#this is as close to romance as they can get

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 6

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

DEFINETLY NSFW! Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

For somebody that filled her romance novels with plenty of smut… Sky wasn’t exactly as experienced as one may expected. 

Actually…she was woefully inexperienced.

There had been Admon…and Admon it had been.

The rest of the stuff in her books…well, that was just her fantasy wildly spinning stories about how sex should feel. Informed by plenty of books she had read, other authors, and of course…there were the two people that got to read every book she wrote before it was published: Orla, her publisher, and her friend Ressina, who was nice enough to take the pen to every thing she wrote that was woefully inaccurate. 

Because nothing ever felt to her like she portrayed it in the books.

Maybe that was normal. Maybe it was because of course her books portrayed something…better than reality, an escape from it. But still…sometimes Sky had just wondered…

As Azriel carried her towards the bedroom, Sky couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nervousness in her stomach. It wasn’t that she didn’t want this, she did, more than anything. But the truth was, she was…nervous.

She had written about this moment countless times, had described it in vivid detail in her novels. But now that it was actually happening, she felt…insecure. What if it wasn’t as good in real life as she made it out to be on paper? What if she did disappoint him?

(Sky knew that she had disappointed Admon numerous times…that she seemingly had never been enough for him…had been so bad at it in fact that he had instead slept with her sister…which was a whole other kettle of fish that she really didn’t want ot think to close about right now.)

Sky tried to push those thoughts aside, to focus on the here and now. 

Azriel was here with her, he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. She could feel it in the way he held her, the way he looked at her. And yet, that nagging feeling of doubt still lingered.

And then there was the fact while he had admitted to sending his shadows to search for her… Sky was still keeping a rather big secret.

“Az…Azriel…” she said hesitantly.  “There…there is one thing you should know about me.”

Azriel paused, setting Sky down on the bed gently before turning to look at her. 

"Go on," he prompted her gently, taking her hand in his as he sat down next to her and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You can tell me anything, Sky." She believed him. he wouldn’t judge her. She was sure of that as well. 

“You…You k…know how…how I…I write… ro…romance no..novels?” Sky asked him, biting her lip.

Azriel nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yes, I do," he said, leaning in closer to her. "You told me.”

“I…I am Sellyn Drake,” she blurted out.

She had never outright admitted it to another person. 

Ressina had been the one who had send off her first manuscript to be published…and Orla had met with her…these were the two people in existence that knew that Skylar Alden was also Sellyn Drake. And Skylar had always been comfortable with keeping it that way. 

There was no need to tell anybody else. 

Which was why it worked so well, that Ressina was an artist and could paint the bookcovers for her. No need whatsoever to let anybody else see the hesitant first drafts until she was sure this was where she wanted to go. Just Ressina. Just one of her very few friends. If not her only. 

Azriel stared at her, his eyes widening in surprise. "What?" he asked, completely taken aback. "You're...Sellyn Drake?" There was no…outright disbelief in his voice, just shock. 

*We know! We made Master read your books!* the shadows cooed. *Lady Death, The Priestess and The Shopkeeper love them too!*

She had no idea who any of these people were but…

Azriel's eyes widened even further as the shadows spoke up. "You...you knew about this?" he asked them, turning towards the shadows in disbelief. "You knew. That’s why you gave me her books to read!”

This was just getting better and better.

Sky, who had been watching Azriel and the shadows’ exchange with a mixture of nervousness and embarrassment, couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. 

“Do…Do they always…” she couldn’t even put it into words. 

Azriel sighed. “They like to meddle,” he said darkly. “And this time they were particularly persistent.” He shot a reproachful look at the shadows, who cowered a little under his gaze. "I won't lie, they did manipulate me into reading your books. And when my shadows do something they are rather...convincing."

She swallowed. 

“Did…did you…li…like them at…at least?” Sky asked hesitantly. 

Azriel hesitated for a moment before answering. 

"I...I did," he admitted earnestly. "Your writing...it's brilliant, Sky.” Her heart soared at his words. She treasured them, hoarding them away like a dragon. But he wasn’t done. “The characters, the emotions, the way you make the reader feel everything...it's incredible. I couldn't put them down."

Sky grinned at his words, feeling a swell of pride in her chest. "I…I'm glad you..you li…liked them," she said softly.

*Master especially liked the…*

“Shut. Up.” Azriel snapped, his ears reddening and Sky started laughing. She could just about imagine what the shadows wanted to tell her at that moment. 

Azriel groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I'm going to kill them," he muttered under his breath.

"They…they are ju…just try…trying to help you, aren't they?" she asked softly, squeezing his hand in hers. Only now she noticed the violent scars that marred them, the texture of raised and bumpy skin…but she didn’t care. Not one bit.  

*Of course, we are,* the shadows said, like any other idea was simply blasphemous. *We gave Master the best information we could. So that Master would know what you like.*

Sky probably shouldn't find it as adorable as she did. But the lengths they had gone to...the way they had made Azriel read her books so that he would know what she liked...nobody in her life had ever gone to these lengths just to find out what she liked.

"I swear I am not a total creep," Azriel told her with a grimace.

Sky laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "No…no, no, you're not," she assured him, squeezing his, hands gently. "I…I ac…actually think it's… quite… sweet. In a weird, sli…slightly invasive kind of way. But sweet nonetheless."

"I think you are the only female that could possible think that," Azriel muttered, glaring at the shadows that didn't seem apologetic in the slightest.

Sky grinned, leaning in closer to him. "It’s… endearing,” she finally settled on. “Maybe even a lit…little bit charming," she promised him earnestly.

Azriel looked at her incredulously, his expression softening a little. "You're not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?" he asked her.

Sky shook her head. "No. No, I'm not," she said, her voice unwavering. "I…I mean it, Azriel. It iss actually really sweet that you would go to… such lengths just to try to un…understand me better. And you ad…admitted to it. And not just after the mating bond was accepted but within hours of meeting me." 

Azriel didn't keep it a secret, even when he could have, and she would have been none the wiser. 

"I don't know what I ever did to deserve you. But I'm not going to question it," he whispered. 

She swallowed. That's what she was thinking. The exact same words. 

Sky pulled him down, letting his forehead rest against hers.

"I know that...that I am supposed to cook you something...but how disappointed would you be if I gave you one of those caramel bonbons in my purse to accept the bond instead?" she asked him softly, meeting his gaze. 

His eyes widened and he stared at her in pure, undiluted wonder. 

"I could not possible be dissappointed by whatever you offered me," Azriel whispered. "But...are you...are you sure?"

"I am being utterly selfish," she whispered. "Yes. I want you." She didn't care that people would have thoughts about it...that she was rushing into this. 

They were probably right. 

But Sky really didn't care. Sky only wanted him. Sky was ready to throw caution overboard and rush into this headfirst without a thought about the consequences, if that meant that she would get her mate.

"Then let's be selfish together," Azriel whispered.

With shaky hands she reached into her purse, finding one of the caramel bonbon she kept in there...unwrapped it out of the paper and then...then she offered it to him, lifting it to his lips.

Azriel looked at the bonbon, then at her, and for a moment she thought he would say something. But then his mouth opened and he took it from her hand... He chewed it, swallowing carefully, his gaze never wavering from hers. For a moment, they stayed suspended in that moment of tension, the only sound their breathing. And then, he leaned in, closing the distance between them, and kissed her as if she was the most precious thing in his entire world.

A Mating Frenzy had always been protrayed as animalistic in every book she read. So of course, Sky had written the exact same thing.

But it wasn't...not really.

Not for them. 

And being with Azriel was also a far cry from being with Admon...mostly because then it had often been...embarrassing and painful. 

Admon had always found something to criticise on her body...foreplay had been nonexistent, even when she had tried...and while he had been more than willing to use her mouth to find his own pleasure he had never returned that favour.

With Azriel it was different. Every touch, every caress, every kiss made her feel things she had never felt before. It was like her body was coming alive for the first time.

All her senses were heightened, every nerve in her body singing with pleasure, and Sky couldn't get enough of him. She wanted more. No, she needed more. As Azriel trailed kisses down her throat, she arched her back, pressing herself against him, her hands roaming over his body, exploring every inch of him that she could reach.

"Can I...Can I touch your wings?" she asked breathlessly, not wanting to...cross some unsaid line.

"Please," Azriel breathed out. "Yes, Sky, please." He lifted his wings, extending them out behind him, giving her free rein to touch and explore to her heart's content. As Sky's fingers brushed against the contours of his wings, Azriel let out a low, guttural moan, his wings twitching and shuddering at the sensation. They were massive and pitch black.

"They are beautiful," she whispered, running her hands over the silky black skin, feeling the warmth radiating from them.

He shuddered at her touch, his wings arching and trembling beneath her gentle caress. he leaned his forehead against hers as he gently tipped her back against the bed and she went willingly, wrapping her hands over the gleaming talons at the tip of his wings as she kissed him.

Azriel growled softly in response, his hands sliding up beneath her dress, opening the lacing in one fluid motion. As the dress fell open, revealing her body beneath, Azriel pulled back for a moment, looking down at her with dark, hungry eyes. "You are so beautiful," he breathed, his gaze roaming over her body.

She didn't even have the time to feel self-conscious, not when she was drowning in the waves of desire that shot across their bond from him. Not when her whole body seemingly trembled against his and she kissed him again, opening her mouth to his tongue.

He slipped open the dress and she opened her mouth, halfway ready to tell him how he could get the corset she wore off, but he already opened the lacing. "Why?" he asked her softly, as he saw the red indents left on her body, and she grimaced.

"Claire," she whispered.

She wore corsets usually for support, because her breast could get heavy and painful without the proper support...but she never laced them as tightly as she did when she saw her family. Or her sister. Then she pulled them tight, trying to squash her body to be something…something her family could stomach, something they maybe wouldn't comment on...she always failed.

Azriel hissed softly, his fingers lightly tracing the red marks on her skin. She knew that they looked horrible, and yet he looked...angered? Almost furious. His expression softened as he looked back into her eyes, his fingers gently tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "Why would you do something like that to yourself, Sky?" he murmured, his eyes searching hers. "You are beautiful. You don't need to change anything about your body." He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to a particularly hard imprint the corset had left.

Sky swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in her throat as emotion welled up in her chest. No one had ever said something like that to her, had ever made her feel like she was good enough just the way she was. She opened her mouth, trying to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she just nodded, feeling a single tear slip down her cheek. Azriel wiped it away with his thumb, his other hand coming up to cup her face tenderly.

"You are perfect," he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Just the way you are. Don't ever let anyone make you feel otherwise. Not even your family." Sky leaned into his touch, closing her eyes and just focusing on the closeness, the warmth, the feeling of being cherished and protected.

With every word he spoke, she felt a weight lifting off her shoulders, her fears and insecurities melting away. She realized that maybe, just maybe, she had found someone who truly saw her, the real her. Who accepted her exactly as she was, flaws and all.

It was so easy to sink into that. So easy to trust him. So easy to just kiss him, as she pushed the shirt he wore over his shoulders...to feel acres of gold skin, dotted with scars and dark markings...to bare him for her view and see how utterly gorgeous her mate was.

He growled softy as she ran her hand down his chest, tracing the scars that marked his skin. His body was a tapestry of pain and survival, yet she wasn't deterred. She only found him more beautiful for it.

"Mine," she whispered, pressing her lips to his chest, to one particularly nasty scar. "All mine." She could feel his heart pounding beneath her lips, the steady beat matching the rhythm of her own heartbeat. Her hands trailed down his chest, his stomach, until she reached the waistband of his trousers.

It was so easy.

So easy, to shed clothing until they were bare...so easy to press against him and feel warm, perfect skin...so easy to relax underneath him as he stretched over her...so easy to simply cup his face as she kissed him...as her legs wrapped around his hips and he groaned and she whimpered as she felt him...hot and hard and huge, pressing against her...She was dripping wet without him even laying as single finger on her beneath the waist.

Azriel didn't look unaffected, his breath coming in ragged pants, his eyes fixed on hers as they were blown wide and dark with want. He didn't move, didn't kiss her, didn't pull her closer. He only waited. Waited for her. 

"I need you," she whimpered. "Please. Please, Az." He let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a growl, his hips rocking gently against her, teasing them both with the heat and friction between them.

Nothing hurt. Nothing ever even threatened to hurt...Even as she could feel him notch against her there...even when she could feel herself lewdly stretched open on his cock...

It was so soft and gentle and sweet and…

It was everything Sky had ever wanted. 

Not the rough kind of fucking...not the animalistic coupling she wrote half the time...but she had wanted this. She had wanted sweetness and adoration and...love...and to be wrapped up in her mate's arms like she was a precious, precious thing. She had wanted whispered praised against her skin and to be touched like she mattered...

"Sky," he whispered, his hands running up her side, his touch was soft and soothing, worshipping her body. He kissed her, slowly, deeply, and there was something...almost overwhelming about it.

About the way he made her feel. The way he made her feel loved and adored. The way he made her feel cherished. Her hands wandered up to his back, tracing the muscles shifting beneath scarred, scarred skin.

She could feel him trembling, feel the tension in his body as he held himself back, but still, he moved in slow and gentle thrusts, taking his time. He worshipped her - every little gasp and moan, every curve of her body. He traced her shape with his fingertips and lips, exploring her as though he was trying to memorize every inch of her body.

She didn't know how long they stayed that way, their bodies as one, but Sky didn't care. She was surrounded by him - the heat of his skin, the sound of his breath, the way he whispered her name like a prayer. Sky could feel the love and devotion pouring through the bond, washing over her in waves, and she knew that this was exactly where she was meant to be. With him, in his arms, completely and utterly whole.

It nearly came as a shock as she came.

A breathless moan fell from her lips as her orgasm rushed over her, her body arching as she called out his name. He kissed her through it, murmuring praise against her lips as he held her close, his own release following soon after.

They stayed there for a moment, tangled together, both of them breathless and sated. Azriel's wings slowly wrapped around them, cocooning them in a warm, protective embrace that made Sky feel safe and cherished in a way she had never experienced before.

***

There was not one inch of his mate's body that wasn't utterly beautiful. From the tips of her arched ears, to her beautiful eyes...to the swell of her breasts and the dip of her waist and the soft flesh of her belly and the flare of her hips...she smelled so good too...especially now that their scents had started to mix, and he could breath in caramel and hazelnuts and cedars and the sweet, beautiful scent of happiness as she laid underneath him. His head was bedded on her stomach, as she drew short fingernails through his messy dark hair. He nearly wanted to start to purr as she scratched at his scalp.

Azriel felt...content.

More content than he ever remembered feeling. He was wrapped up in her, his mate, with her gentle hands in his hair, and he felt utterly and completely at peace. He didn't care if they never moved from that bed again. He didn't care if the world outside their little cocoon burned. So long as she was by his side, he was content. He had never felt like this before. He had never felt this...happy. This...whole.

"I need to go feed Hector," Sky told him softly, trailing her fingers through his hair.

"Can I just have the shadows kidnap him and bring him here?" he asked, not wanting to move.

"You can't go kidnapping my cat, Az," she chided him gently, but even as she said the words, she didn't stop drawing her fingers through his hair, and Azriel didn't move. He was far too comfortable.

"Why not?" he complained.

"You'll terrify him," she said with a laugh. "Besides, do you have cat food here?"

"I'll have the shadows find some Tuna," he mumbled.

"Do…Do they just ac…acquire whatever you tell them to?" she asked him with some amusement. 

And lots of things he didn't tell them to, as well. They thought he didn’t know. 

Azriel raised himself on his forearms, looking down at Sky with a glint in his eye. "You have no idea how many things I've acquired that way," he told her with a grin.

She lifted her hands, cupping his cheeks and pulling him down towards her, resting her forehead against his. "You're a menace," she murmured against his lips.

"Your menace," he replied, kissing her softly.

Sky smiled, a warm, slow curve of her lips that made his chest feel tight. "Mine," she agreed, her voice soft. "But no kidnap…kidnapping my cat. He's at home."

"We could make this our home," he protested softly. "Move in with me."

Azriel had no fucking clue what was even coming over him. They should have slowed down, stopped to think...but neither of them seemed to want to.

They just…they seemed utterly content to crash through what other people considered a normal timeline and just be together right now. 

He just wanted to be near her. He wanted to share a life with her, a home. He wanted to curl up with her in front of the fire on a cold winter's night, and spend lazy Sunday mornings in bed with her. He wanted to take her flying, and watch as she wrote and listened to her read the words she wrote. 

And he wanted - Gods, he wanted her to want that too. He held his breath as he waited for her response.

For a moment, she was silent, and Azriel wondered if he had stepped too far, asked too much too soon. 

But then, Sky smiled again, her eyes sparkling with emotions. 

"...Al…Alright," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll…I’ll move in with you." 

Azriel couldn't help but grin as he pressed his forehead to hers. "Really? You mean it?" he asked, still unable to believe his ears.

"Really," she echoed with a laugh, before her expression turned serious. "But I…I have one co…condition." 

Azriel raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. "What is it?"

"If I move in with you..." she began, wrapping her arms around his neck. "All my books need to come to," she told him seriously.

Azriel laughed, leaning back in to kiss her softly. "All your books can come, if that's what you want," he said. "As long as you're here, I don't care what else you bring."

And then the shadows unceremoniously dumped a screeching demon on the bed with them.

Sky let out a surprised yelp as Hector landed next to them with a thud, quickly scrambling away from the cat - and from under Azriel's weight. Azriel, for his part, sprang up, his wings flaring out in alarm. For several long moments, the three of them just stared at each other. Hector, his mismatched eyes glowing, his fur puffed up to twice it’s normal size, and Sky, her expression a mixture of surprise and affection as she looked at her pet. Finally, she cleared her throat. "Well, that's one way to introduce the two of you. Az, meet Hector."

...Gods, the shadows had really not been lying when they said that the cat was the ugliest thing they had ever seen.

Azriel slowly lowered his wings, eyeing the creature that was half-cat and half-demon. "He...looks like he wants to kill me," he said slowly.

Sky laughed, reaching out to scratch Hector's head. "He's just grumpy because he got teleported here so suddenly," she told him. "And he's not used to strangers." Hector's fur slowly flattened, and he began to purr, rubbing his head against Sky's hand. "Besides, he'd never hurt anyone," she added, looking up at Azriel with a smile.

Somehow Azriel highly doubted that.

Sky picked Hector up, cradling the cat in her arms as his purring grew louder. "See? He's not so bad," she told Azriel, moving towards him, and Azriel had to resist the urge to back away. "Hold out your hand, let him sniff you. He just needs to get used to you."

Azriel hesitantly held out his hand, trying his best to ignore the way Hector's eyes seemed to glow with an eerie light. After a moment, Hector moved forward, sniffing at Azriel's hand. Azriel felt the soft brush of whiskers against the palm of his hand, and Hector nudged his head against him, purring louder.

"See, he loves you!" Sky said enthusiastically

Azriel let out a laugh, slowly scratching the top of Hector's head. "I think he's just trying to lull me into a false sense of security before he scratches my eyes out, you know."

She rolled her eyes, "You are the most handsome cat I know," she cooed at him. "And you won't ever scratch out Azriel's eyes. No, you won't.”

Azriel would not quite go as far as describe the cat as handsome...but then...his own scarred hands weren't particularly beautiful either.

So Hector and him had that in common.

And the fact that they both wanted to cuddle with Sky. Actually, he was pretty sure that the cat hated him just for taking away his monopoly on that.

But Azriel would have shared a house with the King of Hybern if that meant that he got to have Sky in his bed.

She smiled at him, her eyes warm and adoring. "I knew you two would hit it off," she said, holding Hector in the crook of her arm. The cat stared at Azriel for a moment, as if sizing him up, before leaping off Sky's lap and disappearing under the bed with a soft patter of paws. "He'll warm up to you eventually," Sky assured him, but Azriel wasn't so sure about that.

He pulled Sky in closer to him, slipping back underneath the sheets with her, kissing her forehead. "I'll win him over, eventually," he promised her. At least, he hoped he would - he didn't particularly enjoy the idea of having to wake up with his throat being sliced open by an angry cat.

He would buy that damn cat all the Tuna in the world if that made Sky happy.

[thewritingrowlet]

The Office Romance pt. 2, ft. tripleS Seoyeon

tags: creampie, anal, blowjob, food play, rough, daddy kink

length: almost 10k

author's note: I remember you guys liked the first Seoyeon anal fic, so here's another one—enjoy!

-

“Ngh, ngh—oh, fuck!”

Only these sounds escape Seoyeon’s lips as she tries to cope with your cock that’s invading her ass. You’re no better, though; despite being able to speak coherently, the words that come out of your lips are dirty to say the least.

“Oh, fuck, how are you always so tight, baby? You’re so fucking amazing.”

Seoyeon lifts her face off the pillow momentarily. “P-please cum; I-I can’t take much of this anymore,” she begs. It was her idea to do anal this midnight—after your previous load went into her pussy—and you’re simply playing along, but now that she’s visibly uncomfortable, you don’t feel like continuing.

You slowly pull your cock out of her rear and flip her onto her back. “Oh, I’m so sorry, baby,” you wipe some tears off her plump cheeks. “It was so painful, wasn’t it?” Seoyeon nods. “I-I thought I would’ve been able to handle it, but apparently not.” You pull her into an embrace after lying down next to her. “I’m very happy that you’re putting my pleasure as one of your top priorities, but at the same time, I wish you wouldn’t force yourself like this next time.” Seoyeon pecks you on the lips. “It’s because you matter the most to me, oppa.” “I know, baby, and you matter the most to me,” you say, “but let’s not do it like this again.”

The two of you didn’t shower after the first sex session a few hours ago, and you think that now is a good time for it. “Let’s get some shower, baby, and then we can get some proper rest.” “I’ll need your help for that, oppa.” You take your turn to peck her on the lips. “Gladly, baby.”

-

“Hi! Hello!” Dayeon, who happens to be at the lobby, greets you and Seoyeon. She isn’t in the best mood today—you have a few clues as to why—so you’re reluctant to greet Dayeon back with the same energy, because the last thing you want is for Seoyeon to think that you’re too excited to see Dayeon. Seoyeon, however, suddenly picks up her steps, thus leaving you and Dayeon behind.

“Oh.” Dayeon’s smile disappears as she watches her leave. “Is she okay?” You tell her that Seoyeon didn’t have much sleep last night, hence the crankiness, and apologize on her behalf. “I guess I’m not coming to your place tomorrow, then.” You shake your head. “I mean, the idea wasn’t even mine.”

After parting ways with Dayeon, you rush towards the elevator to chase your girlfriend. “There you are.” You approach the grumpy beauty who’s sitting at her desk. “Are you okay, baby? Can I help with anything?” Seoyeon starts crying, taking you by surprise. “I-I’m so tired, oppa, a-and here you are, flirting with another girl.” You want to hug her and assure her that you weren’t even close to flirting with Dayeon, but there’s a CCTV in this area. “Follow me, please,” you tilt your head towards the door to your office, and thankfully, Seoyeon does follow you.

After closing the door behind her, you pull her into a tight hug. “Baby, I wasn’t flirting with her; I was just saying hi because she said hi first.” “I know,” Seoyeon sighs, “I’m sorry, oppa; I don’t know why I’m so sensitive today.” You gently run a hand on the back of her head. “You’re just drained, baby—maybe we shouldn’t push too much to have sex from now on.” Your girlfriend presses her face on your chest. “I just wanted to please you, oppa,” she reasons. “I know, baby, and I thank you for that, but if having sex denies you some much-needed rest, then what’s the point?” Seoyeon pulls away from the hug, wiping her eyes as she does. “I’m going to cry until my eyes are dry if we keep hugging—I’ll start working now.” Before you let her go, you come in for a quick kiss. “I love you, baby.” “I love you too, oppa.”

You go to sit at your desk and see that your computer is already on, and there’s a note stuck on the bezel of your monitor that says, “lunch w/ me @ Tonkatsu Theater.” ���Oh, you want to get lunch with me, baby? That’s very cute.”

-

You arrive at Tonkatsu Theater with Seoyeon at around 1 p.m. “Oh, it’s not that packed,” you comment. “Wouldn’t matter if it did; I’ve booked a table for us.” “You have? When?” “This morning, on our way to the office.”

“A reservation for Yoon Seoyeon, please,” Seoyeon says to one of the staffs, who then asks the two of you to follow him towards the reserved private dining area. “Two tonkatsu, one onion rings, one iced tea with no sugar, and one orange juice, please.” Look, she even orders for you. You wait until the staff leaves before reaching for her hands. “This should’ve been my job, but thank you, baby.” A smile gradually forms on her face, a perfect fit for the rest of her gorgeous features. “Of course, oppa,” she replies, her cheeks pink. “You’re paying for the food, though.” You let out a chuckle that’s louder than intended. “Of course, baby.”

The food arrives at your table not long after you’re seated, which is great; you skipped breakfast this morning because you were running late, so you’re starving right now. Seoyeon slams her hands on the table, a fork in one hand and a knife in the other. “Doesn’t this look amazing?" You nod enthusiastically. “It sure does,” you pick up your utensils, “shall we?”

Seoyeon sinks in her seat after the first bite. “Oh, my—oh my God,” she speaks despite the full mouth, “one bite is all it takes to fall in love.” You see an opportunity to make a joke. “The same way it took you one kiss to fall in love with me?” Seoyeon covers her mouth as she tries her hardest to not laugh and spit everywhere. When the amusement dies down, she kicks you under the table. “Oh my God, stoooop—just eat, oppa, why are you teasing me?” You pinch her round cheeks lightly. “Oh, please, don’t tell me you weren’t amused.”

-

You summon Dayeon to your office with around an hour left in the workday to talk about some debut-related stuff with her and Seoyeon.

“Hi, hi,” Dayeon enters your office with a smile, and you replicate that smile for her. “So, what’s so important?” “I’ll get straight to the point,” you say, “I’m thinking about debuting all seven of them.” She looks at you with this neutral face that you’re not sure what the meaning is. “Is that so?” You nod. “I’m curious about what you think since you’ve spent some time getting familiar with them.” Dayeon sighs. “Soobin-ie needs some more training.” “I mean, we still have time until January at most,” you reason. “Okay,” she says, “then in that case, I want to be more hands-on with Soobin-ie—don’t worry, I’ll make sure I don’t offend the instructors.“ “Yeah, go ahead,” you show her the green light.

“Is that it, or?” You shake your head. “One more thing, actually,” you change the subject, “you were an idol at some point in your life; how was mental health support when you were active?” You can see joy gradually disappearing from her features. “It didn’t exist,” she sighs, “I had to rely on the older members for that, and it goes without saying that they had their own things to worry about.”

You grab some origami papers of different colors that you’ve cut into credit card-sized rectangles. “Seoyeon-ie suggested that we give out these cards to the girls, and whenever they want to talk, they can just show me or anyone at the company one of these things.” “What are the different colors for?” “I know that green is for when they want to talk about work stuff, but I don’t know about red and orange yet.” Dayeon looks at Seoyeon momentarily before turning her focus back to you. “Orange should be for when they want to talk to a psychologist or the sort, and red is for girls’ stuff.” You ask her to elaborate, so she does. “I don’t know, I was thinking that maybe Seoyeon-ie could be their older sister at work, but I think she already has so much in her hands.”

You ask Seoyeon what she thinks about Dayeon’s idea. “I mean, if you can take off some work load off me, then I’ll gladly take on a closer role with the girls,” Seoyeon says. You rub your chin as you think about it; the things you usually assign to Seoyeon are those that you really need help with, so it’s not like you’re slacking off and delegating things to others just because you can, but at the same time, if she can become that person the girls can rely on, it’d be so helpful for them. “We’ll think about it, okay?”

You’re promptly reminded that debuting all seven trainees would mean that you’ll need to find a new living space to properly accommodate them, which you don’t have references for just yet—three of the seven trainees live with their parents, so at the moment, you only need to house the remaining four.

“Dayeon-ah, find some apartments that can fit seven of them comfortably, please?” “Yeah, sure,” she says, “anything else?” “No, that’s it.” Dayeon nods and writes down her new assignment on her phone. “I’ll get to it; give me a day or two,” she says. “Alright, you may go, then.”

You expect her to just turn around and walk out, but no, she bends over your desk and gives you a peck on the lips. “Uhh,” you’re getting nervous, “thanks, I guess?” “Don’t be mad, Seoyeon-ah,” she says, “see you two around!”

You’re still silent even after Dayeon has left your office. You’re snapped out of your trance when you hear a chuckle from Seoyeon. “What are you so stunned for, oppa—you’ve never gotten a kiss from a girl before?” “I didn’t expect her to be so brazen considering that you’re here.” Your girlfriend places her palms on your cheeks. “Something tells me that I don’t have to worry about her,” she says, rubbing your cheeks softly as she does, “I know who I am in your eyes.” “I love you,” you say, earning a cute smile from Seoyeon. “I love you too, oppa.”

You keep an eye on her as she walks away from your desk and out of your office. This morning, she cried because she thought that you were flirting with Dayeon (even though it was a simple, friendly greeting), and about a workday later, Seoyeon said with confidence that she knew her worth in your eyes.

You shake your head to clear your mind. The workday is done and it’s time to go home with Seoyeon.

At least that was the plan, because when you leave your office, you see Jihyun sitting on the other side of Seoyeon’s desk, seemingly sad about something.

“Are you okay, Miss Seo?” Jihyun bites her lip nervously before answering you. “Erm, i-it’s about Sunbin-ie,” she says vaguely. “What about her?” “S-she sprained her ankle just now, a-and I thought I should tell you and Miss Yoon.” You sigh and rub your forehead at the same time. What’s with Sunbin and hurting her legs, man—first it was her calf, and now it’s her ankle. “Where is she now, Jihyun-ah?” “S-still in the practice room, sir, i-if you’d follow me.”

As you and Seoyeon are following Jihyun to the practice room, you nudge her. “Try holding her hand, babe,” you whisper. Seoyeon does as you ask and takes Jihyun’s hand in hers, and Jihyun is visibly surprised. “You’re alright, Jihyun-ah,” she says, “from now on, I’ll be your older sister that you can rely on." Jihyun isn’t quite sure of what to make of the words, but based on her nods, you guess that she likes the idea.

“Girls, the bosses are here,” Jihyun announces your and Seoyeon’s presence as the three of you enter the practice room. You see the girls standing around a seated person who you assume is Sunbin, circling her and thus blocking your view. One of them suddenly turns around, and— “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,” Sunwoo starts singing the song while clapping her hands to the rhythm, followed by the other trainees, and you promptly look at your watch: it is the 6th of November, which is your birthday—if it wasn’t for these girls, you wouldn’t have remembered.

It is when the girls peel away from the circle that you see the white birthday cake (that has some text written in red-colored buttercream on it) in Sunbin’s hands. “Oh my God,” you palm your forehead, “so this was a ploy?” Seoyeon wraps an arm around yours and drags you closer to the cake. “Happy birthday, boss!” You’re highly amused by the surprise. “Thank you, everyone,” you say.

You and Seoyeon sit on the floor with the girls, the cake sitting in the middle like a bonfire. “He doesn’t celebrate his birthday, guys,” Seoyeon says, “it’s only my birthday he celebrates.” Soobin asks why, so you simply say that your family doesn’t really celebrate anyone’s birthday regularly. “Wait,” Soobin says, “did you say he only celebrates your birthday, Miss Yoon?” Seoyeon’s cheeks turn bright red. “Y-yes,” she says, covering her cheeks with her palms, “h-he’s my boyfriend, if you didn’t know already.” Based on the girls’ expressions, you guess that they didn’t know about it.

It is time to address something important: how did they know that it’s your birthday? “Well, I asked Miss Kim—Kim Dayeon, that is,” Sihyeon says, “and now we know everyone’s birthdays.” You shake your head. “So let me ask again, Sunbin-ie didn’t hurt her ankles?” Everyone bursts out laughing. “No, no, no—we just had Jihyun-ie act stressed and sad so that she could get your attention. “Well, dang,” you say, “maybe we should consider giving Jihyun-ie some acting lessons.”

Sunbin pulls out a plastic knife from her back pocket and cuts the cake into 8 parts. “You and Miss Yoon should share, boss,” Sunbin says. Daeun passes a slice over to you along with a spoon. “Choo, choo, baby.” You guide a spoonful of cake towards Seoyeon’s mouth, and with red cheeks, she takes it in her mouth. “Oooooh,” the trainees collectively react, as if sharing the same brain cells. Seoyeon shakes her head as she chews her mouthful. “Alright, alright,” you try saving your girlfriend from further embarrassment, “let’s eat, girls!”

It doesn’t take long for people to finish their slices—Hyeonju even finishes hers in 3 mouthfuls. “Miss Park and Miss Jeon, get some water for us, please.” Soobin and Sunbin do as you ask and grab some bottles of water. “Alright, so,” you start a new topic, “I think this is a good opportunity to talk.” The trainees look at you both in confusion and nervousness. “Oh, don’t worry; it’s nothing to be concerned about—if anything, I think you should be excited about this.”

You briefly explain to the trainees how you’re planning to implement a system where each of them can request an audience with anyone in the company for anything they want to address, from work-related things to personal ones. “A part of the plan is to have Miss Yoon over here to take on a role as your, erm, older sister, I guess.” The seven trainees look at you and Seoyeon in silence, probably processing what this could mean for them. “Look,” you pile on, “I want to provide clear communication channels between us because each of you matters a lot for us.” “And how do you plan on doing that, sir?” “I have some cards of different colors upstairs, and the idea is that different colors represent different purposes; show it to anyone and they’ll take care of you accordingly, from the trainers to the psychiatrist.”

“I like that,” Sunwoo is the first to break the silence, “I think I like that idea, boss.” A smile appears on your face, pushing tenseness away in the process. “Thank you, Miss Jung—anyone else?” Sihyeon asks if seeing the psychiatrist would require them to pay. “No, the company will pay for it, because we’ll be hiring professionals for this.” “Wait, hold on,” Sunwoo speaks again, “please promise us that this system is long-term.” You nod. “As long as me and Miss Yoon are here, it won’t go away.”

“Guys,” Seoyeon takes the baton from you, “please let us know what you think.” Park Soobin, who happens to sit right next to her, hugs her from the side. “Unnie,” she says softly, “I love you, my unnie.” Seoyeon replicates the gesture, beaming as she does. “I love you too, Soobin-ah; talk to me often, ‘kay? I promise I’ll make time for you.”

You step away from the circle to give space, and the girls immediately hug Seoyeon from all directions as a group. You find yourself beaming and your heart is full of warmth because of the sight in front of you. “I’m glad everyone is on board with the idea.” “Can we call you oppa, then?” Jihyun’s question makes you laugh. “I mean, if you’re comfortable with it, then sure.”

The trainees take their previous sitting positions in the circle, thus allowing you to rejoin. “Oh, I just remembered,” you say, “we’re also planning on giving you guys some vacation, since your instructors are going to take some PTO next week.” Some cheer while some others don’t really show excitement. You ask those who aren’t as ecstatic if they’re okay, and they say different reasons as to why they’re not excited: Daeun doesn’t feel like seeing her parents (she doesn’t have the best relationship with them), Hyeonju wants to see her parents but doesn’t have money for transport (that can be fixed easily), and finally, Soobin says she wants to practice more.

“Work will always be there, Soobin-ah,” you say, “don’t you want to take a breather for a moment?” Soobin’s teary gaze strays away from yours. “I think I’m still lacking, sir, and since only 5 of us will debut, I-I need to pick it up.” You notice that Seoyeon is deeply looking at you, and you wonder if this is a good opportunity to reveal the plan of debuting all of them.

A part of you wants to provide comfort for Soobin, but at the same time, it’s too risky to open the card now. “Alright, okay,” you say, “Miss Kim said earlier that she wanted to be more hands-on with your training, so I’m going to entrust you to her.” “Y-yes, sir; I-I will work hard.”

The general mood is declining, and it makes you think that it’s time to wrap it up. “Alright, let’s go home, everyone.” Before leaving with you, Seoyeon makes the time to hug each trainee, offering comfort and kindness to them. “We will see you soon—good evening, everyone.”

As soon as you get in the car with Seoyeon, she confronts you. “Why didn’t you say that all of them will debut?” “I wanted to, but I felt like it was too risky.” She clicks her tongue in disappointment. “They needed comfort, oppa, but you failed to provide them with it—this is their future more than it is ours.” You sigh. “I’m sorry,” you say, “should we tell them now, then?” “No, it’d be embarrassing to go back in there, but you need to tell them soon.”

-

“I’m going to shower first; feel free to do whatever.” Seoyeon beelines towards the bathroom without bothering to shed some clothes off first. “Sure, baby.”

You take a seat on the edge of the bed, feeling very uneasy about the attitude that your girlfriend is showing you. At the same time, however, this wouldn’t have happened had you told the trainees that all of them will debut in January. “It’s fine—this is fine,” you say to yourself, “Soobin-ie still needs to practice more anyway.”

While you wait for Seoyeon to finish showering, you get rid of your work clothes in favor of some more comfortable T-shirt and shorts. “Oppa!” You faintly hear her calling to you from the bathroom. “One second!” You jog a little towards her and see that the bathroom door is slightly open. “Yes, baby?” “Can you grab me some pajamas?” “Sure.”

After grabbing a set of pink pajamas from the wardrobe, you make your way back to the bathroom. “Baby, I’m putting it on the mat, okay?” You see the door swinging open, revealing your drenched, naked girlfriend. “Come here,” she says. Your eyes run up and down her body as you think about the situation—oh, wait, she just shaved. “Erm, sure.”

You stay silent as Seoyeon undresses you, cooperating here and there where you see fit. “Oppa,” she snatches your attention, “listen to me, please.” Your gaze moves to meet hers. “First of all, happy birthday,” she begins, “I didn’t forget it, just so we’re clear, but I didn’t have time to get you a present, so I’m sorry.” You shake your head. “Having you by my side is far better than any present.” Seoyeon looks away momentarily to hide her red cheeks.

“Anyway,” she clears her throat before continuing, “I want to apologize, oppa; I, erm, wasn’t so kind with you this past hour.” You shake your head again. “I understand where you were coming from—actually, I was about to ask you if I should come to their practice tomorrow and announce the plan.” “We can if you want to,” she says, and you simply nod in response.

“Hey, so, erm” you change the subject, “why am I here?” Seoyeon chuckles. “Well, I wanted to suck you—y’know, to celebrate your birthday and all that.” Your lips are shut, but your cock does the talking, getting hard at the prospect of getting a blowjob. “Take a seat somewhere, oppa.” You look for spots in the bathroom and decide that you’ll take the toilet. “I’m ready when you are, baby.”

The way Seoyeon’s hips sway as she’s making her way towards you combined with the sight of her shaved crotch makes you drool. The sight is replaced when she kneels between your legs, her eyes locked on your erect shaft. “Happy birthday, oppa.” “Thank you, love,” you place a hand on the side of her face, “thank you for being here.” Seoyeon, not in the correct position to peck you on the lips, gives you a peck on the tip of your cock.

You gasp when the first few centimeters of your cock enters her mouth. Seoyeon wastes little time and immediately begins bobbing her head along your shaft. “Oh my God, baby,” you say breathily, “you’re always so damn good at this.” Enthused by your praise, Seoyeon plants her hands on your thighs so that she can be stable while sucking your cock fast and deep. Her wet hair sticks on different parts of her face, and you take it as your job to tidy it up as much as you can.

“Oh, God, I won’t last if you do it like that,” you comment when you feel her tongue running on the underside of your shaft. Your cock leaves her lips with a pop. “No, no, no, you can only bust here,” she points at her crotch, “I didn’t shave just for you to cum in my mouth.” You wipe some drool off the edges of your lips. “Okay,” you say, “are we doing it here, then?” Seoyeon looks around the bathroom. “Yeah, let’s do it here; it’s easier for us to clean up after.” “I’m ready when you are, baby.”

You expect Seoyeon to impale herself on your cock, but she doesn’t—she just stands in front of you with her hands on your shoulders. “Are you okay, baby?” She sighs. “I, erm, don’t feel the usual emotions.” You show her a gentle smile. “Is that so, my love?” The endearment makes her blush a little. “If you keep calling me that, though...”

You lift your butt off the toilet, thus towering over her like you usually do. “Love, listen, please,” you rub her cheek gently, “I love you so, so, so much, and I’m thankful for you.” Seoyeon’s big eyes are locked on yours, and her lips are shut tight, waiting for you to pile on. “That said, my love, I apologize for all my shortcomings; I promise I will work on becoming the best person you want to spend your life with.”

“You know I hate empty promises, right, oppa?” You nod. “I do, and I hate them as much as you do, love.” “So, how are you going to show your commitment to fulfill that promise, oppa?” Her question stumps you; how are you going to show your commitment is indeed a very good and valid question. “I-I don’t know.” This cluelessness makes you want to cry—you really want to give her a good answer, but no matter how hard you’re cranking the gears in your head, you just can’t come up with one. “I-I’m sorry, I-I don’t know what to say.”

Seoyeon takes her turn to rub your cheek with her gentle hand. “You don’t have to answer with your words, oppa—actions speak louder anyway.” The embarrassment in your head leads to you dropping your chin, but Seoyeon lifts it up again, thus making you look at her again. “Hey, now,” her voice is very soft, “get yourself together, oppa; I still love you, y’know.” You take a deep breath. “Sorry, love—you brought me here to have sex, and what you’re getting is a mess.” “Let me fix that mess, oppa.”

Seoyeon gets on her tippy toes and places her lips on yours, and with every second passing, you can feel that things are getting clearer for you to see; Seoyeon is here to stay and watch you grow as a man in this relationship with her unwavering patience and warm love. “I love you, oppa,” her soft voice warms your heart, “and trust me when I say that it’s not an empty sentence.” You smile. “I love you more, love—I haven’t the slightest of doubt in my head about us.” Seoyeon smiles sweetly. “I think we’re ready to have sex now.” “We are,” you agree with her, “but I don’t want to do it here.”

You step away from your girlfriend to grab a towel and use it to wipe water off her body. “Sex in the bathroom doesn’t feel appropriate for us right now, don’t you think?” Seoyeon hums in agreement. Once she’s dry enough to not wet the bed, you lift her by her thighs and carry her to the bedroom, exchanging pecks on the way there.

“I take it we’ll be doing vanilla?” “I mean, we have some chocolate in the fridge if you want to spice it up.” Seoyeon laughs. “No, no, no—we didn’t build up all those emotions just to be, uh, naughty.” You take a seat on the edge of the bed with her still on your lap. “Maybe next time, then?” She sticks her tongue out slightly, seemingly full of ideas for “next time.” “We can go crazy next time, oppa, but let’s worry about that next time.”

You fall backwards onto the bed, thus making Seoyeon take the top position. “Oh, I get to be on top?” You chuckle. “As if you’ve never been on top before.” You gasp when you feel her grabbing your cock and stroking it. “You know I like being on the bottom more, but I don’t mind riding this big dick of yours every now and then.”

You’re about to say something but got cut off when Seoyeon lets you in her tight and wet pussy. “Oh, yes, daddy,” she lets out a long moan at the first contact. “Vanilla, baby, remember?” She laughs a little. “Ah, of course—sorry, force of habit.”

She lies on your body, putting those soft tits of hers right on your chest. “Will you marry me one day, baby?” She gives you a peck on the lips. “I will marry you in this life, the next, and the one after.” “You think we’ll meet again in the next life?” She gives you another peck. “We belong to each other, oppa, and we’ll always find our way back, no matter the distance.”

You think that you’ve had enough conversation, so you push yourself upwards into her warm pussy to signal that you’re ready (if not eager) to begin, thus earning a soft moan from her. “You’re perfect for me, oppa, and I’m perfect for you—that Kim Dayeon girl can’t compete with me.” You pinch her cheek lightly. “Let’s not mention another name when we’re in bed like this, baby.” “S-sure.”

You let out a big exhale when Seoyeon does a full up-and-down move along your cock, and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. “Y-you’re doing that thing again, oppa,” she quips, “y-your eyes are rolling to the back of your head.” You let your eyelids close as they wish. “You’re amazing, that’s why.” You get a peck on the cheek from her. “I’m only like this for you, oppa; you make me want to give you the best all the time.” You don’t know how she’s able to speak these many words with your cock lodged deep in her pussy. “Uh-huh.”

Seoyeon wraps her arms tightly around your nape and begins moving her hips along your cock, moaning so damn freely as she does. “Oh, God, if only I could say how much I love you, oppa.” You shake your head. “Actions speak louder, remember?” “Y-yes, I remember, b-but still.”

You collect yourself and lift your body off the bed, and Seoyeon, as if able to read your mind, kisses you without being asked to. “I love you, baby—I love you so much, and I’ll make you mine forever one day.” “Let’s not worry about the future right now, oppa,” her whispered words hit you hard, “let’s think about the here and now.” You chuckle a little. “Sure, baby.”

You move closer towards the center of the bed and take the top position this time. “I want to mark you, baby.” Seoyeon tilts her head to expose your target. “Have at it, oppa.” Your lips promptly latch on the side of her neck, and once she starts moaning because of it, you start moving your hips back and forth to maximize stimulation. “Oh, yes, that’s it, oppa,” she expresses her approval of your actions, “keep going just like that, oppa.”

This relaxed pace works well for you; you don’t have to worry about busting early because of her tight grip and instead are able to really enjoy the sensations. That said, Seoyeon, as per usual, likely needs something more—

“Oppa, I-I’m getting close.”

Well, isn’t that great to hear; you were just about to ask her if she wanted something more to send her across the finish line, but she just announces that she’s about to cross that line.

“We’ll cum together, baby, ‘kay?” Seoyeon nods in response as her eyes are shut tight, unlike her lips where moans are escaping from, and the sight makes you smile. “You’re such a sweet girl, aren’t you, baby?” “A s-sweet girl like me d-deserves a good guy.” You give her some fleeting kisses. “Am I not a good guy, baby?” Her lips form a small but precious smile. “Y-you’re the best, oppa.”

Your heart starts racing as orgasm makes its way closer to you. “B-baby,” your voice is heavy and breathy, “I-I’m about to—” “Yes, yes, give it all to me, oppa.” You tighten the embrace and pick up the pace of your hips a bit, chasing your orgasm with utmost eagerness. “Yes, just like that, oppa—oh, fuck, yes.” Seoyeon’s approval serves as fuel for your nearly exhausted body to keep pushing during this final short stretch.

With a deep grunt, you release a big, warm load into your girlfriend, thus earning a long moan from her. “I—oh, God,” you’re breathless, “I-I love you so much, baby.” Seoyeon’s body begins to tremble in your arms, a sign that confirms your success at the task. “H-hold me! Hold me, oppa!” You make sure your arms stay strong to hold her close, fighting off as much of the exhaustion as you can. “You’re fine, baby; I’m here for you—I’m always here for you, baby.”

It is only when Seoyeon calms down that you let go of the hug and move to lie next to her. “G-get me a pill, oppa.” You gather your strength and roll over to reach the bedside table to get the pill. You hand it over to your girlfriend along with a bottle that’s barely a quarter full. “O-one day, we won’t bother with this thing,” she says, “I-I swear to God, I’ll give you a child, oppa.” You pet her head softly. “One day, sweetie, okay?”

-

You and Seoyeon arrive at your company’s building in a fine and chill Saturday morning.

The two of you head straight to the practice room where you assume the trainees are, and true enough, everyone but Jihyun is present. “Where is Jihyun-ie?” “She went out to run earlier, but she should be here soon.” It’s an odd time to start getting nervous, and you try your hardest to shake it off. “Yeah, okay,” you take a seat on a nearby chair, “we’ll wait for her a bit.”

The 19-year-old trio of Hyeonju, Daeun, and Soobin are lying on the floor, train hugging from one end to the other. “Yah, Shin Daeun, stop moving, will you?” “Then hug me more tightly, dummy.” Hyeonju and Daeun have been close since middle school, which explains their best friend-like dynamics. “I don’t know how Jinhwan-ie can cuddle you through the night.”

Daeun glances at you nervously. “D-don’t say that out loud, Hyeonju-yah—the boss is right there.” You don’t recall including a “no dating” term in anyone’s contract. “Dating is completely fine, girls,” you interject. Daeun reaches behind and slaps Hyeonju on the thigh. “I hate you sometimes, Kim Hyeonju.”

Jihyun enters the room after a short while, panting heavily as she does. “Ah, hi,” she waves at you and Seoyeon, “good morning.” “Good morning to you too, sweetie,” Seoyeon replies, “how far did you run?” Jihyun looks at her smartwatch. “Uh, about 3 kilometers.” “Pace?” “Just around 7 minutes per kilometer.” Seoyeon claps her hands in praise. “Great job, Jihyun-ah.” “I would love to hug you, unnie, but I’m so sweaty.” Seoyeon takes off her cardigan and moves to hug Jihyun. “It’s fine, Jihyun-ah.” “You’re the best, unnie.”

“Alright, now that everyone is here,” you stand up from your chair, “I would like to announce some things, so gather around, please.” The trainees take their spots near you, and you feel as if you were a kindergarten teacher right now. “Let’s start with the big one,” you take a deep breath first, “all seven of you are debuting.” Your announcement is met with confused blinks. “Can someone say something, please?” “All of us are debuting, oppa?” Sunbin finally breaks the silence, and you nod in response, letting out a deep exhale in the process. “You heard me right.”

The trainees look at each other, seemingly excited at the prospect of debuting together. Jihyun suddenly stands up in front of the crowd. “That means no one is getting dropped, right?” She looks at you momentarily and looks at her fellow trainees. “C’mon, girls,” she tries firing up her colleagues, “the boss just confirmed that all of us are debuting, so let’s give this our all—we don’t want to disappoint oppa and unnie, do we?”

Sihyeon gets on her feet and walks towards you. “Oppa,” she says softly, “you’re not riling us up for nothing, are you?” You shake your head adamantly to show seriousness. “What would I gain from lying to you, Sihyeon-ah?” You’re taken aback when she suddenly hugs you. “I-I will work hard, oppa—you won’t regret this, I swear!” You pet her back gently. “I know, Miss Kang,” you say, “give this last part of training period your all, okay, and I promise we’ll do our part in return.”

Sihyeon lets go of the hug and changes her target to Seoyeon and in her arms Sihyeon’s wall crumbles, showing everyone present the vulnerability of her gentle heart. “I won’t let you down, unnie—I swear on everything I won’t let you down.” Seoyeon closes her eyes as she tries her hardest to stay solid for Sihyeon. “I know, I know,” she pets her back gently the same way you did, “and I’m certain you will make it to the big stage.”

You fish out a small handkerchief from your back pocket and hand it to Seoyeon, who then uses it to wipe Sihyeon’s tears. “Hey, hey, listen to me,” Seoyeon says, “we’ll be with you every step of the way, Sihyeon-ah, and whenever you’re worried about something, remember that you’re never alone.” Unable to answer, the crying girl resorts to nodding, and Seoyeon gives her one last pet on the back before letting go.

“Girls,” Seoyeon takes command despite her glassy eyes, “we believe in you, the same way you believed in us when we first took you in as trainees, so please, let’s work hard together and make this dream come true—am I understood?” “Yes, unnie!”

-

It is when you and Seoyeon reach the privacy of your office that she starts breaking down, no longer able to keep herself together. “I love them, oppa,” she begins, “I-I love them like an older sister.” You pull her into a hug and place a hand on the back of her head. “I know, sweetie, and I’m so glad that they have someone like you by their side.” Her wails become louder as her hands hang on to your hoodie tightly to keep you as close as possible. “I-I want a raise, oppa.” You burst out laughing. “Of course, sweetie; I’ll give you a raise soon, okay?”

You stay with Seoyeon until her benevolent heart calms down and her beautiful eyes stop letting out tears. “You’re such a kind person, aren’t you, love?” She lets out a whimper into your chest. “People love you for your kindness, love—you know that, right?” “Yes,” her voice is muffled by your body. You peck her on the top of her head once. “I will never let you go, love; my world would lose its light if you were to leave me.” “I-I won’t—" A sniffle interrupts her. “I won’t leave you forever, oppa.”

You walk backwards and drag her along towards your seat. “Let’s have a seat for a moment, ‘kay?” Your girlfriend nods into your chest, still not willing to look at you in the eyes. “You’re safe here, love; you’re safe with me.”

Seoyeon suddenly lifts her chin and meets your gaze with eyes that are red from the wave of tears. “I love you, oppa.” “Oh, baby,” you chuckle a little, “I love you so, so, so much, too.” “How much?” “I know you don’t like it when I say that I’d die for you, so instead, I’ll say that I love you so much that I want to be healthy all the time so that I can always be with you.” She beams in satisfaction. “Great answer, oppa.”

The bell to your office rings, and you expect Seoyeon to jump off your lap, but no, she still stays seated on you. “You can answer it, oppa.”

You press a button on your desk to unlock the door, and it swings open soon after, thus revealing Dayeon who is dressed in a dance practice attire. “Oh, am I interrupting?” You shake your head. “Can I help you?” “The girls told me about your plan to debut all of them.” “Are you here to share your opinion, then?” “Yes, kind of,” she says, “I think it was wise to tell them now; I can feel the hopefulness in the air.” “My sweet Seoyeon-ie here deserves the credit; it was her idea to announce the plan to the trainees.” Dayeon nods before closing the door and disappearing behind it.

“Oppa,” Seoyeon taps your nape to get your attention, “can we go home now? Let’s leave the trainees with Dayeon-ie.” “Don’t you want to get breakfast before we head home?” She nods against your left cheek. “I want some bubble waffles, oppa.”

-

While you wait for the bubble waffles to be made, Seoyeon is at the nearby convenience store to get some stuff.

“Would you like to add anything to the other waffle?” “Can I have some peanut butter on the side, please?” The staff nods and fills two small cups with peanut butter, as you’ve requested.

As timing would have it, Seoyeon is walking out of the convenience store right as you’re making your way towards it. “Bag secured, baby,” you show her the plastic bag, “we can go home now.” “Of course you got peanut butter,” she comments. “You know me.”

Seoyeon wraps an arm around yours as the two of you walk towards your car. “Do you want to eat in the car, or?” “No, let’s eat at home.”

-

You sit on the sofa with Seoyeon as soon as you enter your apartment. “Here’s yours, baby,” you hand over the cookie-and-cream waffle. “Oppa, don’t eat all your peanut butter; I want some too later.” You guess that she wants to balance the sweetness of her waffle with some peanut butter, so you make sure you don’t use all of it for yourself.

Your girlfriend only eats about half of her waffle before putting it down on the table. “Bedroom,” she says suddenly, “right meow.” “O…kay?” She urges you to go first and says that she’ll join you after drinking some water. “I’ll be waiting for you, baby.”

You promptly begin scratching your head as soon as you climb onto the bed, confused as to why Seoyeon suddenly wants to go the bedroom so early in the day. “She probably wants to cuddle,” you guess.

“Oh, hi, mister,” she walks into the bedroom with urgency, “you know what I want, don’t you?” “Erm, cuddle?” “Cuddle, he says—God, he’s so clueless sometimes,” she thinks, finding your cluelessness both funny and (mildly) annoying. “Yeah, I do want a cuddle.”

You lie flat in the center of the bed and spread your limbs apart, inviting Seoyeon to take her rightful spot, and once she lies on top of your body, you use your limbs to secure her in place. “Like this, my love?” She wiggles a bit to get you to loosen up a little. “It’s perfect now.”

“Hey, so, uh, why are we here?” Seoyeon grunts. “What, you don’t like cuddling anymore?” “C’mon, baby; I didn’t say that, did I? I’m just curious, y’know.” You’re confused when she begins grinding her crotch against yours. “It was supposed to be a segue to sex, but now that you’re asking, we might as well start now.” “Baby, it’s not even 10 yet.” Seoyeon breaks free from your limbs and moves to sit on your stomach. “Surely you’re not denying me sexual pleasures, are you?” You sigh deeply. “No, I’m not; I would never.”

Seoyeon rewards your correct answer with a steamy kiss that helps you get hard. Unfortunately, though, it’s getting a bit painful since these boxers and joggers aren’t the stretchiest. “Babe,” you call to her, “take off my pants, please.” “Of course, daddy.”

She grabs the waistband of your joggers and hooks her fingers to the inside so that she can pull down your boxers at the same time. “My, my, you’re excited to see me, aren’t you?” You nod as she begins stroking your cock. “You know I’m always excited for you.”

To your absolute surprise, Seoyeon pulls out the cup of peanut butter from her shorts pocket. “Remember this, daddy?” You keep your eyes on her as she coats the tip of your cock with peanut butter and spreads it along your length. “Look at this, daddy,” she keeps stroking your shaft to make sure it’s evenly coated, “this is going to taste so good.”

You let out a big exhale when Seoyeon takes your peanut butter-coated cock in her mouth, and she exclaims at the taste. You jolt a little when you feel her tongue running wild on the underside of your cock. “Oh, God, I won’t last if you do it like that, baby.”

After a few minutes of bobbing her head on your cock, Seoyeon taps your thigh to get your attention. “Wook aw we,” she mumbles. Once you look at her, she starts going down on your cock even further until its entirety disappears in her mouth. “Oh, you’re fucking crazy,” you’re breathless at this point, “fuck, your throat is going to get stretched, baby.”

Seoyeon comes up air after having had her airway blocked by your cock. “That was so good, daddy; the peanut butter added some extra flavors.” You nod weakly. “I-I’m glad, baby.” She climbs onto the bed and lies down next to you. “Your turn, daddy,” she pulls out another cup of peanut butter—the one that you ate out of less than an hour ago—and places it on your chest. “Gladly.”

With half a cup of peanut butter in hand, you pull Seoyeon by her legs towards you until her legs hang past the edge of the bed. “You know where this is going, don’t you?” Seoyeon nods. “Tell me, then, baby.” “Y-you will smear peanut butter over my pink pussy and eat me out until I squirt all over your face.” She rarely talks about herself in such a manner, and hearing it arouses you even more. “That’s correct, baby.”

You get on your knees, and Seoyeon’s shiny pussy is right in front of your eyes. She jolts when you place a finger on her nub. “Aww, sensitive much?” She nods. “P-please, daddy, make me feel good.”

You use your index and middle fingers to pick up some peanut butter and spread it crassly on Seoyeon’s pussy, and she keeps moaning as you do it. “Oh, this is going to taste so good,” you use her line against her. “D-don’t say it like—oh, God, daddy.” Seoyeon immediately clamps your head with her thick thighs, and you swear that they cancel noises better than any fancy Sony headphones in your collection.

You continue administering stimulation on her pussy, earning endless sensual moans from your girlfriend, and at this moment, you’re glad your parents have inherited their love for peanut butter onto you. “D-daddy,” her voice is barely heard, “d-daddy, I’m about to cum.”

You pick up the intensity of the cunnilingus as you’re highly enthused to make her finish; your tongue runs all over her pussy while occasionally sucking and nibbling her nub. Seoyeon places a hand on the back of your head while using the other hand to play with her plump tits for extra stimulation.

You’re surprised when Seoyeon’s juice suddenly hits you in the face, but you manage to open your mouth just in time to catch some of them. Unable to speak, you tap her thigh to get her attention. “W-what?” You swallow her juice that’s pooled in your mouth in one go, and Seoyeon lets out a chuckle. “You’re insane, daddy.”

You use some wet wipes to clean yourself and your girlfriend. “T-thank you, daddy.” You peck her on the forehead. “No, baby, thank you—I hope this is enough for now, though.” She nods. “It should be.”

Seoyeon climbs onto your body when you lie on the bed. “D-daddy,” she moves on to a different subject, “do you—erm, do you like my body?” You’re both startled and confused. “What is that question, babe?” “I mean, I-I’m not as fit as Dayeon-ie—I think her tits are also bigger than mine.” Your jaw drops due to the absurdity. “When have I compared you to her, hm?” “J-just answer the question, daddy.”

You take a deep breath as you formulate an answer for your girlfriend. “First of all, I love your physique because you’re thick on the right spots. Number two, you’re very tight, both the front and the back.” “Really?” You scoff. “Do you not remember how I busted early when we first did anal?” Seoyeon giggles. “That virgin ass was too much for your mighty cock, wasn’t it, daddy?” “Oh, for sure.”

Based on her smile, you estimate that she’s satisfied with your answer. “Baby, look,” you say, “you know I’m not a fan of talking about a girl’s body like that, but I hope you understand what I was trying to say.” She nods. “I-I just needed some boost to my confidence, daddy, and you delivered just that.” You give her a peck on the lips. “I’m glad I could help.”

Seoyeon straightens her posture. “Can I have this, daddy?” She asks as she starts stroking your cock again. “Are you desperate for it?” “Oh, c’mon, you know I can’t have enough of you, and I know you can’t have enough of me.” You chuckle. “That’s one way to put it.”

Your girlfriend lifts her butt of your lap and— “Oh, fuck, you’re in my ass, daddy.” “Yeah?” You can only say one word as you fight her constraining asshole. “You’re so big in my ass, daddy—fuck, you’re stretching me like crazy.” You reach around to spank her. “Ride my cock, baby.” “Y-yes, sir.”

Seoyeon plants her hands on your chest and begins moving up and down at a relaxed pace on your cock, savoring the sensation of getting stretched that is almost too much for her. “N-no one can do it like I can, right, daddy?” You’re about to open your mouth when she piles on another question. “No one can take you in the ass as well as I can, right, daddy?” “Yes, and yes,” you say, “no one can do it like you can, and no one else deserves me like you do.”

Seoyeon rewards your correct answers (again) by picking up the pace of her bounces, and you can’t help but let go of the controls of the session. “Just like that, baby—exactly like that,” you make sure the praises are flowing without hindrance. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” curses are flowing out of Seoyeon’s lips without hindrance—quite the contrast with you, but it’s no secret that opposites attract like crazy.

“D-daddy,” she’s showing signs of exhaustion, “t-take over, please—take over and fuck me like you always do.” You pull her into an embrace and roll over so that you’re on top. “Are you going to tap out like last time?” “Hold me down and force me to take it, daddy—I’m your slut.” That’s quite the nasty term, but at this moment, it only adds to your arousal. Your giggle sounds like a movie villain’s. “Alright, bet.”

You hold her legs and fold them over her body. “You’re going to take it like a good slut, aren’t you?” Seoyeon nods. “F-fuck—OH, FUCK ME, DADDY!” The bedroom is getting filled with screams and moans from your girlfriend and heavy grunts from you as you pound her ass without mercy.

Seoyeon’s eyes start rolling backwards as time goes, completely in submission to your cock. A particular thrust messes up your hair, thus disrupting your vision of your girlfriend. You stop momentarily to tidy up, and while you’re at it, you take a moment to check up on her. “You okay, baby?” She nods weakly. “M-my ass is going to be so sore,” she says weakly.

With your hair tidied up, you start moving again at a pace that’s similar prior to the pause. “Ngh, ngh, ngh.” Only these sounds come out of Seoyeon’s mouth as you fuck her ass restlessly to chase an orgasm. In her head, she’s praying that it’s good enough for you, considering that she can’t help but be passive in this position. “Daddy is using me,” these words keep going around in her head endlessly, but she must admit, anal sex offers much more sensation; the pain, the tightness, and the stretch are different than vaginal sex.

With a grunt, you lodge your cock as deep as you can into her ass and blow a massive load right into her. “B-baby,” you’re breathless again, “I love you so, so, so much.” “Have mercy,” she weakly replies. When you retreat from her ass, it leaks out some excess cum onto the bed, but that’s fine, you can just swap the sheets. “Are you okay, baby—are you hurt?” Seoyeon shakes her head. “I-I need some water, though.”

-

You’re sitting at the desk in your bedroom while Seoyeon (who is still naked) is lying in bed and is on her phone, scrolling through social media.

“Babe,” you call to her, “Jihyun-ie is video-calling me.” “Why?” “I don’t know,” you’re as clueless as she is. Seoyeon sits on your lap and tilts the webcam upwards so that it doesn’t pick up her nude form. “Accept it, oppa; I want to hear what she has to say.”

“Oh my God, you’re both here!” You see that it’s actually Hyeonju and Sunwoo, the latter holding a guitar. “Oh, you two are really dating, huh?” You chuckle. “What would I gain from lying to you, Miss Kim?”

“Wait, Seoyeon-unnie,” Sunwoo says, “you’re not naked, are you—I can see your bare shoulder, you know.” Seoyeon looks away momentarily before winking at Sunwoo, and she’s met with exclaims of disbelief from the two girls. “I really shouldn’t have asked that, huh?” “No, but it’s okay; me and oppa are consenting adults.”

“So, to what do we owe this call, girls?” Hyeonju fights the heat in her cheeks and says that her and Sunwoo would like to give you a present in the form of some song covers. “We practiced this afternoon, oppa,” she adds. You look at Seoyeon through the screen and see that she’s excited to hear them sing. “Sounds great—we’re ready when you are.”

Sunwoo starts playing the guitar to signal to Hyeonju that she’s ready, and Hyeonju starts bopping her head as she gets ready to sing. “Feel free to sing along, boss,” she says right before it’s time to sing.

私は私 貴方は貴方と (I am only me, you are only you)

昨夜言ってた そんな気もするわ (I said that last night and still feel the same way)

グレイのジャケットに (You in your gray jacket)

見覚えがある コーヒーのしみ (With that familiar coffee stain)

相変らずなのね (Just as you always are)

ショーウィンドウに 二人映れば (Our reflection in the display window)

You know this song so well; at some point in your university life, you and your friends were obsessed with this song and listened to it so frequently, but Seoyeon doesn’t know what song this is. “I’ll tell you more about it later,” you whisper to her as you get ready to sing along.

Stay with me~

真夜中のドアをたたき (Knocking on Midnight’s door)

帰らないでと泣いた (Begging you to not go home)

あの季節が 今 目の前 (That season when I cried right in front of your eyes)

Stay with me~

口ぐせを言いながら (Saying our favorite words)

二人の瞬間を抱いて (Holding on to our little moment)

まだ忘れず 大事にしていた (I’ll never forget it as long as I live)

You clap your hands loudly in praise and awe when Hyeonju stops singing. “Oh my God, Kim Hyeonju,” you say, your tone high in excitement, “you absolutely killed that cover—goodness me!” “You know that song, boss?” You roll your eyes playfully. “That should be my question—how do you know that song that’s older than your parents, hm?” Hyeonju laughs. “I stumbled upon it when I was scrolling the internet,” she gives a very typical today’s kid’s answer. “I was obsessed with that song when I was in university, you know.”

Seoyeon taps your forearm. “What song was that, oppa?” “Girls, your Seoyeon-unnie doesn’t know what song it was,” you tease her, “the song is called Mayonaka no Door, sweetie, sung by the legendary Miki Matsubara and was released in 1979.” Her jaw drops. “Oh my God, that’s a long time ago.” You nod. “That’s why I wondered how Hyeonju and Sunwoo knew about this song.”

Hyeonju asks for your attention, citing that she and Sunwoo are ready to present the second song cover for you and Seoyeon. “Ah, I know this one,” Seoyeon comments when Sunwoo starts playing her guitar.

네가 날 싫어해하는 걸 알아 (I know that you hate me)

나는 서운해 (I’m sad)

그런 날 왜 너는 못 이해해 (Why can’t you understand me?)

You don’t understand, 난 너를 좋아한다고 (You don’t understand, I like you)

You have a big grin on your face, expecting Sunwoo and Hyeonju to share the lines like the original artists, and true enough, they are.

내가 뭘 잘못했는데 (What did I do wrong?)

내게 왜 그러는데 (Why are you doing this to me)

그럴수록 난 되게 섭섭해 (The more you do that, the sadder I get) Oh I’m so sad

그러니까 슬슬 (So let me slowly) come into your

마음 ,중요한 건 마음 (Heart, the important thing is the heart)

결코 네 얼굴만 보고 좋아하는 거 — 아니 아니야 (I’m not liking you just for your face—no, no)

날 미워하는 너의 날이 선 말투까지도 (Even your sharp words that hate on me)

사랑하게 된 거 이게 내 맘이야 (I came to love them, this is my heart)

Just like before, you clap your hands loudly in praise. “Great job, girls,” you add, “wow, you’re great at this.” “We told you we wouldn’t let you down, didn’t we, boss?” You can hear the pride in Sunwoo’s voice. “Oh, that you did, Sunwoo-yah, and trust me when I say that I’m anything but disappointed right now.”

You’re interrupted when Seoyeon suddenly kisses you in front of the girls, and you can hear their loud, surprised exclaim through the video call—this is the first time she has committed a public display of affection with you. “Oh my God, you two are so in love,” Sunwoo comments. “You have no idea,” Seoyeon says after breaking the kiss, “oppa is such an amazing boyfriend for me.” “Promise us you’ll invite us to your wedding, unnie,” Sunwoo adds, thus making Seoyeon laugh. She leans closer towards the camera, presumably to whisper something into the microphone. “Hey, uh, don’t tell anyone yet, but the wedding is closer than you think.” You’re met with another loud scream from the other side of the screen.

You tap her back to get her attention. “You think so, baby?” You speak quietly so that the microphone doesn’t pick up your voice. “Oh, I know so,” she says, “I’m going to make you mine, oppa.” Another grin decorates your face.

“And you’re going to be mine forever, baby girl.”

[jetii]

By Your Name

Pairing: Wrecker x fem!Reader / Wrecker x Jedi!Reader

Words: 11,228/18,183

Tags/Warnings: angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, forbidden romance, unrequited feelings, love confessions, some kissing and heavy petting, smut in part 2

Summary: Ever since you were assigned to the squad, Wrecker has delighted in calling you pet names in Mando'a — an'edee, cyar'ika, mesh'la, the list goes on. Little does he know, you understand every single one of them, and it's starting to become a problem.

A/N: I wrote this months ago and got around to editing it recently and whoa, was not prepared for the sad. Sorry about that! This is mostly self-contained to part one, with part two being purely a smut add-on for my own amusement. I'll post that next week.

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You hit the ground hard, skidding to a stop face down in the dirt, your whole body aching. The ringing in your ears slowly subsides, and the sounds of battle come back in bits and pieces. The roar of blasterfire, the clatter of droids and metal feet, and crunch of tanks rolling over rubble. You groan and turn yourself over onto your back, coughing and trying to get the taste of dirt out of your mouth, just in time to see a droid bearing down on you, cannon aimed.

You try to move, but you’re completely winded. Your lightsaber was thrown from your grasp when you were sent flying, and it lay several feet away, taunting you with the idea of your own survival. You close your eyes and prepare for the worst, waiting for the searing pain of a laser bolt tearing through you

There’s the sound of metal tearing as a large hand grips the droid’s head and rips it clean off its neck, and your eyes fly open as the metal body falls to the ground in a clatter of lifeless metal, its head still in the hands of your savior.

You look up and meet Wrecker’s eyes, and he pushes his helmet up with the back of his hand to offer you a toothy grin, the droid head held aloft in the other. The relief at seeing him alive and well washes over you like a tide, and you can only manage a weak smile back, your ribs smarting from the impact of your fall.

"That was a close one!" he says, tossing the head away like a child throwing a ball for a dog. It pings off the chest of a droid advancing on the pair of you, sending the metal soldier careening backwards.

"A little too close for my liking," you wheeze, and you take his offered hand. Wrecker pulls you to your feet with ease, the motion tugging you close to his chest, and his arm wraps around you to steady you.

“You okay, cyar’ika?” he shouts over the sound of another tank exploding, a cloud of debris flying up and raining down around you in a shower of dust and smoke. You nod, the movement stiff and stilted, and you pray he doesn’t notice the flush on your cheeks at the use of that Mando'a word.

And that's the problem, isn't it? Cyar’ika, sarad, mesh’la, all the words he said to you in his native tongue, thinking you wouldn't know the difference. It made your heart race and your head spin, and the fact that you understood exactly what they meant only made it worse. It was like a secret between you two, one you weren't supposed to know.

The words made your heart do cartwheels, but the tone he said them in?

That was what was really going to kill you.

The soft way he said the words, the gentle, affectionate way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention, the way his hand seemed to linger on your shoulder after pulling you back up from a fall, the way his smile made your knees weak... It all came together to paint a picture of how Wrecker felt. It was a picture that made your face feel warm and your throat dry, and it was one that was starting to drive you crazy.

It also drove you to distraction, so much so that you hadn't even noticed the AAT firing at you until you were flying through the air.

And now you're here, in Wrecker's arms, your heart beating fast for more than one reason. You take a moment to gather yourself before stepping back, Wrecker's arm falling reluctantly from around your shoulders, and you give him a grin that's a little stronger this time.

"I'm alright, thank you!" you shout back. "We need to stop that tank!"

Wrecker nods, and the two of you turn to face the massive tank, which was slowly making its way through the city, demolishing everything in its path. The cannons swivel back and forth, destroying a building to your right, then to the left, then forward.

You call your lightsaber back into your hand, and it flies past Wrecker's head into your awaiting palm. You ignite the blade and glance at him, and he grins and cracks his knuckles before slamming his helmet back onto his head.

"Ready, cyare?"

Your breath catches in your throat. It wasn't the word you thought he'd use, but the endearment has the same effect. He doesn't seem to realize what he's said, and you decide not to bring it up.

You can think about it later. For now, you had a droid army to stop.

"Ready," you murmur.

Wrecker holds his hand out to the side, bowing his head in a courtly gesture. "After you."

You roll your eyes and step past him, and you feel the heat of his gaze on the back of your neck.

"Keep up, then."

It doesn’t get any easier.

You try your best not to let it affect your performance. You focus on the missions, on keeping your men safe, but Wrecker is always there, with a compliment or a gentle touch, and the feelings grow until they threaten to burst from your chest.

He does everything in his power to make you laugh, and every time he does, your stomach feels like it's doing backflips. He calls you pet names and winks at you, and your knees get weak. He smiles at you, and the world seems to get brighter.

He does everything he can to protect you, and you find yourself falling for him, hard.

And you can't let it show.

So you ignore the feeling, try to bury it deep inside, but you can feel it growing, day by day.

You have never wanted to tell someone how you feel so much, and yet you are absolutely terrified to do it. It's almost funny, really. You’ve stared down the barrel of a blaster a hundred times, fought dozens of battles, and yet this one man is the only one who can make your heart race.

But there's a difference. With the other things, you could always fight back, try to fix the situation. But how can you fight against feelings? How can you stop yourself from falling in love with the most wonderful person you've ever met?

You can't, and you know it.

Every night, you think about telling him, but every morning, the fear stops you. In the light of day, the idea of a Jedi and a clone being together is ridiculous. It's impossible, and you can't risk your career and his life for something so foolish. So, each time, you say nothing, and the words go unsaid, lingering between the two of you, a heavy weight that seems to follow wherever you go.

You try your hardest not to think about it, but it's like a constant buzzing, an annoying insect that's always in your ear, always nipping at your thoughts, always reminding you of something you don't want to deal with. It's dangerous, and distracting, and it makes you worry that someday, someone will find out.

And that's the most terrifying thing of all.

If the Council ever discovered what was going on between you, they would have no choice but to separate the two of you. The thought of never seeing him again fills you with a deep dread, and the knowledge that it could happen at any time drives you crazy.

Every time the thought comes to the forefront of your mind, you try to push it away, and the effort has become a daily struggle. The others have noticed your preoccupation, and have done their best to cheer you up, but even their good-natured attempts have become frustrating, the reminders of what you were trying not to think about grating on your nerves.

The only person who doesn't seem to notice is Wrecker.

It's ironic, really. It's Wrecker who causes all the trouble, and it's him who's oblivious to it. He doesn't know the effect his words have on you, and if he does, he doesn't acknowledge it.  Instead, he seems to be more affectionate, more playful, more himself than ever, and the more you try to push away your feelings, the harder they come crashing back.

It's like being caught in a riptide, unable to stop yourself from being pulled farther and farther out, no matter how much you struggle. You wish he would stop, wish he would just back off and let you think, but a part of you doesn't want him to. A part of you wants this, wants him, and it's slowly consuming the rest of you.

The only thing that keeps you sane is the knowledge that you will have to return to Coruscant soon, and that when you do, you can go back to the Order, and put the distance between you that you sorely need.

You can't hide anything from the Council. The Force is your ally and enemy, and it shows you exactly how they would react if they ever found out about you and Wrecker.

Dismissal. Disapproval. Disdain.

All things you're not ready to face, and the sooner you're separated, the better. That thought, the idea that you won't have to see Wrecker every day, helps to soothe your anxiety, and, despite the guilt and sadness it brings, you look forward to the mission ending.

The sooner you can distance yourself from him, the easier it will be.

At least, that's what you tell yourself.

You have no idea how wrong you are.

The tunnel network on Akiva is a mess, a winding labyrinth of tunnels and dead ends. The six of you have been trying to navigate them for hours now, and it's starting to take its toll. You've lost the trail of the tactical droid you're hunting multiple times, only to pick it up again an hour later. Your patience is wearing thin, and the squad is getting restless. You're all tired and hungry, and the dim, flickering lights of the tunnels are giving you a headache.

"How many turns have we made?" Crosshair asks, his voice echoing in the narrow tunnel. He's leading the pack with Hunter, whose trying his best to keep up with the trail, though it's growing colder by the minute.

"I...have lost count," Tech admits bitterly, squinting at the holographic map of the tunnels displayed on his datapad. "Perhaps we should have split up, that would have made the task—"

"Not happening," Wrecker cuts in, his voice firm.

"I wasn't finished," Tech snaps.

"Yeah, but you were gonna suggest splitting up," Wrecker says, "and that ain't gonna happen. We're all staying together."

"Tech, if we split up, we might lose each other," Hunter adds, his voice strained as he concentrates. "This trail is difficult enough to follow as it is. I don't need the distraction of trying to find a missing man on top of it."

Tech opens his mouth to reply, but stops when he catches your eye, and you give him a subtle shake of your head. He sighs and nods, looking back down at his datapad. "As always, the logical course of action is the least popular," he mutters.

Hunter snorts, but says nothing, and you and the rest of the group continue down the tunnel. You trail behind the group, trying to keep your frustration in check, when you suddenly feel a presence behind you, and you glance back to see Wrecker fall into step next to you, a small smile on his face.

"Hey," he says softly, and you can't help but return the expression. You realize what you're doing and try to school your features, but the damage is already done, and Wrecker's smile widens.

"Hi," you murmur.

"You holding up okay?" he asks.

You nod, the movement stiff. "I'm fine."

"You sure? Cause you look like you're ready to kill someone."

You grimace and glance ahead, where the others were slowly disappearing from view, and you lower your voice. "I'm sorry. It's been a long day."

"Ain't that the truth," Wrecker mutters.

"This is a mess," you sigh, glancing around the cramped, dimly lit tunnel. "We're not gonna find anything at this rate."

He shrugs, and his elbow nudges yours gently. "It'll be alright, cyar'ika. We'll find him."

The affectionate word is like a bucket of cold water thrown over your head, and your heart skips a beat. You swallow hard, and nod, hoping he can't see the flush on your cheeks.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Cause we're the best there is," Wrecker says. His arm brushes yours as the pair of you walk, and his fingers bump yours. He pulls his hand back quickly, but not before his fingertips brush against the back of your hand, and you can't suppress the shiver that runs through you. "And we have the best General in the galaxy."

"Stop," you groan, the tips of your ears burning. "I'm not the best. I've gotten us lost three times today, Wrecker. Three. If I was a better General, I would have found this stupid droid by now."

"Hey," he murmurs. "It's not your fault."

You keep your eyes on the ground, but his hand comes up and his fingers brush the back of yours. Your hand twitches, but you don't move, and his thumb runs gently over the back of your hand. You're too distracted by his touch to notice that the group had stopped walking, and it's only when Hunter speaks that you snap back to reality.

"Guys, we've got a problem."

You and Wrecker stop short, and you pull your hand from his quickly, ignoring the way his face falls. You glance up and see the other clones gathered around the entrance to a large cavern, their backs turned to you.

"What's wrong?"

Crosshair steps aside to allow you to join the group, and his eyebrow arches as his eyes flicker between you and Wrecker, a smirk crossing his face. You pointedly ignore him, and he shakes his head before returning his attention to the task at hand.

"Dead end," Hunter says.

"I don't understand," Tech murmurs. He steps forward to scan the walls and floor of the cavern with his datapad, and Echo peers over his shoulder. "According to the map, this tunnel should continue on, not stop at a room."

"Well, clearly it does," Crosshair snarks as he moves past you into the cavern. "Or are we supposed to climb the wall?"

"The structural integrity of these walls is poor," Tech replies. "Climbing would only serve to bring the ceiling down upon us."

"Then how are we supposed to get through?" Echo asks, and you bite your lip, the wheels turning in your mind.

Crosshair's flashlight pans over the walls and floor, illuminating the room, and it's then that you see the marks in the dirt. Footprints, dozens of them, some large, some small. Hunter crouches down and brushes the prints, and he frowns and pulls his glove off, running his fingers along the floor.

"These are fresh," he murmurs.

"So are these," Echo says. He and Crosshair are crouched by the far wall, examining a patch of disturbed dirt. You move to take a step forward when a chill runs up your spine, and you freeze, the hairs on the back of your neck rising.

Something is wrong.

You feel it, the air becoming thick with danger. Your muscles tense, your hands clenching at your sides, and the others must sense it, too. They rise to their feet and turn to you, their weapons ready, and the only sound is the distant dripping of water and the soft whirring of Tech's datapad.

"What is it?" Hunter whispers, his voice barely audible, but you can't answer. Your eyes dart around the cavern, searching for the threat. There's no cover in the room, nowhere to hide, and it's making your skin crawl.

"I don't know," you whisper back.

Suddenly, the ground beneath your feet starts to sha, and the men shout in alarm as the shaking gets worse. Dust falls from the ceiling, and you scramble backwards, trying not to fall as the walls start to crumble.

"Go! Go!" Hunter shouts, and the group bolts for the tunnel. You trip on a stone, and the ground cracks and splits open, swallowing the rocks whole. Wrecker grabs you and pulls you to your feet, and the pair of you race after the others, the cavern falling apart around you.

"This isn't natural!" Tech shouts, and he ducks as a rock flies towards him, missing him by inches. "The droid must have set charges!"

"Doesn't matter! Just keep moving!" Hunter yells.

There's a loud roar, and the ceiling comes crashing down. You barely have time to throw up your hands before the weight of the cave-in hits you, and your arms tremble with the effort of holding it up. Ahead of you, the others shout, but the dust and rocks muffle the sound. Your knees buckle, and the rubble starts to push down on you, your back bowing.

No, no, no, no...

The rocks shift, and your hands slip, and the ceiling starts to come down again, and all you can think is that you're not ready, not ready, not ready—

There's a flash of black, and suddenly Wrecker is diving towards you, his arms wrapping around your waist, and the two of you are thrown to the side, out of the way of the falling rocks. He wraps himself around you, his broad shoulders protecting your head, and the pair of you hit the ground hard as the rest of the cavern collapses.

The impact knocks the wind from your lungs, and you're left gasping for breath, unable to move as the cave-in rages around you, the sounds of the others muffled by the rocks. After what feels like an eternity, the noise and movement ceases, and silence settles in, save for the soft tumble of stones.

Your eyes fly open, and you're greeted with darkness. It takes a moment for them to adjust, and you blink away the grit, a shudder running through you. Your limbs feel heavy, and it's only then that you notice the crushing weight on top of you. You can feel the hard edge of plastoid digging into your chest, something softer cradling your head, and Wrecker's heavy breathing fills your ears.

"Wrecker?" you rasp.

His body moves against yours, and his helmet buried in the crook of your neck, his chest rising and falling as he pants for air.

"Yeah?"

"Are...are you okay?"

He laughs, a soft, wheezy sound, and his grip around you loosens, his arms pulling back, allowing the air to return to your lungs.

"Am I okay? I should be askin' you that!"

You laugh, the sound coming out as a half-sob, and you feel his hand cup the back of your head, his fingers threading gently through your hair. "What...what happened?"

"You almost got crushed," he replies, his voice hoarse. "Had to get you outta there."

You blink rapidly, trying to get the dust out of your eyes, and the dim light illuminates his form. He's curled around you, his body protecting yours, and his arms are still holding you tight, one wrapped around your waist, the other cupping the back of your head, his fingers gently stroking your hair.

"Oh," is all you can manage.

"Yeah," Wrecker chuckles, and his grip tightens. "'Oh' is right."

"How did you...?"

"I dunno," he mutters, and his chest rumbles with his words. "I just knew I had to get to you, no matter what."

"Well, thanks."

You swallow hard, trying to ignore the fluttering in your stomach. His hand is large enough to cradle your entire head, and his thumb gently strokes the skin of your neck. You're suddenly hyper-aware of the feeling of him pressed against you, the weight of him, the warmth, the smell of metal and dirt and sweat, and you can't help the way your face heats up.

Your hand pushes at his chest plate, and his grip on you loosens. "Uh, we should—"

"Right!" Wrecker exclaims as his arms unwrap from around you. "Sorry!"

"No, no, it's okay!"

"I shoulda let go sooner," he babbles, and you can hear the flush in his voice. "I didn't mean to..."

"It's fine," you assure him, and you sit up, wincing at the aches and pains in your body. You can hear him move beside you, his armor scraping the floor as he stands, and a moment later, a gloved hand appears in front of your face.

"Need a hand?"

"Thanks," you say, and Wrecker helps you up. The pair of you stand for a moment, listening to the silence around you. The room is dark, the only illumination coming from the narrow gaps in the stones above you, and the occasional shift sends dust falling from the ceiling.

“—al…Wrecker! Are you alright?" Hunter's voice crackles through the comms, the sound distorted by static.

"I'm okay," Wrecker replies, stepping back a little as he activates his comm. He pauses and glances down at you, and his head tilts slightly, like he's looking you over.

"What is it?" you ask, and Wrecker hesitates, his fingers brushing yours.

"You sure you're alright, cyar'ika?"

The endearment is like a slap to the face, and you blink rapidly, taken aback.

"I'm fine, thank you," you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

Wrecker doesn't seem convinced, and his fingers curl around yours. "You don't sound fine."

"I am."

"Really?"

"Yes, Wrecker," you snap. "I'm fine."

"Wrecker, report!" Hunter's voice demands, and Wrecker pulls his hand from yours and activates his comm again.

"We're okay," he says. "Me and the General."

"Thank the Maker," Hunter replies. "What happened?"

You let Wrecker answer while you try to calm yourself, your heart pounding against your ribs. It's just a word, you tell yourself, and yet the knowledge that he was willing to put himself in harm's way, risk being crushed by the rocks just to get to you...

You're not sure how much more of this you can take.

"Is anyone injured?" you ask, cutting off Wrecker mid-sentence.

"No," Hunter replies. "A few bumps and bruises, nothing serious."

"Good," you say. You walk toward the wall of rubble, reaching out with the Force and testing it, searching for a way out. There are gaps here and there, large enough for a person to fit through, but the amount of debris is daunting, and you know that without tools, the task would take hours.

"Well, this is a karking mess," Crosshair grumbles, speaking your thoughts aloud.

“You can say that again,” you say. “We’ll try to dig our way out, but it might take a while."

“Negative,” Tech’s voice cuts in immediately. “This tunnel system is too unstable. Any further attempts to excavate the debris could result in further cave-ins, which could cause catastrophic structural damage.”

You sigh, leaning your head against the rocks. "So we're stuck?"

"It would appear so," Tech replies, and you can practically hear him grimace.

“What are your orders, General?” Echo asks. You can tell by the sound of his voice that he knows what you’re about to say, but the question still makes your stomach twist. You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, but the feeling of the walls closing in is growing, and the anxiety is starting to become overwhelming.

"You're going to have to leave us," you say softly.

The words are met with a chorus of protests, and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to block out the noise. Behind you, Wrecker has fallen silent, and his eyes are burning into the back of your skull, his presence looming, waiting.

"You'll be walking blind," Hunter argues. "Without Tech, you could get lost."

"Or crushed," Crosshair snarks.

"It's dangerous," Echo adds.

"It is," you reply. "But we can't stay here. We need to find the tactical droid, and the longer we wait, the colder the trail gets. So get moving. That's an order."

There's a moment of silence, then: "Copy that."

“May the Force be with you,” you reply, and you turn off your comm and close your eyes.

The silence seems deafening after the sound of the voices, and you stand there for a moment, collecting yourself. You can still feel Wrecker behind you, and his presence is as comforting as it is suffocating. You take a deep breath and steel yourself before turning to face him, and you offer him a small smile.

"Ready to get outta here?"

He doesn't reply, and his gaze is so intense that it makes your skin crawl. You clear your throat and glance away, and when you look back, he's still staring.

"Wrecker?"

"You really think they're gonna leave us here?"

"They don't have a choice," you say gently. "And neither do we."

He grunts, but says nothing, and he turns away to scan the rubble, the flashlight on his helmet casting eerie shadows on the walls. You watch him as he walks the perimeter of the cave, and it's not until he's made his third trip around the space that he speaks again.

"There's a gap over here," he calls, and you cross the cavern to join him.

He's right; the rocks have formed a tunnel, large enough for you to crawl through, and when you peek through the other side, the tunnel stretches on for several meters, the walls and floor clear of debris.

"Well, at least we have somewhere to start," you murmur.

"I'll go first," Wrecker offer, and he drops to his knees and crawls into the opening, his wide shoulders brushing the stone. You follow close behind, crawling over the jagged rocks, and when you reach the other side, Wrecker grabs your arm and helps you stand.

"Thanks," you murmur, and the pair of you turn and shine your lights down the tunnel. It stretches on ahead of you, twisting and turning, the path vanishing around a corner.

"When I get my hands on that droid..." Wrecker growls.

"If I don't get to it first," you mutter, and the two of you set off down the tunnel.

It's slow-going, with the two of you constantly checking for traps or pitfalls, and the longer you walk, the more nervous you become. It's too quiet, and the tension between you and Wrecker is thick, like an unspoken word lingering in the air.

You've been trying to think of something to say, but every time you open your mouth, your throat dries up, and the words die on your tongue. Every time, you convince yourself to tell him how you feel, and how you can't deal with his attention, his affection, but each time, your nerves get the better of you, and you lose the courage.

After a while, you turn and glance back at him, and his gaze is locked on you, his head tilted.

"What?" you ask, and the word is sharper than you intended, but the tension is starting to make your skin itch.

"Nothin'," he says. You can hear the smile in his voice, and you sigh and look ahead again, trying not to think about his eyes on you.

"Stop looking at me like that," you grumble.

"Like what?" he asks, his voice low.

"I don't know," you say, your frustration getting the better of you. "Just...just stop."

He falls silent, and you bite the inside of your cheek, the guilt starting to eat at you. It's not his fault, you remind yourself. You're the one who has the problem. He's doing what he always does, and it's driving you insane, and he has no idea, and it's not his fault, it's yours.

"I'm sorry," you murmur.

"No, no, it's okay," he replies. "I'll...I'll try not to stare."

You can hear the disappointment in his voice, and you swallow the lump in your throat. It's not his fault, it's yours.

"Thank you," is all you manage to say.

Silence settles in again, and the two of you continue on, your footsteps echoing off the walls. Wrecker keeps his promise and doesn't look at you, and it only makes the tension worse, the distance between you yawning wider.

It's hard to see anything in the dark, and the tunnel seems endless. The walls are crumbling, and the ceiling is low, and every time the stone shifts, you're afraid the tunnel will collapse on you, and that'll be the end of the Jedi and her trooper, crushed in the tunnels on Akiva. It's not the way you expected to go out, but you suppose it could be worse.

It's not a very Jedi-like thought, and you shake your head, trying to clear your mind. The exhaustion is starting to creep up on you, the long day finally catching up, and you're not sure how much longer you can stay focused.

"You okay, mesh'la?"

Wrecker's voice, soft and low, catches you by surprise, and you glance up to see him watching you, his head cocked. You're not sure what's worse, the fact that he can see right through you, or the fact that he's still calling you those names.

"Fine," you lie, turning away so he can't see your face. "Just tired." 

"We can stop if you want," he offers. "Rest for a bit."

"No," you say, forcing a laugh. "I'll be fine. We need to keep going." 

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay," he replies. "But tell me if you need to stop."

You nod and walk a little faster, leaving him behind. The sound of his footsteps behind you makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and it takes all your self-control not to turn around.

You need the distance.

The longer the two of you are together, the closer you feel to him, and the closer you feel to him, the harder it will be to say goodbye. And if the way he looks at you, the softness in his voice when he speaks, the gentle brush of his hand against yours is anything to go by, Wrecker isn't planning on leaving your side anytime soon.

The thought makes your heart swell, but you push it down, ignoring the longing it brings. You can't get attached. You can't let him get attached. It's not fair to either of you.

Wrecker's hand finds your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. His grip is firm, but not painful, and his fingers gently squeeze, pulling you back a step.

"Cyar'ika, slow down," he murmurs. "Don't go runnin' off."

"Sorry," you mutter, and his thumb runs over your shoulder.

"S'okay. Just be careful."

He doesn't release you, and his grip stays on your shoulder, his thumb running gently over the fabric of your robes. You should pull away, should shrug his hand off, but his touch is comforting, and you can't help but lean into it.

"I will."

You don't move, and his fingers stroke your shoulder, the motion slow and rhythmic.

"What's wrong?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper.

"Nothing."

"Don't give me that," he says. "There's something bothering you. I can tell."

"It's nothing, Wrecker," you say, and this time, your words are firm. His grip on your shoulder tightens, not painfully, just enough to make his presence known. "Everything's fine."

"You can talk to me, y'know," he says, and the gentleness in his voice makes your throat close up. "Whatever it is, I'm here for you."

You stare at him, torn between wanting to scream and wanting to cry. Instead, you take a deep breath and let it out slowly. You can't do this right now. You can't handle his concern, his kindness, his affection.

"I said I'm fine," you say, your voice tight. "Just drop it, Wrecker." 

He stares at you for a moment, then his hand slips from your shoulder and falls to his side. 

"Okay," he says flatly. "I'm sorry."

You want to reach out and grab him, pull him back and apologize, but you can't. You can't even bring yourself to say anything, to explain yourself. You just watch him as he walks away, and the distance between you feels like a chasm. He's only a few steps away, but it might as well be miles.

You stand there, frozen, for what feels like an eternity, before finally you turn and start walking again. The silence is unbearable, but there's nothing you can do. You're trapped, with nowhere to go, and the man you care about most is walking away from you. It's a helpless, hopeless feeling, and you can't shake it. But you have to keep moving, so you do.

At some point, Hunter checks in and lets you know they're close to finding the T-1, but the knowledge does little to ease the pain in your chest. You keep walking, pushing yourself as fast as you can, but it doesn't seem to make a difference. The darkness, the silence, and the weight of your emotions seem to swallow you whole.

Wrecker doesn't seem to be faring much better. He keeps casting glances your way, and his posture is tense, his steps heavy. You know he wants to talk to you, but the words won't come. So you both suffer in silence, each step feeling like a betrayal, and the air is thick with things left unsaid.

When the two of you finally reach the end of the tunnel, the sun has started to set, casting the world outside in shades of orange and gold. The entrance opens into a field, the long grass swaying in the wind, and the sky is a vibrant shade of purple. It's a welcome relief from the stifling confines of the tunnel, and the sight of the sky is enough to make your heart ache.

I never want to be underground again, you think, and you take a deep breath, relishing the taste of the air. Beside you, Wrecker does the same, ripping off his helmet and sucking in a deep lungful of air.

"Fresh air," he groans. "I love fresh air."

"Me too," you murmur.

His head turns, and he smiles. "Glad we're outta there, cyar'ika?"

The affectionate word is enough to ruin the mood, and you glance away. "Yes. Glad."

"Good," he replies. His voice is soft, and when you look up, he's staring at you, his eyes searching your face. You want to look away, to avoid his gaze, but his eyes are like a magnet, drawing you in.

"Wrecker—"

"There you are!"

The sound of Hunter's voice startles you, and you tear your gaze away from Wrecker's to find the rest of the squad running towards you. Tech has his datapad in his hand, and his eyes are bright with triumph.

"I have good news," he says. "The tactical droid is—"

"Dead," Crosshair interrupts, and he tosses something at you. You reach up and catch the object, and the metal is still warm from Crosshair's grip. It's the head of a tactical droid, its expression fixed in a permanent nonplussed grimace, the red light behind its eyes extinguished.

"How...?"

"Hunter ripped it apart," Echo explains.

"I didn't like the way it was talking," Hunter mutters, and his shoulders shift uncomfortably.

"So, that's it, then?" Wrecker asks.

"Yep," Echo says. "Mission's done."

"Then let's go home," you sigh.

The men cheer, and the squad gathers around, jostling each other playfully. You smile at the display, and the weight on your chest starts to lift. You're free, the mission's over, and everything is going to go back to normal. It's a relief, and yet...

Your gaze wanders, and your eyes find Wrecker, and your chest aches. His expression is bright, a grin splitting his face, but his eyes are dark, and his smile doesn't reach them. Your hand tightens around the droid's head, and the guilt is almost unbearable.

It's better this way. You remind yourself. Safer. For both of us.

You can't risk the Council discovering what's been going on. If they ever found out, the repercussions would be disastrous. The thought of the men being punished for something that's your fault makes your stomach turn, and the idea of losing them, of never seeing Wrecker again...it's too much.

So you put on a smile and try not to think about the future, try not to think about what's waiting for you, the distance that will grow between you, the way you'll feel when the time comes to say goodbye.

The six of you pile into the ship, and Tech takes the controls, lifting the ship off the ground and flying into the evening sky. The takeoff is bumpy, and the ship groans under the strain, but eventually, you're in the air.

All you want to do is hide in your bunk, but there's a debrief to be done. Hunter is giving his report, and you're trying to pay attention, but all you can think about is the look on Wrecker's face.

You can't get it out of your head, and it's starting to drive you crazy. He was so happy when you got out of the tunnel, and now he looks like he's in pain, and you're the cause. You hate yourself for it, but the fear is still there, lingering, a constant reminder of the dangers that await you, and it's enough to make you stay away.

"We made it out with a few scrapes, but nothing too bad," Hunter finishes. He turns his head, looking between you and Wrecker. "What about the two of you?"

You open your mouth to answer, but the words die on your tongue, and the silence grows. All eyes are on you, and the longer you wait, the more concerned the men become. You look at Wrecker, hoping he'll say something, but he doesn't. He's staring at the floor, his shoulders tense.

"Uh, we're fine," you reply, and the words feel like glass. "No injuries. We're...we're good."

Wrecker scoffs and pushes himself out of his seat, stalking out of the cockpit. You watch him leave, a knot forming in your throat.

"That's odd," Tech murmurs, his eyes following Wrecker.

"Yeah," Hunter mutters. He shakes his head and sighs, then follows Wrecker, leaving you alone with the others

Crosshair raises an eyebrow and turns to look at you, his sharp eyes scanning your face. "Well?"

"What?"

"You really expect us to believe that?" he asks, his tone mocking. "You're a terrible liar, General."

You glance between him and Echo, and both of them are staring at you, their expressions unreadable. You swallow hard and force a laugh, shaking your head.

"There's nothing to tell."

"If there was nothing to tell, Wrecker wouldn't be sulking," Echo points out.

"And you wouldn't be sitting here looking like you're about to throw up," Crosshair adds.

"I am not," you argue.

"Oh, please," Crosshair snorts. "It's written all over your face."

"It's pretty obvious," Echo says, his voice gentler than Crosshair's. "What's wrong?"

You shake your head and rise to your feet. "Nothing."

"We're not gonna leave this alone," Crosshair calls after you.

"We're worried about you," Echo adds.

"Fine," you say, trying not to sound as defeated as you feel. "Worry. It doesn't matter. We'll be on Coruscant soon, and then I won't be your problem anymore."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Echo asks, his voice sharp, but you ignore him and keep walking. You can hear them arguing, their voices rising, and the words they're throwing at each other make your stomach churn. You keep your head down and keep walking, but before you can reach the bunks, you see Hunter and Wrecker. They're standing in the middle of the hallway, their backs to you, and Hunter's hand is on Wrecker's shoulder.

"—just give her some space," Hunter is saying.

"But she's—"

"She's fine," Hunter cuts in. "She just needs some time to herself. You've been a little clingy, and she needs a break."

Wrecker's shoulders stiffen, and the hurt in his voice is palpable. "Is that what she told you?"

"Well, no," Hunter says slowly. "But—"

"Then how do you know?" Wrecker demands, pulling away. "How do you know that's what she wants? How do you know she doesn't..." He trails off, his voice thick, and he turns, and his eyes land on you. The two of you stare at each other, the space between you charged with emotion, and when he speaks again, his words are quiet, and heartbreaking. "...want me?"

"She's a Jedi," Hunter says softly. "They don't...feel those kinds of things."

Wrecker stares at you, his expression open, the longing on his face so plain, so obvious, that your knees feel weak. You can't take it anymore. You turn away, ducking into the refresher and locking the door behind you

The room is silent, the air still. There's no sound but the pounding of your heart, the blood roaring in your ears. You lean against the door and slide to the floor, wrapping your arms around your knees.

You know what you have to do, but the idea is terrifying, the thought of saying goodbye to Wrecker too painful to bear. But he's hurting, and it's because of you. You can't put him through that, not any longer. He deserves better. He deserves someone who can be with him, can give him the affection he deserves, not a cowardly Jedi who can't handle the consequences of her actions.

The realization hurts more than you thought it would, but there's nothing you can do. You've known all along that this would have to end someday, and that someday has come.

The only thing you can do is let him go.

The next day passes in a blur, and the tension is thick in the air. Wrecker doesn't say a word, doesn't look at you, doesn't acknowledge your presence, and you're grateful for it. You can't bring yourself to look at him, and the others are quick to pick up on the change. They cast furtive glances at each other, their concern growing, and their efforts to cheer you up only make the situation worse. You'd much rather they focus their attentions on Wrecker, so you avoid all of them as best you can. 

It's easier this way. Safer. Less painful. 

And maybe, if you keep telling yourself that, you'll start to believe it.

Once you land on Kashyyyk to refuel, the five of them disappear into the village, leaving you alone to meditate. It's the one thing that can help you clear your mind, and you welcome the chance to relax.

The ship is silent, the hum of the engine the only noise, and the quiet helps soothe the ache in your chest. You close your eyes and settle onto the floor, clearing your mind and reaching out with the Force.

When you were a youngling, you were told that the Force was your ally, and you believed it. Now, you know better. The Force doesn't take sides. It simply is. It exists in everything, every living thing, and sometimes, when you meditate, you can feel it. It's a gentle brush against your senses, like a soft caress, and you let yourself sink into the feeling, allowing it to envelop you, and for a moment, everything seems to fade away.

That's why, when you hear the sound of someone approaching, you're startled, and your eyes fly open. You frown, remembering Hunter saying he'd comm you when the others were headed back. It's more than likely Tech sneaking away from the group to tinker with the ship, and so you stand, turning towards the sound.

What you see instead, however, makes your blood run cold. 

Wrecker is standing at the top of the ramp, his form silhouetted by the light outside, his eyes burning into you. You're frozen in place, unable to move, unable to think. All you can do is stare at him, trying to make sense of the expression on his face, but all you can see is anger, and your heart sinks.

"What's going on?" he asks. His voice is low, but there's an edge to it, and his shoulders are stiff.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm talking about the way you've been acting," he says, stepping further into the ship. "Ever since we left Akiva, you've been avoiding me. Why?"

"I haven't been avoiding you," you lie, turning away from him.

"Like kriff, you haven't!" he exclaims, and you flinch, the anger in his voice catching you off guard. "I've tried to talk to you, and you walk away! You won't even look at me!"

"That's not true," you argue. "I'm always—"

"Yeah, it is," he snaps. "You think I don't notice, but I do. You're always running away, avoiding me. Why? Just tell me why. Talk to me. Please."

"Wrecker..."

"Don't say my name like that," he pleads, his voice cracking. "Don't push me away. Please, cyar'ika, I need to know what's going on."

The endearment sends a jolt through your system, and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying not to cry. You've spent the past twenty-four hours doing nothing but thinking about this, trying to steel yourself for what's to come, and yet here he is, begging for answers, and you're not ready. You can't bring yourself to say the words, can't bring yourself to push him away, but if you don't, it will only get harder.

"Please," he whispers. "What did I do? How did I hurt you?"

You can't look at him, but you can't ignore him, either. The last thing you want is for him to think any of this is his fault, and so you force yourself to turn, your eyes meeting his, and your resolve breaks.

"You didn't," you murmur. "It's not your fault, I promise."

"Then tell me what's wrong," he pleads, and his voice is soft, and the desperation in it is enough to break your heart. "Tell me what I can do to fix this."

Wrecker reaches out and takes a step towards you, his hand outstretched, but the gesture is hesitant, almost as if he's afraid to touch you. When you don't move away, he steps closer, his fingers brushing the hem of your sleeve. His gaze is intense, his eyes searching yours, and the ache in his voice is enough to make you want to scream.

"I'm not good at this," he admits. "This...talking stuff. I never know what to say, and I'm sorry. If I made you uncomfortable, or did somethin' wrong, I'm sorry."

"Wrecker..."

"I just want to make things right," he whispers, and his fingers curl around your sleeve. "Just tell me how, and I'll do it. I'll fix it."

He's so earnest, so sincere, and the guilt is crushing. You can't lie to him, not anymore. Not when he's looking at you like this.

"It's not that simple," you say, and the words feel like lead in your mouth.

"Why not?" he asks, his voice raw.

"Because," you say, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. "Because I can't do this anymore, Wrecker. I can't..." You trail off, the words dying on your tongue. You can't bring yourself to say them, can't bring yourself to end things like this. But it's too late. He knows.

He drops his hand, and the look of pain on his face is almost enough to break your heart.

"Do what?" he asks, his voice shaking.

"This," you say, gesturing between the two of you. "Whatever this is. I can't keep pretending that I don't know what you mean when you call me those names. I can't keep acting like it's nothing, because it's not." 

Wrecker stumbles back a step, eyes wide.

"You knew?" he asks, and his voice is barely audible. "This whole time...?"

"Of course I knew," you say, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice. "You think I could have missed it?" You try to laugh, but it comes out as a choked sob. "You're not exactly subtle, Wrecker."

"Oh," he says, and the single word holds a world of hurt. He turns away from you, his hands curling into fists at his sides, and the tension in the air is palpable. A heavy silence settles in, and when he speaks again, his voice is a hoarse whisper.

"Why didn't you say something?" he asks. "Why didn't you tell me to stop?"

"I couldn't," you say, swallowing the lump in your throat. "I...I liked it too much."

"What?" Wrecker turns, his head snapping around to face you, and his expression is torn between hope and horror.

"You heard me," you say, fighting to keep your voice steady. You turn away, but his hand finds your chin, gently tilting your face back to his. The heat of his palm burns into your skin, his touch so gentle, and your heart leaps into your throat.

"Then why are you doing this?" he asks, and the words are barely audible. "If you like it, why are you trying to push me away?"

You close your eyes, trying to gather your thoughts. It's a good question, and one you're not sure you can answer.

"Because," you start, and then trail off. When you open your eyes, his face is inches from yours, and the pain in his eyes is overwhelming. "Because I'm not meant for this. For us." You motion between the two of you. "I have a duty. A responsibility. I can't...I can't give you what you want. What you deserve."

"But I don't want anyone else,” Wrecker says softly, his thumb brushing your cheek. "I just want you."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you close your eyes, trying not to cry. You can feel the warmth of his body, the weight of his hand, the scent of him surrounding you. You want to pull away, to run and hide, but the way his hands cradle your face, the gentleness in his touch, makes it impossible.

"You don't mean that," you whisper, the words like poison. "You can't. I'm a Jedi. You know what that means. You know what my life is. I can't give you anything, Wrecker. I can't even be there for you. I can't..."

"Stop," he whispers. 

His hands drop, moving to your shoulders, and he turns you, pulling you closer. You let him, and his arms wrap around you, his forehead resting against yours. The touch is warm and gentle, and his eyes are soft, full of pain and love. 

He's never been anything but gentle with you, even when he didn't have to be. Even when the mission demanded he take risks, put his life on the line, he was always careful with you. Always protective. Always gentle. And now, here, when the mission is over, the danger gone, he's still treating you like something precious, something to be treasured.

It's too much.

"Don't say that," he murmurs, his voice low and rough. "You don't get to tell me how I feel. You can't decide for me, cyar'ika. I'm not gonna change my mind. I'm not gonna stop caring about you. So just...just stop. Okay?"

Your hands find his, curling around his wrists. His pulse is pounding under your fingertips, and his chest is rising and falling with each breath, the beat of his heart matching the rhythm of yours. It would be so easy, so tempting, to let yourself give in. To give him the answer he wants. To give him the one thing you've wanted to give him for so long.

But you can't. You can't let him sacrifice his future, his happiness, for you. It's too much. Too selfish.

"Wrecker, please," you say, squeezing his wrists. "Don't make this harder than it has to be."

"Then don't do this," he whispers. "Don't walk away from me. Please." His voice breaks, and his fingers dig into your shoulders. "Just...just give me a chance."

You want to scream. You want to cry. You want to hit him, to shove him away, but you can't. All you can do is stare up at him, his face inches from yours, his eyes begging. It would be so easy, and yet, impossibly difficult. If you do this, if you give in, it's not just your life on the line, but his. If you give him what he wants, if you allow him to care for you, it will only lead to more heartbreak. More pain.

And yet...

You can't bring yourself to pull away, can't bring yourself to deny him. And, if you're honest with yourself, you don't want to. You've wanted this for so long, wanted him, and now that the moment has finally come, the opportunity has presented itself, you can't let it go.

"I can't," you whisper, your voice shaking.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm scared," you confess. You reach out and cup his cheek, running your thumb over the scarred tissue beneath his eye, and his expression softens. "I'm not supposed to feel like this. I'm not supposed to...to love you." The words come out choked, and the tears in your eyes blur your vision. "It's wrong. It's forbidden. It's...it's..."

"It's what?" he asks, his voice rough with emotion. "It's amazing? It's the best feeling in the galaxy?"

"Yes," you whisper, and the tears spill over. "But I can't do this. I can't...I can't let you sacrifice yourself for me."

"You think that's what I'm doing?" Wrecker asks. His hand slips from your shoulder, his fingers stroking your cheek, catching a tear as it falls. "Cyar'ika, I'd sacrifice myself for you a hundred times over. You think I care about what they'd say? They can go kriff themselves. I'd fight every single member of the Council for you, if I had to. But I don't need to. 'Cause they can't tell me what to do, and neither can you."

"You say that now," you mutter. "But—"

"I'll say it every day," he cuts in. "Every single day until you believe me. I don't care about them. I don't care about the rules. I just want you."

"Wrecker, stop," you whisper, but he shakes his head, his hands cupping your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks.

"I know you're scared. I know you're worried about what's going to happen. But we don't have to think about that. We can just be together. Just us. Nobody has to know. We can figure this out. Together. But you gotta let me in."

You stare at him, stunned by the strength and certainty in his words. He's right. You are scared. You're terrified. And not just of what the Council will do, or what the consequences might be. 

You're afraid of him, of the power he holds over you, the way you feel about him. But standing here, with his hands on your face, his eyes searching yours, it's enough to make you reconsider. Enough to make you question everything. And so you swallow your fears, and you say the words.

"I love you, Wrecker."

His lips part, and his eyes widen, and the sound that comes out of his mouth is halfway between a laugh and a sob.

"You mean that?" he asks, his voice tight with emotion.

"Yes," you say, and the word is like a weight lifting off your shoulders. "I do. I love you."

His arms slip around your waist, and he pulls you into him, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm on your face. He doesn't say anything, just stares down at you, his gaze burning, and the silence stretches on, charged with anticipation. And then, finally, he speaks.

"I love you too, cyar'ika," he says, his voice trembling. "More than you know."

Your heart feels like it's going to burst. You pull him close, burying your face in his chest, and his arms wrap around you, holding you tight. It's an overwhelming feeling, this affection, this love, but you can't deny it. Not anymore. And as you stand there, his body wrapped around yours, his hands running through your hair, you know that he's right.

"Don't let go," you whisper, your voice muffled by his armor. "Please, don't ever let me go."

"I won't," he says, his voice a rumble in his chest. "I got you, an'edee. Always."

The words send a jolt of warmth through your body, and you melt into him, allowing yourself to be swept away by the feeling. It's like coming home, the warmth and comfort washing over you, and the tension melts away, leaving only relief in its wake. 

You're not sure how long you stay there, wrapped up in each other, but when he finally pulls away, you're stunned by the look in his eyes. No one has ever looked at you like that. No one has ever seen you like he does.

"Better?" he asks, his voice gentle.

"Yes," you say, smiling up at him. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me," he says. "You don't gotta thank me. Just keep lookin' at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you love me," he murmurs.

"Oh," you reply, blushing. "Well, then, I suppose I should do my best. It wouldn't do for me to fail in that regard."

He chuckles, his hands sliding up your sides. "No, it wouldn't."

You shiver at his touch, the heat of his hands sinking into your skin. His palms are rough and calloused, and his fingers are gentle, tracing the curve of your waist. Your eyes meet, and his smile is so wide, so warm, that you can't help but return it.

"So," he says, his hands drifting lower. "Where does this leave us?"

"Us?"

"Yeah. You know, our relationship," he says. "Are we...together? Or do I still gotta keep pretendin' that you're just a friend?"

You sigh, a smile tugging at your lips. "Together, Wrecker. We're together."

"Good," he grins, his eyes bright. "'Cause I wasn't sure how much longer I could take it. Having you around, knowing how I felt, not being able to do anything about it."

"That's why I was avoiding you," you admit. "I knew if I had to spend much more time with you, I was going to break. I was already having trouble controlling my feelings. If we'd had another mission, I don't think I would have made it. I was so close to telling you how I felt."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Kriff, cyar'ika," he groans, his grip on your waist tightening. "I wish you would've said something sooner. Woulda made things a lot easier."

"I'm sorry," you murmur.

"Don't apologize," he says, his voice husky. "You're worth the wait."

Your breath catches in your throat, and his eyes flick to yours, and his grin turns mischievous.

"What is it, mesh'la?" he asks, his fingers digging into your hips. "Tell me."

"I, um..." You clear your throat, trying to ignore the way his voice makes your insides turn to mush. "It's just that...when you call me those names, it, uh, does things to me."

"Good things?" he asks, leaning in.

"Yes."

"You want me to keep saying them, then?"

"Yes."

"Well, I can do that," he murmurs. His breath is warm on your skin, his voice low and teasing. "And I can do a lot more, too. If you want me to."

You stare up at him, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, trying not to let your desire show on your face. You've never done anything like this, never even considered doing something like this. And yet, the idea of him touching you, kissing you, fills you with anticipation.

"I'd like that," you manage, your voice hoarse.

"You sure?"

"Yes."

He nods, and he leans down, his lips ghosting over yours. His eyes search your face, and he waits, and when you nod, he presses his lips to yours.

It's a slow, soft kiss, the barest brush of skin on skin. But the contact sends a thrill through your body, and you can't help but press closer, wanting more. Your hands move to the back of his neck, pushing yourself onto the tips of your toes, and he obliges, pulling you in.

His lips are warm, his tongue slick and hot as it traces the seam of your mouth. You open for him, letting him deepen the kiss, and his palm slides up your back, cradling your head. His thumb strokes your cheek, and the gentleness of the gesture sends a rush of warmth through your veins.

When the two of you finally break apart, your lungs are aching, and his breath is ragged. He leans his forehead against yours, his fingers tracing lazy circles on the back of your neck.

"Kriff, cyar'ika," he whispers, and the name sends a thrill through you. You can hear the longing, the need, in his voice, and it's enough to make your knees weak. "Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this?"

"Tell me," you say, your voice shaking.

"Too long," he murmurs. "Far too long."

You lean back, looking up at him. The adoration in his eyes takes your breath away, and you pull him down, kissing him again. This time, the kiss is deeper, more intense, and you can't hold back a moan as his tongue slips past your lips.

The noise seems to ignite something in him, because the next thing you know, his arms are around you, lifting you up with ease. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in, and his hands roam over your back, sliding down to cup your ass. He breaks the kiss, his lips moving to your neck, and the heat of his mouth, the scrape of his teeth, makes you gasp.

Wrecker sets you down on the edge of your bunk, and the height difference is suddenly very apparent. You're not used to being on eye level with him, but now, with your legs spread, his body between them, it's impossible not to notice. His gaze rakes over you, taking in every detail, and the hunger in his eyes sends a jolt of excitement through your body.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw. He sounds awed, like he can't believe his luck, and the compliment makes your heart flutter. "So kriffing beautiful, cyar'ika." 

You lean into his touch, and his fingers brush against your lips, the callouses of his hands rough against your skin. You kiss his fingertips, and the heat in his gaze makes you blush.

"Not as beautiful as you," you murmur. He shakes his head with a wide grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"No one's as beautiful as you," Wrecker says, his hand finding yours. His fingers lace with yours, and he raises your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of your knuckles. His touch is gentle, and the tenderness of the gesture makes your heart clench. "I could look at you forever. Never get tired of it."

The heat on your cheeks is unbearable, and you're not sure how to respond. Words can't capture the emotions coursing through you, and so you lean in, your lips meeting his in a searing kiss. He groans against your mouth, his hand finding the small of your back and pulling you flush against him.

You wrap your legs around him, the need to be closer, to feel his body pressed against yours, overwhelming. He seems to understand, his fingers tangling in your hair, his teeth nipping at your lip.

"I'm gonna take such good care of you, cyar'ika," he promises, his voice rough with emotion. "Promise."

"You already have," you whisper. "Just having you here is more than I deserve."

"Don't talk like that," he mutters. His hand slides up, cupping the back of your head, and he kisses the corner of your mouth. He tilts your face up to meet his, and the intensity of his gaze is almost overwhelming. "I've never wanted anyone the way I want you. I'm not gonna give that up. You're mine, and I'm not lettin' go."

The words are a jolt to your system, the possessiveness of his tone making you tremble. He's always been protective of you, but this is different. This is more than just a desire to keep you safe. This is something else entirely. You can't find the words to respond, and so you nod, swallowing the lump in your throat and praying the tears in your eyes don't spill over.

"Wrecker," you whisper. "I..."

"I love you," he murmurs, his nose brushing against yours. "So much."

The words are a balm on your aching heart, and the tears finally fall. Wrecker leans in and kisses them away, his lips soft and gentle against your cheeks. The tenderness, the closeness, it's too much to bear, and the emotions welling up inside you are overwhelming. You wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his chest, and he holds you tight, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

"I got you," he whispers. "It's okay. You're okay."

"I'm sorry," you murmur. "I don't know why I'm crying."

"I do," he replies. He cups your chin, tilting your face up to meet his. His eyes are soft, and his lips curl into a gentle smile. "You've been through a lot, and you're tired. You're allowed to cry."

You nod, wiping the tears from your face. He's right. The past few days have been exhausting, emotionally and physically. Between the mission, the tension between the two of you, the anxiety and uncertainty, it's a miracle you're not falling apart.

"Hey," he murmurs. "Stop thinking so hard. It's okay."

"I'm not supposed to let my emotions get the best of me," you murmur.

"That's some banthashit, an'edee," he says, and his voice is teasing, but there's a hint of steel in it. "You're human. You're allowed to have emotions."

"I suppose," you reply, unable to keep the smile off your face.

"Good," he says, and his thumb strokes your cheek. "We'll make this work. We'll find a way."

"Wrecker," you sigh.

"Shh," he cuts in. "None of that. We're together, right?"

"Right."

"Then trust me. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you," he promises. "I'll keep you safe."

"I know," you whisper, closing your eyes.

"We'll figure it out," Wrecker says. "It might be hard, but we'll find a way. We always do."

He leans in and kisses you again, his lips soft and warm. You kiss him back, allowing yourself to give in, to let go of the fear and worry, to let yourself be swept away by the feeling. He's right. It will be difficult, but it's worth it.

This is where you belong, in his arms, and no matter what the future holds, no matter what the Order says, no matter the consequences, you know you'll always have him. And that's more than you could have ever hoped for.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland

@marchingviolist @deerspringdreams @chaicilatte @somewhere-on-kamino @silly-starfish

@floofyroro @veralii @chubbyhedgehog @meshlajetii @heaven1207

@808tsuika @aanncummings @lugiastark @maniacalbooper @sensitive_shark

@kashasenpai @kkdrawsdecently @isaidonyourknees

[olderthannetfic]

Quote from a post: "the things created within fandom aren’t real - an individual fic can’t cause actual, material harm to a reader, even if it contains tropes that would be harmful or distressing if they happened in that reader’s real life; an author’s use of certain tropes or interest in certain characters is not indicative of their actual morals and values in real life; thought crimes are not real crimes - but fanfiction is produced by human beings who are themselves products of the societies and communities in which we all live, and these societies and communities all have flaws and failings.

which is to say, those of us who prefer to read male friendships as romantic do need to be aware that, no matter how enlightened on gender and its foibles we think ourselves to be, we are nonetheless influenced as modern humans by a modern tendency to discourage platonic physical and emotional closeness between men - especially straight men - on the grounds that two men having this sort of relationship is inherently queer and, in being queer, implicitly sexual [an understanding of queerness which is another powerful societal influence on our thought, even if we know we don’t agree with it.]"

Okay this is from a big post from a big fandom account here please don't speculate who it is this is not about them specifically and has nothing to do with them i genuinely respect this poster and they are nothing but a supportive space and don't have any anti-nonsense. But I wanna talk about this point that they are making "the society is queering straight friendships" which is something also the anti-fujoshi crowd is saying and honestly I can't agree with that point.

I don't think its us the people who make fandom are queering the relationships between two straight men but the patriarchal system we live under and straight men themselves are doing it to themselves. They can't show love and affection to each other lest other dudes will call them gay not because there are secret fujoshis around that sexualize them. They can be vulnerable period lest everyone calls them whiney like women. I feel like (and most of the things I say here are vibes, not facts) men having close friendships with other men are green flags, and most women are excited to see men who have exact the strong relationship that are portrayed in media.

I'm confused by this talking point to be honest. I also understand that by saying everything I said above I sort of said the same thing as the original poster. In a sense that society is the problem here and we live in a society as we know, but... idk I feel like what they say is "we live in a society where everyone by default is sexualizing male friendships" which sounds like the standard anti-fujoshi talking point to me.

And regarding the point of romantic relationships being prioritized over platonic— I feel like is a complete bullshit to be honest.

Romantic relationships are prioritized over platonic ones across the board. Straight couples leave their straight friends behind when they get further into relationship too! I don't understand this impulse to constantly talk about romantic vs platonic thing when its about queer ships, and maybe there is somewhere straight ship discourse about romantic vs plantonic but its not as big as with mlm or wlw ships.

And honestly even with this take I feel like romantic relationships are also not prioritized but rather are more encouraged. And there is difference between encouraging and actually prioritizing I think.

(I want to add here that I'm not aroace so maybe its a blindspot and from that identitys point of view the dynamics might be different)

In reality I think both are equally hard to obtain and maintain. I always felt like the fandom being so shipping focused was not about people being hellbent on romance but just the fact that good love stories are few and far between both in fiction and IRL and we can't help but try to make something at least remotely good, or interesting or satisfying.

Again, my main problems is: 1) I don't agree that romantic relationships are prioritized to that high degree over the friendships like everyone claims. 2) I don't think that every single person is actually a secret fujoshi waiting to make any straight male friendship gay. 3) Fandoms are romantic ship centric because people just want more narratively satisfying romantic stories that are underrepresented in media (or they don't get to experience it IRL) rather than they are vehemently against platonic ships.

I don't know this hopefully came out coherent.

--

The person who wrote that sounds like a pretentious twatwaffle, and I am so sick of seeing otherwise reasonable people spout that crap. That's been true since the 90s and probably before.

The reality is that Western culture enshrines male friendship as the highest form of affection possible. This goes back to the Classical world. And, yes, they were probably fucking too back then, but the thing that all of the media is about is friendship.

The entire backbone of Western culture is built on the idea that men are spiritually, biologically, inherently more capable than women of this highest form of relationship. Romance is the big thing for women because we're not eligible for The Pure And Holy Friendship Between Two Men.

The epidemic of male loneliness is real, but we haven't gotten any less "Bros before hos". Fandom and m/m shipping behavior are irrelevant to this.

--

Furthermore, fandom has plenty of people who don't focus on shipping.

AO3 was built by slashers, so ship type is a top-level category, and the site obviously signals that it's about shipping and particularly non heterosexual shipping since you can filter out het.

Past sites often had more metadata that wasn't around ships (e.g. FFN's genres that work like bookstore genres) and almost never let you get rid of het. You might have been able to filter in The Gay, but straight stuff was literally unmarked.

~We do need to be aware of~

Bite me.

This naggy phrase is everywhere, and nothing good comes of it.

The only thing we need to be aware of is that Blorbo is great and s/he should be mashed together with Other Blorbo. If that's in gen adventures, you do you.

[ksfoxwald]

I'm still working out what it means to me to be aromantic

bc on one hand no one can actually define what romance is

(every time someone starts one of those discussions it's like "well x is romantic for me but y isn't" and then someone else goes "y is sometimes romantic for me but x isn't" and it goes nowhere.)

and like. I don't think I'm ace. and I'm a social mammal who wants companionship. so sometimes I go on the dating apps.

but then when I talk to someone in a possible courtship situation I start to get this skin-crawling dread and nausea and I just Can't Do It.

I love romance books! I'm happy for my friends in relationships! I want to be close to people!

but even though I can't actually define where the line around romance is, I know I'm there when I start to feel the repulsion.

do people get that romance repulsion is a real thing. like i know that it is not a term that many people have heard but the kind of responses i see from people when i talk ab my feelings on romance sometimes… do people understand that it’s like. sometimes a real feeling of nausea that you can’t control. it seems to click for everyone that someone might be innately repulsed by the idea of sex or that someone might have a negative response to seeing romantic stuff because they want it really bad and it upsets them to see other people have it but the second an aromantic person has a negative response to romance that is not emotionally invested suddenly they are a supervillain only interested in kicking people’s puppies and personally attacking anyone who’s ever been in love

[i-am-baechu]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Title: Clumsy  

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Paring: Teacher! Seokjin x Teacher! Reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Rating: Explicit (18+)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Summary: ‘Clumsy 'cause I'm fallin' in love’. 

Park Y/N has always been clumsy and it gets worse when she has a crush. The first time meeting Kim Seokjin wasn’t the best and her world came crashing down when she saw him laughing to himself after her spill. To make things even worse, everyone knows that she likes him except for him. Why can’t she win in relationships? 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Genre: Fluff, romance, two idiots in love, comedy, angst, and smut

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Playlist: Clumsy - Fergie 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Authors note: This isn’t a serious story. It’s very lighthearted and fun : ). I was also thinking about making drabbles for this story! Let me know if you would like because I have some ideas. 

“Y/N, you should be wrapped up in bubble wrap.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair as she stared up at the ceiling, “You're not helping me.” 

Her best friend, Kim Mingyu, let out a laugh and shrugged his shoulders, “I never said I was going to help you.” 

Y/N let out a groan and sat back up in her chair, “It wasn’t that embarrassing...” 

Mingyu tossed a chip into his mouth as he raised his eyebrow, “You knocked down a whole shelf in his classroom and then you broke his door when you tried to flee the scene. I think that's pretty embarrassing.” 

She crumbled up a piece of paper and tossed it at Mingyu’s head as she pouted, “Your so fucking annoying.”

“You just need confidence to be in the same room as him.” 

“It’s not that easy...” 

Park Y/N is clumsy, there’s no getting around that. From the moment she could walk, her parents knew she would cause heart attacks. Not from being pretty but from worrying them to the point their heart gives out. There were times when she wished she was like her older sister, Park Umiko and maybe then Kim Seokjin could fall in love with her. Seokjin would fall in love with someone who was a world-class ballerina and not a clumsy teacher. Umiko was elegant and she had this aura that brought people in. Umiko never tripped or broke something when she saw her crush, if anything they were tripping to get to her first. 

Seokjin has been her crush for the past two years and it’s embarrassing. For starters, she’s twenty-six. Who has crushes when you're almost thirty? The second reason is, everyone knows she likes him. When she says everyone, she means everyone. All the students talk about it in the hallways and some even have bets when the teacher is going to confess. If she could, she would die but she doesn’t have good health insurance so...staying alive it is. 

Mingyu frowned at her and stood up from the desk he was sitting at. He walked towards her and placed a hand on her shoulder, “Y/N, you want to get dinner? My treat so you can forget this day.” 

Y/N looked up at him and nodded his head, “Can we get ramen with those special eggs?”

“Yes and yes you can get a beer.” 

Y/N stood up as fast as she could and grabbed her bag, “Make it two beers.” 

Mingyu rolled his eyes and nodded his head, “Whatever you want.” 

Y/N nodded her head at this, “Let me drink to forget.”

“You're such a drama queen.” 

They walked out of the classroom and she glared at Mingyu, “No, I’m not.” 

Y/N walked off but Mingyu rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall, “Forgetting something?”

Y/N stopped halfway in the hall and let out a groan. She walked back and pointed at Mingyu, “Shut up.” She closed her door and locked it up with a pout. This was the fourth time this week that she forgot to lock up her classroom. It’s Tuesday. She turned towards Mingyu with a glare, “I told you to shut up.” 

“I didn’t even say anything.”

“Your face says enough.” 

They walked out of the school and went to the teacher parking lot. Along the way, Mingyu was making fun of her and the events that happened that day. She unlocked her car but stopped when she saw Seokjin getting into his car. The way he got into his car and still looked good needed to be studied. She didn’t understand how someone could be so handsome and cute at the same time. She shook her head and started walking but froze when she heard her name. 

She slowly turned around and saw Seokjin giving her a soft smile from his window, “Have a good night! See you in the morning!” 

She gave him a small wave and blinked her eyes, “Y-Yeah, se-see you in the morning.” 

She turned around to walk to her car but tripped on her shoelaces causing her to fall face first. Mingyu stood in the back and watched all this with an amused look. He sighed and shook his head. He went towards Y/N and helped her up, “So about the bubble wrap.”

“Mingyu, I will run you over with my car.” 

“If you can walk to your car without tripping then I’ll be scared.” 

She bit her lip and looked past Mingyu’s shoulder to see that Seokjin was already gone. She let out a small breath and placed her hand on top of her chest, “Thank god he didn’t see that.”

Mingyu patted the top of her head, “Let’s get you those beers to erase the embarrassment.” 

She smacked his hand away and crossed her arms over her chest, “Is ​​Seungcheol going to be there?”

Mingyu raised his eyebrow as he opened the car door for her, “Yeahhh....why?”

“I’m going to tell him that you were messing with me.”

“O-Oi!” 

The crush on Kim Seokjin happened so fast that it made scientists confused. Y/N had crushes and past relationships but she never felt this way towards someone. Every time she saw Seokjin smile the world would stop and it was just them. It was the story that parents would read to their children for bedtime (ignoring the fact that she wasn’t with him but you get the point). 

Two years of her constantly running away from him was now causing problems in her personal life. Her mother (bless her heart), was worried for her. So like any worried mother, you set up blind dates with your friend's son. Of course, Y/N entertained her mother by going on these dates but Y/N would always find a way to leave early (she’s really good at lying). “My friend is having an emergency, I need to check up on her. It was nice meeting you though.” “My roommate had to take my dog to the vet because something happened. I have to go.” (She didn’t have a roommate nor a dog). 

Her ex-boyfriend and close friend, Lim Jaebeom, has told her so many times to open her world up but she couldn’t. She fell for Seokjin hard and she was too stubborn to change her mind. All the guys that her mother set her up with, they weren’t bad but they weren’t Seokjin. It wasn’t the math teacher who could explain algebra to anyone or the teacher who sometimes took over the PE class. It wasn’t Seokjin and that’s what made them bad. The day she met Kim Seokjin was the day that was her downfall. 

Y/N sat in the meeting room typing away on her laptop for her next class. She heard the chair next to her and looked away from the screen to see, Jung Hoseok giving her a soft smile. Hoseok was her work friend and among all the teachers, she liked him the best. He was the dance teacher but on top of that, he was the earth science teacher. Two subjects that Y/N will never understand. 

“Did you hear?”

Y/N tilted her head at Hoseok with a confused look, “Noo....?”

“Since Mr. Lee retired, we’re getting a new math teacher. It’s their first day today.”

“Oh? It’s already a month into the new school year, isn’t it kind of late?”

Hoseok shrugged his shoulders and leaned back in the chair, “Yeah but Namjoon said he needed a teacher fast and he was the best teacher he interviewed.” 

“I hope he isn’t like Mr. Lee.” 

Hoseok let out a small laugh, “It was fun hearing his conspiracies about the world.”

Y/N shook her head at this and looked back at her laptop, “He was telling the students that the moon landing never happened and how Europe is made up.”

“To be fair, England isn’t real.”   

Y/N rolled her eyes and let out a small laugh, “Hoseok, I can’t with you.” 

“It’s true.”

Y/N finished the last sentence and smiled to herself, “All done. Do you want some coffee? I’m gonna grab some.”

Hoseok nodded his head, “Pleaseee~.”

The principal always made sure the staff was taken care of with goodies from his sister’s bakery. This time Namjoon brought coffee and strawberry shortcake. She poured the coffee and when she turned around she saw the new teacher walk in. He was in a simple white t-shirt and glasses and she glanced down at his plump lips. He was handsome. So handsome that it made her question. Why the hell is he a teacher? He should be an actor or a K-pop idol. She turned back around and felt her face get hot. She was going to introduce herself and make it known that she was cool. He looked like he liked cool girls. 

She turned around but didn’t notice her foot was on top of the tablecloth. She fell on the floor with the cake landing on her head. She rubbed her ankle and opened her eyes to see Seokjin laughing with the other math teacher, Suan Choi. She felt her whole body get hot and she went to get up but slipped on the frosting making her fall back down. Hoseok quickly made his way to her and gave her a concerned look, “Are you okay?” 

No, she was not okay nor will she ever be okay, “I-I’m okay.”

Hoseok helped her up and gave her his signature smile, “I’ll give you a 10/10 for that landing.” 

She took some frosting and put it on his face, “Shut up.” 

“Y/N, did you hear me?”

She turned her head to see Mingyu snapping his fingers in her face. She grabbed his wrist and twisted it, “I’m not a dog.”

“H-Hey, I’m sorry.”

She let go of his wrist and leaned back on his couch, “What did you say?” 

He rubbed his wrist and pouted, “You’re mean. I asked if you were ready to go on that date tomorrow?” 

She scoffed at this and took a sip of her beer, “No, my mom said this one is a good one.” 

He raised his eyebrow and rubbed her shoulder gently, “You should tell her that you don’t want this.” 

“I can’t say no to her. I hate seeing her sad.” 

Mingyu frowned, “What about you being sad?”

“I’m not sad...I get free food.”  

Choi ​​Seungcheol walked in and glanced at Y/n with a worried look. He dried his hair off with his towel and sat next to her, “Should you be drinking more? You have work tomorrow. You had two beers at the restaurant.” 

She pouted at ​​Seungcheol and shook her head, “This is my last one and I'll go to bed.” 

​​Seungcheol sighed and shook his head, “Y/N, you need to take better care of yourself.”

“It’s not my fault my embarrassment is making me drink.” 

Mingyu let out a small laugh and shook his head, “That’s not how it works.” 

​​Seungcheol glared at Mingyu (who immediately stopped laughing) and gave Y/N a gentle smile, “It’s going to be okay. Don’t think too much of it.” 

Y/N placed her beer on the coffee table and nodded her head, “I-I just don’t know what to do Cheoooolll!” She wrapped her arms around his waist and he sighed. He gently rubbed her back as she cried into his chest, “It’s okay, Y/N. Let’s get you in bed.”

Mingyu stood up and grabbed her slippers, “You can sleep in my bed.” 

Y/N looked at Mingyu and she gave him a tearful smile, “Really? I-I feel bad taking your bed.” 

“I can share a bed with ​​Seungcheol. It’s okay.”

​​Seungcheol picked Y/N up with ease and nodded his head, “Just get some sleep. I’ll have water and pills ready for you in the morning.”

“You guys are my best friends. I love you guys so much.”

“Yes, we know.” 

They walked into the hallway and ​​Seungcheol placed Y/N on the bed. He put the blanket on top of her and smiled at her, “Hopefully tomorrow is a better day, Y/N.”

She glanced at ​​Seungcheol and nodded her head, “I-to think that.” 

​​Seungcheol sighed and got up from the bed. He glanced at Mingyu, “We need to help her with this problem. She can’t keep drinking her embarrassment away.” 

“I know but I don’t know what more we can do.” 

“We’ll figure it out. Let’s go to bed.” 

The next morning, Y/N woke up to her alarm blasting in her ear. She frowned and glanced at the time. She locked her phone and looked up at the ceiling, Another day to embarrass myself. She groaned when the second alarm started and she slowly sat up, “I’m up.” 

She slipped her feet into her slippers and dragged herself into the living room. Walking into the living room, she saw Mingyu cooking breakfast and ​​Seungcheol setting the table, “Good morning...”

​​Seungcheol turned towards her and smiled, “Your water is on the table with your pills.” 

“Thank you...sorry for this happening again.”

​​Seungcheol shook his head and pulled the chair for her, “I’m just happy you went to sleep and were safe. Now sit.” 

The morning went on like normal and ​​Seungcheol drove Y/N to work this time. He was talking to her about Jaebeom and how he was planning on visiting soon. Y/N was surprised to hear this and looked at ​​Seungcheol, “He didn’t tell me he was coming...”

“He probably wanted to surprise you. When he comes, just act shocked so I won’t get in trouble.” 

She saluted him and nodded her head, “Whatever you say.”

He pulled in and smiled at her, “I’ll be picking you up. Mingyu pulled your car into the garage so don’t worry about it.” 

Y/N nodded her head and gathered all her bags, “Thank you~. I’ll see you tonight.” 

“Be careful today. Please.” 

She pouted and nodded her head, “Yes Dad.” 

​​Seungcheol got out of the car and opened her door. He gave her a smile, “See you tonight.” 

She waved goodbye to him and walked towards the entrance of the school. She glanced up at the window and saw Seokjin talking to Suan. She watched Suan grab Seokjin’s arm, laughing at something he said. She frowned at this and shook her head. No negative thoughts. It’s too early. She walked into the building and heard her name. She turned around and smiled, “Good morning, Hoseok.”

“Good morning~. I was going to ask if you wanted to get coffee with me real quick before school starts.” 

Y/N thought about it and shrugged her shoulders, “Sure, let me drop my things off in my class.”

“Let me grab that bag to make things easier.” 

“Thanks.” 

The two walked back outside talking about their lessons for the day. Unaware of eyes on their backs. 

Kim Seokjin was born into a family filled with doctors. It was a shock to everyone when he wanted to become a teacher. His parents supported him and even offered to pay for his college but he refused. He wanted to achieve everything on his own. Finding a job in Korea was hard, especially for teachers. Every school he went to was too uptight and it didn’t feel right. Getting accepted to Map of Soul Academy was purely by chance. He remembers the day when he got the call from Namjoon.

Seokjin was on his couch watching the K-drama on TV. Park Jimin entered the room and raised his eyebrow, “It’s noon on a Monday. Why are you here?” 

Seokjin pouted and grabbed his ice cream from the coffee table, “I have nowhere to be.”

Jimin sighed and frowned at his roommate, “I’m going to guess you didn’t get the callback.” 

“Very good.” 

Seokjin looked up at the ceiling and sighed, “Maybe becoming a teacher was stupid. I should’ve become a doctor.”

Jimin shook his head and sat on the couch next to Seokjin, “Don’t say that Jin. This is what you wanted to do. Don’t give up.” 

“That’s easy for you to say. You have a job.”

Jimin scoffed at this, “Dude, I hate my job. At least you're trying to use your degree.”

Before Seokjin could say anything, his phone started ringing. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and he straightened up. He placed the ice cream in Jimin’s lap and picked up the phone, “Hello this is Kim Seokjin.”

“Hey, Jin. It’s Namjoon. I don’t if you remember me from college.” 

“Oh, I do. We had Biology together.” 

Seokjin heard a sigh of relief and he glanced at Jimin. Jimin raised his eyebrow and mouthed, “What’s going on?”. Making Seokjin shrug his shoulders, “Seokjin, would you like to have an interview today for a math teacher position here at Map of Soul Academy?” 

Seokjin stood up and nodded his head, “Yeah, I would love to have that interview.” 

“Is three o'clock okay?” 

“Yes, I’ll see you then.” 

“See you then, thank you again.” 

Seokjin turned towards Jimin and gave him a proud smile, “I’m putting that degree to work today.”

“You should wash your face. You have chocolate on your face.” 

He was forever grateful to Namjoon for giving him this job. Map of Soul Academy was a unique school. Unlike other schools, Map of Soul has four schools within one campus. Each school was based on different subjects, media, science, business, and medicine. He was hired into the media school and met unique teachers. It was clear that the media school was more lively than the other schools. Hoseok being the energetic earth science teacher and Kim Taehyung, the relaxed art teacher who only shows excitement towards art. It was rather different from what he expected. 

There was also L/N Y/N, the clumsy history teacher that brought smiles all around campus. It was clear that Y/N was popular with all the students. She is compassionate and fun to be around with but he wouldn’t know this because she always ran away from him. Ever since he first met her, he was intrigued by her. She wasn’t like any women he met, which is a good thing. 

“Ms. L/N, what can I do to help you?” Seokjin watched Y/N enter his classroom with papers in her hands, hiding her face. He tilted his head at her and frowned, “Are you okay?” 

Y/N let out a small cough and nodded her head. She handed him the papers but didn’t make eye contact with him. Before he could ask what the papers were, she ran away. It was obvious that her eyes were closed because she ran straight into the wall making his shelves fall down. He stood up from his desk with a worried look, “Ms. L/N, are you okay?”

She rubbed her forehead and ran towards the door. They made quick eye contact and she slammed the door close which caused the door to fall from the hinges. He blinked his eyes and let out a small laugh, “Cute.”

After fixing his classroom, he went to his car to end his long day. He got into his car but before he could leave the parking lot, he saw Y/N looking at him with wide eyes. He gave her a soft smile and popped his head out of the window and gave her a small wave, “Have a good night! See you in the morning!” 

She gave him a small wave and blinked her eyes, “Y-Yeah, se-see you in the morning.” 

He smiled to himself and watched her trip on her shoelaces. He went to unbuckle his seatbelt but saw a tall man help her up. He frowned at this, it wasn’t the first time she saw this man with Y/N. He had no idea who he was but it was clear that they were close. He shook his head and drove out of the parking lot. He looked through the mirror and watched the man get into Y/N’s car. He wondered who he was and what he was towards Y/N. 

Seokjin sat at the dinner table as his mother gave him a soft smile, “Did Seok-joong tell you?” 

Seokjin looked up from his rice and glanced at his older brother, “Tell me what?” 

Seok-joong rolled his eyes and set his bowl down, “Mom set me up for a date.”

He glanced at his mother and let out a small laugh, “You did what?”

His mom gave him a frown and nodded her head, “He’s almost forty and he’s single. I’m just trying to help him.”

Seok-joong scoffed at this and shook his head, “You set me up with a twenty-six-year-old. How is that going to help me?” 

“I want you to have someone. I don’t want you to be lonely. Lonely people die faster.” 

Seokjin glanced at his dad and raised his eyebrow, “Dad, did you tell her this?”

His dad shook his head and let out a laugh, “Her fortune-teller told her that one, son. I don’t want to intervene because she’s scared when she’s determined.” 

Seokjin nodded his head at this, “Mom, who is the lucky girl?” 

“Oh, Mrs. L/N’s daughter. You don’t know her but I’ve been told she’s wonderful.” 

Seokjin started coughing on his rice and took a drink of his water with tears in his eyes. He looked at his mother with wide eyes, “L/N!”

“Seokjin, are you okay?”

“Nevermind that, L/N?”

His mother nodded her head and gave him a confused look, “Is that okay?” 

Seokjin let out a small cough and nodded his head, “Yeah....” I’m sure it’s a different L/N. There’s no way it's Y/N.

The next morning, Seokjin went to work like normal. He was walking down the hallway with thoughts running around his mind. What if it’s Y/N? Will Y/N fall for Seok-Joong? It makes sense if she does because he’s a doctor. Who wouldn’t be in love with a doctor? It-

“Jin, are you okay?”

He turned around and saw Suan giving him a concerned look, “W-Why do you ask?” 

“You're gripping your hair tightly and you are muttering.” 

He let go of his hair and let out a small cough, “I’m okay. J-just thinking.”

Suan gave him a small smirk, “Was it about Y/N?”

Seokjin glared at her and rolled his eyes, “Stop talking nonsense.”

Suan let out a small laugh and grabbed his arm, “Every time you think about her, you mutter under your breath. You're so down bad for her, it’s funny.”

Seokjin felt his face get warm and looked at the window with a frown, “I’m not down bad...” He saw Hoseok and Y/N walking off campus and he frowned at this. Why was she always surrounded with other guys? Why was she so likable?  

“Jin, you're going to cause the glass to break if you continue to stare at it.” 

“S-Shut up.” 

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Tonight was another date and Y/N hated it. Her mother told her some details about the date and if she was a normal girl, this would be a dream date. A date with a doctor is like winning the lottery but of course, Y/N didn’t care about the lottery. She was dressed in a light pink dress, nothing special, and drove to the restaurant. After this date, she was going to take ​​Seungcheol and Mingyu’s advice. After this date, she was going to tell her mother, no more dates. She can’t handle them anymore. 

She walked into the restaurant and walked towards the hostess, “Table for Y/N?”

She looked up and went through the list of names. She nodded her head, “Table ten.” 

The hostess went back to her phone to watch something and Y/N sighed. She walked past the teenager and went towards a waiter, “Do you know where table ten is?”

The waiter blinked his eyes and nodded his head, “It’s by the window.”

Y/N nodded her head and squinted at the tag, “Thank you Jungkook.” She walked away from him and saw the table. There was someone who looked just like Seokjin. She stopped walking and her mouth dropped. Who the hell is this guy? She rubbed her eyes roughly and stared at her date who was the mere image of her crush. She pinched her arm and realized this was real. She slowly walked towards the table with a confused look, “Seok-joong?”

Seok-joong looked up from the menu and gave her a small smile, “That’s me. Don’t yell it out.”

She tilted her head at him and nodded her head, “I’m Y/N...” She slowly sat in the chair and she couldn’t stop staring at him with a confused look. Seok-joong looked around him and gave her a confused look, “Are you okay? Is there something on my face?”

“You just looked like someone I know...” 

“Is that a good thing?”

In a sense, yes. “It’s not a bad thing...”

Seok-joong nodded his head and took a sip of his water, “Well should we order dinner?” 

“Y-Yeah, we should.” 

Y/N took her phone out (hiding it under the table) and texted ​​Seungcheol, I need you to look someone up for me

Are you going to kill someone?

What no, I think I’m on a date with someone who’s related to Seokjin

Are you finally going crazy?

Look up Kim Seok-joong for me

Oh shit...that’s his brother

She looked up from her phone and looked at Seok-joong with a defeated look. Why couldn’t her mom set her up with Seokjin? She would’ve given her mother her paycheck every month for a year for the setup but no. Y/N took a bit of her pasta and let out a small cough, “So....family?” 

Seok-joong looked up from his steak and nodded his head, “Yeah, something that most people have.”

“You got a brother?” 

Seok-joong let out a laugh and nodded his head, “Are you trying to move on from me that fast?” 

Y/N’s eyes widened at this and shook her head, “No, No I didn’t mean it like that! Oh, god I just processed what I just said.”

“Relax. I have a brother, his name is Seokjin.”

Y/N stood up from the table and put her arms up in a victory pose, “YES! I WON!” 

Seok-joong let out a laugh and raised his eyebrow, “I’m assuming you know him.”

She felt her face get warm and sat back down. She let out a sheepish laugh and nodded her head, “I-I do know him. Well, I don’t know him like that but I know his name and I work with him.”

“You talk a lot when you're nervous. Did you know that?” 

“Noted...Did you want this date?”

Seok-Joong shook his head and took a bite of his steak, “Nope and I’m amused you didn’t want it either.” 

“No offense but no.” Y/N clapped her hands at this and smiled, “I think the universe likes me. I-I need your help.”

“My help? Do you have a rash on your body or something?” 

Y/N glanced down at her arms and then back at Seok-joong, “What? No. I need help with Seokjin.”

Seok-joong nodded his head at this, “What about him?”

Y/N started to play with her pasta and looked up at Seok-joong, “You see...how do I say this?”

“You have a crush on my brother.”

Y/N closed her mouth and nodded her head slowly, “I guess that’s how you say it....I can’t talk to him...I have no idea how to approach him.” 

“Seokjin is the easiest person to talk to. He goes up to people all the time to strike up a conversation. He does that all the time at the ER.” 

“Wow, he talks to patients on his days off. He’s amazing.” 

Seok-joong snapped his fingers at Y/N, “Don’t daydream on me. Why can’t you approach him? Also, this is the weirdest date I have ever had.” 

“This is the most helpful date I have ever had. I get very clumsy when I see him...I broke his door the other day.” 

“Ohh, that was you. He told us at dinner.”

“Oh god, he’s telling you guys my most embarrassing moments.”

“Well, it sounds like you do it a lot because he talks about you all the time.”

Y/N felt her heart beat faster and she leaned towards him, “He talks about me? Oh my god, he talks about me.” 

He let out a small laugh, “Maybe that’s why he was upset last night about this date.” 

“Upset?” 

Seok-joong took a sip of his water and nodded his head, “He was shocked when he heard L/N. That was the first time I saw that expression on his face.”

Y/N felt warmth go through her body and she smiled at this, “Really? What should I do? I can’t talk to him...I always mess up and look like an idiot in front of him.” 

“Don’t change the way you are. Just be more confident with him.” 

Y/N scoffed at this and leaned back in her chair with her arms crossed, “Why do men think it's that easy?” 

Seok-joong shrugged his shoulders, “It’s just Seokjin.” 

Seokjin glared at his phone and took a sip of his beer. Jimin glanced at Suna and then back at Seokjin, “So...why are you glaring at your phone?” 

Seokjin crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged his shoulders, “No reason...”

Suna let out a small laugh and placed her beer on the coffee table, “It’s because his brother is on a date with Y/N.” 

Seokjin groaned at this and looked up at the ceiling, “I don’t need this.” 

Jimin let out a laugh and looked at Seokjin, “Is that the girl that keeps running away from you?” 

“Shut it.” 

Suan rolled her eyes and nodded her head, “Yes, it is. She's super nice and she’s popular with the men which makes Jin jealous.”

 “I don’t get jealous.” 

“Yes, you do.” 

Just then the door opened and Seokjin jumped up from his seat. He walked towards the door and was met with Jungkook giving him a confused look, “Hello?”

“Well, did you see him?”

“Jin, did you have Jungkook spy on Seok-joong?”

“Jimin not now.”

Jungkook put his coat on the coat hanger and nodded his head, “Yeah and it was with the girl from the picture you showed me.” 

“You have a picture of Y/N on your phone?” 

Seokjin glared at Suan and then looked back at Jungkook, “D-Did they look like they were having a good time?” 

“You do realize I had a job to do, right?”

“Okay and? Did they look like they were having a good time? Please tell me.”

Jungkook shrugged his shoulders, “I mean they were laughing...”

Seokjin frowned at this and he leaned against the wall with a frown, “She fell for the doctor. Of course, she fell for him.” 

Jungkook let out a small laugh and shook his head, “You don’t know that hyung.”

“You would fall for a doctor too.” 

“I’m not gay...” 

Seokjin let out a groan and rubbed his forehead, “You know what I mean.”

“I don’t actually...”

Seokjin walked back into the living and sighed to himself. He picked up his beer and glared at Suan, “Don’t say anything.” 

“You have to try harder to get her to notice you then.” 

Jimin nodded his head and looked at Seokjin, “Can you just admit that you like her first.” 

“Leave me alone.” 

Seokjin was waiting in his car for Y/N. After last night, he was going to try harder to talk to her and spend time with her. He wasn’t going to let his brother win. He took a sip of his water and his eyes widened when he saw Y/N getting out of her car. She was dressed in her normal attire but today she had this glow to her and he didn’t like that. That just gave him more proof that she had a good date with his brother. 

He took a deep breath and got out of his car as fast as he could. He walked towards Y/N and pushed up his glasses, “Good morning, Y/N.” 

Y/N froze in her spot and slowly turned towards the voice. Her eyes were wide and when she was met with the dark brown eyes, she dropped her lunch bag. Seokjin glanced down at the bag and picked it up for her, “Go-Good morning, Seokjin.” 

He handed her the bag and gave her a smile, “You can call me Jin.”

“J-Jin.” 

“I was wondering if you would come with me to get coffee.” 

She looked around her and then pointed to herself, “Yo-You want me to go with you to get coffee?” 

Seokjin let out a small laugh and nodded his head, “Yeah, we have thirty minutes until school starts.”

“I like coffee.”

“That’s good. I like coffee too.” 

After dropping her stuff at her classroom, the two walked to the local cafe across the street. Seokjin was talking the whole time while Y/N stayed silent. She couldn’t think of anything to say to him. She kept nodding her head but she stayed silent. Her dream was coming true and she couldn’t even express her happiness because of nerves. Seok-joong told her to stare at his lips or focus on his eyebrows but she couldn’t even look at him. Every time she looked at him, she wanted to kiss him.

“Y/N, do you want the croissant?”

She shook her head and looked at the croissant in the glass, “Y-Yeah...I-I’ll pay you back.” 

Seokjin shook his head at this, “You can pay for the next time.” 

Y/N’s eyes widened and whipped her head to look at him, “Nex-Next time!? 

Seokjin grabbed the coffee and the croissant with a smile, “Yeah, maybe this time we could get lunch instead and more time to hang out.”

Y/N almost dropped her coffee but Seokjin put his hand on the bottom of the cup, “We should go back before we are late for school.” 

“Ye-yeah.” 

Y/N entered her classroom and stared at her door with a confused face. She glanced at the coffee and croissant with a red face, “Did-Did that just happen?” 

“Ms. L/N, did you finally get asked out!?” 

She turned and pointed her finger at her student, “Ara! Sit down and don’t yell!”

“But Ms. L/N, you're yelling right now.” 

“Let’s start the lesson.”

“She’s ignoring us.”

At the end of the day, She was packing up after a long day of teasing from her students and Hoseok. It was annoying but she grew up with an older sister, she could take anything. The door opened and she looked up from grading. She sat up and smiled widely, “Jaebeom!” 

He gave her his signature smile and leaned against the door, “Yo. It’s been a while.” 

She ran towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck, “How’s Jinyoung?” 

Jaebeom let her go and frowned, “You didn’t even ask about me?”

She let him go and let out a small laugh, “Fine, how’s my ex-boyfriend and his boyfriend?” 

Jaebeom shrugged his shoulders, “We’ve been good. I wanted to visit you and the guys. It’s been a while. Mingyu told me that your sports day was coming up. I wanted to cheer you on.” 

“You work in Tokyo, don’t feel guilty. We understand and yes, sports day is coming up. I don’t need cheering, I just need an excuse to leave it.” 

Jaebeom laughed at this and glanced at the table, “Need help grading?” 

“Please.”

Seokjin was walking down the hallway and he went to say goodbye to Y/N. He glanced through the glass and he felt his heart stop, Y/N was close to a man he had never seen before. This closeness was different from her with Hoseok and Mingyu, this closeness was warm and it was comfortable. It was clear they knew each other and the way she looked at him made him feel sick. He walked away from the door with his head hanging low.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Y/N hated going out with her sister. Umiko made it known that she was better than her. With the way she dressed whenever they went out and the way she spoke changed. It always made her feel small but she never said anything because what was the point? This is how her sister was and there was no point in trying to change her. 

Her mother set up a dinner party with her friends, the Kims. She knew this meant she was going to see Seokjin and she was ready for the first time. Jaebeom gave her encouragement and told her to show off the side she never showed to people. Her sexy side. She had one but she didn’t know how to use it but tonight that was going to change. She was going to get Seokjin's attention...well she would try. With her sister there, she didn’t know how this night would turn out. It was either her crying because Seokjin noticed Umiko or her crying because Seokjin noticed her. 

She entered the restaurant and her eyes landed on Seokjin who was in the corner. She fixed her skirt and took a deep breath. She ignored her sister's stare and walked towards Seokjin. She pushed her hair behind her ear and gave him a small smile, “H-Hi, Jin.”

Seokjin glanced and his eyes widened. Y/N was in a dark blue off-the-shoulder dress that made her curves stand out. He knew she was cute but to see her like this, this was different. He let out a small cough and placed his glass on the table, “Hey, you look great, Y/N.”

Y/N glanced down at her dress and smiled to herself, “I-I bought this dress.” 

Seokjin let out a small laugh, “I would hope so or are you a criminal?” 

Y/N shook her head and let out a small cough, “I-I would be a horrible criminal. Especially if you were the cop.”

Seokjin raised his eyebrow at this and leaned down to be closer to her face, “Oh? Why is that?” 

“Yo-You make me nervous.” 

“Don’t be nervous around me. I want to hear you talk more.” 

She felt her face get hotter and she nodded her head, “Ye-Yeah...I’ll talk more.” 

He grabbed her hand and headed to the balcony without anyone noticing. He stood in front of her and smiled, “Can I ask you something personal?”

She tilted her head and slowly nodded her head, “I-I suppose.” 

“Are you single?” 

She blinked her eyes and let out a small cough, “I am.”

His eyes widened and he couldn’t stop the excitement that was flowing through his body, “Really?” 

She nodded her head, “I’m sure you heard about my date with your brother but...it was obvious that it wouldn’t work out.” 

“That actually made me feel better.” 

Y/N tilted her head at this, “Make you feel better? Why?” 

“Y/N, I-”

“Y/N, who is this?” 

Y/N looked past Seokjin and frowned, Umiko was standing there in her elegant black dress that showed off her beauty. Y/N hated how Umiko was looking at Seokjin, it made her feel uneasy. Y/N swallowed some spit and looked down at her shoes, “This is Kim Seokjin. He’s a math teacher at the school.” 

Umiko nodded her head and glanced at Seokjin up and down, “A teacher? I would’ve suspected a K-idol with the way you look.”

Seokjin let out an awkward cough and nodded his head, “Thanks...umm and you are?”

“I’m Park Umiko. I’m visiting family for a short term. After this party, I have to get on the next flight to New York for my job.” 

Seokjin nodded his head and glanced at Y/N, “Can we talk later?” 

Y/N looked up and nodded her head with a small smile, “Yeah...” 

She walked away from the scene and she didn’t even bother to look at them one last time. It would only break her heart. Umiko always wins and this annoys her. She will never win, she had to accept this.

Umiko watched her sister leave and turned towards Seokjin with a small smirk, “So, Seokjin-”

“It’s rude to interrupt a private conversation.” 

Umiko’s eyes widened at this and let out a nervous laugh, “What do you mean? You were talking to my sister, it wasn’t private.” 

“But it was private. I didn’t want to call you out in front of her because it felt inappropriate. Now what do you want?”

Umiko scoffed at this and crossed her arms over her chest, “I just wanted to know you...is that so bad?” 

“Yes, especially when I was talking to someone. Now, I’ll see you at the dinner table.” 

Seokjin ran out of the balcony leaving Umiko dumbfounded. His eyes landed on Y/N who was talking to his mother and he smiled at their smiles. He slowly walked towards them and smiled at his mother, “Hello, mom.”

“Oh, Seokjin. Y/N was just telling me about her lesson the other day. She’s so intelligent.” 

Seokjin smiled at this and glanced at Y/N who shook her head, “I’m just average-”

“Y/N is one of the most intelligent teachers I have ever met and I’m proud to work with her.” 

Y/N glanced at Seokjin with wide eyes, “Really?” 

Seokjin nodded his head, “The students talk about you all day and I’ve seen your lesson plans. You're brilliant.”  

She smiled down at her shoes, “Thank you, Jin.” She looked back up and glanced at the balcony to see Umiko smoking with annoyance. She had never seen Umiko so annoyed before but it made her feel better. Even though that was terrible to say, she needed a win. 

Seokjin glanced down at her hand and wrapped his pinky around hers with a smile on his face. She glanced down and then back at him, he looked down at her and winked. She smiled at this and went closer to him. Seokjin’s mother watched this with a smile on her face. At least one of her sons will get with someone. 

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Today was field day and Y/N hated this day. Last year, they had to play soccer against the students and she fell on her back after trying to kick a goal. The year before that, she went to hit the ball in baseball and she let the bat go. She hated sports day but this year was different. She wanted to impress Seokjin and this was her moment. All week ​​Seungcheol, Jaebeom, and Mingyu were training her for this moment. She was ready to play but she wasn’t ready for the game to be volleyball. All the sports she trained for and volleyball wasn’t on the list. 

She ran onto the court with the rest of the teachers and her eyes landed on Seokjin. He was the referee and he looked great in strips. Her face got warm and she didn’t even notice the game started, “Y/N! We need you!” 

She shook her head and nodded her head towards Hoseok, “O-Okay!” 

Jaebeom leaned towards Seungcheol, “Is that the guy who she has a crush on?”

“Yeah...I’m hoping this game goes well.” 

Y/N went to hit the ball but the ball fell right in front of her. Jaebeom sighed and shook his head, “I just want her to hit the ball once.” 

Mingyu nodded his head with his arms crossed, “She’ll hit the ball but she won’t hit over the net.” 

“Oi, have faith in her.” 

Y/N walked towards the water and frowned to herself, she hadn’t hit the ball once. She took a sip of her water and she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see Seokjin giving her a soft smile, “Are you okay?”

She felt her face get hot and she looked back down at her water, “I-I’m okay.” 

“Just remember, it’s just a game. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

“I-I’ll try.” 

He patted her shoulder, “I’ll be cheering you on.” 

She watched him walk away and her mouth fell open, “He-He’s cheering me on!?” 

Y/N went to the court and felt fire go through her body. She was going to get a point and she was going to do it for Seokjin, “Game...Start!” 

She ran across the court and went to hit the ball but somehow, the ball hit her square in the face. Seokjin's eyes widened and ran towards her, “TIME OUT!” He walked towards her and pushed the ball away, “Y/N, are you okay!?”

She let out a small moan and opened her eyes, “Did I hit the ball?” 

Suan walked towards her and shook her head, “Technically you hit it but not the way you're supposed to hit it.” 

“Suan, you're going to be the referee. I’m taking Y/N to the nurse.” 

Before Suan could answer, Seokjin picked up Y/N and ran towards the nurse. Mingyu glanced at ​​Seungcheol, “I guess that worked in her favor.” 

“Shut it.” 

Seokjin placed Y/N on the bed and got her ice pouch. He placed the ice on her head and she couldn’t stop staring at him, “Th-Thank you, J-Jin.”

“Are you okay?” 

“I-I just have a headache.” 

Seokjin nodded his head and grabbed Tylenol for her. He ran his fingers through her hair and let out a small sigh, “Your face is red. Are you sure you're okay?” 

She swallowed some spit and nodded her head, “I-I’m okay. Don’t worry.” 

“I can’t do that. I worry about you constantly.” 

She blinked her eyes at this, “Wh-What do you mean?”

Seokjin felt his body get warm and let out a small cough, “I-I..I care for you.”

“Yo-You care for me!?” 

Seokjin glanced down at her lips and sighed, “Fuck it.” 

He leaned down and placed his lips on hers. Her eyes widened at the sudden action but she slowly closed them. She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought him in closer and he happily accepted it. When they pulled away, Y/N looked at him with a shocked face, “You kissed me....does that mean-”

“Yes...”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.” 

Seokjin let out a laugh and shook his head. He placed his forehead against hers and smiled, “I-I like you.” Y/N nodded her head and she fainted causing Seokjin's eyes to widen, “NURSE!” 

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚  Extend Ending ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ 

It was Seokjin’s birthday and he got everything he wanted. He got the cake he wanted from his mom and Y/N placed the said cake on the table without falling. The greatest gift he got this year was Y/N, herself. What more could he ask for? Which is how he landed in this situation...

The warmth of his hand made Y/N feel so hot and helpless. He placed a gentle kiss on the tip of her ear causing her to let out a surprise gasp, “J-Jin.” 

Seokjin let a small smirk appear and continued to kiss her neck. His fingers slipped down his skirt and he sneaked his fingers to push Y/N’s underwear to the side. He thrust a finger into her aching hole and smirked at her shaking, “You were the one that wanted this. Don’t act too shocked.” 

“I-I-”

“Shush. You don’t want anyone coming up looking for us, right.”

She felt her face get hot and shook her head, “No...”

“Then stay quiet.” 

She felt her back arched against his body as her mouth fell open. His fingers were a work of art. They were long enough to reach that spot that made her see the stars. She clenched around him and covered her mouth, “W-Wait...not there. Ji-Jin.” 

She was embarrassed because it was her fault that this happened. She couldn’t help herself because she saw Seokjin in a casual black shirt. He looked so good and she couldn’t stop herself. She started to finger herself in his bedroom, thinking it would be quick and she would go to dinner without anyone noticing but Seokjin noticed. He always noticed. 

He moved his fingers faster into her and she let out a small whine. She was dripping down to his fingers right to his wrist. She couldn’t believe the mess she was making on his bed sheet, “Ji-Jin, I’m so-” She felt her face get hotter when she watched Seokjin lick away her juices, “J-Jin, don’t do that.” 

“It’s not my fault you taste so good.” 

His lips landed on Y/N’s and in a steady swoop, Seokjin hoisted her by her thighs and wrapped her legs around his waist as the kiss deepened. She wrapped her arms around his neck and she couldn’t stop herself from moaning against his plump lips. His hands gripped her ass and thighs as she felt his cock at her entrance. 

She pushed him away her lips shined in the moonlight, “Jin, your mother-” 

“I know.”

“We have to-to hurry.”

Seokjin let out a deep chuckle and kissed her neck, “You just had my fingers and now you want my cock...so selfish.”

“St-Stop.” 

He unbuckled his pants and hoisted Y/N up a little. He pulled down the pants and boxes. She glanced down to see his swollen head and she felt her face get hotter. He buried his cock into her pussy and she let out a loud gasp. Even though this wasn’t the first time they had sex, she never got used to his size. He squeezed the flesh of her ass and as he tried to find his rhythm, “God, always so tight.” 

He began to thrust into her and his pace was causing the bed to shake a little. Her face turned hot at the sound and she hid her face into his chest. He ran his fingers through his hair and continued to thrust, he kissed the top of her head and let out a small laugh, always so cute. He felt her clench and he brought his fingers to press harshly against her clit. She let out a small sob and Seokjin kissed the side of her head, “It’s okay. Let it go.” 

She closed her eyes and did just that. She let out a small gasp and wrapped her arms around his neck, “It-It’s too much.” 

“I know, baby. I’m almost there.” 

Her body goes limp and before he could spill into her, he pulled his cock out and the sticky white fluid went inside her underwear. She let out a small laugh and shook her head, “Yo-You need to stop doing that.” 

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, “Let me live my fantasy.” 

“Jin! Y/N! Is everything okay!?” 

Y/N pushed Jin off and fixed herself up, “We-Were okay! I wasn’t feeling good! We’ll be down soon.” 

Jin got up from the floor and glared at her, “Did you just push me off?” 

“Yes...hurry up before your mom thinks we had sex.” 

“She would be happy because that means she would get a grandchild.” 

“JIN!” 

Jin let out a small laugh and leaned down to kiss her forehead, “Thank you for the birthday gift.” 

“Sh-Shut up.” 

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Tag List: @luaxjin @joonlover1207 @angelikookrecs @yoontaethings

[verypeanutgarden]

Bakugou Katsuki would be the type to be a hopeless romantic, but would never realize your crush on him. Even if you smack him in the face with it. Now we are here in 1A classroom...

•••••••

Bakugou would never admit it, even if it will cause him is life. That the books hidden under his bed, are romance novels. From Jane Austen to Nora Roberts. He may be a hopelessly romantic nerd but he is one that can up anyone. But the moment you came into view the very first day of school, that whole dynamic went away. He became calmer, to the point Midoriya had thought he died that day.

"Hey, bakugou?" The sound of your voice caught his attention. Pulled him right out of his day dream, he turned towards your direction. A simple nod to say keep taking.

"I was thinking maybe we could start the assignment Mr. Aizawa gave? So that we can be done by tomorrow." You continued happily. Oh how he wants to listen to your voice everyday, he thought. But he just ended up turning away and giving a nod. Which to be honest was more than what people get now-a-days.

"Okay! We can work...at your room? So it's more comfortable for you" You suggest, Bakugou being slow nodded and agreed but really. He was just spacing out and staring at you, but of course he will never admit that. So he didn't know what he agreed too.

As the day is about to end, the majority of the class headed towards the dorm to rest up and start the day all over again tomorrow. Of course the brooding Bakugou, went to the training room instead of going with the rest. Completely forgetting he was supposed to meet with you...around 6pm he started to head to the dorm. The dorm still had lights on and everyone was just finishing with dinner, Bakugou had set his back down and grabbed what seemed to be curry but ended up looking like death. So he visibly passed and up the opted for the left over fish from this morning. Finishing the dinner he heads upstairs to shower.

Before he headed to the shower he simply texted Kirishima if he would like to hang out, but not bothering to try to see Kirishima's reply. Simply throwing his phone on the bed and heading to the shower in his room.

The steam leaves the bathroom as Bakugou steps out, as he goes to reach for his phone. A knock on the door with the towel around his waist way lower than it needs to be, he pauses and assumes it's Kirishima. As he reaches for the door saying, "Took you long enough-"

Bakugou stops dead in his sentence, realizing it is not Kirishima he was talking to but you. With only a towel covering himself.

So at that moment Bakugou learned his lesson to pay attention.

"Um...I see you didn't expect me...uh-" You reply awkwardly. Before you could even form a sentence the door simply closed in your face and you were left in the hallway stunned. As you paused for a minute and raised your hand to knock on the door, before you even touched the door it swings open to a fully dressed Bakugou.

"What do you want?" He asked in a hurry. You tilt your head to the side confused.

"I'm here for the assignment I asked you about awhile ago?" You replied with your eyes trailing to his chest because god knows even with a hoodie you can still see all the muscles. Stopping yourself, you fidget with your fingers.

Bakugou ends up clueless as to what you mean, then in clicked. The hero intern assignment that Aizawa assigned, and since you were also under Best Jeanist. You two were assigned to be partners in the assignment.

"Yea." He said as he opens the door wider and gestures you to come in.

Hes room was surprisingly the most neat you have ever seen. It looked like a five star hotel, and coming for a man? Who is not in his 30s is a weird feeling. As you stand in the middle of the room the sound of the door closing too you out of day dreaming. You feel bakugou walking up behind you, and pass you. He then gestures to you to sit at the bed.

"So...where do you want to start?" You started.

He blinked once, then twice. He then replied, "We can start with the problems." Scratching the back of his neck as a form of habit when nervous. But hes not going to tell you that. With the sound of the air conditioning filling the silence, you drop the notebooks you were holding and opened to the page needed for the assignment. You handed him the page and asked which he would like to do.

An hour later, he sat on the floor in front of his bed with his back turned to you while u layed on your stomach facing the back of his head. You would be lying to yourself if you said you were definitely NOT looking at how his shoulders were flexing at every small movement, or how his breathing is steady but every now and then he takes that deep breath and exhale, or how his back is a testimony to his dedication to his workout and body, or how his hair-

"Y/n?" He asked. Cutting you off your train of thought. He had finish his assignment and he had wanted to given to you, as you went and grabbed the paper you pen fell out of the bed and rolled at the bottom of his bed. You moved closer and tried to grab what fell below, only to be stopped by a hand on you wrist.

"Don't." He said firmly. "Why? Im just getting my pen" You replied. He said nothing only to reach down and grab the pencil that rolled and hand it to you. Being as curious as you are you asked him, "What is under here?" You asked and he stayed quiet. It was a surprise he hasn't kicked you out of his room.

Of course you knew you had limits with bakugou, and you knew not to ask again. But you just couldn't help yourself.

You kept asking him for the remainder of the hour you spent in him room to finish the assignment.

"Bakugou...come on, if its dolls I wouldn't tell." You teased him. He practically snap his head at you and just turned his head to his notebook. After which you still kept bothering him until, he snapped and he turned his face towards you. Only a few inches apart, this was unlike him. Because by now he would have kicked you out.

"Shut it y/n, or I will make you shut up." He said almost like a whisper. Hes eyes grew wide, and he turned his head he was about to apologize until you suddenly said,

"Really? Shut me up then, bet you can't..." You replied. You knew not to bite back but, you got petty.

Bakugou's pupils exploded, no one would talk back to him before. Now you, the beautiful you is challenging his patience. He knew he liked you the moment he heard you talk back to mineta. He knew he liked you the moment he saw how you were when you fought. Good enough to beat anyone that comes your way, and he liked that you challenge him. He smirked at you only to shut you up with him holding your wrist and pulling you closer.

"Anything to say big shot?" He replied. You couldn't say a word, "Thought so." He said cockyly but before he could say another word.

The door opens, and poor Kirishima paused and knew he was going to die that night. As Bakugou turns hes head to the door, you could hear the explosion popping off his hands...wait why is there a popping sound?

Before you knew it poor kirishima was running away before the explosion would go off from Bakugou's hand.

All that happened after was a blur because here you are now, a pro hero. In a relationship with the soon to be top one hero Dynamight...well soon to be engaged that is. He just picked up the ring and hes on his way home...

[makeitmingi]

When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 6]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.3K

Hongjoong's fingertipes tapped against the wooden surface of his desk. He was dressed in a plain white t shirt and dress pants, his white dress shirt discarded on the ground by his office door and his jacket on the couch.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

"Come in." Hongjoong sighed, looking up from the computer screen. Wooyoung came in, stepping around the bloodied dress shirt that was strewn on the ground.

"The tailor is coming in an hour to do the first round of adjustments for our suits." Wooyoung informed.

"Alright, thanks. I should go get cleaned up then." Hongjoong stood up.

"Did you get anything good from the guy?" Wooyoung asked as Hongjoong gathered his things. He had just tortured a guy for information. Hence, the bloodied dress shirt.

"Nothing we didn't already know. I swear it's like we're missing something. No one can give me what I want." Hongjoong growled.

"Everyone's tight lipped, hyung. Plus, it could be anyone aiming to take us down." Wooyoung shrugged.

"And don't worry, we've got more surveillance up. Someone is bound to slip up and when they do, we'll be there to deal with them." The younger added. Hongjoong nodded his head, threats to Ateez were never taken lightly. His attack happened a week ago but the jab to his reputation felt like a fresh wound.

"You know what you need, hyung? A night at the fight club." San, having overheard the conversation, poked his head through the open door of Hongjoong's office.

"I'm too busy to have a fight now." Hongjoong chuckled as he picked up his jacket and bloodied dress shirt.

"Let off some steam. Fine, if you don't want to fight, go race." San grinned.

"San's right. It's been a while since you've raced, hyung." Wooyoung giggled. Hongjoong shrugged in response but was actually considering it. He used to race all the time with Seonghwa.

"Okay, you two. Let me shower before the tailor comes." Hongjoong playfully shoved them aside before going to his bedroom.

"Hmm..." Closing one eye, Mingi raised the gun in his hand and steadily pressed the trigger.

"Woah." Yeosang used his hand to shield the sun over his eyes as he squinted at the target to see where Mingi's bullet had landed. Mingi did the same, finding the bullet hole on the target.

"I hate these new stabilisers. I'm switching back to my old brands." Mingi cursed, dismantling the gun at the table and switching out the new stabiliser with the old ones. Taking his arm, he did the same as before and shot the target.

"This new stabiliser is supposed to help heavier guns with the recoil. If it doesn't work then we'll switch back." Seonghwa noted.

"You try, hyung." Mingi stepped aside for Seonghwa to try it.

"It adds too much weight to the gun, it's uneven." Seonghwa said, holding his gun in his hand after switching to the new stabiliser. Mingi nodded in agreement.

"Add that for those who use silencers. It's gonna throw the entire aim of the gun off." Mingi replied.

"That's why I prefer to use these. No need for any added equipment or upgrades." Yeosang held his fists up with a grin.

"Yeah, no thanks." Seonghwa shook his head with a chuckle, taking a sip of his rum. He placed the crystal glass down and took aim, shooting the target in a distance.

"I see what you mean..." The older turned to Mingi, who hummed and drank his beer.

"Mr Park, Mr Kang and Mr Song, I've been told to inform you that the tailor is coming soon to make adjustments for your suits for the upcoming gala." The butler came out into the backyard where they were practicing. The three nodded and waved the butler off, he bowed and left them alone.

"I completely forgot about the gala to be honest, even if we have been involved in the planning of it all." Yeosang admitted honestly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well, we've all been busier than usual. And with Hongjoong's mother's passing, it's been different." Seonghwa said.

"Hmm, whether he admits it or not, Hongjoong hyung is still recovering." Mingi added.

"He is. He's just too stubborn to admit it. But he still knows his priorities so let's put our focus on the gala." Seonghwa told the two, who nodded obediently.

"Where's Yunho and Jongho?" When the 3 entered, Hongjoong descended down the stairs, seeing the two missing.

"Probably gaming." Wooyoung snickered.

"We were not gaming. We were busy making sure the new surveillance system is up and running. You were the one gaming with San." Jongho said, walking through the front door with Yunho.

"Damn, how did you know?" San winced.

"Did you think we would not have full surveillance of our own computer lab?" Yunho scoffed, sitting on the couch. As the boys sat together in the living room with drinks and snacks, they chatted and waited for the tailor to come.

"What's the theme we're going with for the gala?" Jongho asked. Everyone turned to Hongjoong since he was always the one in charge of deciding the theme.

"It's a surprise." Hongjoong smirked from his armchair, sipping the whiskey he had.

"Good afternoon, sirs." The tailor came in with his assistant, each of them wheeling in a rack of clothing.

"You can set up here." Seonghwa said.

"Thank you." The tailor bowed and the two left the racks, going back out to get their remaining supplies from their vehicle. Yeosang tried to peek under the black cloth that covered the racks.

"I'll be placing the mirror here." The tailor set the full length mirror by the glass doors so the natural sunlight would come in.

"As always, Mr Kim chose a very nice design for all of you." The tailor complimented.

"Show us already!" Mingi said impatiently. This was their regular tailor for such events so he was used to the boys, their behaviours, mannerisms and what they did for work. The tailor chuckled and pulled the cloth off the racks to reveal the 8 outfits that were hanging off the hangers.

"Oooh." The 7 boys were in awe. Hongjoong stood up, going for a closer look. He nodded in satisfaction. Each boy had a uniquely designed outfit but there was always a similar theme.

"Nice choice. I don't think we've done dark purple before." Seonghwa ran his fingers against the material.

"Dark purple velvet." Hongjoong corrected.

"A purple this dark can go with either gold or white gold. Very nice." Wooyoung whistled. Hongjoong nodded, that was the intention of the design.

"Yes! I got a cape!" San fist pumped at his dark purple velvet piece. Yeosang's was a double breasted jacket with a peaked lapel.

"Ooh, mine is a coat." Yunho held up the hanger with his name tagged, looking at the piece.

"This is yours." Hongjoong handed the hanger to his best friend. It was a three piece velvet suit; a waistcoat, a jacket and the same pants as everyone. Jongho's jacket had a shawl neckline so the collar of his white shirt could have overhang to create a contrast of colour.

"This is Mr Song's." The tailor gave Mingi his purple velvet coat. But unlike Yunho's, Mingi's was different in that there were no buttons, it had a shawl neckline.

"And you requested to wear your new bolo tie so I got you a fitting shirt instead of your usual flowy one." Hongjoong sighed.

"Oh yes, I forgot about that." Wooyoung chuckled. His suit was jacket was more form fitting with a notched lapel.

"Okay, we'll have you all change to make adjustments. For those that do not have a white shirt on your hanger, means you are meant to be without one." The tailor said.

Hongjoong's was a regular jacket with a peaked lapel, pants and a white shirt but his tie was made of the same purple velvet material.

"Oh yeah, this is your bow tie, Yeosang ah." Hongjoong handed the bow tie to the male when he stepped out.

"Are you sure I should wear this without a shirt on the inside?" Seonghwa raised an eyebrow as he walked down the stairs. Hongjoong nodded in confirmation, Seonghwa always looked good in the suits that he designed. He had an eye for design, knowing what points to highlight on each person.

"Mr Park." The tailor gestured to the mirro. Seonghwa stepped up and the tailor stood behind him with his assistant. Hongjoong stood by to observe.

"It's a bit loose around the waist. We'll gather it in more." The tailor said and his assistant took down the notes.

"Mingi ah, what accessories are you getting for us?" Hongjoong asked the taller male.

"I think, after looking at everyone, white gold would be nicer. There's more elegance to it. I'm afraid yellow gold stands out too much and not in a good way." Mingi replied.

"Sure. I'll leave it to you." The older said. Mingi saluted in reply.

"I chose for you two to have longer coats since you're both tall. It compliments your height well." Hongjoong informed.

"Thanks, hyung. You always know what looks good on us." Yunho grinned. One by one, the boys stepped up to the mirror for the tailor and Hongjoong to make adjustments. Hongjoong went last while the others changed out of their outfits.

"Bring in the shoulders a little. It's not sitting right." The captain told the tailor, who nodded. Once he was done, the tailor gathered all the suit pieces from each of them.

"Good job. Can't wait to see the final pieces." Hongjoong said.

"You won't be disappointed, Mr Kim. Have a nice day." With a bow, the tailor left with his assistant in tow.

"Oh! I have to go for a meeting! Send me a list of all the accessories that I'll need to get for the gala." Mingi said to everyone before running out of the house.

"I need a nap." Jongho stood up and excused himself too. Hongjoong went to get a refill of his drink.

"How are the logistics coming, Yunho?" He asked.

"It's going better than before. I've put together everything, according to suggestions that were made during our last meeting. The venue will be 90% done the night. The other 10% is stuff that is best prepared day of." Yunho replied. Seonghwa nodded with a small hum to show his approval.

"Wooyoung and I have been working on invites. The important ones, at least." Seonghwa informed.

"Good." Hongjoong nodded.

"Also, Seonghwa hyung, Mingi and I were testing the new stabilisers earlier. They're not good. Especially for those that are going to use heavier guns." Yeosang updated.

"Then stick to whatever is better and more comfortable for all of you." Hongjoong said.

"I think we should drop this guy as a supplier, he hasn't been bringing in good stuff for us." Yeosang suggested.

"Get our money back first. Then you can do whatever you want." Seonghwa replied and Yeosang nodded.

"Alright, I'm going to get ready for my fight tonight. Sure you don't want to join, hyung?" San grinned. Hearing that, Seonghwa raised an eyebrow at his best friend while Hongjoong cursed.

"Don't give me that look, Seonghwa. And I already told you I'm not fighting, San. I have no temptation to enter the ring. If I'm there, it's only to watch your fight." Hongjoong scoffed, hoping Seonghwa wouldn't nag him about his recovery.

"If there's a slot, I'll fight." Yeosang raised his hand.

"Great. There's always slots." San took his phone out and sent a text to the fight manager at his club.

"We should all go watch tonight." Wooyoung said. Hongjoong had too much work to do to watch the fight. Yeosang and San always won their fights anyway.

"Why don't you guys come celebrate at my club tonight? After the fight." Hongjoong suggested.

"Yay! Free drinks at Hongjoong hyung's." The boys cheered.

"You guys can pay for your own drinks! You'll have winning money to use, no need for free drinks." Hongjoong hissed, making all of them laugh and ignore him.

"In the mean time, back to work." Seonghwa got up and headed to his office. San and Yeosang went to get ready for their fight.

"Game time." Yunho and Wooyoung fist pumped, slinging their arms around each other and going to the computer room to game. Hongjoong chuckled with a shake of his head, the boys were always so chaotic wherever they were. They could talk about serious work one second then change to nonsensical talk.

After you closed your shop, you went home to shower and change. You were not sure what to wear since you weren't exactly active in the clubbing scene.

"It's just drinks." You reminded yourself, digging through your closet to find something appropriate to wear.

"Ah ha!" You took out a dark red body con dress with a small slit on the thigh.

"(y/n)!" Your friends waved to you as you arrived outside the club. Besides Jihoon, there was Nana, who owned a petcare center, Eve, who owned a bakery, and Hyunwoo, who owned a gym.

"Your dress is so cute." Eve complimented.

"I had to dig it out of the depths of my cupboard. I don't go to these places often." You chuckled.

"Because you always bail on us." Hyunwoo pointed out, making you glare at him while the others burst out laughing. You assumed Jihoon made a reservation of some sort because you didn't need to queue.

"Thank god we didn't need to queue. Or else I would have gone home." Nana groaned as she walked beside you. The club was crowded, it seemed like a popular place to be. And judging by the long queue outside, you figured it was always packed.

"This is our table." Jihoon gestured and you all sat down. You didn't realise that Hyunwoo had disappeared.

"First round!" Hyunwoo announced, placing the tray of shots on the table.

"We just sat down and you wanna do shots already?! You're crazy." Nana yelled over the loud music. Jihoon shook his head while Hyunwoo grinned.

"Come on~ You guys can order different stuff after this. It's a welcome drink." He gave out the shot glasses.

"Ah... You're spilling." You clicked your tongue, taking a napkin to wipe the table.

"Cheers!" All 5 of you clinked shot glasses and downed the shot, wincing at how strong the alcohol was. You were not adverse to alcohol but even this was too strong for you to handle.

"Rum and coke?" Eve turned to me after taking Nana's order. You nodded, coughing from the burn in your throat.

"I'll go help her carry everything. And I'm getting a beer." Jihoon went to the bar to find Eve. They came back with the drinks and you received your rum and coke. It was a lot better in taste than whatever Hyunwoo had offered all of you earlier. All of you owned shops along the same row so there was always things to talk about.

"I've recently added a lot of new classes at the gym, you guys should come check it out. Free trial classes." Hyunwoo said, leaning against the back of the couch.

"I think working at the bakery is enough of a workout for me. Plus I have been busy training the two new bakers." Eve groaned.

"This is why I work with animals." Nana grinned.

"But you still have to deal with owners..." Jihoon pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

"Walk ins are still slow but thankfully, I've been getting more online orders. Maybe I should consider getting an assistant soon to help me with arrangements for events." You thought out loud.

"Yeah, you should! You're always staying so late to finish up your orders." Hyunwoo revealed. All your friends turned to you.

"Quiet, you..." You scolded Hyunwoo for exposing you. Jihoon reached over to flick your forehead.

At some point in the night, your friends momentarily scattered around the club. The dance floor looked too daunting and sweaty for you to join so you stayed away. Looking at the bar, you saw people chatting like they're long time friends.

'Going to the bathroom! Be right back. - (y/n)'

You sent a text to your friends and left the table, making sure to put the 'reserved' sign right at the front so no one would take your table, then headed to the restroom.

"Is this the line for the bathroom?" You tapped a girl's shoulder. She turned around and nodded her head with a hum.

"Thanks." You shot her a grateful smile. The queue was moving but it was long so you were stuck there for a while with your full bladder.

"Oh! (y/n) sshi?" Someone called, making you look up from your phone, not expecting a taller person before you. You squinted your eyes a little, trying to remember his name.

"Y-Yunho sshi?" You tried. He nodded his head with a smile.

"Mhmm! Fancy seeing you here." He chuckled. You could feel the attention fo the other girls on you.

"The queue is so long... Come with me." He nodded his head in another direction. You tilted your head in confusion but you wanted to escape all the attention that was on you now. The girls were definitely eavesdropping, seeing someone as handsome as Yunho, talk to someone like you.

"Yunho sshi, where are we going?" You asked, following him. You watched as two men stepped aside, revealing a staircase up to a private area.

"Here. Use the private bathroom down the hall. It's cleaner too." He pointed to the door.

"That's very kind of you but are you sure we can do this? It seems private or like a VIP area..." You looked around with uncertainty.

"You're funny, (y/n) sshi. Don't worry about it, we're not trespassing. Just go then you can return to your friends." Yunho smiled, gently pushing you in the direction of the bathroom.

"Bye~" He waved and headed to another door along the hallway.

"Thank you." You bowed to him and went to the bathroom. He was right, it was a private bathroom and it was very clean.

When you were done with your business, you washed your hands and exited the bathroom. You headed down the stairs, past the two guards that were blocking the way and went back to the booth to find your friends.

"You said you were in the bathroom! We went and you were not there!" Nana held your arm worriedly.

"Ah... Sorry, I bumped into someone I knew and got sidetracked." You rubbed the back of your neck. Hyunwoo and Eve were still mingling while Jihoon returned from the bar with another beer.

"Want some?" He offered.

"No, thank you. Beer makes me sleepy and I can't be falling asleep here." You chuckled.

"You know we wouldn't let anything happen to you, right? If you fall asleep, Hyunwoo and I will just take you back to your house." Jihoon said with a serious tone.

"I know. Thank you." You giggled. You stood up and exited the booth, wanting to go get another drink.

"Want me to come with you?" Jihoon offered.

"No need. It's just there. I'll be right back." You shook your head and went to the bar to order another drink. Of course, you got another rum and coke with lime. With more space at the bar now, you lingered there for a bit longer until you realised your friends might be looking for you.

"Hey." A hand touched your shoulder and you assumed it was Jihoon coming to find you.

"I just wanted to have a drink at the bar. I was going to return to the table." You laughed as you turned around.

~

Series masterlist

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

happy, safe, and warm - a steddie upsidedown au oneshot

Or: the prom fic exactly one person asked for

|| Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson || Carol Perkins/Barbara Holland || ~5k, complete ||fluff || established relationship || prom || romance ||

“Why do you have to do this?” Eddie whines.

He’s been whining since Steve had picked the tulips up from the shop. They’re a bright orange on the edges of each petal, slowly fading into a pale yellow, then green closer to the stem. There’s eight of them, all bundled together with a matching orange ribbon.

Carol’s going to hate them; they’ll clash with her hair.

“It’s tradition,” Steve says, fussing with the ribbon from the passenger seat of Eddie’s van. He’d made the mistake of untying it to rearrange the flowers, and now each attempt at retying ends with a lopsided bow.

“It’s tradition,” Eddie mocks. When Steve glances his way, he finds Eddie glaring out the windshield, bottom lip jutted out in a pout. “You could ask me, you know.”

Giving the bow up as a bad job, Steve reaches his hand out to pat Eddie’s thigh. “I can’t ask you to prom, Baby,” he says, watching in real time as the furrow between his eyebrows lessens at Steve’s use of a pet name.

It’s something he’s noticed. Eddie gives out pet names like they’re going out of style, but every time Steve uses one, his ears tinge pink and he ducks his head, a pleased smile on his face. He gets shy. Steve’s been weaponizing them accordingly.

“The ‘close-minded denizens of Hawkins’,” Steve starts, almost dropping the tulips as he tries to make air quotes around Eddie’s own oft-repeated words. “will start a lynch mob in town square.”

Eddie’s still pouting, but it’s put-upon now, his eyes downright twinkling at Steve parroting his own words back at him. “You still could’ve asked,” he says, but there’s a dimple popping in his cheek.

Steve lets go of his thigh, to tweak his cheek, trailing his fingers against soft skin as he brushes a loose curl behind Eddie’s ear. Eddie shudders the way he always does when Steve’s gentle with him.

“You’re who I’ll be going home with,” Steve says, smiling as the flush on Eddie’s ears travels down the sides of his neck.

He clears his throat and rasps out, “you better be.”

When they pull up to the school, Eddie trails them through the halls, fingers stuffed in his pockets and slumping around like the sad sack he is. Steve pays him no mind; he’s on a mission.

His mission ends when he finds Carol rifling through her locker, talking to Barbara who’s leaning on a closed locker to its left. Carol doesn’t notice Steve’s arrival, but Barbara does, and her eyebrows go up, one after another as she notices the bouquet in his hands and the pouting boyfriend at his side.

Just as she nudges Carol, Steve drops to his knees, flowers raised in supplication. Carol spins around, face dropping into a scowl as she catches sight of the tulips.

“Carol Perkins,” Steve starts, loud enough to be heard over the gossiping that’s already going on around them, “will you go to prom with me?”

Carol’s scowl turns into a downright glare, but then she looks behind Steve’s shoulder and her face drops into something sickly sweet and foreign on his best friend’s face.

“Oh, Steve,” she says, reaching out to grab the tulips Steve knows she hates. “I’d love to!”

Steve stares at her, absolutely flummoxed as he stands back up. But then she pulls him into a hug, the tulips getting crushed between their bodies, so she can whisper, “Tommy looks absolutely pissed.”

She pulls back far enough to kiss him on the cheek, still smiling that foreign smile that makes Steve marginally queasy. The tulips are as misshapen as the bow now, all squashed into each other, petals crumpled.

Steve was right; they do clash with her hair.

Steve opens his mouth, ready to pour more drivel onto the honeyed pile, but Eddie waylays him by reaching between their bodies and snatching one of the crumpled tulips from Carol’s bundle.

He ignores her indignant, “hey!” to spin around and drop to his own knees in front of Barbara where she stands, forgotten against the lockers.

She’s looking down at him like he’s a bug beneath her heel, but that doesn’t seem to deter Eddie at all. He shuffles closer on his knees, damn-near clutching at the hem of her jeans. He leans forward, and for a second, Steve thinks he’s going to kiss the floor at her feet, but all he does is bow his head and ask, “my lady, will you do this humble bard the honor of accompanying him to prom?” like the fucking nerd he is.

Eddie doesn’t look away from the scuffed linoleum of the dirty hallway until Barbara plucks the tulip from his hand with a simple, “you’ll do.”

Barbara turns her back on him to come toward Carol, missing entirely when Eddie leaps up off the floor and pumps his fist like he’s the romantic lead in a coming-of-age movie and he just scored the girl.

The hallway fills with snickering, but Steve’s just standing there smiling, reluctantly endeared.

As Barbara tucks the tulip back into Carol’s bouquet, Carol says, loud enough to carry to Eddie, “I think I got the better end of that bargain.”

Barbara looks Steve up and down, slow enough that Steve freezes like a deer scenting prey. “I don’t know about that,” she says before looping her arm in Carol’s and dragging her laughing girlfriend away.

Eddie shuffles toward Steve, looking somehow shell-shocked. “Girls are scary,” he says, and Steve turns to stand shoulder to shoulder with him, both watching their prom dates walk through the crowded hallway as students part around them.

“I don’t think it’s most girls,” Steve replies, smiling as he watches Carol toss the tulips into the trash, shaking her hand out like she can still feel their stems against her palm and hates it.

God, Steve fucking loves her.

***

Steve’s ass is smudging up her counter as Carol brushes a light dusting of blush against her cheekbones. It’s a familiar feeling by now: Steve’s eyes on her as she primps and primes. He’s done it since she’d started wearing make-up in middle school.

Tommy’d never been interested, but Steve always watches each step of the process like it’s the first time he’s ever seen it, swatching eye shadows against her hand gets the same fascinated attention as applying lipstick. She’d asked him once if he wanted to try it.

He’d shrugged, scooted over on the counter, and closed his eyes as she went through all her usual steps on the perfect canvas of his face. He leaned into each of her touches, let her mascara wand glide against his lashes, puckered his lips for some gloss. But, once she’d finished and he jumped down from his perch to see his new look, he’d grimaced and wiped it all away.

She’d never asked again, but sometimes on special occasions, Steve steals her mascara and shimmies it up his lashes with the same motion she’s sure he’s seen a hundred times by now.

No one ever noticed, but she knows Eddie will. He’ll take one look into Steve’s eyes and lose his fucking mind. The suit won’t hurt either.

“You could’ve gotten ready at your own house, you know,” Carol says, not looking away from her own reflection as she touches up the corners of her lipstick. “It’s not like we’re brides hiding away lest we see the groom before the wedding.”

Steve laughs, jumping down from the corner and standing by her side. He slings an arm around her waist, and tickles beneath her waist the way she hates. “We’re pretty enough to be brides,” Steve says, puckering his lips like he’s posing for a photo, eyes twinkling as he meets her gaze in the mirror.

She rolls her eyes, shoving him aside. They look good together; her in a teal tulle number they’d picked out together, and Steve in his black suit, bought last year on the Harrington’s dime. They’d bought him a teal pocket square to pull their looks together.

“If you ignore the whole groom swap we’re pulling,” Carol mutters.

Steve laughs again. He does that a lot now, more than he ever had before, when it was just her and Tommy and whatever petty bullshit they were on about. She wants to bottle each laugh and hoard them. Proof that Steve Harrington had crawled out of his grave and is still here, happy and whole at her side.

“Well, you want to swap again, just let me know,” he says, smiling.

Carol wrinkles her nose as she asks, “you mean back to you or with Munson?” Sure, they’re friends now, or whatever, but his hair’s a monstrosity and  his clothes are even worse. “Doesn’t matter, either way’s trading down.”

“Hey!” Steve elbows her in the ribs, but the doorbell rings before she has time to retaliate, sending them into an all-out brawl.

They rush from her bathroom, all elbows and limbs, racing down the stairs to be the first one to answer the front door.

No one else is here to do it, her Mom off God knows where. There won’t be any cringey pictures taken along her staircase to be looked back on fondly years later, smiling as she goes down memory lane.

They’ll just have to get pictures once they’ve arrived. Jonathan Byers is going to be there with his fancy camera, and she plans to make him earn his keep.

Steve beats her to the front door by just a second.

There, side by side on her front porch, are Eddie and Barb. Eddie’s in ill-fitting suit pants and a button up shirt, both of which she’s sure he stole from Uncle Wayne. His hair’s up in a cute little bun, but any brownie points he might’ve won by taming his curls is lost entirely by the stupid jean vest he’s wearing and the bulky black boots on his feet.

None of that matters, though. Not when Barbara Holland is standing at his side in a pale pink dress looking so beautiful that Carol’s heart does something embarrassing in her chest. She’s got red lipstick on that Carol looks forward to messing up later.

“You look…” Carol starts, letting her gaze travel up and down Barb’s body, smirking when she sees the way her cheeks have gone blotchy red at her scrutiny. “–gorgeous.”

Barb clears her throat and replies with a sincere, “you, too,” even as she doesn’t meet Carol’s eyes. It’s something Carol’s noticed. Compliments fluster Barb faster than anything else. Carol wants to spend the rest of her life making the other girl flush, wants to spend days in bed finding out just how low the color travels.

Barb clears her throat, and holds out a cluster of flowers. It’s a corsage, twisting together pink, white, and blue flowers and ribbon around a pin. The same ones already on Barb’s wrist. “So we can all match,” she says.

She glances toward the boys, and Eddie’s got a similar arrangement pinned to his vest. She trades a look with Steve and can read the same thought flashing behind his eyes: it’s gaudy as hell.

Carol resigns herself to an evening of ruined aesthetics as she watches Barb bite her lip shyly. She’s going to wear the stupid fucking thing, no matter how ugly. Still, she leans around, eyeing her neighbors suspiciously before ushering everyone in and slamming the door.

It enrages her sometimes, the way something as good as her relationship with Barb has to be hidden behind closed doors and misleading words. She sees the same anger in Eddie’s eyes. But, Barb’s fingers are delicate as she slips the corsage around her wrist, and Steve’s blushing as Eddie leans in unnecessarily close to pin the brocade to his suit jacket without snagging the fabric too badly.

And it’s worth it, to have these three people.

It’s Steve’s side she walks by out to the van parked haphazardly in her driveway. It’s Steve who rushes to open the van’s passenger door for her to slide in, ever the proper date. But Barb just stuffs him into the seat and opens the back door, holding her hand out, palm open, to help her inside.

The van’s surprisingly tidy, all trash removed, and a new, clean blanket laid overtop the stained carpet, and the whole thing smells more like floral perfume than its usual odor of rotting fast food. It’s a nice touch, no doubt Steve’s idea.

She climbs in and settles on the blanket. Barb sits improperly close, thighs touching as Eddie peels out of the drive, something softer than his usual shit pumping from the van’s shitty speakers.

Barb takes Carol’s hand and something giddy churns through her stomach. Sure prom’s stupid and high school’s a waste of time, she was there for that particular Munson rant, but she’s excited to dance with her stupid boys and sneak whatever bits of intimacy she can with her girlfriend.

No matter how ugly her corsage is.

***

As he suspected, prom is an atrocity of the senses. There’s tinsel, and streamers, and a goddamn balloon arch, all in a metallic silver and a muted baby blue, like that’ll make it somehow tasteful.

Because he’s a gentleman, he keeps his arm linked with Barb’s, leading her through the stupid arch into the monstrosity they’ve turned the gym into. But, because he’s smart, he stays behind Carol and Steve so he can look at his ass as they follow them in.

“You’re not subtle,” Barb mutters, digging her nails into Eddie’s arm hard enough that he hisses.

“You’re a terrible witch,” Eddie hisses back before smiling congenially over at her and asking, “Barb, dear heart, should we get our picture taken?”

“Of course, darling,” she drawls back, letting herself be led over to the photo area: a black square marked out with tape on the ground, and an even gaudier balloon arch for couples to stand within.

Jonathan, of all people, is standing there, camera settled around his neck, already looking sleepy despite the night having only just begun. Eddie stands slightly behind Barb, letting his arm settle around her shoulders as they both face Byers, waiting for him to finish fiddling with his camera and get on with it. “Where’s your worst half, Johnny Boy?” Eddie asks, grinning when Jonathan glares at him.

In clear retaliation, Jonathan doesn’t warn them before clicking the shutter on his camera, blinding them both with the sudden flash. “At the punch bowl,” he replies before shooing them away with a wave of his hand. “Now, go bother her. I’d like to go home sometime tonight.”

Eddie gasps, and says, “But Byers, this is supposed to be the best night of our lives!” but doesn’t resist as Barb pulls him out of the way, making room for Carol and Steve to take what will no doubt be a much more photogenic picture.

Just watching the smile bloom on Steve’s face, picture-perfect and gleaming white, makes Eddie’s heart tremble in his chest. He wants to reach out, wants to smooth the lapels of his suit down just as an excuse to touch. He plucks the ties that bind, and smiles when Steve turns toward him just as the flash goes off.

He loves Barb, she’s like the younger sister he never, ever wanted, but as Steve makes his way toward them, he wants to shake her off. There’s just something about Steve in this suit that makes him desperately glad he’d rescued it from the Harrington house after the great disowning of 1985.

“You did that on purpose,” Steve accuses, brushing their shoulders together and smiling as he pulls their connection right back, but harder, so Eddie stumbles just a little toward him.

“Who, me?” Eddie asks, barely noticing as Barb lets go of him to go talk to Carol. Eddie’s leaning toward Steve, can’t even help but tilt forward, a flower trying to leach out every bright beam from the sun.  “I would never do that, Stevie.”

And it’s only then, faces improperly close, that Eddie realizes that Steve’s already lush eyelashes are darker and longer than ever, making his eyes pop. Eddie bites his lip and takes a step back before he does something monumentally stupid like kiss him.

“You? Of course not,” Steve replies, still smiling that dangerous smile. Eddie’s blood boils in his veins.

“Uh, Barb dear?” he calls, holding his hand toward her without breaking eye contact with Steve. “Shall we dance?”

He doesn’t look away until Barb takes his hand and bodily pulls him toward the dance floor, brushing past gyrating bodies until they’re in the thick of it. “You’re going to get yourself killed, Munson,” she says, her arms going around his shoulders, his around her waist as they shuffle, keeping enough room for Jesus between them.

“I know,” Eddie whines, leaning closer to whisper to her, probably barely audible past the noxious music blasting through the room. “But he’s wearing mascara, Barbie. Mascara.”

“Oh, mascara, you poor baby,” she snorts, slapping at his shoulder hard enough to sting. “Did you see Carol’s dress?”

Frankly, Eddie hadn’t–too caught up in Steve’s eyes, and Steve’s perfect hair, and Steve in that fucking suit. But he dutifully cranes his neck around the dance floor until he finds Carol and Steve over by the punch bowl. He gets a vague impression of blue before his attention’s caught by the hold Wheeler’s got on Steve’s arm as she laughs.

“Hold that thought,” Eddie says, dropping Barb like a hot potato to march over to the punch table and do–something.

“Wheeler,” Eddie says, interrupting whatever the hell she was saying mid-word. She glares as he shoves himself between her and Steve, dislodging her hold on Steve as he wraps his arm around his shoulders in a passably platonic manner. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“At prom?” she demands, no longer smiling. She takes a sip out of whatever horrible concoction is in her cup, and by the way she grimaces at the taste, a few more swallows and she’ll be three sheets to the wind.

Eddie ignores her, turning his back and taking Steve along with him as he ladles a cup full of his own spiked punch before offering it to Steve. He takes a sip–the liquid paints his lips a tantalizing red that has Eddie’s brain flashing danger signs in his head.

“Well, this has been fun,” Eddie says, not looking away from Steve’s mouth, “but I’ve got to talk to Stevie here for a second.”

“Do you?” Steve asks, smirking as he takes another sip, Adam’s apple bobbing obscenely in his throat.

“Yah,” Eddie says, eyes trained on Steve’s neck. Carol clears her throat pointedly and Eddie shakes his head like a dog, and finally looks away from the delectable sight before him, dropping his hold on Steve’s shoulder to shuffle back over to Barb. “Uh, no? Of course not, that would be–” He trails off, making the mistake of looking back over to Steve just in time to watch Steve bite his lip, “–uh, weird? It’d be weird.”

Barb sighs, but loops her arm in Eddie’s as if she’s going to keep him in place. “Carol, control your date.”

Carol laughs, reaching up to pinch Steve’s cheek. “This date?” she asks, meeting Eddie’s gaze as she reaches up on her tippy-toes to plant a dry kiss against his cheek. “There’s no controlling him.”

Steve smirks right along with her–two, evil peas in their evil pods. Eddie just wishes the look on Steve’s face wasn’t working on him.

“Barb, please,” he begs, clutching her for all he’s worth.

She sighs again, but dutifully pulls him away. “You’re a mess,” she says, leading him over to one of the vacant tables on the outskirts of the dance floor. “I can’t believe you thought this was a good idea.”

Eddie settles into a chair, pouting across at Barb as she sits on the chair to his left, arms crossed over her chest to really show how dissatisfied she is with him.

“I didn’t,” he whines. “I’ve met myself! This one was all Steve.”

“What was me?” Steve asks, and Eddie jumps. Steve settles into the empty seat on his right, immediately hooking his ankle with Eddie’s and playing footsie with him beneath the cover of the gaudy silver tablecloth.

Eddie groans and lets his head drop to its inexplicably sticky surface. It’s going to be a long night.

***

Barb should have known she was destined for babysitting duty the moment Munson had asked her. Overall, the boys are pretty good about keeping at least the illusion of friendship shrouding their romance, but this is different–Steve’s in a suit. Apparently that’s all it takes to unravel him.

As if Carol isn’t wearing a dress that swoops low enough to show a tantalizing window of cleavage, and a split up the side of the skirt that shows a teasing amount of thigh when she drags Steve away from their chosen table to dance.

“You’re just as bad as me,” Eddie says, and it’s only then that she realizes they’re both slumped into their chairs, watching their respective partners dance.

“No one’s as bad as you, Munson.”

He snorts, nudging their shoulders together without tearing his gaze away from the dance floor. She can’t even blame him–Carol and Steve are very clearly putting on a show now, with how close they’re dancing.

“They look good together,” Eddie says, something undefinable in his voice. She thinks it might be jealousy, but when she glances over at him, he’s smiling, small and soft. “Don’t you think?”

She looks back at the pair. The top of Carol’s head barely reaches Steve’s shoulder, so it’s tipped up against his chest so she can smile up at him. He’s looking down at her, all hard lines as he holds her close.

They’re beautiful, put together perfectly and outshining all the glitter in the room.

“Can you imagine them dating?” Barb asks, grinning as Eddie throws his head back and laughs, finally looking away so he can lean over and smack her in the shoulder.

“Right? They’d kill each other over a hairdryer on like, day one.” he says gleefully.

“And that’s different than usual?” Barb asks, smiling over at him just so she can watch him snort.

“Nah, they’re like cats scratching out each other’s eyes at every sleepover.”

Barb throws her head back and laughs, feeling light, bubbly, happy. As if summoned by the sound, Carol’s arm slips down her shoulder, running over the bare expanse of her arm lightly enough to make her shiver.

“You two look cozy,” she says, leaning into Barb’s face so she can wriggle her eyebrows suggestively at her.

Barb nods, schooling her features into a grim line as she says, “it’ll be a summer wedding,” just to watch Carol cackle.

“See, Steve?” she cries as Steve trots over, precariously holding refilled cups for each of them. “Groom-swapping, just like I said!”

“Does that make me a groom?” Barb asks, smirking when Carol’s face flushes ever so slightly. It’s not easy to fluster her, never has been, so every little tell is a victory.

“Does that make me a wife?” Eddie asks, grinning as he apparently skips through the wedding entirely to land somewhere on happily married. As someone who’s spent more than ten minutes in their presence, she isn’t surprised.

No matter how much Steve’s evolved since that fateful house party, deep, deep down, he’s just as much of a shit-stirring prick as Carol is. So, she’s not surprised when he waits until Eddie’s mid-sip to reply, “husband, actually.”

Eddie chokes on his punch; Barb reaches over and smacks him on the back repeatedly until he coughs it all down. He’s staring at Steve like he’s never seen him before, cheeks splotching an unbecoming red. His voice’s all raspy when he says, “Should we go?” he looks between them all, eyes beseechingly wide. “I think we should go.”

Barb glances over at the giant clock on the gym’s wall, partially obscured by the streamers tacked to the ceiling. “We’ve barely been here for thirty minutes,” she says, squinting to try to make out where the big hand is pointing.

“You didn’t even want to come!” Eddie hisses, which isn’t strictly true. She’d wanted to see Carol in her dress, had wanted to hang out with her friends. It’s just all these other people she wasn’t happy about.

“We haven’t even finished our drinks,” Steve cuts in, lip pouted out.

Eddie, not to be deterred, snatches his cup back up and drains it in a few quick swallows before smacking it down on the table and wiping the punch where it had dripped down his chin with the back of his hand.

“Get a room,” Carol mutters, and when Barb follows her line of sight, she sees Steve, pupils blown as he watches Eddie like he’s a predator about to pounce on its prey.

“Time to go,” Barb says, standing up before grabbing Eddie’s arm and hauling him out of his chair.

Everyone else falls in line, and they all rush through the gym into the warm night air. Aside from a few burnouts smoking, the parking lot’s deserted, the only sound the music still audible even through the closed doors.

“I’m driving!” Carol calls, and then she’s off, cackling as Steve chases after her.

“You don’t even have a license!” Steve cries, trying to snatch the back of her dress, but even in heels, she beats him to the van and they scuffle in front of the driver’s side door, trying to push each other away from it.

“Does she really not have a license?” Eddie asks, still walking beside her. When Barb nods in confirmation, Eddie squawks, “she drove Stevie to the hospital!”

And with that, he’s chasing after them both, leaving Barb alone in the parking lot, walking sedately up to three of her favorite people scuffling like children after a truncated prom. By the time she reaches them, Eddie’s holding his keys above his head and laughing as Carol jumps to try to snatch them from him, never quite getting enough height.

Barb grabs them instead, pushing past all of them to unlock the door herself, sliding into the driver’s seat and cranking the engine as the trio scramble to jump in before she leaves them there. Eddie bitches, but dutifully settles on the blankets in the back with Steve, the pair’s giggling making her decide she won’t be checking her rear-view mirror no matter how many pedestrians she might hit.

Carol slumps in the passenger seat, legs propped up on the dash, making the slit in her dress gape obscenely. Barb doesn’t look that way either—she just drives the familiar streets until she’s pulling into Carol’s driveway.

She doesn’t turn off the van, doesn’t say anything as she rounds the front of the van to yank the passenger door open and scoop Carol out by the waist as the other girl laughs. She puts her down immediately, conscious even now of eyes that could be peeking through their neighbors curtains.

“Bye, Barbie dearest, best prom date in the world!” Eddie calls before she hears the sound of both doors they’d left open slamming closed and the van peeling out of the drive with Eddie’s usual reckless abandon.  

“I guess you’re coming in then,” Carol says, unlocking her front door and stepping through.

Barb follows her in, and barely closes the door behind them before she’s on her, arms wrapping around Barb’s waist, pulling them flush from the toes of their feet to where Carol’s face ends up tucked into her chest.

“You wanna slow dance?” Barb asks, already encircling Carol in her arms and pulling her even closer, swaying to an imaginary beat neither of them can hear.

“I can think of something else slow we could do,” Carol whispers, tilting her face up to smirk at Barb as her fingers trail slowly up Barb’s thigh, barely a tickle through the silk of her dress. “We’ve got all night. Might as well make it special.”

In the safety of Carol’s empty house, Barb scoops up her laughing girlfriend and hauls ass up the stairs, ready to make this a prom night they’ll both remember, and never ever ever be able to tell Steve and Eddie’s kids about.

Across town, she’s sure her favorite boys are doing the same, but as she drops Carol onto her unmade bed, Barb elects not to think of them for the rest of the night. There are better things to focus on, right here in front of her.

***

They’re quiet as the van trundles away from Carol’s house. Steve curls in his seat, turning to watch Eddie tap against his steering wheel along to the beat filtering quietly from the tape deck. His rings glint every time they drive under a street light, hypnotizing Steve.

“See something you like?” Eddie asks, looking away from the road long enough to throw a sideways grin Steve’s way.

He reaches out across the distance between them—these scant inches still too far, and runs his chilled fingers over Eddie’s rings until Eddie lets go of the wheel and links their hands, their rings clacking together. Steve kisses the back of Eddie’s hand because he can, because it always makes Eddie blush, even if the interior of the van’s too dark for him to see it right now.

“Always do,” Steve replies, curling up further in his seat, pulling his legs up to his chest.

All the buildings blur past out the window, casting an unreal haze over Hawkins until Eddie pulls into Forest Hills and parks in front of the dark trailer. Everything comes into focus again, as Steve unlinks their hands to follow Eddie up the stoop, and into their home.

Home.

It still takes Steve by surprise sometimes at the most unexpected times. Home is a place with people in it. People who accommodate all the oddities that have piled atop him since his time in the upside down, whether it’s nightmares, or body aches, or the way he still gets tired quicker now than he had before.

Eddie shrugs his battle vest off, leaving him just in his suit, and it looks odd, somehow, like he’s playing dress-up in Wayne’s clothes now that he’s removed his own personal touches to the outfit. Steve smiles, charmed. He steps up to Eddie until their shoes knock together, winding his arms around Eddie’s waist beneath the suit jacket, only the thin fabric of his button up separating them.

“Did you have fun, Angel?” Eddie asks, wrapping his arms around Steve in turn and pulling them even closer together.

“Mmmhmm,” Steve hums. And he had. Even if they hadn’t stayed long, he’d got his picture taken, danced with his best friend, had all the stereotypical prom experiences. Except—“We didn’t get to dance.”

Eddie jumps back like he’s been electrocuted, smiling manically at Steve before rushing into their bedroom. Before Steve can even complain, he hears the quiet whir of the tape deck beginning to play, and Eddie’s metal music—is it Dio?—begins cranking out of their bedroom.

Eddie rushes back over to Steve, already shaking his head like a wet dog as Steve laughs at him but bops right along.

“I was thinking more like a slow dance,” Steve says, but he can’t even pretend he’s not having fun as Eddie finally arrives back at his original place in front of Steve.

“You want slow?” Eddie asks, arms around Steve’s shoulders as Steve clutches at his waist, drawing them flush together. “We can go slow.”

“To this?” Steve asks, laughing, as Eddie rocks them incrementally back and forth, jarringly off from the upbeat tempo of the song.

 “C’mon, Stevie,” Eddie croons, nuzzling his face into Steve’s neck and nipping at the skin there just to make him laugh. “Dance with me.”

Steve sways along with him, always ready to follow Eddie anywhere he leads. Eddie hooks his chin over Steve’s shoulder and pulls him even closer, like he’s going to hollow out a place in his ribcage and stuff Steve inside.

There, in the safety of their home, Steve Harrington dances with the man he loves, sheltered in his arms—happy, safe, and warm.

[magpiepills]

Austin, Texas On A Rainy November Saturday, 2002

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Joel Miller x f reader

Word count: 750

Summary: the beginning of Joel’s obsession with you.

Warnings: full delusion. PIV no y/n no editing, no proofreading, but with approval from a horny focus group. Quick and dirty, some feelings, some want, dare I say, romance?? Don’t get used to it.

A word from the author: idk, man. Don’t ask questions, ok?

Masterlist

Turgid Members

You and Joel have mutual friends. You hang out sometimes, you’re in someone basement drinking, watching movies, whatever, everyone is having fun, he touches you a lot, your arms, your shoulders, your hip when he’s walking by, really playful, you’re both a little drunk maybe, he gets more frisky and starts play wrestling with you, you’re into it, laughing, pinning each other, then he kisses you and suddenly you can feel that he’s hard. You sneak off to another room alone, and make out while he’s got his hand down your pants. He texts you the next morning. Wants to get brunch.

Brunch turns into a museum date. He’s very touchy. Holding your hand, arm around your shoulder, your waist, wrapping his arms around you while you look at paintings, he kisses your neck. You don’t even know how much time has passed. You leave the museum and he asks you to come over. He says he can make pasta. You walk to his apartment. He boils water while you look at his books and whatever else he has out. You’ve got similar taste. He makes simple pasta, apologizes it’s not fancy, you eat on his couch, he remembers he has wine. He’s got a record player, just got it, it’s on the floor. You both sit there and he picks something you love without you telling him. He’s looking at you. You look at him and feel a little flushed at the attention. He kisses you, pulling you close, then easing you back onto his nice rug. He leans over you, kisses you just the way you like while he strokes your body. Your belly, your ribs, your hip.

He’s in love with you. He can’t say it because it’s too soon. He kisses your neck instead. He pops the button of your jeans. Eases them open and scoots down between your legs. He kisses your belly, down as far as he can, groans when you twist his hair in your fingers. He can’t wait any more. He sits up and yanks your pants down, taking your underwear with them, and

Pushes your knees up, letting him see how wet he’s made you. He exhales, “fuck,” and unbuttons his own jeans, pushing them down just enough to take his cock out. It’s big and thick and uncut, and you reach out to stroke it. He covers his hand with yours, showing you how he likes to be touched. He leans down to kiss you, his hand at the back of your neck. Now that you’ve seen his cock, you’re preoccupied with fucking him. You pull him back down on top of you, your legs around his waist. He thrusts against you, sliding against your pussy, whining at how big he feels. You think you could come just like that, with him gliding his fat cock against your clit, letting it catch at your dripping, clenching entrance. You’re there. You’re already coming just from that, and as you come he pushes into you. He grinds deep and slow, making you feel fuller than anyone else ever has. You’re holding on to him, grabbing at his back, his hair, his biceps, and he fucks you through it slowly. When it passes, he picks up the pace. He fucks you harder and faster and shoves your shirt up your chest. You pull the cups of your bra down so he can suck your nipple into his mouth. His mouth is hot and his teeth scrape against your nipple, just enough to make you whine. He likes all the sounds you’re making, especially the way you’re crying his name. He wants you to like him so badly. He angles his hips to grind against your clit. Keeping a steady rhythm until he can feel you come again. Your body feels like jelly.

He’s close. He can’t hold back any more. Your mouth is on his neck, and he’s pumping inside you. You can feel the pulsation of his cock and he thrusts deep one last time. For a little while you stay just like that. You’re both panting and a little giddy. He kisses you again before he pulls out. When you’ve cleaned up, he asks you to stay, but you really can’t. You have to get home. He takes you in his car, but holds your hand while he drives. Kissing your knuckles and telling you how it was so nice to spend the day with you and he hopes it’s not too soon to see you again tomorrow.

[felassan]

Polygon: 'How Dragon Age: The Veilguard’s writers decided each companion’s romance arc'

Rest of post under a cut due to spoilers.

“There’s so many different flavors of romances with the characters that even if one doesn’t work for you, one of them I think is likely to,” creative director John Epler told Polygon. “But they’re so tied to the character arcs that they become part of that character development as opposed to ‘and also you can romance them on the side.’” For instance, Epler said, Bellara’s romance is purposefully awkward and stilted. (“As Bellara’s writer, I’m very familiar with it,” he added.) “It’s clearly somebody who doesn’t see themselves as someone people are going to want to romance,” he said. “And so one of my favorite things is paying Bellara a compliment, and she takes it in the most awkward [way]. Because she herself as a character, and something you see through her arc, has these issues with how she sees herself, especially after what happened in her past. And so that romance kind of plays off of that as somebody who does have, I wouldn’t say necessarily low self-esteem, but has issues with self-regard. This is how that romance goes, especially if they are themselves a very awkward character.” Meanwhile, Lucanis — who joins the party after you rescue him from an underwater prison where he was tortured for a year after someone in his inner circle betrayed him — has a long road ahead of him in terms of opening up and letting others in. (That also means the results of one big early game choice might cut him off entirely.) “[He] has an arc that’s very much about family and letting people get close and seeing what happens,” said Epler. “And so with his romance, you get more of a slow burn where it doesn’t feel like you’re ever getting quite as close to him as maybe you want until the very end.” In addition to the player-chosen romance arcs, some companions you haven’t chosen to romance might enter romantic relationships with one another (or in the case of one character, with an NPC that isn’t in your party). This isn’t the first time non-romanced party members get together: A fan favorite, for example, is Qunari mercenary Iron Bull and Tevinter mage Dorian Pavus in Dragon Age: Inquisition. But Veilguard has more opportunity than ever before for these side romances to blossom. It all came down, once again, to what made sense for these characters’ own arcs. Bellara doesn’t romance anyone outside of Rook because, as Epler said, she is a “very focused person with a very specific obsession.” Romance isn’t exactly on the top of her mind. For Taash and Harding, however, a romance made perfect sense — both characters navigate accepting who they are and how that fits in with what they thought they knew about the communities and cultures they hail from."

“I think one of my favorite parts of that arc is how much compatibility comes through as you go through their arcs and you realize these are two people […] broken in ways that are so complementary to allow them to heal each other,” said Epler. “They end up developing this very lovely relationship, lovely romance that makes sense for the both of them.” Players might understandably want to go into the game without any spoilers about what characters might get together. But if you’re heading into your second playthrough and you already know more about what the characters’ relationships with one another look like, making decisions might take on a whole new level of significance. That was definitely the case for game director Corinne Busche. “What I love about those developments is that it really gives us some interesting and compelling decision-making about the choices and the consequences within the game,” she told us. “[The relationships] have an extra level, I think, for the decision making. I don’t want to get into spoilers, but there was a moment where I set the controller down and had to go, Oh my God, how can I possibly make this decision knowing what I know of these two characters and how they feel about each other? Oh, it just really makes it hit.” There’s a lot of emphasis on the inter-character relationships in Veilguard. Not only is there the usual party banter while out and about in the world, but you can also stumble upon conversations between characters back at your home base, mitigate disagreements between them, and read codex entries about their book club meetings, cooking rotation, and other things. It makes sense that writing interactions between these companions might spark some ideas for the writers. “It really does come down to who makes the most sense for these characters and who as the writers we are excited about pairing up,” said Epler. “Because I think something people forget is […] well, it’s not technically fanfiction. It’s the same impetus that drives fanfiction where you’re like, Who are the characters we love the most and who do we want to see together? Who do we think makes the most sense as a couple? And then playing with that and seeing if it actually does make sense.”

[source]

[ramblinscramblin]

Hi :)

I saw your ask box was open.

Can I suggest the merc falling asleep on their crushes shoulder during movie night? And when they wake up, they are alone with their crush who strikes their hair or cheek or something like that?

→Falling asleep on their crushes shoulder!

Genre: fluff, GN reader

Characters: Sniper, Engineer, Solider

This asker specified in a separate ask that it would be okay if I only did these three, unfortunately I think for now I’ll stick to just these three because I actually ended up getting a bunch of asks and didn’t want to overwhelm myself too quickly. Very grateful for all the submissions btw! Anyhow enjoy!

Sniper

He would have to be seriously sleep deprived to let this happen.

Sniper his hyper aware of his surroundings at all times, him “accidentally” brushing against something or someone is rarely ever just that.

He’d be hyper aware whenever sitting next to you, always ensuring there was enough space as to not accidentally touch. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or seem unprofessional, he already felt bad enough for having feelings for you.

To avoid leaning on you he just hung his head forward, falling asleep in the most uncomfortable position you have ever seen. But long nights of tossing and turning in his van had finally caught up and he was out like a light.

(Maybe it happens on accident, or maybe by your intervention he ends up leaning his head against your side. Oh no, what a terrible fate!)

He looks so calm and peaceful, so even long after the movie ended you decide to just keep quiet and let him sleep.

Eventually however he begins to stir, and wake with a soft sigh.

Freezes the second he realizes he’s against your side and under your arm. Like total deer in headlights, goes rigid.

He looks up at you to start spouting apologies and get off you, but instead with your free hand you just tenderly move a strand of hair out of his face with a smile.

His heart is beating out of his chest in an instant, and he quickly looks away to hide his burning face. Will not say anything from that point forward, and you choose to do the same, keeping the quiet ambience intact.

He might turn tail and run off or he might just stay, it honestly depends on the nature of your relationship up until this point. How close he views the two of you already.

If he lets a good thing be and just stays, he won’t talk about it or acknowledge it ever again. And if any of the mercs bring it up (which let’s face it, they will) he will deny it to the ends of the earth.

Thinks about it constantly, like constantly. He won’t be able to face you with a straight face for the next few days.

Engineer

Engie definitely ended up next to you on purpose, his passes at romance are typically pretty low-key, just sitting next to you is enough!

During movie nights he almost always pretends it’s just the two of you, making jokes about the movie while being shushed by the other mercs.

Tonight though it was a calming feel good movie, he couldn’t really think of anything to make you laugh so he ended up just sort of dozing off.

Him resting his head against your shoulder though is a happy accident, he didn’t mean it, but neither of you are mad about it.

I imagine that Engie is a super deep sleeper, once he’s out he’s out. So realistically you know you could probably sneak out from under him without waking him, but you’re not about to do that.

The first thing he goes to do when he wakes up is apologize for drooling.

But before he gets the chance you tenderly take your thumb as graze it over his cheek, smiling softly.

He freezes at first, heart caught in his throat.

But he gets his footing quickly, and starts “sorry for drooling on you darlin’” he said trying to break the ice a little bit.

“It’s okay,” you say taking a deep breath turning your attention back to your book “I don’t mind.”

He stays, getting nice and cozy beside you. It will likely become pretty standard practice between the two of you, he’ll shoo away any of the other mercs who might make fun.

This is the catalyst for him confessing to you for sure.

Solider

Solider is attentive at all times, if he falls asleep on your shoulder it is 100% on purpose.

Restless during movie nights, constantly (and loudly) interrupting the movie to ask questions or point out impossibilities. Doesn’t get suspension of disbelief.

Does enjoy cozying up to you though, the other mercs caught wind that he is calmer and quieter if sat next to you, so it became pretty ritual.

“This movie doesn’t make any sense! I’m going to sleep!” He loudly proclaimed to the group, earning a few annoyed groans and grunts from the other mercs. Promptly resting his head on your shoulder, praying you don’t shoo him away, or become uncomfortable.

Kind of dips in and out of sleep, kind of has trouble getting completely comfortable, and eventually wakes back up to find the two of you alone. Definitely sort of sheepish once it’s just the two of you, may pretend to be asleep.

Instead of insisting he get up you just sort of scratch gently at his scalp, comforting him as you guys enjoy a domestic moment together alone.

Might confess his feelings on the spot, might not really depends on his mood.

Doesn’t get up for a long time, an action that’s probably wholly your idea cause your arm is falling asleep.

Won’t be shy about it, but likely won’t bring it up again afterwards, definitely doesn’t enjoy any of the jokes anyone might make.

Is not opposed in the slightest to doing that again, pretends to be chill about it tho.

Eek! My first ask, I’m so grateful this was fun to write! My favoritism for Sniper really shows ^^’ whoopsssss

[affableramen]

pantalone x stubbornly poor reader according to this beautiful request

angst with an open ending; romance elements; pathetic old man

dear anon, i hope you like the final result of this beautiful project. hopefully you won’t be angry at me for i altered the idea to my preference.

Pantalone is circling you around with long steps, but despite him wearing heels, his pacing also remains quiet. 

“I take it you did not expect me in your tiny shabby apartment today.”

“No, not at all, sir.”

You can call him ‘sir’ as much as you would like, but the both of you know how much of disgust you harboured to this insignificant rich man, who did everything in order to seem a perfect socialist, but only you knew how fake he truly was. But keeping the faces up you wouldn’t permit yourself simply looking at him in an offensive way, it would be improper. And it would be perilous too, considering the fact this man is right now in your home.

“Tell me, aren’t you tired of being used? Being helpless?” He stops right there, though his voice keeps on raising a tickling sensation against your neck. “Your destitution does no good to you, it’s sickening and makes you look ill. What I offer you…”

Pantalone turns to face you, his eyes half-lidded as he pronounces that:

“I offer you help. Escape your misery with just one simple action.”

“What action?” You ask him bluntly, sensing unevenness.

“One kiss shall it cost.”

“A kiss… to cure my financial issues? I highly doubt that.”

Pantalone leaned slightly closer, his eyes looking up and down your face—going all way from your eyes to you neck, that is covered with a thin, cheaply-looking teal scarf.

“You don’t believe me?” You close your eyes; his breath is found light against your ear.

He finds purchase in your hand.

“So destitute, yet so stubborn.” He takes your hand, and you let him, unwillingly though. He knows it, he sees the bewilderment in your eyes. You don’t know what to do, how to act and what to say. But Pantalone only brings your hand to his lips and kisses the top of it, his dry lips are unbelievably soft on your skin. There’s a light smile tugged on his lips, almost unnoticeable; though you see it, at such proximity how could you not?

“One. Single. Kiss.” His tone becomes quieter with each passing moment. “Just one.”

His eyes are hooded and he looks at you completely relaxed, yet at the same time his aura is uneven, unsteady and disturbing. He sucks on your hand, pressing his lips everywhere he reaches access to on your hand, before he raises his head and speaks with a particularly raspy voice:

“I can’t any longer bear seeing you drown in your tears, caused by financial struggles. All it will cost to get you out of your misery is one shallow kiss.”

Perplexed still, you do not understand the meaning of his decision. 

“Why just one? Pantalone, I don’t understand.”

“Because you are not even close to be fond of me, yet I have been madly in love with you for some time. I would not take the guilt of forcing you into something you’d do so unwillingly.”

“…you are?”

His eyes are deep and dark on you, but the concept of love does not frame within the banker, at least in your opinion.

“Nothing else shall I ask for, except a single kiss. Nothing else, my dear.”

You look down—he doesn’t understand the consequences at all. He must have been too rational of a man.

“You see, if I kiss you with this mood, it will only be a fake kiss. And the both of us will regret it.”

A frown takes over his expression, the usual icy glare returns to his eyes. 

“Believe me, Y/N, I won’t ever regret a kiss with you.”

“Wouldn’t you prefer a kiss from someone who is equally affected by you? What’s the point of kissing someone you don’t love?”

“That is not the question I can answer. Y/N, please, you’re making all of this sound more pathetic than it already is. I’m aware you don’t hold a single ounce of affection towards me, but let me settle your debts, all I ask back is a mere kiss. Doesn’t it make a good trade for you?”

“It makes a hideous trade.”

Yet you take a step closer to him. Pantalone studies your actions carefully, he does not miss a single chance to admire your pristine, unruined beauty. You place your hands onto his cheeks not exactly earnestly, more like this is but a torture to you. Pantalone responds to you, pushing himself slightly forward, his lips parted and his eyes shut. Only now you can notice how long his eyelashes are, and how his skin is imperfect despite all charming rich gentleman claims.

You force yourself to crash onto his lips, and he accepts it willingly, taking your lips first greedily back, and then shifting it more to the softer side. No matter how fake you call it, it makes his being glow of happiness and excitement. It is still a kiss from you, on top of everything else. His arm snakes aroung your waist, the other hand finding purchase in your hair. He doesn’t let a single moment go to waste and keeps kissing you deeply and passionately, you swear to feel his taste on your tongue.

You pull away the first with a confused and pensive look on your face. Pantalone’s expression is read like a book, you don’t need to be an experienced sort of lady to understand what that kiss meant for him and what effect it had on him. On your part, you don’t know anymore whether the kiss was fake or wielded true feelings.

Abruptly, Pantalone adjusts his glasses, pushing them onto his nose firmly and exhales quietly. His breath seems shaky, but his inner world is shattered.

“Money is yours. I shall not postpone my departure any longer. I’ve already abused the generosity of your home.”

He turns away from you and escapes the apartment. Your bank account is found filled with money, but you don’t give it much of your attention right now. With a trembling hand, you touch your lips. A blush spreads over your cheeks.

“It wasn’t so bad.”

Later at night, Pantalone overthinks the happened while smoking a pipe in his garden.

“This was the worst, but the most pleasant kiss in my life. I shall not forget it ever.”

[satori-runa]

—SOLACE

Summary: Your life with your boyfriend goes into the next level.

Tags: Established Relationship, Female Reader, Fluff, Romance, Angst

Words: 8,9k

MDNI IT CONTAINS NSFW ELEMENTS

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

“Guess who.” A familiar, teasing voice whispers close to your ear, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. The words are followed by a warm body pressing into your back, enveloping you in an embrace. Gentle hands cover your eyes, playfully robbing you of your vision as you stand at the counter, finishing the last touches on dinner.

You can already smell the distinct, savory aroma of Sebastian’s favorite meal wafting through the kitchen—a hint of garlic, herbs, and roasted flavors blending into a comforting scent. The anticipation hangs in the air, the food waiting to be served, but now there’s something much more important occupying your attention.

“Hm, perhaps my wonderful boyfriend?” you hum back, leaning into the touch and making no attempt to pull away. There’s a soft giggle from behind you, the kind that melts away any lingering stress from the day. It’s a sound you’ve come to love, filled with genuine affection and a trace of mischief. His hands slide slowly from your eyes, drifting down to rest on your hips. You can feel the way his fingers trace small, lazy circles through the fabric of your clothes, a comforting and familiar touch that sends warmth spreading through your chest. He’s not in a rush, savoring the contact as he pulls you a little closer.

“Right on the first try, good job,” Sebastian murmurs against your ear, his voice low and playful. You can feel his breath ghosting over your skin, and the way he tilts his head, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. His hair brushes against your cheek as he lingers there, pressing a gentle kiss just below your ear.

You’d never expected to find yourself in a relationship like this, one that seemed ripped straight from the pages of a corny romance novel or, as you and Sebastian liked to joke, a scene from a Korean drama. It had all started so randomly, in a way that neither of you could have planned even if you tried.

It was a late summer evening, the kind where the air still clung with warmth from the day, and the sky painted itself in deep shades of purple and pink. You were making your way home after a night out with friends, the alcohol buzzing pleasantly in your veins. The streets were filled with the sounds of distant laughter and cars passing by, but all you could think about was how much your feet hurt and how desperately you needed an Uber to take you home. You fumbled with your phone, trying to order a ride while your vision swam a little from the drinks.

At the same time, nearby, Sebastian was also looking to get home. He’d spent the evening crammed into a quiet coffee shop, buried under textbooks and highlighters, his study session running longer than he’d planned. By the time he packed up and stepped outside, the sky was already dark, and he sighed, knowing the buses had stopped running. He pulled out his phone, searching for a ride back.

Unbeknownst to you both, fate—or maybe just the Uber app—decided to pull you together that night. The two of you ended up standing at the same corner, eyes glued to the little car icon on your screens as it approached. When you noticed him, you raised an eyebrow, confusion muddling your half-drunken state.

“Uh, are you waiting for this one too?” You asked, swaying slightly on your feet. The alcohol made everything a bit fuzzy, your usual filter dulled by the night’s drinks.

Sebastian looked at you, equally confused, but then a smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah, I am… seems like we ordered the same ride.”

You blinked, staring at him as if you were processing the situation in slow motion. Then, without much thought, you shrugged. “Well, there’s room for two. You wanna share?”

He chuckled softly, nodding. “Sure, why not? Looks like the universe wanted us to meet tonight.”

You slid into the backseat together, and as the car started moving, you leaned back, letting out a content sigh. The city lights blurred by outside the window, casting a soft glow on Sebastian’s face. He looked relaxed, his hair slightly messy from running his hand through it too many times while studying. You, on the other hand, felt talkative and loose-lipped from the drinks you’d had earlier. Before you knew it, you were rambling about anything and everything—your favorite movies, a funny story from the night out, even some existential musings on the universe that made him stifle a laugh.

“You’re really something.” He said, amused. His eyes sparkled with a kind of genuine interest that you weren’t used to seeing in strangers.

“I’m not something,” you replied, dramatic and slurring your words a bit. “I’m everything.” You pointed at him with a sloppy grin. “And so are you. We’re all stardust, you know?”

Sebastian gave a playful sigh, shaking his head. “Yeah, stardust… sure.” But there was something about the way you spoke, the unabashed honesty in your drunken state, that made an impression on him. You were a mess, but a charming mess, and it was enough to spark something in him.

When the car finally pulled up in front of his place, you were half-asleep, your head lolling to the side. He glanced at you, contemplating whether to wake you or let you rest. In the end, he gently nudged your shoulder. “Hey, this is where I get off. You alright?”

You blinked awake, rubbing your eyes like a sleepy child. “I’m fine,” you mumbled, even though you clearly weren’t. Before he could say anything more, you leaned closer, squinting at him. “You have really nice eyes, did you know that?”

He laughed softly, cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. “You’re definitely not going home like this.”

You didn’t remember much after that. The next thing you knew, you were waking up in an unfamiliar bed, the sunlight streaming in through pale curtains. Your head throbbed, the telltale sign of a hangover, and as you blinked the sleep from your eyes, you realized you were fully dressed, shoes neatly placed by the door. There was a folded note on the bedside table, written in neat, slanted handwriting.

Good morning! You looked too tired (and drunk) to make it home safely, so I brought you here. Don’t worry, you were a perfect angel. There’s water and aspirin on the nightstand. I’ll be back soon with breakfast—Sebastian.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sweetness of the note, even through the pounding in your head. It felt like a scene straight out of a drama—the handsome stranger, the shared ride, the note left behind. When Sebastian returned with a coffee and a bag of pastries, you were sitting up, still clutching the note.

“You’re awake,” he said, smiling as he stepped inside. “Feeling alright?”

You gave him a look, holding up the note like a piece of evidence. “Alright and not drunk, you're really a gentleman for leaving a note.“

He laughed, setting the coffee down in front of you. “What can I say? I aim to impress.”

From that morning on, it became a running joke between the two of you, how you met in such a cliché way. But as weeks turned into months, the jokes turned into real feelings. What started as a funny story to tell your friends became the foundation of something genuine. And now, here you were, dating Sebastian—the boy who shared an Uber with a tipsy, rambling stranger and decided to keep them around.

“Spacing out again?” Sebastian’s voice pulls you back into the present, his nose brushing against your ear as he nudges you gently. He’s still holding you close, his hands tracing idle patterns along your hips, almost as if he can’t bear to let you go just yet. You hadn’t realized how long you’d been standing there, lost in your thoughts and the warmth of his embrace.

“Hmm, maybe.” You reply, leaning back into him with a soft smile. “Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

He chuckles, the sound vibrating against your back, and you feel the way his chest rises and falls as he breathes. “Lucky, huh? I was about to say the same thing.”

He presses a kiss to your temple before finally releasing you, letting his hands slide away reluctantly. You turn to face him, catching the playful glint in his eyes as he takes in the sight of you, still standing by the stove with a dreamy look on your face.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” you say, gesturing toward the simmering pots on the stove. “But if you keep distracting me like that, we’re going to end up with burnt food.”

“Oh no, we can’t let that happen,” he teases, raising his hands in mock surrender. “After all, it’s my favorite. I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

You roll your eyes fondly and turn back to stir the pot, feeling Sebastian’s presence lingering close by. He watches you for a moment, then reaches around you to grab a spoon, sneaking a taste of the sauce simmering in front of you. He hums appreciatively, savoring the flavor.

“Mmm, perfect.” he says with a satisfied smile. “But it needs one more thing.”

Before you can ask what, he’s leaning in again, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck, soft and sweet. It’s barely a peck, but it sends a shiver down your spine nonetheless. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you as you swat at him playfully.

“Sebastian!” you scold lightly, trying to hide your smile. “You’re impossible.”

He grins, unrepentant. “Impossible? Or irresistibly charming?”

“A little of both,” you admit, shaking your head as you reach for the plates. “Alright, Mr. Charming, if you’re going to be here, at least help me set the table.”

Sebastian nods, slipping easily into a domestic rhythm that the two of you have fallen into over the past few months. He takes the plates from your hands, setting them down on the small table in the corner of the kitchen. It’s a cozy spot, just big enough for the two of you, illuminated by the warm light of the pendant lamp above. He lights a small candle in the center, the flame flickering softly, casting a golden glow that bathes the room in a romantic light.

You bring over the food, setting the dishes down as Sebastian pulls out a chair for you with a flourish, bowing dramatically. “Your seat, my dear.”

“Why, thank you, good sir,” you reply, playing along with a grin as you take your seat.

He settles down across from you, and for a moment, the two of you just look at each other, a soft silence settling between you. It’s the kind of silence that feels full, not empty—a shared moment where words aren’t necessary.

“You really outdid yourself,” Sebastian says after taking his first bite. His eyes light up with genuine delight, and it makes your heart swell with pride. “This is amazing.”

“I’m glad you like it,” you say, watching him enjoy the meal you prepared. You can’t help but feel a rush of affection for him in this moment—seeing him so relaxed, savoring the food with that boyish smile you love so much.

The two of you fall into an easy conversation, talking about your day and sharing little stories. At one point, Sebastian leans back in his chair, looking at you with an expression so soft it almost takes your breath away.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all week since there's barely time with work and studies,” he admits quietly, his voice tinged with a kind of vulnerability he doesn’t show often. “Just… having dinner with you, like this. It feels like home.”

You reach across the table, taking his hand in yours. His fingers curl around yours, warm and secure. “Me too,” you say, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “It’s the best part of my day.”

For a while, you just hold hands, the candlelight flickering between you as you finish your meal. There’s a sense of contentment that wraps around you both like a blanket—cozy, intimate, and full of love.

After dinner, Sebastian insists on helping with the dishes, despite your protests. You end up standing side by side at the sink, elbows bumping playfully as you wash and dry. He steals kisses every chance he gets, brushing his lips against your cheek, your temple, the tip of your nose, making you laugh.

“You’re going to make me drop a plate,” you warn, though you’re smiling so much it’s hard to sound serious.

“Then I’ll catch it,” he promises, pressing a kiss to your temple.

By the time the kitchen is cleaned up, you’re both a little breathless from laughing, your cheeks warm from the shared closeness.

After the dishes are done, you’re both standing side by side, your hands still damp from the soapy water. The kitchen is quiet now, the only light coming from the small candle still flickering on the table, casting a warm, golden glow that dances across Sebastian’s face.

He turns toward you, reaching up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger there, brushing against your skin, and when you meet his gaze, there’s a different kind of warmth in his eyes—something deeper, a tenderness that makes your heart skip a beat.

“You’ve been amazing tonight.” He says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you for this.”

You smile, leaning into his touch. “You don’t have to thank me, Sebastian. I loved doing this with you.”

There’s a beat of silence, where neither of you moves, just holding each other’s gaze. Then, in a single, smooth motion, he steps closer, his hands sliding to your waist. He pulls you against him, the sudden press of his body igniting a spark of heat between you. You can feel the way his fingers tighten on your hips, firm yet gentle, as if he’s anchoring himself to you.

You tilt your head up, your breath catching in your throat as he leans in, his nose brushing against yours. He’s so close now that you can feel the warmth of his breath fanning across your lips, and when he finally kisses you, it’s slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring the taste of you. It starts sweet, almost tentative, but quickly deepens as the hunger between you both grows.

Sebastian’s hands roam up your sides, tracing the curve of your waist before sliding under your shirt. His touch is warm against your skin, sending a shiver through you. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his pupils blown wide with a desire that mirrors your own. “Is this okay?” he asks, his voice husky, almost breathless.

You nod, your own hands slipping under the hem of his shirt, feeling the hard planes of his stomach. “More than okay.” you murmur, and that’s all the permission he needs.

He kisses you again, deeper this time, his tongue parting your lips as he presses you back against the counter. The edge digs into your hips, but you barely notice, too caught up in the feel of his mouth on yours, the way he’s holding you like you’re the only thing in the world. You gasp against his lips when he grips your thighs, lifting you up onto the counter with surprising ease.

“Sebastian.” You whisper, your voice breaking with a breathy moan as his lips trail down your jaw, nipping gently at the sensitive spot just below your ear. He hums in response, his hands squeezing your thighs as he settles between them, the hard press of his body making your heart race.

You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly, and he groans, the sound vibrating against your skin. His kisses grow more heated, almost desperate, as if he can’t get enough of you. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and filled with lust. His forehead rests against yours, and you can feel his breath coming out in short, uneven puffs.

“You drive me crazy,” he admits, his voice rough and raw. His hands slide up your thighs, fingers dipping under your skirt, hooking on the waistband of your underwear. He pauses there, teasing, the pads of his fingers tracing small circles just beneath the fabric. He’s taking his time, savoring the anticipation and the shared intimacy of the moment.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you manage to tease, though your voice is shaky with desire. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, and he lets out a low chuckle, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

“It’s definitely not a bad thing,” he murmurs, capturing your lips again in a kiss that leaves you breathless. He presses himself harder against you, grinding his hips into yours, and the friction sends a wave of heat coursing through your body. You could feel his growing errection between his legs, pressing between your legs and you had to hold back not to rush it. It’s overwhelming in the best way, the feeling of his firm body fitting perfectly against yours.

His other hand slips further under your shirt, fingertips brushing over your bare skin as he tried to unclip your bra under your clothes and he certainly enjoyed it way too much the way he teased you with his slow delicate movements. He then cups the side of your waist, his thumb grazing just beneath your ribs, tracing gentle patterns. When he looks at you, it’s with an intensity that takes your breath away.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, his voice filled with a raw, unfiltered honesty that makes your chest ache. He lowers his head, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the line of your throat. His hands move with purpose now, sliding down to push your skirt up. He glances up at you, silently asking for permission, his expression almost reverent.

You nod, your breath hitching as he kneels in front of you. The sight of him on his knees, his hands gently spreading your legs appart, is enough to make your head spin. He takes his time, pressing soft kisses along your inner thighs, his eyes never leaving yours. There’s something worshipful in the way he looks at you, like he’s savoring every moment, every inch of your skin. Before you knew it, he took the piece of fabric of your lace panties between his teeth, pulling them down your legs, putting them in his own pockets.

“Sebastian…” Your voice is barely a whisper, your fingers tangling in his hair as he hooks your legs over his shoulders, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. He grins up at you, a teasing, almost playful smile, before lowering his head.

The first touch of his lips against your most sensitive spot makes you gasp, your back arching involuntarily. He’s slow and deliberate, tasting you with gentle licks that have your entire body trembling. It’s a different kind of intimacy—one that’s both intense and tender, filled with an unspoken love that takes your breath away.

He takes his time, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes, savoring the way your body responds to him. He holds your hips firmly, anchoring you in place as he explores every inch of you, finding the spots that make you shudder and moan his name. You can feel his hot breath against you, the soft hum of pleasure that escapes him as he loses himself in the moment.

Your fingers curl tighter in his hair, tugging him closer as you struggle to keep your voice steady. “Sebastian… please.”

He groans against you, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your core. He pulls back slightly, just enough to look up at you, his lips glistening, eyes heavy with desire. “I love it when you say my name like that,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with need. „Keep your eyes on me, darling.“

You’re panting now, your entire body trembling as he dives back in, his tongue moving faster, more insistently. The pleasure builds steadily, a wave of heat coiling low in your belly, making you feel like you’re on the edge of something wonderful. He watches your face as he works, taking in every gasp, every moan, as if it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.

You can’t hold back any longer. Your body tenses, your thighs clamping around his head as you reach your peak, crying out his name. He doesn’t stop, riding out your release, his tongue gentle now, coaxing you through the aftershocks.

When you finally come back down, your chest heaving, he presses one last soft kiss against your thigh before standing up. He looks at you with a boyish grin, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Was that okay?” he asks, though his smirk tells you he knows exactly how good it was.

You let out a breathless laugh, pulling him into a kiss that’s sweet and grateful, tasting yourself on his lips. “More than okay,” you murmur against his mouth. “You’re incredible.”

He wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly, his nose nuzzling into your neck as he plants a soft kiss there. “I love you,” he whispers, the words like a quiet promise against your skin.

You smile, pressing a kiss to his temple, your fingers gently stroking through his hair. “I love you too.”

Without another word, he scoops you up effortlessly, his hands strong and sure as he lifts you off the counter. You let out a surprised laugh, clinging to him, your arms looping around his neck as he cradles you against his chest.

“Taking this somewhere more comfortable,” he murmurs, pressing a quick, teasing kiss to your forehead. The look in his eyes is smoldering, filled with an unspoken promise of what’s to come. He carries you through the dimly lit hallway, each step deliberate, the anticipation building between you both. Your heart races, beating in time with his, the air thick with the shared desire that crackles like electricity.

As you reach the bedroom, he nudges the door open with his foot, the soft light from the hallway spilling in and casting a golden glow over the bed. He sets you down gently, his hands lingering on your hips as he leans down to kiss you again. It’s slower this time, a lazy, lingering kiss that’s filled with a tenderness that makes your chest ache.

“You’re too good to me,” you whisper against his lips, your hands already slipping under the fabric of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.

He chuckles, low and sweet, as he pulls back just enough to tug his shirt over his head. “I’m exactly as good as you deserve,” he replies, his voice husky. He tosses the shirt aside carelessly, and your eyes roam over his exposed chest, the play of light and shadow accentuating the muscles there. He looks at you like he’s drinking you in, savoring every detail, every expression on your face.

Your fingers find the button of his jeans, working it open as he watches you with a hooded gaze. He helps you, shrugging out of his pants and kicking them aside, leaving him in just his boxers. The sight of him—flushed, breathing heavily, and looking at you with a mixture of adoration and want—makes a wave of heat wash over you.

You lean back against the pillows, propping yourself up as he climbs onto the bed, his knees sinking into the mattress. He’s on you in an instant, his hands gently prying your shirt off, his lips trailing soft kisses down your collarbone as he peels the fabric away. When you’re bare before him, he pauses, taking a moment just to look at you. The way his eyes drink you in makes you feel cherished, like you’re the most precious thing in the world to him.

“Perfect,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your sternum, then another lower, right over your heart. You can feel the heat of his breath against your skin, the press of his lips sending shivers through your body.

His hands trail down your sides, fingers close between your legs. He raises his eyes to yours, silently asking for permission once again. When you give a small, eager nod, he pushes them in, toying with you, his gaze never leaving yours.

He presses closer, his bare chest flush against yours now, skin against skin. The warmth of him seeps into you, grounding you even as your heart feels like it might burst from the intensity of the moment. You can feel every hard line of his body, the way he fits so perfectly against you, like you were made for each other.

“Sebastian.” you whisper, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. You reach up, cupping his cheek in your hand, and he turns his head to press a kiss to your palm.

“I’ve got you.” He murmurs, his voice filled with love and a gentle promise. He dips his head down, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s slow and deep, his hand, pulled out of you, sliding down your side to grip your thigh, pulling you closer. His other hand roams up your body, fingers splaying out on your chest as he squeezed the skin.

You shiver as he shifts, settling between your legs, the press of his body sending a wave of warmth through you. He grinds against you slowly, the friction delicious, and you gasp into his mouth, your nails digging into his back. He groans, a deep, guttural sound that reverberates through his chest, and you can feel the restrained need in the way he moves.

“Tell me what you want,” he breathes against your lips, his forehead resting against yours as he gazes down at you with an intensity that makes your breath hitch.

“You,” you reply, your voice barely a whisper. “I want you.”

He kisses you again, hard and fervent, his hips pressing into yours in a slow, rolling motion that has you arching up against him, seeking more. You can feel his smile against your lips, a soft, tender curve that’s full of love.

“I’m all yours,” he whispers back, his words like a promise. “Tonight and always.”

He moves slowly, unhurried, taking his time to explore every inch of your body with his lips and hands, like he’s memorizing every curve, every shiver. The room is filled with the sound of your shared breaths, the soft sighs and gasps as he touches you, holds you, loves you.

„Promise I always will.“ Those where his last words before you were able to feel him close to your entrance, his tip stroking you gently before he pushed in.

The next morning came in silence, but it wasn’t the kind you loved. It wasn’t the quiet murmur of the world still asleep, or the gentle hum of life waking up slowly. It was the kind of silence that felt heavy, almost suffocating. The kind that made you realize something was missing before you even opened your eyes.

You shifted, reaching out instinctively to the other side of the bed, expecting the familiar warmth of Sebastian’s body curled up against yours. Instead, your fingers met cold, empty sheets. Your heart sank a little, the small knot of disappointment tightening in your chest.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Mornings were your favorite time together, the one part of the day where you could both be unguarded, lazy, and wrapped up in each other without any of life’s distractions pulling you apart. You loved waking up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee, the sound of the kettle whistling in the kitchen as Sebastian made you breakfast, or the soft kiss he’d press to your forehead before you were even fully awake. It was the sweetest part of your life—those quiet, precious moments that belonged only to the two of you.

But today, there was none of that. Just an empty bed and a lingering chill where his warmth should have been. You opened your eyes, blinking at the soft light filtering through the curtains, half expecting to see him standing there, smiling at you like he always did. But the room was empty.

You sat up slowly, the sheets pooling around your waist, and glanced around as if he might suddenly appear. The pillow next to you was still dented from where he’d slept, but it was cool to the touch now, the scent of him fading away. You pressed your face into it anyway, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply, trying to hold on to that small piece of him for a moment longer.

„Sebastian?“ You called out, hoping for any kind of reaction, your voice filling the room.

It didn’t make sense. He hadn’t mentioned leaving early. He hadn’t said anything about having plans today. Your mind raced with possibilities, each one leaving a hollow ache in its wake. Maybe he’d just stepped out for a bit, you told yourself. He’d be back any minute, you were sure of it.

But as you swung your legs over the side of the bed, the cold floor beneath your feet seemed to echo the emptiness inside you. You wrapped the blanket tighter around your shoulders, trying to chase away the chill. It wasn’t just the cold of the room—it was the cold that came from waking up alone when you’d gotten so used to waking up together. This felt oddly strange.

You couldn’t help but remember the way it usually was. How he’d pull you closer, mumbling half-asleep compliments against your neck. How his fingers would trace lazy patterns on your skin, making you feel like you were the only person in the world. How you’d both lie there for as long as you could, wrapped up in the warmth of each other, talking softly or just sharing comfortable silence.

You glanced at the clock on the nightstand, hoping you were wrong. Hoping maybe you’d just woken up before him, and he’d be back any second, slipping into bed beside you with a sheepish smile and a kiss on your cheek. But the clock told a different story. It was already late—later than he’d ever leave without saying something.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stand up, your legs feeling shaky beneath you. The house felt colder without him here, and the empty quiet of it pressed in on you. You padded out into the hallway, calling his name softly once more, half expecting him to pop his head out from the kitchen, teasing you for being so worried.

But there was no answer. No kettle boiling, no clink of mugs, no smell of coffee in the air. Just the empty echo of your voice.

You leaned against the doorframe, closing your eyes and letting the silence wash over you. The ache in your chest felt heavier now, settling like a stone. It was a small thing, really—waking up alone just once—but it felt like a shadow of something bigger. A reminder of how much you needed him, of how much his presence had become a part of your mornings, your days, your everything.

You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, rubbing your hands over your arms in a vain attempt to warm up. He’d be back soon, you told yourself again. He had to be. He wouldn’t just leave like this, not without a word. He wouldn’t take away the part of the morning you loved the most—the part where you woke up next to him and felt like everything was right in the world.

But as you stood there, staring at the empty hallway, you couldn’t help the small, creeping worry that maybe today was different. Maybe today was the start of a morning you’d have to face alone, a morning without him to hold you and make you feel whole.

And that thought made the quiet feel so much colder.

The quiet stretched longer than it should have, and with each passing second, the doubt in your mind grew. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, but you tried to brush it off. You told yourself it was nothing—Sebastian had probably just gone out to grab breakfast or coffee. It was a Saturday, after all, and the world outside was just starting to wake up. But as you moved through the house, something felt off.

You made your way to the entryway, half-expecting to see him standing there, pulling on his shoes or grabbing his coat. But the spot where his jacket usually hung was empty. The shoes he always left by the door were gone too. You frowned, the empty space making your stomach twist in a way you couldn’t quite explain. Maybe he had left early, maybe to pick up something for breakfast, or maybe to run an errand.

You convinced yourself that’s what had happened. He’d just stepped out. He’d be back soon. You had to believe that. You turned away from the door and walked back through the house, glancing around for any sign of him. The stillness pressed against you like a heavy blanket, and despite your best efforts to remain calm, you couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at you.

As you entered the living room, you caught sight of the bookshelf against the wall. Your eyes narrowed, and your heart began to race. The shelf was slightly askew, the way it was when Sebastian had been messing around with it. But it wasn’t just the shelf that caught your attention—it was the hidden compartment behind it. Your safe. It was slightly open.

You had always hidden it carefully, knowing it was the one place where you kept the money that had become so important to Sebastian and you over the past few months. But now, standing there, you felt a cold shiver race down your spine. You walked over to it, and as you opened the compartment fully, your stomach dropped. The safe was empty. Your heart skipped a beat, and panic surged through you. The money—everything you had been so careful to keep safe—was gone. The only explanation you could think of was that Sebastian had taken it. He had taken everything. Your mind screamed at you, but your body felt frozen, unable to move.

Your breath quickened, and the room around you began to spin. A knot twisted in your chest, suffocating you, and your mind started to race with the worst possible thoughts. Had he really done this? Had he taken everything and left me? Your hands shook as you backed away from the shelf, your mind still desperately trying to make sense of what was happening. You had trusted him, believed in him, and now all you could think of was how everything had felt too perfect—like it had all been a lie. Any kind of trust was lost as you couldn't come up with a single good reason why he should take the money and disappear.

You moved quickly, heart pounding in your chest, darting around the house as if searching for something, anything that would prove you were wrong. You tore through the living room, the kitchen, even the bathroom. But there was nothing—no sign of him, no explanation for what had happened. The silence pressed down harder, and the walls around you seemed to close in, suffocating you with the weight of your thoughts.

Suddenly, the house felt too big, too empty. Every sound, every small creak, seemed amplified in the stillness. You felt like you were drowning in your own panic. Your chest tightened, and your breathing became shallow, erratic. Your vision blurred as the tears began to well up in your eyes. It was all happening too fast, too overwhelming.

You collapsed to your knees on the floor, hands gripping your hair as your mind spiraled. No, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. The thought that Sebastian had taken the money, that he had left you with nothing but confusion and betrayal, shattered something inside you. Everything you had shared—the late-night talks, the laughter, the mornings together—it all felt like a cruel joke now.

"Sebastian!" you screamed, the word ripping from your throat, raw and desperate. "Where are you?"

But there was no answer. Just the emptiness, the silence stretching longer and longer, pulling you further into a dark pit of fear and confusion. You curled in on yourself, hands over your face, tears streaming freely as the weight of it all pressed down on you. How could you have been so wrong? How could you have let yourself trust him so completely, only for him to take everything away in one cruel moment?

The house felt like a prison. Every corner, every empty space reminded you of what you had lost, what had been stolen from you. And as the panic surged, all you could think was that he had left, and you were alone, with nothing but the aching hollow in your chest to show for it.

You cried, helplessly, uncontrollably, the sobs shaking your entire body. Nothing made sense. Nothing could bring you the comfort you craved. And all you could do was scream, hoping for some kind of answer that would never come.

Sebastian woke up first, the quiet morning light filtering through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the room. His gaze immediately landed on you—peacefully asleep beside him. The sight of you, tangled in the sheets with your hair messy from the night, made his heart skip a beat. There was something about you, something that made everything else in the world fade away when he was with you.

He could still feel the warmth of your body against his, the weight of your presence next to him, and the quiet intimacy that seemed to wrap around both of you. The night had been perfect, full of laughter and closeness, but in that moment, as he watched you sleep, something more profound settled in him.

He realized, with a clarity that shocked him, that he didn’t just want this—this closeness, this joy, this love—he wanted all of it. Forever. It was like a light bulb turning on in his head, and it was undeniable. He wanted to spend his life with you. The idea of waking up to this—waking up to *you*—for every day to come filled him with a warmth that he couldn’t ignore.

Sebastian’s chest tightened with a mix of excitement and nerves, the weight of the realization both exhilarating and humbling. He knew, deep down, that this wasn’t just a fleeting thought or a momentary rush of emotion. It was real. He wanted to build a life with you. He wanted to promise you forever, no matter what.

Carefully, he slipped out of bed, trying not to disturb you. The sheets rustled gently as he moved, and he paused, watching you for a moment longer, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He admired how peaceful you looked, how safe and content, lost in dreams. He didn’t want to wake you yet. This moment, this quiet, was just for him.

Sebastian stood, stretching his limbs and glancing around the room. His heart still pounded with the weight of what he was about to do. He knew he had to do it. He had to show you that he wasn’t just saying the words when he said he loved you. He was going to prove it.

Moving quietly to the dresser, he pulled on his clothes, careful not to make any noise. His hands trembled slightly, the excitement of the decision making his heart race. He knew what he had to do, and nothing was going to stop him.

His eyes flicked toward the shelf where you kept your safe, his heart skipping. He had always known about it—he respected it, and he knew it was important to you. But today, today was different. He didn’t hesitate for a second as he opened the shelf, taking out the safe. The contents of the small box—money that had been saved for a future you’d both been dreaming of—meant something far more than just savings now. It was a way for him to take the first step toward that future. The life he wanted to build with you.

Sebastian swallowed hard as he pulled the money out, placing it carefully in his pocket. His chest tightened, but it wasn’t from nerves about what he was doing—it was from the overwhelming realization that he was making the choice to move forward, to ask for forever. He knew he was going to spend the rest of his life with you, and that thought was everything.

He turned, quietly making his way out of the room and into the hallway. The city outside was just beginning to wake up, the soft hum of the early morning a comforting backdrop to his racing thoughts. His mind was focused on one thing now: making sure the ring was perfect, making sure it was everything you deserved. He’d save the money for the rest of your life together later.

But today, today was the start of everything.

Sebastian made his way to the jewelry store, each step feeling more like a confirmation of what he had known all along. He was doing the right thing, and no matter how many details needed to be perfect, all that mattered was the love he felt for you. He had to make sure that the ring was just as unforgettable as the way you made him feel every single day.

As he stepped into the shop, his eyes immediately scanned the selection, his mind fixed solely on one goal. He didn’t need to search for long. The moment his eyes landed on a beautiful, delicate ring, a diamond set against a simple gold band, he knew it was the one. He imagined the way it would look on your finger, how it would symbolize everything he wanted to say but didn’t always have the words for.

With a deep breath, he picked it up, his fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the box. He paid, his hands shaking slightly with anticipation, excitement thrumming through his veins.

All he had to do now was get home to you. To show you how much you meant to him, how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

The entire time he was gone, his mind was consumed with thoughts of you. He knew when he returned, it wouldn’t just be another ordinary morning. It would be the start of a new chapter. A chapter that began with love, and ended with forever.

But he never returned.

The metallic scent of the Hadal Blacksite hung thick in the air, its sterile walls casting a cold, lifeless atmosphere around you. The labyrinth of vents you crawled through felt like a maze, twisting and turning with no end in sight. Your knees scraped against the jagged metal, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop. Every inch of your body screamed in exhaustion, but your mission kept you moving. The crystal—the one thing you needed to find—was somewhere within this forsaken facility. But you had to survive long enough to retrieve it.

The deeper you went, the darker it became. The vents barely let any light in, and the only sound you could hear was the echo of your own breathing, shallow and frantic. You couldn’t afford to think about how you got here, how everything had spiraled out of control, or the faces you had once known. All you could focus on was the present, the objective. The crystal.

Your life had been shattered after Sebastian’s betrayal. You had fallen so far, so fast, that it felt like the very ground beneath you had disappeared. Now, here you were, crawling through the grim, unforgiving halls of the Blacksite—nothing more than a shadow, a criminal. Desperate. The crushing weight of debt and hunger had driven you beyond what you once thought possible.

Money had been the catalyst for your descent into this hellish place. The lack of it, the constant struggle to survive, had broken you down piece by piece until you were willing to do anything—anything—to escape the suffocating grasp of poverty. Your morals, your dignity, everything you once held dear, faded into the background as you scraped together whatever scraps of hope you could find.

And then you crossed the line.

It was never supposed to come to this. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t risk it all, but desperation had a way of warping your sense of reason. You had stepped into the Blacksite’s underbelly, risking your life, hoping the payoff would be enough to turn everything around. But all you had now were regrets, each one more suffocating than the last.

You had never imagined it would end like this.

It was hard to tell how much time had passed when you finally reached an access hatch, a simple vent. You didn’t hesitate, swinging it open and slipping through into the dimly lit room. Your eyes scanned the space, still disoriented from the crawl, but something stopped you dead in your tracks.

It was a shop.

A small, oddly shop tucked away in the heart of the Blacksite. The walls were lined with shelves—an assortment of strange, vintage devices, dusty trinkets, and knick-knacks. In the corner, a glass display case held a collection of unmarked items, their importance completely unknown to you. It was surreal, this oasis in the middle of a place so cold and hostile.

But what made your breath catch in your throat wasn’t the strange setting or the items on the shelves.

You froze, heart pounding in your chest as your eyes locked onto him. Sebastian. But he wasn’t the man you had once known—he wasn’t even close. His appearance was twisted, distorted, as though the years had been unkind, carving deep lines of pain into his face. His eyes, once warm and familiar, now held a cold emptiness, an unrecognizable void inbetween the fluorescent glow. His skin was pale gray, unnatural, like something out of a nightmare, and his presence felt wrong, as though he had been reshaped by something dark and uncontrollable. The shock hit you like a physical blow, your stomach churning as you tried to pull back, your legs shaking with the instinct to flee. You didn't even dared to comment the rest of his body. This wasn’t the man you loved: this wasn’t even someone you could recognize. A wave of disgust washed over you, mingling with the terror that gripped your throat. You couldn’t even process it—your mind couldn't make sense of the grotesque transformation. All you could do was stumble backward, every inch of your body telling you to get away, to escape this horrible, unrecognizable figure before you.

You took a slow, cautious step backward, your breath shallow and erratic. Every movement felt like an eternity as you tried to distance yourself from the nightmare standing in front of you. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, the twisted version of Sebastian, but at the same time, you couldn’t look at him. The terror in your chest made your limbs heavy, your mind clouded with panic, and your heart ached in a way that made it hard to breathe.

You moved quietly, silently, as though retreating would give you the space to think, to make sense of this madness. Your feet stumbled awkwardly, barely making any sound against the cold floor—until they didn’t. Your foot caught on something—an object, a piece of debris that you hadn’t noticed before—and in a split second, your body was crashing to the ground.

The impact sent a sharp pain through your limbs, and before you could even react, you froze, utterly paralyzed by the noise. The sound of your fall echoed through the room, and in an instant, you felt his presence shift. His breathing grew louder, and then he turned.

For a moment, everything stopped. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe. Every muscle in your body locked up as you lay there, immobilized by fear.

And then he saw you.

His eyes, once hollow, suddenly flickered with recognition. His face—so alien just moments before—shifted into something you could hardly process. A look of utter shock and joy crossed his features, his mouth parting in disbelief, displaying his sharp teeth. He moved toward you cautiously, his voice hoarse but filled with an overwhelming sense of relief.

“Y-You...?” His voice trembled, almost in awe. His eyes darted over your face, his expression softening as the pieces of recognition fell into place. “No way… is it really you?”

A rush of emotion flooded through him—something you hadn’t seen in a long time, something raw and vulnerable. His face broke into an unrestrained, radiant smile, and for the first time, you saw the man you once knew beneath all the horror. It was a moment of pure, unfiltered joy that made your stomach twist in confusion and disbelief.

You could barely move, still too stunned to comprehend the sight before you, but his reaction was enough to make your chest tighten, a jolt of emotion hitting you like a wave, not in a good way.

He was happy to see you. And somehow, in this strange, twisted reality, that felt even more terrifying.

Sebastian moved closer, his hands trembling slightly as he reached for the pocket of his coat, pulling something out with an eager grin. The object glinted in his hand, and for a moment, the sight of the small box made your heart skip with fear. But you couldn’t process it, couldn’t make sense of the words he was about to speak.

“I—I can’t believe this… I’ve missed you so much,” he rambled, his voice a mix of relief and confusion. His gaze never left you, his eyes soft but filled with an almost frantic urgency, as though he couldn’t believe you were really here. “I thought I’d never see you again, after everything—after how much I messed up. I don’t know how you ended up down here, I don’t understand, but… I don’t care.”

His words poured out, faster than he could catch them, like he had been waiting for this moment, this reunion, for so long. He seemed out of breath, his chest heaving slightly as he spoke, the joy barely contained in his voice. His behaviour felt so off on so many different levels, not lovingly like you knew him back then, but obsessive in the worst way.

“I’ve been waiting for this… for you,” he continued, a wild light in his eyes. “I told myself I’d come back to you, no matter what. No matter what happened or what I had to go through… you were always on my mind. I never stopped thinking about you. I—" His voice caught, almost as if the words were too much to handle.

He paused for a moment, his face suddenly serious, as if weighing something. Then, with a flourish, he opened the small box in his hand, revealing the engagement ring nestled inside, covered in some dry blood and dirt. His smile stretched wide, a mix of pride and happiness in his eyes. “I was going to ask you... I wanted to ask you... I’ve been saving for so long. I—” He glanced at you, his expression filled with an almost childlike excitement. “I wanted to give you this. I wanted to promise you everything. I know things were messed up, but you *are* everything to me. And I—I need you to know that.”

But you couldn’t hear his words anymore. They were distant, muffled, as if the world around you was closing in. Your chest felt hollow, and despite the tears that had begun to fall silently down your face, your body felt numb. The shock of seeing him again, the confusion, the betrayal—it was too much to handle. You didn’t know whether to scream or to run, but your body refused to move.

His words—so full of joy, so hopeful—made everything worse. The engagement ring, the smiles, the words of love—they all felt like knives in your chest. Your throat tightened, and the tears came harder, spilling down your cheeks in a silent torrent as you stared at him, completely incapable of responding.

He kept talking, his words becoming a blur. He didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he didn’t care, that you weren’t saying anything back, that you weren’t moving. His smile remained wide and genuine, as if he was living some dream he had longed for. But for you? It was a nightmare that you couldn’t escape, not even if you tried.

You were deadly terrified of him.

You don't know who was standing in front of you anymore.

„GET AWAY FROM ME!“

[oh-no-its-bird]

Someone ( @ohai-there ) asked me if I had any thoughts ab mdtb weeks "cultural differences" prompt, so, like, take just the copy pasted reply I gave them (+ some extra) :

I was up all night drawing birthday art and am this 👌 close to blacking out for x amount of hours so this risks being nonsensical fair warning

Uhhh culture shock my beloved, let's seee

Easy answer is the senju are very touchy feely, easily and willingly sleeps around (they face a lot less risk of bloodline theft due to rarity of the mokuton so there isn't as much ingrained cultural fear of being assulted/facing the baby shaped consequences of sleeping around willy nilly)

They can take multiple spouses and it's actually rare for the head of house to have only one wife (Hashirama is an exception bc Mito is a Princess(tm) and so to take another wife would risk offending her own clan culture, he is fine with this and they possibly often take others to bed with them just for funzies (potential hashimitoizu noises(?)))

Uhh anyways so that, they're super liberal with touch, etc. Etc.

Also they don't really do crazy deep romance and are super used to casual no strings attached flings, you have to make yourself VERY clear in what you're doing if you want to actually start a fr relationship bc otherwise many "courtship" behaviors are just like. Casual, culturally acceptable flirting and invitations to bang (the senju have a 101 different ways to proposition eachother in flower language alone.)

Meanwhile the Uchiha are on the total opposite side of the spectrum— they're like super conservative (In contrast to the Senju not having an ingrained fear of bloodline hunters, their very valuable and very vulnerable kekkei genkkei makes them prime victims, which has lead them having generations of trauma fueled insane abstinence lessons)

+ They're a noble clan and regularly interact with the Daimyo's court, so there's even more etiquette culture ingrained into them so they can send anyone into court if needed (While the Senju, who are NOT a noble clan, only ever send their main house, and so only they have to even worry about court etiquette)

They do not believe in divorce, they do not believe in political marriages (tho they do happen very very rarely, it's seen as very sad and tragic when it does) they... sometimes believe in multiple spouses, in specific situations (they can't regularly interact w the daimyo's court and not have to face it as a concept, after all)

So like. Super up tight, hella rules about how to show affection and proper ways to conduct yourselves, months long courting rituals before u even get to kissing, to sleep together before marriage is SINFUL

But they're ALSO super fucking romantic and absolutely insane about having soulmates and one true loves and are just super intense ab all that romance stuff where the senju are super relaxed in it

I think u see where this is going

Anyways uhhh

They make a village and there's tons of culture shock

Then Tobirama, being Tobirama (standoffish and cold, not especially interested in the usual wild Senju sex parties or whatever tf kind of events they're hosting in the gardens) is like, among the most "normal" to the Uchiha (from a cultural standpoint)

And bc of that, Madara maybe interacts w him more like "well he's kind of awful but at least he's not a sex FREAK like the rest of these Senju WHORES"

Umm Madara tries to court Tobirama but Tobirama sees it as him only trying to bang (?)

Which he possibly doesn't even want to do

Tobirama is like "Ah man, if only he were interested in actual courtship, but he has only given me the Senju flowers of "I wish to ravish you in the fields" and not the senju flowers of "I am potentially interest in maybe going on a date" (a proposition that a)he received not too infrequently, and so was not odd, and b) he politely rejected by accepting the flowers then showing Madara that he had planted it in red soil)

Meanwhile, Madara is like. "Wow this courtship is going so great he's accepting all my Uchiha flowers of pure devotion and innocent love in bloom"

Just in general, their clans having different flower meanings could be funny actually. The Uchiha regularly interact with court so I think they'd have to have, like, "normal" flower meanings (or else theres be some implications there of how theye gotten so far while using incorrect flower meanings in genuinely important events) so that means its the Senju who have odd meanings for flowers-- which also works, bc, like, mokuton

however many years ago, a previous descendant with mokuton told his clansmen the ""real"" meaning of these flowers,,, u wouldnt get it,,,

Another fun route could be, like, the Uchiha method of declaring ones intentions to court someone also happens to be the Senju's method of declaring a feud.

Madara tries to flirt with Tobirama only for Tobirama to understand this as Madara telling him to his face that the peace may be ongoing but he'll always hate his bitch ass !!!

[lostbookmark]

MDNI 🔞

Main Masterlist here

WHISPERED VOWS MASTERLIST here

Summary: You thought planning your wedding was going to be a magical memory. You didn't realize that it might make you second guess everything.

Pairing: Fiancée Yoongi x Insecure F. Reader

Genre: Romance, Angst, Smut, Hurt-Comfort

Warnings: Explicit Sex, Toxic Family Dynamics, Arguments, Sex Toys, Self Doubt, Over Thinking, Yoongi Overworking Himself, Reader Needs To Speak Up

SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUt

You stare at the screen of your computer and yawn. You haven't gotten a lot of sleep the past few nights. Yoongi has been gone again at night more frequently, opting to sleep in his studio in small spurts in between working. He tells you that he's so close to finishing the album, but you'll believe it when you see it. As of right now, you don't believe him at all. This has now been the third time he told you that. You have been keeping yourself busy trying to make the decision of what cake you want to try at your tasting next week. You get ten flavors to sample, and you are taking it very seriously. Your guest won't remember your vows after the wedding but they will remember if the cake was bad. Compared to everything else, this is the one thing you were looking forward to.

“What are feelings on fondant?” You ask Seungkwan. He looks up at you from across the room and makes a face. “Buttercream it is.”

“What does Yoongi want?” he asks.

“He doesn't care for cake, so he'll leave it up to me,” you tell him with a sigh. “Just like everything else. At least he is coming with me to sample them. So, I'll take it as a win.”

“You should talk to him about it,” he says, typing away on his computer. “If it's getting to be too much, you need to say something.”

“No, I took responsibility to plan everything. I can't go back on my word,” you tell him as you lean back and close your eyes. “I got your sister's email. The picture of the bouquet she sent is beautiful.”

“Oh, I'm glad,” he said with a small smile. “What did you go with?”

“Dark burgundy delilahs and white roses. Seriously, Seungkwan, thank you. I really appreciate it,” you say. “Anyway, I'm hungry. I'm going to hit the vending machine downstairs on the studio level. Did you want anything?”

“We have vending machines on our floor too,” Seungkwan tells you with a knowing look.

“I'm not up to anything. They have Oreos down there,” you say, defending yourself. “All we have are protein bars.”

“I guess I'll take a pack as well,” he relents.

Grabbing your card from your bag, you leave your office and take the elevator downstairs. You weren't lying….technically. The studio level does indeed have better snacks in the vending machine, but you can't help it if you have to walk by Yoongi's studio to get to it. Your chances of actually running into him were slim, but hey, you'll take the chance.

Leaving the elevator, you round the corner past Hobi's studio and then down past Yoongi's studio to get to the coveted snack machine. Sliding your card, you press the correct number for your cookies, the machine roars to life and pushes your cookies out. Bending down, you take them from the bottom of the machine and repeat. Only this time, the Oreos do not drop once you press the correct buttons. They get stuck between the coil holding them and the small black divider to its side.

“No,” you say into the empty hallway. You give the button another press and another, but still nothing happens. You gave the machine a big whack this time, but the only thing that you managed to do was hurt your hand. “Ouch!” You exclaim and shake your hand.

“Need help,” a voice says, startling you. You didn't even hear a door open.

Shit. Kai is smiling at you when you look to see who came to your rescue. He looks just as handsome as you remember, but this is not the best place to be seen with him. Not when you can look past him and see your fiancée's door. Fucking Orero's. They were too good to resist. You need to lay off the junk food. You should have gone with the protein bars.

“Um, sure. Thanks,” you say and back away from the vending machine.

Kai presses both his hands at the top of the vending machine and gently rocks it back and forth. It probably takes less than ten seconds before the sweet snack hits the bottom of the machine. He reaches down and retrieves them for you. Standing back up, he smiles and hands them to you.

“Thanks,” you say again, taking them from him and then proceed to take a few extra steps away from him.

“Y/N, right?” He asks you and leans on the machine he just manhandled. “Lisa's friend. We met at Jimin's party.”

“Yeah, that's me,” you say, standing there awkwardly in front of him. “I should…”

“You know it's a shame that our night was cut short at that party. I had a good time talking to you,” he comments, and you can hear the elevator ding. “Do you have any plans for Valentine's Day tonight?”

“No,” you say quietly. Is that today? You have completely forgotten.

“Is your boyfriend working tonight? He works here, right? Your boyfriend is a producer in the company? I think I have seen around….he glares a lot.”

“Fiancée and part owner actually,” Jimin says, walking up to the two of you. He slings his arm around his friend's shoulder. “I think Y/N needs to head back to work.” Jimin widens his eyes and jerks his head quickly. You stare at him strangely but decide to just go with it.

“Yeah, umm, very busy,” you say as Jimin still motions for you to go.

“Oh,” Kai said, looking amused. “So busy you had to have a cookie break? You don't seem that busy to me.”

“Yup, she just needs sugar every now and then, or she gets angry. I think she …realllyyy….needs to go. She should also…take the stairs. Now.” Jimin says.

Your eyes widen. You finally get it. Yoongi was probably on his way down. You turn quickly, running down the hall and heading for the door hiding the stairwell. You hear Kai say something to Jimin, but you were too busy running for your life to catch what it was. You make a sound of defeat when you open the door. Do you want to take four flights of stairs in heels? No. Do you want Yoongi to catch you with Kai? Absolutely not. You'll take the chance of busting your ass in your heels because it was better than the alternative.

Huffing and puffing, you make it back into your office and throw the cookies at Seungkwan, hitting him squarely in the chest. Who then made a disapproving sound when they hit him. You throw yourself in your chair and wipe your forehead with your hand. Man, you're out of shape.

“What happened?” he asks, opening the snack you got him and shoves one in his mouth.

“Kai happened,” you say and don't elaborate. You just hope that Yoongi doesn't find out.

Did anything interesting happen today?

It should have been an innocent text from Yoongi, but you knew better. He knew that you must have talked to Kai earlier, but you don't know who told him. Would Jimin go through all that trouble to help you and then rat you out? Probably. Not that there was anything to tell because you did nothing wrong. You bite your lip and think about how you want to answer this. You weigh your options. You can be brat about this, or you can fess up and be honest. Your fingers tap the side of your phone in thought. This is the fifth night in a row that he wouldn't be home, and your eyes drift to that red trunk that has yet to be discovered in your closet. You chose brat.

I got me and Seungkwan Oreos. You responded by typing back.

That all?

Yup, I wanted to save my energy for tonight. You write back.

Getting out of bed, you go to your closet and drop to your knees in front of that red chest. You take off the blanket and hoodies that you threw on top of it, placing everything to the side. You're going to take Lisa's advice and send Yoongi a quick picture. Of what exactly….you're not quite sure yet. Opening the lid, your face still burns with embarrassment, looking at everything that Lisa bought for you. You don’t even know where to start.

What's tonight? he types back.

You reach inside and grab what you think she called a personal massager. A deep purple device was one of the more innocent looking items in the box. Your eyes next land on the leather handcuffs, and you quickly snatch them as well before you could talk yourself out of it. Taking a breath, you put everything back before walking back over to the bed. Chucking your shirt off over your head, leaving your top half completely exposed. You lie down on your stomach, moving the toy close to your body and squish your boobs together between your arms. Positioning your device in what you hope is just the right angle to make you look enticing you snap a picture using the timer. You look at the result, and you are actually kind of impressed. Not bad.

Solo play, you answer with the accompanied picture and hit send.

Your palms become sweaty, your hands shake, and your eyes become large as you stare at your phone screen. What did you do? Oh, no! What did you do? Can you unsend a text? Please, you just want to take it back. Your hands start to flail around in the air by your head in panic. Your heart stops as the message goes from delivered to read.

“Oh shit,” you whisper to yourself and grab your shirt to cover yourself.

You watch as the dreaded dots appear on the screen, showing that he was responding. Your mouth goes dry, and suddenly, they disappear, but nothing comes through. You wait and wait, but again, nothing comes through. He's not going to respond. You don't know if you should be relieved or embarrassed that he probably didn't like it. Maybe Lisa doesn't know what she is talking about after all. You thought maybe you could salvage Valentines, but now you feel just plain stupid and a little unwanted. It kind of hurt. Tossing your phone on the bed, you lazily roll yourself off the bed and head for the bathroom to shower. Maybe you can wash away your idioticness.

When you open the bathroom door after your shower, the steam rolls out behind you. You tighten the towel that is wrapped around your freshly cleaned body as you head back to the bedroom. Stepping over the threshold into said room, you freeze. Yoongi is sitting on the edge of the bed. In his hands was that deep purple toy. His eyes look up at you through the strands of hair that have fallen over his forehead and into his eyes. Your pulse quickens. You guess Lisa does, in fact, know what she is talking about. You watch him reach over and grab the discarded cuffs. He dangles them off one of his slim fingers and raises an eyebrow at you.

“Solo play, huh?” he asks, resting both his elbows on his knees.

“I didn't think that you would come,” you tell him, holding your towel tighter like it was going to hide you somehow. Hide away the embarrassment of your actions.

Yoongi stands up from the bed after he discards the gifts on the bed and approaches you slowly. Once he reaches you, he slides his hand down your bare arm. The excess water in your hair starts to drip down your exposed skin, sending a chill through you. You noticeably shiver, and Yoongi pulls you closer to him. Bending his head, he captures your lips with his own, giving you a soft, teasing kiss.

“Do you still want it to be solo, or can I join?” he whispers against your lips.

You slip your hands to the hem of his shirt and pull up. Yoongi lifts his arms, helping you bring it over his head and taking it off the rest of the way by himself. Pulling his head down to you, you press your mouth against his. Yoongi moves his hands to your wet tangled hair, gripping your head tightly, keeping you where you were.

“Were you thinking of me?” he asks, pulling away slightly and pressing his forehead against yours.

“Yoongi,” you whimper and try to look away, but the hold on your head doesn't let you.

“What? You can't send me pictures like that and be embarrassed, baby,” he tells you as he kisses a path from your cheek to your neck. “You don't think that I haven't touched myself thinking about you? Hmmm, because I have…and I do.”

Something in you snaps, and you grab him, kissing him hard as you think about him alone in his studio, stroking himself. He groans into your mouth, holding you close against his body. You place your hands on his chest and back him up to the bed. The both of you falling onto it once the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress, mouths still connected. Pulling away, you crawl off of him and move to the center of the bed. Yoongi twists around trying to grab for you, but you stay out of his reach, and you make him follow you up the bed.

You gently push him back against the pillows when he reaches out for you again, and you climb onto his lap. Leaning down, you press your mouth to his again. His hands travel to the top of your twisted towel, and he gently pulls it apart, giving him the treat of your naked body with small water droplets now dripping down onto the both of you. He relaxes underneath you and takes in every inch of you as his hands run up over the top of your thighs and land on your hips.

You reach over and grab the black leather cuffs that are laid beside you. You toy with them and undo the velcro with a loud shkriiiiip. He smirks at you and wets his lips with his tongue. One hand goes to your face. lovingly strokes your cheek with his thumb.

“You want me to cuff you to the bed, baby?” he questions, his voice deep with desire. You smile shyly back at him and shake your head. His eyes narrow at you for a moment before laughing silently. Yoongi places his hands above his head, resting them on the pillow and raises an eyebrow at you. He's daring you to do it. “It's okay.”

You lean over him and wrap his wrist in the leather before hooking the other side through the dark wooden slats of the headboard. Repeating the same treatment to the other wrist, he willing lies there at your mercy. You want to keep here so he can't leave you for days, almost weeks at a time like he always does. God, you miss him, and you don't know how much longer you can last like this. The loneliness at night has almost become unbearable. The silence was almost too loud.

Taking his mouth with yours again, your tongues dance together naturally as your mouths open for one another. He groans in your mouth as you ground your hips onto his pelvis. Your lips pull away with a smack, and you slither your way down his body as you maintain eye contact with him. You can see that his breathing has picked up by the way his chest moves up and down. If that wasn't a sure sign of him liking this, the straining in his sweatpants definitely did.

Settling yourself on the bed between his legs, you run your hand over his clothed erection. Yoongi bucks his hips up into your touch and lets out a harsh, shuddering breath. Reaching for the top of his sweats, you curl your fingers around the fabric and pull them over his hips. You stop in surprise when you realize that he didn't have anyone underneath. Your eyes meet his, and he smirks and gives a slight shrug as best as he can, given his current position.

Pulling them the rest of the way off, you grab his hardness and bring your mouth down to him. Giving his tip one small lick, you pull away. You sit back on your heels and stare at him with an innocent smile before crawling back up his body. You rest your weight on your hands as you hover your face over his.

“Happy Valentine's Day,” you say quietly, and his eyes widen in recognition.

“I'm sorry,” he says quickly, but you shut him up with a kiss.

“I forgot too, until….Kai reminded me,” you tell him with a knowing look, and he narrows his eyes.

“I bet he fucking did,” he growls.”He was so fucking smug talking to Jimin about you.”

“Oh,” you say and drop your hips onto his hardness that was lying against his flat stomach. You languidly move your wet core back and forth along it. Letting the motion stimulate your clit.

“Yeah,” he answered breathlessly as his eyes rolled back slightly. “Fuck, keep going.”

“Nothing happened,” you tell him as you lift your hips off of him, denying him your touch. “I barely even said two words to him.”

“I trust you,” he says, taking a deep breath

“Do you?” You ask him seriously.

“With my whole heart,” he says, lifting his head for a kiss. You lean down and press your mouth to his once again before moving your kiss to his neck. Yoongi's head falls back onto the pillow. “Baby, can we talk about this later. My cock is so hard it hurts.”

Sitting up you reach between your legs, you grab his cock and run the head along your folds, coating him with your natural slickness before slowly sinking onto him. Yoongi pushes his tongue against the side of cheek as he watches you take all of him with rapt attention. You lean forward with your hands on his chest and press your forehead against his as you start to slowly move up and down on him. You close your eyes and savor the feeling of him inside of you as you take your time. The feeling of fullness replacing the ache of emptiness and loneliness that has plagued you for months now. The hot flame within you that has dulled finally roared back to life.

Yoongi plants his feet flat on the bed and thrusts his hips up against you. His hard dick spears you over and over again as you fall forward from the force of his hips hitting you and bury your face into his neck. You let out a strangled moan as he takes control.

“Undo me, Y/N,” his raspy voice commands. “I need to get my mouth on you.”

You reach up blindly and pull the velcro off one of the cuffs. With his wrist successfully freed, he hurriedly grabs the opposite side and undos it himself. Sitting up, he throws them to the floor and gently guides you off him. He grabs your waist and turns you so you can lie down in his previously occupied spot before he grabs your knees, spreading you open for him.

Lying on his stomach, Yoongi presses a kiss to your throbbing clit. His fingers run up and down your opening gathering your wetness before sinking them into you. You sigh and wiggle your hips in response. Sticking his tongue out he traces small circles around you as his fingers start a slow rhythm pumping into you.

“Do you want me to use that?” he asks, jerking his head to the deep purple toy.

“NO!” You exclaim and cover your face.

Yoongi moves up up your body, hovering over you as his fingers continue to slide in and out of you. He crooks them at the perfect angle that has you gasping and grabbing at his shoulders. Yoongi leans down and kisses your cheek before pushing his fingers deeper inside of you. You press your head further into the pillow underneath you with a whimper.

“Let me use it. Please?” he asked, tongue licking a wet stripe underneath your jaw. You bite your lip as he shoves his fingers into you at a rapid pace that is just as deep.

“Fuck,” you gasp out. “Okay, okay. Use it.”

Yoongi pulls his fingers out of you quickly and grabs onto the massager. His hand fumbles with it for a second before he finds the button to turn it on. The low hum of the messenger and the dark look in his eyes make your mouth go dry. Placing his lips on yours, he trails the deep purple toy down between your breast over your stomach before reaching his final destination. A whine escapes your lips as the vibration hits your sensitive spot.

“Shhh,” he says softly. “I got you. Stop me if it's too much.”

Yoongi moves down the bed, resting on his knees before sinking his fingers back into you. Holding the toy against you, his fingers start pumping into you at a furious pace. Tapping that innermost spongy spot repeatedly has your wetness dripping out of you with every push and pull of his fingers. Your hands reach up and grab on to the wooden slats of the headboard and squeeze tightly. Your hips start to gyrate, and your breathing picks up, making your chest heave up and down.

“God, I miss seeing you like this,” Yoongi growls at you.

“I….I….,” you struggle with words as your hips jump. Your inner walls rhythmically pulse around his fingers, slicking them even more. “STOP!” You manage to sob out. He throws the toy down on the bed in an instant and looks at you with wide eyes. “You…I….I want you.”

“I'm here,” he said, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I am right here. Are you sure you want more?”

“Please, I need it,” you whimper.

Yoongi lines himself up to your entrance and plunges himself all the way. Your back arches as you bring your arm around his shoulders and pull him down to you. Your chests press together, his face buried in your neck, legs wrapped around his waist as his hips thump repeatedly against your own wildly. You feel delirious as his lips attach to your neck sucking hard enough to mark you. You sink your hand into his hair, tugging him off your neck.

“Got to show him your mine, baby. He acts like he can have you. Can he have you? ” he growls in your ear, and you shake your head, unable to speak. His hips pick up in tempo as the headboard starts to rhythmically bang against the wall loudly. “I'm not going to last much longer,” he pants. “You are going to come again. Do you hear me?”

“Yes,” you pant.

Reaching out, he grabs the discarded toy. Turning it back on, he sneaks it between your bodies to touch it to your clit. You both moan loudly as it makes contact as the vibrations rush through both of you. You feel yourself clench around his hardened length as you cry out, your wetness coating his length. Yoongi hums deeply in satisfaction at the feeling of your pulsating core that surrounds him. His own hips stutter and lose rhythm, toy falling out of his hand as you slap it away when it becomes too much. Slamming his mouth against yours, his hips give you one more hard thrust before he stiffens and comes deep inside of you.

Yoongi drops his head onto your shoulder, panting. You slowly graze your nails up and down his back as you stare up at the ceiling. You can feel his lips lightly connect with the front of your shoulder in what you think is a loving gesture. A tear falls out of the corner of your eye, and you quickly wipe it away. The roaring fire within you minutes ago has gone back to that dull flame. It's a flame that barely flickers and fights to stay lit. You're scared.

Fuck.

Tagged Readers

@mggv97, @granataepfelchen, @kam9404, @svnbangtansworld, @futuristicenemychaos, @notarshia