#—much less stress in that department than before

[noramoons]

i live

[starryhyuck]

pairing: prideandprejudice!jeno x afab!reader

words: 17.8k+

summary: lee jeno is the furthest idea of a possible suitor in your mind. yet somehow, fate continues to pair you together.

genre: fluff, angst, smut

warnings: loss of virginity, cunnilingus, penetrative sex, creampie, slight breeding kink

this is basically pride & prejudice (2005)

“You are behaving foolishly,” you comment as Minji runs around the room, encouraging your headache to grow. Jimin exhales from her spot next to you, hands folded in her lap like one of those formal ladies you used to make fun of when you were younger.

“Minji, please sit,” Jimin sighs exasperatedly. Minjeong giggles from her position on the opposite couch, slouching even though she’s not meant to look so unseemly.

Minji finally takes her seat and rolls her eyes at Jimin. “Sister, you must feel some ounce of joy. It’s our first time at a ball!”

It was true — your family had been all but shunned from any formal engagements due to your lack of wealth, but lately, your father has climbed up the ranks and gotten respect from some of the rich parties across town. His hard work resulted in you and your sisters being invited to your first ball, an elite event made up of high society members.

Your mother took this as a sign of a wedding on the horizon since none of your sisters have received formal proposals yet despite being of age. Minji is overjoyed, Jimin is stressing out, and Minjeong is displeased with the situation at hand. Minjeong has always been proud of your family, regardless of status, and she hates the social climbers that migrated around these parties.

You’re indifferent to tonight’s events, willing to tag along to whatever boisterous adventures you find.

Your mother comes frantically into the room just as Minji has finally calmed herself down, hair tied messily on top of her head and corset barely laced up.

“Girls, we must leave soon!” She declares, stroking her fingers through Minjeong’s hair to perfect it.

“Mother, you look unkempt,” Jimin scolds, standing from her spot to finish lacing up your mother’s corset and taming her unruly hair. Your mother profusely apologizes before shooing her away.

“This night is not about me. It’s about you girls. Now remember, Mr. Lee and Mr. Na will both be in attendance. They come from very affluent families, and it would be in your best interest to invest your time into them as they are the most desired bachelors of the season.”

Minjeong scoffs. “Mother, I highly doubt entertaining these men who deny our self-worth is in our best interest.”

Your mother’s mouth opens to scold Minjeong until the click of your father’s shoes come padding down the hall. In his old age, your father traditionally expects all of you to be married off before he passes. Otherwise, the estate transfers over to your cousin, Nakamoto Yuta, who has always been less than kind to your family. You know he would wed you and your sisters off to the first men he comes across just to keep your family’s earnings for himself.

“Are we ready to depart?” Your father asks, smiling proudly in his formal wear. All of your sisters rise from their seats, with Minji nearly jumping out of hers and Minjeong being heavily prodded by your mother.

It’s a long ride to the ball with your family’s estate being located further away from higher society. You and Minji play games on the journey as Minjeong sleeps and Jimin frets over what to say when you arrive.

Jimin has always been the more responsible one out of your sisters, and you understand she has a heavier burden on her shoulders to be married first. Luckily with you being one year younger, there wasn’t as much of an expectation for you to be wed so fast.

The arrival of your family is greeted with a hesitant welcome, most of the men smiling at your father and the women analyzing your sisters and your mother. You grip Minjeong’s arm for dear life, feeling a little more hesitant about the experience now that you have stepped foot on the grounds.

“This is absurd,” Minjeong whispers in your ear as you enter the expansive ballroom. People are gathered in some of their most formal outerwear with music echoing around the dance floor.

“Would you not enjoy a dance?” You ask your sister, heels clacking against the wood floors as you scurry your way through the crowd. You imagine dancing would be quite nice — you and your siblings have spent nights practicing in your rooms, hands joining together as you pretend that you all are actually on the dance floor. Tonight would be perfect to bring those memories to life, but Minjeong doesn’t seem very fond of the idea.

“Have you forgotten that we are not allowed to dance with one another? We must find a partner,” she reminds you, and your eyes flutter around the room to see the prospects.

You’ve seen most of these men in passing, like Lee Taeyong or Lee Mark. You have heard that the brothers are kinder than their appearance might make them seem and perhaps they would entertain you with a spin on the floor.

You suddenly feel Minji grip your arm and she squeals in your ear. “There they are! Lee Jeno and Na Jaemin!”

Your eyes turn to the entrance, where the men of the night are starting to flock in. Lee Jeno, a known affluent man, owns one of the largest estates in the country and has been one of the most desired bachelors for years now. His friend, Na Jaemin, has just moved to the country, making this ball his first public appearance. Similar to Jeno, Jaemin owns multiple estates with an abundant fortune sitting in his bank.

In this world, they are a girl’s one way ticket to safety.

You see Jimin’s back straighten in anticipation, and you know she has her eyes set on Jaemin.

Your mother approaches your side, squeezing your arm. “Behave now, girls.”

Your family gathers to present yourselves in front of Jeno and Jaemin, bowing and curtsying in respect. Jeno simply appears bored, eyes scanning the room in an air of confidence and arrogance. Jaemin immediately smiles at Jimin, who grows slightly bashful under his gaze.

“Mr. Na, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” your father greets first, shaking Jaemin’s hand with fervor.

“You as well, sir. I’m taken by the people’s hospitality to my arrival,” Jaemin remarks.

“It’s rare we get a new face in this town,” your mother replies happily. “And such a handsome one at that.”

Jaemin’s smile is blinding, basking in the compliments and attention. Jeno, on the other hand, looks like he wants to leave and never return.

The music suddenly changes to the tempo of the traditional dance, and Jaemin asks Jimin to join him on the floor. Your sister shyly accepts and you hear both your mother and Minji squeal to one another. Minjeong rolls her eyes and informs you she’s going to find some refreshments for herself.

She leaves you with Jeno, who still appears stiff and unapproachable. You decide to take the first leap into conversation.

“Do you like to dance, Mr. Lee?”

He blinks once, scanning you before answering. “Not if I can help it.”

You’re deterred by his answer until Minji tugs you forward, nudging you to join her on the dance floor. You’re paired with Taeyong, who politely bows to you.

You feel a pair of eyes follow you while you maneuver around bodies of the elite, and your mind lingers on the disdainful presence of Lee Jeno.

Once the music subsides, you take another politeful curtsy to Taeyong before sweeping the room for your fellow companion, An Yujin. Yujin, like your family, was not born into wealth and struggles in society as you do. However, because of her charisma, she is able to sneak her way into parties by charming some of the men for an invitation. You spot her in between a few other guests and eagerly pull her away.

“You did not tell me you were coming!” She exclaims, wrapping you up in a hug.

“We were not informed until earlier this week,” you share, walking along with her as you move your way through the crowd. “Is it not so lovely?”

“Very,” she giggles, her voice turning down when you spot Jeno and Jaemin walking very close to you two. They do not catch sight of you, speaking quietly to one another.

“What a splendid night, so many lovely women,” Jaemin chuckles.

Jeno replies in a bored tone. “You were dancing with the only lovely woman in this room.”

“Yes, she was quite a keeper, was she not?” Jaemin hums, and you and Yujin exchange a look. “I saw you speaking to her sister. She was quite admirable as well.”

Jeno scoffs. “Admirable? Barely tolerable, I would say.”

The conversation is cut short when Jaemin’s sister sweeps them away to meet another family. You huff at Jeno’s clear dislike of you and Yujin pats your hand in comfort when they disappear into the crowd.

“What a horrid man,” you comment.

“Do not fret,” Yujin smiles. “If he liked you, you would actually have to speak with him.”

You giggle in agreement. “Yes, imagine having to entertain a man like that.”

“Jimin looks rather happy, though,” Yujin remarks fondly. “She’s thoroughly taken by Mr. Na.”

You gaze over at your sister, who is happily chattering with Minji. “It seems so. I hope mother is taking her bearings and not placing too much pressure upon her shoulders.”

“I think it might be too late for that.”

Your mother has suddenly grouped Minji and Jimin into directly speaking with Jaemin and Jeno. You exchange a look with Yujin before walking over to save your sisters from this debacle. When you step into their circle, you hear Jaemin compliment Jimin’s dancing.

“She is quite the dancer, if I must say.”

“Yes, yes!” Your mother shouts. “She and her sisters practice all the time. My handsome Jimin, you see, is definitely the most well-rounded of all my daughters!”

“Mother!” You scold, trying to stop her as she continues to embarrass your sisters.

However, she ignores your protest and Jimin’s visible contempt. “Jimin’s always had a vast amount of suitors, you know. There was this one bewitching gentleman who I thought would propose to her last spring but alas, all the man did was write a few poems.”

“And that ended it completely,” you cut in, and Jimin throws you a grateful look. “Who ever decided that poetry was a suitable medium to a woman’s heart? Very poor choice, might I say.”

Your statement earns you a few laughs until a haughty voice interrupts.

“So what do you propose?” Jeno retorts, and it’s the most engaged he’s been with you all night. His eyes bore into yours with the most intense observance. “Poetry has been the love language for suitors across all ages. What do you propose is better to take its place?”

You smile mischievously. “Dancing, I believe. Even if one’s partner is barely tolerable.”

Jeno’s face morphs into a mix of understanding and discomfort at your recall. You smirk, offering him another curtsy before vanishing back into the crowd.

You feel the burn of his stare follow you.

—

“Shopping for such a simple piece of clothing must seem so benign, do you not think so?”

“Yes, it quite certainly is,” you reply, tugging Minjeong into a nearby fabric store. “But it is necessary in order to impress the likes of the Na family for Jimin’s best interest.”

You and your sisters have made a trip into town to purchase new dresses for another upcoming ball planned by Jaemin. Since your first encounter with him, he and Jimin have made slow strides into courting one another, and this dance may be an opportunity to make it more official. Therefore, you have taken the role of stringing your family into the best shape to appease high society.

Jimin is already browsing through a variety of pinks and blues, carefully explaining to the seamstress that she has no desire for lavish embellishments to her dress. Although she would never admit her nerves, you can detect it from the way she frantically combs her fingers through her hair.

“Play nice for once,” you say to Minjeong, stroking her arm in consolation. “This could mean wonders for Jimin.”

“I can play nice,” Minjeong agrees hesitantly, pretending to be interested in some of the frilly ribbon decorating the store.

The bell above the door rings, signaling another customer walking in. You all turn to see a gentleman come inside, and you curtsy to greet him.

“My apologies for the intrusion,” he smiles, and you take note how captivating he appears. “It’s pouring out there and I was hoping to take shelter in here.”

“Of course, Mr. Lee,” the seamstress nods, gesturing for him to walk about as he pleases.

His eyes zero in on you. He takes your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles. You bow your head coyly.

“Lee Donghyuck, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Are you ladies also shielding yourselves from the horrid rain?”

You smile and return your hand to your side.

“In contrast, Mr. Lee, we are prolifically finding ourselves a manner of dress for the Na ball,” you share, and his eyes sparkle at your response.

“Ah, I see. It must be an extremely difficult decision for you then.”

You laugh. “Yes, it’s quite the hunt for us.”

Minjeong suddenly reappears next to you. “And what brings you to town this evening, Mr. Lee?”

He offers a nod to your sister. “Some of the men from our militia district are in town for our homecoming. We have gathered into town to see what we all have dearly missed from our time away.”

His eyes flit over to you once more, and you bashfully glance down at your feet.

“I must come and see what beholds the community of this ball,” he states, hands wringing together behind his back. “It looks to be an event of importance.”

As soon as Jimin finds the right fabric for her dress and you review the designs for the rest of your family, Donghyuck offers to walk you all back to your estate. Luckily, the weather clears by the time you finish shopping.

You speak with Donghyuck on the way home, with Minji throwing the two of you suggestive looks as you break off from the others.

“How long are you in town for then?”

“Another fortnight or two, dependent on the weather,” he replies, his shoulder brushing against yours as you stride along.

“It must be pleasant to be back home. I cannot imagine how much you have missed it,” you say, enjoying the warmth of his figure every time his arm presses against yours.

He opens his mouth to respond before Minji’s loud hollers interrupt him.

“Oh, Mr. Na! Mr. Na!”

Minji calls out to Jaemin across the river, who is riding horseback alongside Jeno. Your eyes narrow at Jeno’s appearance, still feeling offended from his malicious comments against you. He, in turn, returns your heated glare but to your surprise, it’s not directed at you. His focus is solely on the man beside you, and you notice how Donghyuck tenses at his presence.

“Mr. Na, we just came from the dress shop to look fitting for your ball!” Minji calls happily.

Jaemin gives a nod, his eyes floating to Jimin.

“I’m happy to hear of it!” He replies.

The conversation is cut short when Jeno suddenly instructs his horse to trot away. You observe his abrupt exit, with Jaemin promising to see your family at the ball before following his friend.

“Very ill-mannered, that one is,” Donghyuck comments, scoffing as Jeno’s figure disappears further and further in the distance.

You begin the trek home again as Minjeong speeds up her pace and Jimin tugs Minji along to keep up. You fall behind in order to uncover the deeper meaning of Donghyuck’s words.

“You seem to have an uncivil assumption of Mr. Lee,” you note to him, and he hums in agreement.

“Mr. Lee and I do not get along well.”

“May I inquire why?”

“I have known Mr. Lee since birth, you see. Our families were very close and I thought of his father as mine and he thought mine as his. When my father passed, I became closer to his own as a result. Eventually, when Jeno’s father grew sickly, he asked that the rights of the Lee estate be passed onto me. At that point, you must imagine, we were closer than he and his son ever were and it drove Jeno wild with jealousy.”

You can visualize Jeno as the epitome of bitterness, envy blazing his form as he watches Donghyuck grow closer to his father. You fail to realize how your bias towards disliking Jeno prevents you from questioning the truthfulness to Donghyuck’s story.

He continues. “After his father passed, Jeno willingly sought my demise by forcing me into the militia and preventing me from inheriting his estate. I hope you can see now why I do not enjoy entertaining his presence.”

“That is purely vengeful,” you say with sympathy, almost wishing to apologize on Jeno’s behalf. “It pains me to think you had to go through such a thing.”

He smiles and shrugs it off.

“It is in the past, and we must look towards the future. I shall be delighted to see you at the ball, miss.”

You curtsy and grin. “You as well, Mr. Lee.”

—

Donghyuck is the first person you search for when you arrive at the Na estate.

You spot Yujin in between bodies, tugging her along in your search. She laughs and follows you as you weave your way through the crowd.

“How handsome is he that has you so besotten?”

“He’s just wonderful, Yujin!” You exclaim passionately. “If you spoke to him as well, you would know!”

You pass by numerous familiar faces, asking them if they have seen Donghyuck lingering around. You disappointingly receive a resounding denial at the sight of his presence.

Jimin calls your name quietly when she approaches you and Yujin in the drawing room.

“I do not believe Mr. Lee is here. It seems he has been sent off.”

You frown. “Sent off? Oh, but he must be here!”

“There you are.”

All three of you jump at the sound of a male voice entering your conversation. You turn to see your cousin, Yuta, staring at you intimidatingly. You curtsy in respect.

“I was wondering if it would please you to join me.”

He gestures to the dance floor and you almost choke.

“Mr. Nakamoto, I did not know you danced.”

If you did not know any better, you would guess Yuta was glaring at you judging by the weight of his stare.

“I do not think it so inappropriate for a gentleman of my status to ask a woman for a dance. As much as I think it is not inappropriate for you to accept.”

You flounder. Your sisters had gossiped a few days ago about Yuta being in search of a wife, but you would have never guessed he had his sights set on you.

You nod timidly, trying your best to ignore Yujin and Jimin’s incredulity. He guides you to the floor and you make your best attempt at taking him seriously.

The dance is almost comical to you, suddenly burdened by Yuta’s intense gaze. He has never shown the slightest interest towards you until now, and his advances only bring you laughter.

As soon as the music ends, you grab Yujin’s arm and pull her away to avoid Yuta’s further questioning. The two of you giggle at the spectacle that just took place.

“Can you believe Mr. Nakamoto just-“

Your voice catches in your throat when you almost collide into someone’s chest. Your eyes drift up to catch the sight of Jeno.

He still has that same bored expression painting his face but you can see a hint of nervousness clouding his eyes.

“May I have the next dance?”

You are slightly startled by the question, but you manage to keep your decorum intact.

“You may.”

He offers you a nod before disappearing into the crowd once more. Yujin squeezes your arm.

“Did you agree to dance with Mr. Lee?”

“For heaven’s sake, I believe I have. I must be going mad, Yujin. He is the man I have sworn to hate,” you gasp.

She shakes you from your trance and guides you back to the dance floor, bringing you face to face with Jeno. He is a lot more restless than usual, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he avoids your gaze.

The dance begins with a respectful curtsy and bow. You begin to move to meet Jeno at the center and remark, “This is a beautiful dance.”

He curtly nods. “Yes, I think so.”

He is rather lucky you’re determined to be on your best behavior or else you would have rolled his eyes at the simple comment. You turn past Kang Seulgi’s figure and meet him again in the middle.

“It is your turn to make conversation, Mr. Lee. Usually, you would compliment the host of the gathering or comment on the people who have attended.”

“Is that so?” He muses, taking slow steps around Lee Mark to circle back to you. You join your hands in the middle and pace quietly to the hum of the violin playing. “Please do tell what invigorating subject you would like for me to focus on.”

You can tell he’s trying to push your buttons and you grit your teeth. “A lady must not lead the conversation so easily, Mr. Lee. It is your job to set the tone.”

You separate to continue the dance, rotating again around Seulgi and Mark’s figures.

“Do you and your sisters go shopping in town often?”

You hesitate, knowing he’s beginning to broach the subject of Donghyuck. You connect in the middle, the bottom of your dress skirting by him.

“Lately yes, we have. We find it a great opportunity to get out and meet new people. In fact, we had just met a lovely man that day you saw us by the river.”

His lips press into a thin line. “Lee Donghyuck is charming, indeed. His ability to win over women’s hearts is quite notable, but it does not fare in comparison to his ability to quickly lose that adoration.”

You bite back, dancing in another circle and attempting to keep your composure. “Yes, and it was so devastating to hear that he has lost that devotion from you. Quite irreversible, is it?”

“Indeed,” he nearly hisses, stopping in the middle to sneer at you. The dance continues but you hold your ground, staring at him with as much anger as you can muster. “Why do you ask such a question?”

“To inquire into your character, Mr. Lee.”

His eyes burn with an unanticipated flame. “And what did you discover?”

“Very little. I hear quite different stories about your character and it baffles me exceptionally.”

“My apologies,” he states, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “I hope to clear your troubled thoughts going forward.”

You both resume the dance, but it somehow feels like the entire room has disappeared. The weight of your words builds the tension and you follow the steps of the dance you know by heart, but your eyes no longer drift to different parts of the room. They stay focused on Jeno, who is equally captured by you.

The two of you speak nothing more until you return to the same spots you started the dance in. The sound of applause jolts you out of your stupor and you take one last look at Jeno, offering him a polite curtsy before exiting the floor.

You’re startled when you nearly run into Yuta again on your way to the drawing room.

He says your name in a rigid tone. “You’re well acquainted with Mr. Lee?”

You almost stutter. “Not very well. I will admit, I’m surprised to see you at such an event, Mr. Nakamoto.”

“Are you? Your mother has brought it up to me on many occasions, especially noting that you would be in attendance.”

You clench a fist behind your back and silently curse your mother.

“Did she? I cannot imagine why she would think that would be of importance to you.”

“I am sure you have heard of my search for a companion to my estate. Lady Park has been stressing the issue and I am not one to avoid her suggestions,” he shares, taking a small step closer to you.

You take a step back. You and your sisters know all about Lady Park — the woman who financially supports Yuta until he gets a hold of your family’s fortune when you and your siblings are married off and your father has passed. She dictates every aspect of Yuta’s life and he must engage in her wishes to ensure his funds are properly taken care of.

“Mr. Nakamoto, I will save you the trouble. I have no desire to be married at this time, so whatever offer my mother promised you cannot be fulfilled on my account.”

He frowns. “Surely, a girl of your age understands the need for a husband in this economy. A comfortable life could save you the misfortune of attending these dances.”

“If you do not mind my candor, I do not believe a comfortable life for me would include you in it. I sincerely hope you are able to find a wife who is best suited to help you run your estate.”

You curtsy for him, ignoring the malicious sneer he throws your way. You scurry into the drawing room, searching for Yujin and finding her near the piano. Minji is playing to her heart’s content and it seems she has been doing so for hours, and your father walks over to tell her to be mindful of other people’s time.

You loop your arm around Yujin’s to get her attention.

“Oh, how was it?” She exclaims enthusiastically as you pull her away. “You did not look so pleased to be in Mr. Lee’s presence from what I could see.”

You huff. “Truly an understatement. And you will not believe the kind of proposal Mr. Nakamoto approached me with.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Do not tell me-“

“I denied it, of course. It would have been a loveless coupling, much to my mother’s chagrin.”

She frowns at your indifference. “You know, you are blissfully lucky to even have such an offer come across you. Your family has only been in high society for a few months yet you have already gotten a marriage proposal from a wealthy suitor.”

“Is that all you heard? A wealthy suitor,” you repeat with a scoff. “Yujin, Mr. Nakamoto has despised my family since Jimin came of age. I would like to think I should get a say in who I marry and not just because he is inheriting my father’s pocket.”

You brush off her continued sorrow over your situation. Your eyes scan the room, seeing your mother hang by the staircase with a glass of wine in her hands, loudly praising Jimin for catching the attention of Jaemin. Jimin, on the other hand, is conversing quietly with him a few feet away, awkwardly tucking her hair behind her ears and avoiding his gaze. Minji is tugging Minjeong along now that she is not berating a crowd with her piano playing, the both of them laughing at some of the guests around them.

“I believe my family is entertaining the masses well enough,” you muse.

She laughs and nods, sweeping your previous conversation about Yuta under the rug.

“The upside is that Mr. Na does not seem to mind,” she says, and the two of you watch him laugh at something Jimin has whispered.

“I think he is quite devoted to her.”

She hums. “But does she return his favor?”

You chuckle. “What are you on about? Of course she does! He’s all she ever thinks about.”

“All I am saying is that having a wonderful man like Mr. Na becoming smitten is a rare chance. However, if Jimin does not outwardly express her intentions, he could be deterred from continuing his advances.”

You shake your head. “She’s just shy, you know that. She is not the type to wear her heart on her sleeve like most other women.”

“But Mr. Na is not well acquainted with that fact. He does not know her as we do. She has to take advantage of his love before the clock runs out.”

You study your sister and her suitor, wondering if Yujin was right.

Your eyes drift over to catch Jeno’s, who is intently watching you from across the room. His hands are folded behind his back and despite the many women surrounding him, he only has his gaze directed at you. You interpret it in the wrong fashion, assuming he has once again taken on a mission to taunt you.

You hold your head high, hauling Yujin to the next room and disregarding the irritating presence of Lee Jeno.

—

It is weeks later when your family catches news that Jaemin is leaving the city.

Jimin is utterly distraught, ostracizing herself in her room while your mother frantically runs around the house, insisting the news cannot be true. You hesitantly approach Jimin as she is crying on her bed, curled up with her face stuffed in her pillow. You brush back her hair and sigh.

“Mr. Na is an idiot for leaving without proposing to you,” you say, trying your best to comfort her. “All of us could see he was so taken with you. I am sure he will return soon and bring you with him.”

“Do not bother,” she sniffles, wiping the tears falling down her cheeks. “I knew I could never be an acceptable fit for him. He saw our family and ran for the hills.”

“Stop putting yourself below him,” you scold. “You were a very acceptable match for him and it is his fault if he could not see how uniquely extraordinary you are. He will learn his regret soon.”

You leave her to wallow in her sadness, telling your mother to stop her fussing and leave Jimin alone. You catch some fresh air outside, basking in the sunlight before you hear the crunch of leaves from behind you.

You barely register Yujin’s form until she’s tackling you in a hug. You gasp and lock your arms tight around her.

“What on earth are you doing here?” You laugh, and she gives you another squeeze before pulling away. You take in the anxiety clouding her face.

“I have come to tell you the joyful news — Mr. Nakamoto and I are engaged.”

You take a step back, astonished by the reveal. You blink rapidly and stutter. “E-Engaged? To be wed?”

“Of course, silly. What other kind of engaged is there?” She drinks in your nauseated expression and sighs. “Do not give me that. You should be perfectly happy for me.”

“But he is ridiculous! And so much older than you. Yujin, you cannot possibly-“

“Yes, I can,” she replies in a stern tone. “Not all of us can afford to have choices. He is offering me a comfortable life and a beautiful home. And now, your family will no longer have to worry that some tyrant will swoop in and steal your father’s earnings.”

“But Yujin-“

She continues. “My father is very close to losing his job and my family is in danger of falling from high society. I do not have many prospects, and I am very thankful that Mr. Nakamoto approached me. I am terribly frightened, do you not see? So please, do not judge me.”

You embrace her. “I apologize, I did not realize how tough it must have been for you.”

She shakily returns your affection. “Promise me you will come visit when you can? Lady Park has a wonderful cottage that we will be staying in when we are married.”

You nod. “I most certainly will. I have to ensure you are being taken care of properly.”

She giggles. “I will miss you.”

After a tearful goodbye, you watch Yujin’s figure disappear into the horizon and return home. You feel a plethora of emotions swirling around your head from Yujin’s future — mainly concern but also a feeling of happiness for her safety. As much as you were not fond of Yuta, you know he would still treat her with respect.

You are taken aback when you enter your home to see your mother with a handful of garments in her arms. She rushes up the stairs with Minji following closely behind. You fume when you see her entering Jimin’s room.

“Mother, I told you to leave Jimin well enough alone!”

You ascend the staircase and follow them, confused when you see a suitcase splayed out on Jimin’s bed as your mother stuffs clothing into it as fast as she can.

“Oh, there you are!” Your mother exclaims at the sight of you. “Come here and help Jimin pack for her trip. Where in heavens did you disappear to?”

Your eldest sister is now up on her feet, looking slightly more lively. Minji is eagerly folding dresses for her.

You speak slowly. “I was out speaking with Yujin. She is betrothed to Mr. Nakamoto.”

They all pause at the news. Your mother is the most engaged, furious by the revelation.

“I told you! Mr. Nakamoto is a reputable man who could have brought you wonderful children.” You wince at the thought. “You should have accepted his proposal when he offered!”

“Oh mother,” Jimin interjects, coming to your defense. “The man did not even have the decency to ask father for permission.”

“What exactly are we packing for?” You ask, desperate to move the topic of conversation far from you.

Your mother immediately brightens, forgetting about nagging you for a second. “Jimin is going out of the city to stay with your aunt and uncle! She will remain for a visit until Mr. Na sees the error of his ways.”

You frown, approaching them as they continue to pack Jimin’s belongings.

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Of course it’s what she wants!”

You and Jimin ignore your mother’s enthusiasm. She nods at you, smiling softly.

“I think so. No, no, I believe so. I want to fight for him.”

You smile at the sparkle of determination in your sister’s eye. You happily help her fold the rest of her belongings.

Your mother has already called the carriage, with Minjeong holding the door open with a disinterested look on her face. Jimin envelops her in a hug as she passes and you see Minjeong’s hardened expression melt a little.

You all help Jimin into the carriage and wave her off, praying to the heavens that Na Jaemin will offer her a second chance.

—

You breathe in the smell of the quaint countryside, laughing when Yujin comes bursting out the front door of her cottage and embraces you tightly.

“I cannot believe you are finally here! I have waited so long for your arrival,” she says.

“I am delighted the weather was favorable enough for the trip,” you murmur, pulling away and smiling softly. “This is a lovely home, Yujin.”

“Oh please, you flatter me so. You have not yet seen the inside!”

She pulls you through the door, and you drink in the sight of the living room. It feels warm and cozy, which is exactly what you would expect from a home decorated by your friend.

Yuta comes walking down the long hallway, eyeing you.

“I see you have made a successful trip here.”

You curtsy. “Yes, Mr. Nakamoto. I am honored that you and Yujin have allowed me to stay for a short period.”

“You know you can stay for as long as you like!” Yujin exclaims. “I have missed your company a great many.”

She guides you into the room where you will take your stay. She helps you unpack your luggage, admiring the new dresses you have acquired in her absence.

“And how is Jimin? I was curious to know of her whereabouts since the last letter of yours arrived.”

You sigh. “It has been months since she left to stay with our aunt and uncle. No progress has been made for her and Mr. Na, and I fear for her heartbreak when she returns to us.”

Yujin frowns. “How dreadful. I do hope she is able to win his affections before it is too late.”

“Whatever the case may be, Mr. Na has surely lost a beautiful bride.”

She hums in agreement.

Yuta interrupts your conversation hours later, rushing into your room with a delighted expression.

“Yujin! Lady Park has asked us to come to supper,” he declares.

Yujin stands from her spot on your bed, clapping her hands in excitement.

“Oh, wonderful! That is absolutely delightful.” She turns to you, gripping your elbows. “You must come with us. Lady Park would be overjoyed to meet you.”

“O-Oh,” you stutter, unsure of what to say. “I haven’t got much to wear.”

Yuta brushes off your concern. “Lady Park is not averse to your manner of dress. Simply put on your best and you can accompany us.”

You join Yujin and Yuta that evening to meet Lady Park at her grand estate, which is merely a few miles away from their cottage. You hold your breath as you enter the grand drawing room, where Lady Park sits with her daughter, Chaeyoung.

You curtsy in respect alongside Yujin, and Lady Park eyes you warily.

“We are honored you have asked us to dine with you tonight, Lady Park,” Yujin says, hands folded neatly above her stomach.

You are about to voice your agreement until a creak in the hardwood distracts you. Your eyes flutter over to the doorway to catch the sight of Jeno entering.

“Mr. Lee,” you murmur in surprise. “I did not expect to see you here.”

The familiar burn of his stare welcomes you. He bows his head and you return the favor.

He says your name, and you feel a rush travel down your spine. You have not heard him speak since the night of the dance.

“I am a guest here,” he explains simply.

Lady Park stands from her seat on the chaise lounge.

“You are familiar with my nephew?”

You digest the information, storing away the fact that Yuta never mentioned Jeno was related to Lady Park.

“Yes, I had the privilege of meeting your nephew a few months ago, ma’am.”

You hear Jeno almost scoff at the suggestion of your encounter being anything but dreadful. You clench your fists behind your back to prevent an outburst.

“And this is my cousin,” Jeno introduces, stepping aside to allow another man to come into your line of vision. He smiles and bows. “Park Jisung.”

You pay your courtesy and Lady Park instructs the group to gather in the dining room for supper. You take a spot next to Jisung and across from Yujin.

Before you can get comfortable, Lady Park scolds Yuta. “Mr. Nakamoto, you cannot sit next to your wife and only converse with her. Switch with our guest.”

You awkwardly switch places with Yuta, now sitting next to Yujin and Jeno. Your shoulder brushes by his, and he instinctively leans closer to you. Your breath hitches slightly at the proximity.

With the seating arrangements in order, you all take your seats and begin dining into the feast.

Jeno clears his throat. “Has your family been faring well?”

It takes a moment for you to register that he is speaking to you. You glance at him, only to find him engrossed in his meal.

“They have been doing well, all things considered,” you reply. You cannot help but prod him for answers. “Jimin has actually gone to stay with our aunt and uncle, close to where Mr. Na is staying. Perhaps you have seen her.”

He looks at you. “I have not had the pleasure, no.”

You purse your lips. “What a shame. I know she would be delighted to have your company.”

He hums. “Is that so? Is she the only one who would enjoy my companionship at this time?”

Your mouth hangs open in surprise at his confidence. A sliver of his true personality shows, with the corner of his lips threatening to lift.

Lady Park interrupts your exchange as she calls your name.

“Do you play the piano?”

You shake your head, trying to disregard that Lee Jeno’s character seems to be more than that of a boring nobleman. “Not very well, ma’am. I’m afraid that is a talent reserved for my youngest sister.”

“And your sisters — how many of you are out in society?”

You smile as politely as you can. “All of us, ma’am.”

Lady Park is shocked by the revelation. “All of you? All at once? The youngest being out before the oldest ones are married? Why, that is unheard of.”

“I should not think to burden my younger sisters simply because the oldest ones are not yet wed. They deserve to have their fair share of enjoyment,” you voice, ignoring her continued surprise by your candor.

“You have a lot of opinions for a girl so young and still not in charge of her own household,” Lady Park sighs. “It would do you well to hold your tongue.”

Your fingers tighten around your spoon but you’re amazed when Jeno speaks up.

“I think she is very gifted for her age, considering her family was not born in the faces of high society. I do not think playing the piano would truly showcase the talent she encompasses.”

Lady Park’s lips dissolve into a thin line at her nephew’s impudence. You swallow the jarring emotions you feel at Jeno’s blatant defense of you.

“Well, I must be carrying the customs of my time then. However, I shall hear you play a piece for us after supper.”

“Ma’am, I stress to you that I do not lie when I say I play the piano poorly-“

Yuta hisses your name across the table, throwing you a stern glance. Yujin has a pleading look painting her own features.

“She would be happy to play for you,” Yuta says firmly, with no room for argument.

You swallow your dispute, looking back down at your bowl of soup as Lady Park scolds her daughter for her poor posture. In the corner of your eye, you see Jeno’s hand twitch.

Your head raises and you catch his stare — his eyes no longer holding the small glimmer of amusement you caught earlier.

The last thing you want is for Lee Jeno to feel sorry for you, so you return to finishing your meal, brushing off his concern.

After dinner, you go back to the drawing room and hesitantly take a seat at the grand piano in the corner of the room.

Your fingers clumsily press down on the keys, playing an off-tune version of the last piece you memorized. The group continues to chatter behind you as Lady Park invites Yujin to come visit whenever she pleases. Jeno slowly approaches you and you shake your head.

“There is no need to point out my terrible sense of musical inclination, Mr. Lee. It is a flaw I’m very well acquainted with.”

“I had no intention to do so,” he replies. “And no gentleman would ever raise attention to a fault a woman believes she has, even if he disagrees with her.”

You stop playing briefly to look up at him. He’s already staring back at you, his eyes now conveying an emotion you cannot recognize. You wonder what you would find if you peeled back a few layers of his hard exterior.

Jisung draws near, his hand cupping Jeno’s shoulder with familiarity.

“You must tell me how my dear cousin behaved when he was in your town.”

You laugh under your breath. “I must disappoint you, Mr. Park, as your cousin was very indifferent during his stay. Despite the many women begging for a dance and the lack of suitors on the floor, Mr. Lee still insisted on keeping to himself and refusing to make conversation with others.”

Jisung chuckles. “Truth be told, that sounds very akin to the cousin I know. I have never seen him dance with another woman willingly.”

You pause, remembering how Jeno asked you to dance the night of Jaemin’s ball. You recall how nervous he looked when he faced you, almost as if he was jumping out of his socks.

Jeno clenches his jaw. “Well, dear cousin, I am sure you understand how difficult it is for me to gab about with people I’m not familiar with. Dances are not something I take pleasure in.”

You interject. “Even if it is a woman’s choice of love language? A way you can show her your affection?”

The corner of his mouth twitches as he catches on to what you’re referring to.

“Perhaps then, there could be an exception.”

Lady Park admonishes you for not playing as instructed and you return to the piano, paying no heed to Jeno’s presence for the rest of the evening.

—

Your hand aches as you finish writing your letter to Jimin, sealing the envelope carefully.

You are anxious by the state of your sister’s duress, as it seems Mr. Na has still not come to visit her. Jimin is growing more and more disappointed by the day, feeling as if she has burdened your family with this ridiculous adventure. You wish you could see her and tell her that she would never be a burden to you, but writing a letter is the only communication you can give to her at this time while you continue your stay with Yujin and Yuta.

Just as you place the envelope back down on the table in your room, the door swings open.

You’re startled when Jeno walks through the door, his eyes frantic.

“Mr. Lee,” you say, failing to hide the surprise in your voice as you stand.

You both pay your respects and you wait for him to explain the meaning of his visit, as it has been a week since you saw him at Lady Park’s dinner festivities. However, the words seem to be caught in his throat because he says nothing to you, opening and closing his mouth furiously.

“Mr. and Mrs. Nakamoto went to the village,” you bring up, pondering if that was the reason he was here.

“Yes,” he clears his throat, fiddling with the sleeves of his coat. “Yes, it is a nice day to go to the village.”

You nod, still trying to decipher the reason why he’s here with no notice.

“This- This is a beautiful home,” he notes, bouncing from one foot to another.

It is the most disheveled you have ever seen him.

“Yes, I think so as well. Should I fetch us some tea?”

He immediately shakes his head. “No, no.”

You sit in an unpleasant silence for another few moments before you hear the front door open, signaling Yujin and Yuta’s return.

“Have a good day,” Jeno quickly says, walking swiftly down the hallway and out the cottage, not even bothering to acknowledge Yujin’s presence when he passes by.

Yujin stares incredulously after him, eyes darting over to you.

“What on earth have you done to poor Mr. Lee?”

You shake your head, puzzled by the odd interaction.

“I have no idea.”

—

“There are many conveniences which others may supply and which we cannot procure for ourselves…”

You fight the yawn threatening to come out as Yuta drones on in his sermon. One of the downsides of staying with Yujin and Yuta was the weekly attendance at the local church, where Yuta often read verses for the people. Yujin is always enthralled by her husband’s lectures, but you do not share her level of enthusiasm.

You lean over to whisper to Jisung, who is seated next to you.

“How much longer will you be in town, Mr. Park?”

“As long as my cousin needs,” he answers. “I am at his disposal.”

You scoff, imagining exactly how many people Jeno had at his disposal.

“I wonder why he does not marry so he can bring a woman alongside him instead of dragging you,” you quip.

Jisung laughs quietly. “If he did choose a woman, she would be very lucky. Jeno is a loyal man to both friends and family alike. I heard he recently helped save a friend from an unwise marriage.”

You frown. “Who was the friend?”

“One of his closest companions, Na Jaemin.”

Your features twist into a scowl, and you spot Jeno sitting across the church. Your chest fills with an indescribable rage.

“Did he explain why?” You ask Jisung.

“There were a lot of objections to the lady. I believe her family was not considered to be the right fit for a nobleman of his status.”

You could nearly feel the steam coming out of your ears. So this was the truth — Jeno found your family completely unruly and unfit for his standards and in return, he cut off Jimin’s chance of finding love. All of the pieces click into place and you clench your fists, wondering who gave him the right to dictate the fate of your family.

As soon as the sermon ends, you find the quickest exit, refusing to wait for Yujin and Yuta. You decide you must get back to their cottage to write to Jimin, insisting she come home and end her useless pining after Jaemin.

You gasp when you realize it’s raining, the heavy downpour soaking your dress. You waste no time, running as fast as you can until the church is no longer in sight.

After a mile, you see a nearby gazebo and decide to take shelter there to catch your breath. You place a hand on your chest, staring down at the hem of your dress, which is now covered in mud and dirt.

The call of your name causes you to gasp, and you look up to find the main character of your distress.

Jeno is also completely soaked from head to toe and offers you no time to say a word. “I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer. These past few months have been a torment. I came here with the sole purpose of seeing you and I must tell you how I am feeling. I am fighting against my family’s expectation and the inferiority of your birth because I am asking you to end my agony.”

You shake your head. “I do not understand-“

“I love you,” he confesses. You freeze, appalled by the revelation. “Most ardently. Please do me the honor by accepting my hand.”

You grit your teeth. “I apologize, Mr. Lee, for having caused you pain since our first meeting. I assure you it was not my intention.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Is this your reply?”

“Yes.”

“So it is a rejection?”

“Yes.”

He swallows. “May I ask why you are so quick to voice your refusal?”

You laugh. “Then may I ask why you think it is so brave of you to confess your love for me against your better judgment? I must be so uncouth for you to hold onto your feelings for so long instead of speaking them to me!”

“I did not mean-“

“And I am frankly horrified to think that you believe me to have no dignity that I would accept the hand in marriage of a man who has ruined the fate of my eldest sister, whom I admire with all of my heart!”

His expression falls at the mention of Jimin, and you laugh mockingly at catching his lie.

“Do you deny it, Mr. Lee? Breaking up a young couple in the height of their affection and forcing my sister to question her self-worth?”

“I do not deny it,” he replies sternly.

“What gave you the right-“

“I watched them out of respect for my friend and realized his attachment was deeper than hers,” he explains, but it only causes you to grow angrier.

“She’s shy! She has never been courted so seriously by another man before, especially not one that became so public,” you vouch for her.

He stands his ground. “Jaemin had realized she was not returning his affection with the same amount of passion-“

“Only after you suggested it!”

“I did it for his own good!”

“My sister rarely shows her true feelings to me,” you yell, and Jeno is taken aback. “You will never understand the burden an eldest sister has to face when there are no sons born to the family. You will never understand the weight on her shoulders when Mr. Nakamoto is knocking on the door, waiting to take away what little fortune your family possesses!”

He continues to defend himself. “There was a call into the character of your family and the suggestion of an advantageous marriage-“

You sneer. “How dare you assume Jimin would pursue such a thing!”

“It was not her, but your mother, on the other hand-“

You taunt him. “And what of Lee Donghyuck?”

He narrows his eyes and takes a step closer to you. “Lee Donghyuck?” He speaks the name as if someone poured acid on his tongue.

“What excuse could you possibly conjure of your behavior towards him?”

He purses his lips. “You take a great deal of interest in Donghyuck.”

“How can you defend the misfortunes you have put him in?”

He smiles mockingly. “Ah yes, I’m sure his misfortunes are vast in comparison to mine. I see that this is how you view me — a horrible villain who casts a dark shadow wherever he goes.”

“You are the one who has decided to insult the inferiority of my birth, which is beyond my own control! That arrogance and selfish disdain for the feelings of others is why I believe you are the last man in the world I would ever consider to marry!”

His expression crumbles. It is only now that you recognize how short the proximity between you two has gotten. He seems to have grasped the situation as well, eyes flickering downwards to stare at your lips. You swear that he begins to lean in before he stops himself.

You think you would let him kiss you, despite all signs pointing to it being a bad idea. The desire building in your stomach has you questioning your common sense.

There is no possible way you want Lee Jeno to kiss you, to mark you as his, to marry you in front of all those presumptuous nobles like Lady Park-

“Forgive me for taking up so much of your time.”

He turns and walks away, leaving you panting with a gaping hole in your chest.

—

Days pass before you hear from Jeno.

You contemplate returning home, but Yujin convinces you to stay for a little while longer. You write out a letter to Jimin to tell her everything, but for some reason, you never send it. You fear the gruesome picture you will paint of Jeno and consequently, Jimin’s feelings towards him. You somehow care for your sister’s approval for the rich nobleman although you turned down his proposal.

It’s another dreary night when Jeno shakes the cottage with his presence. You hear his blazing footsteps behind you but you refuse to look at him, staring at the wall in your room with your back turned to him.

He clears his throat. “I came to drop off this.”

You do not know what he has left, ignoring the miniscule part of your brain that screams at you to check.

You speculate on what he looks like — was he wearing that dreary trench coat he likes to walk around in? Was he wearing a mask of contempt at his behavior? Did he really mean what he said? Did he really love you?

“I shall not repeat the confessions that were so insulting to you, but if I may, I will address the two offenses you have laid against me,” he says.

You want to see him. You want to see if he has that stricken expression on his face, if he still has a hint of playfulness hidden in his eyes.

But when you turn around, he is gone. You would believe you had imagined him if not for the letter sitting neatly on the windowsill.

You swallow and open it, eyes scanning over his neat penmanship.

My father loved Donghyuck like a son. After his passing, my father left him a generous living, but Donghyuck made it clear that he would not be taking orders. He gambled away his living within weeks and demanded for more money from me, insisting it was what my father would have wanted. I refused, and he severed all acquaintance thereafter. He returned to us last summer in an attempt to court my sister, Jayoon, and convince her to elope with him. My sister is to inherit half of our estate. When it was made clear Donghyuck would not be receiving a penny of that inheritance, he disappeared once more. I will not try to explain the depth of Jayoon’s despair.

You gasp, eyes shuffling through the ink in disbelief. You could not comprehend the deceit and maliciousness Donghyuck possessed. The man you met was so poised and charismatic, but you suppose all the best con men were.

As for the matter of your sister and Jaemin, though the motives which governed me may to you appear insufficient, they were in the service of a friend.

Yujin’s voice pulls you out of your stupor. She enters your room, carrying a tray of your meal for the night. A worried look crosses her face at the sight of you, and that is when you realize you have started to cry. You wipe the tears falling down your cheeks.

“Are you okay?” Yujin asks, frantically coming over to you.

You hide Jeno’s letter behind your back, clutching onto it for dear life.

“I-I hardly think so.”

She lays her forehead on yours, understanding what you need.

“I believe it’s time for you to return home.”

—

“Honestly, if he passed by me in the street, I would hardly even recognize him.”

You brush off Jimin’s blatant lie and ignore the way she is combing her fingers through her hair as a nervous tick. She frowns at your faint smirk.

“It is true!” She claims, hitting your arm with mischief. “Anyway, what news comes from your visit with Mr. and Mrs. Nakamoto?”

You returned home shortly after Jeno delivered his letter. Yujin was sorrowful to see you go, but she recognized you needed to be with your family, no matter how loud and boisterous they could get. Jimin arrived a day before you, declaring her efforts worthless, much to your mother’s displeasure.

Jimin insists the experience was a pleasant one and that she learned a great many, and you would not dare refute her claims despite the numerous letters you received that say the opposite.

You smile at your sister’s question. “Nothing exciting.”

You had decided to keep the contents of Jeno’s letter for yourself, afraid to admit your blossoming feelings and ignorance at your accusations towards him. Considering Jimin is handling the loss of Jaemin better than expected, you also did not want to burden her with the truth.

The door to the drawing room bursts open and Minji comes parading through, screaming wildly.

“The heavens have truly blessed me!”

You raise an eyebrow at her as she collapses on the lounge, dress flowing across her hips in an improper fashion. Minjeong follows her into the room, looking cross with her hands folded across her chest.

“They are not sending you there because you are a suitable wife, they are sending you there because you are a disgrace to the family!”

“Minjeong!” You scold her, watching as Minji simply laughs at her sister’s insult. “What on earth are you two jabbering about?”

“Father is sending me to live with the Baek family,” Minji divulges, wiggling her feet in excitement.

Jimin stands, outraged by the information. “What? Minji, the Baek family live across town!”

“Yes, and is it not so delightful?” She giggles, ignoring you and Jimin’s worries. “There will be a handful of suitors there at my disposal!”

You and Jimin exchange a knowing glance before heading to your father’s office. He appears to be expecting your arrival, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in anticipation of your anger.

“Father, you cannot send Minji away to the Baek family,” Jimin begins.

You continue. “She will make a fool out of herself and ridicule this family! She needs to be educated properly here, at home.”

Your father sighs. “Girls, you know I have tried with your sister, but she has become too complacent for my teachings. I trust Colonel Baek and his family to educate her about becoming well-behaved.”

“Father!” Jimin yells, utterly displeased. “Minji is not some farm animal you can dispose of as you please! She is part of this family, and her careless behavior is ours to own.”

“You cannot send her away or we might lose her forever.”

Your father shakes his head. “I’m sorry, girls, but my decision has been made. Minji will live with the Baek family and we will pray for success to come her way.”

You both scoff at him, infuriated by his carelessness. You leave his office and travel to the den in the kitchen, where your aunt and uncle are quietly eating. They have decided to stay for a while after dropping off Jimin.

Your aunt calls your name with joy. “Oh, you must join us this time out to the gardens in the district. It would do you well to take in some fresh air.”

You smile politely and take a seat on the bench across from your aunt. Your mind is still whirling at the thought of Minji, all alone, faring for herself at the countryside.

“I am satisfied staying here. I just returned from a trip to see a friend.”

Your uncle waves you off. “Come with us! There are many soldiers stationed in the area and plenty of suitors for your eyes to take in.”

“I have no desire to converse with them, uncle. Men are overtaken by their own arrogance or stupidity, and it would be a waste of my time to entertain them.”

Your aunt laughs mockingly at your pessimistic declaration.

“Well, what a voice of bitterness! My dear, do not allow your opinion of one man to cloud the wonderful soldiers who could bend and worship the ground you walk on,” your aunt advises.

You shake your head in disagreement.

“Men bring nothing but heartache.”

—

Much to your chagrin, your aunt and uncle convince you to travel with them through the district.

You are slightly grateful for their coercion as the breathtaking weather allows you to take a break from your resounding problems, albeit momentarily.

You stop in the middle of the journey as one of the wheels on your carriage is starting to lose its weight, and the coachman requires you to pull over so he can fix it. You lean on one of the nearby trees as your aunt and uncle sit beside you.

“Where exactly are we?” You ask, taking a look at your surroundings, yet all that encompasses you is trees.

“I believe we are close to the Lee estate.”

Your ears perk up. “Lee Jeno?”

“Yes, that’s the fellow,” your uncle murmurs. “I heard his estate is surrounded by a great lake. I have an immense desire to see it for myself.”

“Oh, let’s not,” you immediately object.

Your aunt and uncle turn to you with a raised eyebrow, curious about your swift rejection.

You clear your throat. “I mean, he is awfully busy, I am sure. We would not want to bother him.”

“Do not fret, dear,” your aunt assures. “Great men like him are usually never home.”

You swallow down your further protests, refusing to tell your aunt and uncle the real reason why you cannot see Jeno again.

Once the carriage is fixed, you travel to the Lee estate. As many have vouched, the estate expands beyond your wildest dreams. A large lake covers the entire front yard, with more windows and doors around the house than you could ever conjure up in your mind.

One of the maidens comes out to greet you. Your aunt and uncle are eager to receive a tour and you glance around, picturing the spots where Jeno would walk through, probably dragging that awful trench coat behind him. You giggle at the thought.

“Has something caught your interest, ma’am?” The maiden asks you and you jump, quickly wiping the smile off of your face.

“Oh, no, no. I was simply wondering if Mr. Lee’s sister was home.”

She nods. “Yes, the young girl is likely wrapped up in her piano lesson. You may go search for her while I show your aunt and uncle the gardens if you wish.”

Your aunt touches your arm fondly. “Meet us back at the lodging when you are finished.”

You faintly hear the sound of the piano drift from upstairs, and you follow the noise. You drink in your sights as you go, marveling at the expensive marble columns and gold accents of the house. You ponder over the idea of Jeno choosing the decorations himself.

You finally find the door to one of the drawing rooms, and you open it by a sliver. You catch a glimpse of Jayoon’s long hair with her back turned towards you, her fingers playing a melody as if she had memorized it from birth. You gape at the young girl’s talent.

Your heart beats wildly in your chest when Jeno’s frame comes into view, tapping Jayoon on the shoulder and surprising her. She gasps and jumps into his arms, clearly not expecting his presence.

You make the mistake of moving your foot, which causes the hard flooring to creak beneath your weight. The sound alerts Jeno and his head turns to the entrance of the doorway, where he catches your eye.

You wheeze, quickly spinning around and darting back down the stairs. You must look like a clumsy oaf but you do not care, trying your best at getting as far from the estate as possible. You manage to find yourself outside, but before you can descend down the back entryway, you hear Jeno calling your name.

You squeeze your eyes shut momentarily before slowly facing him.

“I-I apologize, I thought you were out of town.”

He swallows, his once confident stare now filled with nothing but anxiety.

“I came home a day early,” he explains.

He’s wearing that long trench coat again. You wonder if he ever takes it off.

“We wouldn’t have come if we had known you were here-“

“I had some business with my steward-“

You both pause when you realize you’re speaking over one another. His eyes soften at the sight of you.

You avoid his gaze.

“I’m visiting with my aunt and uncle.”

He nods. “And are you having a pleasant trip?”

You blink nervously. “Yes. Tomorrow we are heading to the district before going back home.”

“Tomorrow?” You swear you hear the disappointment in his voice, but it could be a figment of your imagination. “Are you staying nearby?”

You nod and tell him where you’ll be lodging. You place your hand over your chest in an attempt to control your frenzied heartbeat.

“I apologize again for intruding. They said the house was open for visitors and I had no idea you would be home-“

“You’re always welcome here,” he says, his voice filled with honesty. Goosebumps rise on your arms at his frank statement. “Shall I see you into town?”

“No, no,” you object, taking a step back. “I would much prefer to walk. I like to do that — to walk.”

You want to hit yourself over the head. You sound foolish.

Jeno just smiles, laughing to himself. You do not think you have ever seen him this way. Your stomach erupts with butterflies at the sight of his handsome grin.

“Yes, I’m well acquainted with that fact.”

You stare down at your feet, recalling the day you had run nearly three miles in the rain instead of waiting for Yujin and Yuta’s carriage. You’re curious if Jeno had to also run that far just to catch you. Did he catch a cold?

“I shall see myself off then. Goodbye, Mr. Lee.”

You curtsy, refusing to take another glance at him before fleeing the grounds of the estate.

You think about him on your walk back into the village. You envision him as a child, running through the gardens and playing games with the staff. You smile at the thought.

When you find the inn you’ll be staying at for the night, you inform your aunt and uncle of your return before slipping into your room. You decide to freshen up before supper, ridding your mind of any thoughts related to Jeno. You remind yourself that you will likely not see him again, so any of these confusing feelings that are rising need to be squashed.

Your aunt and uncle, however, have a different idea when you join them downstairs.

“My dear, Mr. Lee was just here!”

“What?”

“Yes!” Your uncle is overjoyed. “He invited us to dine with him tomorrow. You don’t mind delaying our journey another day, do you?”

“I-I suppose not.”

An ominous shiver runs down your spine.

—

A lively tune greets you at the Lee estate.

You pause when you see Jayoon playing at the keys with Jeno standing beside the piano to hear her. She stops when she sees you enter the drawing room, jumping up and running over to curtsy before you. She says your name with clear fondness.

You smile and return the curtsy, a little startled by her warmth towards you.

“My sister, Jayoon,” Jeno introduces, walking over. Your breath hitches at his presence.

“My brother has told me so much about you,” Jayoon beams. Your eyes flit to Jeno’s frame, and his head is bowed slightly in embarrassment. “I feel as if we are friends already.”

“It is an honor to finally meet you,” you say. “You play the piano beautifully.”

She bashfully stares down at her feet. “You flatter me so. My brother tells me you’re an exceptional player as well.”

You laugh. “Then he has uttered the most ridiculous lie.”

Jeno chuckles, staring yearningly at you.

“To be fair, I said you were a good player.”

“Ah, well good is not quite exceptional, now is it?”

He smiles at your jest. You both fail to notice how long you have been gazing at one another until Jayoon clears her throat. You divert your eyes and Jeno ignores how red his ears have gotten.

He addresses your aunt and uncle, who are standing behind you.

“I have heard your uncle is fond of fishing.”

“Yes, very much so,” your uncle replies with elation.

“I would be honored if you joined me out on the lake today,” Jeno invites, and your uncle nearly jumps for joy.

“And what about you?” Jayoon asks. “Do you play duets on the piano?”

You chuckle. “Not if I can help it.”

“Oh, brother, you must make her!” Jayoon says playfully.

Jeno looks at you. “She has quite the independent mind, dear sister. I am afraid I cannot make her do anything she does not wish.”

You do not return his stare, fearing you’ll get lost in his eyes.

Jeno and your uncle head to the lake to begin their fishing session while you and your aunt stay with Jayoon to chat and play the piano. You’re in the midst of drinking tea when Jayoon says something that nearly causes you to choke.

“My brother talks of you quite a lot,” Jayoon reveals with a knowing smile. Your aunt’s eyebrow ticks up. “He says you are different from the noblewomen we usually conversate with.”

“Yes, that sounds like something he would say,” you murmur, refusing to peer over at your aunt, who you know has a million questions to bombard you with. “I do not believe your brother chats with many noblewomen to begin with.”

Jayoon giggles. “You would fare on the correct side in relation to that guess. I have desired for him to find a lifelong partner but there has been no one who has peaked his interest until recently.”

You fiddle with your teacup, ignoring Jayoon’s smirk.

Your aunt’s puzzled tone speaks first. “How long has Mr. Lee been acquainted with my niece?”

“A few months only,” you answer before Jayoon can say something else that would embarrass you. “We met when Mr. Na first came into town.”

“Ah yes,” your aunt sighs, very familiar with Jaemin considering Jimin stayed in her home for weeks to capture his attention. “Does Mr. Na come to visit here often, Jayoon?”

She shakes her head. “Not as much lately. I believe he has been preoccupied for most of the season.”

Your aunt grumbles under her breath. You’re pleased by her disdain for Jaemin, understanding how tough this time has been for Jimin.

A maiden suddenly knocks on the door and Jayoon instructs her to enter. She says she has a letter for you and you furrow your eyebrows, taking the envelope from her hands. You recognize Jimin’s handwriting and rip open the letter immediately.

You gasp when you read its contents, placing Jayoon and your aunt on high alert.

“What is it, dear? What’s happened?”

You clutch your chest, heaving. “W-We must return home! At once!”

The two women try to stop you but you sprint out of the house and onto the lake, calling for your uncle with the most desperate voice you can muster. Jeno spots you first, quickly dropping his fishing rod and rushing over to you.

“What’s wrong? Are you injured?”

He clutches your elbows, scanning your figure for any visible wounds. You cannot stop the tears flowing down your face, your mind too overtaken with fear to think about how close Jeno is.

“It’s Minji,” you cry. “S-She has run away! With Lee Donghyuck!”

You crumble and he wraps his arms around you. Your uncle hurriedly comes to your side.

“What? When has this happened?”

“I do not know,” you choke back on your tears as Jeno gently wipes them away. “They do not know where she has gone! She has no money, no connections, no future!”

“This is my fault,” Jeno whispers. “I should have exposed Donghyuck.”

Your uncle gently takes the letter from your fingers, reading the words for himself. You hear Jayoon and your aunt approach, catching their breath from chasing you.

“What is it? What has her so enervated?” Your aunt questions.

Your uncle relays the message, including the part where your father has gone to the Baek family to search for Minji.

Jeno strokes your hair in comfort and you knock back your better judgment, digging your face into the collar of his trench coat.

“We must find Minji as soon as we can,” your aunt gasps. “If the news gets out, the family will be ruined!”

“I will fix it,” Jeno says with conviction.

You shake your head. “You can’t. This is my fault — I should have told my family the truth about Donghyuck or this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Do not blame yourself,” Jeno hisses, cupping his hands over your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. His eyes are filled with steadfast determination. “We will get this sorted.”

“I shall join your father in his search for Minji,” your uncle declares. “Mr. Lee, I ask for your favor in borrowing one of your carriages.”

“Of course,” Jeno agrees. “Jayoon, please show him the way.”

Jayoon casts another glance at you embraced in Jeno’s arms before guiding your uncle away.

“I will ask for our carriage to be prepared to take you home,” your aunt says, also leaving the two of you.

You sniffle, feeling shameful by your appearance in front of Jeno. He stares at you in distress.

“I apologize for my behavior-“

“I wish you would cease asking forgiveness in front of me. You never have to.”

Your breath hitches at his candor. Your bodies are as close to one another as the rainy day he first confessed to you. If you tilt your head forward a few inches, you could plant a kiss on his lips.

You compose yourself and take a step back.

“Mr. Lee, I-I should go.”

“Yes, yes,” he mumbles, clearly taken aback by his own actions. “I hope your family can remedy the situation.”

You turn to leave but he stutters out a request.

“And please, take care of yourself.”

You glance back at him, eyes welled with tears.

“You as well, Mr. Lee.”

—

When you return home, your mother is bedridden and wailing.

You and Jimin gather around her bed as she sobs. “Oh, what shall we do? You are all ruined. Who will wed you now with a fallen sister? And now your poor father will have to go off and fight Lee Donghyuck!”

You and Jimin exchange a glance. Jimin clears her throat.

“Father hasn’t even found Mr. Lee yet, mother.”

Your mother ignores her and continues. “And then Mr. Nakamoto will turn us out when your father is killed! Oh, Minji must know what this will do for my nerves. How can she vex her poor mother like this?”

You decide to head downstairs, agreeing that your mother’s avid concerns would not be subdued any time soon. You frown when you see Minjeong in the kitchen, holding a letter in her hands.

“What have you got there?”

Jimin snatches it out of Minjeong’s grasp and scans it herself. “It’s addressed to father. It’s in uncle’s writing.”

You hear the familiar sound of the carriage pulling up and you all dart outside, frantically waving the letter around.

“Father! Father!”

He groans, taking a step out of the carriage. “Let me get my bearings first.”

“It’s a letter for you! From uncle!” You say, thrusting it into his hands.

He opens it as he walks back to the house, dismissing your frantic jumping to read the contents.

“Well?” Minjeong says impatiently. “What does it say?”

“He’s found them.”

Jimin gasps. “Are they married?”

He squints. “I cannot make out the script-“

You seize it and read it for yourself. Jimin and Minjeong lurk over your shoulder.

“Are they married?” Jimin asks again.

You sigh. “They will be, under the condition that father pays Lee Donghyuck a small sum for Minji per year.”

Minjeong scoffs. “A small sum! How barbaric!”

“Well? Will you pay it, father?” Jimin questions. Minjeong takes the letter from you to read it again.

“Of course I will agree. The matter of the question is how much your uncle has already laid on this wretched man,” your father exhales, walking back into the house sluggishly.

You turn to Jimin. “What does he mean?”

She shrugs. “Uncle must have threatened Mr. Lee wickedly. For the situation, with the three of us still unmarried and the family’s reputation hanging by a thread, Mr. Lee would be foolish to only settle for a small sum.”

You scowl. “Heaven forbid the day we have to welcome that wretched man into the family.”

The day comes sooner than you think. Minji and Donghyuck arrive a few weeks later, with Minji beaming at her newfound status as a married woman. You roll your eyes at her airy nature at the dinner table.

“You must all visit the Baek family soon. That is the place to get husbands! I hope you have half of my good luck.”

“Good luck?” Minjeong scoffs. “You nearly ruined our family!”

Your mother scolds Minjeong for her outburst before turning to Minji with a smile.

“I want to hear every detail, my darling Minji.”

You and Jimin chuckle at your mother’s quick change in heart. She was out of bed and celebrating as soon as you told her the news of Minji getting married.

You exchange a look with Donghyuck across the table, and he appears remorseful. You mock him and laugh.

Minji rattles off the story about the last few weeks with Donghyuck and their wedding. You tell her you do not want to hear it but she ignores you.

“I wondered if my dear Donghyuck would be married in his blue coat, as I love the way he looks in it. And of course, because of the quick ceremony, I worried that uncle would not make it in time to be the best man. Luckily, he arrived on time or else I would’ve had to ask Mr. Lee Jeno but I don’t really like that man.”

You pause. “Lee Jeno?”

Minji gasps and covers her mouth, making sure no one else at the table heard her slip up. “Oh heavens, I forgot. I should not have said a word.”

You prod her further. “Mr. Lee was at your wedding?”

She lowers her voice into a whisper, and you realize she cannot help herself in dishing out the truth.

“He was the one who discovered us. He paid for everything — the wedding ceremony, Donghyuck’s sum, all of my new dresses, everything!” Her elated expression turns serious. “But do not say a word to anyone! He told me not to tell.”

You’re astounded by the secret. “M-Mr. Lee?” You clarify for your own sanity.

She shoots you a sour look. “Quit it!”

You sit back in your chair, feeling as if you need to catch your breath. You cannot believe Jeno went out of his way to save Minji and fix her horrid nuptials to Donghyuck. It’s no wonder that Donghyuck only asked for a small sum from your father as Jeno must have paid the rest.

You digest the information, wondering how it was possible for a man like Lee Jeno to exist and how it was possible that he so clearly loved a girl like you.

—

You hear rumors of Jaemin’s return to town, pushing Jimin to a state of disarray. She insists she does not care about his arrival, but when a local butcher tells you that he comes without a woman by his side, her interest is clearly piqued. You attempt to convince her to locate him, but she still persists she does not care about the origin of his visit.

You are lounging in the drawing room when Minjeong comes bursting through the door.

“He is here! Mr. Na is here!”

Her announcement sends the room into a frenzy, with your mother gasping and shooting out of her chair, nearly tripping over the furniture. Jimin is on her feet, combing her fingers through her hair and straightening her dress. You flee to the window, shocked when you see not only Jaemin approaching, but Jeno walking right beside him.

“Act natural, girls!” Your mother shouts, struggling to stand.

You quickly draw back from the window, hand over your heart. You are not thoroughly prepared to face Jeno again, especially now knowing how far he has gone to ensure your family wasn’t laid to ruin.

Your mother pushes Minjeong down into a seat and shoves some fabric into her hands to make it appear like she’s been embroidering. Jimin cries at you in despair and you help her tie a ribbon around her waist and brush her hair.

Your mother throws you a book and you all hurriedly sit in different areas of the room, looking as natural as you possibly can.

There is a knock on the door before one of your handmaidens enters.

“Mr. Na and Mr. Lee,” she introduces, stepping aside so the men can set foot in.

You all stand, curtsying as they bow. You beg your heart rate to stop thumping in your ears.

Jeno looks so attractive that it makes you want to curl into yourself and scream. He avoids your gaze, and you contemplate if he no longer wants to be with you because of Minji’s incident.

Jaemin opens his mouth to speak, but your mother beats him to it.

“How glad we are to see you again, Mr. Na! I am sure you have heard of my youngest getting married while you were away. We are very proud of her accomplishments.”

Jaemin smiles politely. “Yes, I heard the great news. I offer my congratulations.”

His eyes drift to Jimin’s form, and you see your sister smile timidly at him.

Your mother continues. “It is a shame that Mr. Lee Donghyuck lives so far. Having my youngest taken away at such an early age is no easy feat.”

You interrupt her, hoping to salvage the conversation for Jimin’s sake.

“How long are you in town for, Mr. Na?”

“Just a few weeks for the hunt.”

You forget that now is the best time for hunting season, and many men in town partake in the activity. Your eyes flit once again to Jeno’s form, and you catch him staring at you briefly before he looks away. The butterflies in your stomach will surely make you ill.

“Oh, Mr. Na, you must come here once you get bored of the game in town. My husband would love to oblige you,” your mother invites.

Jaemin’s smile never wavers. “Yes, that sounds splendid. Thank you.”

“How are you, Mr. Lee?” You ask.

You cannot help yourself. You have dreamed about him since you left the estate and he has to take accountability for your sleepless nights.

He momentarily glances at you. “I’m quite well, thank you.”

“I hope the weather is favorable when you go hunting,” you say.

He nods. “I return home tomorrow. I will not be participating in this year’s hunt.”

Your heart drops. “So soon?”

He refuses to look at you again.

“My Jimin looks beautiful, does she not?” Your mother questions Jaemin.

He stutters. “O-Oh yes, she does indeed.”

The room is filled with silence, and while you’re pleading for Jeno to look at you, Jimin is desperately wanting Jaemin to say more.

Jaemin swallows before clearing his throat. “W-Well, we must be going, I think. It was lovely to see you all again.”

“You must come visit,” your mother reminds him. “You promised last time you were in town that you would attend a family dinner.”

Jaemin awkwardly nods before scurrying out of the house. Jeno lingers, looking disappointed.

He bows his head. “Excuse me.”

The request for him to stay lays on the tip of your tongue but he exits before you can ask.

Once the two men are gone, you all collapse back in your seats. You rush to Jimin’s side as your mother voices, “How unusual!”

Your sister seems as optimistic as ever, despite the gloomy look in her eye.

“Perhaps that was for the best,” she hollowly laughs. “Now I will not have to go to bed wondering about my fate. He’s clearly moved on and is no longer interested.”

“Jimin,” you sigh, placing a hand over hers. “You do not have to fabricate your feelings to me. I may also be hiding some truths that I am not content with.”

Her head whips around. “Like what?”

Before you can finally tell her your secret, Minjeong’s voice screeches.

“He is back!”

“What?” Your mother screams, flinging her body at the window.

You catch the billowing of Jaemin’s coat before you’re being hauled up again by your mother. Jaemin enters the room in a more uncoordinated fashion, not even alerting the handmaiden so she can announce his presence. His hair is sticking up in random directions, indicating he was likely running his hands through it nervously.

“I apologize for my abrupt actions, but I would like to request an audience with Jimin if I may.”

All of your mouths drop open. Your mother speaks first.

“Everyone into the kitchen,” she instructs, and you nearly trip when she pushes you forward.

You grab Minjeong’s wrist and tug her with you. Your mother closes the door behind her and all three of you immediately press your ears against it to listen in.

“First, I must tell you that I have been a halfwitted and reckless fool,” you hear Jaemin start to say. You scoff, internally agreeing with him. Minjeong elbows you to be quiet. “And second, I want to atone for the months I have been away. My fair Jimin, I will wrong you no further. Would you do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage?”

You all gasp.

Moments pass before Jimin’s shaky voice replies, “Yes, a thousand times yes!”

Your mother bursts open the door and screeches in delight.

“My heavens, I never believed the day would come!”

You hurry in to envelope Jimin in a hug and congratulate her. The embrace gives you a direct view of the window, where a stony Lee Jeno stands in a far distance. You hold your breath, hoping he would come inside as well and give his own second version of a proposal. You would not hesitate to accept this time.

However, he merely situates himself there for a few seconds longer before turning away and leaving. You shut your eyes, quelling the ache in your chest and pulling Jimin closer to congratulate her once again.

—

That night, you giggle as you lay in bed with your sister.

“A spring wedding!” She exclaims, and your heart is full at the sight of her happiness. “Oh, he just looked so nervous but he had no idea how my heart was pounding out of my chest, sister. I wish for you to be this happy one day.”

Unlike the way Minji declared it to demean you, Jimin says it with pure virtue.

You fake a smile, thinking about how you screwed up your chances of ever being with Jeno.

“Maybe Mr. Nakamoto has a friend.”

She bursts into laughter at your joke and you pretend to share her joy. Your satisfaction, however, is broken by the sound of a carriage pulling up outside.

You frown. “Do you hear that?”

It was already well past midnight, so if a visitor was approaching, it must have been with urgent news. You and Jimin hop out of bed and rush downstairs, where the rest of your family is also starting to gather.

There’s a knock at the door and your father wobbles over to answer it.

You gasp when you see who is behind it.

“L-Lady Park?”

The woman shuffles in haggardly, and you all curtsy and bow at her presence. She looks disturbed, mouth twisted into an angry frown.

Your father awkwardly talks first. “May I offer you a cup of tea, madam?”

“Absolutely not. I need to speak with your second oldest alone.”

All eyes turn to you. You swallow and step forward, gesturing to the drawing room and leading Lady Park inside. You shut the door, placing a candle on a nearby table to provide you some semblance of sight.

Your palms sweat at the thought of what Lady Park had to confront you with. Perhaps you should not have messed around with Jimin — maybe Lady Park really was here to marry you off to one of Mr. Nakamoto’s friends.

“I am sure you are not puzzled by the reasoning behind my visit.”

You blink. “You are mistaken, ma’am. I cannot conjure up why you have honored my family here tonight by your presence.”

She scowls. “I warn you, dear girl, I am not one to be trifled with. A message has reached me that my nephew, Mr. Lee, has intended to unite you in the union of marriage.” You freeze, your mind running through a myriad of scenarios. “I know this to be a scandalous falsehood, so I instantly traveled here to make my sentiments known.”

You narrow your eyes at her degrading tone. “If you had thought the rumor so impossible, I ponder why you decided to travel so far.”

She steps forward, her scowl transforming into an expression filled with more hatred.

“I came to hear it be contradicted.”

“Your appearance will only serve as a confirmation if indeed such a report exists,” you say.

“If?” She spits out bitterly. “Are you meaning to pretend to not know of it? Were you not the one who started such a malicious lie to bring down the reputation of my dear nephew?”

“I have never heard of it!” You defend yourself.

“So my nephew has not made you an offer of marriage?”

You raise your head high. “You are the one who has declared such a thing to be impossible.”

You can practically see her shake with rage. “Mr. Lee has been engaged to my daughter since their infancy. Now what have you to say?”

“If that is the case, then there is no reason Mr. Lee would make an offer to me.”

“You listen to me, you selfish girl — if you think a woman of inferior birth with a scandalous sister who married the first suitor she came across can come in and tarnish Mr. Lee’s reputation, I will surely prove you wrong. Now tell me the truth, are you engaged to him?”

You contain yourself. “I am not.”

“And do you promise to never enter such an engagement?”

You put your foot down. You refuse to allow this woman to come into your home, insult you, and forbid you from marrying the man you know you yearn for.

“I shall never promise such a thing. You have traveled here in the dead of night to offend me in every possible way and I will tolerate it no longer. I must ask you to leave.”

You swing open the door, exposing your entire family on the opposite side of it, who were likely listening in on your ordeal. Lady Park gives you one last glance, and if looks could kill, you would be six feet underground.

“I have never been so disrespected in my entire life!” Lady Park declares before taking her leave, shutting the front door with great force.

“My dear, what is going on?”

“Why does she think something is happening between you and Mr. Lee?”

“Did Mr. Lee propose to you?”

You flee from your family’s questioning, running up the stairs with tears in your eyes.

“For once in your life, leave me alone!”

—

It is the break of dawn when you decide to take a walk.

You could not sleep all night. Jimin slipped into your bed at one point and comforted you wordlessly, wrapping her arms around you. You thought about Jeno and Lady Park’s scornful words. If you had a little less dignity, you would have told her how her nephew proposed to you but in all your stupidity, you denied him. She would probably get a laugh out of that.

You stare down at your feet, kicking around the patches of weeds childishly. Your breath hitches when another pair of shoes land before you.

You raise your head to see Lee Jeno standing there in all of his glory.

You say the first thing that comes to mind.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Nor I.”

You nod, pulling your jacket tighter around your shoulders. “Your aunt was here-“

“I should make amends for such insolent behavior.”

You shake your head. “After everything you have done to save Minji and I suspect to help Jimin, I should be the one apologizing for my behavior.”

“I told you that you never have to apologize to me, didn’t I? You must know I did all of it for you.” He says, smiling. You wonder if you could ever be this infatuated with another human being. “I came here because I beg you not to trifle with me. My aunt’s visit has provided me hope — a feeling I thought had disappeared months ago. I plead with you to tell me if your affections have changed.”

He takes a step closer to you. His eyes melt with a familiar fondness.

“If they have changed, I must tell you that you have bewitched me, body and soul. I love you, and I wish to never be parted from you from this day forth.”

You can no longer hold back your grin. You close the distance, gently tugging on the lapels of his dreary trench coat. You press your lips to his and his control officially snaps, one hand wrapping around your middle and tugging you closer. He kisses you with fervor, as if it is the last thing on earth he will ever get to do.

You giggle and pull back to catch your breath.

“Tell me, please,” he whispers with desperation. “I can bear it no longer.”

“I love you,” you say, stroking your fingers through his hair. “I love, love, love you.”

He kisses you again, hand traveling to the back of your neck and pulling you as close as humanly possible. He kisses you like he is afraid that you will slip out of his grasp. Warmth pools at the bottom of your stomach at his obvious desire.

“W-We should speak to my father,” you pant against his mouth.

“Yes, yes,” he agrees, catching his own breath. “A spring wedding? Or we could get married now, I have no objection-“

You giggle. “Mr. Lee, don’t get too ahead of yourself.”

“I cannot help it. I have waited too long for you to be in my embrace.”

“Then we shall not wait a second longer.”

—

You marry Lee Jeno on a beautiful day in spring.

The ceremony is simple at your request, and your mother cries when you walk down the aisle. Yujin sobs when she sees you in a veil, joyful that you have finally found your happy ending.

Your father was initially confused when you came to his office hand in hand with your betrothed until you explained to him the true nature of your feelings and all of the actions Jeno had taken to save your family. Jimin and Minjeong demanded to know all of the details you kept from them, and Minji even traveled into town to also hear your side of events.

Jeno has the wedding planned faster than you can blink, stressing that he cannot endure another day without you as his wife.

You have awoken something primal in him, and it shows on your wedding night.

He nearly breaks open the bedroom door as he pushes you in, shutting it loudly and practically throwing you on the bed. You laugh when he hovers over you, pressing kisses down your neck.

“Jeno, Jeno,” you hum, smiling as he tugs your wedding dress up. “Slow down, my love.”

“I want to taste you,” he groans against your collarbone.

His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine. You have only heard stories about what happens between a husband and his wife in their bedroom. They were usually filled with salacious recountings from many of the schoolgirls around you growing up. You honestly have no idea what you’re in for tonight, but all you know is that you would let Jeno take you at his heart’s desire.

“Too many buttons,” he grumbles against your chest, and you gasp when he rips your dress clean down the middle.

“Jeno!” You begin to scold but it turns into a moan when his lips latch onto your left breast, tongue flicking at your nipple lewdly.

“You’re mine, are you not? My wife, my forever,” he mumbles, kissing down your stomach until he is face to face with your core.

You tense at the sight of him being so close to an intimate part of your body. He senses your nerves, looking up at you and interlacing his hands with yours.

“It is quite alright, Mrs. Lee,” he smirks at your new surname. “You can trust me.”

You take a deep breath and relax. “I trust you.”

The first swipe of his tongue against your core takes your breath away. Your spine arches at the exhilarating feeling. He moves your hand until it is resting on his hair, urging you to pull at the strands as you please.

He laps at your folds eagerly, lips mouthing over you passionately. You cry when he suddenly takes your clit in his mouth and sucks hard.

He unlocks a new type of pleasure you never believed was possible — tremors running down your body as you chase the high. You fail to realize your hips are moving on their own accord, twisting and riding his face.

When the pleasure begins to subside, Jeno pulls away and lets you catch your breath.

“What was that?” You wheeze.

He chuckles, hoisting himself up to kiss you. He trails kisses across your cheek.

“Did it feel good, my pearl?”

“I-I need to feel that again.”

His laughter is like music to your ears. He nuzzles his face into your neck.

“Would you like me to show you how much better I can make you feel?”

You nod and he raises his head to see you. “I love you,” he murmurs, leaning forward to kiss you again.

Since the day you confessed your feelings, he hasn’t failed to remind you of his love nearly every hour of every day.

“When this is over, will I bear your child?” You ask, genuinely curious about the answer.

He strokes your hair gently. “Is that something you want?”

You laugh and bob your head. “Of course. We simply cannot live in this grand house by ourselves. I fear I will go hysterical.”

“Then we will have as many children as you like, Mrs. Lee.”

He begins to undress and you eye him as respectfully as you can. You wish you had known Jeno was hiding his muscular glory underneath those boring trench coats. You likely would not have rejected him the first time if you were made aware.

“Please resist drooling.”

You narrow your eyes playfully. “You’re my husband. I may drool as I please.”

He grins and throws his coat and shirt to the side, slowly unbuttoning his pants. Your mouth waters when he finally takes off his undergarments.

His cock is beautiful, if you’re even allowed to say that. Pretty and pink and long. A bit of liquid leaks from the tip and you suddenly get a craving to taste it.

“We have all the time for you to do that later. I want to show you a good time now,” he says as if he can read your mind.

You smile and pull him close, pressing your lips together. You watch as he gives his cock a few tugs before lining it up to your entrance.

“This may hurt at first, but I promise it will feel satisfactory if you loosen your body,” he says, ensuring that you are listening carefully.

You nod, happy twinkle never disappearing from your eyes.

“I trust you.”

The first thrust is painful. You exhale, focusing on not tensing up your body too much as Jeno instructed. He soothes you, fingers running up and down your sides lightly.

“You are so perfect for me,” he hums. “I should have married you sooner.”

When he’s finally all the way inside, you take a deep breath. He rests his forehead on yours.

“Good?”

You stroke his cheek fondly. “Good, my love.”

He rolls his hips into yours and you groan. He picks up a steady beat until the furrow in your brow vanishes. A wave of pleasure shoots up your spine and you gasp, triggering Jeno to pick up his pace.

He grips the headboard tightly between his fingers, planting his knees on the mattress before driving into you.

“O-Oh!” You moan, not anticipating how intoxicating this would feel.

You raise your hips and subconsciously move to meet his thrusts. He groans at your effort, slowly losing it at how tight you feel around him.

“Here,” he says, moving one hand downwards to pinch your clit and roll it between his fingers.

“Ungh,” you wail, throwing your head back. “That’s so good, Jeno. Keep going.”

Vulgar sounds fill the bedroom with skin slapping skin and your moans mixed with his grunts. You probably look maniacal with the way you’re desperately chasing your high, but you have no care in the world right now.

Your mind is merely screaming Jeno’s name.

He collapses back on you, kissing you with an intensity you could not describe. You swear you see stars explode behind your eyes.

“May I try something?” He pants into your mouth.

You agree and he withdraws himself from you, nearly causing you to whimper at the loss. He grabs your hips and twists you around, taking off the scraps of your dress and flinging it to the floor. His hand pushes down your head and arches your back. You turn your head to the side and moan.

“Please, Jeno, please-“

He eases himself back inside, answering your pleas.

He breathes heavily, squeezing his eyes shut. “You are torturing me beyond no end.”

This position hits a different spot inside of you. You mewl, clawing at the sheets. You have never felt closer to Jeno until this moment with the way his cock fits so perfectly inside of you.

He leans down to press kisses to your shoulders.

“May I use you as I wish?”

The question almost has you whining.

“Whatever you like, my love. Please, use me for your pleasure.”

He drills into you, forcing his cock into your dripping hole until you weep for him. You bury your face into his pillow, preventing your screams from growing too loud when you ultimately fall into your second climax. It hits a lot harder than the first, especially since Jeno shows no signs of stopping.

You cry when he changes positions again, falling to his side and moving you to do the same, hiking up your leg until it’s wrapped around his hip. He angles himself so that he hits you deeper.

You wonder if you look like a woman vexed, completely overtaken by lust. He pounds into you to coax your third orgasm to come to bay.

You beg for him, unsure of what you’re pleading for.

“Please, please, please-“

His hand strikes at your clit, slapping it with an unexpected force. You dive headfirst into your peak, crying and whimpering until your throat is sore.

Your body tries to squirm away from Jeno’s sharp thrusts but he doesn’t let you, holding you down and turning you so that your stomach presses against the mattress again.

His cock beats into your soaking cunt before he reaches his own high, groaning loudly as he spills his seed deep into you. It is only then that he finally slows down, collapsing onto the bed and pulling you into his arms.

You both pant, trying to catch your breath as his cum leaks down your thighs.

“So we can do that all the time now?” You huff.

He laughs and kisses your forehead.

“Whenever you would like, Mrs. Lee.”

[pearlywritings]

"Bring your kid to work" day

synopsis: but sometimes it's very much unplanned.

pairing and characters: Zhongli x fem!reader, Xiao. Your family name is Rex-Lapis. Childe plays part in it too.

tw: modern AU, University AU, established relationship, fluff

word count: 2.8k+ words

a/n: Also a part of my University modern AU with history professor Zhongli

The day started perfectly. Your older daughter was already at school with your permission to stay at her friend's house for a sleepover later, you had your day off, lounging in the living room with your son cuddling to you with his most favorite dragon shaped toy pressed between your bodies, listening to your husband walking around the bedroom, getting ready for the lectures at the University, being blessed with afternoon classes.

The day was perfect indeed. Until it absolutely isn't.

Sometimes you really want to kill your boss. It must be today that you are called to work to help with an emergency, that no one knows how to deal with except for you. And the fact that your boss does not consider any possibility of you having trouble with doing what's required, makes you fume harder.

"Li, I don't know what to do!" You cry in frustration, buttoning your shirt. "We can't find a babysitter in ten minutes! You have to go to work, I have to now too, we can't just ask Ganyu to cancel her plans, she's been waiting for this sleepover for weeks, and I can't take Xiao with me - by the sound of it I won't have a single moment to look after him."

It's been no longer than five minutes since you received that call, but you are already as stressed as after a week of non-stop work. Why must've the stars aligned this way!?

Your husband - bless his soul - is fully dressed and is holding your little son perched on his arm, supporting his back with a hand, watching your frantic movements with sympathy.

"I don't think I'll have many spare moments either, my love. Only breaks between lessons. Let me think," the man hums, leaning Xiao’s body more onto his shoulder and reaching for his phone with a free hand. The boy wraps arms around his neck, watching you brush your hair with a pout. The plan was to spend the whole day together with mama, watching cartoons, playing, maybe going for a walk or, ideally, taking a nap, finishing it all with making dinner and welcoming papa home. Now, it seems to him, all these plans are thrown out of the window.

However, Xiao was always a very perceptive and patient kid - he sensed somehow when the situation couldn’t be helped and him throwing a fit - not like he would - would only cause more trouble. That is why he is quietly waiting for what comes next.

And finally Zhongli finds a solution.

“I’m calling Ajax. He mostly spends time at the teacher’s lounge. As far as I know he really loves kids and has several younger siblings, he should be able to handle our son. And during breaks I’ll be taking over” “Oh,” as good as it all sounds, there is an instant hesitation in your mind. “‘Li, you sure you can ask him that? It’s a big deal after all…” “I know, dear, I know. That’s why I am calling him now in advance to make sure it’s alright,” your husband dials the number of his department’s secretary and puts the phone to the ear. “I don’t even mind paying him if he agrees.”

In reality you had nothing to worry about. The gingerhead was more than willing to watch your five-year old son. Maybe willing isn’t the right word even - the young man is excited.

Zhongli is lucky to arrive before the current class ends - the less attention is drawn, the better. He collected everything he could think of to occupy Xiao during his time at the lounge in a bag, which he passes to Ajax the moment his son and him are introduced. However while the secretary is wearing a wide and kind smile, the boy is glaring up at him from under the brown bangs, boring his strikingly golden eyes in the tall figure.

“Dad, I don’t like him,” the little boy pouts, hugging his plushie even tighter and throwing daggers at the gingerhead from behind the dragon’s mane.

“Ouch, little guy,” with a dramatic gasp, the young man clutches the shirt on his chest and presses the back of his hand to the forehead. “How will I live? Hated by Mr Rex-Lapis’ son…”

“Now, now, Xiao,” Zhongli gently pats his head, bending down to look into his eyes and finding displeasure there. “It’s only for today, baby. Me and mom are really sorry for not spending time with you today. I promise that soon I’ll be home for two whole weeks.”

To that the boy’s eyes widen.

“Two weeks… That’s fourteen days?”

“That’s right, sweety.”

“That’s a lot!” He jumps, elated by the news, no trace of dissatisfaction written over his cute smiling face.

“Haha, it is, dear.”

“Wow, Mr Rex-Lapis, your son is really smart!” The secretary stopped playing hurt, instead clapping his hands together in praise and nodding his head in approval. “How old is he?”

“He is five. Yes, he learns really fast.”

“No wonder, he has you and your wife as parents.”

The remaining 20 minutes before his first lecture Zhongli spends in attempts to make his son comfortable not only around Ajax, but also at the new place as well. All that time Xiao doesn’t let go of his ever-present companion - a toy dragon, which he is hugging close to his chest. He politely greets every professor that comes to the lounge, which makes the secretary’s jaw drop since he is the only one who’s been initially rejected and, Zhongli can swear, he saw his boy smirking in the toy’s fluffy mane.

Other professors can’t help but mention how much the son resembles the father, even making small talk with the boy, whom they’ve only heard about before or seen in the framed picture of your family on Zhongli’s desk. By how polite (sorry, Ajax) and shyly sweet he is Xiao quickly becomes everyone’s favorite, pockets currently full with all kinds of treats.

When it’s time to go, the man kisses Xiao’s forehead goodbye, promising to be back in an hour and a half for a break, and grabs the materials. Once he leaves alongside his colleagues, Xiao sighs and, ignoring his temporary caretaker, moves to the bag his dad left, starting to dig out all the candies to put them into its side pocket.

“Whatcha doin’, little guy?” The young man is at his side in two long strides, curiously watching the boy’s actions. Xiao gives him a side eye, before deeming the question plausible and turning back to his task.

“I don’t want them right now. I’ll bring them home and share with mom and dad.”

“I am sure they’ll like that,” Ajax hums, busying himself with the contents of the main section. “Oh, would you look at that! It seems that your dad packed some coloring books, toys and… oh, puzzles! You like puzzles?”

The boy quietly nods. Tiptoeing, he tries to see the two boxes his temporary caretaker is holding, and the young man immediately crouches down to let him look.

“This one is new,” Xiao finally points to the box in his left hand. Ocean blue eyes skim over the picture of a phoenix, drawn in a simple yet elegant style. Yes, that definitely looks like something Mr Rex-Lapis would’ve bought for his child’s entertainment.

“Alright, let's get you behind your dad's desk,” golden eyes sparkle and a glimpse of wonder appears on the boy’s face. Dad showed him his own space at the lounge; it's tidy and organized, with all the necessities sorted inside the drawers and some notes and pictures pinned to the corkboard on the wall to the left. He wants to see them closer!

His caretaker drags the chair back, but climbing on it Xiao performs himself. As Ajax is humming something while tearing off the tape on the puzzle box, the boy turns to look at the photos Mr Rex-Lapis has on display. It’s so funny, really - not so long ago this little fella’s father was an image of reserve to students, no one knew who his wife was or the fact he had two kids. The secretary remembers how just half a year ago he used to be among those only ones who knew of the professor’s secret (which, in reality, wasn’t a secret at all). Why hasn't he ever spilled any info to the students who adore him?

Well, what fun would’ve been in it?

“Is that your big sister?” Xiao quickly glances up, taking notice of how the tall (but not as tall as dad) man hovers over where he is sitting and points at one of the pictures. The boy looks at it again.

“...yes. It’s Ganyu.”

“I have a sister too,” the fond expression on that freckle-covered face and a seemingly lightened color of those ocean-blue eyes disarms the five-year old a little. He blinks, waiting for what more he can tell. “Not one actually. Oh, and I have brothers too. One is your age, by the way!”

“Doesn’t it get too… loud?” Small hands reach for the carton box, lifting the lid.

“It does, in a good way though. But when our two huskies join in on the fun… Let’s just say it’s a good thing we have our own house.”

“You have dogs? That’s so cool! I want to have a pet too,” Xiao unceremoniously empties the contents onto the table, yet carefully places the lid with the picture against the monitor of the computer. “Mom promised that when I get older, they’ll buy me a bird.”

“Oh? You love those?”

“Mhm… Maybe we’ll buy something as pretty as…” he pauses, looking at the fiery bird. Ajax quickly realizes the struggle.

“A fo-nuhks,” Xiao prompts.

“Yeah… A fee-niks.”

As the minutes tick by, the boy’s initial hostility seems to evaporate. He still doesn’t talk unnecessarily much, but he does talk to Ajax, so that's progress. He is quite quick to finish the puzzles, and his temporary caretaker makes sure to praise the child. They talk a bit more about their respective families, Xiao even introduces him to his dragon companion. And the gingerhead picks the small fox-shaped keychain his elder sister knitted for him to play toy pals.

For another half an hour it manages to entertain the boy, but as the end of the class is nearing, he grows more and more distracted, glancing either at the door or the clock hanging high on the wall. It’s not hard to guess he is missing his father and is anticipating his return, but both Zhongli and Ajax can do nothing to just speed the time.

What professor can do though, is excusing his class ten minutes earlier, quite happy they got to get through all the material he prepared for this lecture. Bidding the students goodbye, he locks the door of the auditorium with his suitcase inside and puts the key in the pocket of his fancy vest to come back in twenty minutes.

When Zhongli enters the teacher’s lounge, he finds the secretary showing his son something on his own laptop. However, once Xiao’s eyes spot his dad’s figure in the doorframe, the little guy is down from his chair and running all the way to the man.

“Dad!” Mr Rex-Lapis barely has time to close the door and scoot down to catch his son, who nearly bumps into his legs, threatening the man’s balance. Finally in his arms, with his own tiny ones tightly wrapped around strong neck, the carbon copy of Zhongli happily smiles and Ajax has to rub his eyes to make sure he is not hallucinating. Wow, this boy can smile like that (sorry, my guy, you are just not his favorite, though now tolerable at least).

“Hello, Xiao,” Zhongli plants an affectionate kiss on his son’s cheek. “I see you’ve missed me,” the words are answered with eager nods. “Did you have fun with Ajax?” At least some of it.

The gingerhead lifts his eyebrow when the boy looks back at him, holds the gaze of ocean blue eyes for a moment, and then turns to his father once more.

“I suppose.”

The older man has to clear his throat with a polite cough so as not to break into a smile at the image of the assistant's slack jaw.

“That’s good, my dear.”

“Are we coming home now?” His son wonders, fingers playing with the longer locks of dark brown. Unfortunately, the answer is a dejected sigh.

“I am afraid we are not yet, sweety. But mommy texted me recently that she’ll be able to come get you after my second lecture. And then I’ll have one more.”

At the promise of you soon arriving to take him home, Xiao’s just building pout quickly disappeared. It’s okay, he can wait for a little bit longer. And that fox-like man isn’t bad, his company is quite nice. He even showed him some pictures of his family - almost all of them are ginger. Oh, and he promised to download some simple games onto his dad’s computer so he could play. And he still has his coloring books back there and he believes he saw you packing a small book - there is plenty to entertain him with.

Only for all these thoughts and motivation to be shuttered when someone knocked on the door and a second later some student’s head pushed through the gap. None of the three people currently present in the room could’ve anticipated what a black hole is about to be opened.

“Good afternoon, is Mr Rex-La- Oh, professor, you are here! We were wondering if we could take the key to leave our bags inside? As always? Oh, hey kiddo- Wait, a kid???”

“Dad, who is it?”

“DAD!?”

Before anyone could do anything, loud gasps break their way into the lounge. It appeared that almost the whole group was standing in the hall and heard everything crystally clear. Of course students are curious. Of course, they know about professor Rex-Lapis’ kid - the news and that cute picture from an online lecture were still the talk of the whole faculty just a couple of months ago. Of course, they want to see those sweet cheeks for crying out loud!

Ajax is the one who has to get everyone who does not belong in the room out and calm them all down as more than a dozen youngsters beg and plead with Zhongli to bring his baby boy to the lecture. And the said baby boy doesn’t help the situation either, looking at his father with those striking eyes, silently asking to stay with him. “I’m gonna sit very-very quiet,” he even promises.

Is it really a surprise that Xiao ends up sitting at his dad’s desk with his coloring books while the man is reading a lecture? (Students almost crumbled when their tall, handsome, enigmatic history professor walked into the auditorium with his son’s tiny hand clasped in his? Look, he even had to bend his body a little to do so!)

And, as much as students want to gush all over their favorite professor’s small-sized carbon copy, they keep their best behavior, because the situation gives the “once in a century” vibes and they’d be damned to destroy the magic of the moment.

Well, maybe a little, because the smallest interactions between Zhongli and his son as the man lets his students finish writing down information from the current slide are mind-blowing. Groupchat-blowing too.

Even cuter the whole occurrence becomes when the boy stops drawing and lifts his head, curious of what his dad is speaking about. He turns slightly in order to see the presentation, golden eyes skimming over the pictures and words, though he does not understand most of it. But it’s alright though - he can listen to his father instead.

Zhongli is pleasantly surprised when no one can answer one of his revision questions and Xiao lifts his hand, giving him the answer he wanted (he misspells the word a little, sure, but he knew the right response nonetheless). Aaaand that’s probably when the students finally lose it.

By the time the lesson is over and Zhongli meets with you in the teacher’s lounge to pass your very happy and very proud son to you so you two could be on your merry way home, the man feels a little drained. Nothing that can’t be fixed by your tender cheek kiss and soft rubbing on his back, but he still exhales heavily and swears that when he comes home, you are in for a new story.

And by what Ajax had time to tell while you’ve been waiting, you're sure it’s going to be a hilarious one.

taglist: @meimeimeirin Cause I remember how you once said you'd love to see more of this AU

[zegrasdrysdale]

Jamie or Nico where the reader is sick has the stomach bug or somthing and being really sweet and either Jamie or nico is takeing care of the reader

[ i’ve got you ] n. hischier

paring : Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary : Nico takes care of his girlfriend while she’s down and basically out with the stomach flu

warning(s) : the stomach flu, throwing up, being sick in general

author’s note : this request coming in while i was sick and throwing up myself was very funny

༺═──────────────═༻

The bathroom floor has become her friend over the past 24 hours or so. She’s spent more time in the bathroom than she has in her bedroom. The doctor at the urgent care told her to get as much rest as she could before she goes back to work, but the social media interns have been slacking since the stomach flu took her out two days ago. She hasn’t exactly been listening to the advice she’s been given and has been working from home.

This morning is no different than the last few days. Her back is against the wall right next to the toilet. Her eyes are closed but she’s not asleep. She’s probably going off of ten hours of sleep total in the last 72 hours because of the amount of time she’s spent in the bathroom.

The door opens and a pajama clad Nico walks into the room. Her eyes open and she looks up at her boyfriend of two years. Nico takes two large steps toward her and crouches beside her. He rests a hand on her forehead.

“Temperature hasn’t changed,” she croaks. “I checked it when I woke up. Still over 101 but less than 102. It’s like 101.6 or something. I can’t remember right now. I think I’m throwing up my stomach at this point because I’m pretty sure there’s nothing left in there to actually throw up.”

Nico frowns and sits crisscrossed in front of her. “I think you should go to the emergency room, liebling,” he tells her. “Your fever hasn’t broken and you’re still throwing up even though there isn’t anything to throw up. I know you are still working too so maybe not being home would be a good thing.”

Her stomach knots up and she reaches for the toilet. Nico grabs her hair and holds it up for her as she throws up for what’s probably the twentieth time in three days. Her throat is so sore from the bile she’s puked up.

Tears prick her eyes when she flushes the toilet and sits back. “I hate being sick,” she cries to Nico. “I hate that I practically live on the bathroom floor.”

Nico brushes her tears away. “I know,” he replies. Nico pauses for a second. “I’m going to tell Keefe and Fitzy that I’m going to stay home for the roadie so you aren’t alone, okay? I’ll do interviews or whatever here if they want me to. I’ll work from home like you even though you shouldn’t be working at all.”

“Interns don’t know what they’re doing,” she mumbles.

“This is when you let them figure it out,” Nico laughs as he brushes her sweaty locks out of her face. “Let your department head take over until you get back. Working isn’t helping you get better, liebling. It’s keeping you from getting better. Stressing about work isn’t good for you when you’re sick.”

The worst part is that she knows he’s right. Working isn’t helping her get any better. Stressing about what the interns are doing isn’t helping anything.

She sighs and looks up at him. “I’ll call my boss and tell her that I can’t work until I get back in the office,” she tells Nico. “I guess I’ll let the interns destroy the social media.”

“Leave it alone,” Nico tells her with a smile. “Your boss is capable enough to cover it. They won’t destroy the social media. I’ll call your boss for you while you soak in a warm bath. No more worrying about work. You’re not working from home anymore. That’s me if they need me to do an interview or two while they go on the road.”

After she nods, Nico starts a warm bath for her in the tub while she slowly strips out of the disgusting clothes she’s been living in since the first day she got sick.

Nico helps her into the warm water, which feels good on her aching body. He leaves the room for a couple of moments. She sinks down until her chin is submerged. Her eyes close as she finally doesn’t feel like she has to throw up for the first time in three days.

She doesn’t realize that Nico came back until he sits her up and sinks down in the water behind her. “You’re going to get sick,” she mumbles. “If I was going to get sick then I would’ve gotten sick already. Let me take care of you, liebling. I’ve got you.”

He grabs a cup from the ground beside the tub that he must’ve brought in with him and leans her head back to wet her hair. She hums at how good it feels to have warm water on her scalp.

Nico washes and conditions her hair, with her instruction because she wants to at least make sure her hair is done right. He helps her clean her body. He’s very gentle with her since her entire body is aching with fever.

“Do you think you can eat something?” Nico asks. “I can make you toast or you can snack on some crackers.”

She shakes her head and leans back against Nico’s chest as she shuts her eyes. “Wanna sleep,” she mumbles. “So sleepy.”

Her body relaxes and she feels herself enter a daze. Until Nico gently shakes her awake. “Can’t sleep in the tub,” he tells her. “Let’s get you dressed and into bed. Maybe I’ll have something ready for you to eat when you wake.”

With a tired groan, she allows Nico to help her out of the tub and wrapped up in a towel. He helps her into their shared bedroom where he grabs one of his t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants for her to dress into.

As soon as her body hits the mattress and her head hits the pillows, she begins to drift off to sleep. Nico presses a kiss to her temple and mumbles, “Sleep well. We’ll try food when you wake up. I love you.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

When she wakes, it feels like she’s blinked. She feels only slightly better when her nap is over, but she looks over at her bedside table and finds a piece of unbuttered toast. It looks like it was recently put there. Something small to get in her stomach since she’s thrown up everything else she’s tried to eat.

There’s a voice coming from the other room so she goes to investigate when she’s done eating. She throws on one of the hoodies she borrowed from Nico and heads out into the living room of their apartment.

Nico looks back at her as he’s saying, “… a couple of days away from the team. I’m not hurt but my girlfriend is very sick and shouldn’t be left alone.” He pauses. “Yes, just put me on leave for personal reasons. Say I have to deal with a family emergency for a couple of days.” He pauses again and turns his back to her. “Yeah, I’ll be available for an interview or two once this is announced. I know a lot of people will have questions and I’m not afraid to answer any of them.” He pauses one last time. “Thank you. Let me know if I need to do any interviews or if I need to send out a statement.”

Then he hangs up the phone and turns back to her. “You got your leave?” she questions.

He nods. “Yeah,” he sighs. “They understood that I need to step away. I don’t want to be in California while you’re here sick. I want to make sure I’m here if something happens and you need to go to the hospital. It’s one thing if I’m playing in a homestand, it’s another if I go on a California roadie for a week.”

She frowns and is so exhausted and overwhelmed that tears form in her eyes. They roll down her cheeks and she does her best to wipe them away before Nico sees them, but it’s too late.

Nico walks up to her and wraps his arms around her. “I don’t deserve you,” she sobs. “I’ve been such a bad girlfriend recently and stressing you out because I’ve been stressing myself out. I haven’t been listening to anything that anyone is saying to me because I thought working was more important than resting and getting better.”

“This is why I’m here,” Nico tells her. “To help you out in moments like this. Remind you to take a break. Relieve some of that stress by telling your boss to take over your work until you get back and help you into the tub so you can soak.”

The tears don’t stop at Nico’s words. They only get worse and her sobs get louder because she’s so tired and overwhelmed.

Yet, he holds her the entire time she cries in the living room.

This is the reason she loves Nico. It’s never been a choice between her and hockey for him. He’s picked her over his career numerous times over the past two years or so. Even at her worst moments, like right now. He’s always stepped away from hockey to take care of her.

It’s what makes him a great captain too. He’s always putting his teammates above himself, no matter what team he’s on or what country he’s playing in. Their needs, their injuries, their illnesses. It’s no surprise to her that those qualities come into play in their relationship.

She finally stops crying after five minutes, and Nico never lets her go. She looks up at him and he dries her cheeks with his thumbs.

“I love you,” she tells him. “More than you’ll ever know.”

Nico kisses her forehead. “You seem a little cooler,” he says. “Are you feeling better?”

“I don’t feel like I have to throw up the toast yet,” she sighs. “Key word being ‘yet’ in that sentence.”

He laughs and suggests, “How about a movie and you can sleep if you want? Does that sound good?” She nods.

The pair go back into their bedroom. She curls up at Nico’s side as he finds something to watch on Netflix. She never finds out what he put on because she was back asleep before he picked something.

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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taglist : @dasiysthings @ithinkimokeei @equallyshaw @dancerbailey3 @love4lando @stony1386 @mangoluver @prettyinsatiable @ivy-34 @bunbunbl0gs @marie7366 @naughty-box @memandi @rybabob @this-ass-is-eikonic @alwaysclassyeagle @auriesphantom @thestarrynightslover

[pandamoniumvibes-27]

The Vees Overstim Headcannons (SFW)

The Vees (separate) x Gender Neutral reader

Description: how the Vees are when they are overstimulated and how they help reader when they’re overstimulated.

Warnings: Toxic Valentino/Bad partner Valentino

Vox

Out of all the Vees Vox is around the middle ground when he is overstimulated

Vox spends weeks at a time in his office refusing to sleep or eat until he finishes his work

Unfortunately, work doesn’t stop when you own a company like VoxTech

It’s a common occurrence for VoxTech employees to be killed by Vox during his week long shifts

Its only after you convince him less work will be done if there is a blackout that he goes to the penthouse

Vox will usually sleep off the stress most days but there is times when he is too worked up that comfort shows work better

This man will make sure to buy the companies that makes these shows so they keep his favorite comfort shows in production

Vox loves watching True Crime while having take out Chinese food

Something only you have noticed is all the True Crime references he puts in his tv shows

If available he will try to get you and the other Vees to join him randomly coming in with random facts and theories on who is the murder

He is usually correct

When he is relaxed enough he will go to sleep although he will sheepishly ask you to come with him

He doesn’t like to admit it but quality time is his primary love language

Now if your overstimulated

Vox probably won’t notice at first but give him an hour and he will get the hint

If you’re doing work he immediately takes you away from it and brings you to his office

He gives you tea and if you don’t like tea then your favorite warm drink while sitting you down in a chair

Vox stops doing what ever what he was doing and tries having a conversation with you about anything

Vox usually tries to talk about your favorite things

Eventually Vox tells you to go up to the penthouse and put on your favorite show

He joins you after finishing his work early for the day

Man can’t cook well so he orders your favorite food (take out or from a restaurant) and brings it up to the penthouse with him

He purposely dims the lights and puts his creen on night mode in hopes the warmer lights will relax you

He’s right and you catch him smiling at you as your watching the tv

“You’re supposed to be watching the tv not staring at me like a pervert!”

“Seeing you smile is better than any tv show.”

“Better than Pride Ring 666?”

“1,000 times better than Pride Ring 666”

Valentino

Valentino is by far the least bad of the Vees when he gets overstimulated

That or ever has just gotten used to him throwing temper tantrums every 5 seconds

The main problem with Valentino is that he has turned his stress reliever into work

Valentino doesn’t realize that what he needs isn’t more sex or drugs but just needs to relax

This often doesn’t happen

Many of his employees get hurt along with employees from Vox and Velvette’s department

Eventually they send you to handle him

After a lot of fight and tears you finally convince him to take a break

Although he makes it seem like it is his idea and forces you to join him even if your working

Valentino marches to the penthouse just to put random tv show on

It doesn’t matter which one it is it can even be static all that matters is the fact it’s light

It’s a weird moth thing

The light is just so calming to him he stares at it for hours with wide eyes

If your lucky you can slip away and do some work just be back before he realizes

After he takes a nap holding you while you try to some work done on your phone

Valentino isn’t much better when your overstimulated

He doesn’t even notice unless you straight up tell him

Even then he isn’t stopping his work to help you

He tells you to take some drugs and when you refuse he straight up tells you to leave him alone

After his shift if your still overstimulated he will bring you to the couch and put his wings over you as you cuddle

If you fall asleep he will get up and go about his business but if he is feeling very nice he will make your favorite food wake you up and give it to you

If you beg real nicely he will go to bed with you

Don’t expect anymore from him he already did

“Amorcito I don’t know what you want from me!”

“I just want sympathy! Comfort! Just a hug! But NO! I GET FUCKING DRUGS!”

“Amor~ you’re acting crazy! I already did sooo much for you don’t be selfish~”

Velvette

It doesn’t help that Velvette’s work is in the thing she holds 24/7

For Velvette her work is always changing thousand of post a second all changing the trends and it her job to make sure the Vees are on top of it

Even during her lunch break she is working posting photos of her lunch taking selfies and then doom scrolling till break is over

She never ate her lunch and she only feels more overworked

Don’t even ask her about her day when she gets back to the penthouse it will only make her feel worse

Velvette locks herself in her room to film more content fix the algorithm and read the comments on her latest post

Some are less than nice and make her feel like an object rather than a person

You can try to help Velvette: give her chocolates invite her on dates maybe try to actually drag her away from her work but it will only make things worse

Velvette does what she wants and to her all your actions just read as you trying to stop her from succeeding

Your best chance at getting Velvette to take a break is sitting her down and explaining to her your observation

And she thought she was the observant one

You two come to an agreement where you take her phone for the day and you spend the day doing her favorite things

You go to her favorite restaurant her favorite stores and play her favorite video games

You take pictures for her trying your hardest to male them the best photos you have ever taken

She might hire you to be a photographer one day

Now if your overstimulated your in luck! She is very observant!

She won’t help you right away she has important work to do

She tells you to take a nap in her room and she’ll come when she is done with her work

When you wake up you don’t see her but you do see a big basket social media worthy

Inside has your favorite candy, drink, along with extra blankets and candles and slippers

If you have really specific things you like for example Pokémon or maybe really enjoy crosswords or a book series expect that in the basket too

On the side there is your favorite take out food and your favorite baked treats that you know Velvette made just for you

You see a note on the basket explaining she had to go finish a project and will be back in an hour

Velvette might not tell you how much she cares but she definitely tries to show it

Hi Darlin!

I had to go finish the outfits for my latest show! This one really is gonna be my best! I’m really gonna show all those cunts who’s on top! Anyway stay clear of Valentino’s floor if you decide to leave the penthouse fucking bastard is tearing the walls down over one of his whores. Anyways I’ll be back around 8! I have brand new couple pajama set we got to try on!

Kisses!

Velvette

[onlyjaeyun]

𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍 – 𝟓𝟎

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐘: 𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬

⤲ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⤲ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞!𝐀𝐔, 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐀𝐔, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

⤲ 𝐰𝐜: 𝟑.𝟑𝐤 (not proofread)

⤲ 𝐜𝐰: 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

"How is it going boys?"

Heeseung's voice is shaky and a lot hoarser than just a few moments ago, as the thought of finally doing what he's been daydreaming of for the past decade is actually about to become reality.

His eyes nervously roam the now fully decorated rooftop, the warm june breeze making everything a lot more bearable and for the first time in about twentyfour hour he feels like his lungs are actually filling with oxygen.

He knows you're not going to say no, it's something you've both discussed way too many times for people who have only been officially together for less than a year, yet the excitement, anxiety and feeling of being overwhelmed has definitely taken over his whole body in a way he's barely able to handle.

The thought of actually wifing you up, the way he's been joking around with it for all these months, is becoming way too real and for a short moment he can't help but wonder if it's really the right time.

But with your new apartment's keys in his bag and the contract signed, his new job as the department manager for one of Seoul's biggest companies secured and you both being so sure about it, he simply doesn't see the point in waiting any longer.

In fact, he's never been as sure about basically anything as he is about proposing to you.

"We're all set, Seung", Soobin, one of his coworkers and closer friends responds calmly, "just send us the message and we'll blow this place up."

"Stop saying it like that or we're going to get arrestedd,you stupid bitch", Yeonjun, the team's former number seven responds and for the first time in about thirty minutes Heeseung actually bursts into laughter.

As soon as those two hang up, the soon to be fiancé' turns around to look at his childhood friends who have decided to celebrate the evening with a beer, both of them meeting their best friend's gaze and shooting him two big smiles, reminding him just how grateful he is to have a found family like them.

And as your boyfriend is currently busy with something you have absolutely no suspicion of, you're thanking the people from the catering service for their hard work as you send them home with all the leftovers, trying your very best not to gag at combined smell of fish and beef.

Jungwon hasn't left your side all night, no matter how many times you've tried to get rid of him to avoid anybody's suspicions or just questions, your best friend has simply refused to do just that.

"When are you going to tell him?"

He says and looks at you with his pretty eyes, cheeks slightly flushed from the few glasses of wine he's had already and as your brain processes his question, you can't stop your lips from stretching into a big smile.

When you first realised just how much time it had been since you had last gotten your period, you didn't think much of it. Mostly because you've been used to the irregularity ever since you had started taking the pill a few months back and even before that your body was prone to skip a week or two whenever life got a little too stressful.

If it wasn't for the morning sickness you'd been feeling these past few days, you would have never thought of a possible pregnancy for another two months.

The walk to the pharmacy and back home as well as the whole process of taking the test had quickly become the longest hour of your life and as soon as the second line on your first test had appeared, your whole life changed in an instant.

By the time the third one came back positive as well you were already a sobbing mess as happiness, excitement, anticipation but also fear, worry and shock slowly took over your body.

For a really short moment you even let your anxiety take the best of your thoughts, yet as soon as you remembered your most recent conversation about the future, life after graduation as well as marriage and children, you managed to get rid of everything that wasn't joy or excitement.

You never once worried about your boyfriend's reaction because despite skillfully hiding it behind jokes and dirty talk, you know how badly Heeseung's been wanting to become a father from the very beginning. He never even tried to be subtle about it, all he did was wait for you to feel ready and even if you hadn't actually planned for it to happen until your own graduation, you're still just as excited and subconsciously ready for it as you would have been if it happened two or three years later.

Lee Heeseung is the love of your life, the man you you dreamed about ever since you actually understood the concept of love and there's absolutely nobody in this world you could ever imagine as the father of your children other than him.

And after a night of celebrating him and his best friends like this, you're pretty sure it's the perfect time to let him know about your upcoming addition to your little family.

"Hoonie said everyone's going to go up to the rooftop because the boys are setting up some blankets and stuff and I thought maybe I could make Seungie stay here with me for a bit and tell him when you're all upstairs."

Jungwon attentively listens to your plan, his smile as big as ever and you can't help but tear up at the sight of pride in his bright eyes. You've never seen him this happy and to think that he's actually going to move to Seoul and therefore be here throughout your whole pregnancy instead of having to wait three years until he finishes his degree makes it a lot more difficult to hold yourself back from crying.

Never in a million years would you have ever expected your first year away from your old life to be so perfect, yet despite all these years of abuse and agony, you've finally reached a point where life feels good and every day you wake up grateful and happy. The patience and hard work has definitely paid off.

"That sounds great", Jungwon says and pulls you into a tight hug, knowing you both will actually burst into tears if you look at him any longer, "but you should join us first and then take him downstairs. Wait for everyone to settle down or it'll be too obvious."

With a sharp nod you agree with your best friend, placing a quick kiss on his cheek before you let everyone know that you'll be with them in a bit, taking absolute advantage of your empty apartment as you finally pull out the little onesie in Heeseung's favorite color and the little #01 on its back as well as one of the positive pregnancy tests from your closet and allowing yourself to take a few deep breaths.

However, it doesn't take long for you to feel slightly overwhelmed because despite having realised it all already, you know telling your boyfriend about it is going to make it even realer than it currently feels, which is why you decide to try and distract yourself just a little longer by joining everyone upstairs.

You don't exactly know what to expect as you breathlessly and slowly climb the stairs to stop yourself from passing out, yet the last thing you expect is for the floor to be covered in rose petals as a road of little candles lights the way for you.

"What the–", but you don't get to finish as your favorite love song suddenly starts playing and all of your friends start cheering loudly.

It takes you a good minute to spot your boyfriend at the end of said candle way, holding onto a bouquet of your favorite flowers for dear life, his perfect lips stretched into a wide smile, eyes glossy and cheeks slightly flushed.

You don't even realise what the hell is going on and that you haven't moved an inch yet, until your best friend tells you to and with a thick veil of tears blurring your vision you finally start approaching the man of your dreams.

And as you slowly walk towards him, Heeseung can feel his heart thrumming in his throat, the blood rushing through his ears to the point where every single noise seems to ne way further sway than it is until you come to dtand right in front of him.

With a shaky hand he reaches for you and guides you to stand in front of your friends, your brother watching you with excited and proud eyes and if it wasn't for all the emotions you're currently feeling, you definitely would have noticed a single tear finding its way down his cheek.

"Park Y/N", Heeseung says calmly once the volume of the music slowly goes down, his voice shaky and everything about his demeanor gives away just how nervous he is, "my first and only love."

And as soon as those words hit you straight in the face, you physically can't stop a tiny sob bubbling up from your throat, genuine happiness and adrenaline making its way through your system at the realisation of what this actually is.

"Over a decade ago I fell in love with you, your warm heart and kind soul, those perfect eyes and your sweet smile. There has never been a day I didn't think of you and holding your hand right now still feels like a dream", your boyfriend's words are genuine and honest, something you've gotten used to yet still can't really process no matter how much time passes.

You try to calm yourself down once you notice the nervousness in your boyfriend's facial expressions, holding onto his hand just a little tighter before he hands you the bouqet and slowly moves his hand to reach for something in his back pocket.

"I've thought about this exact moment ever since I really understood what love meant and not a single time in my life have I associated it with anyone but you." With his smile still as big and bright, you attentively watch the love of your life pull out a little jewelry and just when your hands find their eay to your mouth, Heeseung slowly steps back to finally get on one knee.

A sight so beautiful you're genuinely afraid you might be dreaming.

"You're my childhood, my youth and my whole life. You're my home. Everything I have, everything I am belongs to you, including my heart and I want to spend the entirety of the rest of my life to become a man you can love and be proud of, who's worthy of your presence in his life."

At this point nobody among you and your friends can actually hold back their tears and for a short moment your gaze shifts to your older brother, who has been trying his best to keep it together but decided to finally give in at the sight of his two favorite people loving each other so dearly.

"Will you please make one of my biggest dreams come true and become my wife?"

Heeseung has lost count on how many times he's changed his lines and how many times he's practiced different versions of this exact speech in his head, in front of the mirror and under the shower. At one point he even started practicing it in front of the two elderly ladies at the company's cafeteria, yet at the end he still decided to just go with what his heart has to say.

Something he's never had problems with when it comes to you.

And as you slowly start nodding your head with tears streaming down your cheeks, he swears the whole world starts spinning in slow motion.

One of his biggest dream has finally become reality, a realisation hitting him so hard he actually forgets to move.

But there's no need for him to because by the time his mind catches up on what just happened, you've already thrown your arms around his shoulders with a soft sob multiple "Yes"s, quite literally pulling him back into reality.

The following minute is filled with nothing but silence from the both of you as you hold each other and take in the warmth of the happiness oozing from your shared moment.

Heeseung, who's basically overwhelmed with joy, drops on both of his knees as he's holding you in his arms and tries his best to keep his cries at bay.

And once you pull away to let him put the ring on your finger, the sudden sound of fireworks going off startles you in the best way possible, yet also elicits another soft cry from your lips.

"I told you I'm going to wife you up", Heeseung chuckles and places a soft kiss on your lips, his big hands holding your face like you're a piece of glass, so fragile he's afraid you'll break if he's too rough.

"And I told you I'm always ready for it."

Those words earn you a literal standing ovation from all of your friends, cheering and hollering from all of them exceot your brother, who's still as quiet as ever, yet never once stops to smile.

Heeseung doesn't hesitate to back away from you as soon as he spots Sunghoon approaching the two of you from the corner of his eyes and before either one of you can say something, you're pulled into another tight hug.

A hug which holds so many emotions, so many memories and so much love, you actually feel yourself drowning in it all in the best way possible.

"Congratulations", Hoonie whispers softly, too afraid of the possibility his voice might break if he spoke too loudly, "I'm so happy for you, little one. You deserve this and so much more."

At this point your pregnancy hormones and all those pent up emotions from the past few years have decided to team up, so you basically stand no chance in forming a coherent sentence which actually makes sense. All you can do is cry in your brother's arms as the realisation of you both finally living a life of peace and harmony has become true.

After a round of hugs, even more tears, from both the boys and the girls, as well as a fit of loud laughter because of Jongseong's random comment, you spend the following ten minutes in the arms of your new fiancé, your eyes either fixated on his face or the ring on your finger.

By the time you hug your brother one last time, it's way past two am and you can feel the exhaustion and tiredness taking over every bit of your body, yet know there's still a very important thing left to do for you.

After a nice long shower, the two of you quietly get ready for bed, Heeseung's hand always somehow touching you, a habit he's picked up along the way and you still giggle whenever you remember the reason being his mind not comprehending that you're actually here and his, so he had to make up for it with skinship.

"I actually wanted to fuck you to sleep just like you deserve but I'm afraid we're both too tired, hm?", Heeseung whispers into your ear as he wraps his arms around your waist and presses his strong chest into your back.

"Mhm", is all you can say as your heart slams brutally against your rib cage at the thought of the upcoming few minutes.

You don't even notice the way Heeseung's hand has found its way up your chest to your neck and as soon as he feels your rapid heartbeat, you find yourself being turned around to face your slightly worried fiancé.

"What's wrong?"

The question is the first one to come to his mind, something he's yet to get rid of since it's more of a trauma response than an actual question.

"I have to tell you something, Seungie."

"We've been engaged for less than two hours, please don't tell me you wanna call it off", he breathes and throws his head back, leaving you absolutely flabbergasted.

"Oh, my God", he suddenly says a little louder than you expected and with big eyes you watch him fall to his knees, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his head against your belly with a faux cry.

"Please, don't leave me, I'd be nothing but the shell of a man." And those words basically give you the rest. With a loud, ugly chuckle you push your hands into his hair and start shaking your head, knowing he's not serious but still reassuring him.

"Give me a second, will you?"

With curious eyes Heeseung slowly pulls away and watches the way you walk to your side of the bed and slowly oulling out a little box, bigger than the one for your ring he carried in his pants the whole night, before you make your way back to him with your grip way too tight.

"Open it", you say softly and try to drown out the loud beating of your heart in your throat, the feeling of having to throw suddenly overwhelming you and with a soft sigh you try to calm yourself down.

Seungie doesn't say anything as he takes the box from your hand and does as he's told, lifting the lid and revealing your little present to his big, glossy bambi eyes.

"What..."

A beat of silence follows the single word before he reaches for the pregnancy test and stares at it for way longer than necessary.

You have no idea what's going on inside of his head and for the first time ever since you've found out about your pregnancy you're actually anxious about his reaction.

What you're not awarenof is the way Heeseung's brain has yet to process what the fuck he's looking at, meanwhile his chest has filled with a warmth so comforting and calming, it actually feels dizzying.

You're pregnant.

You, the one woman he's loved all of his life, his now fiancé, are pregnant with his child.

The realisation feels like an actual dream and without giving it another thought, Heeseung lands a harsh slap against his own cheek to see if he's awake.

As the sting of his sweet attempt spreads in his face, the tears have already blurred his vision and with a single one finding it's way down his cheek he looks up at you.

"Oh, my God", a breathy chuckle of disbelief leaves his lips just before he gets up to be on eye level with you, his big hands reaching for your face to press your forehead against his and you still feel unsure until a row of soft sobs start filling the tension in your shared bedroom.

"We're actually going to be parents?"

All you can do is nod, choking on your own tears making it eay too difficult to respond verbally.

You've never seen this particular expression on Heeseung's face and as it reaches his pretty eyes you realise it's nothing but oure joy and excitement, maybe even a hint of relief.

"We're actually going to be fucking parents."

And as he gently wraps his around your body, Heeseung feels a wound in his heart slowly healing, a wound so deep he had managed to suppress it's pain all these years.

"This is the best day of my life", he whispers and inhales your sweet scent, his hand subconsciously moving to rub over your belly, "thank you so much. Thank you for healing me. Thank you for seeing me worthy of your love. Just – Thank you."

Heeseung doesn't give you the opportunity to respond as he pulls you into a passionate kiss, knowing everything he failed to voice out is going to reach your heart through this one kiss.

Not many words are exchanged between the two of you until you're burying your face in his neck, your eyes heavy from the exhaustion of the day, yet Heeseung makes sure to be the last one to speak just before you fall asleep.

"I love you so much. My first and only love."

(A/N: i'm not going to say much bc ive cried so much already and gotta save it for the epilogue injust hope you guys enjoyed this one and know how much i love and appreciate all of you. thank you for making this journey unforgettable and so, so special.)

TAGLIST CLOSED: @soonigiri @thvhannie @enhaz1 @kpoprhia @abrazosolorcereza @deobitifull @mixtape-racha @certifiedmoa @jungwon-xo @hoonieluv @enhamysunshines @jaehoonii @pussyslayerhd @ineedsomezzz @neocockthotology @heerinnie @onionzzzs @hee-pster @3amstarlight @xxxxrvexxxx @primroselover @mimikittysblog @iea-tsand @lhspeachie @xiaoderrrr @viagumi @smg-valeria @kells5595 @heeseunghee7 @xrvrqs @ddazed-lhs @heebrry @fakeuwus @dammit-jjk @ivyannemarie @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @s00buwu

[juniperxyz]

How Windbreaker men would be if they dated women like them

Context: A refresher from the generic trope of grumpy guy x sunshine girl where their lovers share the same traits and personalities as them, causing to bring out something besides their usual behaviour

Pairing: WB men x f!reader

Jay Jo x Reader

Wc: 1,067 words

Note: Uploading Jay's first because I started it before the poll finished

M A S T E R L I S T

“You'll pass out at this rate.”

“As a valedictorian? I hope so.”

Maybe it's believable that the school's most diligent boy would set his heart upon an equally diligent girl; both excelling in studies, ranking first in sports, and exceeding the charts in the looks department.

But the difference most didn't expect would be in their passions.

Jay leant against the wall, his shoulders drooping as exhaustion weighed him down. Call him arrogant, but he never thought he'll want to hit the bed faster than her.

“11 in the night….”,he sighed, straining to keep his vision focused. It was three weeks into the new semester, and the books still held his girlfriend hostage. The schedule for the exams hasn't even been created, and yet she was already skimming through every past paper.

“Sleep is for the weak.”,she slurred, rubbing her throbbing temples. For all the organization habits she so tediously lived by, they seem to have taken a break as plates, notepads, pen holders and stained mugs congested around her laptop and weary hands. Contrary to the psychotic degree of perfection others held them to, the two were more prone to slip up than anyone else. They were skillful enough to ensure no one hears a whisper about them, but exempted each other from hiding their vulnerabilities.

But with the helplessness he felt, Jay wished she too hid this from him, lest he's forced to keep seeing her in misery.

His other vulnerability was also his dramaticness, which is why he shoved his worries, shoved himself off the wall, and approached the woman from behind. Y/N already rolled her eyes as his shadow grew larger, until she straightened her spine and swiveled to level him with a glare, “If you're gonna lecture me ag-”

But no lecture sprouted from his mouth, instead his arms extended around her head, colliding it against his chest, oddly close enough to feel his racing heartbeat. She sputtered in confusion, a hindrance that lack of sleep teased her with, before she gave in to his whims reluctantly.

“You're an amazing woman.”,she blinked slowly as he pressed a soft kiss on her crown, “A truly outstanding person, I'm glad I get to be with you.”

An awkward silence rolled by the couple, having the woman rack her brains for a possible reason, “Did Dom spike your drink again.”

True, emotionless was his primary attitude to most of his relationships. That didn't however include the most cherished one he possessed.

“You…worry me.”,he wasn't good with words, but it didn't stop him from speaking his heart, “I see you and I get scared.”

Her shoulders slumped as if on cue, forehead leaned against his shirt as a deep sigh left her chest. “It's just I'm worried‐”

“I'm willing to score less if it will make you content.”,after a moment of hesitation, his hand smoothed her hair, ignorant to her astonished scowl, “It will be one less competition to worry about. Maybe you can rest.”

“Are you insane?”,she smacked his arms away, dismissing her neck cramps as she craned up with an incredulous look, “Don't disregard your studies over something stupid.”

His brows furrowed, irritation bypassing his unemotional facade with ease, “But you're stressing too much on grades, I can help by-”

“Do you think I only do this to get validation?”,she guffawed, pushing herself backwards, “That I only work hard for people's approval or something?”

An irritated huff escaped his lips. He was too tired to argue, “Y/N, you gotta see it from my‐”

“I do it so I can compete with you.”

His eyebrows rose, surprise etched into his face as he inspected her vexed scowl.

“There's no joy in fighting so hard when my main opponent wants to back out. I get inspired and motivated by you, I wanna beat you.”,she stated in a low voice, “It doesn't matter if I hold your hand in victory or defeat when it means I competed beside you…”

Though Jay spoke nothing, the air was heavy with emotions as each simply gazed into each other's eyes, suppressing the urge to spill their hearts and feelings before the other.

“No one's as stubborn as you…”,he sighed, though his lips quirked up in a grin.

Her eyes peeled off him, a light blush tinting her cheeks, “There's you.”

The man shrugged his shoulders in mock defeat, “Sadly, I found my first opponent.”

She shot back a glare that failed miserably, and a strong tug dragged her off the chair and tumbled her into her sheets, with a variety of pillows being chucked off as straightened herself, “What's up with you?”

“Not up, down.”,he stated plainly, flapping the blanket before it fluttered over their bodies, “We're laying down, going to bed.”

“You're gonna write papers for me?”,she snorted, scowling as he draped an inescapable arm around her torso.

“Plenty. Expect many professing my love for you.”

Her frown deepened as her blush brightened, prompting the man to smirk as she swiveled around, before he brought her closer with his arm-cage.

“You can't compete with me if you're not in good health.”,he whispered, face sinking into her long hair, “It's no use fighting for grades if you're fighting against your body.”

She opened her mouth to bark another retort, when his next words left hers hanging.

“And I hate to see my own motivation and inspiration wither away before we can even compete.”,he placed a chin on her shoulder, lips trailing along her jawline, “It's a lonely road to the top.”

Knowing her reservedness prevented all responses, the man nuzzled his chin into the crook of her neck, and purred in satisfaction, “And that's why, I need you beside me.”

Need. She always categorized all her wants as needs. Need for academic excellence, Need for astounding athleticism, need for a one prim and proper reputation of herself.

But it was the first time she heard of her as a need. Not for the expectations imposed by her parents, nor the plethora of notes and advice sought by her teachers, but just….her?

People around prophesied something grandiose and impactful, like their graduation ceremony or her college acceptance, could succeed in revealing a sliver of emotion. But the measly half muffled words of her boyfriend were the ones that glazed her eyes with tears. Joyful tears.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Ever since I had my top surgery, I've been thinking about how it so cleanly made me dismiss some terf talking points that I'd just kinda...internalized.

I'll admit that before my surgery, even though I knew how much I wanted it, I was nervous. I was scared I might regret having a major surgery for elective reasons. I'd seen so many terf arguments about how surgery won't cure body dysmorphia and it wouldn't make me feel better about my body. I was even worried that I might have hormonal disregulation afterwards!

And I genuinely cannot emphasize enough how much none of that was true. The first thing I remember after waking up from surgery was this overwhelming feeling of peace that it was over. It's never fun to see incisions and scary things like skin grafts on your own body, but I was a bit shocked by how normal my chest felt literally right away. This wasn't just relief about how it would be easier to pass, either - I got very lucky in that department and I've been passing since high school. To add to that, I was very small-chested; the surgery took off less than half a pound of tissue total. I was able to pass as cis even without binding. The relief I felt wasn't just a matter of convenience.

It's just like - terfs love to say that people transition for reasons like privilege and power. All of these convoluted reasons why people would do something that feels incomprehensible to them. But this surgery has made me feel so at peace, because instantly this huge source of stress and pain was just gone. My chest feels so normal on my body, to the point where I even have a hard time believing what it used to look like. If you told me I'd been born like this and I'd just dreamed up the whole boob thing, I'd believe you.

This is just what my body was always supposed to look like.

[violetasteracademic]

On Being a Published Writer: Without a Degree

This is a bit of a vulnerable share today, and I am writing it after a sleepless night, the monster of anxiety and shame weighing heavily on my chest. However, I have come far in life and undergone an incredible amount of healing, and refuse to be ashamed of my past. I hope sharing this can help even one person like me remember that when it comes to craft, when it comes to art, the only thing stopping you from being worthy is you.

This year, I became a published writer. After years of hard work and dedication to my craft, I finally felt good enough to begin submitting my work to literary magazines. I'm proud of that accomplishment. It's a little tag I get to add to my bio now as I submit work that helps make me feel *valid.* But that quickly, all it takes is for someone to remind me that I did not have access to a degree, that I did not learn from the best, and I will spend the rest of my life without a formal education behind my writing, and they achieve the goal they set out: to make me feel less than for not having their background.

In America, the education system is for profit and public school system inconsistent. There are many factors that can contribute to whether or not a person gets through it successfully, and it often has little to do with intelligence, work ethic, or strength of character and drive before the age of 18.

So here is my story:

I graduated high school with a 2.1 GPA.

My first hospitalization (out of the 17 I would have in my life) for edometriomas happened at age 15. I spent the majority of high school struggling with chronic pain, stage four endometriosis and the accompanying endometriomas cysts, and illness. By age 16, social services was threatened by my school to be called on my home for suspected neglect and abuse. I moved out of my house that year, and was given temporary guardianship by a friends family.

By the end of my senior year, I continued to bounce around between friends houses, sometimes sleeping in my car, and struggled to keep on top of my coursework. I was enrolled in the work study program designed for students who had to keep a job during their high school years, and earned school credits for staying employed.

Despite all of this, I still maintained high grades in Advance Placement literature and language, proceeded to get 5's on my AP tests (a perfect score, and a rare accomplishment) as well as near perfect scores on my ACT's. I spent every spare second reading and writing from the moment I learned how. My intelligence and comprehension were not the issue. My health and my home life were.

The only reason I got into college at all was because I decided to audition for a school play freshman year. Much to my surprise, I was cast in the lead role, and thus the course of my life was set. I poured everything I had into acting, I finally had a purpose and something to keep me out of having to go home after school. Still, applying for colleges was one of the most stressful and shame inducing experiences of my life. I got into many top performance programs in the country, then would not get into the university itself with my GPA. The conservatories that did not look into school performance did not provide the financial assistance required for me to attend.

There was one university that offered limited talent admissions that would allow the university admission requirements to be overlooked for students that had displayed exceptional talent in their specialized field of study. I had to put together a request for the school board, complete with letters from my high school teachers providing context for my low GPA paired with high test scores, character assessments on my likely ability to maintain the minimum required GPA in college, as well as a letter from the head of the performing arts department of the university stating that I was worthy of this talent exception. The wait was unbearable. But I was accepted. And I was approved for the work study program that allowed me to gain employment at the university to help offset the cost.

I felt like my whole life had changed in college. I had gotten in. I had gotten out. I was a new person, no one knowing about my past or the stain of my struggles. I had a fresh start. While I continued to battle my illness throughout college, it was manageable with a consistent bed to sleep in every night, as well as access to physical and mental health services. And although I tested out of being required to take any English classes with AP, I still filled my elective credits with writing classes. Screenwriting, playwriting, poetry, creative writing. Performing became my work, and writing became my joy. I took every class that sounded remotely interesting, often filling my schedule more than required on top of my work and performance load.

I am withholding some of the more personal details of my life, but when I finally moved out to LA, I hit the ground running. I accomplished more in a few years than fellow artists and performers who had been out there for more than a decade. And I valued every person I met. I was in small, independent theatre shows with Juliard grads. I was on professional sets with wildly naturally talented people working to get their GED with no formal education but that undeniable *it* factor. People from all walks of life set out for the Angel City to make it, and I was one of them. I also began writing again, this time short films and audition monologues. I began writing pieces for friends and classmates at their request. I secured my first talent agent with a performance piece that I wrote, along with an offer to renegotiate my contract to include literary representation should I complete a script worth shopping. I began to organize applications for writing fellowships at top studios, when my condition became so severe the only option to move forward with my life was surgery. And then my life completely changed again.

I came out of that surgery with nerve damage that left me unable to walk for six months, as well as developed a new permanent nervous system disorder.

My career and my life never recovered. I was permanently changed. However, during that time, I turned one of my sci-fi short films I had written into a 160k word novel, with outlines for a trilogy. While it was one of the darkest times of my life, writing got me through it. I moved out of Los Angeles to a more affordable city and threw myself into writing. I learned that ivy league schools like Stanford, Harvard, and Yale shared their syllabi for continued study coursework online, including the required textbooks for the courses. Example here. I took myself through the textbooks and coursework of top schools, I took every local workshop possible when it was in budget. Any education on craft that was within my means, I reached for.

I will never be able to change the course of my life. I will likely never be able to go back to school. However, this amazing video by Bandon Sanderson helped me overcome my shame, my lack of access to returning to higher education when my life and career were irrevocably changed: Be Anything But an English Major

I had already done what he had encouraged, pick a subject I was passionate about, fill my college coursework with things I found interesting, and let it inform my writing. While this is not to disrespect or degrade English majors or say successful authors think the degree is worthless, I am simply sharing to say this video helped ME combat against English majors who made me feel worthless for not having access to their diploma.

So to anyone feeling insecure today, you do not need a degree in the arts. Whether you want to be an author, an actor, a painter, a fashion designer, a poet. And I say this as someone whose greatest privilege and joy in life was getting a performing arts degree.

We must continue to prioritize art being accessible, value diverse backgrounds, and wish for it to be open and available to all. We must continue to treat art as subjective, and reject ideals that learning from a certain set of paid individuals makes all other opinions, choices, or ideas invalid.

There is no dollar amount I could give to a piece of paper that would make my mind, my intelligence, and my ability to organize and understand words in an impactful way that would make me more valid than I am today. There is no degree that could replace my work ethic, my empathy, my desire to write stories to do good. To give something to the world and help people survive in the ways that I had needed to survive.

Maybe I'll tell this story again one day, and it will help another young person with my background believe there may be more in life than the cards they were dealt. Maybe this will be the first and last time sharing these words. Maybe I'll never get another piece published, but will continue to write fanfic and poetry and prose pieces to share on the internet for free because I believe in my heart it is valuable. To look at myself, and my work, and deem myself worthy of my efforts and passion.

I am proud to be a member of the community of published writers without a degree.

I am even more proud to be a member of online fandoms full of writers, artists, creators, contributors and more who give their free time and energy towards something that does nothing more than make others happy.

So,

to the people who look at the stars and wish.

to the stars who listen— and the dreams that are answered,

this one is for you.

[leavesfallensparse]

Cigarettes & Wine | M. Healy | 1

'I want a photo of you in my bed, to carry with me when I go out west.'

In which Sadie and Matty have a very brief, very awkward, and very anxious encounter, Sadie gets very flustered but quickly finds herself fitting in with the group of rowdy boys and too many feelings are felt for her teenage brain.

warnings: drug use, implied alcoholism, implied parental neglect, my sweet angel sadie being a sweet angel.

word count: 8.5k

a/n: soo .. hiiii! i am juniper and im begging you guys bear with me i have Never posted on here before. BUUUUTT i am vvvv nervous and excited to be posting this but it's been in the works for tooooo long. begging and screaming to be let out of the word doc its been confined to. so here we are i guess. pls enjoy sadie and matty they are my Children. if the title wasn't hint enough.. this is only part one.

Sadie has had the most stressful morning of her entire life. Her tie is untied around her neck and the only thing she cares to grab hold of is her camera. Her entire life is on that thing, and although she may be merely 14, her camera is her child. She hears her mother huffing at the bottom of the stairs and straightens up to catch a look of herself in the mirror, a mess, as she suspected. Her shirt is buttoned up wrong, her skirt is half tucked into her tights, she has on one Mary Jane and her backpack’s contents are strewn messily across her bedroom floor. With some swear words muttered along the way she is in the car within five minutes and her mum is chewing her out for being late to her first day of Year 10, which she couldn’t really care less for.

“I’ll see you tonight, mum! Love you!” Sadie slams the car door before she can hear her mums reply and heads into the school she’s grown to know quite well. She’s fallen into a friend group with some girls that she thinks will do for her high school endeavours, but Sadie already knows she’s destined for bigger than the small town of Wilmslow. Somebody else who thinks this way is Matty Healy, the boy who’s just gone into Year 11. Sadie has noticed him before, they both tend to frequent the music department, Sadie finds it visually appealing for her photo collection, whereas Matty finds it appealing to the ears, especially his own guitar strumming. Any time their paths cross Sadie bows her head and pretty much runs in the opposite direction, face as red as the wine her mum drinks when the sky gets dark.

As Sadie enters the front of the school she signs in late at the front and heads to her class, putting her camera in her backpack as she approaches her English class. She sighs and opens the door with stuttered apologies for being late, Sadie might be confident and come across as such but that doesn’t mean her 14 year old brain isn’t scared of high school teachers and their strictness. She stumbles to her seat and sits down, accidentally throwing her bag at her feet once she gets out the book the class are in the middle of silently reading. Even though she doesn’t know why the class is reading on the first day she’s thankful for it because it lets her mind wander, her dreams of being a famous photographer is what her mind favours over ‘A Tale Of Two Cities’, Sadie finds Dickens to be boring. She prefers the Brontë sisters.

When lunchtime finally rolls around Sadie is where she can normally be found, the music department. Her camera is lazily slung around her neck, her backpack having been left with her friends in the library. She favours avoiding the gossip for finding inspiration in the usual practice rooms, the ones she hasn’t found inspiration in for a while now. She spent every day before the Summer holidays begging whoever might be looking down on her for something to take a photo of. Somebody else had been wandering the same corridors as Sadie. Everyone in her year talks about Matty Healy, “the boy in the year above with a natural affinity for the guitar he’s always carrying around the school carried a naturally mysterious air.” Sadie can’t think of a single girl in her year who wasn’t utterly obsessed with every move of Matty Healy. Including herself, even if she’s very hesitant to admit it, an admirer from afar per se. She likes to think of him more in the sense of ‘his appearance is inspiring to her camera’.  Sadie was looking down at her feet, frowning at the scuffed shoes she wore for the entirety of Year 9 when she felt a larger figure bump into her. As she looks up and sees Matty with a guitar case in his hand she can’t help the pink tint that rises on her cheeks.

“Oh! Erm, sorry!” Sadie somehow manages to force the words out of her mouth. She seems to have the same shyness about her when talking to Matty that she does when looking her English teacher in the eye. An interesting discovery. She loses herself in overthinking the tone she just took with Matty when she hears him reply to her, something she wasn’t expecting in the slightest.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t paying attention, my bad.” He meets her eyes and genuinely seems like he couldn’t care less about her mistake, he seems to take more notice of her camera, his head tilts and his eyes squint in the direction of it hanging limply on her neck. She seems to grow more confident in herself when she realises he’s looking at her camera, she knows she’s good at photography, that’s something she could talk about endlessly. Matty lifts a finger and points to said camera. “You any good?”

Her eyes widen slightly at the question, and she clears her throat at the same time her head begins incessantly nodding, she is acting crazy. She then begins to overthink her nodding. Why is she overthinking so much? Maybe she’s just having an off-day. She decides that she nodded like that because she knows she’s a great photographer, why would she not be overconfident about it? Seems normal enough.

“Cool. Can I see any?” This is when Sadie’s heart rate picks up. She doesn’t know why; she doesn’t want to know why. She also does not want to know why he is asking her this. Matty’s question has sent her brain into full blown panic mode, maybe she does want to know why he’d like to see her photos. What could possibly intrigue him about her? The squint tie around her neck? Her incredibly dirty Mary Janes? In her 14-year-old brain she decides he fancies her. She’d come to find out in many, many years that she was, in fact, right.

“If you want? I’m bringing my hard drive tomorrow for my art class, they’re letting me use my photos this year, meet me at the library?” She says this with a coy smile on her face, in her head she is feeling a lot less coy because of the way Matty is smirking at her. What she doesn’t know is that he is looking down at her with a smirk because her face is so red that he thinks there’s something wrong, maybe it was something he’d said? After a beat of silence, he blinks down at her with a nod, and they bid their goodbyes. Once Sadie is sure Matty has turned the corner she lets out a silent squeal before quickly bolting to the school’s library and sitting down at the table her friends are at, she might not view them in any light, but they do love gossip. She takes a moment to catch her breath before turning to her friend sat beside her, “Matty Healy wants to see my photos. I have no idea why.”

Suffice to say Sadie didn’t sleep a wink that night. She sneaked through to her dad’s office to edit photos on the family computer at midnight when she was sure everyone was sleeping and when she was sure the photos were on her hard drive she went back to bed and tried to sleep. Unsuccessfully. She then had to drag herself to school the next morning, early, to meet Matty before classes. She had no energy to even be nervous, the eyebags on her face spoke for themselves. She all but flopped down on the seat next to the boy who held in his laugh at the sight of her. “Don’t laugh! I had to edit some of these photos before you saw them, and my bloody dad wouldn’t get off the computer last night, so I had to do it after he was sleeping! Anyways, wanna see?” When Matty nods with a smile she rifles through her backpack for her hard drive.

After silently looking through her photos for, like, three whole minutes, Matty turns to Sadie with a single nod. “So, I’m in a band. I think they’d love these. How about you come to our next practice and take some photos of us? See if they like what you do?” Sadie is now a mere puddle in her computer chair. She doesn’t speak in fear of her mouth betraying her, what would she even say? She nods for a while; she doesn’t know how long she nods for, but she knows it’s been a while.

“Yup, sounds good. Yeah, cool. Cool. Where do you guys practice?” Sadie doesn’t know what the fuck is coming out of her mouth. She is word vomiting all over Matty’s shoes. She wants to apologise but she isn’t sure she remembers the English language. Why is she so nervous? Oh, probably just because the guy that every single one of her peers fawns over is currently asking her to make him and his bandmates her next subject of inspiration. Her next muse. What even is her life.

“At my house. I’ll write the address down for you, hang on.” Sadie’s mouth has gone dry. Now she’s truly forgotten the English language. This can’t be real, and this certainly can’t be happening to Sadie. Matty Healy is writing down his home address for her to have. Not to even mention his literal famous mum and dad. She reaches her hand under the computer desk and pinches her thigh over her wool tights, it doesn’t hurt but she’s now sure this is actually happening. Sadie takes the paper from Matty and tries to process the date and time he’s reciting at her. They’re interrupted by the morning bell and when Matty holds the library door open for her she waves goodbye, bows her head and speedwalks away from him.

Sadie really tries to focus in her classes that day but it doesn’t work in the slightest, all she can think about is Matty Healy and she curses him for it. She tries to read some romance novel when she gets home but she starts picturing the characters as her and Matty and has to put it down. He has unknowingly taken over her brain, and she resents him for it. Can’t a girl even read in peace?! She took pride in being the only girl in her year who didn’t have a crush on Matty, now she can’t even hold that above his head.

By the time Friday rolls around Sadie is already over school, she never tended to like school, but she already knows that Year 10 is going to be dreadful. The one saving grace might come in the form of a boy in the year above. She leaves school and runs home to get changed before she heads to Matty’s address. She has cherished the crumpled piece of paper that held his address since she got it on Tuesday morning, she taped it to her mirror and that is where it will stay. It isn’t like she hasn’t come home every night from school and studied it, she knows exactly where she’s going.

Her shaky hand knocks on the door of said address about an hour later, she biked over from her house and actually enjoyed the ride, the early September sun was shining on her face and lighting up the bumpy country road she took to get here. Her thoughts are interrupted by a lively woman, quite aggressively, swinging the front door open. Sadie smiles up at her with squint eyes because of the sun attacking them, making the blue of her irises look probably insane. “Um, hi? I’m Sadie, Matty invited me to watch his band practice and take some photos of them.” Sadie lazily points to the camera around her neck with an awkward smile. She is coming across very poorly. But alas the woman opens the door wider.

“Oh! He never mentioned, he doesn’t tend to tell me these things though, typical teenager! I’m Matty’s mum, just call me Denise though, sweetheart. They should be in the garage.” Denise walks Sadie to the garage door where she can hear the loud laughter of teenage boys and obnoxious drumbeats. She smirks slightly and thanks Denise, accepting her offer of a can of coke. Once she takes it she enters the garage, and the laughter dies down. “Sadie’s here, boys, she’s very lovely so I don’t want to hear of any teasing or making fun.”

Sadie looks down at her feet as Denise defends her, even though the boys haven’t yet uttered a word. She hears the garage door close behind her and Matty gestures her over to him. He very casually, like it’s nothing, throws an arm over her shoulder and begins introducing her to the three other boys in his garage. She already knows George from a couple of her classes due to them being in the same year, but she lets Matty speak at her anyways. “So, Sades, this is Adam, he plays guitar and he's in the year above me, basically he’s old. That’s Ross, he does the bass, but I think he just pretends to know what he’s doing. And that’s George, obviously he plays the drums, but he just makes a fucking racket.” Sadie flushes at how casually he gestures, how casually his arm is around her, how casually he swears, and how casually he calls her ‘Sades’. That’s a new one.

“Um, hi, I’m Sadie it’s nice to meet you guys. Matty was singing your guys’ praise on Tuesday morning. Been looking forward to this since.” Sadie’s forearm has suddenly become very itchy, and she busies herself in looking around the garage in an attempt to avoid eye contact with any of the aforementioned boys. She notices a few posters on the exposed walls and a couple of guitar cases strewn across the floor, the last thing she notices is a battered leather couch against the wall, facing all of the boys and their many instruments and poor cable management. Sadie leaves Matty’s side and takes a seat on it, placing her coke on the floor and taking the lens cap off her camera.

The practice is well under way and Sadie’s mind has been racing with thoughts of how she’d shoot the band at an actual show. She finally gains the courage to stand up and has failed to notice Matty’s eyes on her the entire time he’s been singing. None of the other boys seem to notice either, Matty doesn’t even realise what he’s doing. When they finish up the last song they wanted to practice (for probably the tenth time), they start chatting about things they should do differently, and Sadie busies herself by looking at her photos on the couch. She gets caught up in them and doesn’t feel the sofa sink next to her, she looks up and sees George looking over her shoulder. “Any good photos of me?”

Sadie can’t help the pink on her face as she nods and turns her camera to him, showing him the few photos she got of him. She found it difficult to get good angles of George considering the size of the garage they were practising in, him being shoved into the back corner. As George was flicking through photos Sadie couldn’t help but study his face, his brows were slightly furrowed as he fiddled with the buttons on her camera, not knowing how to work it. He smirked at a few photos and his eyes scanned over the rest, when he looked up Sadie was suddenly very interested in the opening of her can of coke. She has no idea why she can’t look at any of the boys without her heart rate picking up and her face going bright pink. Maybe because she thinks they’re actually quite cool and she has no idea why she would possibly be sitting in Matty’s garage with them all. But she is.

The next time she has a run in with the band is a week and a half later when they all spot her in the lunch hall and wildly gesture her over. She had spotted them first and tried to look around to avoid them. She really wishes she knew why her subconscious was forcing her away from the boys. (She’s terrified she’ll embarrass herself. That’s why). She gets herself together and heads over to the table they’re sat at, awkwardly placing her bag at her feet. She murmurs something that could be perceived as a “hi” but honestly it could have been anything. “Have you edited the photos yet? We are highly anticipating them.” Sadie nods her head excitedly, glad that the topic is on her photos, something she actually is passionate about.

“Yeah! Yeah, they’re on a hard drive that you guys can have, I forgot to bring it with me today though. I’ll bring it tomorrow?” Matty nods and falls into conversation with the boys, who also include Sadie, sitting there helpless, unsure if she should get up and go to her friends. She dares to glance in their direction and when she sees them blowing fake kisses because of the curly haired boy she’s sat with she rolls her eyes and turns back around. She reminds herself that they are her surface level friends, they have nothing in common whatsoever, they’re too caught up in gossip. Sadie is too caught up in her camera. They don’t gel.

Sadie manages to fall into a conversation with Ross about English and their mutual enjoyment for the subject, she finds it incredibly random but she’s glad to have something in common with one of the boys. She relished in the conversation not being surface level drama that brought a yawn out of her throat, she also relishes in her slight ranting about her passions actually being listened to. Sadie likes Ross and his listening skills. When the bell rings she finds herself bewildered at the fact she doesn’t want to get up from the table, she’d quite like to stay and timidly laugh at the boys’ jokes and general noisiness. But, alas, she must head to the aforementioned English class, she makes a joke to Ross about how she’d rather go anywhere else. They share a hatred for Sadie’s teacher, him having had her for the previous school year. She finds herself falling into step with George, they’re already five minutes late.

They wave a goodbye to the rest of the boys who all disperse into different classes and walks silently with George. They pass by a few people that make them share glances to each other, grimaces present on their faces. Anytime this happens they both laugh and shove into one another until they reach the fated English hallway and George reaches into his bag and pulls out two sheets of handwritten papers. Sadie’s face basically turns into a question mark. “What? It’s the homework?” Upon seeing Sadie’s heart basically fall to her toes George can’t help but let out a baffled laugh. “Don’t tell me you haven’t done it.”

“Shit, George.”

The colder the weather gets the more Sadie begins to feel like an integral member of the group. She’s the one to tell the boys to shut up when they’re talking too loudly. She’s the one to shove Matty anytime he makes another member of the group the butt of his jokes. She’s also the one to tell him when his singing sounds shit. Sadie has been quite the talk of the town recently because of this, her old friends are spreading all kinds of rumours due to her gradually dropping them in favour of the boys. Although anytime Ross catches wind of these in the school corridors he’s quick to shut it down, whether it be defending her or physically getting involved… at least he's there!

The band are meeting up for their last practice before Christmas Day and Sadie is beside herself with excitement, she hasn’t seen the boys since the school broke off for the holidays on the 17th. She wakes up that morning already excited but when she opens her curtains and sees snow she swears under her breath, she couldn’t possibly drag her bikes weak tyres through the thick snowfall. So, she slides her panda slippers onto her feet and heads downstairs, finding her mum in the kitchen with a cup of tea and a cigarette in hand. “Morning, mum! Would you be able to give me a lift to Matty’s later? I was gonna bike over, but it must’ve snowed pretty hard last night.” When she hears the sigh escape her mum’s mouth and the slight thud of her palm on the counter she knows she’s not getting a lift.

Denise was expecting Sadie, she’d grown to expect the young girl’s presence around the house at any given time. But what Denise wasn’t expecting was to open up the door to Sadie, bike in hand, tears staining her bright red cheeks, and no hat on her head. This just wouldn’t do. “Oh! Sadie, sweetheart, what happened? Come in, out of the cold now, just dump the bike, that’s fine. Why did you bike here?” Sadie tries to speak but her brain seems to think that letting a sob rack her body is the smarter way to go about this.

“Mum wouldn’t give me a lift, said she had more important things to be seeing to. Had no choice.” Denise immediately puts the kettle on and wraps the girl up in a blanket, rubbing her shoulders after forcing her to take a seat at the kitchen island. Sadie can hear the boys upstairs and is glad of Denise calming her down and talking to her before she has to face them. After Denise gives her a telling off for not, at least, putting on a scarf, she turns to Sadie with an eyebrow raised. She just sighs. “She does this all the time. Feel like a nuisance at that house. Always in the way.”

Upon hearing this Denise circles the kitchen island and crowds her into a hug which she can’t help but accept. After a beat of silence occasionally broken up by Sadie’s sniffles, the two part, Denise keeping her at arm’s length. “You shouldn’t feel like a nuisance. Listen, any time you come here I’m delighted, probably because you balance the testosterone levels a bit, but not just that, you’re the kindest young lady I’ve ever gotten to meet, and it’s always a pleasure to have you at the house, you keep my boys in check. Now, if you ever feel like this again, phone my number from your house phone, and I’ll come pick you up, can’t have you biking in the snow anymore.”

Sadie nods her head at Denise’s words, letting out a slightly weepy laugh anytime she makes a dig at the boys. She feels strangely warm inside, despite the subzero temperatures she was just faced with, and she doesn’t know why. She’s never felt safer than when Denise took her hand on the kitchen island. Matty’s house is now her safe space she’s decided. Speak of the devil, Sadie hears a clatter from the stairs behind her and when she turns she sees Matty’s eyes light up. “Sades! You made it! I thought you weren’t gonna come because of this snow, glad to see you though, George is chatting shit about your English teacher again. Something about holiday homework, help me take some juice up?”

Sadie takes the blanket with her and with a smile in Denise’s direction she waddles over to the fridge. She makes sure to finish her tea before grabbing a can of coke. Another thing she likes about the Healy house is the constantly stocked fridge, anytime she needs a drink there seems to be one on hand. Almost akin to Mary Poppins handbag. She takes one of the cans Matty is juggling with a giggle and bids goodbye to Denise before heading up the stairs. Matty entertains this journey by telling her that his dad had taken Louis, his younger brother, out to build a snowman a half hour ago and Sadie laughs at the image of his rosy cheeks and tiny hands grasping at snowflakes. She dotes on Louis, always having wanted a younger sibling, she treats him like her own brother.

When the door to Matty’s bedroom opens she smiles at the sight, three boys strewn across the room in one big, lazy mess. They all seem to perk up at the sight of Sadie, George especially. “Thank fuck you’re here, need help with this homework, my mum told me to have it finished before Christmas. And Ross, miserable bastard, is refusing to help me. Have you done it?” Sadie sets down Adam’s can of coke on the desk, cracking her own open before sitting criss-cross on the floor beside George. She nods at him over the can, and he can’t help but cheer and push it towards her, struggling on the carpet. “You’re so much better than me at English. Read what I have.” She sets down her can and skims over what George has written.

“Oh dear, I’ll help you after practice.” At this the boys all glance at each other and the room falls silent. Did she say something? I mean, they’re here for practice, right? Right. Sadie has just missed it, her treacherous journey to the Healy house took longer than usual, and she left late. “Have you already practiced?” When faced with four nodding boys, Sadie sighs and nods too. “That’s okay, we can just hang out, then.” Matty looks at her with a sympathetic grimace. He overheard more of her conversation with his mum than he originally let on.

Matty decides that changing the subject entirely is the best thing he can do in this situation, he doesn’t want to force her to talk about why she was crying to his mum. “We liked the most recent photos you took, really cool. Think you left some of your ones for art on the hard drive, there was a random shot of some leaf in the middle of Ross’ closeups.” Sadie shakes her head, feeling her eyes roll involuntarily. “I mean it was a good leaf photo, I just don’t think it’s our vibe.” Her head is thrown back in a giggle as she takes another sip of her coke.

“You should consider yourself lucky, getting to see my leaf photos. They are very close to my heart.” All Matty can do at this is scoff, he is now the one rolling his eyes. Sadie’s attention is diverted by a sheet of paper being waved in her face. She turns to George with a slight glare, and he backs into himself a bit. “Fine. What do you not understand? It’s just English.”

“I just don’t get it. English doesn’t make sense, I think you’ve forgotten that I am a well-travelled man, Sadie. I’ve been all over the place.” Sadie fixes the boy with a sigh, a straight-faced sigh. She lets his sentence linger in the air as she readjusts on the bedroom floor. She lays on her front as she reads what George has written. It’s not bad, but it’s also not great. And so, she tells him such.

“I mean, it’s not bad, but it’s not great. You could maybe, I don’t know, sprinkle in an adjective here or there, don’t think that would hurt.” Is all she manages to get out before a pillow is lobbed, quite forcefully, at her head. In retaliation she throws the paper back at George. “Well, you can do it yourself then, can’t you?”

“No, no, no! Sadie I didn’t mean it! My hand slipped!”

As the day turned to night the boys gradually left until it was just Matty and Sadie left sitting on his floor, sharing chips that Denise had cooked for them. Sadie put one in her mouth and glanced out the window, noticing it was snowing again, the sigh that came out of her mouth wasn’t meant to sound quite as pathetic as it did. Matty stopped strumming on his guitar and turned to her with furrowed brows, at the sudden silence she met his eyes. “I can’t bike home in this weather.”

“Why did you even bike here in the first place? And why were you crying?” Sadie shakes her head and breaths out a laugh. How does she even answer this? She could be honest, lay her cards on the table, and tell him all about her mum. Or she could be partially honest and tell him that her mum just doesn’t make time for her. Or she could blatantly lie, she’s on her period or something like that. As she weighs up her options she lets out a barely audible hum and Matty cocks his head at her.

“It’s just my mum. She never makes time for me. Refused to give me a lift and I didn’t want to cancel so I biked here. That’s all, I’m okay now, spending time with you guys makes me okay.” Matty’s head falls to rest on Sadie’s shoulder silently. He doesn’t know what to say to her, so he just starts strumming the guitar again. A smile rests on Sadie’s slightly pink cheeks as she hums along to the song Matty is playing, she doesn’t know it to name, but she definitely knows it. “I didn’t think I’d actually make friends in high school.” Matty doesn’t say anything for a minute, processing Sadie’s words.

“Of course you were gonna make friends. I think you’re too good to just be our friend, frankly I’m shocked you put up with our bullshit.” Another beat of silence falls upon the pair. “Just come here if your mum’s being a pain, we’ll cheer you right up.” Sadie smiles at this and feels tears brimming her eyes, and she doesn’t know why. At the sudden sound of the door opening Matty lifts her head and Sadie rubs at her eyes.

“Right, Sadie, I’ve just tried phoning your house phone three times to no answer, so the spare room is set up for you, let me know when you pair decide to sleep.” Sadie doesn’t hear much of what Denise said after hearing that her house was phoned three times, and nobody answered. What if something had happened to her? She sighs and smiles up at Denise from the floor, thanking her before picking at the loose pieces of carpet on the floor. When the door shuts, the tears flow. Matty has never been more panicked in his entire life, he thinks. How the fuck do you comfort your crying best friend?!

“Hey, hey. Come here.” He wraps an arm around her shoulder and all she can do is sigh. She knows if she speaks it’ll end in even more tears, her voice will refuse to work. She gives in and leans into Matty’s touch, the weather outside is a stark contrast to how she feels under his arm. After a few minutes of her silently crying, she dares a glance up at him and sees him staring at the wall across from him with slightly widened eyes, the sight makes her giggle, breaking him from his trance. He looks down at her and joins in the laughter, not knowing why they’re laughing but glad she’s not crying as hard anymore. Yet his eyes widen again when she stops laughing and opens her mouth.

“I want to know why they don’t care about me. I haven’t done anything.” Matty sighs at this, a sick part of his brain wishes he could relate just so he’d know what to say. He looks down at Sadie who is now lying on his floor, upside down from where he sits. He lays down next to her, top and tail, both teenagers looking up at the ceiling, feeling things too big for them to even comprehend, things they shouldn’t have to feel. “Sorry, I feel like the mood is ruined.”

“What mood? You’ve been off all day, making me feel sad. I wish I could make it better.”

“I wish you could, too.”

Sadie has no desire to celebrate her 15th birthday that following Summer. But she’s been faced with no choice. In George’s words they “had to because you only turn 15 once.” George had turned 15 earlier that year and didn’t seem to share that sentiment on his birthday, all they did was go to Matty’s house after school and sit in his living room for six hours. But he was insistent that the group had to go out for dinner, he’d gotten Denise on his side which ultimately led to Sadie agreeing. Her mother wasn’t best pleased, but she’d grown to not care, and her mothers grown to know she can’t fight her anymore.

She got dressed in rapid speed, desperate to get out of the house and reunite with her best friends. She hadn’t even gotten as much as a card from her parents and that says more to her than any words could have, she isn’t even sure they know her birthday is today. Pulling on her jeans, probably quicker than the speed of light, she grabs her jacket and runs down the stairs, she shouts a bye to anyone who cares and hops on her bike to Matty’s house. They’re all meeting there for some big surprise before they go out to dinner.

The August sun is beaming down on her face, she pauses and squints up at the sky and notices how blue it is, she smiles and looks back down at her bike. She decides that draping her jacket over the handlebars is a better idea, her backpack is half on her back because she was in such a rush. When she bikes the familiar back road she takes note of how the trees have turned from pathetic twigs to bright green scenery, she shuts her eyes for a second and let the Summer air infiltrate her lungs. She is grateful to be alive.

When she biked round the corner at the end of Matty’s road she could see all the boys engaged in a water fight, her urge to turn right back around grows stronger the closer she gets, George’s pathetic screams and Matty’s maniacal laughter grow louder, and she can’t help but laugh to herself. She hears Denise scolding Ross for going too rough and shakes her head as she throws her bike down on the driveway, climbing off and running away from all the boys who immediately turn on her with their water attacks. “Hey!! Stop, it’s my birthday!”

George laughs louder than Sadie had ever heard someone laugh before, probably because the boys weren’t targeting him anymore. She squeals and tries to run into the house, but Adam blocks the door, and she feels more water shooting at the back of her head. She hits his chest and tells him to move at least fifty times, but he doesn’t budge so she runs. She runs round the house to the back garden where she knows Matty keeps the water guns, just as she suspected there’s a pile of them, half-full, on the grass. Sure, they’re the shit ones, but they’ll do the job.

She hears a gasp behind her. “She’s found the pile, run.” She laughs and whips herself around, gun in each hand, to the pathetic squeals of four boys who run back around to the front of the house. There’s a knock on the kitchen window which distracts Sadie for a second, she sees Denise waving wildly at her, she waves back and sees her saying “Happy Birthday!” She laughs and runs round the house to get the boys back.

A half hour later Denise calls out the front door for them to come in. They all race into the house, Matty being shoved by George and Sadie laughing so hard she stops in her tracks. She gets stopped in her tracks even further when she sees the pile of gifts under the TV. She gasps quietly and barely hears everyone wishing her a happy birthday in unison, the tears pricking her eyes are stinging the back of her throat. This is the most anyone’s done for her birthday. George puts an arm round her shoulder and shakes her slightly, then slightly shoves her to the presents. “Save the one with the pink wrapping paper for last.”

Sadie’s bottom lip wobbles and she lets out an exasperated laugh. “Guys, this is too much. I don’t even know what to say.” She moves towards the gifts as if they’re going to jump out and scare her. She sees the three cards on the top and picks them up, sitting down on the floor in front of the TV. The boys, Denise, Tim, and Louis are all scattered across the couches and the floor too, just watching. She opens the one from Denise, Tim, and Louis first and smiles through teary eyes at the kind words written on the page. She has the same reaction to the other two cards, one from all the boys, one from just Matty.

After a while Sadie’s face is wet with tears, she’d laughed at some of the funny gifts, and with her new necklace round her neck she looked at the last gift, the pink one, cautiously. “Is it alive? Am I gonna be scared?” Matty laughs and shakes his head. She lifts it into her lap and looks at the tag, it reads that it’s from the boys. Before she opens it Denise cuts in.

“They all saved up for this on their own. Came up with the idea and everything.” Sadie looks to the group of boys on the other couch who all look very smug, she rolls her eyes at their faces and turns back to the gift. She carefully unwraps it and can’t help the sob that comes out of her mouth. The new Sony camera is sitting in front of her. When she gets hold of herself she opens the box and gasps at the sight of it. “Guys, oh my god. I can’t take this, you’re kidding.”

“Well, none of us know how to use it.” Sadie tackles the four of them into her arms, jumping on top of them all on the couch, muttering a hundred thank yous under her breath. She doesn’t even know how the boys managed to afford it, maybe some of Matty’s odd jobs he was doing helped, or Ross’ job down at the shop. She didn’t know, but she knew she would never forget this. Sadie felt that same feeling again from earlier. She was grateful to be alive.

By the time Matty’s 18th rolls around, the rest of the group have a plan. They’ve all saved up enough money to buy tickets to Leeds festival, and they’ve all chipped in to get one for Matty’s birthday. Sadie wasn’t allowed to go before, but Denise gave in this year and let her tag along with the group. She makes all of the parental decisions for Sadie now, since she pretty much lives at the Healy’s house. Denise’s reasoning was that it would be after her 17th birthday, deeming her old enough to go. Matty, Ross, Adam and Jamie had gone last year but all they had talked about when they came back to Sadie and George was how excited they were to go next year, the full group.

Ross, George and Sadie were currently sat in Matty’s back garden, waiting for Matty and Adam to get home from work. Sadie and Ross were sharing a cigarette and talking about the lineup for Leeds. More like arguing. George was observing with a cigarette of his own, he’d only spared one to the duo because he’s stingy. “No, Sadie. Nine Inch Nails are more exciting than the fucking Smashing Pumpkins. Think of it, you’re in a muddy field what would you rather listen to.”

Sadie looks at him like he’d grown a second head. “The Smashing Pumpkins.” Ross just groans, George laughs loudly. “What?! I would!”

“You’re actually fucked in the head, Sadie. George, please back me up.” He passes the cig back to Sadie who takes it and looks at George with a raised eyebrow. He takes a sip of his coke and looks away from the pair, whistling at the sky. Sadie laughs and passes the cigarette back to Ross. He tells her to finish it, so she does.

“No, to be fair to both of you, I’d rather be at Paramore. If I had to choose.” Sadie and Ross both share a look and collapse into each other laughing.

“Okay, one, Paramore is on Sunday, we’re talking about Friday. And two, they weren’t even in the equation to begin with.” Ross nods at Sadie’s words and George just sticks his middle finger up at the pair, who laugh at him again. They hear the back door opening and turn to see Matty, they shut up about their prior argument quite quickly. The trio share a look and have to hide their laughs.

“Hello boys. And Sadie.” They nod up at Matty who cracks open his coke and pours it over the ice in his glass. He looks at the three that have gone silent and squints his eyes slightly before taking a sip of his coke and lighting a cig. Sadie looks at the other two who are giving her looks as if to say, “Say something.”

She turns back to Matty, who turns to her. “How was work?” George lets out a barely audible groan and she looks at him incredulously. Matty nods around his glass and then kind of shakes his head.

“It was okay, not busy, boring. I like it there, though.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome for getting you that job. I’ve been there for like a year now. Remember when I walked in one day and George was just standing in the kitchen? That was stupid.” George laughs at her and she turns to him. “No, I was so confused.”

“I was working, where did you want me to stand?”

“It would’ve been nice to know you were working at the fucking place?” George shakes his head.

“Wanted to surprise you.”

“Some surprise that is, George!” He, yet again, sticks his middle finger up at her. This time she does it back. Matty scoffs and leans his head back with a sigh, he stretches his arms and one of them comes to rest on the back of the bench behind Sadie.

She points up at the sky, the sun is setting behind the clouds which cast a pink hue down on the group of four. They stay outside until the sun is probably in the middle of the sky in Australia. Adam arrives not long after Matty and Sadie gives him a subtle nod and thumbs up, trying to tell him that they got the Leeds tickets today. He looks confused at first, but he gets it after a minute. When Matty goes inside the four speak in whispers about how they have to tell Matty, because George is unable to keep it a secret. The back door swings open again and the four sit up straight. “Right, you guys are hiding something from me.” Sadie can’t help herself.

“We’re going to Leeds.”

Leeds was a fucking nightmare. Everyone fought. Everyone made up. Then they fought again. They all got so high they probably couldn’t see. Ross and Sadie ended up seeing Nine Inch Nails together after losing everyone else, and despite being in the clouds, Sadie remembered to act like she didn’t want to be there. Until she actually started enjoying herself. And George got to see Paramore. Almost. He passed out and Sadie shouted at him in the medical tent after he just came to because she was missing out, she was forced to take him to the medical tent.

Sadie was sick on some girl’s shoes at the Kings of Leon set. It was her, George and Adam having the time of their lives until some older girl started flirting with George, obviously he was loving it, but Sadie was already having a bad high and when she saw the way that girl was looking at George she just couldn’t help it! It all kicked off when George and the girl teamed up and tried to fight her. George was forced to take her to medical and as she was thrown over his shoulder he was yelling about how she’d ruined the weekend.

Safe to say the drive home was silent. Matty had the biggest hangover behind the wheel and Ross was cradling Sadie in the backseat as if she were his child, George was practically hanging out the window on the other side of Sadie. The one memory she has in the car is when they were all sat on the grass, ages away from any music, when Matty turned to the boys and said, “Reckon we’ll be on one of these stages soon?” The question was ringing through Sadie’s mind.

A few days later the group were all sat in Matty’s garden (like usual) with drinks in hand, reminiscing on the festival after they’d all taken some much needed time away from each other. Anytime Matty’s eyes caught hers she felt her heart stop. She isn’t sure he remembers but the day after they got back Sadie jolted awake with a vision of her kissing Matty. She doesn’t know when or if it actually happened, but it seemed too real to be something she conjured up in the middle of the night. Ever since, she’ll wake up in a cold sweat with visions of Matty’s lips on hers. She remembers it being a life-changing kiss, though, so there’s that at least.     

Sadie makes a point to be the last to leave Matty’s house, she’ll probably end up sleeping here tonight, like usual. It’s a rare sight to see Sadie sleeping in her own bed these days, it probably occurs once a month at most. When Adam shuts the door behind him, Sadie feels her heart fall out of her ass, the silence is less than comfortable. If she can feel the shift in energy surely Matty can. He sits down beside her and turns to her. “Do you remember?”

Sadie feels like she’s died in her seat. Her eyes have practically fallen out onto the dining table. She spins her glass on the table awkwardly, thinking of what to say. What would he say if she lied? Would he pretend it never happened? She decides not to lie, because when his face is as close to hers as it is right now, she thinks she’d like to kiss him again. “Yeah… Do you?”

“Wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t, hmm?” Sadie feels like her 14 year old self, meeting him for the first time. Her face is flushed pink, she’s picking at the tracksuit bottoms on her thighs, and she’s avoiding eye contact. She wishes the ground would eat her alive, because one thing about Sadie is she doesn’t know how to flirt. “Hurt me seeing you kiss that other guy the next day.” As he says this his hand has come up to play with the loose strand of hair that had fallen out of the front of her ponytail. She looks up at him through her eyelashes. Her voice is no louder than a mutter.

“Sorry, didn’t know what I was doing, don’t even think I knew where I was.” Matty laughs softly at this and looks down at his lap, but his eyes catch Sadie’s nervously picking at the loose thread on the seam of her tracksuit. He feels his heart skip a beat as he grabs it. This makes her face him, looking into his eyes. The silence around them is suffocating and Sadie feels like she might pass out on the floor. When he makes the move to shuffle slightly closer, she smirks at his face. She doesn’t know where she grew the confidence but when she mutters, “Just do it.” He breaks the distance.

The butterflies in her stomach feel cliché, the way the kiss picks up in pace feels even more so. His lips on hers feels like coming home to your own bed after you’ve been abroad for a week. It feels like the smell of your own house after being away for a while. She knows that when her hand comes up to the back of his neck that it holds an ulterior motive, this is confirmed by his hand on her hip, guiding her closer. She wants to consume him in this moment. When they break away for a breather, Sadie doesn’t open her eyes, she doesn’t want to face this moment, but when she feels a squeeze on her hip she can’t help but open one eye. Matty laughs and leans his forehead to hers.

“Sleep in my room tonight.” That’s all that Sadie has ever wanted to hear.

The slight fling between Sadie and Matty didn’t really last for very long. The group all moved into a flat together and the flame between them just kind of flickered out. George noticed the change in Sadie’s demeanour ever since. He was the only other person who knew about Matty and Sadie, but because he was the best friend of both he had to be there for both. It was eating him alive. He was laying in Sadie’s bedroom, joint between his lips. They were sharing it.

“He fucks anything with legs. But I can’t move on. What’s with that?” Sadie plucked the joint from George’s mouth, and he rubs his eyes his face with a groan. He watches the smoke leaving Sadie’s lips intensely, staring at the way it clouds up in the air and dissipates into nothingness, this is how Sadie and Matty’s relationship felt. He sits up slightly on the bed with an indignant sigh.

“His way of coping, I suppose. He didn’t exactly get an explanation as to why you stopped sleeping in his room. Now he just needs someone sleeping there to fill that void for him.” It’s Sadie’s turn to sigh now. She knows George is right, but she doesn’t like the answer and she doesn’t want to hear that he’s suffering. He’s being a bitch and he should just come and speak to her. Silence falls over the duo and George stubs out the joint gently before opening his arms for Sadie.

She isn’t feeling very grateful to be alive.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

I Knew You Were Trouble When You Walked In 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, medical procedures including dialysis and chronic illness, dry humping, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Pete Brenner, short!reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Before you depart, you leave an extra tip at the counter. The owner was more helpful than he needed to be. You feel indebted.

As you go out into the street, you give a long glance in each direction. You're paranoid even after the hours that passed since the unwelcome encounter. It's not just that one time, it's that this guy keeps popping up.

You walk the block warily, checking over your shoulder every few steps. Your building is quiet now that the maintenance is done, at least for the day. You go up to your apartment and drop your bag by the door.

What a long, strange day. Still, you got a lot of work done. You can just relax. You have another appointment tomorrow and that will be less than soothing.

You go to the bedroom and pull out a set of pajamas. You change a piece at a time, stretching as fatigue knots your muscles. You pull up the shorts as a shadow flickers by the window. You turn, finding nothing but the dimming sky and the rattling fire escape.

You don't think much of it. The wind often shakes the metal ladder and your apartment never quite gets the full shine of daylight. You grab your laptop and turn on the same show you've been marathoning for almost a week. You nestle into bed and yawn, even if it is a bit early to turn in.

You try to unwind and let go of the stress needling in your temples. You close your eyes, the heaviness less crushing, more hypnotizing. It drags you down even as the tension longers in your body.

You dream of the cafe and its moody owner, the other man like a shadow outside the window, the ambience overcast and sinister. At the edge of your subconscious is the glare of the laptop screen, the garbled audio skewing to a hum. A cool flow washes over you and sends a shiver up your spine.

You rouse slightly, enough to pull the top of the quilt to your chest. You hug the patchwork and grumble as you roll onto your side. You seal your eyelids and cling to the sleep that weighs on your lashes. The blackness slowly spreads and all at once splinters as your name gristles into your ear.

Your eyes snap open to darkness. Your laptop is closed and set on your night table. There's a weight over you that suggests more than a blanket. You feel something wiggle under your side and realise an arm is hooked around you, their hand tucked beneath you.

You go rigid and inhale, ready to scream your lungs out. The hand swiftly slides free and smothers your voice. You whimper and squirm against the intruder.

“You know, sweetheart, I just wanted to talk…” his nose brushes along the shell of your ear, his damp breath on your nape.

You whine and grab at his hand desperately. How did he find you? Jow did he get in here? This has to be a nightmare!

He hushes you and nuzzles your hair. He presses a kiss to the back of your head and growls. He wiggles even closer to you, rolling his hips against you.

“Now I don't feel like talking,” he snarls.

Your eyes gloss as his strength traps you. You don't understand. What did you do to deserve this? Why does he care so much?

“You know what I feel like?” He rasps, rocking against you as his breath shudders with his fervent motion, “I feel like holding you down and seeing if the rest of you still works.”

You squeak as you claw at his thick wrist. Your heart thunders and your ears burn. You've never felt this helpless.

He keeps his rhythm, his crotch chafing against you as his other arm snakes under you. His hand flutters up to squeeze your chest. He grunts between his quickening pants as the bed shakes with him.

“I can be a nice guy,” he huffs, “but you make a guy wanna be mean.”

Your tears break free, leaking down to stain your pillow. You writhe and throw your elbow back. He growls as you catch him in the same spot as before.

He leans his weight into you, turning you on your stomach as he crushes you against the mattress. He pins you with his body, thrusting against you as the fabric between your bodies grows warm. You murmur and bawl into his salty palm as you feel his bulge hard and throbbing against you.

“That's it, baby, that's it,” he coaxes as he rocks faster, “almost….”

He slips his hand behind your head and pushes your face into the pillow, suffocating you. He coughs and grunts and spasms. He shakes and his pace turns erratic and he slows, little by little, until he still and gulping for air.

He falls limp over you, his head next to yours as he pets your hair. He purrs and turns to kiss your temple. You turn your head away from him and sob.

What just happened?

[msnova-scotia]

Maybe a weird idea, but what if for Fantasy High: Senior Year, it was set ~50 years in the future or so, where all the Bad Kids are seniors now (hence the name). This can allow the Fantasy High series to get out of just the high school setting, the huge time jump means the characters can be level 20, the plot doesn’t have to revolve around immediate things that happen a year after this last season.

Fig can have her separation from the group where she’s lived many years doing her own thing growing. Emily can even choose to keep her retired, saying she’s happy just being a rock star or arch devil in hell or whatever she wants Fig to ultimately do, and can have another character or bring Fig back for a little here and there if she wants, without it being expected to bring Fig back.

Fabian can have his little sibling all grown up, and we can explore more about that. Chungledown Bim can be defeated during the time skip or even as a side plot during the season. He can be retired and not have to worry about keeping up his maximum legend status all the time, and live peacefully but accomplished.

Riz will probably have spent tons of his time exploring other planes of existence, being a secret agent with his dad, taking down all kids of baddies across the universe. He won’t have to be so stressed all the time having to keep tabs on his friends and make sure they don’t get themselves killed (though now he does have to do this with all of the newbies at his job).

Kristen is finally living her best life with a huge congregation following her pantheon of gods, spreading the word of doubt and justice and the true meaning of what these gods stand for. And who knows, maybe Kristen resurrected even more. Now Kristen is making sure each god has a following that believe in and shape the gods in the way the gods want to be shaped.

Adaine has long killed her mother at this point. Her and Aelwyn are best friends, inseparable, though each with their own independent life. I’ve also seen a couple posts about how Adaine would make a good principal (much better than Augefort at least), so she could be doing that as well as changing Fallinel to be less stuck up and pompous. Also she’s settled into her role as the Elven Oracle, and while it may still annoy her that every elf and their mother seems to want a prophecy from her, she at least accepts that her visions are important enough to change the tides of the world and her role shouldn’t be taken so lightly.

And lastly, Gorgug has proven himself as the greatest wizard of all time. Barbaficer has become as common as any other class. He’s changed the world with his inventions, and could be head of some engineering department or whatever that’s brought the entire world of Spyre into the future with crystals and vehicles and all sorts of technological advances that could never have been dreamed of before he came along.

And after all of this personal growth each of the characters had, they have to get together for “one last adventure, for old times’ sake.” But none of them have really adventures in a couple years. Not like when they were younger, that is, but whatever’s going on can’t be stopped by just anyone.

I was also thinking that tbh, it would be neat to maybe explore permanent deaths for the characters at the end, whether it’s from the final battle or the epilogue where each Intrepid Hero gets to choose how their character finally passes, and ends their story. It can put the Fantasy High series to rest in a good way, maybe leaving an open ending to give way for a new generation of heroes but also a final ending to the Bad Kids (so fans don’t keep asking for another year, then another, maybe college this time, etc etc.)

It would also be fun to start off the season with their deaths, have the typical introductions and scene settings that happen with each season, and then the end of the episode: BAM! They all die, put to rest, who will avenge them, the story begins, the Intrepid Heroes start their actual characters, and the whole season is whatever the cast wants it to be, I’m just not sure how well that would work, or how it would still play into being Fantasy High without the main characters. Maybe it could be a side quest or even a longer one-shot or something if they did it this way

[sakuraryomen01]

Sex Exercise /Jjk Characters x Reader/ Prt. 2

warnings: based on a comic called "Sexersize" . reader is a little chubby . sex gym . working out with Sukuna as the trainer . gojo x reader x sukuna (sorta) . risky relationship with sukuna . jealous sukuna and gojo . [reader is also sort of caught in the crossfire of their pettiness and kept in the dark ^^;;] . more or less a sexual crush . gojo's a little mean/of a tease . oral sex (reader receiving) and a blowjob (sukuna receiving) . face fucking . multiple rounds, and positions; reverse cowgirl, scissor style, and missionary . getou also is back to his normal trainer position ^^

reader: female reader; slightly chubby

plot: smut + story . reader goes to a sex gym, having no knowledge of the actually training regimen

words: 4.635k

a/n:: hello hello! ^^ tbh i wanted to take another pause on Valentino as Easter is coming up in a few days! And, I just couldn't get over how popular this drabble was so I decided to make it series of sorts! i hope you're looking forward to getting more of this stuff out lol >_>;; i'm going to also post something with Getou soon! ♡

. . .

Thank you for reading this bit! Enjoy!

It felt like the last month and a half was a fever dream, because you were wondering if Sukuna had decided to really give you special treatment.

He was usually texting you about newer and better sexual positions to test out for extra weight loss. And he also wanted you to come in more and more whenever you had the chance. Whatever this was, you really enjoyed the attention.

To be honest, you almost felt like an attention whore.

For whatever reason, you began to obey the man's commands. And, oh boy, did it pay off for you in the end.

Especially during every session you had paired with the pink haired trainer. It was like he didn't care that the rules in the policy existed, he treated them like helpful suggestions rather than rules when he was in the same room with you. Always daring to kneel behind you while you and your assigned partner for the day were fucking, grabbing some oil and lubing his hands before playing with your ever so soft tits.

"That's it," He'd coo, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before rolling your nipples in his rough fingers. "Make sure to keep your hips angled, sir. She likes it hitting deep inside."

Your partner would always blush a flustered pink before nodding and doing as instructed, grunting in pleasure whenever your pussy tightened around their cock.

"Good job, just don't cum yet."

Like any other day though, today wasn't like that. After Sukuna had gotten into the groove of playing with your pearly chest and precious clit, he wouldn't be prepared for the days to come. After all, fucking his client instead of being patient would have its consequences.

One day in particular might've set off the current chain of events.

"I've been called into a meeting?" Sukuna questioned, his phone raised to his ear after you finished your second session that week. "But, I didn't have anything planned afterwards. I was going to eat and head home."

"Well, you'll have to reschedule," Getou's cool tone echoed through the speaker. "It's not a request. The boss is upset with you after what you did a while ago."

Sukuna groaned, rolling his eyes and you and your partner dressed and departed. Although he seemed stressed and unhappy, you didn't want to meddle in his business, no matter how much it bothered you.

"I'll be there. When is it?"

"Right now, actually. He's waiting for you upstairs in the conference room."

With another curse under his breath, Sukuna cleaned off his fingers from before and headed to the showers. Quickly changing his clothes and washing himself, Sukuna made his way to the front of the gym and turned right. Going up the same stairs you went up your first day at the sex gym. While he didn't care what happened, Sukuna really wouldn't mind being fired.

With a perverted smirk, he huffed as his mind began to cloud once again with pictures of you.

If he got fired, he could fuck you whenever he wanted!

Trying to keep a cool head, and relaxed cock, Sukuna pushed open the door and came face to face with his boss immediately.

The white haired devil's eyes were a piercing shade of sky blue. Shining under his dark sunglasses and pretty white lashes. His head tilted, cheek resting against his palm, and his light grey button up slightly undone like he was some mob boss and not some shady gym owner.

"What is it, Satoru?" Sukuna grunted, closing the door quickly and crossing his arms.

"That's no way to talk to your boss," Gojo cooed in a mock whimper, as if to pretend to be hurt. "I wanted to talk to you. Please, take a seat."

Sukuna would rather not. He didn't know how many girls Gojo's fucked stupid in the room and he didn't want to find out.

After Sukuna was forced into the chair, Getou was soon summoned to join before Gojo started. "So, what's up?"

"That cute lil' client you banged," Gojo said rather bluntly, his charming smile never faltering as Sukuna's eyes glazed over. "When were you going to tell me that incident happened?"

Getou stood beside Gojo's chair, his hands in his pockets with his hoodie sleeves rolled up. There was a small smirk that made its way onto his features, eyes lazily looking between Sukuna and Gojo as the tension grew.

"Did you have your errand boy tell you?" Sukuna grumbled, arms folded and a vein bursting on his neck. He wasn't particularly happy that he was having this conversation.

"I'm wounded," Getou pouted, holding a hand to his chest. "I only watched from the sidelines."

"Whatever, that's not the point!"

There was a collective sigh from Sukuna and Getou, before Gojo butted in and continued his small rant.

"I'm going to do another workout with this Y/n girl and you're not going to get whiny about it, or, I'll make Suguru her new trainer."

That vein of Sukuna's neck was bulging with pure anger and pettiness. He didn't want to be switched with Getou, but watching Gojo fuck you would be just as torturous. Even if he did bang his client when he wasn't supposed to, he didn't want to go through a punishment because of Gojo's choices.

"..If you don't show up, I'll fuck her again," Sukuna threatened, standing and running a hand through his pink locks. "I don't want to leave her high and dry over your whorish nature."

"That's understandable," Gojo said, huffing with pouty lips, lifting his glasses up to rest on his head. His blue eyes practically glowed, shimmering as an amused glint shined. "Make sure I don't find out next time."

With a click, Sukuna left the conference room and headed down to the main lobby, seeing Shoko with her spiked coffee like always and a lazy glimmer in her dark eyes.

"Oh? Someone got your balls in a twist?" She asked, sitting up and removing her feet from atop her desk.

Sukuna grunted, picking up the session notes for next week. His maroon eyes scanned every column until they landed on yours, your cute little photo needed updating. You cheeks weren't nearly as chubby as they used to be.

Was that really a problem tho? Sukuna had wondered to himself, and this wasn't the first occasion.

Many a time did he wonder if your chubbiness was such a bother. Sure, wanting to look good and feel good about yourself was one thing, but Sukuna thought that you looked like an adorable plush pillow. One that he could squeeze in his firm grip and play with like a little ragdoll.

"Getting heart eyed, hm?"

Snapping out of his thoughts, Sukuna sent a glare Shoko's way even though all she had in store was curiosity. "Don't be so harsh. You'll chase off girls with such a 'fuck off' face."

"I don't care," Sukuna snapped, his nose crinkling in disgust. "All the girls that want me are whores running from their husbands anyways."

"So harsh," said the receptionist. Clicking her tongue and rolling the sparkling tongue piercing around her mouth before letting her tongue hang from between her glossy lips. "Don't be like that around that Y/n girl you're fawning over. She'll ask for a new trainer right away!"

Sukuna scoffed, looking at the partner's empty blank and writing in Gojo Satoru. Once he handed the clipboard back to Shoko, she raised her brow in confusion and looked at him.

"Again?" She asked, the corner of her lips turning up in a smirk. "Do you have a humiliation kink by any chance?"

With a grimace and a sigh, Sukuna walked out of the gym after grabbing his things from the trainers washroom. Whatever was going to happen that following week was probably fated to happen. And Sukuna didn't wish to witness it, but he didn't expect it to happen like the first time.

Gojo sometimes followed through on his threats.

Sukuna was walking down the street with a homemade strawberry smoothie in hand, his phone occupying the other. His earbuds in, blasting some (S)aints on Spotify until he arrived at the gym. Although nothing strange had happened to him just yet, he was expecting some kind of a weird greeting from his coworkers.

He quickly finished his drink and threw the cup, walking over to Shoko's desk to sign himself in. She wasn't present at the time, but it was almost 8 in the morning, and she didn't normally like showing up before 9.

Before opening time, Sukuna started to clean his workout room and placed a fresh mat and pillow for his clients. Checked his clipboard and the positions, the AC and if the air was running properly. The oil, the lube, and the condoms— he checked it all.

When nothing out of the ordinary really showed up, Sukuna walked out of the freshly glorified room and made his way to the showers. Stripping quickly in one of the private stalls and bringing along some body wash and a loofah from home.

He washed up rather quickly, not really wanting to run into Gojo again and get bombarded with teases and jealous remarks, and got out to dry off. Though all of Sukuna's wishes weren't able to come true, and his boss walked into the washroom right as Sukuna was dressing in a loose shirt and shorts.

"Ah, you're here early!" Gojo chirped, a smile plastered on his pale face. "Didn't expect you to be so excited to see me naked. Are you a pervert, Sukuna?"

"Of course not," Sukuna responded, grabbing a water bottle from his bag and walking by the male. "I've been dreading this day for a while."

"See you later, Sukuna~"

It was almost twenty minutes later when Sukuna heard a knock on his door, and a cold shiver ran down his spine. Wondering who it was, it made him grumble with annoyance and jealousy. He didn't want to see what Gojo had planned for you, even though it was planned specifically for your workout schedule.

When he opened the door, a small sigh of relief was released at the sight a little you.

"Hey," You mumbled, a smile on your face and a blush tinting your cheeks. "I came a little earlier than normal since I have work later on tonight."

Sukuna nods and lets you in, only to make eye contact with your partner for today. Gojo's smile as shiny and smug as always, but there was also a shine in his eyes that made him look especially aroused. Gojo said hello to Sukuna again, before walking into the room and looking down at you.

"Hello," You waved your hand, already seated on the mat. "Are you my partner for today?"

"Mhm, I see Sukuna already informed you my name."

As you and Gojo exchanged pleasantries for a moment, he sat in front of you and glanced at the clipboard deciding whether or not to follow through with the planned positions or not. But, once Sukuna closed the door, there was an awkward silence.

Sukuna deeply regretted coming to work today.

"We're going to start with a massage," Sukuna instructed, kneeling beside you both and gesturing to the same golden vial of lotion that was provided each and every time. "If you're alright with it, please begin to—"

"I know the drill," Gojo interrupted, rolling his pretty doe eyes before landing them on you. Scanning your chest and waist like they were snacks, making you squirm in your spot and your cheeks flush pink.

"I'm just supposed to get this little lady's clothes off and play with her pretty nipples, right?"

Sukuna grimaced, putting the clipboard down and opening the lube bottle, making his way behind you and patting on your shoulder. Turning your attention to him, his maroon eyes sparkling as he lifted up your shirt. There was an annoyed groan from Gojo, watching as you got played with.

He didn't mind a show, but just watching and not getting to touch really got on his nerves. "Oi, I'm the partner- not you!"

Sukuna clicked his tongue, taking off your shirt and watching your tits bounce from their confines. A satisfied coo rumbling from your trainer's throat, seeing your pretty nipples again as if it was like his first time. And even then, his annoyance (and small hint of jealousy for Gojo) wouldn't make Sukuna hate them.

"Whoa," Gojo chuckled from his spot, although he wasn't in the same place. He had crawled closer and closer to you, eyes trained on your perky little breasts. "And I thought these looked good from the side lines."

With another click of the tongue, Sukuna uncapped the oil and lifted it above your chest. Tilting it until it began pouring the oil onto your skin, a shiver going down your spine at the familiar coolness that coated your body. You let out an almost satisfied sigh, closing your eyes as Sukuna's hands began to wander.

"Heh, there you go," Sukuna's calm whisper tickles your ear, his soft lips press against your neck, leaving small marks. "Is it too rough, miss? Doesn't hurt?"

You shook your head quickly, leaning into Sukuna's touch. Feeling his large hands on your chest again made you feel tingly down there, as if it was sparked by his hand. Whatever the reason, you watched his thumb rub against your nipples, fingertips pinching them and twisting them a few times.

Meanwhile, your soft moans and gasps had made Gojo's cock extremely hard. So hard, it was dripping and making a stain in his briefs, throbbing and pulsing underneath the fabric as if the sight alone was enough to make him hard.

"Hey, I'm getting blue balls here," He grumbled, trying to get some kind of attention. When your lidded eyes flickered up to him, a soft grunt left him. How could you be this cute?

"Shouldn't I be doing this?"

"..That's correct," Sukuna eventually answered, releasing his hold on your chest and snacking his hands down your hips, squeezing and pinching at the soft flesh like it was a plushie. "But I think she rather enjoys my hands than yours, sir."

A glare was shared between the two men, and a wave of jealousy and petty feelings entered the atmosphere. Making a shudder go down your spine, looking between the two men with a dumbfounded expression.

What was with the tension..??

"A-Anyways," You mumble, the duo's eyes light up— more or less —as they turned down to you. "Isn't it time for the man's massage?"

Gojo's smug smile definitely ticked off Sukuna again, a small squelch sound being made as he released his hold on your hips. "That's right."

Nodding, you picked up the oil bottle just as Gojo removed his shirt and laid down on his belly. You could tell just how excited he was with the light pink tinting his cheeks, his feet kicking a little as you climbed onto his back. Your bum rested just above his, right over his waist, and you coat your fingers in the sticky oil.

"Gentle around his nape," Sukuna suddenly said, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. "He's a bit of a sensitive tyke, and his hips too."

"Oi, don't go flirting while I'm right here!" Gojo pouted.

You nod again, spiral eyed as you started the massage. Never in your adult years did you think you'd be sandwiched between two men and their bickering. Whatever the reason their fighting continued, you hoped it wouldn't get too bad.

Pressing your thumbs down on his nape— an obvious shiver being sent down Gojo's spine —you started to work out all the knots and kinks that you could feel. Rolling your wrists and pressing your palms into Gojo's shoulders, focusing on his muscles relaxing while your mind begins to wander. Feeling him flexing underneath you when you hit a tender spot, watching him tense up with a small grunt. It was so cute and hot at the same time how much of a baby face your partner had, and you wondered what he'd look like during sex.

Would he look like a total demon? Or like he was having his first time?

As your mind swirled with all the possibilities, and more, you had begun to get wet. Dampening your panties and letting it soak like it was a waterfall between your thighs. Eventually, Gojo noticed this growing warmth on his lower back, turning his head back slightly and angling his eyes to catch a glimpse of what he thought might be true.

"Getting wet, are you?" His cool tone making you jump, pretty eyes catching you in the act of daydreaming. "Do you like a good body as much as I do?"

"Uhm," You mumbled, unable to respond after being caught. "I-I suppose so, sir."

Gojo giggled at your response, pushing you off gently and rolling back onto his bum. Pulling you into his lap, his white lashes fluttered against your cheek while his boyish eyes sparkled.

"My name's Satoru Gojo, ya'know?" He teased, kissing your cheeks and holding your face in his massive hands. "Call me by name, it'll get way too kinky if you call me that!"

With a whimper, you were placed down onto the mat, the pillow that was placed ahead of time resting under your head with a small poof sound. Gojo towered over you, looking down at you like a large cat about to devour its prey. He licked his lips, hooking his fingers under your waistband and tugging down. Pulling your shorts and panties off in such a swift and quick motion you worried he torn them.

"Gotta get a taste of that juicy pussy," Gojo purred, his eyes practically glowing when they shot down to the moist area. Seeing your folds soaking in their own slick made his dick throb in their confindes.

"Looking mighty savory, aren't you?"

The vulgarity was making you shiver, watching in stunned silence as Gojo's hands pressed against your inner thighs and he quickly leaned his head down to sniff you. Hid body soon follows suit and resting on the mat, and his tongue catches you off guard when it flicks at your clit.

"Waah!!" You cry out, hands making their way to tug at Gojo's fluffy hair. "Th-That was too sudden, be careful!"

Gojo responds with a very muffled "I got this," and continues working your pussy with his mouth. It was almost a complete contrast from how Sukuna did it. It was sudden, and Gojo didn't leave anything to chance. Paying lots of attention to your hole while thumbing at your clit, practically grinding his nose under the hood and incidentally pinching it between the two.

He let out little sighs of satisfaction at your taste, letting the fluids into his mouth and pushing his tongue into your hole. Feeling you clench around him and forcing another jolt from his cock.

"God, you're making me so hard right now," Gojo taunted, swirling his tongue around and chuckling over how hard your cunt was sucking in his tongue. "So welcoming, I can't wait to feel how tight you are down here."

A few short moments and he had you cumming from his fingers and lips, your thighs shuddering under the force of your orgasm and an unexpected moan erupting from you. Gojo was a little surprised as well how fast he got you to cum, considering how much stamina you must've developed exercising here.

"Must be weak for someone good with his hands, eh?" Gojo smirked, feeling Sukuna's eyes burning holes in the side of his head. It was so worth it.

After his teasing resided, he looked over at Sukuna and asked what the first position was. With a grimace, Sukuna lifted the clipboard and read it off the top; "Reverse cowgirl."

The male cooed with delight, a smile on his face as he began peppering your neck with kisses and nibbles. You yelp when you're suddenly lifted into Gojo's lap and flipped around, pressing against a very firm bump in his lap. He pushed down his shorts and briefs as you look back to see just how big he was, and what you saw made you shudder.

It was massive.

"Oh my.." You mumble, trailing off as Gojo ripped open one of the condoms Sukuna provided. "Are you even sure it'll fit?"

Gojo nods as if to play with you, slipping the condom over his dripping and pink mushroomed tip. "Of course it will! I prepped you good for my cock, and you'll take it like a good girl."

Gojo's hand gripped his base firmly, tilting your ass up so he could get a good look at your pussy. Tracing his tip on the outline of your entrance, he pushed it into your opening and sighed once your tightness enveloped him.

It felt like heaven inside you.

You pulsed and squeezed in all of the right places as Gojo continued pushing himself inside you, putting it inside like a sword to its sheath. Once he felt his balls pressing against your swollen clit, grinding them against you, he laid down on the mat and held your hips in his hands.

"Go ahead and start the work out," Sukuna muttered from his spot by the tinted window, arms folded and staring down at where you and Gojo were now connected. "Make sure to be gentle, she's not some blow-up doll."

Gojo scoffs, sending a glare to his worker and receiving one in return.

Once you managed to catch your breath, you pressed your shins into the mat and lifted your hips. The friction of Gojo's shaft rubbing your insides as if he wasn't even wearing a condom, your nails digging into his thighs skin and creating indents. You whimpered at the feeling of Gojo's cock being so deep inside, feeling it rub all the bumps and spots that made your toes curl.

Soon, Gojo decided to take matters into his own hands.

Jutting his hips up and rocking you against him in a fast paced rhythm. Knocking his leaking tip against your womb, rubbing your clit against his swelling balls with every thump. It was hard to hold back your orgasm like this, the pressure you were getting was almost perfect.

"..Five.. Six.. Seven," Sukuna counted, watching your tits bounce and your back arch for someone that wasn't him. He didn't even want to pay any mind to Gojo, but it was him that was making you feel so good.

Making your face morph with pleasure and bounce so perfectly. You looked so cute and sexy, that it made Sukuna grunt with lust. He's ashamed he's so horny for his client, seeing you everyday get fucked by someone that wasn't him and imagine it was himself doing it. He had that one chance, and he took it, and now his cock was being punished in its confines, dripping and oozing for you.

"O-Okay, time to move to a different position," He announced, looking at his clipboard and hearing a pop! "Scissor style. Miss, please lay on your side and we'll continue."

You nod, panting and shaky, already almost spent. It was a surprise that you weren't used to this, it was like the first time you ever walked into the gym all over again. Laying down, you lazily lifted your leg, watching Gojo come up over you once again and putting it over his shoulder. Slipping his cock back inside you and groaning quietly, looking down and watching your hole constrict around him as he started moving his hips, holding onto your leg and kissing your calf.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Gojo said, rubbing up your thigh and pressing his hand against your hip. "I want to come so bad inside you, but there's this fucking condom."

Your whimpers and moans were like music to Sukuna's ears, watching you struggle to hold your orgasm back after being edged. Seeing how tight your tummy was clenching just to handle Gojo's sharp thrusts, his pubic bone slapped against your thigh. He let out a groan, pressing his brows together as his movements became sloppy and desperate.

He really wanted to cum.

"..Nine.. Ten!" Sukuna clapped, startling both you and Gojo at the same time with his presence. Seeing as he wasn't normally as handsy like any other day, but oh did he want to.

"You'll now be switching to missionary, the final position for today. Anyways, before we do that.."

Sukuna took a few steps towards you and sat down a little ways from your head as Gojo released you from your compromising position. Your confusion made him smirk, watching in amusement as your face changed from a look of confusion to embarrassment and pure cuteness.

"You'll be sucking me off, too," He finished, undoing himself from his pants and letting his hard cock slap against his stomach. The tip was oozing with pre-cum, dripping down the underside and ending up trailing along one of the veins that was throbbing.

"You could get written up for that," Gojo interjected, glaring at Sukuna's dick like he was hoping it'd just fall off. "Against policy, y'know?"

Sukuna shrugged, fisting himself for a moment while you were still stunned and not paying attention to the argument at all. Looking up at the enlarged head until it was tapping its pearled up tip to your puffy lips, pressing and rubbing for you to invite it inside. Your eyes sparkled while Sukuna and Gojo continued their banter before you opened your mouth and began to suck on the tip.

"Just don't be a dick and let it—" Cutting himself off with a moan and slapping a hand to his face, turning his attention back down to you whom was already making around the halfway mark and suckling gently on his cock.

You let out a small purr at the taste, seeing as you had been wondering its flavor for quite some time, and having it finally was making you feel better than before. A large hand patted your head, causing you to look up and see Sukuna's proud smirk plastered on his face.

"Like it?" He asked, playing with your hair and gesturing to Gojo to get into the next instructed position. "Keep sucking, just make sure that you don't choke."

You nod, resting on your back as your partner lifted your legs over his hips. The familiar stretch of Gojo's dick pushed back inside your cunny, dripping and squelching as he started to move and press his thumb against your clit. Rocking his hips hard against you to try and get your attention back onto him, watching your mouth take Sukuna deeper and deeper into your throat.

"That shouldn't be so sexy, dammit," Gojo huffed, working up a sweat as he pressed his hands on the mat next to your hips. "Fuck.. so tight and warm.."

With each of your holes being filled up, you moaned around Sukuna's. Feeling the pleasure touching every nerve ending and limb that was being consumed. It was as if you were being welcomed into a hug, even though the people currently embarrassing you had some form of hate for each other.

Sukuna grunted, holding your head in place while he started to move his hips. His cock tapping at the back of your throat and your drool pooling around its middle, an almost harsh pace being set to where you wanted to choke.

"Is it too much?" Sukuna teased, looking down at your flushed face.

Although you couldn't speak, you let out a small whimper, running your tongue on the side of his cock and watching his brow twitch. He let out a chuckle, a groan following it, and a sigh. Feeling your soft lips around him made him want to finish already, and he most likely will even though Gojo was there and would tease him about it for the days to come.

While Sukuna's dick knocked at the back of your throat Gojo's cock rubbed at your sweet spot deep inside. Grinding his pelvis into your clit, squeezing at your hips until you knew they'd have bruises tomorrow. His large palms made they're way up your body, tickling at your sides until his thumbs grazed at your nipples.

Rubbing around them and playing with them while he moved his hips against you gently, even though he should've been going at a faster pace.

"Squeezing me so tight," Gojo mumbled, thumbing your nipples and cupping your tits. His eyes glowed with want as his hips started to pick up their pace. "Gonna make me cum so fast, Y/n."

"M-Mgh!" You responded in return, feeling Gojo's fingers pinch and tug at your nipples. Bending his head down to suckle on them, licking around your swelling nub until it was a bright red.

"Such sexy lil' nipples too. Wahh, I get why Sukuna was so protective of oyu now!"

The man in question grunted, his face flushed and rocking his hips into your mouth more. Panting and playing with your hair while his cock continued to drool and drip more into your mouth. Soon Sukuna's aching member gave a final throb and shot his load down your throat.

A warm and bitter taste on your tongue, you swallowed. Some of the excess dribbling down the corner of your lips and landing on the tatami mat, Sukuna's cock pulling from the heat of your mouth with a pop!

"Thanks, darling," Sukuna teased, watching your fucked out expression get worse. "You've got a great mouth on you."

Letting out a little whimper, Sukuna pinched your chin between his fingers, leaning his head down and pressing a small kiss to your bottom lip. It sends a shudder down your spine and made your toes curl.

His lips were so soft and warm even if it was for a brief moment. Once he pulled away, you noticed Sukuna's other hand trailing down between your breasts and down your stomach. Drawing an invisible line while Gojo's eyes followed, watching as it went further and further to meet your clit.

You gasp at the contact, feeling Sukuna circle his fingers in slow and gentle circles, Gojo's dick throbbing and pulsing between your folds adding additional pleasure. Sukuna started peppering kisses on your temple while his eyes continued to bore down at your little nub. Telling Gojo to go faster and make you arch your back, to which he did even though he had a grimace on his face.

"I'm gonna cum soon, shit," You whimper, reaching down and wrapping a hand around Gojo's wrist. Digging your nails into his skin as another orgasm began to wash over you.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck!! Gojo!"

All he needed was your voice to cum, to fill up your insides while your pussy clenched. The soft moans leaving Gojo makes you blush, seeing him pressing his brows together and closing his eyes. A slight sweat collecting on his hairline and making his bangs stick to his forehead.

"Mgh! Take it, c'mon," Gojo grunted under his breath as if he wasn't talking to you specifically, pumping his cock and riding through your climaxes together.

Once his hips settled and your breaths calmed, Sukuna sat up and licked at his fingers. Tasting your slick on his digits while Gojo pulled from your now puffy and cumming pussy. The pair may not like each other, not in the slightest, but they both mentally agreed you were absolutely ravishing when you came.

"Good session everyone," Sukuna said after a few moments with his shorts and underwear pulled up. "Though I didn't like your partner for today, he was... alright."

"Alright?" Gojo scoffed, scrunching up his nose and panting. "I did amazing. That's the word you're looking for, mister."

While you patted yourself down with a towel Sukuna provided you with, your brain was still in a blur from your high. Looking from both of them, you hummed and sat up as best you could.

"Both of you made me feel good," You finally mumble as the duo turn their attention to you once again. "So thank you to both of you. I'll be looking forward to next time, maybe."

Maybe?

Now that you had dropped the pounds you felt were needed to be lost, you had been considering whether staying with the gym would be the best for you. And you could tell that on the two male's faces that they had gotten the gist of it, seeing a pout look on both of their faces.

"At least one more session wouldn't hurt, right?" an unfamiliar voice said from the door, causing a sudden shock of embarrassment wash over all three of you.

At the door stood Getou Suguru, one of the other trainers at the gym that was here to run you down about its policy in the first place. His black hair was tied up in a small bun, in a plain grey T and some gym pants.

"Your one month membership is going to expire anyways," He said matter of faculty, his lidded eyes scanning over your shaky figure. "It'll be like a fare well parting gift, I suppose."

You hum, trying to hide most of your body while Gojo continued to be stark naked in front of you. Getou shrugged his shoulders, stepping further into the room so he could close the door and tapped his side.

"It's not my choice though, so I can't comment."

You eventually dress, saying goodbye to your partner, Sukuna, and Getou before making your way to the showers to head home for the evening. While you didn't want to stay any longer, and you needed to at least get your friends off your back about the place, Getou's point did make sense.

It'd be a waste to just let your membership go to waste over one day.

After gathering your things, you walked over to the sign-out sheet and wrote your name. Placing one last session for you, and just waiting to see what was going to happen. Shoko had gotten to work a little after 9, but she was a tired little mess.

Her sleepy eyes glossy as they looked up at you from over the rim of her cup of coffee. "One more session, love?"

"Mhm," You respond, handing her the sheet and waving. "I'll be seeing you guys one last time, then it's back to my normal schedule!"

You walked out the glass paned doors and down the sidewalk towards your home. Inside, you knew you'd miss the place, but it was just convenient for your weight loss at the time.

"Man, it shouldn't be this hard to say goodbye," You chuckle to yourself, a smile on your face as you continued to walk home.

Waiting patiently for your last day at the sex gym you had grown to adore.

a/n:: ty for enjoying and taking the time to read this! i didn't know where i was going with this, and honestly was hoping to post this sooner than now! Looking forward to writing the next part soon!! ^^ a/n::

og drabble || next part

[thehatchetsims]

The first day we actually played we decided to start with the Spankoffski brothers. Things quickly turned to disaster. Less than 3 minutes into playing we have Pete try to cook some breakfast AND A FIRE BREAKS OUT!

freaking out we prompt ted to put out the fire and save his baby brother. and what does he do? Well like the coward he is HE DOES NOTHING! Opting to just run outside and wait for the fire department. It takes what feels like 5 years for the firefighters to show up (we were terrified that pete was gonna die) Where upon they did arrive TED GETS FILRTY

Right as the fire department shows up, the game gives the pop up message of "Peter is at school. Go there now?" except he's still ON FIRE and we didn't want to send him to school on fire. so we cancel sending him to school. he gets extinguished.

ted meanwhile is standing out in the rain while flirty. pete is in the kitchen traumatized and burnt. he has a fear of fire now. he is so miserable.

and then the school principal calls, because peter didn't go to school. this is too much so we cancel the call, and then peter, despite being a damn nerd has a pop up event for "School is stupid I hate it." and we have to have Ted tell him that school is good despite it being ted. Ted then gets another call (we'll discuss that later) and this was all before the welcome wagon even showed up!

Pete was fine in the end but it was quite a stressful start to the universe.

[juuuulez]

📰 | part seven: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes x Saviour! Reader, father figure Negan my love, enemies to lovers/slow burn, kinda angst but not emotionally yet, graphic violence, attempted sexual assault, um this got kinda dark, also long.

summary: Once again, you are tasked with babysitting Carl, this time leaving Alexandria to find supplies. An unsuspecting attacker causes a rift in your feud.

eesh this is intense but also very succulent to write i LOVE LOVE LOVE some action!

also thank you all for 150+ followers!!! pls continue to send ideas to my inbox i’m absolutely eating it up <3

You’re really starting to get sick of this heat.

It’s sweltering, sticking your clothes to your skin, sweat patches running down your back and dampening the white tank you usually wear.

In favour of not being bitten, you wore the typical black jeans, which are doing absolutely nothing to combat against the unbearable heat.

Unfortunately enough, there isn’t any air conditioning in the Sanctuary, so you’d agreed to return once more to Alexandria with your father.

It had been a few days since your last impromptu visit, a week, actually. Though you’d previously been frazzled, irritated, you took the time to cool off and work through some pretty ugly emotions back at home.

Now, it was down to business, which meant giving strict orders to Saviours on where to check, what to take. Making sure everybody wrote things down, followed their routine.

“Woah, woah, woah! What do we have here?”

Your head snaps in the direction of Negan’s voice, who is standing at the gates, leaning against an old, beaten down car with the engine on. As you approach, the familiar outline of a sheriff’s hat comes into view through the rear window, and you almost want to turn away and forget you even saw anything.

“Now, I sure as shit hope you weren’t planning on leaving unsupervised.” Negan jousts at the teenage boy, still leaning against the passenger side.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out where this is leading, and you shoot your father a tired little glare. “Can’t Dwight do it? Or, I dunno, anyone but me?” You plead, not exactly in the mood to be in a confined space with Carl once more.

For all you knew, he might swerve off the road to try and kill you.

Negan doesn’t let this slide, “Nope! You’re an excellent babysitter, doll. Best girl for the job.”

You bite your tongue against any sort of protest, still having not revealed the true extent of your last encounter with Carl. It would only cause unnecessary stress, you deducted.

At the beginning of this whole apocalypse, Negan had been cagey about letting you do just about anything. It only took a one bad incident to turn on his protective mode, and you felt like maintaining your freedom for a little longer.

“Fine.” You sigh, but instead of climbing into the passenger side, you skirt to the other end of the car. “Out, now. Leave the keys.”

Carl glares at you with an open mouth, clearly displeased about not only having his trip hijacked, but now being ordered around. “I can drive.”

“Don’t care. I’m not gonna risk you goin’ AWOL.” You tell him, unfortunately deadly serious, much to the boys’ dismay.

With an angry scoff, Carl departs from the drivers side, instead getting into the passenger chair. You sit down, leaning over to adjust the seat in order to ensure your feet would reach the peddles.

With Negan gone, having departed to keep a keen eye on the Saviours, you reach into your belt and pull a small handgun from the holster. This catches Carl’s attention, as he’s never seen you carry a gun before.

You hand it to him.

“One bullet,” You instruct, tone more serious than he’s ever heard from you. “Don’t fuck this up. It’s emergencies only. You’re lucky I don’t just let you die out there.”

He accepts it wordlessly, not wanting to push that very thin boundary.

The sweltering heat is worse in the car, harsh metal keeping the thick air inside, and you doubt it had any working cooling system.

Luckily, this proved to be less of a problem as you begin driving, the air whipping past your faces and offering a slight relief.

Carl gave you directions, but after the third instruction, you were beginning to get a little fed up.

“Why don’t you draw me a map?” You suggest, one hand on the wheel while the other brazenly fishes around in your back pocket, managing to pull out a small notepad. “Then I don’t need to listen to your voice.”

“What, like you can read?” Carl comments, a snide remark that contrasts the fact that he does take the notepad, flicking through pages in order to find an empty one.

His eyes are drawn to the little graphite sketches that adorn the pages, his thumb tempted to swipe the paper back and have a peek, but he resists.

A few moments later, and Carl hands the notepad back to you, which you hold in front of the wheel in order to get a good look. Your brows furrow, finger tapping against a strange looking blob.

“What’s this?”

Carl leans closer, brows pinched as he looks at the drawing. “A tree.” He says, as if it were obvious, despite the artwork being significantly less than professional.

“Okay?” You take your eyes off the road, giving the boy a confused, critical gaze. This only feeds into his temper, where Carl suddenly takes the notepad from your hands, drawing a few more scribbled lines on the so-called ‘leaves’ of his tree.

“So you know where to turn,” He specifies, like this would solve all of your problems, “At the end of the road. There’s a tree.”

You struggle to find your words for a moment, unsure how the simple action of drawing a map has just made this more confusing. “There are trees everywhere, dumbass. That isn’t helpful.”

“Well, yeah, but it’s a big tree,” Carl scoffs, throwing the notepad back onto the dash, opened so you can see it. “This wouldn’t be happening if you just let me drive.”

“Oh! Okay,” You turn to him, “I would have let you drive, had you not tried to shoot me. So, fairs fair, asshole. This is your fault.”

“I said I was sorry!” Carl retorts loudly, uncaring of how you’re no longer looking at the road, or about how fast the car is travelling.

You roll your eyes, “That doesn’t count. Murders don’t get let off scot-free just because they said two puny words.”

“That’s barely comparable!” He continues to push the conversation, all that pent up anger and frustration towards your adamancy against him starting to bubble up. “It’s not my fault that you’re, like, deranged or something.”

That was it.

You slam your foot on the breaks, sending the car skidding a few dangerous meters ahead. In that time, you brace yourself against the steering wheel, but Carl jolts uncomfortably against the seatbelt.

“What the fuck—”

“Get out.”

He looks at you like you’re actually insane, trying to decipher whether or not you’re being serious. But you only stare at him, glaring actually, jaw clenched in irritation.

“Get out!” You tell once more, needing Carl to get the message that you simply can’t be around him anymore. Not with all the arguing and bickering, it was getting on your last nerve, and you just needed some space to breathe.

With a huff, Carl obeys, but not without slamming the door shut. You run a hand raggedly through your hair, starting the car up once more and placing your foot on the accelerator.

“Fuck you!” Carl yells as you drive off, giving you the finger in hopes that you’ll see it in the rear view mirror. You probably didn’t, but it makes him feel a little better anyway, like he got the final word in.

But as the car disappears against the horizon, he’s left there, on the dusty road in that horrible summer heat. Sweat already sits on his nape, making his shirt uncomfortably sticky, and now he’s tasked with walking the rest of the way.

All because of your tantrum.

With the advantage, you make it to the abandoned gas station in record time. Thankfully, it wasn’t too far from where you’d ditched Carl, so you knew that he would be fine walking. You weren’t that cruel.

It’s relatively run-down, and you can only spot a few walkers mingling near the store’s back end. You keep your bat held tight, stalking through broken glass and tipped shelves to find anything of use. Whilst you don’t know what Carl had in mind for this trip, you could make a few assumptions, and managed to collect a small pile of minimal medical equipment, snacks, and even some baby food.

It was peaceful, actually.

Maybe a little too peaceful.

Slinging the bag of supplies over your shoulder, you approached the car once more, intending to drive the way back and pick Carl up along the way. He shouldn’t be too far off, at this point. You lean over, starting the ignition and popping the boot open, letting the supplies rest there.

But as you circle around, something catches your eye. A shiny glint on the ground. You poke it with your boot, only to realise that it appears to be a small razor blade.

Dread floods your system, and as you bend down to inspect the peculiar object, it hits you.

The tires, each one of them, have gone flat. Air completely let out, slashed. Unusable.

No escape.

You clench your jaw, rising to your feet once more, the metal bat still in hand. Someone was here. With what intentions, you didn’t know, but you could assume it wasn’t good.

Cautiously, you take a few steps backwards, towards the gas station. You watch the open space ahead of you, eyes steady on the treeline, inspecting for the most minute of movements that could betray the whereabouts of this potential attacker.

Except it doesn’t come from behind.

One steady thunk and your head is colliding with the concrete wall, to which the shock causes you to drop the baseball bat, one hand clasping the wall and the other digging your nails into the wrist of your attacker.

A firm hand has collected your hair, gripping onto your ponytail, fingers pressed into your scalp. You fight and squirm, but the body of a much larger man presses behind you.

With your stuff in the car, you can only imagine what he might want.

Despite this, you don’t scream, teeth clenched as you struggle to evade his grip. A harsh stomp to his foot assists your escape, where you’re able to land one solid punch square to the man’s jaw, before his leg swipes your balance out, sending you crashing to the concrete.

You almost twist onto your stomach, but the attacker is too quick, once again fisting your ponytail and slamming your face into the ground. One, two, three and you finally stop struggling as vigorously, blood and mucous caked all over your face, mixing in with chipped cement and dirt from the floor.

But the baseball bat is so, so close.

There’s one hand still in your hair, another on your back. Now waist, then stomach. Gross, burly fingers circling the button of your jeans.

A singular moment of weakness is all you need, where he’ll let his guard down, and you can leap for the bat.

Unfortunately, you know what form this weakness comes in.

You’re panting like a wild animal, trying not to squirm, carefully calculating your next move until suddenly there’s a loud pop then whistle that whirs past your ears, the sound almost making you flinch, before the weight of your attacker slumps against your body.

Crimson blood drips down onto your shoulder, coating your neck and back, the cold shock helping you regain enough consciousnesses to shuck the dead body from your smaller frame, scurrying out from underneath him.

The pavement is searing hot against your palms, you can even feel the burn through the thick material of your jeans. As you sit up on your haunches, looking around, you spot him.

Carl, crouched behind a few bushes, tentatively lowering the handgun.

One bullet.

As he begins to approach, you wipe some of the blood onto your arm, smearing the disgusting gunk further around your skin, which is still persistently dripping from your nose and mouth.

Gravel has surely made its way into the open wounds, but you do nothing about it. Not now, at least.

Carl approaches you slowly, putting the handgun back into his holster, and that genuine look of concern on his face makes you feel sick.

When he gets close enough, arms reach, you bristle and firmly shove him away, sending him stumbling a few steps backwards.

“The fuck did I say?!” You yell at him, directing all your rage and anger towards the corpse lying at your feet, back at Carl. “Emergencies only. What happens now, huh? I don’t have another bullet!”

He looks completely shell shocked by your outburst, not having accounted for such a reaction. But it doesn’t matter, as you’re still shouting, even as he stands there dumbly and watches.

“I had that under control!” You grunt, once again wiping at you nose, which runs with a mix of snot and blood.

When you garner no reaction from Carl, this frustration only continues to fester. You lean down to the ground, swiping up the baseball bat and clenching it hard in your palms.

You approach the body once more, and with one hefty swing, completely obliterate the man’s skull. Later, you would claim this was being proactive against potential walkers, but in the moment in was nothing more than revenge.

When you’ve entirely crushed the skull, you move on to the neck, spine, arms, torso. Anything. There comes a point where you’re no longer hitting to destroy any evidence of what happened, but hitting simply to feel some semblance of control. Blood spurts onto your jeans, some even reaching your tank, a darker colour that contrasts with the bright red of your own.

“Hey, hey. Cool it.” Carl is saying from behind you, and when you show no acknowledgment of his words, he reaches out to place a hand on your shoulder.

You shrug it off, but otherwise drop the bat, letting it clang harshly against the concrete, rolling a few feet away and leaving a gorey trail.

At this point, you try to clear your head, take stock of the situation. The tires are slashed, deeming the car useless. It was beginning to enter late afternoon, and though the days were hot, the nights were freezing. Not only that, but all this shouting has likely attracted whatever walkers you’d hoped to leave unsuspecting.

Finally, you spare a glance back at Carl, who’s been watching you this whole time. It looks like he’s on edge, waiting, ready for whatever you’re about to do, however irrational. A few specks of blood have made its way onto the sleeves of his flannel, where you realise how close Carl has been standing to you, even during the little outburst.

“Fine,” You mumble, answering his unspoken question. “No point heading back. Best push the car into some shade, camp out there for the night.”

Carl takes this as permission to contribute, though he still speaks to you with a level of cation. Mentally, you accept this as fear, but you know very well it’s actually concern. “I know the area pretty well. There’s a cabin not too far off, it was clean last time I checked.”

It’s reasonable, even if the idea of following Carl into the woods makes goosebumps rise on your skin. You’d rather not, especially now that he’d used the sole bullet, which you had none of on hand.

You chew on your busted bottom lip, nodding, accepting this makeshift plan. “Yeah, okay.” You sigh, almost sounding defeated, but nonetheless you pick the bat off the ground and stride back away from the gas station, not bothering to consult Carl any longer.

This was going to be a long night.

[ljh-writing-blog]

Batmom #3

Gotham city is a horrible place, teeming with death and corruption to create a melting pot of horrors her citizens could not avoid. It was here, in this cesspool of dread that your life took a turn for the worst.

A city that had taken everything from her and offered nothing in return. A futile city council let her life fall in the hands of the streets, reducing her to a mere rat in an alleyway scavenging for a meal and warmth. Her fellow citizens ignored her pleas for food, a job, or anyway to clean herself up to be hired for one. A corrupt police department let her disappear, just another missing person’s poster to add to the stack that grew day by day. Gotham took everything from her, how could she ever attempt to love and protect a city that had thrown her down the gutter with no regard as to where she washed up?

Y/N owed her newfound health and sanity to the Justice League but she did not believe she was suitable for offering her help in protecting Earth, let alone Gotham. She had done too much harm, turned into one of the monsters she once feared and terrorized the city herself. How could anyone trust her with human life again, knowing she had been responsible for tormenting such a beautiful thing?

After the night Batman took her into custody her health took a turn for the worst, without the drugs Crane was pumping into her to keep her complacent she soon began to go through withdrawals. Her inability to trust anyone made treatment difficult and she eventually had to be sedated for her body to start healing. While the physical wounds were healing Black Canary feared for her mental state more than anything. They knew Jonathan Crane’s “studies”, Dinah preferred the term torture, focused primarily on fear and obviously something had worked. Just how much damage had been done for your meta-gene to activate?

Diana Prince’s face was the first you saw after waking from months of being in a medically induced coma. The League thought maybe seeing a woman first would induce less stress, it was a plus Diana was virtually indestructible. Diana hadn't bothered with the name Wonder Woman when introducing herself. She knew the woman before her already knew who that, the heroine, was. But she deserved trust in order to give it and her identity was a step. They already knew who the young woman was, it wasn't fair for her to be shrouded by more mysteries and half truths.

-----Past-----

A door opening brought Y/N's attention off the scuff on the wall she had been staring at since she woke. She made no movements and appeared serene as the noise registered in her ears. One could almost believe she was a normal person recovering from an injury, until you noticed the inhibitor collar ornamenting her neck like a choker she would've once thought fashionable when she had possession of her own mind. Her eyes would tell you anything you needed to know about her true state, the saying they were like windows to the soul rang true. Trapped inside the padded cell that was her consciousness she screamed and ran into the walls, searching for any way out of the prison she had been trapped in for months. While her body slumbered and healed peacefully her mind was a living nightmare she had been trapped in for months or maybe even years. She had no clue how long she had been held captive by her own self, her very own thoughts and past actions binding her. It was like a darker, more sinister version of herself lived within her. And with only herself to turn to she appeared, the bete noire, you knew she was Crane's creation. This couldn't have always been you, this thing that weaponized fear like it had been melded into a weapon of her own design. She used your fears against you, when you once thought you were invincible your very own mind was turning you into the same victims your hands had marred. The woman's strong voice brought you out of your torment.

"I know you must be confused, this is most likely the first time you've been completely lucid in years. My colleagues and I want to assist you, we know you've been given abilities you're unable to control. We can help you. I can help you, I want to help you. I know you know who Wonder Woman is but that isn't me, not really. My name is Princess Diana of Themyscira, but here I call myself Diana Prince." She sat next to your bed, unsure if she should touch you but decided with the collar there wasn't much you could do to hurt her. Grabbing your hand that remained strapped down by your side she spoke once more. "I can't promise you that you won't have to atone for your wrongs but I can promise that you and I will work together to right them. We will take back what is yours, and if you decide along the way to fight for more than yourself I will be here to guide you through that as well." A woman who hid behind nothing and no one who helped any thing and everyone, in the few words she had spoken to Y/N she had turned the tides in her mind even if it was only a little. Slowly you spoke, your words gravelly and harsh as the vibration of your vocal cords caused your throat discomfort. "I don't think anyone could ever look at me as a hero, not after what we - I - have done." Diana squeezed your hand as she replied, "We can’t help the way we’re born. We can’t help what we are, only what life we choose to make for ourselves." You could only manage a nod, still too exhausted to try and make sense of your situation. You knew you weren't with Crane and his goons anymore. This was a leg up from any situation you had been in before, with that you allowed yourself to sleep.

-----End Flashback-----

Diana is your best friend, she will always be your friend. The League had given you a home when you hadn't had one in years. They gave you safety and protection. The least you could do was offer it to the world in return. After a year of recovery you would be taking another step in the right direction. At least you hoped it was the right direction for you, it was the only way you could even begin to make up for the damage you had caused. Today would be your first mission as a hero, today your story wasn't being rewritten but given a sequel. You only hoped you could be a hero the League was proud of.

AN: Absolutely shit, i know. i be trying tho.