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nanamiskentos · 5 days ago

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LAY DOWN THE LAW — 五条悟 GOJO SATORU

PLOT 𐙚 Gojo Satoru is the city's hottest attorney and your maddeningly smug boss. Ten years of will-they-won’t-they office tension come to a head when a late night at the firm finally pushes you both over the edge, right onto his desk, and then some. You might be the secretary, but tonight? You’re the one running the court, with your hand shafted around a very big . . . gavel.

FEATURING Gojo Satoru x Reader

CW 𐙚 afab!reader, MDNI, Workplace AU, Boss x Secretary, Suits!AU, Lawyer!Gojo, power plays, possessive language, desk séx, couch séx, semi-public, oràl (f), cowgírl, swítch!Gojo, líght restraínts, praisé kínk, bíting/màrking, mànhandling, unprotected séx, GOJO IS A YEARNER

WC 𐙚 5.1k

NOTE 𐙚 one of my friends started watching suits for the first time and it got me thinking of the good old days...

The firm's office was quiet. Eerily so. The sterile kind of silence that only settled after sunset, when the junior associates had scurried off and the city skyline outside blurred into a sea of flickering lights and taxi horns.

Nights like this always felt heavier somehow, thick in your chest like an aching, hungry fog. Not because of the overtime, hell, you practically lived in this building and wore your stellar competence like a badge of honour, but because after hours meant only one thing.

You were alone. With him.

Satoru Gojo.

Senior partner. The best closer in the city, a hotshot lawyer snug in designer suits. A certified dream and nightmare wrapped into one tall, toned package.

And the worst part? You didn't even mind craving his presence, like a moth to a sparkling, blue flame.

Your gaze always lingered past the edge of your desk when Gojo strolled by in the mornings, leaving you with that casual wink as though gravity bent around him, and you just happened to be in its pull. His stupidly expensive Armani suits, his smug, whiny quips and that sharp-fanged grin that made you want to slap and straddle him in the same breath.

Which is exactly why your heart stuttered when the intercom crackled to life, and his voice slid through, smooth as a neat pour of whiskey, "Doll, can you come in here for a second?"

You knew the drill. Some last-minute filing. A deposition draft he suddenly had to review. Gojo would pour you a crystal glass of scotch, pretend to talk business, and shiver when you leaned in far too close behind his oaken desk, eyes lingering on the swan-curve of your neck.

And like always, you would pretend not to notice, pressing your thighs together to relieve the wayward tension he wrought in you.

But tonight? You were in no mood to play the pretty secretary as diligently as you had been for the past few years. You grit the tips of your heels into the soft carpet to heave open the heavy glass door to his office, not bothering to knock.

Gojo glances up from a stack of clean paper, leaning back in his pristine chair with the ease of a man who brought in millions upon millions of dollars in merger deals each year for the firm. His navy tie was loosened, top button of his starch-white shirt undone.

White hair tousled as though he had run a frustrated hand through it one too many times, and judging by the way his blue eyes greedily dragged up your frame and snagged on your collarbone, you were the reason.

"Late night?" You ask, tone clipped as you watch how the city lights spilled through the high-rise windows behind him, painting him in gold, and blue, and deep, dangerous shadow.

"Thought you could help me with something," Gojo tosses a crisp folder your way, and your nails snag into the thin cardboard without blinking, "Couple of items that needed sorting."

"You couldn't have done this tomorrow? This is just copy-room administration."

Gojo tilts his head, lashes pale as snow, and unfairly long, "You were still here," he shrugs with a casual indifference that doesn't match the tension gnawing at his jaw, "Figured I'd make use of your talents."

The bob of his Adam's apple clearly gave away the flimsy excuse, for Gojo Satoru has always been hungry for the sight of you, even when he was pretending otherwise.

Tonight, though, that smug smile and velvet tone hits different, like a match dragged too slowly across the box, and your jaw clenches.

Gojo had always hovered right there, just shy of indecent in the silent hours of the night. Just enough innuendo to make your thighs clench, but never enough to tip over.

Like he got off dragging the two of you to the edge, and then walking away.

No more.

You step forward, scuffing your heel into the soft weave of the floor, and slapping the folder flat on his desk, "You always do this."

Gojo blinks, jewel-blue eyes owlish and flicking innocently, "Do what?"

"Treat me like I'm yours. Flirt with me. Buy me expensive shit, –" You lean in, meeting the defensive scowl in his eyes, "You took me shopping privately for a Hermès bag this morning, apparently just because."

You know Gojo Satoru enough to recognise the twitch in his expression, the flicker of something real and not cloaked in his endless bravado.

You refuse to let up, "So tell me, Gojo. Are you ever actually going to do something about it?"

"I thought you were seeing that investment banker from the 46th floor," Gojo mutters, jaw tight as his eyes tear themselves away from you, the swell of your chest with considerable effort.

Ah. Nanami Kento.

That fling was brief, for while you liked your men strong, you didn't quite like them silent.

No hard feelings, of course.

"That ended six months ago," you say coolly, "And when I first told you about him, you didn't speak to me for a week. What was that about?"

Silence. You can't hear anything else but the hard, pounding beat of your pulse, and the faint hum of electricity running in the background, keeping parts of the office lit.

Gojo stands, not abruptly nor angrily. Just deliberately, like a man who already made up his mind long ago.

You inch back automatically, the edge of the desk pressing against the small of your back, below the crux of your spine. Gojo follows, close, too close. Heat radiates off your boss like static, and his scent, mint and cedar, curls in your lungs.

A large hand cups your jaw, and his touch isn't rough. Gojo uses just enough pressure to make you tilt your chin up to meet those storm-blue eyes. Darker now, dilated and devouring.

"Say the word," Gojo murmurs, voice thick with something you could even mistake as longing, "And I'll show you that I'm yours right here."

Your throat bobs, a hot flush beginning to kiss the tips of your ears, "What? Here, Gojo, –" You're hissing, even though you knew the building was entirely empty, and it was well past midnight.

Gojo's index finger is pressed to your lips, "You want me to be an honest man?" A wicked but almost bashful smile ghosting over the mouth of the most confident and self-assured man that you know, "Fine. I want to kiss you."

You don't give him the chance to ask again.

Grabbing the finely tailored lapels of his suit, and pulling the attorney down into you, kissing him hard. Tasting mint, coffee and the ghost of lemon candy on his tongue as his hand slams back against the desk, and you can swear he whimpers.

Gojo chases after you like a man starved. The press of his lips both hot and urgent, his clever tongue teasing until you groan, biting his lower lip hard enough to taste the tell-tale tang of iron.

That earns you another sound from deep in his throat, something that sounds almost grateful, and he pulls you closer. Looping a strong around your waist, already tugging at the hem of your top.

You think that the only downside of having Gojo Satoru like this, is the human need to pull back for oxygen.

But he seems almost magnetically drawn to you, eyes lingering on the glossy sheen coating your mouth, his breath shallow as he heaves a sharp breath, "Always wanted to know what you would taste like."

"Oh, yeah? Got your answer?"

"Well, one part of my answer," Gojo's large hands are running along the silky seam of your stockings, and you involuntarily shiver as you push against the firm planes of his chest, snaking your manicured hand lower.

"You're already hard."

Gojo gives you a faintly embarrassed, dull look, but it's true enough. There's a rock solid tent in his dark slacks, aching for friction against your thigh, as he murmurs against your jaw, "What, you think if I put my hands up your skirt, you're not gonna' be wet?"

What use is there in denying cold, hard facts?

Gojo's hands run down to your waist, spinning you around so fast that your palms slam against the hard surface of his desk for balance.

The wood is cold beneath your skin, spotless and severe, and each pen on his desk is lined up with military precision, not a page out of place.

For now.

You can feel the white-haired man behind you, his body heat pressing into your back as he leans over, pink lips brushing the delicate shell of your ear, "This desk's seen a lot of action," he murmurs, "But nothin' like this."

Your heart is thudding as soft, suckled marks are bruised gently into your neck, "You ever bend a client over it?"

"No," Gojo scoffs, dragging his hands up your sides once more, slow and reverent as though he wants to commit your form to memory, "Only ever thought about my favourite secretary."

You're gasping, lips slack, as he kicks your legs slightly apart at the knee, and then, fuck — his fingers are sliding up your inner thigh. Bold, skilled and confident.

When he find the wet heat, slick and searing between your legs, Gojo groans against your neck, "God, you really are mine, huh?"

"Check the paperwork, then, S-Satoru," You're hissing, trying to stay snide, even as your hips hungrily rock into his touch. Ensuring that you grind your dripping, plump folds against his fingers, coating his knuckles with your arousal.

"Oh, I will," Gojo purrs, "In fact –"

Gojo keeps a solid arm snug around you, holding you up as his other hand reaches for something on the desk, and before you can question what on earth he's doing now, you hear the rustle of paper.

He's got your file, that faded résumé that you had dropped in his lap when you had first demanded he hire you. You twist your head to blearily glare at him just as he flips it open.

"You had excellent references," Gojo muses, as though he's reading aloud to a jury. Meanwhile, two long fingers are filthily sliding into you, slow and deep, curling just right in pursuit for a sweet spot, "Punctual. Detail-oriented. Loyal. Mhm, tight too. Didn't see that in the résumé."

"S-Satoru," You choke out, nails already curling half-crescents into the polished wood. His palm now roughly angled so you can drag your throbbing cunt over his hand, and still catch enough friction to soothe your aching clit.

"Ah-ah," The white-haired man clicks his tongue, hooking his middle finger so a fresh wave of slick clings to the fine dusting of pale, white hair on his hand, "That's Gojo during business hours."

"It's past m-midnight."

"Heh, you're right," Gojo snickers, battering his fingers against that roughened, sweet spot, "In that case, call me whatever ya' want, doll."

You arch into his tender touch, breath hitcing as his fingers fuck you with the kind of steady rhythm that says he's had this moment planned, fantasised and rehearsed.

His other hand warmly slips under your top, pushing the fabric side just enough to tug your bra down, and palm your breast, thumb brushing your pebbled nipple as you whimper.

"You like this?" Gojo asks, the liquid-smooth tone of his voice now tinged with a hungry rasp, and his lips continue to delicately press kisses over the nape of your neck, "Letting your boss finger you over his quarterly earnings report?"

You try to respond, but your pleas come out more as a garbled moan, stifled as he probes his fingers against the elastic walls of your cunt.

Gojo grins, "Didn't catch that, sweet girl. You're gonna' have to say it like you mean it."

"F-fuck, yes, yes," you gasp, back arching as your thighs strain with the most delicious ache, "Want more, p-please."

Gojo stills, not all the way, just enough to make you squirm, hips rolling helplessly into the hand that no longer moves, breath catching in your throat as the heat and rhythm disappear.

His touch lingers, taunting, maddening, and you whine before you can stop yourself, the sound slipping past your lips like a plea you didn’t mean to give him.

He huffs a quiet laugh, the kind that curls down your spine like smoke, "More?" he echoes, faux-innocent and infuriating, his voice that same low, slick tone he uses when convincing clients to sign over the promise of ten million dollars, "You think I just give it away, doll?"

Your response is instant, breathy and heated, punctuated by the steady drip of your slick against his desk, "I earned it, didn't I?"

And that, that does something to Gojo. You feel the change. Like a muscle coiled too tight finally snapping loose.

It's in the way his warm grip tightens on your hips, the way he exhales like he’s been holding his breath for years, the guttural sound he lets out as he drops to his knees with a heavy thud, slacks creased, like a man possessed.

In one fluid motion, your translucent, sopping panties are around your ankles, torn down so fast the elastic snaps, and Gojo's murmuring a kiss of apology against your thigh, and his broad hands are dragging your thighs apart like he's carving out space for worship.

"Consider this your bonus," Gojo murmurs, voice dark with promise, ruined at the mere sight of your glossy, winking pussy, and then his mouth is on you.

Your gasp punches out of you like it's been yanked from the base of your spine. His tongue is hot and wet and obscene, sliding through your folds with the kind of deliberate slowness that makes you tremble. He licks you like he's determined to learn you, like he's done the theory, read the case notes, and now it's time for oral arguments.

And God, he's good at it. Gojo is really good at it.

He flicks his tongue over your swollen clit with practiced ease, teasing little circles that send white-hot pulses of pleasure through your gut. Every time your hips buck, he anchors you tighter, one arm locking around your thigh while the other drags you closer by the small of your back, forcing you to stay still and take it so perfectly for him.

"You're so w-wet," Gojo groans into your cunt, lips slick and voice reverent, like he’s drunk off the taste of your sweet pussy, "What's the matter, baby? Can't focus when someone's actually giving you what you need?"

Your fingers scramble for purchase on the desk’s edge as he sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue rolling against it with maddening rhythm. Your eyes flutter, head tipping back, your entire body buzzing with pleasure.

Your knees nearly buckle when he hums, hums, as though he's tasting vintage wine.

When Gojo pulls back at last, his mouth is shining, and he looks positively wrecked in the best way. Flushed cheeks, jaw damp, pupils blown wide. The front of his suit is creased, rumpled beyond salvation. His deep-blue tie's hanging off one shoulder. And his blinding grin is nothing short of smug.

"Gonna' bend you over this desk now,” Gojo says casually, like he's scheduling a client call, "Heels on. Hands flat. Keep your voice down unless you want HR to catch the encore on security footage."

You barely hear the rest of the sentence, you're already moving, limbs moving on instinct, spine arching as you brace yourself against the desk.

And you don’t even realise you're obeying until your palms hit the polished wood and you feel the weight of Gojo behind you again, hot and solid and absolutely unrelenting.

And when he finally pushes into you, all thick, hot, and utterly unforgiving inches upon inches, it knocks the breath straight from your lungs.

There's no teasing now, no soft wind-up or slow drag. Just the blunt, overwhelming stretch of his fat mushroom-tip probing and filling you in one deliberate thrust that has your back arching and your mouth falling open in a wordless moan.

You gasp, the sound stuttering against your forearm as you brace yourself on the desk, eyes squeezing shut from the sheer intensity of it.

Gojo's big. Oh, he knows it's big, and he fucks like he's trying to remind you of it with every single stroke. Ensuring that you never forget the sticky slap! of his thighs tacking against your own, dribbling with arousal and the prelude to his seed.

The white-haired man's hands clamp down on your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh there with a bruising grip as he snaps his hips into yours, relentless and smooth, like he’s been waiting years for this.

The desk jerks with every thrust, drawers rattling. Loose pages scatter to the floor. Gojo's gilded nameplate goes flying with a clatter, landing somewhere near your pricey heels, and the coffee mug you brought him earlier tips over, soaking a stack of contracts you'd spent the whole afternoon organising.

Neither of you care.

"Fuck," Gojo groans, whiny voice fraying at the edges, rough and low and needy, "Look at you. Taking it so f-fucking well. Like this pretty pussy was made to be bent over my desk."

You let out a strangled moan, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the slick wood surface, the edge biting into your hips with every push forward. Your legs are trembling, heels still on, body taut with sensation, overstimulated already and aching for more. And you try to speak, to respond, but the words break apart in your dry throat, "Y-you are so –"

"Charming?" Gojo grits out, breath hot against the back of your neck as he leans forward to press his chest to your spine, one hand leaving your hip to curl around your throat, not tight, just enough to tilt your head up, "Devastatingly handsome? Ridiculously good at fillin' you up? You're gonna' have to be more specific, doll."

You let out something between a sob and a laugh, even as your eyes roll back at the next thrust. And Gojo's voice lowers to a murmur, but there's nothing soft in it, just heat, possession, a hint of desperation bleeding through the snark, "C'mon, baby. Say it. Say you're mine. Please."

You manage it on a gasp, voice wrecked, pleasure-drenched, "I'm —f-fuck, I'm yours."

That does it. Gojo groans like you just handed him a verdict in his favor, like your words scratched some raw, aching itch inside him that nothing else could reach, "Y-yeah, you are,” he growls, "All f-fucking mine."

He fucks you harder after that, messy, frantic, a little feral. One hand back on your hip, the other dragging down your back to press between your shoulder blades, holding you down, keeping you right there as he takes you like a man who’s been dreaming about this for far too long.

You can feel every solid, veined inch of him. The way he stretches you open, the obscene slick sounds between your thighs, the way his cock hits deep and perfect on every roll of his hips. His pace is devastating, measured and punishing and so fucking good it sends white sparks bursting behind your eyelids.

You must be drooling into the desk, heat curling in your belly, orgasm building again, fast and dangerous and unstoppable. And behind you, Gojo's voice breaks on a groan as he mutters against your ear, "You gonna' come for me again, pretty girl? Wanna feel you s-squeeze me while I fill you up. You gonna' let me, yeah?"

Your answer is a breathless, wrecked moan, because yes, fuck, yes —

And that’s all he needs. You barely manage to stay standing.

Your legs are jelly, trembling under the weight of overstimulation and everything he's just done to you, your thighs slick with him, your blouse clinging to sweat-damp skin, buttons half-torn and collar askew. Your breath comes in short, uneven pants, chest heaving against the edge of the desk like it’s the only thing keeping you upright.

Gojo's still behind you, spurting cock slowly being dragged out of your puffy, twitching folds, not touching, but there, looming, panting, shirt untucked, white hair wild and matted with sweat. He looks ruined. Flushed. Like he’s just sprinted all sixty floors of the high-rise with you on his mind.

And then Gojo sees it.

The faint red imprint of his hand blooming across your hip. The angry mark his Prada belt buckle left above the curve of your ass. The glimmer of your slick smeared across his cock, still hard, twitching against his abdomen, and soaking into the fine dusting of white hair crawling over his groin, glistening like proof of what he just did to you.

Gojo's pupils dilate, and whatever blue was left in his eyes vanishes beneath the darker, more reverent hunger, "Mine," he murmurs, half to himself, voice hushed and hoarse, like he has to say it out loud to believe you're real, "You're mine."

You twist to look at him, wobbly on your heels but a faint ghost of a smile paints your lips all the same, "Yeah, Satoru?" you say, voice still a little wrecked, "Then sit down."

Gojo blinks, stunned for just a second, the most in-demand lawyer in the city whipped into flushed silence from the command. But you just jut your chin toward the couch, charcoal-grey leather, sleek and smooth.

"I said sit."

There's a pause. A flicker of something wild in Gojo's incredulous expression, like he wants to fight it. But then his lips part into a grin that borders on worshipping, like he's never been bossed around in his life and is so damn into it, "Yes, ma'am."

Gojo drops onto the couch, milky and muscular thighs spread wide, weeping cock hard and glistening and flushed an angry red from base to tip. White-haired head lolling back against the cushions as he exhales like a man undone. His tie is half-off, collar loose, suit beyond salvation.

You straddle him before he can get cocky again, knees pressed into the cushions, ruined skirt hitched around your waist, heat still pulsing between your legs as you slide over his broad lap. Gojo's hands fly to your hips automatically, gripping tight, like his body's already memorised every inch of your skin like a precious canvas already.

"I'm still ya' boss, you know," Gojo says, looking up at you through those sinfully pale lashes, trying for cocky and failing, it comes out breathless and wanting.

You roll your hips down slowly, grinding against Gojo's lap, until the head of his spurting cock slips against your entrance, snagging against your walls, and his head thunks back with a guttural groan and a raspy, "Fuck."

"Don't think so, 'Toru," you murmur, voice low, syrupy, and you can feel his cock twitch against your inner thigh, jumping at the abbreviated name, "Right now? I wanna' be in charge."

That does it. Whatever minuscule control Gojo had snaps.

He grips the plush flesh of your ass, and yanks you down as he thrusts up into you, burying himself to the hilt in one sharp, perfect stroke that leaves you gasping and mewling at the tip of his cock swabbing deeply within you.

It's so utterly messy and wet, and filthy, your bodies crashing together with the raw sound of sex, of urgency, of months, no, years of restraint finally shattered.

Gojo's hungry mouth finds your neck, open and greedy, licking and biting like he wants to leave a roadmap behind, a pattern he wants to follow forevermore. You gasp, manicured nails clawing down his chest, raking through the remnants of his tailored dress shirt.

"You like that?" You're whining, voice catching as your hips start to rock once more, adjusted to the sheer girth of him, pace steady and punishing, "Getting m-marked?"

"Fuck, yeah," Gojo groans, snapping his hips up so hard your breath stutters, and a steady plap! plap! plap! echoes in the empty office. "Want you to w-wreck me, doll. Wan' the whole d-damn firm to see I belong to you."

You're certainly not gentle when you kiss him again. You slam your mouth to his, teeth and tongue and something that tastes like vengeance and victory. He kisses back like he's still starving, like he hasn't eaten in weeks and you're his last meal, what he's been craving the most.

Somehow, somewhere in the chaos, his silky tie ends up wrapped loosely around your wrists, a makeshift restraint anchoring your hand to the back of his neck, keeping you steady as you bounce in Gojo's lap, feeling him sway the thick bulge of his cock in and out of you. You can feel the thrum of his pulse there, frantic and wild, syncing with yours.

"I dream about this, you know?" Gojo mutters against your mouth, nibbling on your glossy lower lip. "Y-you. Riding me and using m-me. Fuck, I wake up hard just thinking about your voice."

Your pussy must be drooling all over his lap, and your walls tighten around him and Gojo chokes, his blue eyes rolling back for a second as his chest flushes a pale shade of strawberry red.

"Then wake u-up, 'Toru," you whisper, lips brushing his jaw, gently nipping at the soft skin, "And t-take it."

And Gojo does. He thrusts his cock up into you, hard and deep, pace brutal and beautiful all at once. His hands are everywhere, gripping your hips, palming your breasts, fingers sliding down your spine to hold you in place while he slams into you with the rhythm of a man unhinged.

Gojo's mouth latches onto your collarbone, biting down hard enough to bruise, and when you do the same to his shoulder, he whines, "More," he begs, "Give me more. F-fucking ruin me. Leave your teeth in me, I'm yours."

His hand slips between your bodies, calloused thumb rubbing tight, fast circles over your clit as you ride him, and the pleasure builds fast, white-hot and sharp, until you're shaking with it, your moans dissolving into ragged gasps.

"Gojo, –" you breathe, barely above a strangled whisper as his cock carves out loud squelches and leaves you both boneless and breathless. Jewel-blue eyes snap up to yours like you’re divine.

"That's it," Gojo growls, lower lip slack as he watches the sticky, gluey strands of your arousal cling to his thighs, "C-come for me. Come allll over my cock n' be a good girl and fall apart, my girl."

And you do.

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, sudden and seismic, your whole body spasming, thighs locking around him as you cry out his name. Gojo watches, utterly spellbound, as you unravel, sweat-slick and stunning and trembling on his lap.

"F-fuck, fuck, sweetheart," Gojo gasps, hips stuttering, and soft strands of white hair falling over his eyes, "Holy shit, gonna come, fuck, I'm c-coming, –"

He spills inside you with a ragged moan, all thick, pearly seed and the rhythmic pulse of his cock's release as he thrusts deep, clinging to you like he never wants to let go. The aftershocks roll through both of you, sticky and breathless and all-consuming.

You collapse against his chest, both of you panting like you’ve run a marathon. Gojo's arms wrap around your back immediately, hands splayed across your spine, holding you like something sacred.

"Don't you dare quit on me," Gojo murmurs, voice hoarse and broken, "Swear to god, if you hand in your resignation, I'll follow you into retirement and eat you out every morning like it’s my full-time job. We can get a nice, shiny penthouse and, –"

You snort, still dazed, chin tucked into his shoulder, enveloped by the sheer, searing exertion rolling off him, intertwined with his signature, smoky scent, "You're insane."

"What?" Gojo breathes, that indignant tone creeping back up into his voice, as he trails long fingers up and down your back with slow, reverent strokes, "I'd make a hot trophy wife."

#gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru #gojo smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo #jjk #daphworks #just chugging thru some writing practice 💛

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moonchild9350 · 3 months ago

Text

Tangled in Your Everglow

summary: your hearts in two, your soul is torn but there’s healing possible if you make that leap and take a chance.

pairing: Hyunjin x fab!reader

genre: strangers to lovers au, angst, fluff, slow burn, smut-18+MDNI

word count: 14.9k

warnings: brief verbal abuse, crying, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, multiple rounds, nipple play, fingering, clit play, public sex, spanking, hair pulling, making love (i think that's it, if i left something off let me know!)

notes: i hope you enjoy this journey just as much as i did :). if so, let me know by liking, reblogging, and commenting!

please do not copy, translate, modify, or use this work elsewhere without my permission. ©️moonchild9350 (2025)

Heartbreak, despair. These are two words that you are unfortunately familiar with. The feeling of a thousand weights on your chest, crushing you, smothering you as your heart beats shattered and broken beneath all of the skin and sinew. Your head hasn’t felt clear in ages but instead feels fuzzy, as you go through each day as if on autopilot.

How does one get over heartbreak? Is it in the activities of your job? A day out with friends? Or maybe staring at yourself in the mirror night after night wondering what went wrong or why things never seem to work out for you.

You hate how much you give, how much you love, to those who don’t deserve it. How even after they have taken your heart and dragged it around in the mud you still give your all to them, hoping that they realize it was a mistake that everything will be fine and go on as normal.

You gave your heart to another person, went through the lies, the words, the expressions just to find out they did not want you anymore. All the years spent as a couple, a happy couple you thought, gone as if it never happened.

Your best friend thinks you should be over it by now, after all it’s been six months. How long does it take for you to get over someone? Apparently a long time. It’s not like you want to remain in the past, when you were happy with your partner, but there’s a disconnect between what your heart and mind wants and it’s just a confusing mess.

Scarlet, your best friend, is perched on your bed, swinging her legs back and forth as she examines her nails. She insisted on coming over to have an intervention with you, claiming it would be good for the soul.

“I don’t know why you won’t consider letting me set you up with Jake y/n, he’d be perfect for you,” she sighs as she watches you pace back and forth around your room.

You’ve been restless all night, the topic being love since she arrived. You love your best friend and understand she only wants to see you happy, but you’re not ready to date, to open your heart to another person.

Sighing you turned toward your friend and giving the most sympathetic look you said, “Scar, you know I’m not ready to get back out there. I’m still too…”

You paused for a moment considering what word would come out of your mouth next. What were you? Scared? Tired? Unhappy? Word after word floated through your brain, none of them seeming the right one to describe how you felt. However, the more you thought about it and the more Scarlet’s eyes focused on you, you came up with the perfect phrase. Fragile. Yes, you were still fragile, as delicate as a glass vase perched on the edge of a shelf, ready to fall at any moment and break into a million pieces.

“I’m still too fragile.”

Scarlet regarded you for a moment, taking in your disheveled look, the dark circles under your eyes, and how stressed you seemed. Her heart ached for you and she hated that you had gone through this, but she wanted to see you bubbly and happy again. She wants to see her happy go lucky friend.

“I know, but you need to start healing from this. Maybe you need to get away from it all. Go to a cabin or somewhere, breathe the fresh air and get a fresh start.”

A fresh start.

That sounded refreshing you couldn’t help but think as you turned to face your friend. She might be onto something. Getting away, just you and nature and solitude. Now that sounded perfect. You’ve always preferred solitude anyway.

“Yeah, I could go for that,” you said nodding.

You walked over and sat down next to Scarlet, grabbing your laptop to browse the internet. Luckily, you didn’t live far away from the mountains, the journey only being a short drive, so surely you’d be able to find a spot to retreat to for a while.

Many options popped up and you scrolled through all of them, asking Scarlet’s opinion on them and considering her feedback. However, none of the properties appealed to you as they were lacking the calmness and serenity you were seeking.

You were about to give up when a listing caused you to pause and look into it further. The home was beautiful, not too big but not too small that you’d feel like you were in a closet. It was located next to the lake, the waters glistening in the sun, seeming beautiful and smooth. The forest littered the background, the trees looming high above and inviting for you to come learn its secrets.

Deep down you felt like this was the place, the home you were meant to spend the summer at and heal. On the listing, there was a little bio about the owner, Hyunjin who seemed to be a five star host. That was good enough for you.

“I’m gonna book this place,” you told scarlet who scooted closer to peer over your shoulder at the screen.

“It looks beautiful and secluded, exactly what you need.”

You merely nodded agreeing with your friend. It is what you needed and deep within your heart you knew it was the right move to make. You looked at the dates available and as if it were fate, noticed it was open all summer. Selecting June to August and entering in your payment information, you pressed confirm, the confirmation page popping up shortly after.

It’s done.

You would spend a summer away, surrounded by nature and fresh air and the warm sun.

“Yay! It’s booked! Now let’s spend the rest of the night stuffing our faces with shit food and gossip until we pass out.”

You chuckled at your friend’s enthusiasm, grateful to have her in your life. She’s been there for you for years and helped you when your heart was freshly broken.

She came running when you called with the news, your eyes red and swollen from crying and snot running down your face.

“That son of a bitch, I’m going to kill them,” she exclaimed as she wiped your face, her eyes laced with concern. You recall how she tucked you in with a warm blanket and shoved a cup of tea in your hands and snuggled in next to you to just be there with you.

Now, you can’t help but smile as you watch her scramble around your room, setting the ambiance for the night, chatting away the whole time.

“So what are you looking forward to the most?” Scarlett asked as you both settled down, empty plates in front of you from dinner.

Thinking for a moment, you gazed out the window, taking in the skyline that you admired so much. “The solitude and peace, just knowing I’ll never see them again, especially in the middle of nowhere.”

Scarlet regarded your answer, letting out a soft hmm.

“You need this bestie. You need that spark back in your life. I know it’s been hard and I know you’re devastated about what happened, you definitely didn’t deserve it, but this will be the turning point. I can feel it in my bones.”

You smiled and gave your friend a hug, resting in the vanilla scent that you’ve come to grow used to. She’s right, it’s time to move on. Time to heal. You just hoped you will think the same when you’re by yourself for three months.

The time for your mini getaway arrived, quicker than expected, the warmth of spring giving way to the heat of summer. Your bags were packed and placed precariously by the front door, ready for when you’d need to leave later today.

You made sure your apartment was clean, everything put away for your absence. You’d miss the coziness of home, but you couldn’t back down…not now. Making sure you had everything you needed, you grabbed your bags and walked to your car. You were nervous. What if this didn’t work out? What if you’d have a breakdown in the middle of no where with no where to go?

Nervous thoughts continued to run through your mind as you slid into your car and turned the key, the car roaring to life.

“Here we go,” you murmured as you eased out of your parking space.

It would take you two hours to get there, the journey being a straight shot once on the interstate. You took small moments to admire the change in scenery, as it turned from overcrowded skyscrapers, to cozy suburban houses, to rolling country. It didn’t take long for the mountains to come into view, the peaks reaching high up as if it’s a beacon saying “I’m here, come journey within.”

You followed your gps, the robotic voice guiding you through twists and turns and wooded areas until the trees gave way to the lake. As you drove by, you couldn’t help but be in awe at the beauty of the body of water. The sun was shining down and casting sparkling rays, that it seemed as if the surface was glittering.

Turning onto a dirt road, you followed the path, your body slightly jostling as the tires rolled over the uneven road until a quaint house came into view, with a wrap around porch and a large welcome sign on the door.

“Wow,” you whispered taking in the abode, “this is something.”

Putting the car in park, you opened the door and got out, feet crunching on the gravel. As you made way to the trunk, the front door of the house opened, and a man walked out with a huge grin on his face.

You watched cautiously, ready to go into fight or flight mode, but was drawn at the looks of the man. He was beautiful, you couldn’t help but think his long, jet black hair that he had in a half up half down style perched gently at the nape of his neck. He was wearing a button down shirt that framed his toned arms and jeans that seemed a little fancy for the atmosphere he was in.

You’re not sure who he was as no where on the listing did it say “comes with a hot guy.” Fixing your face from a concerned look to a soft smile, you stood still as the stranger approached you.

“Y/n?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.

“That’s me.”

“Great! I’m Hyunjin the owner of this house. I’ll be helping out and dropping by to make sure your stay is nothing but wonderful. Can I help you with your bags?”

Hyunjin seemed chipper, too eager as if he was trying to make a good impression. And you guess he was since you’d wind up rating him at the end of your stay. Gesturing for him to go ahead, you watched as he lifted your suitcase out of the trunk, your eyes drifting down to his arms as they flexed with each movement.

He set the bag down and took a deep breath before letting it out. “Follow me.”

You nodded and followed him towards the house, your suitcase making a raucous as the wheels rolled over the gravel. As you stepped into the entrance way, you were taken aback by the home, the space seeming more cozy and beautifully decorated than the pictures showed.

The air conditioner was on full blast, the cool air wrapping around you in a cold embrace, cooling you off from the heat from outside. There was a sweet scent drifting through the air, a mixture of vanilla and chocolate that instantly made your mouth water. There were ceiling to floor windows on the far end, the forest visible but in a nonthreatening way. You wondered if you’d still have that thought later tonight.

“So this is the main area and to our right is the bedroom you’ll be staying in.”

Hyunjin walked to a door on the right, flipping the light switch on to illuminate the room. It was a truly beautiful room, the bed seeming very soft and comfy with the various blankets placed carefully on the bed. There was a nice sitting area in the corner of the room, and you could see yourself enjoying a peaceful afternoon there reading or sketching.

There was an in suite bathroom that was surprisingly not as elaborate as the other rooms, but still seemed nice enough.

Hyunjin rolled your bag to a corner and turned to face you. “There’s fresh baked cookies in the kitchen. Why don’t you join me for a snack and then we can chat about your stay.”

You knew you smelled something delicious and you weren’t let down. Cookies sounded great after traveling. You eagerly followed him to the kitchen, taking a seat in the chair that he offered you. Your eyes trailed behind him as he grabbed a plate and set two cookies down on them and placed it in front of you with a smile. He grabbed his own serving and sat across from you, his tongue dashing out to lick his lips as he stared at the warm cookie.

The first bite almost sent you to heaven, the gooey chocolate and soft dough melting on your tongue as the flavor of vanilla exploded on your tastebuds.

“These are amazing,” you moaned between bites.

“Thank you, I made them myself,” Hyunjin said proudly.

You noticed the dimples that appeared as he smiled, making him seem like a little kid. He truly was a beautiful man. Your mind began to wander, wondering how it’ll be to be in his company, but you were interrupted from your reverie by Hyunjin clearing his throat, a smirk on his face as if he knew what you were just thinking about.

“Oh wow, that’s impressive,” you said earnestly as you took another bite of your cookie.

“I cook, clean, and just make sure the grounds and house are up to standard. I would love to continue to do so during your stay if you don’t mind.”

Someone else doing the cooking and cleaning? Yes please. Who would you be to deny that?

“Of course, do whatever you have to.”

“Great! Well i have a key so I’ll be in in the mornings and then afternoons for breakfast and dinner. So don’t be alarmed if you hear someone moving around.”

You nodded, grateful for the warning because the first thing you’d think of if you heard something is an intruder.

“So what do you recommend for activities around here?” You might as well inquire about it since he was here. He seemed more than willing to share.

“Well there’s hiking. There are three trails you can explore. And the lake. It’s perfect for a dip after being in the hot sun or canoeing. There’s a little summer festival in town toward the end of summer. The house has a hot tub too, that’s around back and it’s open 24/7.”

There was definitely a lot to do and you’re sure you’d find more as the days went on. You honestly couldn’t wait to explore, to see what was beyond the trees, to breathe the fresh air and bask in the sun.

“Awesome, thank you Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin hummed in response, his eyes locked on you as if he was sizing you up. He kept his eyes on yours and at first it was fine but as minutes passed, you started to feel a little uncomfortable.

“So…uh, I guess I’ll get settled and if I need you, what’s the best way to get in touch?”

“Oh! Just text or call me. Here’s my number,” he said as he scribbled his number on a piece of a napkin.

You slid it closer to you and input the number in your phone. “Perfect thanks.”

“Of course and if you need anything just let me know. Have a good rest of the day y/n.”

Hyunjin got up and disposed of his trash and then let himself out, the front door closing with a soft click. You looked around and took in what would be your home for the next two months. It was quiet, with the occasional insects calling from outside. It was peaceful which is just what you needed.

Since it was getting darker, you decided to stay inside and unpack. The sunset was filtering in through the windows with vibrant shades of red, orange, and purple. Turning on your favorite playlist, you started putting things away. You explored a little as well, opening up drawers and glancing at pictures that were on display. You couldn’t help but admire the beauty as you’re sure these were photos of the mountains right outside your window.

After, you walked to the kitchen in search of food, after all that unpacking caused you to work up an appetite. But then you stopped in your tracks, remembering that you had no food besides the treats from earlier. You hoped that Hyunjin had left something in the fridge that you could easily cook up.

Opening up the fridge, you were greeted with the sight of a platter of meats and cheeses with a note placed on top of the plate explaining where the bread was for sandwiches. This little meal was okay with you. It was something easy and quick and still tasty.

You quickly made your sandwiches and brought the plate to the table and immediately began to dig in. The food was definitely hitting the spot, your hunger slowly ebbing away as you filled your stomach.

Once you were finished eating you took care of your plate and decided to shower, wanting to get an early night in after your travels today. The warm water felt amazing on your skin as the grim of the day washed down the drain. You lathered your body with your favorite body wash, the scent of strawberries wrapping around you in a soft embrace.

Getting out of the shower was not as fun as the cold hit your skin causing you to shiver. Cursing, you hurriedly dried yourself off and slipped into your warm pajamas.

Sliding under the plush covers was an experience of its own, the blankets slightly heavy to cradle you to sleep and soft to the touch making you melt instantly. You were out before you could count to ten, exhaustion taking over quickly. Your first day wasn’t so bad and Hyunjin seemed nice enough and your heart felt hope for the first time in a long time. -- — Hyunjin made his way home, his cabin not too far from the main house. His eyes focused on the road as the sky steadily became darker, the sun retiring and stars becoming brighter, but his mind was on you, his new tenant.

He rarely had single guests, most people visiting were couples or groups of friends wanting to experience nature but they end up being a nuisance instead. You seemed nice enough, shy and quiet, but friendly.

You had a melancholy aura around your figure, your body slightly haunched over and eyes filled with things you probably didn’t want to experience. He wonders why you came all the way out here, away from the city based upon the address you provided when you booked his place.

You had a story and a not so nice one at that. He could tell in your words, slow and drawn out as if it’s almost too tiring to speak and your voice as it barely rang out in the large space you two occupied briefly. He’s curious of that story, but that’s not his job.

All he can do is focus on making sure your stay is as comfortable and pleasant as possible.

You were able to sleep undisturbed for the first time in months, your eyes closing at the touch of your cheek on the soft pillow, your body tucked under the soft blankets. You were in shock at the fact as you laid in bed the following morning, rays of sunlight streaming through the windows alerting you that a new day has begun. You grabbed your phone and checked for messages, responding to the handful you received from Scarlet. You reassured her everything was fine, you slept well, and that the place was just as beautiful as in the photos. She seemed satisfied at your responses so you set your phone down and got up.

The bathroom was spacious and added to your morning routine, the water seeming extra crisp as it splashed against your face, your reflection in the mirror seeming even more appealing in the early morning hours which was never the case back home. Quickly, you brushed your hair and then threw on a pair of leggings and a loose shirt and padded to the kitchen.

You were in desperate need of coffee to help you fully face this day ahead. The coffee pot was placed conveniently on the counter with coffee grounds next to it. You set into the familiar feel of measuring out the grounds, one tablespoon to every eight ounces of water. Humming a little song, you pressed the power button and sounds of the gears coming to life filled the small space with the promise of a warm beverage in the near future.

Grabbing a mug, you poured some creamer in as you took a deep breath allowing the aroma of the coffee to penetrate your senses. You filled your cup with the steaming liquid and carried it to the porch, deciding to enjoy the early morning hours comfortably before the heat took over.

It was a beautiful day, the crisp morning air light as a gentle breeze came through tickling your skin. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, recognizing the scent of the pine trees and flowers that were nearby. If you focused hard enough, you could also smell the water, something soft and slightly sweet drifting through your nostrils.

Animals scurried about, completing their morning rituals before the heat of the day arrived. Your ears were filled with the various chirps of birds and the rustle of leaves, a mellow cacophony of sounds that put you at ease. Sip after sip, your coffee disappeared as you glanced around, taking in your surroundings and enjoying the peace and quiet, that is until you heard a bunch of branches snap as if a foot came down on the flimsy wood.

Hyunjin rounded the corner, dressed in sweats and a white t-shirt, and his hair pulled back. He smiled when he noticed you, his direction changing as he walked up to the porch.

“Morning y/n! Sleep well?”

You smiled in return, his cheery personality contagious on this warm, sunny morning. “Morning. I did, better than I have in a long time.”

“That’s good to hear,” Hyunjin hummed as he took a seat next to you. “I see you found the coffee pot.”

You merely nodded as you glanced down at your near empty cup. You wouldn’t mind having a second cup and wonder if you should offer some to Hyunjin. Looking up, your eyes met Hyunjin’s, his brown orbs trained on yours as he waited for you to speak.

“I’m going to grab another cup. Would you like one?” You asked as you got up and dusted the back of your pants with your free hand.

“Sure, I’d love that. Just black is fine.”

Disappearing through the door, you left Hyunjin on the porch. He wouldn’t mind. After all, you are bringing him back a cup of coffee. You poured yours and then grabbed another cup for him and filled it to the brim. Once back outside, Hyunjin graciously accepted the cup and took a sip as he glanced out at the lake that spread out before you two.

Hyunjin loves mornings out here, breathing in the cool, morning air, embracing the slight chill that prickles the skin, not enough to bundle up but enough to make the little hairs stick up on your arms. He loves the gentle lapping of the water along the shore and the occasional splash as a fish comes up to the surface as if it’s saying hello.

He sips more of his coffee, savoring the nutty taste of the blend, as you both remain quiet observing the view. You seem slightly more refreshed, yet still reserved, like something is on your mind.

He can’t help but turn to look at you, to take in how the sun is reflecting off your eyes causing them to shine and your long hair gently floating as a breeze passes through. He continues to stare until you realize his gaze is on you and you turn to look at him in turn. Hyunjin panics and scrambles for a way to ease the awkwardness.

“So what do you do for work?” He blurts out, silently cursing at such a cliche question.

You look at the man next to you, his face turning redder by the moment as he’s caught in his folly, and ponder his question. It’s a simple question really, one that you should be able to answer. However, a part of you is hesitant, cautious, not wanting to peel yourself back for this person. But, you’re being ridiculous, it’s just your job, so you say, “I work as a secretary at a law firm.”

Hyunjin nods, impressed by your answer. You take another sip of coffee, and then another and another until you drain the cup. Not sure what to do now, you sigh and then make to get up before Hyunjin stops you.

“Wait! Before you go, I was wondering if you’d like to go hiking with me? I can show you around the grounds, and maybe even teach you a thing or two.”

A hike? You haven’t hiked in ages, preferring to stay indoors if possible. But you can’t say no, not with how he’s staring at you with hope in his eyes, the curiosity burning within them to spend more time with you, pick you apart. You simply nod and reach for his cup, walking inside to set them in the sink before coming back outside.

“Let’s start over here. This trail is relatively easy and has some great views of the area.”

You nod and follow him, the leaves and dirt crunching under your feet as you take a step and then another and another. Your heart rate begins to increase, the blood working to pump throughout your body causing you to flush. Your breathing becomes more labored, but you try to control it not wanting to appear out of shape in front of this definitely fit man.

“So um, what brought you out here?” Hyunjin asks as he slows down to wait for you.

Taking a deep breath you let it out, your chest burning as your lungs inflate trying to gather oxygen. “Just needed to get away,” you murmur, as you focus on the ground trying not to trip over the many rocks scattered throughout.

You say nothing else which shocks Hyunjin. Was he out of line? He didn’t mean to make you feel cornered and him seem nosy. He was just making small talk, which seems like a no go for you. Instead of following up with another question, he walks on, his sight straight ahead.

You’re miserable. Your legs hurt, you can’t breath and you’re starting to sweat profusely, your body not used to this type of what you call vigorous exercise. You are walking up a mini hill now as you both make your way up the mountain, trees closing in on either side of you, with an occasional peak of the lake below.

Your mind is elsewhere and you try to distract yourself from this situation until you hear a huff and a thud. Stopping in your tracks, you stare startled at Hyunjin who is now on the ground on hands and knees completely still.

“Hyunjin! Are you okay?” You shout as you run to his side to help him up.

“Yep, yep…just uh…just tripped over a rock is all.”

Hyunjin stands up and begins to dust himself off, his face a brilliant shade of red. You can’t believe it, but this nature master has tripped over a tiny rock, the culprit a few feet away from where his foot made contact. You smirk and cover your mouth, trying not to laugh. However, one look at Hyunjin’s face and you lost it. You double over in laughter, the soreness of your body and fatigue long forgotten.

“Hey now! It’s not funny!” Hyunjin whines and crosses his arms as he pouts.

He looks adorable, like a child that didn’t get their way. Wiping the stray tears that have fallen from your eyes, you reach out to place a hand on his shoulder. “You’re right it’s not…it’s hilarious.”

Hyunjin huffs and mumbles something under his breath before turning away to continue walking up the trail. You follow close behind, feeling slightly more energetic after that little mishap. The gaps between the trees were widening and the sun filtered through the further you both walked. Before you knew it, you arrived at a rock that was blocking the path.

“We’re here,” Hyunjin said as he gazed at the top of the structure.

You stared at him giving him a look of confusion. Maybe that fall caused him to lose it because all you can see is a large rock in front of you. However, you didn’t have to wonder for long what Hyunjin meant.

“Well, let’s start climbing. Shouldn’t take long.”

“Wait…climb? We’re climbing that thing?!”

You stared at Hyunjin dumbfounded. There was no way in hell you’d be able to climb that. But Hyunjin began the process, placing one hand on a ledge and hoisted himself up. He slowly but skillfully climbed the mountain, his effort making the whole process seem easy. Not wanting to be left behind, you sighed and approached the rock.

Placing a hand on one of the ledges, you began the ascent, the pull on your muscles causing sharp pains to travel throughout your body. Despite your body protesting against your actions, you continued to climb, coaching yourself silently ‘right hand, left foot, left hand, right foot’ over and over until you reached the top.

Hyunjin was already there and helped pull you up, your limbs touching solid ground at last. Your breath was coming in short bursts, your arms aching and legs tingling.

“Come on y/n, come look at this.”

Taking a deep breath you stood up and dusting your hands before making your way to where hyunjin was standing. As you approached, you could understand why he wanted to make the climb. The scene was breathtaking, the valley below spread for as far as the eyes could see. The lake with its blue waters was huge, completing the scene straight out of a postcard. You couldn’t help but stare in awe at the beauty.

A feeling of peace rushed through your body, the pain that was ever present before slowly dissipating. You briefly closed your eyes and breathed in deeply, feeling the rush of air in your nostrils, letting it fill your lungs before letting it out, your eyes slowly opening to gaze at the scene before you.

Hyunjin watched you, softly smiling at how at peace you looked; a look that was so different from your expression when he first laid eyes on you. He felt a warmness towards you. Yes, you seemed quiet and reserved, but in this moment, Hyunjin feels he was able to see into your soul and a little bit of what plagued your beautiful mind escape and float away.

You both stayed there, standing side by side in silence, gazing at the scenery before you. The birds twittered and flew around, the sun continued to shine, and a soft breeze wrapped its tendrils around you both, cooling you off after the hike. The moment was serene, that is until it was interrupted by Hyunjin’s voice.

“Let’s head back.”

You nodded and turned around to go back where you started and began the descent, which seemed much easier than the way up. Hyunjin guided you down the trail chattering away about the lore of the forest and how it’s filled with everything you needed for survival. He seemed very knowledgeable about it which you were grateful for because you didn’t know one iota about the forest.

Once back at the house, he left you at the front steps, thanking you for accompanying him. You really had fun now that you could look back at your journey. Hopefully he’d take you hiking again soon.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Hyunjin sheepishly asked before adding, “If that’s okay.”

You grinned at the correction, finding it cute. Wait? Why did you find that cute? He’s just asking you a question. Wiping the smile off of your face you gave him a fixed look before simply nodding your consent. He cocked his head at your response, slight confusion on his face. He seemed like he wanted to say something about your sudden change in demeanor but decided against it because he slightly bowed and then walked off.

You watched him leave before going into the house, your body screaming for a shower. Quickly, you gathered your shower supplies and stepped under the warm stream of water, letting the jets soothe your aching muscles. You thought back to the hike, to how Hyunjin didn’t mind that it took you forever to catch up to him. How he filled the space with chatter, his gentle voice waking something in you that honestly left you terrified. He’s just your host and it needs to stay like that.

Coming to that resolve, you continued your shower quickly. After drying off, you slipped into some comfy sweats and a t-shirt and plopped down on the bed, letting out a content sigh. You closed your eyes for a quick rest, but within moments you were out, your mind and body exhausted from today’s activities. Despite the early hours, you slumbered peacefully dreaming of fields and flowers and a handsome man. A man that seemed to look an awfully lot like Hyunjin.

The days passed, many of them spent in Hyunjin’s company. You went on a few more hikes, venturing out to the more advanced trails each time. Surprisingly, you were able to keep up, your stamina building with all of the walking you were doing. Hyunjin taught you all about the arbor life in the area, pointing out which trees are which and explaining the different patterns of the bark of the tree to help you in your identification.

Most people would find that boring, you included, however listening to Hyunjin talk about things he loves is a sight you are so happy you have been blessed to see. His eyes sparkle brightly, illuminating his beautiful face as he gestures wildly with his hands, speaking so fast you have to beg him to slow down occasionally. The resultant giggle and ‘sorry’ that comes out of his mouth is so cute, as his cheeks heat up to a brilliant shade of pink and he bites his plush lips that look delicious.

You’ve grown used to his presence, expecting him to show up at the house after breakfast. You’re starting not to mind the company, feeling a stirring inside that you choose to not acknowledge, not wanting to face what it means.

It’s a cloudy day, the sky darkening by the minute and seeming ominous. You notice the trees swaying back and force through the window as you sip on a cup of coffee. The air feels thick and sticks to your skin making you feel sticky instantly. You are starting to feel worried that a storm may be coming in.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to calm your anxiety that is prickling at the edges of your mind. You breathe in and out slowly again and again until there’s a loud knock on your door, followed by a deep voice calling out to you.

Hyunjin.

You turn to see him bounding into the room, his hands full of bags filled with food. “Hey y/n! A storm is coming in so I brought you some groceries just in case.”

“Thanks…wait, just in case?” You inquire. Why would there need to be a just in case?

“Yeah, the storms can get pretty bad up here and so it’s always good to be prepared.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat as Hyunjin confirmed your worse nightmare. “Oh…right,” you mumble as you try to hide your fear.

Hyunjin is chatting away about the weather as he puts your food away, filling the once silent space with sound in which you’re grateful. You hurry to close all the windows as the wind picks up and the sky grows ever more darker. As you latch the last window, the sky opens up and fat rain drops pound against the glass accompanied by thunder that shakes the frame of the house.

You quickly step away from the glass, backing away slowly as your breath comes in short pants. Your vision becomes blurry and you float to a different time and place, one where you were with ‘him.’

flashback Theo I’m scared…” you stood in the center of the room, frozen in place as your body trembles. A storm was raging outside and you were terrified of the sounds and the rapid lightning.

Your boyfriend Theo was sitting on the couch, tapping away on his controller ignoring you like you weren’t even there.

”Theo?” You whimpered, walking closer to the couch. Suddenly he threw his headset to the ground and stood up to face you catching you off guard. You took a step back as you were scared at what he would do or say next.

”Y/N, you are such a scared piece of chicken shit. What are you, five? It’s just a storm get over it and let me play my game.”

You watched as he sat back down and put his headset back on, complaining to the guys on the other end that his girlfriend was having another tantrum. You felt hurt inside and still scared, not knowing what to do as the storm raged on. Instead you opted to sit down in a corner, drawing your knees to your chest as tears fell down your face. ‘It’ll be okay, it’ll be okay,’ you repeated over and over until…

“Y/n? Hey you okay?”

You startle out of your reverie at the feel of Hyunjin’s hand on your shoulder. His face is laced with concern as he stares at you to make sure you’re okay.

“Um, yeah, I’m fine…just uh…remembered something. A memory.”

Hyunjin nods at your answer and drops his hand. “Wanna talk about it?”

You merely shake your head no and set the cup down that you were holding. Hyunjin continues to stare, confused as to what happened. He can tell you were elsewhere, somewhere in your past. Your expression was melancholic but you were trembling as if you were scared. He finds himself becoming more curious about you by the day.

At that moment, another rumble of thunder occurred and you let out a yelp, clasping your hands over your mouth in surprise. It was almost like a lightbulb went off over his head.

“You’re scared of storms,” he says matter of factly, happy that he put it together.

You hesitated for a moment but eventually mumbled a yes. “Sorry, I know it’s childish.”

“What do you mean? No it’s not. We all have something we’re scared of.”

You looked up at his statement, shocked that he wasn’t going to berate you for your fears. However, he is right. You wonder what Hyunjin’s fear is?

“How about I stay here with you during the storm…like a mini sleepover that lasts a few days,” he chuckles. “We can start by making dinner?”

You accept his offer without any hesitation, feeling safe whenever he is around. You are shocked by that revelation and a little scared as your heart is starting to lead you to dangerous territory. However, you don’t have long to ponder as Hyunjin beckons you to the kitchen.

He begins to pull out ingredients after playing some music. He hands you a chopping board and a few bell peppers. “Wanna chop these up?”

You nod and take the items and get to work, falling easily into the routine of cooking. It’s a fun affair as you both dance your way through the space, bumping into each other occasionally. Hyunjin belts out the tune that’s playing, very off key but with a smile on his face the whole time. At one point he drops what he is holding and grasps your hands just to spin you around the kitchen.

At first you were shocked but slowly you find yourself begin to smile until your laughter bubbles up and out. It’s a refreshing sound, one you almost forgot how it sounded. You fully embrace the moment and twirl around, spurred on by Hyunjin’s chants.

You grow dizzy though and soon have to stop and gratefully accept the glass of water that Hyunjin hands you. He smiles and then gets back to work, checking the pots on the stove while you finish your drink. You both work in harmony, working in haste to finish the food. Your belly is rumbling at the smell of the chicken dish and you try to sneak a bite while he’s not looking.

However, he spins around at the last second and catches you with the fork halfway to your mouth. “Y/n! No taste testing, it’s almost done!”

You giggle and shove the chicken in your mouth anyway, savoring the juicy flavor. Hyunjin merely pouts and grabs some plates and you hurry over to help him. Once your table of two is set, you both sit down with your meal and begin to eat, listening to the storm that is still going on outside. You find that you don’t even care anymore, feeling safe and less anxious around Hyunjin.

He engages you in chatter, something you find is easy to do with him. The words and drink flow and it becomes darker outside, as night knocks on the door to take over. Hyunjin gathers the dirty dishes and admonishes you as you attempt to help. You try to gather the dishes, but he threatens to tickle you instead and you give up instantly.

“Let’s watch a movie,” Hyunjin suggests once he’s done cleaning. He plops down on the couch and pats the space next to him.

You nervously sit down, placing your hands in your lap. Hyunjin throws a blanket over both of you and grabs the remote, his focus on picking the perfect movie. It’s thirty minute affair, but a movie is picked, a romantic comedy that you are shocked he agreed to watch.

He acts offended and gasps as he clutches his chest. “How dare you?! I am a huge fan of romantic comedies. I will not cry…nope not once during the movie.”

You chuckled, somehow doubting his statement. You’d have to keep a look out for the tear factory. The movie begins and you both focus your attention on the screen. You feel yourself melting into Hyunjin’s side, chasing his warmth and comfort as you continue to eye the window.

You try to focus on what’s going on in front of you, but your attention is easily diverted to outside, watching the flashes of lightning light up the dark sky. Hyunjin notices you, notices how you twitch under the blanket, how your eyes dart to the window, how you bite your lip over and over. He reaches out a hand and places it gently on your knee.

You look at the hand, taking in the rings that litter each finger and then drag your gaze to Hyunjin’s face. There is something there, etched onto his handsome face, a look you can’t quite place.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” he whispers and you don’t have to question further what he meant.

He’s so much different than your ex. Hyunjin is gentle, kind, considerate of your feelings. He makes you feel safe and wanted. Even now your heart beats wildly within your chest and butterflies tumble in your belly causing you to blush furiously. Cautiously, you reach a hand up to his face, making contact with his soft skin.

You feel his breath on your wrist, nice and warm just like his soul. He gazes into your eyes, searching for your story, what makes you who you are. You keep it safe and locked up, deep in your psyche where no one can touch it, unpeel it, study it. Your eyes stare into his and then travel to his lips as you wonder how they would feel on yours.

Hyunjin seems to be able to read your mind because he gently grasps your face and leans forward, slowly until you can feel his breath blow across your face. You hear him swallow and then mumble something so deep, the words only come out as a rumble within his chest. You are about to lean away, your mind catching you slowly but surely to what your heart wants when he presses his lips against yours and holds them there.

He doesn’t move but holds your face against his before he leans away slightly. ‘Now’ you think but Hyunjin kisses you again and again in a soft and sweet manner. He shuffles closer to you and lightly strokes your face, marveling at how you feel against him. You feel your heart rate increase, the constant thump thump echoing in your ears.

It’s too much, it’s too gentle. You’re not ready for that yet, to be worshipped and treated as if you were the most precious jewel on the planet. Your breath comes in short pants, your hands become clammy. Hyunjin doesn’t catch the hint, but instead continues to press his plush lips to yours as if he’s memorizing how you feel.

You quickly grasp his shirt in your hands and bunch it up tightly and deepen the kiss, taking Hyunjin by surprise. He doesn’t stop but instead matches your fervor, devoting you whole as your lips clash together. You shove your tongue into his mouth and he lets out a moan, his hands reaching for your waist to pull you on top of him.

You are quick to grind your core over his bulge, savoring how his covered length feels against you. It isn’t long until you are desperate, wanting to feel him inside. Your hands drift to his pants and you attempt to free his cock but he stops you with a grasp on your wrist.

“Wait, we should do this right don’t you think?”

He goes to lay you on your back, but you quickly scramble to a seated position. “No, not that way…” Hyunjin stares at you in confusion, but decides to let it go as he’s just as desperate as you are.

He quickly rids himself of his clothes and you follow suite before getting on your hands and knees. You gaze out of the windows into the darkness, holding your breath as Hyunjin breaches your entrance, slowly pushing in until he’s flushed against your ass. He stills for a moment to allow you to adjust, but you feel your anxiety mounting inside your chest. “Move,” you command before adding “hard.”

Hyunjin is shocked, not sure if he should comply, but he’s quick to withdraw his cock just to slam into you as you command him to move again. He sets a rapid pace, causing you to groan out. You are reveling in the feel of his cock brushing your walls, his thick cock spreading you open with each thrust. The pain feels so good, reminding you of what you are, who you are.

“Touch my clit,” you pant out, letting out a moan as he immediately complies, swirling his finger around the bud over and over.

You listen to how he takes you, how his moans ring in your ears, drowning out the rain that hits the windows, or the thunder that rumbles. You can tell he’s close and your grateful, not wanting to think about the fact that he was a good fuck, no not good but incredible even. No, you’re not allowed to go there, to jump off the deep end and enjoy everything this man offers to give you.

But you will enjoy how he touches you, fucks you, brings you to climax in record speed. You whimper as your orgasm spreads through you in waves and you clench down on Hyunjin’s cock over and over again, trying to keep him inside. It’s too much for him and he comes a few thrusts later, filling you up with his hot cum causing you to shudder at the feeling.

You lay down as Hyunjin catches his breath above you. You focus on breathing in and out, in and out as he leaves to fetch a towel to clean you up. Hyunjin helps you up once you’re clean and cradles you to his chest, rubbing gentle circles on your back. You feel yourself slipping, deeper and deeper into the abyss, a place you vowed to never go to again, in fear of being hurt.

However, as you listen to Hyunjin’s heart beat, and feel his warmth seep into your naked body, you can’t help but succumb to the feeling within; that feeling that you are safe and you will be okay, if only Hyunjin can stay by your side. -- — Hyunjin startles awake and stares at the ceiling, one he isn’t accustomed to seeing. It takes a moment for him to realize he’s not at home and that there’s a body tucked into his side. He realizes he’s at the guest house and that you’re here with him. It dawns on him that you’re both naked, bodies pressed together and sharing warmth.

He can’t help but look down at your sleeping face which is etched with an impression he can’t quite make out. Your hand rests gently on his belly, your chest rises and falls slowly, steadily signaling that you’re in deep sleep. He can’t help but stare at your breasts, how perfect they are. He shifts a little and your nipple brushes ever so lightly against his side and puckers, causing him to bite his lip.

Hyunjin breathes in deeply and lets out his breath, calming himself down so he doesn’t seem like a horn dog. Instead, he stares out the window, seeing that morning is coming, the light getting brighter with each passing moment. Soft drizzle litters the glass with an occasional rumble of thunder and he feels himself becoming drowsy, sleep threatening to take over once more.

He holds you closer and pulls the blanket over your body and places a soft kiss to the top of your head. You don’t stir or make a sound, as you're still wrapped up in whatever dream is dancing across your mind. Hyunjin closes his eyes and relaxes, thanking his lucky stars that your path has crossed his.

You awake to the sound of sizzling and the scent of bacon. You sit up and rub your eyes, adjusting to your surroundings. The rain is pattering against the windows and it’s gray and dismal outside. You can hear Hyunjin whistling a tune as he cooks completely unaware that you’re awake.

It’s the perfect opportunity to sneak away to the bathroom and you do so, wrapping the blanket around you. The warm water feels good on your body as your sore, particularly in an area you haven’t been in quite a while. The feel of his cock is etched into your brain and the way he stretched you out perfectly.

A thought comes to the forefront of your mind and you shiver despite the warmth of the water caressing your skin. You like Hyunjin. You’re completely thrown off, confused and scared. You don’t want to open your heart and let him into the little crevices that have appeared over the years.

But this trip is also supposed to be a break from reality and lending your heart to him is exactly that right? As you stand there in the large shower, you come to a decision that you’d just enjoy yourself and let consequences be bygones.

After your shower, you dress in cozy clothes and pad to the kitchen. Hyunjin greets you with a smile and sets down a plate of food on the table.

“Breakfast is served!” He says in a sing song voice.

You chuckle and sit down and immediately dig in as you’re starving. Hyunjin joins you and you both eat in silence listening to the rain instead. You don’t look at the man in front of you but keep your gaze down on your plate. So when Hyunjin speaks, you're briefly startled.

“So wanna take it easy today? I mean…not that we have a choice,” he adds after considering what he said.

“I think that sounds perfect,” you respond, shoving another piece of pancake in your mouth.

“Excellent, let the rest of the sleep over commence!”

Hyunjin jumps up and cleans away the dishes and makes his way to the living area and turns the tv on. He sits on the floor and beckons you over once you’re down eating.

You decide to do a little reading so you grab your book and plop down in front of him and lean back against his chest. His body feels amazing behind you, warm and hard and perfect. You’re aware of how his breath fans across your neck, his giggles as he sees something funny on the screen.

You feel warmth in your core and your arousal trickle slowly out of your pussy, causing you to clench your thighs. Your eyes remain on your book, but you can’t comprehend anything as you’re preoccupied with the man behind you.

You hear a grunt and you almost turn around when Hyunjin murmurs “don’t,” low in your ear. You gasp and hold your breath as he drifts his lips across your ear and down to your neck. It isn’t long until he’s pressing wet kisses along your skin. His hands drift to your thighs and he holds them there, teasing you slowly, carefully until you mewl in desperation, wanting him to touch you more where you want him the most.

“Patience,” he hums in your ear again as if he can read your mind.

You tremble as he drags his fingers higher and higher until he reaches your waistband and slips his thumb inside. He slowly dips his hand further within the fabric until his long and nimble fingers reach your panties where he plays with the little bow that adorns the front of the fabric.

His breath is heavy and his cock hard as he presses you slightly into him, giving him the friction he craves. You adjust yourself slightly, your book slipping through your fingers when he tuts and picks the book up.

“Keep reading, don’t let me stop you.”

You attempt to read the words on the page but they blur together and you can’t focus. His hands slip into your panties and he runs his fingers through your wet folds and circles a digit around your clit, teasing, pitching until you’re panting, your chest rising rapidly as the pleasure takes over. Hyunjin is guiding you through it, whispering words of praise into your ear, accompanied by the occasional groan as he’s affected by your voice, echoing throughout the room.

Your slick coats his fingers, aiding in his ministrations and he lets out a hiss as his fingers slip causing you to whine at the mishap. He’s quick to find your clit again and begins to apply more pressure and circle his finger faster. You toss your head back onto Hyunjin’s shoulder, your book long forgotten as you chase that feeling that is beginning to spread, seeping into the very fiber of your being.

There’s a thud, as the book falls onto the floor and your hands grip his arms and you squeeze, so hard that Hyunjin lets out a groan as his head falls onto your shoulder. His breath is hot on your skin and you feel his teeth graze the area until he bites down, his teeth forming small craters in the otherwise smooth area.

The pain shoots through your body and mingles with the pleasure you’re feeling and you clench down, wishing for his cock inside you, stretching your pussy wide and making you feel full. He brings his other hand up and wraps his lithe fingers around your throat, squeezing ever so slightly that causes you to gasp.

His voice is gruff in your ears as he mumbles, praising you, teasing you, calling you a good girl, begging you to come, to flood his fingers with your arousal. You want to, let go and succumb to the pleasure that he’s giving you, but you need more, an extra push to get you over the edge that you desperately need. Hyunjin senses this, can tell you’re begging for something as he stares at your lips.

“Harder,” they seem to say and he chuckles as he tightens his hold around your neck all the while continuing to play with your clit. The sound of how turned on you are forms a symphony with your moans as they become more high pitch with each passing second.

You’re there, right on the cusp. You feel the oxygen slowly being cut off from your lungs, your brain feeling fuzzy and the room slightly spinning in front of you. The coil rapidly builds, tightens until it snaps and explodes with white hot pleasure that travels through your body and causes your toes to curl. Your vision goes dark for a moment and a high pitch buzz is echoing in your ears.

Seconds later, you hear Hyunjin’s deep voice in your ear, coaxing you to come back as he presses sweet kisses to your cheek, your neck, the corner of your lips.

“Welcome back,” he chuckles as you blink a few times, attempting to clear your vision.

You lay against him and try to calm your breathing, the rush of oxygen filling your lungs once more. You feel like you can feel the blood rush through your veins, traveling through your body, providing blood to areas that were briefly devoid of it.

“How long was I out?” You mumble as you struggle to sit up.

“Less than minute, so not long. Rest, I’ll go grab you some water.”

You lay back and watch as he shuffles to the kitchen, closing your eyes as you listen to the rain that has steadily pounded the windows. You open them to receive the water that Hyunjin hands you and greedily sip from the cup, feeling parched after your orgasm.

Hyunjin changes the channel and watches the screen, silent and focused as if he didn’t just give you a mind blowing orgasm. You’re left confused, but wondering why. It’s just sex, nothing more. You’ll spend the summer with him and then leave. But if that’s the case, why do you feel a pang in your heart after these moments? Why do you feel like you want to reach out to him, kiss his plush lips and share your hopes and dreams with him?

There are constantly butterflies floating around in your stomach, that fluttering feeling you’re attuned to that you only attribute to someone you’re interested in. You’re not interested in Hyunjin…right?

Hyunjin can tell you’re lost in your own world, your eyes unfocused and gaze somewhere else. He wonders what is going through that beautiful mind of yours. He can’t help but think back, how you look at him as if he’s the best thing in the world, but at the same time with reservation; as if he’s a tiger with his claws out ready to pounce.

He’s worried for you, concerned at your demands for harshness, something he’s not accustomed to. He wishes he can be the opposite, someone sweet, attending to your needs, loving instead of rough, demanding, and almost borderline cruel. You still haven’t divulged why you made this trip, away from the city into the middle of nowhere. Would it be wrong for him to ask again while you’re still slightly elsewhere in some other world?

Hyunjin knows it would be wrong, but decides to take advantage of the situation and ask anyway. Clearing his throat, he softly calls your name, his breath catching as you turn to look at him, your eyes slowing refocusing.

“So what brought you out here?” He’s blunt with his question, hoping you’ll catch his drift and answer.

You’re slightly taken aback by his question, your mouth dropping slightly. However, you recover quickly and drink the rest of your water and set the cup down. You take a moment to think, the pleasant feeling you were experiencing quickly ebbing away. You twinkle your thumbs, and consider if you should dive into your past, spill it all for this person who is practically a stranger. The last thought makes you chuckle because is he even a stranger? After all, he’s touched you in places that haven’t been touched in months and made you feel on cloud nine.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me,” he mumbles, a twinge of disappointment in his voice.

“No, it’s okay. I went through a bad breakup and he wasn’t the nicest. He wasn’t a nice person.”

You leave it at that and there’s silence filling up the space. You play with the fringe of the shirt you’re wearing, not wanting to meet Hyunjin’s eyes. One minute passes and then two and then three and you think Hyunjin will not reply until a moment later he does, his voice pregnant with pity.

“I’m sorry.”

Two little words that you’ve heard so much over the last year. Two little words that at first caused you to break down in tears due to your anguish that now fill you with anger. The feeling swirls around inside you, growing larger with each second until it threatens to burst out of you like a balloon with too much air. This is the opposite as to why you went on this trip. You didn’t want to think of your past and failures, the man that you called yours for so long.

Getting up, you turned to face Hyunjin, the shock on his face not fazing you. The anger bubbles, festers until it spills over, white hot and lethal.

“I don’t need your pity!” You screech, your face your sure is one of pure terror to the man sitting on the couch. “That’s all anyone says is I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Everyone but the one person who should have said it, apologized for the shitty things he did to me!”

You hate getting angry because when you do, the angry switches to something else. The flame dies, sputtering out and is replaced with sorrow, the pressure settling in your chest. You feel the tears gather in your eyes and you will yourself not to cry in front of Hyunjin who is now giving you a sad look. You fight hard, ball up your fists, breathe through your nose until you can’t hold it and the first tear slides down your face.

However, once one tear surfaces, more follow until they’re running like a faucet, tainting your face with water. You sink to your knees again and cover your face in your hands and cry, the sobs wrecking your frame as you mumble “Why didn’t he say sorry? What’s wrong with me,” over and over.

Hyunjin slides down to the floor and gathers you in his arms and buries his head in the crook of your neck. “Shh, shh, it’s okay y/n. I won’t bring it up again okay? I promise.”

You cry into his shirt, vaguely hearing his words. Your fingers grasp the material and you tug on it, gently the first time and then a little harder and then even harder still until he catches a hint. He lets his guard down briefly, and in that moment you push him down, not paying attention to the surprise that’s etched into his face.

You quickly shuck your shirt off to Hyunjin’s chagrin and grasp his hands to place them on your breasts. He’s hesitant at first, debating whether he should give into your administrations when you’re so distraught. However, the look you give him with your tear stained face decides for him and he massages the flesh, his lips falling open at the breathy moan you let out.

He teases your nipples and looks down at the mounds, mesmerized at how they harden at his touch, little pebbles beginning to pop up. Hyunjin brushes his thumb over the nubs, just a feather light touch over and over, memorizing your sighs as you push your breasts into the palms of his hands more.

Hyunjin feels himself fill out in his sweats, rather quicker than usual, the feeling becoming more uncomfortable as time passes. As if you can read his thoughts, you reach into his sweats and pull his cock out, smoothing your finger against the tip, spreading the precum that has gathered there around. You quickly rid yourself of your panties and then lift your hips, aligning yourself with his cock at your entrance.

Slowly, you sink down, taking all of him, tossing your head back in ecstasy at the stretch in this position. You waste no time and begin bouncing on his length, chasing the pleasure that is slowing replacing the sorrow that you felt previously. You revel at the moans falling from Hyunjin’s lips, savoring how his hands grip your waist tightly and the pain that arises when he digs his fingers into your skin.

He quickly takes over and guides your hips, dragging your pussy against his cock. You look down and take in your slick that now coats his pelvis and the hairs that litter the area. You don’t dare look at his face, not wanting to see his blown out pupils, his pants open as he pants at the feel of your warm pussy wrapped tightly around him.

Hyunjin knows you don’t want soft and sweet now but yet rough, so he brings a hand down to your ass, the sound of his palm hitting the flesh ringing out in the room. His hand comes down again and again, his cock twitching at how your ass jiggles with contact. You are perfect, just absolutely perfect in his eyes. He notices you slow down, your face now buried in his neck.

“Keep riding, don’t stop. Make yourself come,” he growls as he grips your hips tightly again.

You whine and speed up the motions of your hips, lost in the drag of his length against your walls, reaching your sweet spot and making your walls clench in response. The pressure begins to build within, slowly taking over and spreading warmth throughout your body. You are drenching Hyunjin’s cock, the sound of your wet pussy making Hyunjin lose his mind.

“So wet for me. All for me hm?” He teases, guiding your hips faster and faster until you’re moaning loudly in his ear.

“Mm gonna come,” you whimper.

“Yeah? Gonna come for me love? Go on then, come on my cock.”

Between his raspy voice in your ear and the pressure against your sweet spot you let go, your arousal gushing out of your entrance and coating Hyunjin’s pelvis and thighs. You let out a cry as you desperately ride his cock, savoring that high that you needed, obsessed with the way his cock felt inside you as your walls spasmed around it.

“That’s it,” Hyunjin groans as you clench around him until he lets go, filling you up with his cum.

You collapse against his body as he holds you, his fingers drifting softly up and down your spine. You’re breathing heavy and you find yourself nuzzling into the crook of his neck. There’s a shift in the air, if ever so softly that neither one of you acknowledges. You feel at ease, content against Hyunjin, savoring how his body feels against yours, how comfortable you are as he soothes you.

Hyunjin holds you with affection, making sure you are supported as you come down from your high, so different than the other few times you’ve shared together. He smiles as he feels you relax into him and he lets out a content sigh. The tv still plays, the actors and actresses acting out some scene and the rain still patters against the window, but the two of you are silent, enjoying each other’s warmth and comfort.

Eventually, Hyunjin stands up and brings you with him and walks to the bedroom, placing you within the warmth of the blankets. He slides in next to you and pulls you close, and watches as you snuggling into his chest and slowly drift to sleep. He watches your face, takes in the soft features as your eyelids flutter, your brain likely dreaming. As he stares at the beautiful woman in his arms, he slowly drifts to sleep himself, letting the feel of your warmth and sound of the rain and thunder lull him to sleep.

After that night, you both share a new routine, as Hyunjin stays most nights with you. Neither one of you speak of what occurred, what was discussed or lack of but instead embrace the new feelings.

Your time is slowly coming to an end and Hyunjin is determined to fill it with activities. You both are floating in the lake, the cool water kissing your skin nicely on this sweltering day. Hyunjin swims towards you and then splashes water in your face, chuckling as you let out a shriek. He does it a few times before snatching you in his arms, holding you close.

You giggle as he places a kiss to your nose and you wrap your arms tighter around his neck. His face is even more beautiful in the sun, with droplets of water slowly dripping down, his hair plastered to his face haphazardly. His eyes sparkle as they take you in and roam down your face to your lips which slightly part as if in invitation.

Hyunjin closes the gap between you and locks his lips with yours. It starts innocent enough but soon turns heated as his tongue tangles with yours and his hands pull you closer, urging you to wrap your legs around his waist. Still connected, he somehow wades his way to the shore and before you know it you’re both back on the sand.

He lays you down and flips you over, the unspoken rule between you two observed without question. Your swim bottoms are untied and fall away from your body and your legs spread, making room for him to take you. You sigh as Hyunjin breaches your entrance and begins snapping his hips into yours, fucking you just how you like it.

He reaches for your ponytail and pulls, a loud groan gracing your ears as he reaches deeper within you. He easily finds your spot that makes your toes curl as he spends time nearly everyday memorizing every part of you. He reaches around you and finds your clit, swirling quick circles around your bundle of nerves. He fucks you hard and fast, needing his release just as much as you need yours. His eyes travel to wear you meet his thrusts, his eyes glued to your ass, to how your pussy grips his cock and sucks him back in.

Hyunjin’s hips snap faster into yours, his rhythm slightly off as he feels his orgasm rear its head until he explodes, his vision blurring and his body twitching as he unloads himself within you. He savors your moans as you quiver around him, his orgasm setting yours off.

You whine at the loss of his cock, shivering as you feel his cum leak out of your pussy and onto the towel below. Hyunjin helps you get dressed and then helps you up. As you both walk back to the house, Hyunjin grabs your hand and laces his fingers with yours.

“So the festival is coming up…in town. I was wondering if you’d like to go?” He glances at you nervously, scared that you would decline his offer.

However, you think it a great idea and accept, smiling as he lets out a breath that he was holding. You were eager to see the town and attend the festival as Hyunjin mentions it multiple times a day. Being a local himself, he’s attended every year since he was child and he is over the moon you’d get to attend with him this year.

Maybe the festival was just what you two needed to become ever closer together.

You eye yourself in the mirror, fixing the strays hairs and dabbing at your lipstick that you had just put on. Tonight was the festival and Hyunjin was waiting for you, ready to enjoy a night on the town. You stepped back and eyed your dress one last time before grabbing your bag and turning out the bathroom light.

You walked into the living room to see Hyunjin jump up quickly from the couch, his face in awe at your appearance.

“You look beautiful,” he said, walking closer to you with his hand outstretched.

“Thank you,” you replied, your face heating up as you took his hand.

He led you to his car and helped you in, softly shutting the door. You watched as he slid in and started the car and backed out of the driveway. It was weird to see the house fade away and you as a passenger as the last time you went down this road was at your arrival in your own car.

You couldn’t believe that was almost two months ago, the time passing quickly. You felt lighter than when you came and you had the man sitting next to you to thank for that. You looked out the window as Hyunjin drove towards town, taking the many twists and turns in the road with stride. You wondered what the town would look like, whether it appeared like those that you would see on old movies, small and quaint and filled with joy.

You didn’t have to wait for long as Hyunjin pulled up to a parking lot and pulled into a space. As you both walked toward the center of town, you were taken aback by your surroundings. The square was lit with fairy lights and the fountain aglow with strings of lights, delicately wrapped around the base. Families and couples walked around, chattering away or hands filled with food. Children’s laughter rang out in the night air, the atmosphere as a whole light and filled with fun.

Hyunjin led you to a restaurant, with many tables outside filled with patrons. He walked up to the hostess who greeted you both cheerfully and led you to a table, in view of the beautiful square. You accepted the menu with a thanks and smiled as she handed Hyunjin his.

You looked down in silence, eyeing the many options in interest, your mouth starting to salivate at the delicious entrees. Finally you decided on one at the same time Hyunjin decided on his. You both placed your orders and began to chat, reminiscing on your summer together.

Conversation came easy as it always did with Hyunjin and the atmosphere made it even easier and lighter. Before you knew it, your food was placed in front of you and you immediately dug in, not realizing how hungry you were.

The meal ended without a hitch and Hyunjin paid the tab, leaving a hefty tip for the waitress. He patted his belly and sighed and then looked up at you.

“Ready?” He inquired and you nodded, ready to walk around and see what else the festival had in store.

Stalls lined the street on each side of the walkway, filled with wares and different treats. Hyunjin bought you an ice cream which you quickly ate, the cream and vanilla satisfying your sweet tooth. You played a few games, both of you loosing spectacularly but still having fun.

As you made it to the end of the stalls, Hyunjin grabbed your hand and held it tight, steering you back to the center of town. You took a deep breath, filling your lungs with the crisp, night air, feeling happier than you have been in a long time.

As you got closer to the center of town, the music became louder and you could hear people cheering and clapping along with the beat. Once you both arrived, you immediately saw the source of the commotion, as a mini dance floor had opened up and couples were dancing to the lively music.

It seemed fun and you wanted to join so you looked up at Hyunjin, hoping he’d catch your drift. He took one look at your face and understood immediately and pulled you along into the throng of dancing people.

He grasped both of your hands and you both began to dance, exaggerating your movements to the beat. The air was filled with laughter and cheers and your face was stuck with a smile as you danced away with Hyunjin. He had a plethora of moves and showed them off one by one, a small crowd beginning to form around the two of you.

Somehow, you knew how to match him, moving your body along to the beat and focusing on your partner. The cheers and hollers fueled your passion and you increased your energy, moving along flawlessly. The band took notice and played song after song, watching you and Hyunjin steal the show.

You’re not sure how much time passed but finally the band ended the last song and you both stopped, gasping for breath after such exertion. The crowd clapped and cheered before slowly dispersing, leaving the two of you standing close to each other with sweat dripping down your faces.

“Well that was fun,” Hyunjin said as he burst into a smile, his dimples that you loved popping up.

“It was,” you giggled and followed him off of the makeshift dance floor.

He grabbed you both waters and you decided to walk back to the car, chatting about how well the night went. The ride back to the house was a quiet affair, your ears still buzzing from the band. You replayed the night in your head, smiling to yourself as you remembered how you moved seamlessly with Hyunjin, like you both were able to speak to each other telepathically.

This summer truly has been fun and much needed and you were happy you chose to stay at Hyunjin’s house.

All too soon, his car pulled up the driveway to the house and he killed the engine. Hyunjin helped you out of the car and walked next to you up the stairs of the porch. You stood back as he unlocked the door and you walked into the hall, greeted by the fresh blast of cool air which you gratefully accepted.

Kicking your shoes off, you made your way to the bedroom, Hyunjin hot on your heels. As soon as you crossed the threshold, he grabbed your hand and spun you around until you were flush against his body. He pressed his lips to yours in a heated kiss, covering the gasp you let out in surprise.

Slowly, he walked you to the bed and pushed you down, smirking as you sighed and smiled up at him. He quickly undressed and you watched eagerly, your eyes focused on his hands as he stepped out of his pants, his cock that you have grown to love springing free from its confines.

Hyunjin reached for the straps of your dress and slid them down your arms before ridding you of the garment, his eyes glued to your body that laid bare in front of him. He wasted no time in spreading your legs and lowering his face to your pussy and licking a stripe through your folds before latching onto your clit.

You grasped his hair and guided his head, waves of pleasure traveling through you as he devoured you like you were his last meal. He knew the spots that would make your toes curl and you whimpered as he reached each one, you back arching off the bed. You were close, your orgasm threatening to spill any moment, but were disappointed as Hyunjin scooted away, wiping his face of your fluids.

“Sh, sh love, I got you,” he cooed as he grasped his cock and brought it to your entrance.

He slowly pushed into you, your walls accepting him without issue until he was buried within you to the hilt. Hyunjin took a deep breath before rolling his hips into yours slowly, deeply, taking his time dragging his length in and out of you. You wiggled beneath him, thrusted your hips up trying to get him to speed up, but he just stopped his movements, causing you to whine.

“Let me worship you love.” He whispered as he rolled his hips once more, his eyes glued to yours.

“You’re so beautiful. You’re pussy sucking me in, taking me like it was made for me. And it was hm,” he moans, still keeping the slow pace.

You watched as he grasped your hands and laced his fingers with yours and your eyes locked onto his. Hyunjin stared into your eyes, peering beyond the cornea, beyond the iris and deep into your soul. He read every movement, heard every sound, and felt every huff, pant, and breath you let out. His movements were precise, slow, practiced, so perfect that every drag felt overwhelming, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your core.

You felt sensitive, emotions rising up that you haven’t faced in years. You breath became shallow and you gasped for air, squeezing Hyunjin’s hand to try and ground yourself.

“Breathe, love, breathe…that’s it,” Hyunjin whispered as he eyed you, watching as you fell apart beneath him.

You took a deep breath, allowing the air to completely fill your lungs before letting it out, repeating the motion again and again as tears began to fall down your face. Hyunjin leaned forward into you, adjusting himself and buried his face into your neck.

As he whispered sweet nothings in your ear and dragged his length within you, you felt the coil build, slowly, tightly like never before. You felt your toes tingle and the heat spread to every corner of your body threatening to spill over. Hyunjin continued to make love to you as you weeped, your tears falling onto his shoulders as he gripped your hands tightly and pressed wet kisses against your neck.

“Come for me,” hyunjin moaned and you let out a shaky cry, squirting your release onto his cock and belly.

Hyunjin thrusted into you once more and stilled his hips, coming deep inside you, holding you flush against him. You both laid there in silence, coming down from your highs, relishing in the silence after your love making.

You buried your hands in his soft hair and held him close, your heart beating wildly. You felt love bubble up within, a feeling you haven’t experienced in a while and you let it take over until you were crying again, your sniffles making Hyunjin sit up in alarm.

“Are you okay?” He asked in a panic, worried that he had hurt you in some way.

You shook your head and smiled, feeling quite the opposite. Hyunjin sighed in relief and grinned before laying next to you and pulling you close.

As the night went on and hyunjin’s shallow breathing turned into deeper, drawn out breaths, your heart swelled with the love you had for this man. However, with every rainbow there is a storm and you realized that in a week you’d be leaving, never to see Hyunjin again. The thought made you sad and empty inside, and fresh tears began falling from your face. Maybe you shouldn’t have let yourself fall for him, but instead should have kept your distance.

Your last week went by quickly and you began to pack, making sure you gathered all of your belongings that had been scattered throughout the place over the last few months. Hyunjin watched solemnly as you scampered around the house, a sense of dread filling him within.

You both had not discussed what had happened just last week, as he made love to you, worshipped you. He’s been scared as to what you would say, worried that you would turn him down. But as he watches you pack some shirts, he wishes he would have taken the chance, confessed to you, and try to make this work.

He reminisces on how closed off you were when you arrived and how slowly but surely you blossomed like a flower, showing off your beauty once you felt safe and secure. He’d love to be that security for you, take care of you, love you, and cherish you, but it may be too late to voice so.

He bites his lips, his head filled with conflict, unaware that you were stealing glances at him every now and then.

You place your makeup bag in your suitcase and sigh. Hyunjin seems preoccupied, his mind elsewhere and you wonder what he is thinking about. He is thinking of you? The summer you two spent together, learning how to open up and care for each other, like a baby learning to take their first steps.

You’re silent, too nervous to question him and see what’s on his mind. Instead you finish up packing as you want to get on the road before dark. An hour later you are ready, your bags all packed and waiting by the door. Hyunjin stands in the middle of the floor, his hands in his pockets and his gaze on the ground.

You’re both silent, neither one of you wanting to say the dreaded words. But, the sun is steadily moving across the sky and darkness is threatening to take over. It’s now or never.

“Well thanks for everything,” you say, swindling your hands behind your back.

Hyunjin merely grunts and looks up into your eyes. It’s silent a moment more before you nod and grab your suitcase and walk to your car. Hyunjin follows you and watches as you load your bag and shut the trunk and round the side to the drivers seat.

“I hope you had a pleasant stay,” Hyunjin says, a professional smile plastered on his face, after all he’s only a host.

“I did. I really did,” you reply, your voice barely reaching his ears.

You make to get into the car when Hyunjin shouts your name and rushes toward you to take you in his arms. He presses his lips to yours for a kiss, one that conveys how much he loves you, how much he wishes you could be his. You return the kiss, allowing your hands to drift into his hair and touch the strands like you would do as you cuddled in bed, forgetting the world outside.

As Hyunjin steps back, he gives you a sad smile and watches you get into the car, carefully shutting the door behind you. He watches as you start the ignition and pull away, your car getting smaller in the distance. He sends his heart with you, hoping you’ll keep it safe; hoping that you realize it will always be yours.

You look back through your rear view mirror and see Hyunjin standing there, watching as you drive away. Your heart pangs and you take a deep breath and let it out, gripping the steering wheel even tighter.

You remember how you started this retreat, broken, lost, and alone. Your heart was closed off, a wall built around it, protecting it from anyone who was seeking it out. You reflect on how you feel lighter and can move on, leaving all of the pain in the past. You smile as you realize Hyunjin is to thank for that and hope that you two will meet again.

You send out your love to him, wish it to lodge deep in his heart so he can find his way back to you. While you manifest this thought, you feel a warmth take over and land in your chest, leaving you feeling at peace. You know it is Hyunjin, joining you for the journey and promising to love you for all eternity.

And with that, you’re okay. You promise to keep his love safe and protected until you’re able to see each other again.

divider by @cafekitsune

taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @armystay89 @palindrome969 @ivydoesit23 @slut4hee @amarecerasus @baby-stay92 @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground @katsukis1wife @my-neurodivergent-world @hanniebaeee @hwanghyunjinismybae @channiesrightasscheek @skzdreamer13 @lezleeferguson-120

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scarletwinterxx · 4 months ago

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Every second from now I'm gonna love you completely - dad jaehyun scenario

helloooo ~ maybe i've been missing jaehyun a bit more these past few days so i wrote this. if you're new here or been here for a while🤣 my first ever series i wrote was a dad jaehyun au, it's like my first born. when i wrote that i was still trying to find my writing style, all i know was i wanted to write it. so excuse my mistakes there haha but in case you haven't read it or want to re-read it, click here !!

sooo yea, i have a few more stories lined up. thank you all sooooo much for the love🤍

my x acc - niniramyeonie 😊💛

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025. Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pic not mine, credits to rightful owner)

It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon, and you’re sitting on the couch, flipping through a book, when Jaeyoon, your husband’s carbon copy, plops down beside you with a loud sigh.

You glance at him. “What’s up, baby?”

Jaeyoon props his chin on his hands. “Mom, can I ask you something?”

You smile knowingly. “You’re always asking me something, Jaeyoon.”

He grins, then immediately launches into his first question. “If a fish gets thirsty, does it drink water?”

You blink. “Uh… technically, yes. But freshwater fish absorb water through their skin, and saltwater fish drink water through their mouths.”

Jaeyoon’s eyes widen. “Woah. So fishes are just drinking and absorbing all the time?”

You chuckle. “Pretty much.”

He nods like he’s processing something groundbreaking. Then—“Okay, next question.”

You raise an eyebrow. “There’s more?”

“Do clouds get tired from floating all day?”

You stare at him for a second before bursting into laughter. “Jaeyoon, where do you come up with these?”

Jaeyoon shrugs, completely serious. “I just think about them.”

You shake your head, pulling him into your arms. Your once little newborn now here having the most random conversions with but you won’t have it any other way.

“You have the biggest brain.” you mumble against his hair

Jaeyoon grins, cuddling into your side. “And I have one more question.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Last one?”

“Last one,” he promises. Then, looking up at you with those big, curious eyes, he asks

“Why do you love me so much?”

Your heart melts on the spot. You hug him even tighter, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Because you’re you, Jaeyoon. You and your sister is my heart beating outside my chest, you’re the best parts of mom and dad”

Jaeyoon sighs happily, snuggling closer. “That’s a good answer, Mom”

You smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He yawns. “Okay, I’m done asking for now.”

You smirk, stroking his hair. “For now?”

But Jaeyoon doesn’t answer—he’s already drifting off, safe and warm in your arms. And you know that tomorrow, and every day after that, there will be a million more questions.

A few hours later, the sky is darker outside. Jaehyun is sitting in his home office, fingers gliding over his laptop keyboard as he reviews a contract. It’s the weekend but he’s trying to catch up on some work after taking a family vacation. The room is quiet except for the occasional clicking of his mouse—until the door swings open without a knock.

Jaeyoon, his youngest who is now 5, marches in “Appa, what are you doing?”

Jaehyun doesn’t even look up. “Working.”

The little man who looks just like him pads closer, tilting his head. “What kind of working?”

Jaehyun sighs, glancing at his mini me. It’s like whenever he looks at his son he sees himself, something you always say is unfair but still love completely

“CEO work.”

Jaeyoon gasps dramatically. “Woah. That sounds so important.”

“It is.” he chuckles at his son’s amusement at such a mundane adult thing.

Instead of leaving, Jaeyoon clambers onto Jaehyun’s lap, making himself very comfortable. Jaehyun automatically moves his arm to keep the documents from getting messed up, but he doesn’t protest.

Jaeyoon peers at the screen. “What’s that?”

“A contract.”

“What’s a contract?”

“A business agreement.”

“What’s an agreement?”

Jaehyun sighs through a chuckle. “When two people decide on something together.”

Jaeyoon nods like that makes total sense. Then, after a beat he speaks again “Can I type?”

Jaehyun lifts an eyebrow. “Depends. Are you going to send my company into chaos?”

Jaeyoon beams. “Maybe!”

Jaehyun shakes his head but moves his laptop slightly so Jaeyoon can reach the keyboard. “Okay, go ahead.”

Jaeyoon excitedly taps a few random letters: hgfldj.

“Wow,” Jaehyun says, nodding seriously. “That’s some next-level business strategy.”

Jaeyoon grins. “I’m a CEO too now.”

“Yeah?” Jaehyun leans back. “What’s your company called?”

Jaeyoon thinks for a moment, then dramatically announces, “Jaeyoon’s Snack Empire!”

Jaehyun laughs. “Sounds like a profitable business.”

“Yep. We sell ice cream, barbecue and cookies.”

“Smart.” Jaehyun grins. “I’d invest.”

Jaeyoon gasps. “Really?”

“But I want 50% of the company.”

Jaeyoon narrows his eyes. “Appa, that’s too much!”

Jaehyun smirks “Negotiation. That’s part of being a CEO too.”

Jaeyoon groans dramatically, sliding off Jaehyun’s lap and climbing onto his desk instead. “This is so hard.”

Jaehyun just chuckles, adjusting his laptop. “Welcome to my world, buddy.”

Jaeyoon sighs but doesn’t leave, now playing with a paperweight on the desk. Jaehyun lets him, continuing to work as his little boy fidgets and chats about everything. And even though Jaehyun is busy, he doesn’t mind at all because no matter how important his work is—his little CEO-in-training will always be more important.

Chaeyoon bursts through the front door, kicking off her sneakers without much care. Her backpack slides off her shoulder as she yells, “Mom! You won’t believe what happened today!”

You glance up from the kitchen counter, where you’re slicing fruit for Jaeyoon’s afternoon snack. Your five-year-old son is sitting on a stool, swinging his legs while munching on a cookie.

“What happened, sweetheart?” you ask, wiping your hands on a towel.

Chaeyoon drops her backpack with a thud, walking over with wide eyes, as if she’s about to share the most shocking news of the year. “A boy—Mom, a boy—asked me to get ice cream with him after school.”

You blink, taking a second to process. “Oh?”

Jaeyoon gasps dramatically beside you. “Noona, are you getting married?!”

Chaeyoon groans. “Jaeyoon, no! It’s just ice cream!”

You bite back a smile, setting the knife down. “So, who is this boy?” you ask, keeping your tone light

Chaeyoon sighs, pushing her hair back. “His name is Minho. He’s in my class. We sit next to each other in science, and I guess we’re kinda friends?” She pauses, then adds, “But I didn’t say yes yet.”

“Why not?” you ask curiously.

She frowns. “I dunno. It felt... weird?”

Jaeyoon leans closer, eyes shining. “Did he say you’re pretty?”

Chaeyoon glares at him. “I’m not talking to you about this.”

You chuckle, running a hand through her hair despite her protests. “Well, I think it’s sweet that he asked. Do you want to go?”

She hesitates. “Maybe? But also... I don’t know what Dad would say.”

Ah. There it is.

Jaehyun, your loving but sometimes very overprotective husband, has always been a little sensitive when it comes to his little girl growing up.

And you can already imagine his reaction.

You smile, wiping your hands on a dish towel as you watch your daughter shift nervously. “Well,” you say casually, “if you want to go, then you can tell your dad. I’m sure he’ll say yes.”

Chaeyoon’s eyes widen in pure betrayal. “Mom!”

Jaeyoon giggles beside you. “Appa is gonna explode!”

You laugh, ruffling your son’s hair before turning back to Chaeyoon. “Sweetheart, your dad never says no to you. If you tell him, I bet he’ll—” you pause, thinking of Jaehyun’s usual soft spot for his kids, “—well, I’m pretty sure he’ll say yes.”

The truth is, even you aren’t entirely sure how Jaehyun will react to this one. He can’t say no when Chaeyoon asks for another bedtime story or when Jaeyoon wants to sleep in your bed after a nightmare. He folds instantly when they give him their puppy-dog eyes.

But this? His little girl being asked out for ice cream by a boy? This might be the one thing that actually shakes him.

Chaeyoon huffs, crossing her arms. “You just want to see what he says.”

You grin, leaning on the counter. “Maybe a little.”

Jaeyoon claps excitedly. “I wanna tell Appa! I wanna see his face!”

Chaeyoon groans, but she’s laughing, too. “I should just say no and avoid this whole thing.”

You tilt your head. “Is that what you want?”

She hesitates, then sighs. “No. I think I wanna go.”

“Then you should tell your dad,” you say simply, enjoying this way more than you should

Just as you say that, the front door opens, and Jaehyun walks in, loosening his tie with one hand. “I’m home,” he calls out, his voice warm but tired from the workday.

Jaeyoon immediately jumps down from his stool and runs to him. “Appa! Noona has big news!”

You bite your lip to keep from laughing as Chaeyoon groans again. “Jaeyoon!”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow, looking between the two of them before his eyes land on you. “Big news?” he repeats, stepping further inside.

You give Chaeyoon a small smile. “Go on, sweetheart. Tell him.”

And as she shifts nervously, you watch Jaehyun. He’s completely unaware that his world is about to be shaken.

Jaehyun’s brows furrow slightly as he looks at Chaeyoon. “What’s going on?”

Chaeyoon groans, shifting on her feet. “Ugh, this is so embarrassing…” She glances at you for help, but you simply smile and motion for her to go on.

Jaeyoon, impatient as ever, blurts out, “A boy asked Noona to eat ice cream with him!”

Silence.

Jaehyun blinks. Once. Twice.

Then, very slowly, he turns to Chaeyoon. “What?”

Chaeyoon groans again, covering her face. “Ugh, I knew this was going to be a thing.”

Jaehyun stays completely still, processing. You watch as his jaw tenses ever so slightly, and you swear you see his fingers twitch like he’s fighting the urge to tighten his tie again. You bite your lip, thoroughly enjoying this.

Jaehyun clears his throat. “So… a boy.”

Chaeyoon nods reluctantly.

Jaehyun continues, “And he asked you to get ice cream?”

Another slow nod. Jaehyun blinks again, still looking like his brain is buffering. Then, he shifts his gaze to you, as if asking for backup.

You shrug innocently. “I told her if she wants to go, she should ask you.”

His eyes narrow slightly. He knows exactly what you’re doing.

Jaeyoon tugs at Jaehyun’s sleeve. “Appa, are you okay? Your face looks weird.”

Jaehyun exhales slowly, rubbing a hand down his face. Then, after a long pause, he looks at Chaeyoon again. “Who is this boy?”

“Minho,” she mutters.

“Minho,” Jaehyun repeats, like he’s committing the name to memory for later investigation. “How old is he?”

“He’s in my class, Dad.”

Jaehyun nods, still processing. Then, in a very calm but very careful voice, he asks, “And why does he want to take you out for ice cream?”

Chaeyoon shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe because we’re friends? And he likes ice cream?”

Jaehyun exhales again, then finally looks at you. Help me, his eyes plead.

But you just smile sweetly. “So? Can she go?”

His lips part like he wants to say no. You know he wants to say no. But this is Chaeyoon, his baby girl. The same baby girl who used to sit on his lap and call him her prince. The same one who still kisses his cheek before bed. And as much as he wants to protest, Jaehyun has never been able to say no to her.

He sighs, finally dropping his shoulders. “Is he coming here?”

Chaeyoon shakes her head. “We were just gonna meet there after school.”

Jaehyun nods slowly. “Fine. But—” he raises a finger, his CEO voice slipping through, “—I want to meet him first.”

Chaeyoon groans but smiles. “I knew you were gonna say that.”

Jaeyoon pumps his fists. “Noona’s going on a date!”

“It’s not a date!”

Jaehyun mutters under his breath, “It better not be.”

And as you watch him struggle between being a protective dad and trying to respect Chaeyoon’s growing independence, you can’t help but laugh.

Jaehyun shoots you a look. “You set me up.”

You grin. “Maybe a little.”

Later that night, after the kids are asleep, you and Jaehyun finally crawl into bed. The room is dimly lit, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting warm shadows across the walls.

Jaehyun lets out a deep sigh as he sinks into the mattress, rubbing a hand down his face. “Today was… a lot.”

You chuckle, turning to your side to face him. “Oh, you mean finding out your baby girl is growing up and might actually hang out with a boy?”

Jaehyun groans dramatically, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Don’t remind me.”

You laugh, scooting closer and resting your head against his shoulder. “You survived.”

“Barely,” he mutters.

You trail a finger along his arm, feeling the tension still lingering in his muscles. “You know, you are going to have to deal with this eventually. She’s not always going to be your little girl.”

Jaehyun removes his arm from his face, turning his head to look at you. “She’ll always be my little girl.”

You smile softly. “I know, but she’s also getting older. And you can’t scare away every boy who looks at her.”

He smirks. “Wanna bet?”

You laugh, swatting at his arm. “Jae”

He sighs again, rolling onto his side so he’s facing you. “I just… I know she’s smart, and I trust her. But the thought of some boy liking her—of her liking him back—it makes me insane.”

You gently brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “Because you don’t want to let her go.”

Jaehyun exhales, his eyes softening. “Yeah.”

You press a kiss to his forehead. “You don’t have to. She’ll always need you, just in different ways.”

He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “You always know what to say.”

You grin. “That’s why you married me.”

Jaehyun chuckles, his grip tightening slightly. “One day, some boy is going to look at Chaeyoon the way I look at you.”

Your heart warms at his words, but you also see the slight panic in his eyes. You press your palm against his cheek, making him meet your gaze. “And when that day comes, you’ll be okay. Because you’ve shown her what real love looks like.”

He stares at you for a moment before exhaling and burying his face in your neck. “You’re too good at this.”

You laugh, running your fingers through his hair. “I just know my husband.”

Jaehyun hums against your skin. “Remind me to keep Jaeyoon small forever. I can’t handle two of them growing up.”

You smile, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Good luck with that.”

He tightens his hold around you, as if holding onto this moment—onto you, onto the family you’ve built together. And even though you know he’ll always be a little overprotective, a little reluctant to let go, you also know that no matter what, Jaehyun will always, always be the best dad to your kids.

You’re still wrapped up in Jaehyun’s arms, the warmth of his body keeping you perfectly comfortable, when you suddenly feel something or someone climbing onto the bed.

A small hand pats your cheek. “Mom.”

You groan softly, burying your face into Jaehyun’s chest. “Mm… too early, baby.”

Jaeyoon isn’t deterred. He pats your cheek again, more insistent this time. “Mom. Appa.”

Jaehyun grumbles lowly, his grip on you tightening as he tries to stay asleep. “Five more minutes, buddy.”

Jaeyoon ignores him completely. “Noona is going on a date today.”

Both you and Jaehyun immediately open your eyes.

Jaehyun sits up so fast that Jaeyoon nearly topples over. “It’s not a date!” he says, voice still groggy but fully alert now.

Jaeyoon giggles, climbing onto his lap. “But Appa, they’re getting ice cream.”

Jaehyun exhales, running a hand down his face. “Why does this feel worse when you say it like that?”

You stifle a laugh, sitting up as well. “Sweetheart, did you come in here just to remind us?”

Jaeyoon nods enthusiastically. “Uh-huh. And also because I’m hungry.”

Jaehyun groans, flopping back onto the bed. “This family is going to be the death of me.”

You laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek before turning to Jaeyoon. “Alright, let’s get you some breakfast.”

Jaeyoon claps happily and slides off the bed. But before he leaves, he turns to Jaehyun with a mischievous grin. “Appa, what if Noona kisses Minho?”

Jaehyun sits up again. “That’s not happening!”

Jaeyoon giggles and sprints out of the room before Jaehyun can say anything else.

You shake your head, laughing as you reach for Jaehyun’s hand. “You okay, babe?”

He groans, throwing himself back onto the pillows. “No. I need coffee. And maybe therapy.”

You chuckle, tugging him up. “Come on, big guy. Let’s get through today first.”

Jaehyun sighs dramatically, but when he looks at you, there’s warmth in his eyes. “Only because you’re here.”

You smile, squeezing his hand. “Always.”

Later after school, you’re in the living room with Jaeyoon who’s sprawled out on the floor, coloring in his favorite book. He hums a little tune as he draws, completely unbothered by the fact that his Noona isn’t home yet.

You, on the other hand, are very aware of the time. Not because you’re worried but because you know who will be. Right on cue, the front door opens. Jaehyun steps inside, immediately loosening his tie and checking his watch. Again.

You don’t even get the chance to greet him before he says, “What time did you say Chaeyoon was coming home?”

You smirk. “I didn’t say.”

Jaehyun lets out a long sigh, kicking off his shoes. “It’s already past five.”

Jaeyoon looks up from his coloring. “Appa, you checked your watch like a hundred times.”

Jaehyun ignores him, turning to you instead. “Have you heard from her?”

You shake your head, amused. “She texted when she left school. She’s probably still with Minho.”

Jaehyun visibly clenches his jaw. “Still?”

You chuckle, patting the couch beside you. “Babe, relax.”

Jaehyun does not relax. Instead, he pulls out his phone, scrolling as if that will somehow make Chaeyoon text faster. “I should’ve picked her up.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? And then what? Sat between them at the ice cream shop?”

Jaeyoon bursts into giggles. “Appa would’ve stared at Minho like this.” He scrunches up his face, narrowing his eyes into an intense glare.

You laugh. “That’s exactly how he’d look.”

Jaehyun groans, running a hand through his hair. “This isn’t funny.”

You reach over, tugging him down to sit beside you. “It’s a little funny.”

Jaehyun grumbles but lets you pull him close. He leans back against the couch, checking his watch again.

“She’ll be home soon,” you assure him. “And when she gets here, you can interrogate her all you want.”

Jaeyoon gasps dramatically. “Appa’s gonna use his CEO voice!”

Jaehyun huffs. “I am not.”

Jaeyoon grins. “Are too.”

Jaehyun doesn’t argue because maybe he is. Just a little. Just as Jaehyun is admiring Jaeyoon’s latest masterpiece, a crayon drawing of your family with an extra large version of himself. There’s the sound of the front door unlocking.

Jaehyun immediately checks his watch again.

You smirk. “See? She’s home at a perfectly reasonable time.” Jaehyun doesn’t respond. Instead, he stands up, crosses his arms, and waits.

Chaeyoon steps inside, setting her backpack down before kicking off her shoes. “I’m home!” she calls out casually.

Jaeyoon runs up to her, arms flailing. “Noona! Did you have your date?”

Chaeyoon groans. “It wasn’t a date, Jaeyoon.”

Jaehyun clears his throat. Loudly. Chaeyoon turns her head and there’s her dad. Standing in the middle of the living room, arms crossed, looking exactly how she expected him to.

She sighs, dragging her feet toward the couch. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. “Get what over with?”

“The interrogation.” She plops onto the couch, throwing her arms over the backrest. “Go ahead, Appa. Ask your many questions.”

Jaehyun doesn’t waste a second. “How long have you known him?”

“Like a year, we’re classmates”

“Why haven’t I heard about him before?”

She sighs. “Because you’re like this.”

Jaehyun ignores that. “Does he have good grades?”

Chaeyoon blinks. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I need to know if he’s responsible.”

Chaeyoon groans. “Yes, Appa, he has good grades.”

Jaehyun narrows his eyes. “What did you talk about?”

“Ice cream. School. Normal stuff.”

“Did he—” Jaehyun’s expression turns even more serious. “—hold the door for you?”

Chaeyoon stares. “…Yes?”

Jaehyun exhales, nodding slowly. “Okay. That’s a start.”

You shake your head, fully entertained by this. Jaeyoon climbs onto the couch beside Chaeyoon. “Did you hold hands?”

Jaehyun immediately looks at her.

Chaeyoon gags. “EW. No.”

Jaehyun nods approvingly. “Good.”

Chaeyoon groans again. “Ugh, Appa, you’re so dramatic. It was just ice cream.”

Jaehyun eyes her for a moment before finally sighing, sitting down beside her. His posture softens a little. “I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

Chaeyoon leans against him with a small smile. “I know. And I promise, Minho is just a friend.”

Jaehyun lets out another deep breath, wrapping an arm around her. “Okay. But next time, I want to meet him.”

Chaeyoon pulls away, eyes wide. “Appa. No.”

Jaehyun shrugs. “I need to make sure he understands that you have a very intimidating father.”

Chaeyoon groans dramatically, flopping onto the couch. “You’re impossible.”

Jaeyoon grins, climbing onto Jaehyun’s lap. “Appa, when I get a girlfriend, you can meet her, okay?”

Jaehyun blinks. “What?”

You burst out laughing as Jaehyun looks like he’s about to have an entire crisis.

Chaeyoon smirks. “Yeah, Appa. You have two kids to worry about.”

Jaehyun groans, rubbing his temples. “I need another coffee.”

And as the kids giggle, and you lean into him with an affectionate smile, you realize you wouldn’t trade this chaotic, loving family for anything.

The call from Jaeyoon’s school comes in the middle of the afternoon. You answer, and the moment you hear the words "Jaeyoon had a little accident during an activity," your heart skips a beat. The teacher quickly reassures you that he’s okay ust a scraped knee and a little bump but you’re already grabbing your bag.

Jaehyun, who had just gotten home early from a meeting, notices the shift in your expression. “What’s wrong?”

You exhale. “Jaeyoon tripped at school. He’s hurt, but they said it’s not too bad.”

Jaehyun’s face hardens. “Let’s go.”

Within minutes, the two of you are in the car, driving to the school. Jaehyun grips the steering wheel tightly, jaw clenched. He doesn’t say much, but you can tell his mind is racing.

When you arrive at the nurse’s office, Jaeyoon is sitting on the little cot, his legs swinging as he stares down at his bandaged knee. His face is scrunched up in frustration. The moment he sees the both of you, his lips press together in a thin line, and he immediately sits up straighter.

“Hey, buddy,” Jaehyun says softly, crouching down to his level. “What happened?”

Jaeyoon crosses his arms. “I tripped during the race.” His voice is a little wobbly, but he clears his throat, blinking rapidly. “But I’m okay. I didn’t cry.”

You exchange a glance with Jaehyun before sitting beside Jaeyoon. “It’s okay if you want to, sweetheart.”

Jaeyoon shakes his head stubbornly. “Big boys don’t cry.”

Jaehyun sighs, reaching out to pull Jaeyoon into his arms. And the moment he does, Jaeyoon completely melts He buries his face in Jaehyun’s chest, his small fingers gripping onto his father’s shirt. A choked little sob escapes him, and then, suddenly, he’s really crying.

Jaehyun just holds him tighter, one hand cradling the back of his head. “It’s okay, buddy. You can cry.”

Jaeyoon sniffles, his tiny shoulders trembling. “I tried so hard, Appa.”

“I know,” Jaehyun whispers, rubbing his back. “And you’re still the bravest boy I know.”

Jaeyoon clings to him, sobbing softly. Jaehyun doesn’t rush him, doesn’t tell him to stop he just lets him feel everything, lets him be small in this moment.

You stroke Jaeyoon’s hair gently. “You know… being strong doesn’t mean not crying. It means getting back up even when you’re hurt.”

Jaeyoon sniffles, pulling back slightly to look up at Jaehyun. “Really?”

Jaehyun nods, wiping a stray tear from his cheek. “Really. And you did get back up, didn’t you?”

Jaeyoon nods hesitantly. “Yeah…”

Jaehyun smiles, kissing the top of his head. “Then you’re the strongest boy I know.”

Jaeyoon lets out a little hiccup, then slowly finally smiles. “Okay.”

You and Jaehyun exchange a soft look, hearts swelling with love for your little boy.

And as Jaehyun lifts Jaeyoon into his arms, holding him close all the way to the car, you know no matter how big he gets, Jaeyoon will always have a place to feel safe.

The drive home is peaceful, the soft hum of the car engine filling the quiet night. Jaeyoon and Chaeyoon are completely knocked out in the backseat, their heads tilted at awkward angles, mouths slightly open.

Jaehyun glances at them through the rearview mirror and smirks. “Didn’t even last five minutes.”

You chuckle, watching Jaeyoon’s little chest rise and fall steadily. “I knew Jaeyoon would fall asleep fast, but Chaeyoon too? She must’ve been really full.”

Jaehyun shakes his head fondly. “She tried to act like she wasn’t, but I saw her struggling with that last piece of meat.”

You laugh softly, resting your head against the car window. The streetlights blur past, casting a warm glow over the quiet city. The moment feels so calm—just the two of you, with your babies fast asleep in the back.

Jaehyun exhales, one hand still on the wheel, the other casually resting on his lap. “Feels like just yesterday they were tiny.”

You smile, your heart swelling at the memories. “I know… Remember when Chaeyoon was born? We had no idea what we were doing.”

Jaehyun lets out a low chuckle. “You figured things out fast. I was freaking out every five seconds.”

“You were not.”

“I was.” He shakes his head, eyes still on the road. “I was scared to even hold her at first. She was so small.”

You glance back at your daughter, now twelve, long legs curled up on the seat. “She’s not so small anymore.”

Jaehyun sighs. “No, she’s not.”

There’s a beat of silence before he smiles softly. “Jaeyoon, though… That boy came into this world yelling.”

You laugh, covering your mouth to keep quiet. “Oh, God, he was so loud. The nurse literally said, ‘Wow, this one has a lot to say.’”

Jaehyun grins. “And she was right. He hasn’t stopped talking since.”

You sigh, glancing out the window. “Sometimes I wish we could go back. Just for a little while. Hold them when they were tiny again.”

Jaehyun reaches over, taking your hand in his and squeezing gently. “I know.” His voice is soft, full of understanding. “But we’re still here. Still watching them grow.”

You smile, lacing your fingers with his. “And freaking out over ice cream dates.”

Jaehyun groans, tilting his head back. “Don’t remind me.”

You laugh, squeezing his hand. “You’ll survive, babe.”

He glances at you with a smirk. “Will I?”

You grin, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Of course.”

Jaehyun chuckles, eyes crinkling as he pulls into your driveway. “As long as I have you.”

And as you sit there, watching your babies sleep peacefully in the backseat, you realize—these moments, the quiet ones, the ordinary ones—are the ones that make life so beautiful.

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n30n-l1ghts · 6 months ago

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Okay, I need to rant. Fuck AI. And I mean seriously. FUCK. A.I. I know I’m probably preaching to the choir here, but more people need to be talking about this, and there’s no point in me saying that if I’m not willing to talk about it too. AI has done nothing but ruin our communities and defile the art that millions of hands have spent millions of hours creating. Fanfiction is a work of passion. Drawing is a work of passion. Voice acting IS A WORK OF PASSION. AI has no passion. It takes the soul out of the things we love and cherish. It steals what we as a collective community have lovingly crafted, and it shatters it to a thousand pieces, spits on it, curses its family, and throws it in a flaming dumpster to be eaten by rats. It is despicable and disgusting.

I won't lie, or pretend I’m a perfect saint. I myself was a user of Character AI until somewhat recently. And as ashamed as I am to admit that, I feel it’s necessary to own up to my own faults. But after seeing the damage it causes, I can’t in good conscience even consider touching that site. Many of us write because it is our passion. Many of us because it is our job. And many of us because it is our *friend*. AI steals the writing of your favorite creators WITHOUT PERMISSION and mashes it together like Frankenstein’s fucked up monster to create storylines that aren’t even fucking coherent. Not only that, but Character AI uses whatever you respond to it with to teach itself as well, which means that the company has access to whatever you chat about, and free reign to do whatever they want with it. They also make absurd amounts of money from it, which in comparison, fanfiction writers, who spend countless hours writing stories for our favorite characters, more often than not charge nothing. And the ones who do charge, tend to have reasonable, if not highly lenient prices for their labor.

Which leads me into another side rant. SUPPORT WRITERS THAT YOU LIKE. It’s really not that hard, it takes two fucking seconds of your time and it makes someone's day. Reblog. Share with your friends. Like. Comment. Just let the writer know that you saw it, and that you liked it. The amount of fanfic writers I have seen get completely discouraged from writing because of lack of engagement is astounding. I’ve seen several posts on Tumblr or Twitter or Bluesky talking about creators that were incredibly popular but never knew it due to lack of engagement is appalling. If you can rant about your love for their work on Discord, you can rant about your love for their work in the comments. Just fucking copy paste it. Tell them how much you love it. Show them support. Especially the ones that don’t charge. Because for those of us that don’t, our only payment, is your feedback. Even constructive criticism is greatly appreciated by damn near every writer I can think of. Because even that shows that you read it, absorbed it, and thought about it enough to have something to actually say about it.

The same thing goes for artists and voice actors. You see a drawing or animation you enjoy? Comment. Like. Share. You see a character in an anime or a game and you love their voice? Go check out their voice actor, maybe they do some other cool stuff, and you might just discover your new favorite series or streamer. A perfect example is Alejandro Saab. I became a fan of his through his astounding performance in several series dear to me, and lo and behold, he’s also a streamer I enjoy. Same story with Aleks Le, or Ray Chase. Yuri Lowenthal, Lizzie Freeman, Landon Mcdonald, Zeno Robinson, the list goes on. But seriously, it’s not that much effort to just show a little love to the creators you enjoy. The people who breathe life into the series’ that we all hold dear. AI does not breathe that life. Using AI, and supporting those companies, will destroy those pillars of our community. And if that happens, the AI would crumble too, it would have no new information to use. SO really, what’s the benefit? I’ll tell you. There is none.

Stop using AI. All it does is bring harm and slowly kill our community. It’s disgusting, appalling, and downright fucking egregious.

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

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phoenixyfriend · 5 months ago

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The ColourPop Twilight: New Moon collection is very pretty. There are four different items I'm drawn to.

However. It is Twilight merch, and specifically New Moon merch, and I doubt there are any plans from Colourpop to donate any of the proceeds to the Quileute people, who have never seen a red cent of SMeyer's profits from her appropriation of their culture.

So. If you feel similarly, maybe pop over to this page and politely tell them about your concerns, and suggest that some profits go to the Quileute Higher Ground project.

Please share, maybe see if you can get people on other platforms talking about it.

Don't copy this directly, write your own, but here is what I wrote.

----------------------

Hello,

I have purchased many of your products over the last few years, sometimes through the site and sometimes not. I find the New Moon collection beautiful, but I feel some trepidation over it. Given your dedication to other moral issues, such as staying cruelty free, I hope that you are open to hearing me out.

Over the past two decades, Stephanie Meyer has made hundreds of millions of dollars from the Twilight series, and much of the draw of the three later books came from her use and misuse of the traditional stories of the Quileute peoples. None of the copious amounts of money that she made from her appropriation of their culture has ever gone to them.

At this time, the Quileute people are experiencing great risk due to rising sea levels, something they likely could have worked around easily had they any of the funds that the Twilight series should have led to for them. The current standard among Twilight fans is that, should any money come from a Twilight fan product (e.g. pins), then a portion of that money should go to "Quileute Move to Higher Ground," as a way of honoring the way their people's traditions led to a series we enjoy, and their lack of any true gain from that situation.

The collaboration you are doing will lead to yet more money going to Mrs. Meyer, and there is little doubt that she will continue to ignore the Quileute people's situation. I would like to suggest that your company donate a portion of the profits from this collaboration to the Higher Ground project, maybe even talking about it on social media if possible.

As it stands, this collaboration appears to continue the tradition of basing products on the Quileute people and their traditions, without compensating them in any way for it.

The donations can be found here: https://mthg.org/

I am not affiliated with the Quileute Move to Higher Ground in any way, but I am a consumer who is interested in your products, and would love to buy these specific products. Many who express concern regarding the Twilight franchise and its impact on the Quileute people may be driven to actually buy this collection if told that this particular set, which draws from the book most heavily based on them, will benefit them.

Thank you for your time.

#twilight #new moon #move to higher ground #quileute move to higher ground #twilight new moon #colour pop #colourpop #phoenix talks

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vanteguccir · 1 year ago

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤATELOPHOBIA * MATT STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　where Y/N has suffered with an eating disorder for years, but lately, - because of some "fans" and social media - her insecurities have been taking her to a more than dangerous path, which she couldn't get out without help.

FEATURING　Matt Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　no.

WARNINGS　::　anorex!a, eating disorder, comparison, self sabotage, self hatred, panic attack, pure angst... PLEASE read with caution!

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Atelophobia; the fear of not being good enough.

This was one of the millions of fears and problems that haunted Y/N's mind. Her head convinced her a long time ago that she simply wasn't enough; for her school teachers, for her classmates, for her friends, for her parents, past boyfriends... not even for herself.

This led her to listen to what others said and thought about herself since she was very young, the desire to be perfect and within society's standards in all aspects of a human being consumed her; personality, thoughts, knowledge... body.

She was told all the time how she should behave, act, and be. She was just a child, but that didn't seem to matter to those who did it, clogging her up with responsibilities and comparisons.

One thing led to another. Her desperation to be the best at everything started to include her own body. "Fat" was the first word people used to describe her. She had no control over the situations around her, but she had control over her weight.

Y/N was always the biggest girl in her class, and her classmates seemed to love reminding her of that; often being excluded from work groups, forgotten in groups of friends, or not chosen in any team during Physical Education classes.

Until the year when everything changed. During the school vacation, she decided to change, intending to return to school as a new girl. The new cycle started well, Y/N saw a nutritionist, cutting out all fatty foods from her routine and consuming only healthy ones. She started going to the gym daily, doing the recommended training time. All of this led her to lose a significant amount of weight.

Soon, the vacation was over, and with that, the negative comments from her classmates were replaced by positive comments. Girls asking what she had done to lose weight like that, searching for advice and seeing her as a miracle. Boys saying how changed and prettier she looked.

How could she not fall in love with her own illness?

So, that made her feel good. Too good... her mind began to yearn to become thinner, more beautiful, just to hear more from others. And then the healthy diet and the one hour training at the gym were no longer enough for her. She needed more if she wanted to be better.

Y/N then intensified her training, staying at the gym for 2 hours per day, doing more reps with more weight. She crossed out several foods from the list of permitted that her nutritionist had made, choosing for herself the ones she thought were ideal, until it had almost nothing left.

Her brain self-sabotaged so that she wouldn't go out with her friends, because they would definitely want to eat somewhere and she wouldn't be able to.

She no longer participated in family dinners, creating excuses so as not to be forced to sit at the table and eat.

Her mind convinced her that she wasn't thin enough to satisfy her boyfriends' sexual and non-sexual desires, which made her pull away during or at the beginning of any relationship she had until the guy got tired, or she simply ended it.

She spent hours on the internet, searching for sensational diets that reduced daily calories to 500 or less, promising extraordinary weight loss. In addition to getting on the scale at least 4 times a day, hoping for a miracle every time she looked at the numbers.

Y/N replaced her eating schedules with random hobbies like drawing, learning a new instrument, or picking flowers from her garden to make flower crowns, occupying her time and mind.

Some things scared her, her period hadn't come in months, clumps of hair fell out every time she ran her hands through it. Her vision went dark at least 3 times a day. Her body shivered from the complete cold of her insides, and her stomach hurt more than usual.

But she had to suffer them alone since she had no one to talk to about, always alone.

Until Y/N met Matt.

Matt was the boy who made her want to get better. He encouraged her to look for a hospital that fit her preferences, where Y/N finally began to receive psychiatric and psychological care.

Her diet changed for the better, into foods that Y/N saw as safe. She did not abandon the gym but reduced the weight and time, maintaining her training just for the health of her muscles, as she had lost a lot of lean mass during her worst moment.

The calculator in her head finally stopped. Her eyes started seeing food as just food and not as the enemy. Her stomach craved for all the snacks she loved, and she finally ate them, without feeling guilty.

Matt was so thoughtful about her entire situation, having suffered himself with extreme anxiety from a young age. He could tell he understood in parts what it was like to live with a mental illness.

So he helped her maintain her healthy diet and eat all her daily meals within her limit - often opting to eat together in their room, since he knew the trepidation Y/N still felt about doing it in front of other people.

Matt praised her in every possible situation, trying not to be extreme but to show his intense love and support for the girl. All of that was helping her a lot.

Until it wasn't.

Y/N and Matt never hid their relationship from the public, the girl knew how famous her boyfriend was and how difficult it could be to keep their relationship hidden, they would be seen together at one time or another.

So it wasn't surprising that the girl appeared in some of the triplets' pictures sometimes, and that's what happened that Friday.

As usual, Nick posted a photo dump on the triplets Instagram to promote the publication of their new car video, and one of the photos was of Matt and Y/N, specifically one in which the two were sitting on the couch in their living room, the girl had her legs draped over Matt's thighs, while his tattooed arm wrapped tightly around her waist, huge smiles decorating their faces.

It was a cute photo, but apparently, that wasn't what fans thought.

While Matt and his brothers were in the kitchen, preparing healthy snacks - a habit they built through the girl, but which in the end helped everyone -, Y/N was lying on her bed in the room she shared with Matt, wrapped in too-warm covers, holding her phone with her right hand while her left hand wrapped around her stomach in an almost painful grip.

Her thumb scrolled through the comments screen beneath the post. Almost everyone there talking about her picture with Matt.

"Matt can do so much better than her"

"I really don't know what he saw in her"

"She's going to end up crushing him like that"

"I'll pay for the gym for her if that's the price for Matt to have a worthy girlfriend"

And so on, it was as if they knew all of Y/N's weaknesses.

Some fans of them could be cruel when they wanted to, and Y/N knew this by heart since seeing Nick crying several times because he was body shamed, or when she noticed Chris being quieter than usual after reading comments saying how loud he was and how that was unbearable.

Her heart was crushed every time she saw Matt suffer in silence until he couldn't hold it in any longer and finally cried in her lap for hours after reading people saying how insignificant and quiet he was in the videos.

Even though a huge mass of the fandom loved them with all their hearts and took care of them as much as the distance of a phone screen allowed, it still wasn't enough to swallow the hate comments.

But when it came to Y/N, more than half of the fandom turned against her. Maybe out of envy, but it was obvious that the girl didn't see it that way. She was convinced that they were right.

Her heart tightened as if someone was crushing it with their bare hands. The air seemed to escape her lungs, and the lunch she ate hours before seemed to want to go up her throat. Her fingers trembled as she held her stomach, feeling everything she had and didn't have there. Her eyes began to water, her lips quivering from the tears that wanted to escape.

Y/N quickly moved her finger to the back button, hoping to break out of the horrible cycle she was about to enter. A loud sob escaped her lips when, upon finally leaving the post, her feed reloaded, and a picture of a model that Y/N followed and admired appeared.

Comparison was her biggest enemy.

Negative thoughts about herself began to pollute her mind, everything around her becoming a fog. The sounds coming from the kitchen became muffled to her ears. Y/N's right hand - which was holding her phone - was gripping the device in such a way that her fingers turned white. Painful sobs escaped her mouth as her eyes remained fixed on the woman's perfect figure.

Why can't I be like her?

The longing for the sensations she felt when she starved hit her chest hard. The desire to want to be as thin as before - or more - filled her.

It didn't take long, and soon, the bedroom door was slowly opened, Matt's silhouette appearing behind it. His face was lit up with a smile - probably because of some joke his brothers made - while his right hand held a plate with two sandwiches.

His cheerful expression was replaced by a frown of concern. Matt quickly closed the door with his feet, walking towards the bed, haphazardly placing the plate on the nearest bedside table before sitting down on the mattress.

His hands flew to Y/N's waist, stopping over her own hand that was squeezing her skin with a force that was sure to leave it bruised.

The girl seemed to wake up from her trance, lifting her head and meeting Matt's calming - but worried - gaze. She cried harder as she imagined what her boyfriend would be thinking of her now.

Automatically, her mind started to play her current state, messy hair, swollen and red face, skin wet with tears, eyes half closed and mouth open, allowing sobs to escape from there.

"M-Matt-" Her sentence was cut off by a sob, her eyes closing tightly.

Matt took a deep breath, trying to process what to do next. His left hand - the one that didn't cover hers - slowly took the phone, taking it out of his girl's death grip. He glanced briefly at the screen, automatically understanding what was happening before locking it and putting the device aside.

He moved his body so that it was closer to hers, resting his hand on her spine and guiding her until she laid her head on his chest, caressing the area below his fingers.

Matt felt his heart break with every tremble that rocked the body beneath his caused by the sobs. If he could take that pain away from his girlfriend, he would.

"It's okay, baby, let it out. I'm right here." He cooed, his fingers caressed the tangled strands of her hair lightly, stroking the area while moving his upper body back and forth, slowly calming his girlfriend.

"Ma-Matty-" Y/N's voice was weak, wobbly from the pain in her heart.

Matt removed his hand from hers for a few seconds, stretching it to the bedside table - where the plate was -, taking the bottle of water that Y/N always filled before going to sleep. He opened the lid in one quick movement, bringing it close to his girl's face.

"Come on, my love. Sit down for a moment and take a sip of water. Please." The boy asked in a soft voice, helping Y/N straighten her posture before bringing the bottle closer to her lips, helping her take a few small sips of the contents.

He closed the bottle after making sure she was satisfied, placing it on the mattress before turning his attention to Y/N again. He brushed away the strands of hair from her face, tucking them behind her ear.

"What if they're right?" She asked in a whisper, catching her bottom lip between her teeth in an attempt to keep from crying.

"No, they aren't." Matt's tone was convincing, as if he was absolutely sure of what he was saying. "You are not worse than others because of your weight. You look great as you are. Your body is perfect, do you know why? Because he's healthy enough to carry you around and take care of you." The boy held her hands lightly, stroking the back of her fingers gently as he looked into her eyes. "The recovery journey is not easy, I remember the words your psychologist said to me when we had that session together. I imagine your head when you see clothes getting tighter, and these comments certainly make you want to give up, I know you, baby."

He paused momentarily, watching her reactions carefully.

Y/N knew that, recovery was hard work. Not wanting to die was hard work.

"Recovery is not a race. You don't have to feel guilty about taking less or more time than you originally thought or having relapses from time to time. This is part of the process, and I want you to understand this. You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my entire life. When I look at the most beautiful things, I remember you. In the pink tulips of the flower shop across the street, in the Cassiopeia constellation, in the bees that fly in our garden and in the greenest tree I have ever seen." Y/N let out a tearful laugh when she heard him mention the tree, knowing his immense love for nature. "Because you're pretty like them."

"I-I'm sorry." The girl whispered, sniffling then lowering her gaze in shame. "I... I saw the photos that Nick posted, and there were comments..." She shook her head, closing her eyes tightly.

"Oh baby." He leaned slightly over Y/N, sealing his lips over her warm forehead. "If you want to apologize, let me do it. If you went through this now, it was because of me."

"No, Matt. It was never and will never be your fault." Y/N shook her head, wiping her eyes momentarily with the sleeve of her - his - hoodie, sniffling slightly before taking one of Matt's hands, intertwining their fingers. "You don't control people, much less through the internet. They will always talk a lot because they are behind a screen that protects them, but that will never be your fault. I would rather go through this a thousand times and have you with me than never have you again."

"I understand." He paused momentarily. "Please, don't let it get to that point again while you're alone. If you see something that upsets you or makes you feel bad, turn it off instantly and call me. I want to be there to help you. I want to be there for you." The brunette asked, staring at her eyes.

Y/N sighed, nodding her head and leaning slightly closer to him, resting her forehead on Matt's shoulder, exhaling the softening scent and perfume that exuded from the fabric of the hoddie on his body.

Her eyes burned from the tears she shed, closing them tightly to prevent more from falling, her heart still feeling sore from everything.

"If you want, we can contact that psychologist again, the one who helped you throughout the process at the hospital." Matt lowered his head, bringing his face closer to the back of Y/N's head, pressing his lips against his girl's hair, closing his eyes as he felt the warmth of her body close to his. "I want to attend some sessions just like we did last time, so I understand how I can help you this time."

Y/N felt her heart warm instantly, her free hand snaking to Matt's thigh closest to her, stroking the covered skin lightly.

"Okay."

Matt loved Y/N more than he loved himself, and he would make sure that she understood that she wasn't alone anymore.

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serensama · 1 month ago

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Thursday Bangers: Dr, Who?

My many thanks to the amazing @woundedsoul12 who runs this fabulous game - it's too much fun to miss out on every week darling, thank you! Special shoutout to @davrinsleftpectoral who is just the cutest and @kabsey for being such a little cheerleader, much love lovelies <3

This one got super away from me and sits at around 3.6k so ... yeah. That's a thing now. My dumbass does not know what a blurb is TT__TT;

Rules for your Copy and Paste: Free form a blurb or drawing based on the weekly lyrics prompt. It doesn't have to include the prompt just whatever you're inspired to write, write it! Then tag some friends so they can play as well. It doesn't have to be finished on Thursday just post it whenever you can (you have a whole week between Thursdays).

This week's Banger just really jumped out and spoke to me so I hope it does the same for you. I am getting suggestions for weekly bangers and I love that and am adding them to the request line.

No matter what happens, he cannot come between us again I know we're better than friends- Million Dollar Baby by Tommy Richman

--- She had to ask herself again if she was heading down a self-sabotaging spiral. She had spent an embarrassing amount of time getting herself ready and choosing between which little black dress didn’t scream out ‘desperate’ but also didn’t say ‘prude’- and settled for the fitted mid-length, off the shoulder satin number, with a noticeable slit on the front of her thigh. Enough to tell people she was happy for them to look, but she wasn't going to provide the whole show without a little bit of effort from them.

Lilya almost changed her mind three times on her way there, but she knew if she didn’t actively do something about her needs, she’d be compelled to do something stupid. She was a proponent of the phrase ‘physician, heal thyself,' and she wanted to believe that by tackling the problem head-on, it would finally get her back on track and leave the past behind her. She could call this foray into questionable decisions a part of her self-care regime, that finding someone willing to indulge her in a night of frivolity and hedonism, with no questions asked and no strings attached, would be a cure-all to her unending fantasies about a certain Casanova.

The Diamond was infinitely busier than the last time she came with Teia. Bodies were pressed up against each other as the crowd tried to move to and from the dance floor and the bar; the bass of the song thumping so hard that she almost mistook it for her own heartbeat.

Lilya surveyed the club and managed to make out the familiar silhouette of her best friend at the corner of the bar, the bright lights that illuminated the benchtops, accentuating her sharp jaw and highlighting the white of her shirt. She giggled when she noticed she had also worn a fabulous (but ridiculous) fascinator to the club. Bless her. Neve, astute as always, turned just in time to see her across the room and raised her eyebrows in a subtle greeting. Lilya moved through the people and suddenly remembered why she had stopped going to places like this in her 30s. It was because she detested large groups of people. Add copious amounts of alcohol, lust and drugs, and they were a horde of mindless beasts looking for another creature to rut upon. She paused when she realised that was also precisely what she had intended to do that night. Minus the excessive drugs and alcohol. Was that any better? Is being a carnally charged animal better when one wasn’t wasted? In her professional opinion?... Oh screw her professional opinion. She wasn’t out as Dr de Riva. She was just Lilya there. After one more ‘excuse me!’, she was able to find herself next to Neve, who quickly passed a shot glass that she downed without hesitation, causing her friend’s mouth to quirk into a sly smirk. “I could have slipped something in that, you know.” “As if you’d need it to get me into bed.” “Touché.”

“So, who were you meant to be meeting?” “Already met him. He’s an informant of mine; he said he’d only meet here as he had some business to attend to, and I had to work around his schedule. Criminals these days, no bloody manners.” Lilya stole the bottle of liquor Neve held and poured herself another shot, nursing the liquid in small sips. “And you thought dragging your poor defenceless civilian friend along was a great idea?” Neve smirked, toying with her cigarette holder between her fingers, Lilya knowing her friend was probably itching for a smoke as she always did whenever she drank. “You? Defenceless? Miss ‘My brother is probably having me tailed’?” Lilya groaned. Her stepbrother was the paranoid type, and ever since he took over the family business, he had become even more wary of the people she associated with. Telling her at every chance to be more cautious, to stop being so trusting, and to make sure to take tester kits wherever she went, to ensure the water they served wasn't poisoned.

“He stopped doing that years ago.” “He did?” “Mhmm. I made one of his little spies cry and sent him back home with his tail between his legs. I told him I would do that to each and every person he sent.” “Fantastic. I’ll drink to that!” “You’d drink to me just blinking.” “And it wouldn’t even be the first time I did,” the detective smirked and raised her glass to her, rolling it along her cheek with the palm of her hand before deftly pouring the alcohol into her mouth. Neve tapped on the bar and pointed to both the ladies’ and smokers’ rooms, only waiting a moment for Lilya to shake her head before effortlessly disappearing into the crowd. She poured herself the last of the Gran Patròn and smiled to herself. Neve was not one to normally spend so frivolously; even on a detective’s salary, she fed most of her money back into her community. This bottle alone would have cost her at least $700, and she had known this woman since university; that $700 was better served in Dock Town, not in the bottom of a toilet bowl after a night of binge drinking. Whoever her informant was, they were generous with both their intel and their money.

Lilya turned around and leant against the bar, resorting to what she did whenever she was alone in public. She people-watched. She smiled at the group of young women out celebrating a bachelorette party. A lovely thing in the middle was dressed in white, wearing a plastic bejewelled tiara on her head and a satin sash across her body, with “bride to be” written in bright pink lettering. There was a large group of finance bros or lawyer types, all suited up and congratulating themselves on the deals they had closed, vying to be the most lavish amongst each other to prove something about the size of their bank accounts. Then she happened to look across to where some of the semi-private booths were, and there was a man watching her intently, his shot glass halfway to his mouth. He smirked at her and raised his arm in a toast, and she joined him, about to drink, when he motioned for her to stop abruptly. She laughed and waited as the mysterious man had asked, doing her best to look quizzically at him, silently asking for permission to drink. He shook his head and wiggled the index finger of his free hand to her, Lilya almost hearing him tut at her.

He stood up, to the disappointed cries of the party around him, and he waved them off, shouting back what she could only assume were obscenities for his friends to shut up. He made his way to her, with all the confidence and swagger of someone she knew she would be attracted to… then as he drew closer to her, his features became clearer under the brighter lights.

He could have passed as another bloody Dellamorte. Same high cheekbones, a strong nose, and thick, dark, lustrous hair. He was bloody gorgeous. The sharp ring of their glasses snapped her out of her daze, to find him thoroughly enjoying having her undivided attention.

“Sorry, it seemed a shame to miss an opportunity to share a toast with a beautiful woman,” he said, clinking his glass against hers once more. Lilya sat up straighter, trying to think if she should entertain the wicked idea forming in her head. If she could not be with Illario Dellamorte, perhaps she could scratch the itch with someone who kinda - kinda really - looked like him and simulate some sort of closure that way. Was it healthy? Was it something she would recommend to one of her patients? Of course bloody not. But she was not her patient, and she was still human and fallible. There was nothing unethical about her sleeping with someone who looked like her former-patient’s cousin… if there was, god damn it, the ethics committees these days needed to get laid too.

“Oh, you wanted a beautiful woman? You just missed her; she just went to the bathroom. But she’ll be back soon if you want to wait. Until then, you’re welcome to put up with the likes of me,” she smiled, gesturing to the empty seat next to her. The stranger chuckled and shook his head, pointing at her cheekily. “Ah, you caught onto my game, I am so ashamed. I guess I should do the honourable thing and talk to you and get to know you, maybe even buy you a drink or two to make up for my terrible behaviour… Miss-?” Lilya took a second to think about what she was about to do, weighing up the pros and cons of following through with her hormone-fuelled plan. “Lilya,” she replied, her smile growing as his widened at learning her name. “And yes, a drink, or two, would be the very least you could do after humiliating me like that, Mister?” “Another bottle of what she’s having,” he said offside to the bartender, who merely nodded dutifully. “And it’s Elek, pleasure to meet you, Lilya. Whatever you have in mind for me to undertake as an act of contrition, I would be more than happy to do,” he answered with such a honeyed tone she was already tempted to lick the side of his mouth to see if he tasted as sweet. “Buy you dinner? Achieve world peace? Cure cancer? Worship at your feet until you saw fit to let me stand again.” He poured her a glass. “Name it.” He was probably a long-lost cousin of theirs. Their flirtier, wisecracking long-lost cousin.

“And if I choose to never let you up from the floor? What then?” she asked teasingly, letting her eyes run up and down his body provocatively, leaving no room for interpretation of what she meant.

It was his turn to pause as a light dusting of pink spread through his cheeks, which she knew had nothing to do with the amount of liquor he had imbibed that evening. “Well then,” he began, tipping his glass back faster than he should have to savour the taste of the sipping tequila. “I would hope that you would have mercy on me… and at least give me a pillow for my knees. I may look young, but these joints just aren’t what they used to be. I would hate for you to be distracted by the sound of them cracking. I’d have to start my apology all over again.”

Lilya burst out laughing and took a sip from her glass.

“Alright Elek, you have my attention. Tell me about yourself,” she smiled.

—

Illario winced when a dull pain radiated through his cheek, the bruise slowly starting to darken from the pink it was earlier that day. If it were up to him, he’d be at home icing up his damn injury but once his grandmother had told him she had taken the liberty of rescheduling the meeting he had been in charge of - he wanted to scream. He stupidly thought for a second that she had done it out of concern for his well-being, wanting her grandson to get thoroughly checked out and ensure he was fine. But no, she wanted to be certain that he couldn’t potentially ruin the merger because he wasn’t of sound mind due to his injury and/or incompetence. Old witch probably assumed that he was going to go insane over seeing Zara again. He was half tempted to tell her to do it herself or wrangle his cousin to do it instead - but he bit his tongue. As they all did when it came to Caterina.

“If you are so eager, go see Teia yourself. She told me in passing that she will be at The Diamond sometime tonight.”

The last thing he wanted to do was go to the same damn club he met Lilya in, not when she was literally in his hands just 12 hours earlier. It would be like an exercise of torture, and as masochistic as he could get, even he wanted no part of it, given his current foul mood.

Illario moved easily past security and was instantly assaulted by the smell of harsh colognes and too-sweet perfumes, the din of too many people talking at once, and the pulsing lights threatening to trigger a migraine when combined with his smarting cheek. He didn’t even know if Teia was there yet; he was just forced to go and wait until she appeared. Thankfully, his EA had the presence of mind to call ahead and secure a private room for him to wait in and to be advised when she would arrive. He was about to be led through the club when he picked up a familiar laugh, cutting through the brief moment of silence between tracks being played, and after only hearing it that day, he could have placed it anywhere.

He turned his head to the sound and craned his neck, dodging around the people walking between them. She was there. Laughing.

With another man.

She leaned in a little too closely, her right arm upon the bar to support her, the man’s arm slung low around her waist. He watched as the cocky little shit pulled her closer and whispered something in her ear which made her laugh even harder, the psychiatrist almost falling backward. Thankfully, the idiot at least had decent reflexes and caught her, taking full advantage of the situation to press her against him. Illario could feel his stomach turn, his teeth clenching at the sight. He didn’t want to see this. Didn’t want to see her from the sidelines as some other guy was lucky enough to hold her and steal a kiss from her lips, when he knew it should have been him in his place. Illario keenly observed the couple in their not-so-private moment, fighting against himself as to whether he wanted to retch at them deepening their kiss or if he wanted to go over and smash the man’s head into the bar… and then retch on him for good measure. From his vantage point, he could see her pull back, her lips slightly swollen and her cheeks flushed with colour. Lilya said something to her companion, and he nodded, taking her hand and guiding her onto the dance floor. His feet followed them without realising, the surprised voice of the club manager fading off into obscurity as he walked away from her, to see where that man had taken his favourite physician.

The man had chosen a free space in the middle of the floor, surrounded by so many others moving to the rhythm. He lifted her hand and encouraged her to spin, circling his arms around her to stop her, both laughing heartily. With a move so smooth even Illario had to give him props, he spun her again so her back rested against his chest, the two just swaying to the music. Illario could feel himself sneer as the man trailed his nose down the line of her neck, and he could see her enjoying it; Illario could almost hear her breathy sighs in his ears. He fumed at the hands that weren’t his, exploring the curve of Lilya’s hips and thighs as he continued to whisper things to her she obviously approved of. Illario felt himself mirror her actions, biting his lip whenever she bit hers.

He was screaming at himself for just gawking at them, even at his lowest, he would never stoop to being voyeuristic without the other person’s knowledge – yes, he was kinky, but he wasn’t a creep - when another woman came and tapped the man on the shoulder. She was as gorgeous as she was furious; even from where he stood, he could feel the ire emitting from her. Lilya’s dance partner said his quick goodbyes and obediently followed the woman off into a dark corner, where she had taken the man by the collar and was tearing into him quite obviously. He didn’t have to hear the conversation to know the woman was warning the man never to stray close to Lilya-or perhaps any other woman-again. The cheating bastard should have known better.

Lilya chuckled to herself and looked around, embarrassed, her expression unsure if she should stay dancing by herself or head back to the bar. Illario watched her enraptured as her thoughts crossed over her face for him to see, her bright eyes closing as she allowed herself to get back into the beat of the song, uncaring that she no longer had a partner to join her, just happy to dance on her own until someone else stepped in. Her hips rocked from side to side as her arms went up above her head as she bounced to the music, happily carving out her own little niche on the floor until her pretty eyes opened and landed directly on him.

---

Lilya paused, frozen to the spot as the realisation of who she was looking at dawned on her. That was not Elek. Nor was it another man who merely resembled the one who had plagued her thoughts for the last three months. It was actually him. Somehow, he had known exactly where to find her, and he was looking at her as if she were his prey. She did not move as he stalked his way over to her, all fluid lines and smooth motions like the perfect predator.

“You look like you’re about to leap on me, Mr Dellamorte. I don’t see any errant exes lurking here in the shadows you need saving from,” she teased when he was within earshot. “Have you managed to turn into some sort of animal in our hours apart? Have you come here on the prowl as the big bad wolf?”

Maker, she was never going to drink again. She was a bloody menace to society.

“Well, I’m certainly not your grandmother,” he said, with the same glint in his eye that fascinated her the first time they met.

“I’d hope not. Otherwise, I’d have to ask how you managed to get your eyesight back, Abuelita- and that might make it weird,” Lilya smiled, her hand rubbing at his chest. Illario could not help but break into a grin when she did not pull away from him. “All the better to see you from across the room, my dear.”

Feeling emboldened, he closed the distance between them so they almost touched and allowed his fingers to skim up her arms, unable to conceal his delight at the way she swallowed instinctively, goosebumps rising along the path he’d travelled. He could tell she was having another internal struggle, being so close to him, torn between what she should do and what she wanted to do. His hands somehow found themselves around her waist, thumbs lightly kneading into her, her eyes darkening as they focused on his mouth.

“What… what large hands you have.”

“All the better to feel more of you with… My dear,” Illario played along, chuckling amusedly. He could feel her relax in his hold, and he pressed his forehead to hers, relishing the physical closeness he seemed to share so easily with her - a force of chemistry or connection he had never felt with anyone. Lilya pulled back to scan over his features, her hands ghosting over his face, fingers tracing the shape of his lips until they pulled back into a wolfish grin.

She licked her lips. So did he. Illario could feel her breathing pick up, shallow and fast.

“My, my,” she whispered, her mouth slyly evading his whenever he tried to kiss her again, giggling softly as he growled with every missed attempt. “What big teeth you have.”

Illario laughed so loudly that some of the other revellers turned around at the sound. His hands shifted to cradle her face, and he pressed a kiss to her hairline, tipping his mouth toward the shell of her ear to ensure his lips feathered against the delicate skin there. “Now, now, darling Lilya. You must remember just how well I can eat you… And if you don’t… I look forward to the chance to remind you.”

Her eyebrows softly curved upward with want, a gasp falling from her lips as her desire took over her, and he waited. They were barely a whisper apart, and if she allowed it, he would be able to kiss her without any other pretence than simply wanting to.

She nodded.

Illario could feel her warm breath on him, eager to taste her lips again-

“Honestly, Lilya. I leave you alone for ten minutes, and you manage to entangle yourself with not one, but two strange men? I don’t know if I should be worried, envious or proud?”

Lilya was released from her wayward longing the moment she heard the other woman's voice and quickly stepped away from Illario; the club was still stifling, but the air around them had turned sharp, almost glacial by contrast. She muttered her apologies and used words like ‘inappropriate’, ‘inebriated’, ‘foolish’ and 'never again' before tottering away and linking arms with her friend, the latter giving him a long but entertained look as she led them out.

Illario shoved his fists deeply into his pockets, unsure if he’d hit someone with how wound up he felt. He counted to ten and breathed, and then did it again before letting his hands fall to his sides and walking out of the club. He couldn’t sit there and mull over what had just happened; he’d drive himself insane. Lilya’s little retreat only poured fuel on the fire already raging inside him. Whatever it was they shared, it wasn’t one-sided. It wasn’t imagined. She wanted him just as much; he felt it in every look and every breath between them. His need for her grew into something fiercer, even more consuming. He had just been chasing her before. Now, she would feel what it meant to be truly hunted by him.

Softly tagging: @jenn2d2 @rookamell @gingervitus @hedwigoprah @trash-nerd @cocoboots @thedissonantverses @ofcrowsanddragons @apothe-cary @serstolas @selennes @brennacedria @basedonconjecture @mythals-whore @seaglassmelody @hightowerqueen @skullypettibone @feaches @the-sparrohawk @nimblefox66 @introvertedfangrl and anyone else who wants to play!

#thursday bangers #illario dellamorte #Illario x rook #illarook #Lucanis Dellamorte #some edits but we still die like men #cos you know there will still be a plethora of mistakes scattered through here for you to find hahaha #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age fanfic #Long Post

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missmonsters2 · 2 years ago

Text

Mirror, Mirror | One

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: The thought of something more had never really crossed Wanda's mind when it came to you. Best friends for 10 years and there hasn't even been one instance of accidental sexual tension. You're her best friend, that's all—until someone points out that you obviously have a very specific type when it comes to dating.

Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.

*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*

Note: i'm back!!! Nothing like coming back and posting a mini series. Enjoy this superior trope. Updates will be on Tuesdays! As you can see, we're trying something new with explicit content lol 😬

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: ~4.1k

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It's strange how sometimes a single sentence can change someone's entire life.

Wanda's thought about what sentences could change her life—usually, they're morbid and depressing.

'You have cancer.'

'Someone you love has died horrifically in an accident.'

'Your cat actually finds living with you miserable and would prefer the dangers of living in the streets.'

Never in a million years would Wanda ever think it'd be, 'Hey, have you ever noticed how your best friend exclusively only dates girls who look like you?'

And don't get Wanda wrong. It wasn't a morbid or depressing change; it was just...a change. An irrevocable change because now, Wanda couldn't stop thinking about it or noticing it.

This was all Steve's fault.

Because if someone like Stupid Steve could notice something like that, it had to mean something, right? But as Wanda remembers about the past girls you've hooked up with and brought around, she doesn't know what to make of it.

A part of Wanda wishes she had never talked to Steve that night at the bar.

"Where's Vis?" Steve asked, looking around.

"With Tony playing pool, I think," Wanda shrugged. She doesn't particularly keep track of where her on-and-off boyfriend goes. She thinks they might be on an off-period right now, anyway.

"And where's—oh, nevermind, there she is," Steve started to say but cut off when they both saw you across the bar talking with the bartender, flirting over drinks—which were probably free if Wanda could guess.

Wanda's slightly annoyed because it's been a long week without seeing you, and Wanda's been used to seeing you almost every day for the past several years of her life. But you've been gone on a work trip this week for a wedding shoot and only came home just a little after lunch and needed an immediate long nap before tonight's get-together.

That meant Wanda was sorely missing out on best-friend time, and now you were off flirting shamelessly with the hot bartender. Wanda's rooting for you, make no mistake. The bartender is definitely easy on the eyes, luscious hair, and lips—something Wanda knows you're weak for.

Plus, Wanda's worried you're not anywhere near getting close to settling down. She wants you to be in a happy, fulfilling relationship. But she supposes she's in no position to talk herself.

Wanda loves Vision without a doubt, but their relationship is definitely chaotic, and Vision keeps pushing for something more serious now that they've been dating (sporadically) for a long time. She's been considering it in her downtime and thinks it might make sense as the next step.

Best friends do everything together, right? So, maybe if Wanda decided to take the next step in a serious relationship, you'd find someone to commit to seriously as well.

Then, both of you could get married at the same time. Then, they could buy a house in the same neighborhood right next to each other. There'd be endless double dates and vacations together. Wanda wouldn't have to miss you.

But first, Wanda needed to regain lost best-friend time, one-on-one style.

"Hey, you know what I just noticed?" Steve said, breaking Wanda's drifting thoughts.

"What?"

"Bug—"

Wanda makes a face at your nickname. Granted, it was Wanda's fault you ended up with it back in your first year of university. You never let her forget it, especially now that you're a professional photographer.

"—over there has a very specific type she goes after for girls," Steve mused, sipping his whiskey before continuing. "I mean, they always have green eyes and brunette—wait, that's not true. She had two red-headed girlfriends in our last year of university. They still had green eyes, though."

"Oh," Wanda said, unsure what to say since she's never paid attention to the girls you were dating. On average, they were a brief fling, and only a few lasted longer than half a year. "I guess so?"

Wanda distantly thinks about how she dyed her hair auburn in her last year of university because she was looking for a change that year and Natasha was insistent that she'd look amazing. Wanda recalls you were a fan of the look.

"Yeah," Steve nodded along. "Ironically, they always look like you in some way. Check out that bartender now—long, wavy-haired brunette with green eyes. She's got thick, long lips and even does that dark eye-shadow makeup thingy like you."

Steve just laughed it off, finishing his drink, thinking nothing more of it before he started talking about Bucky.

But it was like something clicked into place in Wanda's brain. A daunting realization that she was wholly unprepared for and not equipped to do anything about.

Wanda watched as the bartender clocked off for the night and dragged you into a corner booth, drinks in hand. It gave Wanda the perfect view that the bartender wore many rings just like she did.

In the poor privacy of the dimly lit corner booth, there was a staunch and needy kiss from the two of you, and Wanda swallowed roughly.

From here, if you were none the wiser, Wanda could be easily mistaken for the girl in the booth with you.

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Sometimes, Wanda believes she's just being absolutely ridiculous. So what if you go after girls who share the same features as her? That didn't have to mean anything. You've always told Wanda she was beautiful, and it was perfect how you said it.

It didn't feel insincere or creepy. It felt good to know her best friend thought she was absolutely gorgeous. But just because you thought she was beautiful doesn't mean you harbored secret feelings for her.

You'd be insulted if you knew Wanda had ever thought that. She'd just be another one of those girls Wanda's seen you humble on multiple occasions when they found out you dated women, and they were worried you might have a crush on them.

But then, Wanda couldn't stop thinking she actually might be one of those girls because then she'd think about if you didn't consider her like that, it wasn't about her looks but something about her personality that wasn't your type.

And what could that be?

Wanda thought long and hard, trying to remember the girls you've introduced her to.

Sometimes they were funny, and Wanda was funny. She made you laugh all the time. She specifically remembered one time in high school when she made you laugh so hard you peed your pants just a little.

Sometimes they were intellectual, and while Wanda didn't have an IQ of 160, she did fairly well academically and was on the right track in her career.

Sometimes they were charming, and Wanda was the type where she got more charming the more you got to know her.

So, Wanda just doesn't understand. She's nowhere further with her thinking ever since this weird information has been bestowed upon her.

Maybe it all just means nothing. You just didn't feel that way about Wanda despite the type of girls you dated suggesting otherwise. You didn't need a reason for it, and maybe the fact you only felt friendship for her was the reason.

"Wanna order pizza in tonight?"

Wanda turns her head from the tv and notices you've put your book down. "Hm, not really. We had pizza last week," Wanda shakes her head.

"How about that Greek place that just opened up on Willington Ave?" You suggest. "Pretty sure I heard you grumbling about wanting Greek food earlier this week."

"I was not grumbling!" Wanda scoffs but smiles when you raise your eyebrow at her. "Okay, I was grumbling a little."

You snicker as you pull out your phone to order delivery. "Oh, sweet golden best friend of mine, whatever shall you do when you get married to Vis, who hates Greek food. Do I foresee a life of Greekless cuisine? Oh, the suffering you'll go through!"

"I don't need him to like it," Wanda slaps your arm, sticking her tongue out before she cuddles you. "I have you to eat it with."

You laugh unabashedly, a sound that Wanda's accustomed to hearing the joyful sound. "Better hope the person I marry also hates Greek cuisine. I don't know if I can live a life of eating double the Greek food. I love tzatziki sauce, but if I grow to hate it from eating it too much, I will make you suffer the consequences of that."

Your voice trails off as you focus on ordering food, unable to see the cogs in Wanda's head turning.

It's all so easy. There's no tension, no electric vibes happening. Just best friends enjoying the banter and making plans to eat.

It was all in Wanda's head, right? You're her best friend, so of course you'd know everything about her.

The right type of friendship is fulfilling and soul-connecting, and that's what Wanda has with you. When you have a one-in-a-million connection like that, the line between friendship and romance is thin, isn't it?

Wanda hates Steve. She'd never think about this if it wasn't for Stupid Steve. She can hear his dumb laugh, blissfully ignorant about the observation bomb he dropped upon her.

"Do you wanna get ice cream after?" You ask, throwing your phone to the side. "I'll even treat you to the gelato despite knowing I'm going to suffer through your crazy farts later."

"Oh my god, I'm going to trap you under the blanket with it just for that!"

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Within two months, Wanda forgets about it. Forgets, as in that she decides to drop it (let it linger in the deep depths of her brain that she refuses to acknowledge), and resolves that Steve has no brain cells and has no idea what he's saying.

"Have you seen my strapless black top?" Wanda shouts from her room with the door open. "The one with the v-shaped front!"

"In your closet!" You yelled back from the living room, not taking your eyes off your phone.

"I can't find it," Wanda whines, and she hears you sigh as you get up. The footsteps approach her room, and she finds you standing at the door with an unimpressed look.

"I don't want to hear it," Wanda sniffs.

"Hear what, brat?" You say with a brow raised before you start rummaging through her closet. The nickname was a joke you started that Wanda was entirely a spoiled person, exhibiting bratty behavior at times. "That I'm not gonna be your roommate forever, so you need to learn to fold it yourself before putting it away?"

Wanda makes grumbling noises that are mostly nonsensical but smiles when you pull out the top she was looking for.

"You are the apple of my eye, stinky," Wanda grabs the top from you before she runs into her washroom to briefly change into it.

"A match made in heaven, yeah, yeah," you roll your eyes with good humor. "Hurry up, Natasha will kill us if we're late for Yelena's birthday. They're on an upwards mend in their relationship, so she's been so unbearably uptight lately to make sure nothing goes wrong."

"I know, I know," Wanda mutters, carefully pulling the top over her head to not ruin her makeup.

"Alright, I'll hail us a cab, meet me outside."

"Wait, wait!" Wanda calls out. "I need help putting on my necklace."

You chuckle, walking back just as Wanda steps out of the bathroom with the delicate necklace she wants to wear.

"Alright, alright, relax," you tell her. "Your accent gets really strong when you're stressed."

"You're stressing me out by rushing me," Wanda scrunches her nose even though you can't see it. "I'm also stressed knowing that you have to rush me, or I'll spend the party getting lectured by Natasha."

Wanda's voice comes out husked with the accent, something she's struggled between hating or loving, but mostly loving since you've expressed how lovely it is.

You grab the necklace from her hand, and Wanda moves her hair out of the way. The routine of it all starts to bleed the tension out of her shoulders.

Then, that horrible Stupid Steve Sentence kicks into her brain.

It's only as you put your arms over, placing the necklace against Wanda's chest, and focusing on trying to get the clasp in. Wanda can feel your warm breath against her neck, summoning goosebumps along her arms. You're so close, and she can feel the heat of your body radiating onto her, your fingers just barely brushing against her.

The tension comes suddenly, squeezing inside her chest as her breathing slows and shakes. Her body warms in an unexpected way.

"Ah, got it," you say, but Wanda can only focus on your voice and breath on the shell of her ear. "Cute necklace but the clasp is so annoying."

You pull away and start walking off. "C'mon, I bet if we tip our taxi driver an extra $20 bucks, they'll speed and we can pray we're on time."

Wanda's left standing there, knowing she probably sounds like she's fresh out of Sokovia with how stressed she is. Her right eye twitches.

Was that...Wanda gulps. Was that sexual tension?

And was she the only one who felt it?

Fuck.

She's going to kill Steve.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Natasha's absolutely neurotic when they arrive. It's just a simple backyard party, but it almost looks like a wedding venue with all the catering and flowers.

Wanda's pretty sure Natasha's only being like this because she's overthinking about whether to cling to Yelena or give her sister some space to mingle with others. She seems to be sizing up Kate, who Yelena might be seeing, but it hasn't been confirmed.

Yelena looks between exasperated with Natasha and secretly happy about the entire thing. Wanda can sympathize with her. After all, she's also a little sister, and Pietro can also be way too overprotective. Sometimes she's glad he's abroad in Europe for work while she remains in New York, but she misses him more often than she admits.

"Alright, alright, Natasha," you groan, and Wanda's mind slips back into the conversation. "We're 3 minutes late, relax, will you? Damn, are you always gonna be like this until you and Yelena get back into whatever sibling bond you had before? Hope you're just like this with us because otherwise, you're gonna scare away all her friends, and she's going to hate you."

"Oh my god, do you think she'll really hate me?" Natasha bites her bottom lip in worry while looking around at all the people that they can only assume she's nagged about being late or whatever mishap.

"Oh, man," you sigh, putting your hand on her shoulders before pushing her towards the bar. "You need some drinks and maybe some desserts in you."

Wanda's about to follow you when you turn around and nod your head in a different direction. She looks over and sees you're nodding toward Vision.

"You should go say hi to him," you tell her. "You've been complaining about not seeing him all last week, even though I don't know why you guys won't just FaceTime, but I digress. Come find me later, or I'll find you after."

You look over at Natasha, who's peering on her tippy toes to see if she can find Yelena.

"And, hopefully, I'll have ditched this nutjob," you whisper conspiratorially and laugh when Natasha turns around to smack your arm.

"I heard that!"

Wanda chuckles as you walk off with Natasha while she turns and heads toward Vision. Despite how she was complaining about not seeing Vision last week because she did miss him, her expression was sour as she made her way toward him.

Vision spots her immediately and waves at her with a warm smile. Wanda feels herself somewhat loosened at his expression. They'd also been friends a long time before they started on-and-off dating, so at the very least, she does miss his easy friendship.

"Hey," Vision hugs her, slightly rubbing her back before he pulls away but keeps his arm around her. "It's been a while; you look lovely."

"Thanks," Wanda smiles with a shrug. She looks around and sees he's standing with Tony and Pepper. "How are you guys?"

"Could be better," Tony sighs dramatically. "Natasha won't let me do any of my cool party tricks as if I'm going to ruin her little sister's party. If anything, I could make it the party of the century!"

Pepper rolls her eyes good-naturedly. "We were just talking about how we're thinking of going to the Bahamas for vacation in December and escaping the cold. We've invited you and Vision along since it's been awhile since we've all gone together. Of course, we can also invite Bug and Natasha."

"Oh," Wanda says for a lack of anything else to say. She doesn't know how to feel about it, but she peers over at Vision, who's just smiling at her and looking eager about it.

"I need another drink if I'm going to suffer through this party," Tony sighs. "Maybe I can convince Yelena instead!" He grins, dragging Pepper along, and they walk off together.

"So, what do you think?" Vision asks when they're alone. "I didn't want to reply on your behalf since I wasn't sure, but I think it'd be good for us. I've missed you," Vision pauses as if he's about his next words but then says, "a lot."

"Yeah, me too," Wanda starts to say, but then her brain gets all haywire because it feels like a lie. She did miss him, but did she miss him a lot? "I think."

"You think?"

Wanda wants to smack her forehead because she didn't mean to say that out loud. "I mean, I was complaining a lot that I haven't seen you in a while all last week."

"Yeah, work has just been overwhelming. I get so tired after work, I just can't keep up with the texting or calls."

But you can, Wanda thinks. Granted, you're her roommate, so it's easier. But even when you have to go on work trips, you regularly text her no matter what time and squeeze in a quick call, even if it's just to say goodnight.

The entire thing makes Wanda bite her tongue because why was she even thinking about that? That was completely irrelevant to Vision.

Then—because as if just thinking about you wasn't enough—her eyes trail across the room, and the scene before her makes Wanda even more confused about her feelings.

You're standing there with Natasha at the bar, but it looks like Natasha's calling someone over to introduce you to them.

Another brunette with long, wavy hair, like she just had a blowout done. Wanda's not 100% sure from this distance, but she has an inkling that the brunette also has green eyes. She's wearing a white halter top and wide-legged sage green pants. She wears a lot of rings, but her makeup is lighter and more summery compared to Wanda's darker, smokey eye makeup.

In short, this woman was the clean girl aesthetic version of Wanda.

And you look interested.

This was ridiculous, Wanda fumes, feeling her stomach sink and cheeks flare hot in anger. As quick as the anger came, it dissipated.

Why was she so angry?

She feels betrayed, and her thoughts are turning very ugly. Wanda is definitely not being a girl's girl right now with how much she's thinking she's better than the girl in front of you.

But that just makes everything so much more confusing.

"Wanda?"

Wanda turns her head back to Vision. He looks concerned, and even when his eyes trail toward what Wanda's staring at, there's no additional reaction. He's not upset that she's staring at you, and that has to mean something, right?

It must mean there was never a concern about how Wanda might've felt about you. Sure, there were a few things Wanda couldn't be without, and you were one of them, but nobody can't be without their best friend.

No one had ever blinked twice about you and Wanda.

Except now.

And that person was Wanda herself.

The more Wanda thought about the entire thing, the more she became curious. The idea of you dating people who looked like Wanda was intriguing. She wanted to ask questions but didn't know what to ask.

It might mean nothing, but it also might mean something.

And if it does mean something, Wanda wants to know what exactly it is.

Therefore, Wanda needs nothing in her way to find out the truth and exactly what she wants, regardless of the answer.

This was insane, wasn't it? Wanda's always been ambivalent about dating women. She's never gone out of her way to try it since she had Vision. Never mind entertaining thoughts about dating her best (girl)friend. And now, she was giving everything up in the pursuit of finding out what it could mean that her best friend was dating her lookalikes—and why she cared.

Wanda doesn't even know what she'll want to do with that information.

Wanda looks at Vision, peering at his features she's always found handsome. When she thinks back, she's not even sure why she complained to you about how she hasn't seen or heard from him lately. She hadn't even gone out of her own way to do something about it.

"I'm not going on the trip. I don't think I actually missed you like that."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The girl introduced to you was named Raye, Natasha's coworker that recently moved from Nashville. It was also confirmed she has green eyes, though they had specks of brown in them. She was a southern belle with a bold attitude, witty, and a wicked sense of humor. All in all, undeniably charismatic.

At least, that's what you told her in private because all Wanda could feel was unrestricted aggravation with the other girl. The southern twang made Wanda's eye twitch, mostly because she knew you were head over heels for accents.

"And then before I knew it, I was panicked and more lost than a blindfolded turkey on thanksgiving!"

You burst out laughing while Wanda's expression is stony, but when you look at Wanda, she forces a smile on her lips.

"Hahaha," Wanda dryly let out. "So funny."

But it wasn't. What the fuck did that even mean?

Raye continues to talk while you listen with rapt interest, and Wanda takes the time to observe your features in a way she's done many times before but with a different mindset.

Your lips are curved in a smile, glistening from your chapstick. They're shapely, and they look soft. It rivals her favorite feature of yours, which is your eyes. They've always been so expressive with her, and Wanda's been around long enough that she knows what every expression means. She can tell when they glint with mischievousness or are soft with immense compassion and empathy.

"So, what did you think of Raye?" You ask Wanda as you leave the party.

"She's cool, I guess," Wanda answers nonchalantly.

The rest of the party was excruciating between Raye constantly hanging around you and Wanda also being too nervous to be alone with you.

"Really cool," you sigh with a grin. "Glad I got her number. It's been a while since I've met someone so funny."

Was she funny, though? Wanda wonders.

"Funnier than me?" Wanda finds herself asking.

"No one could be funnier than you, brat," you smirk. "I almost peed myself laughing again when you almost knocked off Yelena's cake. I thought Natasha was about to enter into a coma." You snicker while Wanda rolls her eyes with a smile.

"Glad I can always give you the biggest laughs, stinky."

Wanda glances over at your face, recognizing the excitement by the brightness in them. It's just another reminder that, as your best friend, she knows you like the back of her hand.

But lately, when Wanda watches you pick up girls, she can tell when they're heady with desire. That look hasn't been directed at her, and Wanda wants to know what it'd be like if it were.

Wanda recalls the night you kissed the bartender and imagines if it had been her instead. She pictures your hand sliding across her jaw and cheek while your other pulls her closer at the waist.

It's horrifying when a slow pit of arousal builds in Wanda's gut and...other regions. It feels utterly frightening and wrong like she's betraying the friendship for having and then reacting to such thoughts about you.

But there's another part—the part that tells Wanda there's nobody in this world that she loves more than you. The mere idea of ever being apart from you was unfathomable. Wanda could and has endured so many things, and it would always be okay as long as she had you.

So, knowing that Southern Belle Raye has the potential to be more than a one-night stand to you, Wanda realizes that she has a very small window to not only come to terms with her newfound feelings but also act on them as well.

If this didn't go well, Wanda would definitely murder Steve.

PART TWO

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x y/n #avengers imagine #scarlet witch imagine #scarlet witch x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #modern avengers au #Elizabeth olsen x reader #mm: my fics

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historicity-was-already-taken · 9 months ago

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So, I saw you mention from the river to the sea being antisemitic. I’ve heard various people claim it had antisemitic origins but was never able to find reliable corroborating messages and was curious if u could elaborate on that more, if that’s why. The other argument I’ve heard is it being coded for “free from the jews” which. Yk. I definitely know there are some people who say it with that intent. But I am skeptical of insisting that implication is Always present to people who have found it a useful slogan to rally around on this issue without evidence backing up that intent in the original popularization of the slogan or that it has been widespread deliberately used with that meaning for a long time. Given your whole historian business I don’t doubt that you DO have solid reason for saying it’s antisemitic, I’d just love to hear the details.

I'm going to copy and paste what I wrote about this in an earlier post, because that's still my response:

"That phrase contains strongly genocidal undertones with regard to the Jewish population of Israel who were forced to settle there after being ethnically cleansed from their homes across Eurasia and North Africa over the course of the 20th century (many of whom were and continue to be treated like shit by that country's government and don't get me started on the Yishuv's treatment of Holocaust survivors).

More than half of the Jewish population of the world lives in Israel. As an American Jew and a Holocaust historian keenly aware of the circumstances regarding the postwar Jewish peopling of the modern State, I am deeply uncomfortable with seeing that phrase in my intellectual space. Free Palestine, yes; work towards equal rights for Arab and Palestinian citizens of Israel, yes; engage in active reparations for Palestinians who had their property actively stolen from them in 1948, yes; Truth and Reconciliation Commissions, yes; but not on the bodies of half of the 15 million Jews who remain on this planet."

There is no Collective Jewish Take on this, because Jews are not a hivemind. But it is my take, as a Jew, and as a Holocaust historian.

Jews across any political spectrum will be extremely sensitive to ANY language which reads to us incitement to ethnic cleansing, because we've been ethnically cleansed from all regions of Eurasia over the course of our ~3000 year history. A lot of Palestine activists don't want to engage with that and really resent being told that they need to. And like, I get it; I get their frustration, resentment, rage, and righteous indignation. But the Jewish pasts, and Jewish knowledge of our tenuous ongoing existence on this planet; those aren't going to go away just because it complicates rhetoric on the Israel/Palestinian Conflict.

People can keep using "from the river to the sea." You can keep using it. I'm not the Language Police. Some Jews here and elsewhere may feel comfortable using it and being in spaces where it's used. I'm not going to shit on those Jews or call them "Kapos" or "Self-hating" or "pick-mes." But I'm also not going to change my opinion or my analysis, or ever be comfortable with its use in my intellectual space.

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graveyardhorror · 2 months ago

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HAVE WE MET BEFORE? | yandere!RHEA RIPLEY x actress!reader part 2

TERROR TWINS MASTERLIST ★ 2k word count

part 1 | part 2 ⤵ | part 3 | part 4

After two long weeks your press tour was finally over. Despite the overwhelming success and your newfound popularity, it was nice to relax and not have to be running around doing interviews and other perky events all day and night.

Sleeping in, eating comforting foods, and not setting an alarm to wake up before the sun rises felt good. As you settled in for the newest live show for wwe raw, your first monday off couldn't get any better.

After the infamous live interview you couldn't get enough of all the edits, stories, and other posts from your fans. If you would have known that outing yourself as a die-hard Rhea fan would result in being shipped religiously with her, you'd done it much sooner.

It's all you've been doing lately, laying in bed kicking your feet excitedly as your longtime secret fan account was full of these kinds of posts. Your favorites fueling your passionate daydreams.

While waiting for the show to begin, your mind drifts back to the moment she acknowledged your existence for the first time.

༝ flashback

As the interview came to an end you reached for your phone, purely by habit you instantly opened up the Instagram app and checked your accounts. Thousands of new followers and likes filled your notification tab.

With a small smile you couldn't help but speak aloud, "That's a lot of new people..."

One particular notification stood out. A new follower that wore a verification mark, a celebrity. One whose username lived in your mind like the person behind it owned your heart, Rhea Ripley.

As suggested by your management you followed nobody on your official account, your secret one though you didn't have to worry about. What they didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

You had been dreaming of the day she would dare acknowledge you, it seemed as if that day would never come but little did you know that your feelings were very much mutual.

She was bold you'd give her that, but you could be bolder and much more confident behind a screen. Interacting with beautiful women on over text message wasn't hard when you could react however you'd like and not suffer being embarrassed in front of them.

Following you during the live interview, posting a clip of your slightly embarrassing confession on her Instagram story for all her followers to see, captioning it with a black heart.

Oh, there was no doubt about it. "She wants me...," smugly you whispered to no one in particular. Feeding your own delusions? or maybe she was just going through her mentions tab and reposted it without much thought?

All you wanted to do at that moment was go home, relax. And by that you meant you were going to daydream about how you wouldn't waste this newfound opportunity.

If there's an opening, trust that you will be the first to take it.

༝ (flashback over)

Copy her moves but be more daring, the fans will eat it up. Having a little fun can't hurt, can it? Realistically it's not like she'll see it if you don't tag her, right?

Taking a quick but effortless selfie, you updated your socials with the same photo and caption.

Waiting for #mondaynightraw to start so I can see my future wifey :)

That should do it! Speaking your dreams into existence, wouldn't be the first time it worked!

༝

Over the past few weeks of itching to slide into a certain someone's dm's you couldn't help but wonder what would you even say in the first place?

Perhaps, "hey thanks for letting your five million followers know that i have a huge crush on you, i hope we can be friends <3." Such a big joke.

A sharp and loud ping from your phone breaks your train of thought, a new dm from your Instagram.

rhearipley_wwe future wifey huh? how about you take me out to dinner first ;)

Oh. My. Gosh.

You didn't think she'd see that. Now you have to figure out how to make sure she doesn't think you're a creep or total loser.

Focus diva, you've got this one in the bag. Safe and secure.

"Hey siri...give me some clever pick up lines"

༝

After messaging for a short while, the show began and Rhea coolly ended the conversation telling you to keep your eye out during the show.

Meanwhile Rhea was trying her hardest not to freak out as there were others around. The love of her life who she thought didn't even know about her existence, knew and was just as obsessed with her as she was? Well, maybe not as obsessed.

Rhea had multiple of what people could refer to as shrines of you. All your lives work, from every movie you'd done to every piece of merchandise you had released (some that she had even made herself), etc.

It didn't stop there, despite her on screen persona who's aura radiated confidence and dominance, she would never had dared to make the first move unless there was a clear opening.

It's kind of funny really, how she came to know you in the first place.

༝ flashback

This day could not get any worse. First Rhea forgets to pack her raincoat before heading to the gym and as a result got completely soaked while getting into her car, and second she had forgotten about re-packing her gym bag the night before.

Now she was stuck with a dirty protein shake bottle, a sweaty gym set from yesterday, and now what seemed like a random woman taking her spot on the treadmill.

Despite placing obvious markers on the machine, her half empty water bottle and sweat soaked towel, the person did not seem to pay them any mind.

Rhea decided to pack her stuff and simply finish her workout regime at home, where there would be no crowd hogging all the machines and she could de-stress properly.

Annoyed and with a slightly sour look to her face, she marched towards the treadmill and went in to quickly snatch her belongings.

There was one thing made Rhea come to a complete and sudden halt, she was pretty cute and walking with her eyes closed? Maybe she shouldn't be angry because with a face like hers who could stand a chance?

Coming back to her senses, Rhea slowly grabs her things and walks out the building. Glancing back every few seconds just to get a glimpse of her, still oblivious to what just happened.

"Holy shit...I think I just met my soulmate" she mumbled as she entered her car.

When she returned home, she couldn't help but wonder who she was. No, she needed to know if she didn't find out asap she was sure she'd lose every last bit of sanity she had left.

And so it began, with a one sided encounter and a seemingly one sided delusional romance, Rhea swore that one day she would have her all to herself whether she liked it not.

༝ flashback over

Scrolling and typing for what seemed like hours, Rhea could barely keep her eyes open as she had her eyes glued to screen of her phone.

It had been only a couple of minutes since she had awoken, and it was safe to say that her mind was already occupied with the thoughts of a certain someone.

Her secret account was active and catching up on the latest news of her dream girl, from wholesome edits to updates on her favorite fictional stories of said girl, it was turning out to be a great morning.

This had been part of her morning ritual ever since that fated day, their first meeting even though they didn't even know it.

After last night's small adventure, Rhea had decided to let others join in on the beauty of her lady and fangirl over her a bit, not too much though.

Going to her trusty secret account, she updated her followers with new photos of her favorite actress. Tens of comments flooded her screen:

where did you find this pic of her?!

omfgg she looks so good with her new hair!!

Most comments talked about how good she was at finding rare photos of the actress and many didn't question anything as long as they received nice pictures to look at.

When she first made her account she'll admit her fear of being labeled a stalker but thankfully her content always made it to the crowd with the same objective in mind: know more about her.

Anyhow, Rhea decided it was time to spice things up a bit.

"I need to get her to interact directly with me, but how?"

While getting ready for a big day ahead of her, tonight's show, she thought of different ways to gain attention, mumbling to herself quietly in the empty training center,

"Maybe...I can go live and answer some questions...if she joins and comments then all I have to do is reel in the bait"

"If I make the cage comfortable enough, my little birdy won't even know she's trapped"

༝

After the show was over Rhea decided to go with plan A: have a "spontaneous" QnA livestream and hope for her bird to fly in.

Laying in bed in her hotel room she began the livestream. Rhea was wearing one of her usual casual outfits, a baggy tee and her favorite branded sweatpants. Everything she did was thought out when it came to impressing her special someone.

Rhea knew her inside out; following her around like her guardian angel, and not a stalker, she found out many things about her that no one else knew.

Public information about an up and coming actress is hard to come by, though everyone is watching their every move no one seems to pay attention to the little things, the more important ones.

Sure, finding your favorite celebrities high school photo is cute and all but what Rhea really wanted to know was what made her tick and who was she really?

Others say "more money, more problems," but to Rhea that was far from the truth. More money equals more connections and even more resources. What's the point of having so much money if she doesn't have a lover to spoil?

As her followers rushed into the stream, Rhea's eyes were searching for her username or even someone mentioning her.

She read quite a few comments before deciding it was time to talk and answer some questions,

Helloo everyone, welcome to my live

I wanted to have a chat before I went to bed, so ask away

"Are you prepared for next week's match?"

What kind of question? I'm Rhea bloody Ripley, I'm always ready for a fight

"YOU WATCHED THE INTERVIEW DID YOU WATCH THE MOVIE???"

Oooh, asking the important questions now (she lets out a quiet laugh)

Of course I watched the movie, it was amazing. That beauty sure knows how to act, let her know for me yeah?

Rhea's eyes squint the tiniest bit, she joined her live. Jackpot, even if she joined five minutes late she could make it work.

She decided to get more comfortable, running a hand through her short hair, she flexed her arm just enough to seem nonchalant.

"SHE JUST JOINED YOUR LIVE RHEA IK WHAT U AREEE"

Guys, I almost forgot to tell you about what I did today! (her voice now cheery, too cheery...)

This morning while I was working out to prepare for today's match, I hit a new pr!

Can you believe it? Mami's getting stronger! Not like anyone's surprised (she lets out a laugh)

After a entire half an hour of Rhea putting on her best livestream show to date, she decided it was time to end the live. For her birdie's sake that is, not because she couldn't help but imagine their reactions to her "subtle" online flirting.

Plus, Rhea had some bedtime routine to get to. As in watching her girl through her own security system and catching up on her favorite show.

༝

After the live was ended by Rhea herself she had an old idea pop into her mind, one that for sure would boost ratings at her workplace. Picking up her phone she made a quick call,

"Hey boss, I have an idea for next week's show"

dividers by cafekitsune

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loganlermanstanaccount · 2 years ago

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Rigor Mortis (part 1)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Prologue, Part 2

summary: After the breakup, you move into a new place.

warnings: no warnings! cheeky bit of angst at the end

a/n: this is me admitting that realistically, miguel would be sick of our shit.

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Join my taglists here <3

wc: 4.2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

or in the cold, crisp morn:

"These are the keys," Your new landlord hands you the copies, clinking against each other as you transfer them to a dish by the door. Your first thought is that there seem to be too many for this modest apartment: of varying shapes and sizes, and at least half a dozen. He steps through a wide archway to the kitchen, eerily clean. It's not modern by any means, the top half of a hulking brownstone some time away from college.

It’s been… a trying summer. Moving halfway across the country with your boyfriend had seemed like a great idea at the time. Younger you (barely 2 years ago) had been enamoured with the promises of city life: fast-paced, bustling, and never a dull day. Naivete and big ideas that you'd been too stupid, or maybe too desperate, to let go of. After being locked in a loop of the same 3 or 4 places, the same dozen faces - in a place as big as this, mind you - maybe your ex-boyfriend had freed you. Forced you from that halfway-home; as cold and empty as it had become; and back out into the world.

The reality was less than ideal - apartment hopping across the city for the past 4 months or so. You’d seen it all: glorified shoeboxes, fancy duplexes, viewing sublet rooms that were at least a little illegal. A box within a box within a box; coat closets rented out for double your monthly take home; and you had just about given up.

So this place seemed like a godsend: a brownstone, tucked away. Its interior is dated, but gorgeous. It had character: quirks and rich history in the brick and mortar. A fireplace tucked into the corner, window alcoves, wood panelling. Yes, the wallpaper was slightly warped with damp but it’s affordable - a reasonably priced gem that had made you jump when you saw the ad. With the overexposed and pixelated images, they didn’t do it justice.

You pad into the kitchen, running your hands on the smooth countertops. They’re bare and spotless - suspiciously so. Not many personal items, no fridge magnets, photos; nary a blanket on the sofa or half eaten plate of toast on the worktop. It’s so clean it feels staged, and it makes you squint. Isn’t there meant to be…

“I let Miguel know… he must’ve cleaned up the place-”

“Miguel?”

“The other tenant.” He pauses, boots clicking on the grain of the floorboard. “I don’t think he’ll be back until later tonight. Should give you some time to settle in.”

Nodding, you give him a small smile, and he steps out of the apartment. Your apartment.

~~~

You fill the rest of day with unpacking, putting some life into the place. You’d visited not long ago, fantasising about how you’d decorate. Something about sharing an apartment with your boyfriend for the past 2 years had done something to you: flattening and squeezing into a space not built with you in mind. How Jamie didn't like things on the walls, or how he needed the space for his textbooks, so why don't you find somewhere else to put your little stories? If his desk took up half the front room, then that makes sense, he needs it for work. But God forbid you needed a quiet space to study; what if the guest bedroom has your shit everywhere when his friends come over? A million compromises that didn't seem much like compromises: you'd give an inch and he'd take a mile. And so, the space to spread your wings without knocking over a gaudy plaque or two was very much appreciated.

You want to walk around the neighbourhood, map out the convenience stores, bodegas, community hotspots and hubs. Where's the best place to get a drink? The cheapest meal? Your usual haunts were a fair distance away, so maybe you'll make the trek and pick up waffles from Pam's, as a treat. Tired already, you slump on the sofa - a tattered old thing that can clearly take a beating. Looking around the place, something settles solidly at your chest. Contentment, maybe, a strange feeling considering the past few months. This will do, you think. This will do.

Perhaps it's not a very feminist thought, but you're not thriving . Thriving felt presumptuous, and yet coping seemed too complete a word - its implication too tidy, too neat. A mess, before; better, now…? And it didn't quite span the width and depth of the past few months; how long it had taken for the numbness to make way to anger, hot and intense - its flame fueling many a long night. And yet, maybe coping was just the way to describe your foray into this new chapter: a new year, new apartment, and whatever that brings. You had forgotten what it felt like to be alone; not lonely, but with only your own self for company. Without the ache of another person, for the first time in a while.

…except, you had a roommate. Which you had known when signing the lease, of course, but it's taken some time to sink in. What that means for you - a new person to tiptoe around and appease - you're not too sure yet. What is he like? He's out late, so maybe a chronic partygoer - sloppy drunk and vivacious, the life of the party. He might clatter into the apartment, chattering and bubbly. What do you know about him? From the apartment, as is, it doesn't tell you much. At first glance, it had looked too clean, but not unreasonably so if he had anticipated your arrival. No, it was the lack of personal effects that confused you. How long has he been living here and there aren't any pictures or knick knacks? To clutter is to be human, you think. And with the front room as blank as it is, you wonder just what kind of man he is.

It's getting late. Naturally, you do some snooping, lazily padding around in search of life. Onwards and upwards, to new frontiers: the cupboards and drawers in your new apartment.

He likes coffee, you learn. There's a fancy machine on the kitchen counter, glossy and shiny and clearly taken care of. Little packets of beans and filters line the cupboards, all with names you can't quite pronounce. The fridge is similarly well-stocked, with none of the junk food you've gotten accustomed to in the past few months. Its innards are leafy green and plush; labelled tupperware with leftovers notwithstanding. All the spices in a tray above the oven and fancy knives on the wall tell you he likes to cook, or rather, he likes to eat well. The lack of junk would take some getting used to - maybe he's a health nut? The type to go on runs at the ass-crack of dawn, to blend oddly coloured smoothies, and "reflect" after a long day of… dog walking or something.

You move on to the living room, running a light hand over the deep walnut of a side table behind the sofa. Again, it's oddly bare. When you tug at the drawers, it's brassy handles are solid. Locked. Kneeling, you run a hand across the larger cupboard door at its base. You pull at it, and it pops open with a click. Inside, it seems empty, save for a dusty box nestled in the back corner. With your top half almost completely inside its depths, you move it into the light.

It's old, a battered shoebox adorned with coloured sharpie - shaky drawings of flowers blossoming from its sides. The cardboard crackles when you open it. It's full of junk, mostly: half-dead pens, broken crayons, dried flowers, and little plastic toys - the kind you get from cereal boxes and happy meals. And, there's something peeking out. Confused, you dig a little deeper, to uncover a pair of… soccer cleats? They're tiny, clearly for a kid but seem barely worn, with minimal scuffing on the plastic blades.

"What the fuck are you doing?" A voice from above rumbles, and your head snaps up like a rubber band. You hadn't noticed the door open, and you are met face to face with, who you assume to be, your roommate.

He doesn't shout: tall, broad, and back straight by the door. He's got a backpack slung over his shoulder, dressed in a crisp white shirt and slacks. His name was… Miguel? Miguel crosses his arms, brows furrowed in quiet rage. Fuck.

"I was just looking for.. uhh…"

You know how it looks. It's the worst time for your brain to go blank, and you're left holding the hypothetical bag. You stand up a little too quickly, and smack your knee on the lip of the table. Half of the box spills onto the floor and you dart downwards, embarrassed.

" Shit. Sorry, let me-"

He leaps towards the floor, and you're forced behind him, as he scrambles to put everything in its place. You start to help and he stops, stock-still. As if in slow motion, his head turns to the side and he gives you a look that could kill thousands. Retreating, you shrink back, only able to watch helplessly.

" Chica tonta... ¿se crió en un rancho? ¿qué clase de persona entra en casa de alguien y toca todas sus cosas?" He's muttering something under his breath - too fast and not saying anything you can understand. Pausing, he throws you a look. "...y luego me ve como si yo fuera el que está mal- ojos grandes y bonitos como de perrito pateado...oh dios mío.-"

[silly little girl… was she raised in a barn? what kind of person walks into someone's house and touches all of their stuff? // and she looks at me like I'm the one in the wrong - big, pretty eyes like a kicked puppy… oh my god-]

He's gentle with the box, the way he puts it in its place contrasting his mood a couple of seconds before. He closes up the door and you stumble to your feet. In the glow of halogen bulbs, he follows, arms crossed like a mother hen.

"I think… I think I'm your new roommate?" You say your name and stretch out a hand, but Miguel doesn't move. You watch as his eyes sweep over your body, shameless.

"Are you asking, or telling me?" He sighs, pinching at his temples.

"...Telling?" You offer him a weak smile, and he cracks.

Softening, ever so slightly, he grumbles. "I know. I know. Mr Estévez said you would be in tomorrow, though."

"I like to be early."

"Right. Well… don't do that. Again, I mean." He clears his throat. "Don't touch my shit either. It's too… fuck , it's too late for this. I'm going to bed."

He kicks off his shoes, and all you can do is watch as he saunters off; the door to his room shutting with a resounding slam .

~~~

His name is Miguel O'Hara - not that he told you that, or anything. He hasn't spoken to you much at all, leaving you to figure out who he is and what he does from vague clues around the apartment. You don't go snooping , learning quickly from previous mistakes; but his full name on a letter slotted through the mail was fair game, you think. The most you've gotten out of him were grunts and frustrated requests to keep to your shelf in the fridge.

Passive-aggressive wasn't in his vocabulary, you’re convinced. A plethora of dirty looks in his arsenal? Sure. Plenty of vulgar swears in Spanish? Absolutely. Miguel was not, however, passive-aggressive. Just… aggressive. Not angry, of course. Upfront. Abhorred any passivity and indolence: umm-ing and ahh-ing for the sake of it.

So naturally , you were sent to kill him.

You tiptoe around the apartment, avoiding him at all costs. At first, it wasn’t on purpose, just the awkwardness of your first meeting bleeding into the next week. But you dodge and weave like an expert boxer - particularly impressive in the small space. Miguel’s in the kitchen? Suddenly, you’re not very hungry. He’s curled up on the couch for a movie? Wow, look at the time: and you're heading to bed. You can’t read him very well, and don’t trust yourself enough to look him in the eye without fear of melting under his gaze. The few short interactions you have, you crumble; a brush against his shoulder in the kitchen, or legs against his on the dining table. Not that Miguel offers a peace branch, pursing his lips when you’d make eye contact, somewhat frustrated at your theatrics. Call it cliche: you’re avoiding confrontation at all costs. It manifests itself in peculiar ways: the Shower Incident being the most memorable.

The Shower Incident, aptly named, happened not too long ago. The apartment is old , as you soon learnt, coming with its own plethora of quirks. What you had first taken as character and charm - window seats and wood panelling - also came in the form of a building half falling apart. Creaky floorboards, leaky pipes, and a distinct lack of central heating. The discounted price, that had seemed like a bargain before, clearly lacked some creature comforts… like heating. And a working shower.

As you’d been in a rush, you clattered into the bathroom; stripping in no time at all. Bare feet on the tile, and you turn the knobs at the base of the shower unit. You’re not going to pretend you know how it works, just yet, but… it’s not rocket science, is it? The brassy spout sputters; but with no luck. Groaning from the pipes makes you jump, before huffing in frustration. This is not the time; late to yet another 9.00am? You want to be different this year: organised, put together, and on time to your lectures. On your tiptoes, you peer down the shower head hesitantly, like it’s the barrel of a loaded gun. With cruel irony, it sputters to life, sending a face-full of ice-cold water your way.There’s a scream, as you scramble at the handles, scurrying out of its brunt; desperately trying to turn it off.

Unbeknownst to you, Miguel leaps out of his room towards the shouting, with a fumble and clunk of his feet on wooden floor. He’s quick , hand hovering on the bathroom door before you can register it; his voice echoing outside.

“Are you…” There’s scuffling, which you can just about hear over the pounding of the water against tiles. “Are you okay, in there?”

You wince, stepping out of the shower – legs shaky like a baby deer – as you gurgle. “...Yeah?”

“Can I –” He clears his throat. “Are you.. clothed ? Can I come in?”

You scramble for something to cover yourself, settling for a plush towel on the rack. Wrapping yourself up, you brace yourself for the grimace that's sure to be on his face. Tentatively, you crack the door open. There Miguel is, face knitted with worry.

There's a flash of confusion at the scene, and then, what you think is relief. Relief you haven't cracked your head open, most likely: the blood would be hard to clean from the grout. You feel guilty, as you've probably broken it, or touched something you shouldn't. The shower is still on; sputtering, starting, and it becomes a strange sort of background music to your silent exchange.

"I don't know how to use the shower." You say with a small voice, guiltily.

" No me digas…" No shit, he mutters, face back to the furrowed brow you're starting to become more familiar with. He sighs, easing up. "You hurt?"

You shake your head, and swear you see a small smile on his face. You looked like a waterboarded rat, probably: big watery eyes and shaking with the sudden cold.

A mess , he thinks. But not a bad view.

He's still in workout clothes from his morning run, compression shirt and lazy shorts that hug his ass on; as he turns towards the shower. With some sense of shame, you try not to stare, to not watch the muscles of his back and arms flex as he angles the shower head away from his face. It's not enough that you've embarrassed yourself – twice, in the space of a couple of days – but the fact it was in front of your roommate, who is maybe the most beautiful person you've seen up close. Which, granted, narrows the field; but Miguel is gorgeous, a flash of pink tongue sticking out as he concentrates, wide palms toggling the dial.

"You need to be careful… push it in slightly when you turn the-" You crane your head towards his movements. "Come closer, or you won't see what I'm doing."

You move towards him, half naked and shivering, trying not to buckle with the heat of his body next to yours. This is what you get for not having spoken to a man since your ex: a tight coil at the base of your stomach for someone that you've done nothing but unwittingly terrorise for the past week.

He explains, patient and even-tempered; how to use the shower and you half-zone out to the low tone of his voice. There's no malice, or pomp in his words when there are a million things he could make fun of you for - that Jamie may have made fun of you for. You look up, at the sharp lines of his face, and chew at your lip, deep in thought.

"...and this side is for hot water. Next time, just ask me – instead of almost drowning."

You nod, embarrassed. "Sorry."

"...For what?" He says, softly. "Place is falling apart, anyway. It's not really your fault." You're convinced everything you touch in this house breaks, but with the way he looks at you, you believe him.

"Just ask me, next time." He echoes and makes for the door, stopping to drag his eyes up and down your frame. Oh… oh. You like that, the way he looks at you shamelessly, practically undressing you.

He smiles, amused at your deer-in-headlights expression.

"...I think that's mine."

He nods to the towel wrapped around your body and your eyes bulge out of their sockets. " Fuck , I didn't realise-"

He shrugs, noncommittal.

"...Seems like you need it more than me, anyways."

~~~

It's a rough first couple of days, and then a week, and then two. The rhythm is all off: like the jerky stop and start of an old car. He wakes up early to go on runs at the ass-crack of dawn, and you stay up late to finish papers and assignments. He has a job, you think, darting out at the same time once or twice a week in smart clothing and a backpack. Sometimes, you catch him hunched over a laptop or scribbling something in a beat up old notebook. Maybe, he’s a student - even if he doesn’t seem quite like the fresh-faced 19 year olds you see around campus. Although, you suppose it’s not implausible; you were one of the older people in your classes, after all. It’s hard to imagine O’Hara, stony-faced and serious, at a… dorm party, or something. To be that carefree, he’d need to get rid of that stick up his ass, first.

You’ve got a day off from lectures, using the time to catch up on the reading you should’ve done over a hectic break. The list seems to go on and on, already, this early into the year. Internally, you’ve made a promise to be on top of it all - the little hiccup with Jamie, notwithstanding. You’d knuckle down this morning, reading ( scanning) and summarising ( liberal use of the copy-paste function) in preparation for the rest of the semester. Miguel’s locked up in his room, somewhere, so you use the opportunity to spread out onto the dining table.

There’s a knock at the door that makes you look up from the muddle of words on your screen.

When you open the door, there’s a woman there with a notebook in hand. She’s pretty, in a classic sort of way, ginger braids cropped to her shoulders and lips slathered with gloss. Her outfit is relaxed, but carefully curated: a tight jumper and long brown legs stretching out from a black skirt.

“Hi.” She says, visibly keening. It’s clear she wasn’t expecting you, but she quickly recovers and gives you a blinding smile.

“...Hi,” Honestly, you’re a little confused. You haven’t seen her around the complex before; so who she was, you hadn’t a clue. Too pretty to be a door-to-door salesman, and too hot to try to convert you to Mormonism, you think. Whatever that means.

You wait expectantly, as a beat passes.

“Oh!” She laughs, and it sounds like puppies and rainbows, much too bright and airy considering the time of day. It makes her next words even more of a shock. “I’m looking for Miguel.”

With her last words, she steps a little closer; scanning the apartment from her vantage point. Something in you bubbles up, but you try to choke down the laughter.

“You’re looking for...Miguel?” Even out of your own mouth, it sounds absurd . The man had no friends, as far as you could tell. He seemed like the type to lock himself away in his enclosure, only stepping out for work, school, the bare minimum. In the short week that’s passed, his ‘enrichment time’ had consisted of a dry documentary on spider mating cycles - which had been a shock to walk into, the first time.

So someone here, at the apartment? Looking for him? Fidgeting, you scratch at your neck. “Uhh, I ca-”

“Sorry about that, Jia. You can have a seat.” His voice comes from behind you, and Jia breezes into the apartment, perching on the sofa. Legs crossed, she reaches into her bag, taking out a laptop and a pen and paper. He’s changed out of his workout clothes, donned in a loose white sweater and casual trousers - relaxed, for once. With a limp thud, you close the door. There’s an odd feeling as you look around at the scene: tension, and you feel like you’re interrupting. Miguel clatters around in the kitchen, fumbling for mugs and coffee filters and God knows what else.

“...was it two sugars, or three?”

“Three!” She throws over her shoulder, tapping away at her open laptop. “I like it sweet, Miguel.”

You squint. He laughs : a small chuckle that comes with a heat at the base of your stomach. Your head almost aches, trying to recalibrate; reconcile with the version of the person you’ve barely seen around the apartment to now - present, engaged, and personable. Exasperated is the only word for it. Miguel O’Hara was, in fact, capable of joy. Dickhead.

He barely acknowledges you, but Jia does; batting her wispy eyelashes in your direction, curious. The tapping stops, and she curls the corner of her mouth up with a hint of a smile.

“You gonna introduce me?” She calls out to Miguel, and then smiles to you; warm and genuine. It makes you feel a little more at ease. You catch the end of a sigh coming from the kitchen.

“Jia, this is my roommate.” He glances up to gesture towards you. “...this is Jia. I… help her out with work, sometimes.”

From the couch, she rolls her eyes. “He’s too modest. He’s my tutor, technically.”

With that, your eyebrows shoot up. Of everything you’d imagined him doing, tutoring students wasn’t one of them - especially considering he seemed barely out of college himself.

“...Technically?”

“He doesn’t like to advertise it, because he’s picky with his clientele.” She giggles and he scoffs. You get the feeling there’s a joke flying over your head, just out of reach. “Word gets out on campus that Miguel’s tutoring again…”

“ Vale, vale ,” He grumbles, but his tone is good-natured and light. “S’enough, Jia.”

She gives you a wink, before turning towards her work.

You walk towards your things, still on the dining table. He’s got his head buried in a kitchen cabinet and you look on, wanting to ask a lot of things. The words seem to die in your throat: too big, too small, not the right shape. She's a stranger; that knows where the coffee’s kept and the best spot on the couch. That makes Miguel laugh . You want to ask him about the stranger in your home; but you’re too scared he’d turn and point the finger at you.

He walks to the couch, balancing two cups of coffee. You look back. Next to him, her presence is an oddity - a blip in his carefully crafted universe. With the warm sheen of familiarity, she nudges his shoulder. Taking careful sips, he pointedly ignores her, tapping a finger at her screen - as if to say, pay attention. She smiles, wide; an asteroid across the depths of space, dazzling and brilliant in the night sky.

The exchange… it makes you think. If Miguel is the Sun, and Jia, a bright body in orbit: what’s your place in this four-walled cosmos? Where do you belong?

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