought I could trust you, sugar. But apparently not, will have to see for myself everyday now." He said, and you stopped cleaning, and, keeping your knees straight, slowly removed your panties, throwing it at him.

He took it with a grunt and slowly started stroking himself, just from looking at you. When he was getting close, he called you.

"Fuck, baby, come here. Don't wanna make a mess for you to clean." He panted, beckoning for you to come over.

You walked to him, seeing that your panties were in his hand, around his cock, wet, covered in his precum.

You kneel in front of him and he grabs the back of your neck, pulling your mouth down on him.

"Just the tip, baby. Just enough for you to take it." You happily do as you're told, sucking his tip for a couple of minutes, while he pumped himself deep and slow, his other hand holding your hair up so he could watch your face, your eyes never leaving his.

His hand was there also to prevent you from taking him in deeper. Which you try to do.

"I said just the tip, baby. Be good for me, don't get greedy on me now."

So you behave. Just the tip, just enough to not let it fall on the floor.

He cums with a grunt, filling your mouth twice before being done, softly pushing you away from him.

"So pretty." He praises as you lick your lips.

Panting, he looks at you and hands you your panties. "I think you should keep it, you'll make better use of it." You say with a smirk as you get up.

"There you're right, angel. This only knows how to stay on my way. But put it back on, there's men around the house today, don't want them seeing what's not theirs."

You lift your right foot, mentioning for him to put it on you. He smiles and passes it through both your legs, caressing and squeezing your thighs as he went up.

His face, close to your pussy, watching it as his thumbs lightly part the front of your folds. He grunts and shakes his head once with a sigh and a smile, pulling your panties all the way up and kissing your clothed mount before adjusting your dress and lightly slapping your ass. "C'mon, finish what you were doing."

You do so, finishing his wardrobe and turning back at him, finding him sitting on the edge of his bed, looking out the window.

"Can you tell me your name?" You ask and he looks at you, without turning his head, just his eyes. "Why do you need to know?"

"I'd be good to put a name to my moans, so you know it's you I'm thinking about." You say with a sweet smile, and now he turns to look at you, shaking his head, smiling and grunting the same way he did while looking at your pussy. "You're the price I pay, angel. Now I get it. You're making me pay for all the things I've done in this life, making my life so fucking hard."

"You know, you could just do it. I don't understand why you think it'd be so bad." He scoffs. "I told you. Don't want your daddy, or your mommy, or your boyfriend to come over later and try to bother my people. We have women... pregnant women. And children. Don't need that right now."

The fact that he is being so true to his word, that he's really not doing anything to not harm his people, so you could go back home one day, just makes you want him even more.

How he never tried anything, how even when he was getting hard from watching you cook, you wouldn't feel bad like you felt when his men look through the window.

You liked how he looked at you. It felt different.

It all makes you wanna keep pushing him.

"You kidnapped me. Us. You think my people aren't looking for us already?" You ask.

"But I'm letting you go. Told you, if I have you, I won't want anyone else to. Will keep you here, with me. Mine." He said, a hint of pain in his voice, and you notice a volume returning to his pants, your own core burning with his words.

"Well, if it makes you feel better, I don't have a mommy, or a boyfriend... Or a daddy to come after your people." You say, touching his shoulder and internally moaning — at least this one you managed to hold back — at how he stiffens under your touch.

"I just want to make you feel good." You say, that low and aroused voice back on your lips. "Want you to make me feel good too." You whisper, now running your fingers through his hair, and he closes his eyes, indulging in the gesture.

You caress his hair for a few seconds, and he hums, moving his head onto your hand for you to reach new places.

"Joel." He says with his eyes still closed. "The name you should call is Joel." You run your fingers over his hair one more time, pulling it away from his face and kissing his lips softly, holding his head from both sides.

He doesn't pull away, allowing you to touch his lips for the first time.

"The man I'll call is Joel. And I hope you listen. Hope you come when I call you. When I need you." You whisper over his lips, his eyes opening to look at you.

You let him go and walk away, his eyes following you.

✨🔥'

"Joel."

"Joel."

Joel was not soft.

That he wasn't.

But a pretty girl is any man's perdition.

And when your voice calling him sounded so sweet, so nice, so needy, he couldn't not come to you.

"Sounds like a fucking angel, baby." He said, standing by the door, that you convenently left open for him. You whimper when you see him, your eyes dropping to his pants.

"Don't get any ideas, though. I'm just here to watch. C'mon, take this off you." He said, walking towards you and removing the blanket you covered yourself with — knowing he'd come and remove it. Your knees are bent, so you palm yourself, closing your legs and looking into his eyes.

He sits by your feet. "Open them, baby. We both know you're not shy." But you don't, just looking into his eyes, smiling and biting your lower lip, and he laughs.

You want him to touch you.

"I see. Won't work, though." He spreads your legs, then pulls your hand away. You lift your hips, trying to brush on his hand, and he grunts, seeing you all wet and swollen, pushing your hips back down.

Knowing it's all for him, right in front of him, makes him almost fall mouth first on you, makes him want to taste you and make you cum for him.

But he knows he can't.

"It's because of you." You moan, and he shoots you a stern and scary look, his eyebrows low and his eyes dark. "For you." He swallows, sitting further from you onto your bed and opening his belt.

You mention to go to him, but he shoots you that look again.

The look that simultaneity makes you want to behave and misbehave. To be good for him so he'll praise you, and to be bad to see what he's gonna do about it.

But you know that, slowly, you're gaining him. So you sit back down and spread your legs.

"Good girl."

He pulls himself out of his boxers, already hard and wet. You lick your lips and return your circles around your clit, inserting one, then two fingers inside yourself.

He grunts and groans softly as his own movements become more desperate. His eyes never leaving your pussy.

You're dripping onto the sheets. There's a puddle forming underneath you, and he can't take his mind out of how good you must feel. How nice and tight, warm and wet you have to be.

He moans once and you retribute the sound. You fasten your circles, being as deep on him as he is on you. Thinking about how nice and painful it'd be to take him in, how thick and big he is. How much you crave to feel him twitch and pulse inside you. How rough he'd be with you, how he'd care for you after it.

That's the thing with him. You know how rough he can be, but you've also seen his softer side. You want him to heartlessly pound you, be mean to you, make you cum until you're dumb, whisper things in your ears, call you names.

And then call you his angel, tell you how good you were for him while he caress your hair until you fall asleep on his chest.

The thought makes you cum, a loud and shameless "Joel" leaving your lips, then being the only word you can put out. Calling and crying out for him, needing him.

He touches your thigh, making you look at him. Your eyes hazed, showing him how far you were, how high he took you before even touching you.

"I'm here, baby. Come here to me." He coos, and you craw until him, lowering yourself in front of his dick, his hand coming for your hair, helping it up.

He doesn't say anything about how deep you can go, so you start sucking just his tip, careful and tight, feeling his precum drip and leak into your mouth. He thrusts into your mouth and you take him in further with a moan, going as deep as you can, opening your throat to make room for him.

He grunts and you can already feel him pulsing on your tongue. "So fucking good, baby. Gonna cum in this mouth."

You moan as you taste him flood your mouth, drinking it like you haven't seen water in weeks.

You keep sucking him after he's finished, and he lets you, caressing your hair and moaning as you do so.

"You know this could end up really bad for your people, don't you, baby?" He asks, stroking your hair as you run your tongue up his length.

"I know, Joel. But I think I want to see it. Watch you keep me with you." You say right before licking around his tip like a lollipop and taking him in your mouth again. He furrows his brows, piercing his lips together.

"You have no idea what you're saying, sugar. Not something you'd like to see." He says, pulling himself out of your mouth and fixing his pants before getting up.

He gives you a light and sweet peck on the lips, grabs a towel on your bathroom and comes back to you. He opens your legs, cleaning you. "I would love to see it, Joel. Not to my people. But I'd love to see what you'd do."

You say as he kisses your forehead and walks outside your room, never turning around to look at you.

✨🔥'

Joel was not soft.

That he wasn't.

So when he spent his days thinking about you — not only wanting to come home to see you, but actually started to think about you, to wanna come home to see you — he knew he had to go away.

Your people were of great help for his people, so it still wasn't the time to let you go, but he needed distance.

So he called some of his men on a few days long run for supplies and food.

He left men watching his house. "I want one of you by this fucking door every second I'm not here. She tells me anything happened to her, anyone, any of you, fucking looked through the window and I'm killing every single one of you." You heard him tell the men.

Then he came to you, holding you on a loose embrace, removing the hair from your face. "You need anything and they get it for you, okay? Anything. Just ask. Keep the curtains closed and don't give them any smiles or looks. These men are animals, they don't know how to behave close to a pretty girl like you."

And with that he left.

For days.

Days where you called him, desperately, breathy, over and over again. Your bedroom walls tired of the name, tired of your whimpers, your moans, your cries.

"Joel, Joel... Joel."

Some days it was the only word you'd say out loud besides 'Yeah, I'm alright. Don't need anything.'

You called, but he seemed to never listen. To never feel you call, to never come back.

You just hoped he would if you actually needed him.

✨🔥'

"Joel!"

His name, always so passionate and sweet on your lips, was now a desperate cry for help. A prayer, a beg.

His men never dared to try anything with you. They'd knock on the door and you'd answer without opening it, saying you were alright and didn't need anything. But not today. Not this one.

You screamed his name as one of his men, the biggest one that he left to keep watch on you, pinned you down on your dinner table, your hands behind your back and your face painfully pressing on the wood.

"Keep screaming, bitch. He won't fucking hear you. And no one's gonna come to help you. No one's gonna fucking dare walking inside his house." He says with a laugh. "The more you scream the longer this will last."

You keep screaming, calling for help and calling for him.

Then the man let's you go, a heavy thud following.

You turn around, finding Joel. His eyebrows low and nostrils wide, his lips pierced and his hair disheveled. He's holding a thick piece of wood.

He looks at you and his eyes soften instantly, coming towards you to cup your face. "Did he hurt you?" He asked, his eyes attentively watching your face for any bruises or scratches.

"No, no he didn't. He just walked in, I... I asked him for some things and when I opened the door he— I should've waited for him to walk away before opening the door, I'm so sorry, Joel. I'm so sorry, you told me to not do it." You cried, burying your face on his chest and blaming yourself for giving the man the opportunity to invade his house.

"Don't, hey. Don't fucking say that. You could've smiled at this piece of shit, talked to him. He shouldn't have tried anything. Shouldn't fucking hurt you like this. It's not how I fucking work around here." He says, his voice and expression darkening at the end, when he hears the man grunt under him.

He carefully lets go of you, turning to the man and grabbing him by the colar of his shirt.

None of the tenderness with which he held you left on him.

"Stay away from the windows." He tells you sternly while dragging the man on the floor.

The man's twice his size. But still he pulls him out of his house like he's nothing. Anger boiling inside him, making him straddle the man on the floor, punching his face once, twice.

Again and again.

The man is screaming, pushing him, begging him to stop, trying to get way.

But he's not himself. He is an animal, he is consumed by his darker self.

The man drags himself around on the floor and he holds him in place, punching him.

His backpack and rifle still on his back.

He could just shoot the man, but that wouldn't make it.

He had to do it. With his bare hands. He wanted to feel it, to take his life away from him.

"You like screaming, don't you, son of a bitch? Wanted to hear screams? Then fucking scream!" He shouted louder than the man, the people around him just watching.

The man's body goes limp, blood pools around them and runs on the floor, but he keeps going, until there's not a man under him anymore.

Until there's not a face, not anything but a puddle of meat, bones and blood.

He gets up, his face like you've never seen before, his eyes wide, fully black, eyebrows low, nostrils widening as he breath, his mouth open and his teeth clenched. His hand hurt, blood from the man and from himself dripping from it.

"This is not how I fucking work!" He shouts, turning around to look at everyone. "And you don't fucking fuck with what's mine!" His voice coming out as a snarl. Like a feral dog, spit flying from his mouth.

Now you see it. Now you understand.

That's why his people are so lawful.

Not only because he's brutal.

But because he's brutal to protect.

The ones that don't respect or trust him, fear him. They know what he's capable of.

He killed a man twice his size with his bare hands to keep you safe.

He killed a man he probably trusted, considering he trusted you to him. All to keep you safe.

And you loved it.

You loved it and part of you wants to see it again. To see him act so brainless, to kill a man like it's nothing. All to keep you safe.

To hear him call you his.

He sees you through the window and worry invades his face, making him rush back inside. His heavy and loud footsteps sending chills down your spine.

He finds you by the window and stops on his feet. Your eyes are wide and scared, your chest raising and falling with force.

"I told you not to look out the window." He says.

This.

This is what he never wanted.

He never wanted you to see this part of him. The part he knew would push you away, would make you never want to see him again.

Would make you afraid of him.

He holds his hand up in front of him, letting go of his backpack and rifle. "I'm sorry. None of this should've happened. I shouldn't have left you here alone, with these men. This was why I kept you here, with me, so they wouldn't hurt you." He says. "I'm sorry you had to see it, I couldn't let him go any other way."

This.

This is what you wanted to see. Him feral, protective, caring for you.

Keeping you safe.

You run to his arms, climbing on him. Your lips looking for and crashing against his.

It takes him a second, but when he realizes what's happening, he groans and wraps his arms around you, holding you tight and close to him. Like he's afraid you'd snap out of it and push him away.

You lick between his lips, right where they meet, and he grunts, opening his mouth for you, taking your tongue in his and letting you explore his mouth before pushing his tongue inside your mouth and rolling it around yours. His beard scraping your cheeks, making you moan and press yourself further onto him.

Wanting to finally feel all of him.

Your arms are tugging and squeezing around his torso and his arms, sometimes pulling on his hair and earning grunts from him. His arms are pressing you against him, his heart beating against your chest. He squeezes your waist and your hips, firmly holding the back of your neck and your cheeks.

Your hands not satisfied with touching just one place at once. All the desire and hunger emerging to your surfaces.

You stay tangled like that for what feels like hours before he pulls away, out of breath, staring at you.

"I loved watching. You were so... Brutal. I loved it." You say as his eyes roam around your face.

"You don't have to do this." He whispers, giving you a final chance to step away and not regret this later. "I want this, Joel. It's all I think about. You. Called you everyday, every night, since you left. Couldn't finish sometimes without you with me. And when I did it was for you, all thinking about you." You say, snuggling your face on his neck, pressing your nose against his vein.

"I need you, Joel. Please."

He's gone.

He did his best to avoid it, to please himself with you without actually touching you. But he can't deny what he craves since he first saw you.

"You beg so nice, baby. Should make you do it more often." He says right on your ear, making you shiver and moan softly. Turning into a puddle under him.

He bites your neck, sucking and licking, your perfume guiding him, making him want to crawl under your skin, to merge his body with yours.

You're drowning on him, dazed and high, indulging on the way he holds you, grunts against your skin and how open your whole body is for him.

But when you're starting to fully get lost...

He pulls away.

"My room. C'mon." He pants, turning and pushing you towards the stairs. You giggle and run upstairs, him laughing and following close to you, his long steps enough to not let you get too far.

When you reach his bedroom, he grabs the back of your shirt, turning you around and taking you in his arms, his mouth all over your jaw, neck and collarbones. "Please, Joel. I need more of you."

"Always so impatient, baby." He says before pulling your shirt out of you and skillfully unclasping your bra. He stares at your boobs for a second, his mouth hanging open while he breaths heavily. He grabs them, kneading them and grunting. He squeezes them a bit too hard and you whimper.

He groans and takes you back in his arms, still squeezing your boobs and kissing you again.

He tastes like cheap alcohol and cigars, and you drink every drop of him like he's the thing you needed all along.

You could live off of just him. Just looking at him, just smelling him, just eating and drinking from him.

Your hand goes to his belt, but he pushes it away. "I ain't tasted you yet, baby. Not fair that you get it again." He says, pushing you on his bed.

You fall and start removing your skirt. He helps you and falls down to his knees, kissing a path from your bellybutton to your lips. "Can't wait to taste you baby. Know you taste so good for me." He whispers while kissing your throat before kissing his way back down, stopping only at your nipples to suck and roll his tongue around them.

He stops when he reaches your mount, going to your inner thighs, his hands keeping you spread, squeezing the skin of your thighs. "Always on my fucking way." He growls at your panties, roughly pulling them out of you.

Then he gets paralyzed. His gaze never leaving your pussy, his mouth open, his jaws moving from side to side.

"Joel, please." You beg and he hums against your skin. "Right here, baby. Won't go anywhere." He says right before licking a — painfully slow and strong — streak up your folds. From your entrance to where they connect at he top.

"As good as I dreamed." He licks you again, returning to your entrance and inserting his tongue on you, rolling it around inside you, making you sink yourself down on his face. "Even better, actually." He sucks on your clit, humming against your skin as you pull his hair.

"Want you to do it, baby." He says pulling away and grabbing your arms, sitting you up. He lays with his head on his pillow and beckons for you to come over, which you do, going for his belt again.

"No, baby. C'mon, up here." He says with a smile, and you move up higher, straddling his chest. "You know I could kill you like this, don't you?" You say, going higher and hovering above his face.

"Sweetest death a man could have in a world like this, angel." He breathes before pulling you down on him, practically french kissing your pussy, his tongue rolling around your entrance and your clit, going inside you and rolling around. Sucking, licking and even biting everything he could reach, his hands squeezing your ass, your hips and your thighs.

You pull his hair and roll your hips, sinking yourself, his eyes snap open to watch you as you moan and whimper, your whole body shaking as you feel your insides burn, ready to release what you craved to give him for so long.

"Joel." You moan, feeling yourself get closer and closer, and he groans as you grind yourself harder on him, swiping his nose and only pulling away to let him breath. But he quickly pulls you back down, sinking you on his tongue.

The closer you get to your orgasm, the further you go from reality. The deeper you dive on the man underneath you.

Hunger and desire marking the route of his tongue all over you, finding all your favorite spots.

He holds you down as he sucks on your clit, your hips rolling circles on his chin, his beard scratching your entrance, making you pull away.

He groans and sinks you back down, his hands squeezing your hips and keeping you steady as you cum, your insides convulsing around nothing, his eyes open, focused on your face as it contorts and your body tries to stay up.

He grunts as he dries you, sucking every drop out of you as your body twitches at how sensitive it feels.

He lets go of your hips and you collapse back on top of him, laying on top of his belly, breathing, your body going up and down as his own breath moves his chest up and down.

You feel high, like you're on a boat, his breath like the tide. You move up and down, slow and deep, swimming on him, in awe of the fact that this is actually happening.

You're actually with him.

He inserts a finger inside you and you feel his dick twitch inside his pants, against the back of your head.

"So fucking tight, baby. Gonna feel so good."

You try to flip around, wanting to taste him again, but he holds you by the knees and goes on top of you, kissing you again as you eagerly undo his belt and remove his pants.

He finishes them off and climbs back on top of you. You grab him and stroke him deep and slow, getting lost on how hard and thick he feels on your hands, whimpering just to imagine the stretch he'd need to go inside you.

"Think you're ready, baby? Waited for this for so fucking long." He says with his mouth glued to your throat, kissing and nibbing at your skin. "Please, Joel." You moan, fastening your movements on him.

He grunts, thrusting into your hand for a while, groaning as your other hand pulls on his hair.

He removes your hand from his length and guides it to your folds, running his tip through them a few times to gather some of your slick — and tease you.

"So nice, so wet for me. All for me." He pants before teasing your entrance with his tip, rolling it around it and thrusting it in slowly, your insides engulfing him. "So — grunts — fucking tight too." He smiles on your neck, and you lower yourself, trying to get more of him in.

"Joel, please." You cry, and he raises himself to looks at you. "Please what, baby? You keep saying it but you don't use your words."

"Fuck me, please. I need you inside me." You say with a smile, your voice a mix of arousal and almost pain. "Good." He smiles, kissing you, rolling his tongue around yours and pushing in, your legs spreading further apart in an attempt to make more room for him.

The air inside your lunges freezes, and you can't exhale while he's moving.

He goes all the way in, grunting at how good you feel around him. How warm, tight and wet you feel. How your arms held him tight on top of you, how your nails dug into his skin. Things he hadn't felt in forever.

Things he knew only you could give him.

Things he wanted only you to do.

"Doing so well, baby. Opening up for me like this." He praises when he bottoms out, giving you some time to adjust as you twitch and pulse around him.

You move your hips, and he corresponds the movement, slowly thrusting out before going all the way back in, setting a deliciously passionate pace. Slow and deep, making your insides move and readjuste to receive him.

You whimper when he supports himself on his hands, missing his weight on top of you. He starts moving faster, harder, even deeper somehow.

His eyes fixated on your breasts, on how they move with the force of his thrusts. "You like them?" You ask, keeping your voice sweet and low, and he looks at you through his lashes, his low eyebrows and his smile making his expression almost sinister.

It makes you go back to when he was on top of that man. To remember how feral he was, how violent and visceral he was. How much you want him to use that on you, to fuck you with as much voracity as he killed the man.

Thinking about it makes your pussy clench around him. Makes your eyes falter and your heart to pound faster against your ribs.

You wrap your arms around his neck, lifting yourself and holding onto him, his strong arms keeping both of you away from the mattress. You bite his neck, his pulsing vein too welcoming to deny.

"I loved watching, Joel. How you did it, how you did it with your hands. I fucking loved it." He grunts, his own orgasm feeling just a thrust away. "Being inside you makes me want to go back there and fucking kill him again, baby. You feel so good, he'd have hurt you and I don't know what I'd do if I let that happen."

You moan, his thrusts getting harder and sloppier. "But you did, Joel. You kept me safe, like you said you would. I loved it." You say between moans, the burn on your core about to snap. You reach for your clit and draw fast circles around it, almost immediately cumming around him, squeezing and almost expelling him out of you.

He grunts, your pussy milking him, making his orgasm hit him hard, probably harder than ever.

He fucks his cum inside you, rough and deep, as you fall back on the mattress and become a puddle underneath him. He holds your knees up, going even deeper and making you scream his name, the tip of his dick hitting that perfect spot inside you, making your eyes close shut and your mouth hang open.

His pace is anything but tender now. He's fully lost on how good you feel, how much he thought about you, how good it feels to finally give in, to finally be inside you, to finally claim you as his.

Another orgasm crashes over you, his name falling from your lips in a way that shows he's the first one to make you feel this, to make you feel this much. In a way that shows that he's the only one you'll ever think about, the only one you'll ever need and crave after this.

When you manage to open your eyes, you find his stare on you. His nostrils wide, his eyes dark and passionate, his teeth clenched and his neck looking like it would burst.

"Joel." You cry. "Right here, baby. Looking so pretty all dumb like this for me, just saying my name, calling me like I'm ever gonna leave your — grunts — fucking side again." He says, your belly fluttering with his words.

He flips you both around, laying on his back and holding you on top of him, your body doing it's best to not collapse over him.

"C'mon, ride it, baby. Want to see you." His words fuelling your muscles, making you roll your hips around him, gathering the conscience to move up and down.

You support yourself on his shoulders, his muscles flexing as you squeeze them. You moan when he pulls you down into a kiss, one of his hands on your hips and the other going from the back of your neck to your clit, drawing overwhelming circles around you.

"Joel, I can't." You cry out when your clit throbs on his fingers. "Course you can, angel. Do it for me, c'mon, give me another one." He asks, and you focus on him, on his muscles, his face, the way he fills you, the way his rough fingers work you, the way his hands is hurt from what he did, the way he brutally punched the man, the way he yelled, called you his.

You feel your orgasm approaching again, and your body starts to give in. But as soon as it hits you and your body softens, one of his hands leaves your hips and come for your throat, squeezing tight. Your eyes snap open, your hands holding onto his forearm.

"Joel." You whine.

"Just holding you up, baby. Just keeping you steady." He says with a smirk, your insides convulsing around him, trying to hold onto him, as if to never let him go.

It hugs him so nice, so deep and so tight, he can't help but allow his own new orgasm to hit him. He maintains his hand around your throat, but his body jerks up, and he pulls you down enough to kiss you.

He grunts as his tongue rolls around yours, his lips sucking yours, his beard burning your face.

A burn you already love.

His thrusts get rougher, deeper and faster as he empties himself inside you again, grunts and groans leaving his throat as you feel him twitch inside you.

He lets go of your neck and you fall on top of him, breathing and praying that this isn't just one of the dreams you've had with him. Praying that he's here, underneath you, still inside you, holding you around his arms, his warmth comforting your exhausted body.

You snuggle your nose on his collarbones, right on the middle of his pecks, and he strokes your hair.

"As bad as you thought?" You ask with a laugh. "Fucking devastating, baby. Don't even want to get out of you." He replies with a smile, and you clench around him, so he knows you're in no hurry to be empty again.

"Mine. My good girl, gonna be all mine. Can't wait to always find you home. Won't ever let you go." You smile, you don't wanna go anywhere.

"Nowhere else I'd rather be, Joel. No one else I'd rather be with." You confess, your head buried on his neck. "No one would keep me safe like you."

"Would do anything to keep you with me, baby. Anything." He says, hugging you tighter.

You hope so.

You're counting on it.

🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨

So... Did you like it? Writing the last sex scene was so hard, it always felt like there was something missing to it. But at end I was happy with it.

Let me know what you think, I'd love to hear your feedback 💖

💌

@https-hann 🫶🏻

[onecinder]

The meaning behind soup in Brokeback Mountain

Okay after rewatching the soup scenes like 10 times and reading old forum posts I just really need to talk about this. (Said forum: https://ennisjack.com/forum/index.php?topic=812.0)

Prophetic soup - it foreshadowed the ending

Ennis outwardly said he’s alright with beans but Jack bitches about the beans and so Ennis relents. This reveals so much: one, Jack might be dealt a crappy hand but he won’t just lie back and accept it, and two, Ennis really wants to please Jack. (Or rather, Ennis is drawn in by his natural desire (aka gayness) — Jack in this case is the natural desire. So by going with Soup, he’s giving in to that.)

Jack may bitch about things but unlike normal complaining, he actually does something about it. He told Ennis quite firmly, ‘no more beans’. Even though soup is so much harder to pack. Jack will still take the risk.

This is important because it ties into what the story explores — like, chances are, if they had actually chosen beans instead of soup, the food wouldn’t all be ruined from a small fall after the bear scared the mules away. But because the soup wasn’t packaged as well, it was ruined. If only they had chosen the easier option, it would have surely led to the food’s survival. This is literally an analogy of Ennis and Jack’s situation — Jack won’t accept the hand that’s dealt to him so he chooses the harder path (loving Ennis and pursuing a proper life with him, no more sneaking around) but obviously that led to his death (well, the circumstances are intentionally ambiguous but you get the point.) But this soup and bean situation definitely foreshadowed the unfortunate ending.

It's a euphemism

See this quote of Ennis’s: “I never eat soup.” The Basque said this in response, with a raised eyebrow: “It’s too early in the summer to be sick of beans.” Could ‘soup’ be a euphemism for something else? Just for the sake of this analysis I’ll define euphemism: a euphemism is basically a gentler, more proper way of saying something nasty — in this case, ‘soup’ could be a euphemism for homosexuality. Ennis says is pretty harshly, too, or maybe he’s just trying to convince himself — he could be saying, “I’m not queer.” YET HE ORDERS THE SOUP ANYWAY. BECAUSE JACK WANTS IT AND LET’S BE HONEST, HE WANTS IT TOO, EVERYONE’S SICK OF BEANS, it’s just that he can let it slide while Jack will NOT.

Soup and beans are really the only thing on the menu. They just have to deal with that. But it's 'too early in the summer' and at the end of the summer they return to their 'normal diet' aka heteronormativity. Women on the menu, not men. (Forgive that wording)

Ennis's care

Okay, now onto the most obvious thing it's trying to imply.

It's just Ennis showing his care for Jack. Jack is always the one making the moves and trying to further their relationship because he's:

Not traumatised by the hate crimes against gay people that Ennis saw as a child, and

His personality makes him less afraid of the consequences of being openly queer than Ennis. His desire to be his true self is also probably stronger than Ennis -- we see him not just try to pursue a life with Ennis but also attempt to do it with other men after he saw Ennis wasn't going to budge (which is another example of him not accepting the crappy hand life deals him while Ennis just settles for it every time -- "if you can't fix it, you gotta stand it")

But Ennis shows his care much more subtly. For example, being willing to take soup for Jack and 'taking the blame' when the trader chides him for choosing the hard option by saying that he was the one who was tired of beans.

Also, how willing he was to switch over to be the one monitoring the sheep up there in the mountains instead of jack.

Buuut these last few points are pretty obvious to anyone who watches so i'm not going to elaborate more on that, I just needed to get this out of my system.

Complainers never win

I really love how the soup is just an analogy for their life situation. And Jack's always complaining, yes, but he wants to DO something about it. For example, he is the one who his son's school hates because he 'complains too much' (his words) and that's why it's always Lureen who has to call. He acknowledges this himself.

He is the one who brings up worries about his son's possible dyslexia (in the short story, not in the movie) and pushing for a better tutor, medication, anything that might help Bobby live a better life.

So, yes. He's a big complainer. But instead of being a brat, in reality he's just identifying problems and trying to sort them out. That's just the type of guy he is.

...And look where that got him. It really says something about the story. That's why I think the ending suited them perfectly even though it was so, so painful and I and many other fans would definitely feel better if it was happier.

[thenightling]

What's going on in regard to Neil Gaiman. What we know thus far? Early this morning several online news sources posted stories that Neil Gaiman had been accused of "sexual assault." I put that in quotations because roughly one year ago I saw similar headlines in regard to Danny Elfman, which, when you actually read the articles he was mostly being accused of being creepy and perhaps some sexual harassment, i.e. walking around naked in front two accusers, and telling at least one of them that he liked to watch them sleep. The headlines in regard to Danny Elfman were so distorted that the Internet seemed convinced he had r8ped someone and was even arrested. (He was never arrested). Danny Elfman denied the accusations and things quieted down. Now back to Neil Gaiman. The articles seemed dubious at best. I'm NOT doubting any potential victim. I am doubting the writers of the articles. I noticed very careful wording so that the articles could infer and suggest that Neil Gaiman may have assaulted the women but the only thing actually confirmed in the article was that these two women (in their twenties) had been in a consensual relationship with Neil Gaiman. The intimacy, apparently, was "rough." and "painful." Supposedly Neil even told one of them "You need to be punished." and he used his belt on her. This sounds like badly handled BDSM. Even the cartoon Family Guy will tell you that you need a proper "safe word." Anyway, if you read the articles carefully, at no point do they say the women said the encounter was non-consensual. Just that it hurt. And it was unpleasant. They even go out of their way to say that it was consensual but that part seems buried under the sensationalism and flashy headlines. I understand that the human brain is still developing until age twenty-five. And that makes any relationship with someone under the age of twenty-five (even if legal) questionable and uncomfortable. But based on my math it seems the youngest of the women was twenty-six and she, herself, has said the relationship was consensual.

No, it is NOT a good idea to get sexually involved with your child's nanny (as one of them was). No, it is not a good idea to get involved with anyone under the age of twenty-five if you are older. However, I will NOT condemn anyone over the age of twenty-five in a consenting relationship, no matter the age gap. That is agism. And I will not diminish a woman's agency and infantilize her because "Eww, old men are icky!" Cher is a happy relationship with a man forty-years her Jr. And Michael Sheen's wife is younger than him but she does not feel "groomed" because of the age gap.

Yes, there's an uneven power dynamic but as uncomfortable as that might be, it is also not illegal. And it's kind of unfair. Neil Gaiman is pretty much a rock star among authors right now. Eight TV shows based on his characters in less than ten years is rare for a writer. Who could possibly have an even power dynamic with him? Stephen King? Sorry, he's married. Now we come to later in the day. The Internet has heavily condemned Neil Gaiman as a creep, a groomer, a perv, etc... One of Neil Gaiman's "Victims" attempts to clear the air over on X (formerly Twitter) by stating that her words were taken out of context by a conservative podcast. Conservatives have had it in for Neil Gaiman for his very liberal and vocal political views, including being pro-trans rights. But this wasn't good enough.

“It's Easier to Fool People Than It Is to Convince Them That They Have Been Fooled.” – Mark Twain.

The woman, who is one of the two supposed-accusers, is insisting that her words are being taken out of context, that her relationship with Neil Gaiman was consensual. And she is sorry all of this is happening. Those who wanted to believe Neil Gaiman to be a villain in this story couldn't accept her statements and started to over-analyze her wording, calling out things like the wording "It became consensual" which, I admit, is a very weird choice of words, but I think it was in regard to so many people telling her that at her age (Mid-twenties) she didn't really have agency, and he took advantage of her idolizing him. I think she was trying to tiptoe around those who would go "Oh, honey, it was an uneven power dynamic and your brain wasn't fully developed even if you were legally an adult." But alas it didn't work. So it shifted from "Believe all women" to "Believe all women except if they recant or say their words were twisted out of context." I, myself, was scolded for not "Listening to the victim" so I had to point out to the person that at no point did any of the articles actually quote the supposed victims in regard to what Neil Gaiman supposedly did to them. There are no direct quotes. Things are just implied. So one "victim" is recanting. And I can't tell you how accurate it is but apparently one of the two (possibly the one recanting) is prone to "false memories" because of a psychological condition. Too many people are poopooing this but I have actually known someone formerly very close to me who was the victim of her own false memories. It was because of a personality disorder. Disorders like bipolar disorder, histrionic personality disorder, Dissociation, certain forms of maladaptive day dreaming, and even taking the wrong or mis-prescribed medications (anti-psychotics in someone who doesn't need them can cause an adverse reaction). This is ALL that we know so far. "You wouldn't defend him if he wasn't your favorite author." Actually, he's not. I went through a several year Sandman obsession but I'm also obsessed with Dracula, Faust, Frankenstein's monster (literary version), and most Gothic literature. It cycles. It's hard for me to have a favorite author. It varies based on my mood. Right now it might be the late Ray Bradbury. I defended David Bowie when the Internet condemned him as a ped0phile, even though the supposed victim even tried to tell everyone that they got the story all wrong. It's true she was an underage groupie but she had a list of rockstars she wanted to sleep with and she bragged (and still brags) about tricking Bowie by waiting until he was high and convincing him that she was an adult.

I defended Danny Elfman when headlines spread online that said things like "Second victim of sexual assault accuses Danny Elfman" but when you click the article it was actually sexual harrassement and Danny Elfman, of course, denied it happened. And those accusations quietly died down and were very obviously exaggerated by certain dubious "news" sources. Some people were so quick to want to condemn him that they used his song "Little girls" as proof that Danny Elfman was a pervert even though that song, ironically, was meant to call out and shame sexual abuse in Hollywood. The character who narrates the song is caught in the end. And in the case of Neil Gaiman I will wait and see because right now it looks like the accusations and articles are actually contradicting the own supposed accusers. I don't like this "believe all women except if they say that they're being misquoted" nonsense.

[moodymisty]

Hello! I stopped by this reply of yours: https://www.tumblr.com/moodymisty/741368555347574784/i-now-have-a-deep-need-for-the-salamanders-all?source=share. After reading it, I wonder what you think the situation will be if we switch to Iron Hands (considering Vulkan has a good relationship with my boy even though their personalities are different) and Iron Warrior (simply because Perturabo personally had an interesting story with a woman by the lore)? Thank you in advance for your time.

-For the Iron Warriors, there's definitely a big sea between Perturabo's beloved and his legion. While they may not be nearly as 'brutal industrial meat grinder' now as they will be in the far future, the idea of their primarch divulging any of his valuable time to such pursuits is considered pointless and imbecilic to his sheltered, emotionally stunted Astartes.

This of course goes heavily at odds with Perturabo, who in all of his grooming on Olympia to be a staunch warlord, still desired things like the arts. Hense why right off the bat, it's all off to a terrible start.

It could also go the twisted jealously route. After all it’s infamous that Perturabo hated his legion and spoke to them little, I'm sure it would burn to see the primarch you bled, got mutated, and slaved away for give his time to a random human over the thousands of men under his command.

No matter if it's jealously, anger, hatred, or a combination of it all; They despise the way they feel inadequate in comparison to the apple of Perturabo's eye.

The idea of them desiring his beloved's company is largely laughable, other than a few outliers. A few might exchange some words with you, follow orders, maybe even eye the murals you're painting with some curiosity, but not much more.

It's something that makes Perturabo quite angry, actually. That they don't see you with the same reverence that he does.

-For the Iron Hands, I think you're far more likely to see those sorts of friendly scenarios, but rarely. In the early days of the Iron Hands they didn't have that 'flesh is weak' ideology nearly as much (you can thank centuries of message twisting and some outside meddling for that) So i think the idea of their primarch bringing a 'mortal' woman into the chapter is more than a bit peculiar, but they aren't furious.

Interactions are often times extremely to the point, and outright. It's probably a bit refreshing to have them be so honest. And something I would assume for most of the legions, they find it nice that they can speak to you, and then you can speak to militarium commissars or lords without the headbutting.

You can translate 'Astartes' to 'mortal' you always say. Ferrus finds it funny. His captains take advantage of it at every opportunity.

And interest in the culture of their legion and a similar mind for straightforward battle strategy earn good points with them. They'll spend far more time with a 'mother' who thinks like them. It's a very good day when you join them for going over massive planetary maps for strategic planning.

It also makes life far easier for Ferrus, if his beloved can assimilate into the legion without the same teethgnashing that happens with Perturabo's legion.

[mageofseven]

Okay first off, I wanna say sorry for how long it took me to get to this! I had intended to get to this quickly, but I got too focused and inspired with my ship series' I've been writing.

Better late than never though, right? 😅

Reminder for others that this continues off of this post. Since that post is from a point before I started writing for Mephisto, sadly my sweet noble tsundere won't be in here.

Now let's get started~

•▪︎▪︎◇°●♡●°◇▪︎▪︎•

Okay so I would like to start by organizing these men into their roles. Those who hovered, those who didn't but still were actively by her side and taking cave of her, those who took care of the pregnancy related issues not directly attached to MC's being (scheduling doctors appointments, paying bills, retrieving any med or vitamins she needs, etc.), those who heavily carried her via emotional support, those who accidentally would make her feel worse, and those who had a way of making her destress as if nothing has changed, maybe some others if I think of more as I go.

After this, I will continue with the story of her pregnancy and how the men discover and react tor her carrying multiples. Unlike most of my pregnant MC stories though, I'm not going to give her some huge risk in this one. She...well, the poor woman is already under enough stress as it is 😅

~

The Major Hoverers:

Lucifer- No surprise here. This man is...well, he is stressed and anxious in general, but to see his love so anxious and in low spirits while knowing he himself might be a dad once more in the coming months...it's just a lot for this poor man. Does his very best to make sure nothing goes wrong and that MC is as comfort and healthy as possible.

Mammon- This dude is fucking terrified of screwing this up. He doesn't know if this is his kid or not and at this point, he can't let himself even think about it or he'll just get even more nervous. Right now, his Human is the priority and he's gotta take care of her--and try not to fuck up in the process.

Active Caretakers, but They Chill:

Simeon: Even once it finally occurs to this man that this child could be genetically his, he doesn't freak out; he simply doubles down. His Feather doesn't need him bringing her more anxiety after all.

Asmo: This sweet man is constantly giving her massages and whispering sweet words in her ears. Yes, his poor Dolly is very achy and emotional from the pregnancy, but he does his very best to make it easier on her!

Beel: Regardless of what he's eating or how much he has left, he will always offer some of his food to her. He can also often be found with his hand on her belly in some fashion, especially when she is the most upset. MC loves the feeling of having at least one of his big hands on her belly because it makes her feel so comforted and safe.

Satan: Unsurprisingly, this man was constantly reading pregnancy books to try and understand what her body was going through and what he could to make things easier on her. He would also read aloud to her any book she wished as a way of distracting her from the stress of it all.

Belphie: This man...he has glue himself to this woman out of a strong mixture of love and obligation. Yes, he hates every single thing about this situation, but this man has a moral debt to the love of his life because of the night he murdered her so you can bet your ass he's staying by her side, forgoing naps (that she doesn't join him for), and is doing anything she needs him to do.

Barbatos: This man barely makes it onto this list because he has an actual time intensive job to attend to, but he is so determined to be by his Dear's side that he makes it work. Barb has such a calming influence on MC and it seems that just by him showing up, whatever was upsetting her or whatever problem arose was suddenly not so bad because she knew Barb could fix things.

Handlers of the More 'Covert' Pregnancy Issues:

Diavolo: He paid for everything; literally everything. This man felt so guilty that he couldn't be with MC as much as he wanted to be. He visited as much as possible, but in truth, he wished desperately that he could be up on the list of Active Caretakers. Being a prince and the work load that comes with it acts as a barrier to this though so the best he can do for his sweet Queen is to shoulder the financial side of this pregnancy. Doctors appointments. Medications. Any tests she needs done. He makes sure they are all paid for and she doesn't need to worry about a thing in this regard. Also buys the bulk of the baby things. The clothes, the furniture, the toys. He went a bit over board, but the look on MC's face made it all worth it. She cried thick happy tears because her baby already has more than she ever had as a child and so it made her feel more secure about her child's future.

Barbatos: This man handles the scheduling of her doctor appointments and is usually the one the one to bring her to them. Some how makes sure she is never late no matter how the day originally goes or what bad luck my strike that day.

Lucifer: Is next in line to bring MC to her doctor appointments if Barb isn't available to. Tends to ask the doctor a million and one questions and wants copies of the doctor's notes on MC and the baby to go through during his limited free time. Also insists on being the one to pick up her meds and be the one to give them to her each day. Those vitamins are important, MC, and he needs to make sure you take them.

Emotional Support Supermen:

Simeon: Are you even surprised? This has been his role since the very moment he sensed the baby and he's not giving it up as long as his poor lamb needs him.

Asmo: The king of making others feel loved and important. MC is in good hands.

Solomon: Would love to be listed as an Active Caretaker of his sweet little Minx, but the others, most of the brothers to more specific, seem to resent it if he even tries to help out too much and so he tends to stick to the sidelines. Still, he always has a kind word ready and a new perspective to offer when needed. Soli is definitely a person to call when MC gets too overwhelmed and becomes too focused on a bad possibility.

Those Who Stress Her Out:

Leviathan: This man spend most of her pregnancy hiding from her; he takes it all really hard. In truth, he makes it up to her later after the birth, but for now, he hides away in his room like he does when anything scares him and MC is terrified for months that she has lost him over this 😢

Belphie: Believe or not, most of the time he's fine. Despite his opinion of the situation or the fact that he doesn't like kids, he doesn't let any of that control him. It's MC who knows how he feels about all of this who sometimes gets overwhelmed with her fears and worries, usually resulting in her heavily sobbing about how he's going to leave her (because why not, it feels like Levi already has), but it always ends with Belphie holding her tight and swearing to her "I'm not going anywhere, Butthead."

Lucifer: He mostly does fine, but she hates when he comes to her appointments with her because it feels almost like he harasses the poor doctor. Yes, she knows he does it out of worry, but that poor doctor doesn't deserve such criticism.

Her 'Everything Is Normal' Peeps:

Solomon: Honestly, most of the other men make a big deal about her baby and the upcoming changes and in truth, they are a very big deal. However, sometimes it feels like they don't treat her like they used to. Instead of treating her like the person they've always known and love, they treat her like porcelain with a belly. Solomon doesn't. He treats her no differently during the pregnancy than he did before it to the point that some of the other man scold him for it, believing he is too reckless with the pregnant woman. MC appreciates it though and feels like he sees the woman behind the big belly.

Barbatos: Unlike Solomon, he gives MC a similiar feeling without being reckless. He will often take MC out of House of Lamentation to give her a break from the other men, but usually not far; often just to the back garden. The two would sit and talk about just about anything, except the child she carried that caused her back aches and the men inside to go insane about her. Giving her time to focus on other parts of life helped her feel more like a person again and less strangled by upcoming motherly responsibilities and for that, MC deeply appreciated her butler boyfriend.

The Sweetie that Comes with Sweets:

Of course I'm talking about sweet baby Lukey! He's going to be a big brother after all so how could he stay back and not help?

And in truth, he is a major help to MC emotionally. His presence alone makes her whole day better.

It's cute seeing his face as he learns different things about MC's changing body (nothing graphic, just things like how the baby starts out smaller than a pea and somehow grows to baby size and stretches her belly along the way. It blows his freaking mind lol)

The moment he first felt the baby kick inside MC's belly, part of him swore up and down it had to be a prank because how can a baby who hasn't even been born do that???

MC has a lot of sugar cravings during her pregnancy so this kind little baker makes her a lot of sweets.

Simeon ends up having to gently ask the two to cut back on the baked goods--gestational diabetes is a thing after all 😅

That's ok because Lukey is the sweetest part about her day after all 💕

Now with that that all sorted, let's move onto MC's experience during the pregnancy!

The Story:

It was a very stressful pregnancy for her

Starting the very moment Levi hid away from her after hearing the news about her baby.

Right away, she lost one man that she loved and it killed her.

It was a very hard start to the pregnancy.

Luckily, the other men broke through the shock and stayed by her side, determined to take care of her and her child regardless of whether the baby's genetics matched theirs or not.

During the first trimester, the morning sickness was brutal, but the men comforted her through it.

It was mainly Lucifer, Mammon, or Asmo with her in the bathroom though, holding her hair back and comforting her as she cried and begged for it to just end.

She often had a headache during and after the morning sickness so the poor woman was just miserable.

She was also constantly in a pretty lethargic state, but this wasn't something that stayed in the first trimester, but lasted the entire pregnancy.

It seemed like no matter how many hours of sleep she got at night or how many naps she took with Belphie during the day that she was always still so tired and it was very upsetting to the poor woman.

This paired with her hormones made the woman extra sensitive during her pregnancy; the smallest issues would have this poor woman balling about how everything is going wrong in her her life.

Yes, they are sorry you dropped your lemonade and Beely totally feels empathy for you, but your world is not ending and these lovely men will get you another glass, okay?

To make matters worse, it didn't take long at all in her pregnancy for her boyfriends to notice that her belly was growing at a somewhat alarming rate.

Luckily, Diavolo and Barbatos already got her scheduled for her first appointment at the obgyn.

That was the appointment where MC learnt the truth--that she was having triplets.

The poor human sobbed. Triplets.

One baby was a lot of work and stressful enough but three? How were the other men going to react to three babies?

Barb gently shushed her and rubbed her back.

Yes, even he found this news surprising, but believed it ultimately changed nothing; he was going to stand by his sweet pet's side and if the remaining men have anything resembling a spine then they will do the same.

Poor MC was literally shaking when she came home and had to tell the others about the babies.

Lucifer and Mammon were scared shitless, but more devoted to this woman than ever.

Satan and Belphie were internally groaning, but keeping themselves in check.

Asmo and Simeon became anxious, but wasted no time in comforting her and trying to raise her positivity.

Diavolo and Beel were genuinely excited at this news and couldn't keep their hands or lips off of her for a good minute or two, which was good because it brought MC from near tears to a little laughing fit. Those men oozed positivity and to them, her carrying more babies was the best news ever.

Barb and Solomon just smiled comfortingly at their love. Neither was scared or anxious nor were they overly excited. They were merely assured that regardless of how many babies she carried, everything would work out well. It was just like Solomon said the day MC announced her pregnancy: it takes a village to raise a baby and she has quite an impressive village before her.

One thing MC didn't realize when she made this announcement though was that the question of the pregnancy changed, or rather, the form of the question changed from single to multiple choice.

To be more clear, the question changed from "Who is the baby daddy?" To "Who are the baby daddies?"

Every man in the room knew this, but MC did not.

In the Devildom, it is more common for multiples to be the results of from different second parents than all from the same. Like, you can have twin and triplets with the same father, but it is much more rare compared to each baby having a different father

With this news in mind, all of the men worked harder to take care of the sweet, worried human.

Her pregnancy progressed, her belly stretched, her body was in a lot of pain from the growth and extra weight.

Heck, for the last two months, poor MC was mainly on bedrest and carried around when she wanted to changed rooms (she's been carried by all of the guys at least once, but Beel was always the most eager to carry her.

When the day of the birth came, the exhausted and achy woman was both eager for it and dreading it.

She wanted them out and out now, but dear devil, she knew pushing out three babies was gonna take a lot out of her.

The contractions started mid morning, causing Lucifer call Diavolo and the others against her wishes.

The contractions were minor now. She was no where near labor for now so it simply didn't seem right to frighten the non-HoL men into coming over when it will be literal hours just for her to start active labor.

Still, they rushed and the poor woman had even more men hovering her.

She's fine, the babies are fine, now let her watch TV in peace 🤦‍♀️

As a testiment to how fine she was in that moment, she even fell asleep against Diavolo's shoulder as they watched TV together.

However, it obviously didn't stay that way.

As the hours went by and the woman entered active labor, suddenly her tune was much different.

The pain was much harder, the contractions were much more consistent, and poor MC always needed to be gripping onto someone like her life depended on it.

Satan had read in a book that walking can help progress labor so each man took turns walking around the living room with the poor pained woman, stopping whenever she needed to.

Eventually, the pressure below became so severe, but her water still wasn't breaking. It had the labouring woman hysterically crying, refusing to make another step.

The men kept looking at each other, needing someone, anyone in the room to have an idea on how to help MC.

Satan bit his lip before stepping forward.

"I think I know what to do." He stated. "However, I need someone to get a stack of towels and we need to get MC to a bed."

Beel ran off to get the towels while Solomon, who currently had an arm wrapped around MC, scooped her in his arms since she refused to walk.

The group all headed to MC's room.

Soli laid her down gently, but MC gripped onto him tighter, refusing to let go.

The sorcerer whispered sweetly into her ear and kissed her cheek before the woman sniffled and slowly loosened her grip till he could step back from her and be replaced by Satan.

Beel came back just then and the blonde instructed him to lay a few of the towels on the floor by bed.

After that, Satan helped position MC at the edge of the bed and knelt in front of her.

"Okay, Kitten, I'm going to have to break your water--"

"Please!" She begged with every ounce of air in her lungs. "Please!"

With a guilty look in his eyes, the blonde did just that.

MC cried out as she felt her boyfriend slip his hand inside, only for her breath to hitch when she felt the water sack burst and the pressure dissipate.

The woman flung her head back in relief.

"Thank you..." She sobbed.

Despite her relief, poor Satan new from his books that he only helped her towards the most painful part.

MC had a minute or two of feeling okay and was able to catch up on her breathing before the contractions came back worse than before.

Immediately, Diavolo joined her on her left side, grabbing her hand and praising her, telling after months of waiting that it's finally happening.

Lucifer couldn't take it anymore. He joined her on her right and squeezed her hand, promising it will all be fine and they won't let anything happen to her.

Barbatos slips off his gloves and sets them aside before positioning himself between her legs, telling her to push with the contractions and focus breathing between them.

This went on for a while.

Breathe. Push. Breathe. Push. Breathe. Puuuuuush. Breathe.

Eventually, the human was crowning.

More pushing. The head was out revealing bright red hair, but small black spiral horns pointing straight up.

Barbatos raised an eyebrow at this, but the other men were too focused on the pain MC was in to notice what the butler saw as so strange.

After some more pushing, the first baby was pushed out into the butler's waiting arms.

"Solomon."

The sorcerer raised an eyebrow, but stepped forward and took the baby from the other man.

That's when he say it: the baby girl had Diavolo's red hair, Mammon's horns, and Lucifer's dark onyx eyes that reflected red light so well.

This is why they the butler entrusted the baby to him. The other men would only get confused and try asking questions at a point where MC was in no shape to hear them being asked.

Solomon turned away from the other men and grabbed a towel to clean off the newly born infant.

The other men were going to ask him about the newborn, but we're pulled back to their girlfriend by her cries of pain as the second one made its way down.

Honestly, the sorcerer was incredibly fascinated with this turn of events.

He finished cleaning the sweet girl off before kissing her forehead and gently laying her down in one of the cribs in the back of the room.

Meanwhile, the process was repeating though a bit quicker than before. This time, when the second baby crowned and revealed some of the hair on their head, the butler saw two colors.

Half the head filled with white and half the head filled with teal

...the same shade of teal as the ends of his hair.

Barbatos felt his heart beat quicken at this discovery, but he kept focused.

Once this second baby was able to slide out all the way, it was revealed that they also had a tail; a long black tail with a bright green tip.

Something Satan discovered right away.

The wrath demon intercepted the baby before Solomon could.

Instead of arguing this development, the butler simply accepted it.

"Please go clean her off and follow Solomon to the cribs." He said softly.

The blonde walked off with the baby, a confused look on his face.

He grabbed a towel and followed Solomon over to the the cribs.

It made no sense to him. This little girl had his tail yet share features of some of the other men. A mixture of Solomon and Barbatos' hair, Asmo's honey eyes.

What was going on?

Something clicked in his head however when he got a better look at the first baby in the crib, also a mix of three different men.

"A chiropteran conception?" He whispered to the sorcerer.

Soli smirked.

"Ah so you understand too, don't you?"

Satan stared down at his...daughter. well, not just his. Other than MC, he at minimum shared this little girl with the shady sorcerer in front of him, the butler between his girlfriend's legs, and the anxious lust demon in the crowd.

At most? Maybe every man here. They'll have to get these babies tested to see how far their genetic go, to see if it's a full of partial chiropteran conception. Either way, this will be an...interesting experience to say the least.

The blonde cleaned up his daughter and laid her in another crib as MC birthed the last baby, coming much, much quicker than the last two.

By the time the two men rejoined the group, the last baby was already born and in the butler's arms.

With it being the being the last baby and MC's pain being over, this was the first that the others truly focused on--and realized something was off with.

This baby was a little boy. What most of the people in the room found strange about about the child however was mixtures of features.

The dark blue-black hair with orange highlights, purple eyes, angel wings, a slightly dark skin tone and...well, he definitely took after Levi by having double the 'part' between his legs.

"I...what?" MC panted, staring down at her son, who gently cried down within the butler's arms.

Solomon handed Barb a towel, who gratefully took it and began cleaning up and the little boy in his arms.

"Beautiful, isn't he?" Solomon smiled at her. "I think all three of them are a beautiful mixture of us all."

MC laid their speechless as the sorcerer headed back towards the cribs, followed by Satan.

The sorcerer brought back the oldest daughter while the blonde brought back up the youngest daughter.

Dia raised his eyebrows.

"A chiropteran conception... fascinating."

While some of the men knew the term, most did not and MC most certainly didn't so the prince took the time to explain it to the group.

It was unclear at this point whether this was a the result of a full chiropteran conception (meaning all three babies carry the genetics of every single man in the room) or a partial chiropteran conception (each baby contains the genetics of the men whose genes they get their looks from). The latter is the most common when this many men are involved, but they will have to get the babies tested just in case.

At this explanation, MC was looking around at her boyfriends, looking for reassurance that everyone was okay with this

And sure enough, each man latched on like usual with sweet words and kisses, praises and reassurances.

In truth, this was a strange twist but no man present truly had an issue with it.

It will take some time to figure out what sort of dynamic the men should of adopt.

Also, Diavolo unfortunately has a lot of royal legal history to dig through to see what the laws say about chiropteran conceptions and heirs.

If this is a full conception than it doesn't really matter too much, but if it's a partial chiropteran conception then he worries his (and MC's and Lucifer's and Mammon's) daughter will be made to feel less than because of how she is biological will be bullied by the nobility. He would like her to be his heir less for the sake of having one but more to give her a social shield against the demonic elite.

The kids (in birth order):

Tatiana- a graceful and elegant but secretly sensitive and vengeful. Touch her siblings and you just might find a knife in your back. Sneaky, but even if she gets caught, she'll get away with it because she's spoiled and family comes first; her Daddies agree 100% 🥰

Selia- a very shy and emotional girl. Magical prodigy with Barbatos' future visions and Asmo's charming powers, two abilities she doesn't particularly even want. She's quiet and delicate, often found hiding behind her family or with her head down.

Milo- hyper, friendly, and troublesome (though never on purpose). This guy works off one superpowered braincell but once it's out of juice, so is he and he sleeps it off on the couch or in his room. He always have a kind word for everyone, but can be a bit naïve. Thinks fictions is perfect substitute for real life lessons and can be kinda slow to learn the true ones.

[landinrris]

Watched the first eight and a half minutes of quali and then decided to go back to proof-reading. Hell Chaos Summer Snippet: In which Max, Carlos, and Lando are in a club in Monaco following the Augusta trip. More of the pieces fall together for Carlos regarding why Lando and Max are so close lately.

Just because Carlos knows now, doesn’t mean he stops watching Max and Lando interact. The added context makes everything just a bit more understandable. Max and Lando have always gotten along, but to have an extra confidant to talk to about things that no one else could know about, could only bring two people closer. Carlos has never been so thankful for another person before.

One thought inevitably leads to another and produces more questions. How long have they known about each other— was it prior to Lando’s move or after? Was it just the knowledge that Max was there for him, or did they actually talk about things? Did Max introduce Lando to other like-minded people? 

Lando had said he’d had sex with men before Carlos.

Even for the time they’re in a bar following dinner, Carlos thinks it’s so obvious. 

It hits him around his third drink that Max hadn’t denied anything or asked him questions as well. Like he knew— which isn’t really what Carlos needs for his psyche right now, but maybe it’s different because it’s Max.

“Wait,” Carlos interrupts over the music as Lando is opening his mouth to say something very different. “How did you… about me and Lando?”

Max smiles at him and slaps his arm. “I know you both, yeah, so it’s obvious to me. And Lando never shuts up about you and has suddenly gone very tight-lipped this last week. We don’t have to talk about it, but I am saying since you asked.”

Carlos finds that the words Max had picked help calm him. I know you both. Lando never shuts up. He’s been tight-lipped. Max is not Caco, is not Ferrari, is not the public. It’s okay if Max knows— it’s thrilling to have themselves legitimized.

Lando presses his body against Carlos’ side, so he lets himself go loose with the music and the alcohol and the ones he cares about.

It gets easier for Carlos to lower his guard that much more.

He lets Lando and Max both press new drinks into his hands— lets Lando practically plaster himself to Carlos’ side and sway to the music. Carlos knows just from looking that Lando’s visualizing his old turn tables in front of him as the beat ebbs and flows.

Carlos leans with the music— gets lost in the base drops and Lando’s mouth pressed close to his ear as he tries to shout something Carlos doesn’t hear.

Max is the one who eventually steers them out and into an Uber that’ll take them home. Carlos isn’t drunk enough to not realize what’s going on, but he’s pleasantly on the way. He’s drunk enough to not care how Lando grips his thigh in the backseat. If Carlos was a little drunker, he might lean over and kiss Lando.

Just the memory of that thought in the morning is bound to make him groan.

They do eventually get upstairs and into Lando’s bed. Lando’s a bit drunker than Carlos— probably a result of being in a familiar place around familiar people. He lets Carlos manhandle him under the covers, a giggling mess the entire time that Carlos isn’t strong enough to abstain from either.

His ribs hurt where he’s kneeling over Lando, trying desperately to stop the tears over something that isn’t even that funny. Then again, they’ve never needed something particularly funny in order to lose their minds.

It’s a miracle they both make it under the sheets, facing and watching each other through the faint outlines created by the lights below on the street. Lando leans in, his eyes watching Carlos the entire time, and presses a lingering kiss to his lips. Despite everything they’ve done, Carlos feels honest-to-God butterflies in his stomach. 

His hand finds Lando’s, and he squeezes— as a thank you, as a promise.

Predictably, Carlos feels decidedly less good in the morning. Judging by the groan from Lando’s lump of duvet, he’s not much better off. Carlos has to practically shove paracetamol down Lando’s throat, but it’s a step in the right direction when Lando eventually joins him in the kitchen.

“You’re not allowed to let me drink like that again,” he demands, coming up to lean his hip against the edge of the corner.

Carlos hums from his spot at the French Press that Lando definitely didn’t buy on his own. “You were the one feeding me drinks too, if I am remembering correctly.”

“So, it’s Max’s fault then.” At least they can both agree on that.

“I need to book a car tomorrow to get back to Maranello,” Carlos brings up as they’re picking through some of the breakfast they’ve made. It would be so much easier to go directly to Milan, but he desperately needs to change out the clothes in his suitcase he’s been carrying for a week and a half. He’d never anticipated being away from home for so long.

“I could let you take one of my cars if you want. You can just bring it back in Imola or Monaco since they’re back to back.” He says it so nonchalantly that Carlos does a double-take.

“You would let me just take one of your cars?”

“I mean, you’d probably have to take the Audi if you’d want to get there and then not be fired once you did.” Right, the McLaren probably wouldn’t go over well. “We drive cars for a living, and I know you’re not reckless.”

All Carlos can do is agree even though his head feels like it’s a mess with the trust and ease Lando gives him. Sure, they were friends before, but this is more than what usually constitutes a friendship and even the early stage of this as-yet-unlabeled thing between them.

The threat of whatever’s waiting for him in Milan suddenly seems less important than it ever has. He has Lando here, waiting to see him again in whatever capacity. Carlos doesn’t think he’s ever felt this powerful.

[whatitsdecending]

Chokehold: Pt. II

Vessel x Reader x Noah Sebastian

Finding yourself in a strange predicament between two men who had once shared your body at the same time. One with a tight grip on your heart and the other you just can’t seem to let go of.

A/N: thank you for the love on the first part! I decided to continue this an actual fic, rather than it just being a one shot. I will put this out here now:

I do not know anything about Vessel than what everyone else knows, all of this is fictional and made up by me.

Word Count: 4.4k

Content warning: none, fluff for this part and some cutesy moments

—————————

Two months had gone by and it was now November. You were in the lull between tours, the time where you get to sit at home and get extremely bored. You loved being on tour since you did something every single day, even on the off days.

This time around though wasn’t all that boring. That time three months ago where Noah had introduced you to Vessel was really sticking around. Vessel had given you his number, asking you to call him whenever you could. And you did. You never missed the chance to do so, calling him the next day early in the afternoon once the buses had arrived at the next place Bad Omens was performing. It only rang three times before he answered, the croak of his voice being used after he’d been asleep peaked your interest.

From that day on, you two either texted all day until you were able to schedule a time to call. The schedule you were on compared to his was a little difficult to find time where the both of you could sit down and chat.

Getting off tour made that so much easier for you. He’d call you up almost everyday around 2pm your time, even if he was in the UK he didn’t care how late it was for him in comparison. Every call you will talk until he falls asleep, which usually ends up being around 7pm for you. You’d hear the soft snores coming from his end of the line, signaling to you he was asleep.

“Goodnight Ves, sweet dreams.” You always say before hanging up. A small smile remained on your face as you began your nightly routine, something which you’ve caught yourself doing every time.

For hours you’d talk about anything and everything, it felt much different than the long talks you and Noah would have. Usually those talks with him would end in a hookup, but nothing else. You knew what you and Noah did was just casual, no strings attached. But sometimes you wished he’d just sit and listen to you talk for hours on end, let you rant about the crew who are pissing you off on that day or about the book you’d just finished reading.

But Vessel does. And you know he’s listening to you because he’ll ask you a follow up question on something you mentioned minutes ago. You longed to be able to see him again, to have these conversations over dinner instead of the phone. Whatever piece of him he left in you on that day remained and wouldn’t allow you to let go of the idea of him.

Which is why when your phone began to ring promptly at 2pm, your heart swelled at least twice its size. You hit the green answer button on the screen, then hit the speaker button.

“Hello darling.” His voice echoed into the room from the speakers.

“Hi Ves, how are things?” You asked, turning your focus on the pile of dirty laundry in your basket.

“Oh you know, same old same old. It’s getting quite boring doing the same thing everyday.” He sighs. “I wish I could just bounce around on stage right now and kiss my bandmates.” The laugh that erupted from you was loud and hearty, earning a chuckle from Vessel. “Maybe even kissing you.”

“Oh well now you’re just out of your mind.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s impractical right now, the idea of you kissing me.” He was silent for a moment, clearly thinking of what to say.

“I don’t think so. It could certainly happen sooner than you’d think.” Now you stood in silence wondering exactly what he meant by that. A notification popped up on your phone, a text from him. You clicked it and gasped at what it was: a plane ticket to London.

“Ves.. what is this?” The shock ran through your body to the point your hands began to shake.

“I did some research and realized there’s a good amount of time between when I go back on tour and Bad Omens does. I bought you a plane ticket to come and stay with me for a while before then.” There was a tone of hope in his voice, you could tell he really wanted you to be there with him. “Y/N I really do miss you, even if we’d only seen each other once in person. Talking to you everyday has only exaggerated that feeling.”

You didn’t know what to say. Well, actually more like you didn’t know how to express what you wanted to say. Your thoughts ran millions of miles per second through your mind. What exactly did he want if you went? Would it just be absentminded fucking like you already did with Noah? Or would it be something more? Soaking up each other’s presence, completing activities the other picks out for fun. Would it actually feel like something was there rather than nothing at all?

“Yes.” After all the thought you’d put into a reply, a simple yes is all that could come up with.

“Yes?”

“Yes Ves. I would love to spend time with you before going on tour again. I think we both really need it.” There it is, slowly coming out of you the more the conversation moves along.

“I’m glad you’re on board. That makes my life a little easier now.” You could tell he was smiling on the other side, just from the cheekiness of his response. “Also I apologize for the late notice, you should probably get packing now and find your passport.” You quickly found the plane ticket again and realized the departure was for tomorrow.

“Oh you dick!” You exclaimed, running over to the closet that stored your two suitcases. Vessel laughed over the phone at the sound of your struggle, clearly enjoying the stress he just put you in.

“I’ll hang up so you can get to packing. Just make sure you text me when the plane is about to take off and I’ll figure out the best time to get you. I’ll see you tomorrow darling.” With that he hung up. You stared at the two empty suitcases in front of you, the bigger one that you only brought along for a tour. You decided it’d be smart to just pack it like you were leaving for tour, then the other one being everything else you wanted to bring.

At the point in which one suitcase was completely full, you had a moment of realization: why the hell did you just agree to go across the sea to a country you’re still very unfamiliar with, and stay with a man whom you’ve talked with on the phone way more than in person. Plus, the time you spoke in person was so minimal because he fucked your brains out.

It certainly was not your brain making the decisions today.

As you sat here staring at the suitcase, it truly put so much in perspective for you. Vessel clearly meant something more to you than you’d thought. He’s had enough of an impact on you in these past two months than anyone you’ve ever met. The universe really works in strange ways and you wonder if Noah’s little fantasy was actually just some sort of strange fate for you.

Or you were going crazy.

—————————

You stood in line at TSA in the airport, watching each person take their personal items and put them into the buckets. It was painful how long you’d been in line and each new person that goes through the process makes you wish it was you. Traveling wasn’t exactly your most favorite thing in the world, but with your job you had to do it, so at this point you just grew numb to the entire experience.

After another fifteen minutes you were finally making your way to the gate. You had enough time to get there so you didn’t rush, but the anticipation of knowing you’re one step closer to seeing Vessel made your legs move in a hurry. The gate already had a lot of people waiting, seeming like it’d be a full flight. How lovely, you thought, I see babies.

Like every flight you’ve ever been on, the boarding process was always the worst. You’d wish you could shove past everyone taking their sweet time putting their carry ons in the bins and just get to your seat, but you decided being kind and helping a few people out would make the experience more pleasant.

As you watched out your window seat while the plane taxied on the runway, you reached for your phone to shoot a text to Vessel:

Hey, the plane is about to take off. See you soon xo:)

You switched your phone into airplane mode as the plane began to shoot down the runway. The friendly feeling of your stomach dropping when the plane lifted into the air put a smile on your face. You were really doing this, some people would run away from an opportunity like this but you decided you had to run right to it with open arms. The flight might be a long one, but in the end, it’ll be worth every second.

—————————

“The time is currently 8:43 pm GMT, the temperature outside is 46° Fahrenheit. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to London.” The pilot said on the overhead speakers when the plane landed, a sigh of relief leaving your body. Landing was always the rough part for you, you’ve seen too many documentaries.

Your phone came buzzing back to life the moment you turned airplane mode off, texts from multiple people popped up and lots of work emails flooding your notifications. You glanced at some of the messages, mostly just your parents asking if you’d landed yet and sending you cute messages. Vessel had sent you a heart in reply to what you sent him before take off, which you immediately sent him a text letting him know you landed.

Then the name you hadn’t seen in a while was there… Noah had tried calling you but resorted to sending texts.

N: Hey, you okay? I’m being sent straight to voicemail each time I call you.

N: Y/N you’ve got me a little worried, you good?

N: If I did something please let me know I don’t mean to seem like an asshole.

You sighed at the messages. Out of all days, he decides to talk to you today. The one time you weren’t going to be able to use your phone for a long time and were actually happy about it. You quickly shot him a text back just as the plane was being parked at the gate.

YOU: Hey I’m sorry I didn’t respond. I was DND for a while and needed some time away from my phone.

N: Shit dude you gave me a heart attack, everything good?

YOU: Yeah! I needed one of those technology detoxes today, you know?

N: I understand that completely. Whenever you get the chance will you give me a call? I miss talking to you.

YOU: Of course, but I gotta get back to my detox. Call you later xo

You stuffed your phone into your pocket deciding to ignore the rest of whatever he wanted to say. Your mind focused on what you were here for, getting to Vessel as quickly as you could. You became extremely grateful the people in this airport knew how to walk fast and weren’t stuck behind any slowpokes. The impatience you had was becoming worse the closer you got to the baggage claim, you think if these people were moving slow you’d mow them down like a damn eighteen-wheeler.

The escalators that lead down to the baggage claim came into view and as you stepped onto one of the steps, you searched the room below to see if you could spot Vessel. About midway down, you noticed him standing further back in all black, he held a small sign that said your name on it and a bouquet of flowers. The smallest gesture he could’ve ever made yet it made your heart flip-flop.

Your feet made contact with the ground and you were running to him. He opened his arms wide for you, letting you leap up and hug him tightly. The familiar warmth and his scent that you’d picked up on that day two months ago was still there, putting a wide smile on your face.

“These are for you.” He put the bouquet in your hand after you’d placed yourself back onto the ground. He had a shyer demeanor about him this time around, it seemed like he was nervous you’d actually come to London to see him. Whatever the case may be, you thought it was sweet. The Vessel you’d met was very different from the one standing in front of you. Despite the different circumstances, you actually preferred this version of him.

“Have you been waiting long?” You asked when you headed to the baggage claim that was only a hundred or so feet from the escalators.

“Maybe an hour or so?” He said with a questioning tone. “I can’t quite remember, I just sat in my car for a while until you texted me that you had landed.” His hand rested at the small of your back under the backpack you’d brought as a carry on, guiding you through the crowded area. “Which bags are yours?” You got to the carousel that was unloading the baggage from your flight and watched for your two suitcases.

“Oh, sick they’re coming out together.” You said and began to reach for them, but Vessel had already begun to lift them from the conveyor belt. “Oh you didn’t need to do that.”

He smiled down at you. “I don’t mind at all, plus you’ve had a long day. You gotta rest those arms of yours.” He started walking towards one of the doors that lead outside when he laughed. “I just realized that made no sense, I just needed some excuse to take your bags for you.” You laughed with him. It didn’t even register in your mind that his sentence made no sense, in fact the jet lag was already hitting you hard. At this point you just wanted to lay down and sleep for an entire day.

You step outside and the chill November air of London hits you like a ton of bricks. The air pierced through your sweater and left you to shiver. The idea to check how the weather would be here when you arrived completely slipped your mind while you packed yesterday, though it would be common sense it’d be cold here in November.

You shadowed behind Vessel, letting him lead the way to where he’d parked. It wasn’t too far of a walk from where the two of you had exited, you were just excited to have the heat blasting on you. Luckily you remembered not to go in the right side of the car this time around, you’d embarrassed yourself pretty bad the last time you visited the UK.

“It’s not too far of a drive to my house from here.” Vessel says as he puts one hand behind the headrest of your seat and begins to reverse out of the parking spot. You couldn’t help but watch his face as his brows furrowed a bit while he pulled from the spot, he bit at his lip with concentration. “I wanted to make you some dinner if you don’t mind. Unless you’re dying hungry then I will happily stop somewhere.” The mention of food took you back to reality, the reality where the last time you ate was at 5am your time.. with the time change you cannot remember how many hours ago that was.

“What do you have in mind for dinner?” You ask, eyes wandering out the window as all the streetlights lit up the road.

“Uhh..” He trails off for a moment, the smallest chuckle escaping from his mouth. Your head whips around to see him trying not to laugh, his hand covering his mouth as his chest heaves with every laugh he stifles. “Spaghetti.” You couldn’t help but burst out laughing, a chain reaction spreading between the two of you as he started laughing just as hard as you were. The car was full of your laughter and the snorts that you cannot help once you start laughing this hard.

You began to calm down, wiping the tears that had fallen down your face. “I have no idea if that truly was that funny or I’m just so jet lagged that everything is hilarious to me.” Vessel patted your thigh lightly as went back to focusing on driving rather than crashing from laughing so hard with you.

—————————

After twenty minutes you were pulling into a long driveway, covered by bushes that lead to a home surrounded by forest. You couldn’t see much in the dark but from what you could see, it was a beautiful older home with a lot of charm to it. There were some lights strung up around the outside, and a wreath that hung on the front door.

Vessel took your suitcases from the trunk and you followed him up the steps of the porch, letting him unlock the door and gesture for you to go in before him. The aroma of sweet cinnamon and pumpkin filled your senses, lamps were the only thing lighting up the rooms in the house but added to the calming atmosphere.

Your curiosity got the best of you the second you noticed the corner of the piano in the living room, drawing you in to see the beautiful instrument upclose. Your eyes grew wide when the floor to ceiling bookshelf came into view, expanding from one wall to the other filled to the brim with books. The piano left your mind as you moved to look at his collection, your fingers running over some of the hardcovers of books you’ve always wanted to read. As basic as you were with your favorite, you pulled The Giver by Lois Lowry out of its respective place. You admired the clear love that Vessel has given this book, some of the creases in the pages from him reading it over time and the breakage in the spine of the book.

You put the book back into the place it was originally and continued gawking at his collection. There was a stack of books on a table near the bookshelf that caught your attention, when you moved closer you realized all these books were ones you’d talked to him about over the phone. You felt that pull in your heart, the familiar tug you always felt whenever somebody remembers such small things.

“I knew you’d come in here.” His voice echoed from behind you, startling you out of your trance. “You like it?” He stepped into the room with a smile plastered on his face. “You boasted about how much you loved those books, I couldn’t resist going to the bookstore the next day and buying all of them to read.”

“I’m going to be in heaven here. This collection is what I aspire to have one day.” Your eyes wandered over the bookshelves again, still trying to process the fact that this was an actual thing he had in his home. “It’s amazing, Ves.”

He smiled softly. “Thank you, I appreciate it. I set your things down in the guest room. If you want to get settled I’m going to get started on the spaghetti.” He trailed off to the kitchen, the sounds of pots clanging and cabinets opening and shutting filled the silence of his home. Your feet pulled you away from the room you’d grown to love, leading you to the stairs where you went to find the guest room.

There were paintings hung along the walls of the hallway, each one depicting a beautiful scene. You knew you’d spend some time staring at them and trying to understand the meaning behind it, but tonight your brain was too exhausted to even try.

A door was opened and light flooded the hallway from the room, you assumed that would be the guest room. Luckily you were right because your suitcases were left in the corner of the room and your backpack rested on the bed. It was a cozy room, not too heavily decorated but also not incredibly bland that it drove you nuts. Vessel clearly had a love for the Victorian style, many antiques littered his home and enhanced the coziness even more.

There was a bathroom connected to the room, a little more modernized than the bedroom itself but still had that same feel. It was lovely. Your hands smoothed over the large porcelain tub that sat in the corner of the bathroom, a window that overlooked the forest in front of it.

You began to unpack a bit and put your clothes away into the dresser, setting aside a pair of your pajamas to change into later on. The smell of red sauce flowed into the room and your stomach twisted into a knot. You were absolutely starving and the way the spaghetti was smelling you knew you’d be devouring it.

After a little more unpacking you decided to head back downstairs to see how close dinner was to being ready and if you could help in any way. As you stepped off the stairs the sound of Vessel’s voice caught your attention, he was singing along to the music he was listening to. His velvety voice was much quieter than you've heard it while he performed on stage, but it was rather beautiful this way.

You rounded a corner and walked into the kitchen, the sight of him putting together two plates of the spaghetti and singing was something that pulled at your heart again. “I was just about to call for you, dinner is served!” He exclaimed as he set a plate down at the table. “Do you want any cheese on yours?”

“No thank you.” A smile tugged at your lips as you sat down, waiting for him to come over with his plate and sit with you. “This smells so good, Ves.”

His eyes lit up as he smiled at your compliment. “Thanks, I tried my best to make it halfway decent.” He sat across from you and stared for a bit. “I’m waiting to see what you think..”

“Oh! Sorry.” You reached for the fork, twirling a bunch of spaghetti with it and placing the food into your mouth. It was delicious, probably some of the best spaghetti you’ve had in a long time. After finishing your bite you gave him a nod of approval. “That was amazing. Where did you learn to cook like that?”

He smirked as he chewed his food, twirling the fork in the pasta. “Cooking shows became one of my favorite things to watch during Covid, so I decided to get my shit together with my cooking and learn to do it properly. Now I actually enjoy it.”

“Do you bake as well or just cook?”

“I don’t bake, it seems like fun but I’ve never really had a reason to.”

You gasped in a dramatic fashion. “You’re telling me you don’t enjoy baking brownies at 2am for no reason at all?” He rolled his eyes at your little performance, a smile on his face that told you everything you needed to know. “We can have a 2am brownie baking party. Just not tonight because I feel like I’m about to fall over in exhaustion.”

“We’ll save it for another night.” He wiped his face with the napkin. “Did you find the room alright? I realized as you went upstairs that I didn’t tell you what room..”

You raised a brow, the same shyness from earlier was back. “Ves?” He glanced up at you and hummed a response. “Are you nervous that I’m here?” He hadn’t expected that question, so as the expression on his face went from shock to slight embarrassment, you could tell his brain was moving a million miles a second.

“Well… erm- to be honest I don’t have many guests over. Only my bandmates come to visit but they only ever stay for a day or two.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “This kind of company is new for me. Especially for how long you’re staying…”

“I’m a wonderful guest.” You placed your hands underneath your chin and put a big smile on your face. “Just ask anyone who has let me stay in their homes for a while.”

“Alright get me that list and I’ll make some phone calls.” Vessel chuckled, standing up and grabbing your empty plate. He walked over to the sink to start on the dishes, turning on the music again and humming quietly.

“Do you want a hand?” You asked as you stood from the table.

He shook his head and turned to look at you. “I’ve got it, you should go get some sleep Y/N you look exhausted.” He turned back to the sink and you watched as his arms flexed each time he put some force to scrub the dishes.

“Alright..” You couldn’t lie, the jet lag was hitting you hard at this point and the lack of sleep you got the night before has made itself very known. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight!” He responded as your feet shuffled back upstairs to your room. It was very quiet up there adding even more to your exhaustion. The set of pajamas you’d laid out before had quickly replaced the clothes on your back and you tossed them to the floor, making a mental note to clean that up tomorrow.

You turned off the lamp in the room and was comforted by the darkness that encompassed you. The sheets were silk and the comforter was heavy, it reminded you of the ones hotels always had. You slipped underneath the covers and laid there for a bit with your eyes open. Eventually you glanced at the clock on the bedside table, 11:24pm it read. You sighed and laid back against the pillows, sleep pulling at your eyelids and drawing them shut.