#Do I have to come up with a title for this? Maybe I'll wait on that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tswwwit · 3 months ago

Text

Here's a thing!

Containing: Bill as a widower, a surprise reincarnation, and dire threats of matrimony.

Despite how things turned out, Dipper has no regrets.

Okay. There is one: Getting caught in the first place.

But other than that, he’s lived his life the way he wanted to. Everyone told him joining the resistance was a terrible idea. That he had a bright future ahead of him, that he was smart, to not throw it all away for a useless, impossible task.

Like he could ever do anything else.

Even at the end of things, Dipper’s proud of what he accomplished. He helped so many people. He picked his fights carefully and mostly had them work out in his favor. He did the best he could, pushed himself to the very limits of his abilities, and it worked so well.

Bright future his ass. Fighting got him further than anything could. When you think of what he’s done. Where he’s clawed back territory. Who he’s saved-

A pang goes through his chest. Dipper ducks his head, hissing against the gag between his teeth.

Okay, second regret: Not saving more people. And not avenging others. Three regrets isn’t so bad. Right?

God, what else could he have managed, if he hadn’t been stupid. If he hadn’t slipped up this one time, if he could have escaped. If he could have-

“NEXT!”

Bill Cipher’s voice rings through the room. Two claps punctuate the statement, and the line moves forward.

Claws dig into Dipper arm, tighter than before. While they still don’t break the skin, the way he’s dragged forward has him hissing again. His skinned knees burn as they slide against stone, and the pain reminds him not to let up his guard.

Not here, in the Fearamid. There’s no worse place.

In a way, he’s kind of lucky. The massive pyramid that makes up Bill Cipher’s headquarters and fortress has never before breached. No member of the resistance has made it into the command base of the terrible demon who rules the west coast.

Dipper never thought he’d end up here, ever. The closest he’d imagined was in vague daydreams. The impossible kind where he had amazing powers, spouted cool one-liners, and could smash through the entire awful fortress to kick Bill Cipher right in his angles.

“Ugh.” Bill’s groan resonates through the room. “Why the hell would I need gold? Real crappy offering.” Another clap, then, “NEXT!”

Being tribute wasn’t exactly on Dipper’s bucket list.

So here he is. Dragged along by his captors to be one more present for the Nightmare King himself.

Demons try to slake their master’s insatiable greed with an endless parade of presents. The raiding never ends. The looting, the theft, the bribes - everything, everywhere gets poured into the coffers of this monster. Nothing is enough for him. It never will be.

So it’s pretty weird that Dipper’s here. By himself.

A hundred humans at once might provoke a passing interest. A few tons of liquor or - apparently not gold, no wonder that assassination attempt failed - could also catch his eye. Only the most elaborate, creative gifts might gain a bit of his favor, which is hard to get on a good day.

One human who really made Bill’s day worse, though? That might get a second look. Dipper didn’t think he was that big of a deal, but it would be kinda cool.

Or he wasn’t, and his captors will twist him into a new flesh configuration once they reach the front of the line, like performance art. Or he has been a pain, and when Bill finally gets his hands on him and can do whatever he wants to him, he’ll do unthinkably horrible -

No. Dipper can’t think like that, not now or ever. Fear won’t help. It never helps.

Terror one of Bill’s tools. He thrives on mortals cowering before him, and Dipper won’t do that.

He shakes his head to clear it, and gets the hood shoved further down for his efforts. The thin string around his neck draws tighter as a demon adjusts the cloth. Then it plucks at it, in an apparent attempt to make its captive look more ‘presentable’.

“You sure it’s-” One of the demons mutters above him. Another pluck at his hood pulls it upwards, and he hears a smack.

“Shh! Don’t show everyone ‘til we take credit,” insists the leader. Tension makes his voice rough. “You saw it. Just like in the pictures. Boss’ll love it.”

Sounds like they’re trying to reassure themselves rather than actually thinking this will go well. Dipper snorts. Amusement on the gallows.

All four demons shush him. He can practically picture them holding fingers to their mouths in unison, hissing at their captive. It makes him snort again, and a hand shoves his head down.

Shushed, of all things. The sheer absurdity makes him want to laugh.

Being captured was bad enough. All his hypervigilance turned out useless when it really counted. Everything he’d taken notes on, the plans, the studies - none of those mattered when he was dangling by his ankle from a snare in the woods like a helpless animal.

But the way he was taken captive? That was notable. A realization that only hit once he was stuffed into a box and had nothing to do except think - but an important one.

For one, most demonic traps leave their victims in multiple pieces. And for another, he wasn’t devoured afterwards. There was an odd amount of caution involved in his handling for a human with so little magic. Almost like they were frightened of doing it wrong.

And after that, he should have been smacked around and beaten for his defiance. Hell knows he didn’t take this bullshit lying down. But instead of ending up with open wounds and a broken jaw, there’s a bag over his head and rough cloth gag to shut him up.

In fact, aside from a few bruises and scrapes, Dipper’s perfectly fine. By all demonic standards, his entire kidnapping makes no sense.

Unless you know what Bill Cipher likes to do to humans.

Dipper tries to swallow past the lump in his throat. He hadn’t wanted to think of it. Now the idea won’t stop popping up, cold grey swimming through his thoughts.

There aren’t many pictures of Bill’s ‘sculpture’ garden. Most aerial shots just get the gist of it, a field spotted grey against green. Stone hands reaching for the sky or clutching their faces, thousands of bodies screaming for their life or hunkered down to the ground -

Swallowing again doesn’t help. His mouth is too dry, even when the gag is damp between his teeth.

Soon he’ll be one of the thousands of ornaments Bill makes of human lives, instead of killing them nice and clean. Another trophy.

Maybe it won’t hurt? Dipper hopes it doesn’t hurt. He hopes that that’s what he’s here for, rather than anything more creative. But it’s the only fate that makes sense.

A bit of cold comfort, then. He might not be mutilated. If he’s ‘just like the picture’ - whatever that means - then Bill will want him to stay exactly as he is.

It sounds absurd. But who knows? Odds are Bill Cipher has a type, and Dipper will make an exceptionally pleasant sight once he’s permanently a part of his estate. Maybe he’s got a thing for rebellious, fashionless nerds having the worst day of their life. Whatever goes on in that triangular brain is too weird for Dipper to fathom.

He hopes that being a statue is peaceful. Or at least not too painful. That it happens in a flash, like he’s seen in video. And if he’s lucky, the company he’ll keep for the next… forever might include his -

“Bo-ring,” Bill interrupts the next offering before the demon gets three words into their speech. “I’d say do better next time, but guess what?”

Two claps this time. Something explodes with a splatter, close enough that Dipper and his kidnapping coterie all flinch back.

“There won’t be another.” Bill finishes. He pauses for laughter at his dry semi-joke, then claps once more. “NEXT!”

The line of supplicants moves forward. Dipper’s knees skid across the floor as he’s dragged forward, sliding to a stop as his captors pause in their line.

They must be pretty far at the front by now. The group of demons in front of Dipper’s speaks excitedly to an unresponsive audience. He swears he hears a yawn.

Impressing Bill Cipher is difficult at the best of times. Doing it with one single human seems reckless even by Dipper’s limited knowledge, but excited murmurs keep darting over his head.

Either they know something he doesn’t, or there’s another factor in play. And hell, considering the tributes Dipper’s overheard, they could hardly do worse. Nothing’s impressed Bill so far. At best he’s waved off their offerings to be piled up with all the, quote, ‘other crap’.

The latest batch doesn’t fare any better than the previous one. Like last time, Bill groans and something goes ‘splat’. A sprinkle of unknown fluid hits Dipper’s knees, soaking into his jeans.

“Ugh,” Bill groans, low and extended. It seems like it’ll go on forever, until he hears, “NEXT!”

Dipper’s shoulders tense. His jaw clenches, arms and legs pressing against their bindings. None of which stops him from being pulled along in his kidnapper’s wake.

This is it, then. Facing the lord of dreams himself, eye to… cloth, Dipper doubts he’s going to get a real look at him.

Which might be for the best. Word is that Bill can manage terrible things to the human psyche, given the chance. Dipper’s very human, and he doesn’t have enough magic to defend himself even if anyone knew how to manage it.

So maybe it’s okay that he’s a little terrified, because it’s natural. And even more importantly, Bill won’t see it.

“My lord,” The demon that captured Dipper speaks in a gravelly voice. He’s a green-gray lizard creature, with several eyes, and his sheer amount of muscles belies a sharper mind than usual. Anyone who fought him might have made that mistake. “I found you somethin’ really cool.”

He sounds strangely excited about presenting a single mortal to his king. A hint of pride, maybe, that he kept it so intact? It could be difficult for demons, because Dipper’s sure never heard of it before.

His thoughts are interrupted by a slow push, sliding him forward across stone. Careful force, that lets him keep his balance instead of planting on his face. At least he’ll face his fate upright.

One more tribute. Sitting in front of a king, in a crowd of monsters, Dipper has his pride. And he will not bow.

And the response from Bill Cipher is… probably not what the leader wanted.

Dipper hears another groan, followed by a heavy sigh. “Wow. A human. Never seen one of those before.”

Ah, great. Sarcasm. Bill Cipher sounds as impressed with Dipper as he was with the dozen tributes before him - bored, tired, blase.

Dipper straightens his back, oddly offended. Wait, he doesn’t suck as tribute, right? Part of his pride hinged on his captor not being an idiot. It made losing less embarrassing.

“Ugh. Seriously getting tired of this crap.” Bill’s voice has a tinge of annoyance to it. Kind of a whine, even. “Like I don’t have enough in the rock garden already. The shine rubbed off that apple a while ago.”

“Er,” The lizard demon hesitates. “Uh, well. Nah, see, there’s-”

“Eh, whatever.” With another sigh, Bill snaps his fingers. “Alright, one statue, coming u-”

“Wait!”

The crowd hushes. A few gasps, a couple whispers at the sheer audacity. Even Dipper twists to look at his captor in sheer surprise. A useless gesture, he still has a hood over his freakin’ face. But, like. What?

That gruff voice burst out so quickly that it sounded almost defensive, and - what the hell is going on?

The too-busy hall has gone eerily quiet. Even the mad Nightmare King doesn’t speak, probably surprised at this act of open defiance.

“I- sorry, sorry, my lord. But, like, you’re gonna really like this one.” The demon continues, rapid like he’s on the verge of panic. But insistent, too. A tense excitement runs through his words. “You gotta take a look.”

Dipper blinks in a fruitless attempt to clear his eyes. Stupid fabric over his face. He’s flying blind here.

He wishes he could see everyone’s reactions. Mortals bore Bill at best. Aside from making them into decorations, he barely bothers interacting directly. One young human shouldn’t make a demon yell at Bill Cipher. He shouldn’t matter, or be important, or even register as anything. What the hell?

The crowd stays deathly silent. Bill doesn’t speak. A slow tapping of fingers thuds like a drum in the quiet, a slow contemplative beat.

The Lord of Nightmares holds his own counsel as he judges this outburst. Weighing his options.

“Huh,” Bill says, a second after Dipper thought everything would explode - “Got a lotta confidence in your prize, I see! Guess that’s kinda interesting.” His voice grows louder as he approaches, but there aren’t any footsteps. This monster floats. “Whatcha got there?”

“Well, he was runnin’ about messing up some stuff, and, well, we saw him and - y’know.” The lead demon continues babbling, voice rising to a squeak. Bill must have closed the distance, meeting him eye to multiple eyes. “And! And we made sure not to leave a mark or anything, we was real careful.” A beat of pause; presumably Bill giving him an askance look. “Aside from tying ‘em up, yeah? He woulda run off otherwise.”

“Huh.” Bill says, again. More thoughtful now.

The same thing Dipper might have said, if he wasn’t gagged. True, he hasn’t been beaten up for fun, or toyed with, or devoured. But he’d guessed it was to leave him a more presentable statue.

Said Nightmare King must be very close by now, intrigued by the semi-sales pitch - or maybe because there’s a secret. Dipper can feel warmth in front of him, radiating from an unseen source.

Another drumming, fingers on metal. Then, with a hint of a shrug. “Alright. Show me.”

The hood whips off, and Dipper gets a dizzying look at a massive room, black stone bricks and red lines, demons everywhere. Adjusting to the light takes a second, until his eyes land on the shape in front of him.

Dipper blinks a few times - then glares at this jackass.

Bill Cipher, King of Nightmares, conqueror of half the country and weird goddamn asshole, blinks right back.

Dipper’s seen this monster before, though not in person. Cipher’s always on the news. Appearing on TV and in print, whenever he conquers another piece of territory. His pictures are in magazines, photographs in articles, he has a few intimidating ad spots online - he’s everywhere, even on some forms of cash. It’s impossible to avoid this stupid shape.

And wow, none of that is photoshopped, huh. Turns out Bill’s exactly as weird as advertised. Polygonal and golden. Noodly limbs, top hat, everything.

A total, monstrous asshole.

Dipper strains at his bindings, rising up on his knees. Unfortunately, the gag’s still in place, so instead of cursing this jackass out like he wants to, it’s all muffled shouting.

Bill Cipher goes perfectly still. He hovers in place, a motionless midair shape.

His single eye has a split pupil, and it meets Dipper’s own without moving. Or blinking, either, even though it’s been long enough that Dipper gave up trying to match it.

He’s just. Staring.

Which is… honestly getting eerie. The motionless focus, the impenetrable gaze. Not intimidating, of course. But weird.

Dipper drops back with a huff. Great. He’s having zero effect on this guy. Not even annoyance, and he hoped there’d be some.

As a last ‘fuck you’, he lifts his bound hands in Bill’s direction, and flips him off.

Bill’s pupil narrows to a single thin line. He makes a strange, back-of-the-throat sound without any visible neck. Like he’s choking.

“So, uh,” The lizard demon rubs at the back of his neck. Greenish sweat pours down his scales, and he wipes it on his tunic in short swipes. “Do you-”

“Shut up and gimme.” Bill interrupts. He darts forward in a blink of motion, making grabby hands in the direction of Dipper’s face. “Gimme gimme gimme!”

Neither Dipper nor his captor have time to react. Bill simply seizes him by the shoulders, hauling him away from his captors and onto his feet so fast his shoes leave streaks on the floor.

“Mh!” Dipper yells against his gag, stumbling to catch his balance. It isn’t the most eloquent protest, but he hopes the ‘you jerk’ gets across anyway.

While Bill’s hands are relatively small, they’re impossibly strong. His grip on Dipper’s biceps feels close to bruising, slightly shaking in its intensity.

Bill tugs him closer. The bizarre pupil flashes through a series of shapes too rapid to parse. A second later it flips horizontal, sweeping a beam of light up and down Dipper, head to toe.

While it doesn’t feel like anything, Dipper does his best to wriggle away. He hopes it messes with whatever scan this bastard’s doing. He hopes it’s as annoying as this demon is. A kick aimed at one of Bill’s floating legs didn't land, but it was worth a shot.

Bill ignores his struggles. He laughs at the kicks, which deserves more kicking. He wraps those horrible noodle arms around Dipper's biceps like ropes and giggles when Dipper growls at him, flickering side-to-side in weird, glitchy glee.

The sound of his stupid laughter makes Dipper want to fight him all the harder - useless, of course, those arms only look noodly. They’re super-magically powered. But that doesn’t mean he won’t try.

“Oh.” Bill says, lower than before. He draws Dipper close, bringing him almost within headbutting range. “Oh, now this is beautiful.”

“Mh?” Dipper tries to glare to poor effect. Confusion and anger keep jockeying for space in his head, and he’s pretty sure it shows.

And Bill starts laughing, high and loud and wild. He’s glowing now, surface lit from within with a bright golden light.

“Well! Gotta say this is interesting!” Bill pushes him back slightly, at a human-ish arm’s length. Though he still keeps a solid grip on Dipper’s arms , squeezing tight. “But man, this wrapping’s crap! What happened to ribbons on presents, guys?” His eye rolls. “Lemme fix that.”

With that said, he grows a third arm from one of his sides and snaps his fingers.

The cloth of Dipper’s gag parts like it was clipped with scissors. The bindings on his wrists cleave open, the chains on his ankles explode off his socks, and it’s only because Bill’s still holding him upright that Dipper doesn’t fall over out of sheer surprise.

He wipes at his mouth - spitting out threads in the process, he’d really been trying to chew through the gag - and coughs. With his wrists untied, he can flex his fingers and drop his arms to his sides, hands clenched into fists.

Because now he’s… free-ish. For some reason. With Bill holding onto him there’s zero chance of getting away, but still.

Dipper works his jaw a little, to loosen it. Rubs his wrists to ease the low ache. There’s a huge crowd of demons in this immense hall, so. No escape routes, not when the place is packed with monsters like a can of sardines.

Eventually he has to admit he’s wasting time. The big problem is right in front of him, if he can just. Face it.

Taking a deep breath, he turns his head to look at the worst creature in the entire goddamn world.

Bill’s lower eyelid has risen up in a curve, kind of like a smile. Still laser-focused on Dipper’s face, boring into him as if he could see into his soul. Or maybe plotting a laser course through his prefrontal cortex.

But there isn’t any mockery. No taunting or yelling or stupid puns. None of the typical theatrics that you’d see on a news report. Just… more staring.

Dipper clears his throat. He tugs at the collar of his shirt.

The whole room has gone so, so quiet. He didn’t think it could get quieter than before, but that was people glancing at each other, waiting for a chance to leave the crime scene. A hush littered with bits of gossip and gasps, warnings passing between the crowd.

This silence is an indrawn breath. Held in anticipation.

So. Here he is. In front of the greatest, most powerful monster in history, and instead of being a cool dramatic confrontation, with like. Action, or a witty back-and-forth - it’s just awkward.

“Well, sapling?” Bill prompts, eye narrowing. He releases Dipper’s arms only to point directly at his face. Like he's accusing him of something. “Got anything to say for yourself?”

Dipper breathes in deep.

Okay, then. Space to talk? A chance to say whatever he wants?

Yeah. That he can work with.

“Fuck you, Bill.” He spits out the words, putting all the hate in his heart into the venom of his tone. He steps forward, getting right in this asshole’s… face? Surface? Whatever. “I hope you die. In a fire. And that your ugly-ass pyramid falls on you, and you get crushed in the rubble, and - and that your exoskeleton gets melted down for scrap, because you just suck that much.”

Bill… says nothing. No magic twists Dipper into a terrible shape. No pain jolts through his body.

And when Dipper dares to look him in the eye, his face reflects back from the infinite depths of Bill’s pupil, blown wide from the tiny slit of seconds ago. By this point it’s nearly a circle. Which is weird, and kind of intimidating -

But he’s not made of rock yet. Bill hasn’t retaliated, probably because he’s too stunned to react. And fuck him.

“And another thing,” Dipper continues, less steadily now. He didn’t have a speech prepared. But since he’s not dead, hell, might as well make the most of it. “You’re dumb as hell, and I hate you. So much. You’re the worst thing that could ever happen to m-”

Something goes ‘splat’ just beside him, making him flinch. Another wet sound lands nearby, followed by another, and another. A slow patter that builds in pace, rapid and thick.

Dipper stares in horror as literal, throbbing hearts pop up and circle around Bill Cipher’s top hat, spinning in a rapid circle. As more manifest, old ones fall to the floor like the world’s worst rainstorm, spattering red across the stone. Even his pupil is that same friggin’ organ now, pumping away in silhouette.

“Aha. Ha ha!” Bill’s voice raises in pitch with his laughter, and his fingers wiggle in anticipatory glee, just before his arms extend and coil around Dipper’s body, pinning his arms to his sides. “HA HA HA HA HA!”

Dipper opens his mouth to protest. Rather pointless in retrospect, though he does get out a “Hey!” as he’s lifted off the ground.

That stupid heart-rain has stopped, at least. Now it’s just Bill, glowing incredibly bright and giggling like the complete madman he is.

Dipper kicks out in protest, swearing and struggling. Bill’s dumb noodle arms have some give to them, but they’re wrapped tight enough that it doesn’t matter.

“YOU!” Bill’s voice was already loud, but now it resonates. Filling the hall with a boom, ringing against the walls. His eye has blown out to a circle again, and in the depths a few strange, starlike dots glimmer. “Of course it’s YOU! Nothing was gonna keep you away, was it? And now you’re back!”

This is the point where Dipper would protest again. Or threaten, or question or - something.

But it’s pretty hard to get words out when an insane demon is spinning you around like a carnival ride, complete with fireworks overhead.

Below him the crowd cheers, a raucous chorus. He could swear more demons are pouring in by the second into an already packed hall. Lights are going off and on in a strobe, with the pop of fireworks ringing overhead. Music blares from one corner, then another as stereo sound kicks on.

Between the explosions, the lightshow, the noise - Dipper would try to figure out what the hell is going on, if he weren’t trying not to be sick from the spinning.

Bill doesn��t seem to notice any of this, focused on the human he’s captured. Eventually he slows, letting Dipper touch solid ground again Dipper with a glimmer in his eye that instantly makes him wary. Something is up, and he doesn’t know -

“I know just what to do with you, kid.” Bill says, eye narrowing. Two hands come up and cup Dipper’s cheeks, strangely warm - “C’mere!”

Watching Bill’s eyeball drop back into its socket, and the huge, sharp teeth emerge from the mouth where his eye should be, Dipper knows immediately that this. This is how he’s going to die.

Then the eyelids purse into lips, and Bill hauls him in face-first.

“Mmmmwha!” A long, exaggerated sound. Pretty dramatic, really. Bill draws back, eye smiling at Dipper as he squeezes his cheeks with both hands. “Oh man! You have no idea how long I’ve waited for that!”

“Whuh.” Dipper says, intelligently.

Bill cackles, chucking Dipper under the chin, then tickling it with a couple fingers. “Ha! Did one little smooch rock your world?” His eye wiggles, with horrible, terrible implications. “Don’t worry, there’s way more where that came from!”

Dipper reels from the sensation of having his whole face - not eaten, or rearranged, but - His legs totter, but the arms around him keep him upright.

A million questions whirl around. None of them have answers. They simply spin and spin and spin until Dipper’s brain feels blank, like -

Oh. Okay.

Intellectually, Dipper knew that Bill could break minds. He just thought it’d be more gory and torturous. For some reason.

“And as for you-” Bill turns towards the cluster of demons that brought Dipper here, to this weirdo showcase. Under his gaze, even the most terrible monsters cluster together with nervous smiles. “Who’s in charge of your little outfit?”

Tentatively, arm shaking, the leader raises a hand. Bill’s eye snaps to it and he floats in, right in front of the lizard demon’s sweating, scaly face.

Then his lower eyelid rises in that strange emulation of a smile, and he gives him an incredibly hard high-five.

“Alright everyone, listen up!” Bill proclaims, turning towards the crowd. Grabbing the lead captor’s wrist, he raises it up like a winning prizefighter. “These guys get free drinks for the next two millennia!”

A cheer rises up from the crowd. The lizard demon’s mouth purses in a ‘o’ of delight, hands fluttering at his cheeks like a human winning a gameshow. Dipper spends a moment staring at the frankly bizarre site of a group of demons clutching each other like giddy highschoolers, bouncing in a circle.

“You heard it here first, guys! The boy is back!” Bill shouts. He whirls in a full circle, nearly giving Dipper a heart attack. It feels like any moment he’s going to fall, even when he’s wrapped up - “And you know what that means?”

Gasps bubble up from the gathered demons. A susurrus of voices starts, fluttering back and forth in the crowd.

‘Party’, is whispered from one corner. Another careful voice ventures to ask, ‘Party?’. The word repeats, flickering in and out of hearing as it spreads through the crowd. Off in the back a single voice lets out a loud ‘Wooo!’

“That’s right!” Bill is so, so loud, and so, so pleased. He holds Dipper overhead, bouncing him up and down. “Iiiiit’s PARTY TIME!”

An explosion of confetti covers the room. A disco ball drops from the ceiling, music bursts from unseen speakers, and Bill sets his captive down on the floor next to him. His arms uncoil, spinning Dipper around like a top until he thinks he’ll fall-

As the room reels around him, Dipper reaches out for the closest solid surface, leaning on it until the room stops whirling around him.

If the surface happens to be the worst asshole ever, well. He didn’t have any other options.

“Hell, free drinks for everyone tonight!” Bill shouts, to a huge, monstrous cheer from the crowd. Part of the room has transformed into a long bar, and a good third of the demons are already rushing towards it. “Get while the getting’s good, guys!”

Watching the stampede, Dipper’s too surprised to move, until the demon under his elbow does it for him.

“Stick close, sapling. These guys can get pretty rowdy!” Bill says. His metallic surface is warm, not quite hot to the touch. The corner pressing into Dipper’s side, though, that’s annoying. “Don’t want you getting lost again.”

A tight belt wraps around his waist and makes him startle - but it’s just Bill again. A small black hand pats his stomach twice before taking hold of his shirt.

And Dipper’s standing here, not dead. Not a statue, not an experiment. Kind of an offering, maybe, but a weird one. He’s just…

Standing beside Bill goddamn Cipher, unharmed by the most unhinged creature in the universe. And why the fuck is that?

An explanation has to be nearby. A reason. For everything.

Why he’s here. Why he got this reaction. Why this Bill is so not like the Bill on the news, and maybe even why demons are chanting ‘chug chug chug!’ to a monster bodysurfing the crowd, drinking from a bottle the size of his arm.

Dipper feels a glass pressed into his hand, cold with a slender stem. He holds it absentmindedly, glancing around the room and the raucous party kicking up, trying to find sense in the nonsensical.

The hall is huge, so. Fits a party atmosphere, he guesses. Bill himself has one ropy arm warped around his waist, with a grip on his shirt so tight he’s pretty sure it’d tear if he took off running. Behind them is the dais where Bill reigned over the tributes, making each and every decision from his throne -

Dipper does a double-take, glancing back over his shoulder.

A second throne sits next to Bill’s on the dais. Way harder to spot, though; it lies in shadow, unlike the brightly lit rest of the room. The dark grey blends with the shaded light until it nearly matches the black walls. A seat too small for any human-sized person, and too human-shaped for any different kind of person. Instead of either, a painting rests on the seat.

Easing out of Bill’s grasp is impossible, but with effort Dipper manages to twist around for a better look.

The painting is set in a gilded frame with elaborate designs - mostly triangle based, no surprise there - but the picture itself is of a human.

Sitting in the smaller throne is a portrait of a young man. Messy brown hair and a lean build, wearing casual clothes and a faint half smile. His head tilts towards the viewer, as if they just caught his attention. His expression looks like he heard a dumb joke and is ready to retort, amusement shining in his dark brown eyes. Beneath his bangs a series dots and lines in pink stands out, like a strangely shaped… birthmark.

Dipper’s hand flies to his chest. His heart feels like it’s stopped for a second.

No, wait. That can’t-

He whips around, getting a ‘hey!’ from Bill who nearly spills his martini at the motion. Dipper smacks him out of the way, his hat is blocking the view.

Now that he’s spotted them, they’re impossible to miss. One portrait hangs out to the left of the throne, sleepy-eyed and cowlicked hair blinking in the viewer's direction. On the right a shirtless human lounges on a couch, jeans slightly undone. Another hangs from the ceiling of all things, glaring down at Bill’s throne from above like an annoyed god.

Shit. The pictures.

They all look exactly like Dipper.

“Geez, aren’t you squirmy? Ha! Figures!” Bill says, floating closer. When one of his arms loops around Dipper’s neck and he tousles his hair, it meets a man gone still as a statue. “You’re always a pain in the angles! It’s adorable!”

“What the fuck is this.” Dipper can’t even make it a question. His voice is too tense to rise at the end.

Bill’s eye swivels from his face, to the portraits, then back again. It rolls in its socket so far back it comes around again. “You. Duh.”

“How-” No, that’s not the right question. “What- Wh- huh?”

Not his best showing. Words aren’t working right; they fail him along with his usually organized thoughts. Dipper can’t concentrate. His mind filled with too much weird and why and - in an insane section of his brain - an incredulous, really, Bill?

“Oh, that.” Bill says, flicking away dismissively. He gestures over the portraits, the party, and then at himself. His arm makes another loop around Dipper’s neck, loosely draped. “What’s to wonder about? It’s simple!”

“Is it.” Dipper says, flat. He stares forward, even as the arm snakes around and around his torso in two loose loops.

“Absolutely!” Bill’s voice drops as he closes in. Not quiet, but muted enough to not be heard over the party crowd. “See, you got away from me once, kid. And fair enough, that’s what mortals do!” The stem of the martini glass shatters in his grasp, and he drops the remains with a casual flick. “They die on ya!”

Dipper glances at the portrait on the throne, then back to Bill. Tries to swallow, though his mouth feels dry with a sudden, looming realization.

“But there’s no escape this time. Never again.” Bill's eye narrows, so close to Dipper's face it's nearly touching. “Prepare for happily ever after.”

#This is not a oneshot #I actually have a whole plot for this and everything #God help me #Do I have to come up with a title for this? Maybe I'll wait on that #In my docs it's called marrying the grief-mad demon scourge but I'll probably pick something Punny #As is my fashion

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parfaitblogs · 1 month ago

Text

in a world of boys, he's a gentleman ❀ s. reid x reader

in which your night out comes to an end, and your boyfriend has to try to keep your wandering hands off of him.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff tags: alcohol consumption. reader is drunk. reader is a brat. spencer is so exasperated. but he loves you so bad. age gap probably. suggestive content. word count: 2.1k a/n: oh my god i miss having a man to pick me up and love me when im drunk #thisshouldbeme final boss level 1000. simple fun fluff i love when he's nice to us i should do this more often. circa summer 2024 ass title i'm rebuilding spencer reid tumblr brick by brick.

You were never meant to be this drunk.

Truly, you had grandeur plans for it to be a one and done night. Entertain the birthday girl — your best friend — with your presence and take care of her, for it is her night, and then go home and pass out early enough in dark green sheets and the sound of your boyfriend sleeping next to you.

You'd even told him about these plans.

Instead? He's staring down at his phone with a locked jaw, and four different messages from you glaring back up at him. Incomprehensible, if he weren't as smart as he were. If he weren't as attuned to you and your mannerisms down to the way you text. A man who doesn't even like texting, and he's memorised how you do.

Something about him picking you up, maybe, if he wants. Another thing about you finding him pretty. Another with a photo of the — and he quotes — really good vodka coke the bartender made you (he's certain it tastes the same as the last three you mentioned drinking). Finally, a photo of you in the bathrooms, arms around your best friend, grinning at the mirror through your phone, showing off your outfit to him. As if he hadn't memorised, documented, the way the skirt looked on you when you left hours earlier.

When he doesn't reply to a single message, you call him, and endearment for you grows, for he can hear the pout on your lips as you speak into the phone.

"Why're you ignorin' me?" you mumble, which isn't much help considering how loud the world around you is, your voice nearly drowning out.

"I'm not, honey," he says. "I only just checked your messages. I was about to respond."

"Liar. You're ignoring me. You hate me."

"I can assure you I don't," he's amused. He's so stupidly amused, you want to kick him for it. You don't. You can't. Instead, you let him keep sweet talking you out of your predisposed anger. "Are you having a good night?"

"Yes!" you brighten almost immediately. "Did you see the photo I sent?"

"Of your outfit? Yeah, angel. You look pretty," he's practically perfected how to talk to you when drunk. You're oblivious to it, always too intoxicated to register he is extra nice when you're barely able to hold yourself upright.

"Thank you," you reply, and he can hear the fluster. "Look prettier in—in person."

"I know. I saw you before you left, remember?"

"Oh. Yeah," your cheeks heat, and you roll your bottom lip between your teeth. The bricks are a juxtaposing cold against your back. Rough, too. Oddly comforting. "Are you busy? Am I keeping you from somethin'? S'that why you were ignorin' me?"

"No," he replies. "I'm waiting for you to be ready to come home. Is that why you're calling?"

"Mm-mm," you shake your head, giggling to yourself because you remember he can't see that. He doesn't know why you're laughing, but he smiles at it nonetheless. "Jus' wanted to hear your voice. Miss you."

"I miss you too, honey," he says, and you can hear that smile in his voice.

"What're you doin' then?" you ask, staring at the door to the club you had deserted, keeping an eye out for your friends to emerge.

"Reading."

"Reading what?"

"Sofia Petrovna," he tells you, and, as if he can see the way your eyebrows furrow, he adds, "Russian novel by Lydia Chukovskaya. I'll find a translation so you can read it, I think you'd like it."

"You should jus' read it to me right now," you mumble, crouching down to the floor, resting your head on your knees. "Translate for me."

"You most certainly won't remember a thing I'm saying. Where are your friends?"

"In the club. It got overstimulating," you tell him.

There's a pause on the other end of the line, and an excuse about how you can actually see your friends still — you can't — manifests on your tongue, preempting the scolding he's no doubt formulating.

However, two simple, stern — but not too scary — words kill the faux reassurance immediately. "You're alone?"

You hesitate. "...No?"

"Can you go find your friends, please? I don't want you outside alone."

"Yes, sir," you stand back up. His jaw clenches, biting back his reprimand. He doesn't have the energy to lecture you about the dangers of being this drunk alone, and he's sure you wouldn't appreciate it anyways. Or remember it. "I will call you back later! Bye! Love you!"

He continues to hear from you for the two hours following. A photo once you find your friends to assure him you're safe, a mistyped message about how you love him more than anything in the world, another asking if he's mad at you when he doesn't reply. Eventually, you're calling him again, chatter from the smoker's lounge you'd disappeared into loud, but he can faintly make out you asking him to pick you up.

He finds himself in an empty enough street just a block away from the last club you told him you were going to, waiting.

There were people everywhere, just past the corner of the street. Girls with their bags hanging limply down by their calves, fast food paper bags held up to some of their mouths. Never his scene, but he's shown up enough for you since you started dating to know what he's looking out for.

He can see you before you spot him, but when you do, he can't fight the smile at the sight of you brightening up in an instant. Distantly, he hears you call his name, pointing him out to your friends and stumbling towards the car.

"Hi!" you collapse against the passenger's seat door, window open and waiting for you, as you lean into the car.

Recognising the offer for what it was, he leans across the console to kiss you before you can start drunkenly accusing him of not loving you. Or whatever you can come up with to start a baseless, completely harmless argument with him.

"Hi, honey. Good night?" he asks as you finally pull open the door, settling into the seat with a sigh, head nodding as you peel your shoes off of your feet and curl up.

"I think so," you murmur, hair covering your face as you drop your head, and a yawn stretches your mouth open. "I'll tell you all about it t'morrow."

"Can't wait," he muses.

"You never answered me," you then say — which is generous, considering he could barely make out a word — looking over at him. "'Bout if you're mad."

"I wasn't mad," he reassures you. "Just worried. Thought we talked about not being out and alone when you're this intoxicated?"

"Yeah. I know. Sorry."

Tomorrow, as it turns out, follows a quiet drive home for you to collect your thoughts, and his helping hands at removing your makeup and getting you into the shower. A year old promise that he will always force you under the water before bed no matter what protests you come up with.

Now, here you are, rambling his ear off animatedly on the edge of the bathroom sink, as he brushes a wet comb through your hair.

He's listening intently, soaking in every word you were saying about your night out, even if it entirely made no sense to him. Your attempt at stringing together your night's events was poor at best, and he's pretty sure you've re-explained four times that you went into then night with fake names and backstories to try and fool everyone.

"And then we went to... um... I forgot the name. But it was free entry, so we went in, obviously, and this guy bought us drinks because of the birthday sash she was wearing, so that was awesome. That was the vodka coke I sent you, it was so goo—can I have a kiss?"

Your request catches him off guard, and the comb clatters to the basin beside you when his hand drops from your hair.

"Is that all you want?" he hums, leaning forwards. His lips brush against your own, and you smile.

"Yep. Just a kiss," you chirp, slouching your shoulders so you could look up at him with wide eyes you know all too well he can't deny. "Please?"

You just had to ask so nicely, and he was left with very little choice in the matter in the end.

He kisses you for only a second, aiming to pull away and successfully get you into bed before you can take this any further.

Ever so sneaky, though, you catch your fingers into his hair and tug him back into you, legs hooking around his waist to keep him locked. His hips knock the cabinets, but he's distracted by your lips back on his to fully register the hit.

"Honey," he mumbles against your lips. A warning, you think. It sounds it.

You don't listen.

Instead, you inch closer to the edge of the basin until he's forced to roll his hips into yours to push you back, saving you from falling off.

You whine, and the sound has him coming back to reality, deftly pulling away from your lips. You protest, quietly, and he's forced to tangle a hand in your hair to tug your head back, keeping you away from him.

"No," he says, firmly. If you were sober, maybe you'd back down under the demand. Then again, if you were sober, he wouldn't be saying no to you. Instead, his tone of voice only makes your smile widen, and your skin tingle.

"It was just a kiss," you protest, slipping off the sink once he steps back, letting him guide you like a lost puppy back into his bedroom. "Spencer?"

"No it wasn't," he says, hand on your back as he navigates you over to his bed. "We've talked about this."

He sits down before you, and despite the scolding, lets you climb over him into the bed anyways, hips straddling his waist as he lays back on the bed.

"Just a kiss. I promise," you affirm, breath warm against his lips.

He gives in, as he always does, and lets you kiss him again.

Hips square above his, chest pressing on his, fingers ruffling the sheets beside his head. You kiss him until you're out of air, and convinced he's drunk enough on your taste to let you go further.

He isn't.

"Behave," he quips when your hand drops to his waistband, his fingers catching your wrist and lifting it back up. You're too focussed on the way his hand fits around the joint to argue.

"I am," you huff, tilting your head with a lopsided grin. "Didn't do anything!"

"Brat," he pinches your hip, and you squirm, bursting into a fit of giggles. "Go to bed."

"Can't. You've got me caged up on top of you," you jut your chin out. "Maybe you're the problem."

"Yep. Sure am," he confirms, letting his arms around you go slack, just to watch you fall off his chest and to the mattress beside him. "Sleep."

"Or what?"

He pushes air out of his nose, but it's all too difficult to stay frustrated with you when you're staring up at him with the hugest smile on your face. You know exactly what you're doing — and he's just letting you.

He thinks he will forever.

He pauses in choosing a response. "Do you want me to be nice when I wake you up tomorrow?"

"Depends," you study him, eyes narrowing; drunken skepticism. "What's your version of nice?"

"You're a smart girl. Figure it out," he kisses your nose, "and go to sleep."

"Are you being suggestive?" you sit up abruptly, and his palms find comfort in his face, running down it. "Spencer."

"I'm not answering that. Go to sleep, honey."

"I can't. Why would you say that? You're such a tease. Oh my God. I hate you," you moan, dramatically falling back down to the bed, head finding the space between his shoulder and his neck. "Do you promise?"

It's like he knows you're giving up, for his voice has dropped into a drawl, exhaustion he'd been expertly masking coming out as he speaks. "Promise what?"

"To wake me up nicely?"

"If you're good and go to sleep now, yes."

"Pinky promise?" his eyes are now closed, but you still search his face with keen interest. He smiles. He can feel it.

"Pinky promise," he affirms, and he finally — finally — fully relaxes as he feels you curl into him. "Goodnight, honey."

"G'night, Spence."

#lia’s fics ♡#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer x reader #spencer x self insert #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fluff

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miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 3 months ago

Text

then send me a son

pairing: joel miller x reader

cws/tags: so much angst (w/ happy ending! i swear), discussion of suicide attempt (the canon one), suicidal ideations, losing a child, losing a parent, survivors guilt, discussions of abortion, unplanned pregnancy, p in v, oral sex, virginity loss (but it's not that big of deal/not a kink), both dealing w grief, ellie is dead, this is set in jackson post tlou pt I

summary: joel is put on suicide watch after he returns to jackson w/o ellie and reader becomes his 'caregiver' of sorts. lowkey enemies to lovers but also not bc it's kinda one-sided 'hatred'

a/n: author is pro-choice! and also understands the complexities of mental health that reader and joel do not at times (just wanted to make it clear that i understand... from personal experience... what depression is like as well as suicidal ideation).

title is from the song 'the suburbs' by arcade fire, but listen to the entirety of the suburbs (album) and funeral (album) if you want to understand my mindframe while writing this

the last sentence is a quote and i've reblogged it before but i'll find the image and post it/reblog it again

wc: 9.4k

masterlist | ko-fi | taglist

Joel is just surprised Tommy has the gall to ask, “Where’s Ellie?” when he arrives in Jackson alone.

In this world, when two people leave and only one comes back, you don’t ask because you already know what happened. You wait for that person to tell you about a miracle, and when they don’t, you know for sure.

“Heaven, if you believe in that sort of thing,” is Joel’s response.

But Joel doesn’t believe in Heaven or Hell, or anything other than ashes and dirt.

“I don’t know what to say,” Tommy says because he’d already said ‘I’m sorry’ when Sarah died, and that didn’t bring her back.

It takes a hefty amount of booze to get Joel to tell the story.

“I just hope she died for something. Then, at least, I’ll know I’m being selfish.”

I didn’t get that with Sarah, he thinks. She didn’t die for a ‘noble cause’. He doubts Ellie did either.

“You’re being put on watch,” Maria tells him the next morning – when he’s sober and asking what his duties are now that he’s back.

Life goes on, which means work goes on, so what’s my job? As long as it’s not burning bodies, I’ll be okay.

“Watch? Like I’m watching, or I’m being watched.”

“Being watched.”

He asks why, though he doesn’t need to. Tommy knows why he’s got that scar on his forehead.

“Fucking authoritarian bullshit,” he mutters, half into his pillow. “Thought you were a communist.”

“I am. And this has nothing to do with that.”

“I bet Tommy put you up to it anyway.”

“He didn’t ‘put me up to anything’.”

“But he told you, didn’t he?”

“He told me a long time ago.”

“Figures. You always knew I was a coward.”

“You say stuff like that, and then act like you don’t need help.”

“I didn’t say I don’t need help. I said I don’t want it.”

She’s silent, letting him continue. “Now let me grieve in peace, will you?”

She hums something akin to agreement, but asks for something that sounds like protest to him. “Where’s your gun?”

“Which one?”

“All of ‘em.”

He tells her because he doesn’t want Tommy or anyone else searching through all his bullshit because that’s what happens if he doesn’t give ‘em up.

“Want my kitchen knives too?” he says, almost wryly.

She takes most of them, but leaves the more blunt ones out of sympathy. He can have butter on his toast. Unless she takes the toaster so he can’t take it with him in the bathtub.

She leaves the toaster, and then, leaves him alone.

Quite frankly, he’s too old to kill himself. Sure, people do it at his age, but he’s so goddamn tired. Moreover, he knows he could get someone else to do it pretty easily. Maybe he could be a martyr. He could save someone from a clicker or a soldier. He could save someone’s life for once. But would that be enough to save his soul? To make it to Heaven and see Ellie and Sarah again?

Maybe, he would, if God really does love people the way some say he does. But if Joel was God, he’d deny himself entry.

He stays in bed for the rest of the day. Aside from the two times he eats. And once in the middle of the night to take a piss because he may be depressed, but the last of his dignity is motivation enough not to wet the bed.

He doesn’t shower or change his clothes. Not like he’s wearing a shirt anyway, just boxers ‘cause it’s too hot outside and he doesn’t want to get up and turn on the fan. Sleep doesn’t come easy, but it comes. It comes because it has to, reluctant as it is.

He wakes up to the voice of an unfamiliar woman. Quieter than Ellie or Sarah, less stern than Maria or Tess. Not like he was expecting to hear from three out of four of those women, not outside of his dreams.

You’ve always cared about people, saving lives and all that. But you’re no good with a gun, so Tommy finds a better job than patrol for you.

“You’re going to be watching my brother, Joel.”

“Like, spying on him?”

“No, like making sure he doesn’t kill himself.”

A suicidal man is nothing new, especially in this world, but Tommy’s bluntness about it is. He acts as if it’s a normal job. Like the ones in office buildings that sound wonderful even though the people who tell you about them assure you it was barely better than life is now. This new watchmen position is the same as patrol, in a way. Terrifying in the gravity it holds. You have to keep someone alive.

You can shoot deer, you can run quickly, you can hide well. You can survive on your own. But, at age 10, your mom bled out as you sat by her side. You were too weak to carry her, to dig a grave and bury her. Your survival feels unearned, but you’re no good with guns. You’d miss if you tried to do it. That’s a rare thought anyway, and surely not one you plan to ever speak aloud. They’d put you on watch too, which sounds suffocating, in all honesty.

You don’t know Joel. You’ve heard his name in passing, but you arrived in Jackson during the period of time he was gone. He was going to take some girl to some hospital for something or other.

“What about that girl?” you ask. “Is she not taking care of him?”

“She’s not around anymore.”

“Oh,” you say.

He just nods. The ‘why’ of the whole arrangement makes sense, but you’re still unclear on the ‘how’. Am I just supposed to stay in his house 24/7? Is he allowed to shower on his own? Do I have to cook or do laundry?

“Just check in on him. He’s not the most… personable, but don’t take anything he says to heart.”

Just check in on him. It sounds simpler than it will be, you know that much. Even keeping a plant alive takes more than ‘checking in on it’.

You arrive at his house around 10 AM. You assume he’ll be awake, but when you look around his living room and kitchen, you can’t find him. Oh God, you think. What if he’s…

He’s asleep in bed. You’re pretty sure. He’s lying there and there’s no evidence that anything’s wrong, but when you say his name from the doorway, he doesn’t move. So, you walk closer to him, just to make sure he’s breathing.

“Joel,” you say softly – because your other option is reaching out to touch him, and you feel that’s a little too personal, especially when he’s not wearing a shirt.

“Who the Hell are you and how did you get into my house?” he says.

“Tommy sent me.”

“Oh, so they’re making you watch me?”

“Yeah.”

You’re glad he knows about the arrangement. Maybe he’ll give you some direction on what to do with him.

“Must hate you if they stuck you with me.”

You can’t tell if he’s being ironic, but you hope so. Still, you don’t know how to respond. You decide on a simple, “I’ll let you get some sleep. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”

Though you’re alone in the room, you sit with perfect posture on Joel’s couch, looking around at the decor – or lack thereof – looking for clues about who this man is.

You think about making him breakfast, but you’d have to raid his cabinets to do so, and you’re terrified to make any missteps when it comes to Joel. You don’t think he’ll kill himself over burnt toast, but there is a persistent need lodged inside your brain to make him like you. It’s a little selfish when you should be focused on just keeping him alive, but maybe if he likes you, he’ll feel better, maybe you’ll feel better too. That’s still nothing but the ever-lingering hope in your heart. But it’s something.

He comes downstairs eventually, in a t-shirt and a pair of pajama bottoms.

“Good morning,” you say.

“No, it ain’t,” he says, heading in the direction of the kitchen.

“Do you want me to help you with anything? Breakfast or coffee?”

“I can make my own damn coffee, kid.”

And he does. The first shred of kindness you get from him is an offer to pour you a cup.

“I’m alright, but thank you.”

He sits down in a chair across from you and sips his coffee as you watch him awkwardly.

“Are you really gonna do that all day?”

“Do what?”

“Sit there and stare at me.”

“I don’t know what else to do.”

“You could leave, for starters.”

“I’ll get in trouble.”

“What? You afraid Tommy’ll get upset with you?”

“A little.”

“He’s a softie. I wouldn’t worry too much.”

You are worried. Sure, you want Tommy to be happy with you, but moreover, you don’t want to leave Joel alone lest something happen to him. You might not know the guy very well, but you’d hate to see someone take their own life.

“Can I just stay here? I promise I’ll leave you alone.”

He shrugs, and you take it as a yes.

He does not need a caregiver or a watchman. He does not need you, but you look like a kicked puppy and there’s no way he’ll force you to leave. Another young girl he’ll reluctantly let stick by his side. It’s almost cruel of Tommy to send someone like you. Someone young and full of life. Someone he has a hard time pushing away.

He should’ve sent Joel a crotchety old bitch or a drill sergeant. Maybe Tommy thinks he’s doing Joel a favor by giving him a nice girl, polite and eager to please. It’s a good thing your chipper attitude irritates him. It’s the first item on the very small list of qualities that Joel dislikes.

At first, he insists on making his own food. You’re still a guest, even if he’s reluctant to have you as one. It doesn’t matter where he lives, he’ll always have been raised in Texas. He’ll always hear his mother calling him out on his lack of manners. His hospitality is force of habit.

Plus, if he lets you do anything for him, he’ll owe you something – at least in his mind. And he doesn’t want to owe anyone anything. He doesn’t want to give or get or build any kind of rapport with you whatsoever, especially since you seem to take all attention as progress, despite the fact that Joel is harsh with you most of the time.

The whole ordeal makes him feel like more of a failure than he did before. He couldn’t save Ellie, or Sarah for that matter, and now he’s being forced into his own retirement or held hostage depending on how you look at it, so he can’t even get the satisfaction that productivity brings.

He also finds himself pretty fucking bored without work. He became so used to being in constant battle, even in his sleep. One wrong move and he was dead. The worst injury he’s gotten in the past few weeks was a paper cut.

Reading was never his biggest hobby, but it’s not bad when you find the right book. Often, you’ll sit across the room from him and read a book of your own, and the silence as he relaxes into the couch is quite peaceful for a change.

No amount of peace and quiet can cure his boredom, though. It makes him antsy, and you notice. You notice a lot when your job is just staring at him, it seems.

“I found a book of crossword puzzles,” you announce.

“Congratulations,” Joel says.

“I thought since you were bored, I’d give them to you, and maybe you could do them…”

By the look on your face, he can guess that you’re regretting your words. Lest he make you cry, he accepts the book.

“Plus, it looks kind of old so I don’t know if I’d know how to do it myself,” you add.

He knows you don’t mean it as an insult, but it sounds like one, and it makes him laugh. The list of qualities Joel likes about you is already long — and buried deep in his subconscious — but he’ll have to add the fact that you can make him laugh.

“Are you calling me old?”

“Not in a bad way. You’re just older than I am.”

He flips through the book and finds that about 80% of them are done.

“Somebody did most of these already.”

“I’m sorry… maybe I could erase that person’s answers and then you could do them?”

“I think I’d still be able to tell.”

You hang your head in defeat.

“Gimme a pencil and I’ll try the ones that aren’t done yet.”

You look through his junk drawer, find a pencil, and hand it to him. He doesn’t expect you to sit on the couch next to him.

“I know you’re supposed to watch me, but you don’t have to watch that closely.”

You move away slightly, no longer looking over his shoulder.

“I was just curious about the answers.”

“I was kidding around,” he says (though, it’s only a half-truth). “Come back here.”

It takes him about a week to finish the book.

“Had to go back and fix some of the others,” he says. “The person who originally filled ‘em out was an idiot.”

“That’s not very nice. Maybe it was a kid.”

“Kid had great handwriting, then.”

You pause, hesitating for a reason he can’t pinpoint.

“What? You want me to say sorry for calling that guy an idiot. ‘Cause I will if it matters that much to you.”

“No, no, fuck that guy, he was an idiot,” you say, clearly taking after him.

“Language, Missy,” he says, jokingly scolding you.

“Sorry. I should stop swearing.”

“It’s okay. You probably picked it up from me anyway.”

“Maybe,” you agree. You’re fidgeting, holding something behind your back, he notices.

“Whatcha got there?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, really,” you say, holding it out to him. “I just figured since you finished the crossword book, I should get you more.”

He only did the crosswords for you. He never really cared for them anyway. He just wanted to make you happy — he’d rather have you content than pissy or whiny. The only thing worse than your constant insistence on getting his approval would be if you just sat there and cried all day.

He’d tried to give the book back to you, but you couldn’t do ‘em on your own since you were lacking in 90s pop culture knowledge. So, he did them, with you watching over his shoulder the whole time.

He’s about to admit this to you and hand the new one back over to you when he looks at the pages – white paper, stapled together, all drawn up in pen.

“Did you make these?” he asks, in awe of both your ability to draw perfectly straight lines, and moreover, how much you must care if you’re willing to go to these lengths. Kiss-ass behavior, he tells himself.

You nod, and he gets the sudden urge to hug you, but opts for a thank you with a smile he can’t repress.

“You didn’t have to do all this, but it’s very sweet of you.”

He considers taking back the ‘very sweet’ comment when he finds that 3 down is four letters with the prompt “grumpy old man”. JOEL fits perfectly in the blank spaces.

You go on walks, read endless books, and Joel finally lets you start taking on some of the housework. It should be nice, but you get the feeling he’s not all that happy about this situation. Not that he tells you it outright. He doesn’t tell you much at all. And you’ve tried. It’s not like you’re asking hard-hitting questions.

“How old are you?”

“56.”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Blue.”

He doesn’t even bother to ask the same question back to you. Sometimes, he doesn’t even look up at you when you speak to him. You know it’s the depression of losing someone close to you, you know what that feels like – the problem is, you don’t know how to fix it. You only know how to hide it.

It’s quite simple, in theory. All you have to do is give him the desire to get out of bed every day. But you don’t even know what he likes. All you know is that your presence is not high on his list of favorite things. You try and try until you swear his shitty attitude is rubbing off on you.

Tommy checks in with you periodically, asking you how things are going with Joel, and this would be the perfect opportunity for you to get out of this position, which Joel would probably love, but to spite him, you tell Tommy it’s going well.

And it is, in a way – Joel is not actively mean to you. He doesn’t insult you or argue with you, he just mostly ignores you. So, you figure if you ignore him, maybe he’ll miss your attention. Stupid teenage bullshit mindset, acting like you have a crush on him, playing some sort of push and pull game that he’s not even privy to.

But that’s not like you. That brooding behavior is all Joel, so it lasts no more than a day or so until you go back to trying, and accept the fact that he’s just an asshole. Doesn’t mean you have to be one.

You never expected to win him over with the crossword puzzles but you see the look in his eyes when you give him the homemade ones, and you know there’s something in there besides all that pain. You know that look, can’t put a name to it, all you know is that it’s a good sign, one you had yet to see from Joel.

Joel wouldn’t have thought he’d get tired of hearing someone ask, “can I do anything for you?”, constantly begging to dote on him, to care for him. The last time someone did this for him was on Father’s Day, which is an ancient holiday now, almost mythical.

But it’s been weeks of the same old shit. It has nothing to do with you. In fact, you’re probably the best ‘caregiver’ he could’ve gotten stuck with. Thing is, though, he doesn’t want a caregiver, and he’s tired of said caregiver bombarding him. It’s enough to just have her watching him like a hawk, but yapping in his ear is another thing. Because he enjoys the quiet (and because the way you ask him questions reminds him of Ellie.)

It’s a joke, a stupid joke. It’s his patience wearing thin.

“Can I get you anything?” you ask.

“Sure. A beer, maybe. And a fuckin’ blowjob,” he mutters. Yeah, that’d be the dream but it’s a joke, bordering on a jab at you.

“I don’t think we have any beer,” you say. You both know damn well there’s no alcohol in the house.

“I know.”

“And, as for the other thing- is that something that you’d want… me to do?”

“Hey,” his tone softens. “Sweetheart, it was a joke. I was messing with you.”

“Okay, so you don’t want that, correct?”

“It was a joke. I’m sorry I even said it.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you say, sheepishly. “It’s your house, your rules, right?”

The concept of free speech in his house was one he’d brought up regarding ‘swear words’— It’s his house so he’s allowed to say ‘fuck’, ‘shit’, ‘bitch’, and every other word he could come up with, and he came up with some deep cuts just to make you laugh. Admittedly, it’s a nice sound.

“Yeah.” He thinks for a moment. “I just think that these sorts of topics aren’t appropriate for someone…”

“You know I’m an adult, right, Joel?”

“Yes, I know, but you’re still young and you seem a little innocent. I don’t want to put those types of thoughts in your head.”

“I know what a blowjob is, and I know what sex is. I just haven’t found the right person yet. That doesn’t mean I’ve never thought about it or whatever.”

You rarely snap at him, so he knows that word — innocent — must’ve been more offensive than he’d meant it. Maybe you’re not innocent. Maybe you’re just kind and a hell of a lot younger than him. Maybe it just seems like you should be.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m just saying that I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“But do you want it?” You punctuate every word with a newfound annoyance.

“It’s not about that.”

“Yes it is.” You’re quite incredulous for someone who has been presented with the idea only a moment ago.

“Fine. Yes, in theory, if we were just two people who know each other, then, sure, if you offered, I’d say yes.”

“I offered.”

The way he calls you ‘sweetheart’ feels more like an insult than a term of endearment. You’d rather be ‘kid’ or nothing at all, anything less patronizing. It’s worse when he calls you innocent. You’re not innocent, you’re just nice — something that Joel is not. You’re painfully nice. You’ve heard it makes people like you. You’re still waiting on the results, though.

But, if he’d ordered you to suck him off, you’d have kneed him in the balls, and he would’ve thought twice about calling you ‘sweetheart’. The thing is, he doesn’t. Instead, he backs away from the opportunity, tells you it was a joke.

But you see two things behind his eyes: one, he wants this. He might not want to want this, but he does. More importantly, you see his genuine concern for your well-being override this desire and you realize you feel safer around him than you do around most men. That’s one of the reasons that you do give him ‘a fuckin’ blowjob’. The other being that, sometimes, before you go to bed, you can’t sleep, and a certain man comes to mind as your fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties.

When you reiterate that you offered, you exchange a long stare wherein you try to reach into each other’s souls and sort this shit out but when you both realize you can’t, Joel says, “Okay.”

And you say, “Okay.”

A new kind of tension bubbles to the surface as Joel sits down on the couch and you kneel before him.

You fiddle with his belt, eventually managing to get it undone, but Joel does the rest of the work it takes to get his pants down to his ankles, boxers too.

You’d imagined he’d be big, but that’s how fantasies work. Every man’s dick is big in your lewd daydreams, but it’s like you manifested it with Joel. You begin to feel like you’re in over your head, and though you aren’t innocent, you aren’t experienced enough to take him. But who are you to back down from a challenge?

Joel can see hesitation wash over your face for the first time. You pause, study the scene like you’re trying to decide your approach, and then you take his cock in your hand, looking up at him like you’re asking for the green light.

He gives you the go-ahead with the only piece of advice he thinks you’ll need. “Just don’t bite, and you’ll do fine.”

He probably should’ve mentioned another thing: don’t take too much at once or you’ll choke. His head lolls back and his eyes fall closed the moment your lips meet the tip of it. He doesn’t touch you, doesn’t want you to feel intimidated by his presence while you’re exploring, so to speak. He lets out a low groan of approval to let you know he’s still with you.

But he’s fading into a beautiful oblivion until he hears you gag, feels you sputter and it shocks him out of that blissful feeling. His eyes snap open and he cradles the back of your head.

“Easy, easy,” he says. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

You pull away briefly and catch your breath.

“That’s good,” he says. “Breathe, baby.”

He can see you looking for instructions, so he takes your hand and helps you get a firm grip on his cock, sliding your hand up and down, and finally letting you do it on your own.

“Doin’ good, baby,” he says. “You gotta give your mouth a break sometimes.”

You’ve never gotten anything close to praise from Joel before. It’d warm your heart like nothing else if it weren’t so goddamn sexy in this context.

You nod, wipe the spit from your chin, and give your mouth a brief break, but you can’t hold yourself back forever. Soon, your lips are back on his cock, kissing from the base to the tip, flicking your tongue over the head, seeing what reactions you can get from him.

When you get into the rhythm of hand and mouth in tandem, you barely register him telling you that he’s gonna come.

You imagine it’s an acquired taste but it’s not awful. You can swallow it. So, you do, and you look up at him with a smile.

He looks like he’s woken up from a dream and he’s still getting his bearings straight, but he’s quick to stand up and take your hand.

“Where are we going?”

“To my bed.”

You’d follow him anywhere but bed does sound good to you right now. It sounds like an adventure. You don’t go into his bedroom unless absolutely necessary. You’d think he was hiding something horrible in there if you didn’t have a mutual feeling regarding your own bedroom.

“Are we going to have sex?” you ask.

“No,” he says.

“Then, what are we going to do?”

“You,” he begins. “Are going to lie back and relax.”

He coaxes you to lie down, and he doesn’t have to try hard.

“I,” he continues. “Am going to make you feel good.”

You’re fairly certain about what he means, so there’s nothing left for you to do but let him do the work. It’s just another part of the job you’ll have to learn from experience.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says.

You nod.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” he says, playing with the hem of your t-shirt.

“Wait-” you say, sitting up, and he withdraws. “Can we kiss… first?”

He looks surprised for a moment, and you worry you’ve fucked up.

“I just feel like we should do that,” you say, much quieter.

“Yeah,” he says. “I guess that makes sense.”

His hand cups your cheek and he looks you in the eyes like he’s trying to find answers somewhere in there.

“Has anyone ever kissed you before?”

“Not really, not the way I want you to kiss me.”

“Feels a bit rude of me to have put my dick in your mouth before you’d even been kissed.”

Still, he leans in and kisses you, but it’s soft, gentle. It’s not a peck on the lips, though, it’s more. It gradually gains momentum and passion. Eventually, he slips his tongue in your mouth and you take it in stride.

“You’re very good at this,” he says. “If I didn’t know any better, I wouldn’t think this was your first time.”

“Is that a compliment?” you ask, doubting Joel is capable of such things.

He ignores your question, and sighs. You know it’s not directed at you because you’re fairly sure he’s not listening.

“I know I said I was gonna do some things with you, but I don’t wanna take things too fast, okay?”

“Are you saying you’re just going to kiss me?”

“I think that’d be the right thing to do.”

“That’s not fair,” you whine.

You wish you could sound sexy, or whatever, but you probably come off like a bratty child.

“Excuse me?”

“That’s not fair. You said you’d make me feel good. I thought you were gonna return the favor.”

“I was.”

“Then, why are you backing out?”

You’re shocked that he’s the pussy — pun-intended — in this scenario.

“I thought it might be too much for you.”

You grab his hand and slip it under the flimsy fabric of your shorts.

His eyes go wide.

Fucking hell, you’re wet, is the only thought on Joel’s mind. It makes sense. He’d be offended, maybe even worried if you were dry as a desert down there, but he’s barely touched you. Either you really enjoyed kissing him or you actually liked sucking him off too.

He gently presses the pads of his fingers against the wet spot on your panties.

“You’re right, baby. It’s only fair if I help you out.”

He’s able to get your shorts and your panties down in one swift pull. You look impressed by the action. Just you wait, he thinks. He’s not an expert by any means, but it’s not too hard to learn if you pay attention — and sex is one of the only times Joel does listen — it’s also not a skill you lose over time. It’s muscle memory, or maybe it’s innate.

His thumb rubs your clit lazily as he watches your face scrunch up in pleasure, your eyes fill with need. When the first finger slips inside you, he hears a breathy sigh come from above — it sounds like relief though he knows you haven’t come yet.

He’s never had a woman have such a strong reaction to his lips on her clit. It almost startles him at first. You’re frantic from the moment his lips meet your skin, crying out for him like you’re scared he’ll stop.

“Hey,” he says, “I’m right here. Don’t have to get so worked up. I’m gonna take care of you.”

He can’t say another word because his lips are occupied, so he relies on his hands, his soothing touch, to tell you that everything is alright. He gets the urge to tell you how good you are for him, how good you taste, how pretty you are like this, but he knows it’d be cruel to let up now. He’s callous often, sometimes harsh, but rarely cruel.

His instinct tells him to drag this out, to make your thighs shake, to have tears running down your cheeks, to tease you. To be the asshole that he tends to be when you’re around (and when you’re not). This is a version of Joel you might come to like.

He’s lived long enough to be well-practiced in this field of life. Doesn’t matter if he’s particularly romantic or even sociable, it’s just happened enough times over the course of fifty plus years for him to know the ins and outs. He can get you there quickly and lead you through it slowly.

He’s so used to you saying his name in a tone he considers pestering that he’s begun to hate the word itself. But when it’s drawn out and desperate like this, it sounds wonderful.

You’re at his mercy, he thinks. Which means he’s in control. And, as much as he’d hate to admit it, control does not mean he can kill you, control means he can care for you.

When you come down from your high, Joel is looking up at you from between your thighs with messy hair and kiss-dark lips. His smile looks like one of pride. Your cheeks heat up, only half-remembering what just happened. You could describe the event simply in a cause and effect relationship — he went down on you, so you came. You know what an orgasm feels like, but that was something beyond anything you’d ever experienced before. You fear an addiction may be coming on.

Your voice comes out shaky, which only makes your first words after a long silence sound stupider. “Thank you.”

He looks confused, and it takes him a moment to respond. “My pleasure,” he says, and you swear it might be when you see a semi through his sweatpants.

You’d offer more ‘help’ but you truly don’t think you can manage it. You can feel your body pulling you towards sleep. Your eyes have barely opened and they want to close again.

Joel notices because how could he not, you’re completely naked in every sense of the word.

“Get some rest,” he says before standing up.

He’s leaving.

“Where are you going?” you ask, instinctively.

“Downstairs.”

You do not want to say it. The fear of rejection is too strong, but so is the sudden urge to cry. Holding back tears is a strength of yours, though, so Joel never sees them. Somehow, after doing one of the most adult things, you feel like a baby in the wake of it. You are supposed to be taking care of him, and you are failing.

“What?” is his response to your refusal to meet his eyes.

“I just assumed you were going to stay. That’s all.”

“I can. If that’s what you need me to do.”

You don’t say anything. He climbs into bed anyway after picking up your underwear and handing it to you.

He doesn’t hold you but he doesn’t leave either. What he does do is kiss you on the forehead when he thinks you’re already asleep. It’s a compromise between your fear and your desire.

It isn’t as weird as one might think it would be — acting as if you’ve never done anything remotely sexual with one another. It’s easier because you don’t have to go back to being friends. You never really were. It was always awkward. What’s new? Only your knowledge that at least some of your feelings are mutual. Only the fact that you think about having sex with him every time he’s in front of you. It’s really just out of curiosity sometimes. What would he be like in bed? Does he want it too? How would you even broach the subject?

Sometimes, it’s not just curiosity. Those days are harder to navigate. You have to pretend like every little touch — most of them accidental — fuels the fire. It’s not the sensation itself. It’s just the acute awareness of his body, how close it is to yours, how easily you could reach out and touch him, that enters your mind.

“You’re staring.” Joel says from the other side of the couch.

“Sorry. I zoned out.”

“Got something’ on your mind?”

“Not really.”

“C’mon, what is it?”

“Why do you suddenly care about my thoughts?” About me.

“You think I didn’t care about you before? You’ve been in my house everyday for months now.”

“So?”

“And, I haven’t tried to kick you out yet.”

“You’re not allowed to kick me out. That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Okay. How ‘bout this: I’m down here sitting with you because I know you don’t like to be alone.”

“So you pity me?”

“No, if I pitied you, I’d have told Tommy to give you a new job.”

“Okay, so, you expect me to believe you care but you refuse to talk to me half the time.”

“I’m not much of a talker. But, now that I’m trying to talk to you, you’re shutting me out.”

“I’m not— It’s just not a big deal. I don’t even remember what I was thinking about anyway.”

“Bullshit.”

“What?”

“I said, that’s bullshit.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll talk.”

You take a deep breath before speaking, one long enough that he gestures for you to go on.

“I was just thinking about what it would be like if we had sex.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, since we, you know, we did that stuff… it’s not like it’s a totally crazy thought.”

“‘That stuff’? Be more specific, honey.”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“I do, but you can’t be thinking about having sex with me when you can’t even use big girl words when you’re talking about it.”

“It doesn’t even matter.” Your face is burning. It so, totally, does matter. “I was just curious.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Mm-hmm. Go on thinking, I’ll get back to reading.”

“Wait, what? You just made me tell you that to make me embarrassed? You’re not even gonna—”

“What? Gonna fuck you?”

The word slips out of his mouth so easily.

“I don’t know, maybe.”

“Well, I’m not.”

Truth is: he’s been thinking about you every day since. He only caught you staring because he was doing the same. He tries to restrain himself because it feels like the right thing to do.

But he still, he acquiesces and takes you upstairs to his bedroom.

He lays you down on the bed and undresses you slowly like you’re a gift and he doesn’t want to tear the paper. He places your clothes atop the dresser, but leaves his strewn across the floor.

Wonder fills your eyes as he reveals his naked body. Hesitation and awe wrapped up in one.

“Wow,” you say, breaking the silence, “it’s, um, you know— do you think it’ll fit?”

It’s not the first time he’s heard that. It no longer brings him that bashful pride that it did when he was younger. It’s just a fact. A nuisance sometimes.

“Not if we don’t get you ready first.”

“Do you need to get ready first too?”

He looks down at his cock, rock-hard and eager.

“No, baby, just looking at you is enough to get me ready.”

A thought crosses his mind — one he thought he’d left in his teenage years — what if he comes too quickly?

He lies back on the bed next to you and reaches for you, waits for you to let him maneuver you.

“Come here,” he says.

You sit up and face him, slowly inch towards his arms that beckon you.

You’re fairly sure you know what he wants you to do. Sit on his face. But god, something about it seems awkward in the amount of control you simultaneously give up and are given in turn.

“You trust me, right?” he asks.

“Of course.”

An answer you wouldn’t have ever thought you’d give back when you first met.

“Then, come sit on my face.”

You swing your leg over him and steady yourself above his face.

He grips your thighs to guide you. You grip the headboard to save yourself from passing out the moment Joel’s mouth meets your skin.

Joel wouldn’t be the man you’d have thought would have such a talented tongue based on how little he uses it. You can’t blame him for not talking right now. Your moans echo off his bedroom walls and permeate the balmy summer air. The windows are closed and the curtains shield your naked bodies from the neighbors but even if you’d left them open, you wouldn’t have the sense to care.

You’re an incoherent mess of moans and half-words, trembling thighs and sweat. Your orgasm comes on strong, and if your eyes weren’t screwed shut, maybe you’d see the gates of heaven.

It’s been a while since he’s done this. Tess never liked it like this and the last woman before her was one from another lifetime, pre-outbreak, an inconceivable world despite having once called it home.

He’s not really thinking about that, though, in this moment, all Joel can think of is you. Your skin, your sweat, your heat, and the pretty noises you make. At one point, he swears he hears his name though your thighs are covering his ears. And he doesn’t mind it one bit.

“I’m gonna pass out,” he hears from above him.

“No, you’re not. I’ve got you,” he tries to say, though surely his words are muffled.

“Don’t let me go.”

He doesn’t. He carefully helps you lie back on the bed. When he meets your gaze, he swears he’s never seen adoration like that in anyone’s eyes before. At least, not in a long time.

It terrifies him, but in spite of his hesitation, he holds you close.

A blanket of peaceful silence settles over your bare bodies.

You speak quietly, trying not to awaken Joel’s senses. The ones that pull him away from you. The moment feels like glass in your hands.

“Are we going to have sex?”

“Hm?”

“We were going to, right? You were getting me ready for it.”

“I thought I wore you out.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean I want to stop.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’d tell you if you were.”

He hesitates.

“I’ll be good. I promise.”

Those are the words that awaken his arousal. In an instant, you find his body looming above yours. He kisses you until your lips are red and puffy. He doesn’t break your gaze as he positions his cock at your entrance. Your green light is your needy hips begging him to fuck you.

He starts slow, even the head is a stretch. You scrunch up your face and hold back the urge to squirm.

“It’s gonna be a little uncomfortable at first, baby, and that’s why we’re gonna take it slow.”

Slow is an understatement. It takes ages for him to give you another inch — or maybe you’re just antsy. This one makes you whimper, makes you clamp down around him.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re gonna be fine.”

Joel’s voice is tender and sweet, and it gives you enough hope to ask for something you think he’d usually deny you.

“Can you hold my hand?”

He interlocks his fingers with yours. It feels oddly natural. He doubts he’s heard someone ask to hold his hand since— not now, he’ll go soft if he thinks about her. He’ll close in on himself and you need him — in more ways than one.

He continues slowly as he promised he would until he hears your moans of pleasure and your pleas for more, more, more. More is a little bit faster, a little bit harder, as deep as you can take it, and most importantly, his thumb tracing circles on your clit.

You squeeze his hand with yours as your inner walls clamp down around him.

“Just let it happen. It’s okay. I’m right here.”

When you come, he does too — the most blissful mistake he’s ever made.

Curses fly out of his mouth through his orgasm, stopping briefly as he catches his breath, and resuming when he pulls out and watches as his come drips out of you.

“Fuck. Shit. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you insist. “I liked it.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” Because I fucking loved it. “But, it’s dangerous. We’ve gotta be more careful.”

In the future — it’s implied. Another time is nothing when the lines have all been crossed and when the other side brings him a warmth the hot summer never could.

You have more power over him than the sun.

It becomes a routine — briefly — and you are more careful. You discreetly buy condoms, but when your next period doesn’t come, you fear it might be too late.

You don’t tell Joel, not at first. Sometimes, they’re irregular, and you don’t want to give the man a heart attack. But then a week passes, another week passes, and eventually you have to — especially when you’re beginning to feel a bit nauseous and have no other explanation for it. It’s better to say something before he asks.

“Joel,” you say, “I haven’t gotten my period yet.”

A look of horror crosses his face before he asks, “How late is it?”

You take a breath before admitting, “A few weeks.”

“How many?”

“Almost three.”

“Fuck.” He sighs in preemptive defeat. “Have you taken a test?”

“No, I thought it would come so I didn’t want to overreact.”

“We’re going to go get one.”

He stands up immediately and turns towards the door.

“Wait,” you say, stopping him in his tracks.

“I should probably get it. It’ll look less suspicious.”

No, it won’t. Those who suspect something is up with you, will have their suspicions, and those who don’t, won’t think to pay attention.

They recommend taking multiple because false negatives are common.

The first one is a clear positive, so clear you think it might be a false positive, so you wait to freak out until you see two lines come up on the second test.

Joel is silent, even when you hand him the test.

But, so are you, because what more is there to say? The tests say it all.

“I’ll do whatever you need me to,” he says, and you’re surprised until he clarifies.

“I doubt they’ll make you pay for the pill or the procedure — however they do it, but I’ll take care of you while you’re recovering. I’ll be there through it all. Promise.”

The pill or the procedure. The abortion that he expects you to have. Truth be told, you hadn’t really thought about what you’d do until now. It’s probably the right decision. Do you really want to bring a baby into this world? Can you even take care of one?

“Okay,” you say. “I’ll make an appointment.”

You save your tears for Maria. She approaches you in the clinic. You’d be delighted to see her at any other moment.

“Making an appointment?” she asks.

“Yeah, just a checkup,” you lie.

The woman at the counter clarifies with you. “Just a checkup? Is that what you’d prefer?”

You turn back and forth between her and Maria.

“Um, no,” you say, “keep it as is.”

Maria raises an eyebrow and there is nowhere left to hide. You might be able to outrun her, but she knows where you live and isn’t afraid to confront you at your doorstep.

She saves you some of your dignity when she whispers, “How about a chat at my place? I have some tea that helps with nausea.”

The tea is persuasive but you’d have to go anyway. You don’t speak on the walk to Maria’s. She brews the tea and you sit across from each other in the kitchen before she finally speaks.

“What’s the appointment for?” she asks. “And I’m not here to judge you, I just want the truth.”

You’re not my mom, you could say, but she’s the closest thing you’ve had to one since your own passed.

“An abortion,” you say quietly, looking down at the table, at your hands around the mug.

“Okay,” she says, gently. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

You try to reply but all the comes out is a sob.

Eventually, she pries the truth out of you. You explain what happened when you told Joel the news.

“So, he made the decision, and then told you he’d be there for you if he did what you wanted?”

“I guess. But, I think it might be the right choice. I mean, it'd be hard to raise a child in this world…” You cut yourself off when you look at her bump. She’s gonna be a mom, a good mom. And, stupidly, you’re jealous.

Even though it’s not there yet, you swear you can see a high chair in your periphery. You could be holding a warm bottle instead of a hot mug of tea. Maria could be feeding her child his first bite of baby food next to you.

“Let me ask you something, and I want you to really think about it, and be honest with me.”

You nod and wait for her question.

“If Joel had said he’d support you no matter what, even if you wanted to keep the child, if he said he’d step up as a father, would you have made the appointment?”

“I don’t know.” Oh, but you do. Maria waits for you to come to a conclusion, for you to spit it out.

“I like the idea of having a kid. I love kids, and I sometimes think about what it would be like being a mom, but I know that I can’t be one. Not right now.”

If there is one thing Joel can’t be, it’s a father. Not again. He’s too old, too grouchy, too cynical. He’s not the man he used to be. He was never good at it anyway. He couldn’t save his own kid. He’s already a failed father — once, if not, twice.

You’d be a great mother, and that’s the greatest tragedy. He’s failed you already. He’s not good at the kinder things of life. He shouldn’t have indulged in you, in the love you gave him when he cannot give it back. There are a lot of things Joel can’t quite get right — being a lover, a father, a good man.

Every night since the outbreak began, he’s watched Sarah bleed out in his arms. Sometimes he sees Tess, Sam and Henry, Bill, even Tommy which feels like an augury. Ellie is there almost every night, losing consciousness. Only sometimes is she in that hospital bed, often, she’s lying in the show, with blue lips and almost no pulse. Now, you’ve begun to enter his subconscious. You’re always too far out of reach, screaming his name until he’s shot dead, and the last thing he hears is you shriek as you watch him die in front of you.

Another person is another tragedy once they have the misfortune of coming into his life. There cannot be another person, especially not a child.

You should be back by now, he thinks as he splashes water on his face for the umpteenth time, hoping it’ll wash away all the mistakes he’s made.

He can tell it’s Maria by the way her knuckles rap on his front door. He can tell she’s pissed too.

When he opens the door, he sees you in standing behind her, like you’re afraid of him.

“Unless you want to have this discussion on your doorstep, I suggest you let me — us — inside.”

He does, reluctantly.

“Joel Miller, when do you plan on becoming a man?”

“What?”

“You just told her to make an appointment, didn’t even give her a chance to think about it? You managed to run away from your problems while you’re on house arrest. Impressive.”

“I thought that was what we both wanted,” he says, looking past her, to you.

“I guess, maybe,” you shrug.

The one thing he’s grateful for is Maria’s suggestion that you talk privately.

You sit further from him than usual, you refuse to meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask what you wanted. I thought I was making the right choice.”

“It’s okay. I don’t even know what I want.”

But the tears suggest otherwise.

“Do you want to keep the baby?”

“Maybe, but I can’t. It’s not a good idea.”

“That’s what I think, but Maria’s right, it’s your choice.”

“But I don’t know how to make that choice.”

“You’ve got a good heart. Follow it.”

You spend a lot of time thinking, remembering, and trying to convince yourself that there is no part of you that wants to be a mother. But, in your bedside drawer, there is a handful of photos — all from before the outbreak. You see your mom as a child on a swing set, and as a teen blowing out candles on her birthday. Her mom is in that one too, sitting next to her, smiling. You wish more than anything to have pictures of you and your mom.

You think about the little girl who pretended a ratty old stuffed bear was her baby. You can hear your mom telling you that you’re doing a good job, how you’ll be good at this one day. Your bedtime stories were never about fairy princesses, but about your family, the ones you didn’t get to meet.

“I wish I could have that,” you’d say.

“One day, you might be able to — the world is scary right now, but that doesn’t mean it’s gonna be like this forever,” she’d insist.

In retrospect, you wonder if she really believed that, if she really believed that teddy bear would one day be a baby that you’d be the one carrying, and she’d be the proud grandmother.

“I told her I wanted to be a mom like her,” you explain to Joel, and he understands.

You know about Ellie, but not about Sarah. Joel never brings either of them up to you. Until now. It’s a fair trade, he tells himself. Photos for photos, info for info. But it’s more than that.

“Hold on for one minute, I’m gonna go get something, and I’ll be right back.”

It’ll only take him a second to grab the pictures, but he’ll need a moment to compose himself.

“This is Sarah,” he says, pointing to the little girl in the photo. “My daughter.”

You’re silent for a moment, gazing at the photo, at a younger Joel you’ve never met.

You’re the first person not to tell him that you’re sorry for his loss, and he is relieved not to hear the empty sympathies once more.

“What was she like?” you ask.

It’s hard to explain, and for that reason, he talks for at least a half hour about Sarah. All her likes and dislikes, all his favorite moments from the day she was born until the day she died. He tells the story of that too.

When you try to tell him that he sounds like he was a good dad, he has to explain why he wasn’t.

“I couldn’t save her,” he says.

“I couldn’t save her either,” you say, pointing to your mother in one of the photos.

“You were just a child,” he says. “It’s not your fault.”

“And, you were just a man,” you say. “It’s not your fault.”

“A grown man.”

“Doing the best that you could.”

And you’re right. He did try his best. He stops arguing not because he’ll ever concede but because the weight of the present falls upon him all at once as he meets your eyes and remembers why you’re here.

He can’t have Sarah back, he can’t have Ellie back, but you’re right in front of him — and he loves you. It’s too late to turn back and kick you out on your first day, it’s too late to never speak to you, it’s too late to not love you.

It’s not too late to fail you like he’s failed everyone else. It’s not too late to do the opposite either.

You tell him your decision, and wait for his disagreement, for him to dissuade you. But, he doesn’t.

“Okay,” he says.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to try my best.”

You cancel the appointment and make the final decision, but it doesn’t feel real until Joel finishes building the crib in the spare bedroom. The most unexpected part is how excited you feel even when you’re nauseous, even when your feet are bloated, even when your back is killing you.

You’re also terrified, particularly when you hear Maria’s account of her labor and delivery. For someone describing how painful it was, she seems oddly unfazed, happy even. She’s too focused on her baby boy, and you get it — he is pretty cute.

When the day comes, you find that you’ve underestimated the pain entirely. The wounds you’ve gotten in combat are nothing compared to this. Every hour that goes by feels like a full day for you. Every time the doctor checks your dilation it’s still not yet time.

Until it is. And everything becomes a million times more chaotic. You swear the only thing keeping you sane is Joel’s hand in yours. (You have to apologize later for squeezing it so tightly.)

Finally, the telltale cry comes, and it feels like you’ve run a marathon by how exhausted you are and by how proud you are of yourself for doing it. This will go down as the greatest feat of your life and you are more than satisfied with that fact.

The doctor announces that it’s a boy and though he said he’d be fine with either gender, Joel’s smile is wider than you’ve ever seen it. You’re smiling almost as big. It hurts your cheek muscles but you can’t stop, especially when they hand you your baby boy. Though he doesn’t know how to speak, his hand wrapped around your finger tells you that it’s going to be okay.

There is so much pain in this world, but not in this room.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel x reader #tlou fanfiction

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currrentfixations · 29 days ago

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jealous — park hu-min

based on this request!

pairing: park hu-min (baku) x musicianfem!reader

genre: fluff. bc i didn't want him to be deadass jealous LMAO

word count: 1.3k words

note: not a very creative title but trust it makes sense 🙏 bc i'm loosely basing it off the lyrics of jealous by nick jonas. also sorry if anything music related is wrong, i tried my best 😔

masterlist!

you stood on stage, bright lights shining in your face. the auditorium was completely silent, waiting in anticipation for you and your bandmates to begin performing.

3. 2. 1.

you and ji-woo began to play the electric guitar, whilst the hee-won was playing the drums and mi-ran was singing.

each riff booming through the speakers it was connected to, while your fingers moved across the strings effortlessly, like you were born doing this.

screams began erupting from your audience — full of students who had come from surrounding schools, just to watch your group perform. you could hear bits and pieces of what was being shouted at you and your members.

"you're so beautiful!"

"everything about you is so angelic!"

"be my girlfriend!"

"just one chance please!"

the comments continued to come, but they were difficult to comprehend over your music and the yelling. your eyes surfed the crowd until they landed on your biggest fan — your boyfriend.

park hu-min, your boyfriend and childhood best friend. you locked eyes with him, your grin widening. giving him a subtle wave, you continued to focus on playing.

as your set came to an end, you took out your in-ear monitor, making it easier to hear what was being said.

"___ marry me please!"

"___ i've told my mum about us!"

you playfully rolled your eyes, none of those comments affected you unless they were from your boyfriend. laughing, you and your bandmates thanked everyone for coming and supporting. taking your final bow, you walked offstage.

as you packed your guitar away, you told the girls that you'd be heading out now. a line of moans and groans followed, this had been the second time you were bailing on the dinner after a set. it had been a tradition, from the very first set til now, you'd always went for a celebratory dinner.

you blurted a quick apology, hoping they'd understand.

as you were walking out, you were stopped multiple times. either being complimented — "___ you're so pretty" — or flirted with —"___ i'll treat you so well!".

you appreciated everyone's support, but sometimes the flirting became uncomfortable. many times boys were relentless, not understanding even when you had refused multiple times.

offering polite smiles and rapid 'thank yous', you looked around for hu-min. unable to see your six foot boyfriend anywhere, you headed towards his friend group.

"hey guys!"

"hi ___" the boys replied in a chorus.

"i didn't think you'd still be here ___, i thought you'd be with hu-min" hyun-tak said. that's odd, you hadn't seen him since the end of the set, had he gone backstage to see you?

confused, you told the boys you'd be right back. as you made your way back to backstage, you wondered where hu-min could've gone. upon opening the door, you saw your bandmates who were still packing up and chatting.

"oh hey ___, are you back to join us for dinner?" they asked, their smiles gleaming and hopeful.

"no, sorry —" you said, giving them a sheepish smile. "have you guys seen hu-min, i can't find him?"

after your members denied seeing hu-min, you decided to go back to hyun-tak, si-eun, and jun-tae.

you had noticed that the auditorium was empty, only confetti and streamers decorating the now empty stage and floor.

"hey gotak, thanks for waiting for me —" looking around, you noticed that si-eun and jun-tae had disappeared, "where is everyone else?"

"they had to go, jun-tae got a call from his grandma and si-eun wanted to go to the hospital to see his friend before visiting hours ended."

"oh okay, have you heard from hu-min? maybe he went to the bathroom like that one time during your volunteer work at the museum."

hyun-tak snorted at your statement. while it was something hu-min would do, you couldn't be further from right.

"he went outside while your fanboys were busy crowding you" hyun-tak answered.

"you jerk, why didn't you tell me before" you said playfully slapping his shoulder.

as you stepped outside, you were met with crisp air. the moon and street lamps illuminating your path. you looked around your surroundings — still no sign of hu-min. growing impatient, you took out your phone and shot him a message.

you [8:18pm]: babeeee you [8:18pm]: where are you? delivered — read at 8:18pm

my idiot ❤️ [8:19pm]: by the basketball court delivered — read at 8:19pm

placing your phone in your back pocket and walked towards the basketball count.

as soon as you saw hu-min's silhouette, you ran, engulfing him in a tight hug.

"did you see me tonight!" you said, bursting with excitement.

"mhmm" was all hu-min could manage to say, his words muffled as you squished his cheeks with your hands.

"i blew a kiss to you at the end, did you see!"

you were eager to hear your boyfriends thoughts. to you, they were the only ones that mattered.

"i did baby" hu-min replied.

you could tell something was wrong, he'd never given you such bland replies after your sets. he'd always rambled about how you were amazing and the best.

"what's wrong?" you inquired, was today an important day? had you missed something he did while you were on stage?

"nothing —" you gave him a quizzical look, knowing he wasn't telling the truth.

"you have a lot of fanboys" hu-min pouted, giving in.

taken aback, you couldn't help but giggle at your boyfriends behaviour.

in your, almost, two years of dating, you never seen hu-min act like this. sure, there were times where he'd gotten angry at guys hitting on you — a matter he often took into his own hands — but he'd never ever pouted and acted like a baby.

"any chance you're jealous park hu-min?" you questioned him.

"no" he shot back. god if his friends saw him right now, he'd never live it down.

you raised an eyebrow at his response. while hu-min had never been overbearingly possessive, he was the type to get jealous on more than one occasion.

"you so are, they were just admiring my talent" your smile widened. it was more like you to act like a baby when feeling jealous, not hu-min. but you weren't complaining, you were enjoying it, any chance to baby your boyfriend.

"i'm sure they were but some of them were asking to be given a chance or marry you, that's my job" he huffed, his chest expanding.

you stared at hu-min for a few seconds, admiring him. you felt lucky, lucky that he'd communicate with you, lucky that he understood you — lucky that your first boyfriend was such an amazing person.

you had heard from your friends turned bandmates, their experiences with previous boyfriends. how they'd get jealous, how'd they blame your friends rather than understanding. you were lucky.

"you are so cute when you're jealous" you said, pinching hu-min's cheek.

"not jealous, more like protective" he rebutted.

"well i don't know if you know this, but i don't really care about having admirers. not when i already have the best one"

"oh really? who would that be?" hu-min asked, copying your quizzical look from earlier, only ten times more dramatic.

"this guy who is super funny, insanely talented at basketball, and incredibly handsome, he just so happens to be my boyfriend" you reply in a teasing tone, shrugging like you had no idea who you were talking about.

laughing, hu-min wrapped his arms around you, planting a kiss on your cheek.

"you don't have to be jealous you know? i only have eyes for you" you reassured him.

"i know, i don't know what came over me" he muttered, defeated.

resting your head on hu-min's shoulder, you whispered "so you agree, you were jealous".

laughing in response, hu-min laced his fingers through yours, tracing small circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.

sitting in a comfortable silence, the two of you gazed at the moon and stars. you were glad you came to look for hu-min. you cherished moments like these, moments with him.

feel like this wasn't my best work but i hope you enjoyed still 😭

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iamthatonefangirl · 2 months ago

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personification - nsfw fatws bucky barnes

i’m trying out different posting times to see when works best lol here’s an early one because i’ve been waiting in a line for a store for two hours

i still don’t know how to title my works

~~~

"oh, she's absolutely purring for me, isn't she?" he asks, poking fun at you. you bring your hands to cover your face, smiling and gently laughing at the way he's talking.

"laugh all you want, baby," he says, laughing himself, "but you know I'm right. and I know you like it."

so what if he's right? it's stupid, but god, if he's the one saying it, somehow he makes it hot.

"your pussy is absolutely begging for me to do something, anything, isn't she?" he taunts, running his thumb up and down, gathering the wetness that pools in your folds that you're entirely powerless to stop.

his words continue to humiliate you and make you laugh at the same time. your face heats, blushing pink, in your amusement and desperation for more.

you never knew it could be this fun, but it's exciting, enjoyable, with him. anything with him always is. you're so deeply in love with him.

he's your best friend, you realize.

"I can see her drooling for me, baby, just asking me to fill her up with anything I please, ain't that right?"

god, he's gonna pull secrets from you that you never thought you'd admit to if he keeps talking like this.

"ought to fuck her full o'my cum and then plug her up, don't ya think, baby?" he asks, complementing his nasty words with a smack against your cunt.

you can't help but moan and cover your face further.

"nuh-uh. look at me babydoll. look at me while I talk to you."

you do. you drop your hands and give him a look of astonishment at how utterly ludicrous he's being right now.

"nah, doll, don't look at me like that," he laughs, finally filling you with two of his fingers, making your face fall as you gasp at the sudden intrusion. "that's it, that's how you should look at me from now on, all the time, baby."

you grunt in dissatisfaction. he's joking, but it's such a far-fetched idea when you really think about it–

"oh, I'll make sure of it, doll," he continues, "maybe I'll leave a little vibrator up here, make sure you always have that look on your face, make sure everyone knows who's keeping you satisfied. bet you'd like it, beg for it like a little whore, even."

he's literally gonna be the death of you. you laugh again, spurring him to laugh, too.

"come on, doll," he says through tears, "can't make you come if you're too busy laughing."

"is that a challenge?"

~~~

masterlist

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sungchanphile · 1 month ago

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strangers who knew each other very well 𐙚 jung sungchan

༄.° WORD COUNT: 18.6k ༄.° PAIRING: riize's jung sungchan x female!reader ༄.° TAGS & WARNINGS: exes!au, angst, fluff, slightly aged up riize ༄.° SONGSPO: scott street - phoebe bridgers ; woojooin - seo youngju ; spring into summer - lizzy mcalpine

༄.° SYNOPSIS: you're back in town for the first time in four years because your best friend is getting married. it sounds easy enough, apart from the fact that you broke the best man's heart 4 years ago and haven't dared shown your face since. ༄.° NOTES: inspired by hong sijun and son jua from melo movie aka my all time favourite k-drama second couple !! the title comes from the episode that focuses on them in the drama <3 this is kinda similar to my other second chance romance sungchan fic, but i think i wrote it differently enough to be a worthwhile separate fic :>

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

i. anyway, don't be a stranger

You knew this day was coming, but that didn't mean it hurt any less.

The train screeches to a halt and the passengers around you get up in a buzz to collect their belongings and crowd around the double doors.

You watch stoically as they step out of the train for an adventure in the big city or to return to their busy lives. You stay still, clutching your carry-on suitcase and just wait, maybe even until you're kicked off the train.

Seoul Station is the last stop on the route, but you're in half a mind to jump platforms and get on the next train going to somewhere you hoped was far away from here.

"Ma'am," you hear a voice call out to you kindly and you turn to face a young woman with a slightly concerned look on her face, "Is this your stop? The train ends here."

You blink, "Yeah, it is. Sorry- I'll get going."

"Have a good day," she wishes you sweetly, but you know that's a luxury you will find hard to come by these days.

You pry your large suitcase from the luggage compartment and step out into the station. You're still underground, but it hurts like no other to finally step foot in your home for the first time in years. Breathing this air doesn't feel refreshing; it feels like you're suffocating.

Sluggishly, you navigate the maze that was the station until you surface to the public area. You're not that familiar with the place anymore; it's been a long time, but you make it up to where you had arranged to meet your best friend, finding her already there.

"My Y/N," Hana envelops you into a tight, warm hug as soon as she lays eyes on your solemn face, "How are you?"

"I'm good, Hana," you reassure her as best as you could muster.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't get you from the airport," she apologises as she pries your luggage out of your grip, "Taro had the car, but he's on his way to pick us up outside."

You faintly remember her saying something about last minute wedding errands he had to run that precluded your best friend being able to pick you up herself off the plane.

"I could have made it to your house by myself," you chide, "I used to live here, after all."

Hana's smile falters for a second at your voluntary mention of the past, but she brushes you off, "I wanted to welcome you back."

You notice her avoidance of the word home and you're thankful because a reminder of what was once a happy memory has turned into the opposite is something you've been trying to forget.

She leads you out of the busy station and to a pick-up zone outside. It's a sweltering summer day with the sun beating down relentlessly. It's something you haven't missed about Seoul after trading your extreme weathers for the grey skies across the world.

"Look, Y/N," Hana begins hesitantly as you watch the cars zoom past you, "Thank you for coming all the way here and doing this for me. I know it's gonna be hard for you, but I'm still here for you, okay?"

You knock shoulders lightly, "What kind of a best friend would I be if I missed your wedding? We've been planning our weddings since we learned what one was."

Hana chuckles lightly, mind flashing back to the days you spent designing wedding dresses and choosing songs for your wedding playlists, "I know right?"

You fall into silence as you both reminisce. Everyone thought you were going to get married first. You always wanted to get married young, ever since you met your first love at 14 and started dating at 16. You had everything you wanted planned out- the cake, the flowers, the shoes, the gifts, the groom.

Life doesn't always work out the way you want it to- you learned that at 22.

"I'm an adult, Han," you exhale, "I promise it'll all be okay. I can do this."

"You're the best, Y/N. I really missed you, by the way," Hana admits as her eyes lock onto a car.

It's only been 7 months since you last saw each other, but you spent the first 22 years of your lives practically conjoined until you moved away 4 years ago. You'll never forget the shock and joy you experienced when she turned up at your door alone out of nowhere with a rock on her finger and a gift box asking you to be her maid of honour for her wedding set in 7 months time.

"I missed you too," you return fondly.

A large, black car stops in front of you and the window rolls down to reveal a face you haven't seen in a while.

"If it isn't the Y/N back in Seoul," Shotaro flashes you his famous smile from the driver's side. You wave at him excitedly and drag your bags to the boot that he's opened from the inside. It's a busy road and he can't hop out and help, but between you and Hana, you fit the bags into the spacious boot. It's not even that much- you've only packed to stay two weeks.

You climb into the backseat and Shotaro turns around to take in the fact that you're really here. You reach over to squeeze his shoulder, "I haven't got to say congratulations in person yet, so congratulations on the wedding. You bet that we're going to have another best friend talk soon."

Shotaro and Hana choke in surprise at your menacing words. The Japanese man crinkles his eyelids in amusement, "I wouldn't have expected anything less, but thank you Y/N."

When they started dating years ago, you had cornered Shotaro at a house party and warned him so terrifyingly about what you would do if he ever broke your best friend's heart that he couldn't look you in the eye for the rest of the week. It was fair anyway, considering the talk your own best friend had given your first love when you started dating.

The drive to their house was a fair journey that you spent with your eyes screwed tight pretending to be asleep. You couldn't bare the thought of having to look out the window and catch the familiar streets you had grown up on and made so many memories on. This trip was always going to end in heartbreak for you, but you wish to delay the onset.

Hana calls your name softly when you arrive and you do a slow-blink to try to convince her. You don't know if she believes it, but she doesn't say anything otherwise.

It's weird that you haven't stepped foot in her adult home after you made her childhood home your second one and lived in the same apartment through your college years. You can still picture her teenage bedroom with the pink walls and the Fin.K.L poster across her double bed. You spent hours and hours in your college rooms eating ice cream and watching films together. Now, you don't even know the number outside her door.

"Welcome to our humble abode," Hana smiles proudly as she unlocks the front door.

They live in a very nice area, afforded by Shotaro's idol choreographer salary and Hana's lawyer income. It's obviously a beautiful home, decorated very cosy with sprinkles of their personality dotted around.

They show you to the guest bedroom and point out all the items Hana prepared for your two week stay in the house, despite the fact that in ten days' time, they were jetting off to their honeymoon the morning after the wedding. She had put together an adorable and thoughtful welcome basket with everything you might need and your heart clenches at the kindness of your best friend.

Over these years, Hana has been patient in coming to you versus you coming to her. Your blatant refusal to come back to Korea has limited your live meet-ups to once a year, twice if you could find some wiggle room in your budgets, but her wedding meant you couldn't put it off any longer and had to face your fears.

While Hana was your best friend, Shotaro had his own best friend acting as his best man. You always knew this was coming- even from the moment you introduced your best friend to your first love's best friend in freshman year of college.

He wasn't the only reason you were avoiding coming back, but he was the main one. You'd like to think that time heals all and maybe it has, or maybe it's just shoved that little pocket of pain deeper and deeper out of sight until the day you finally are forced to face it. Unfortunately for you, that day has come.

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

Hana was kind enough to give you the night to settle before everything kicked into full force. She knew it would be too much for you to get off the plane and have to face your ex-boyfriend, so she pushed the meeting that required both of you as much as she could until there was no time left.

You woke up bright and early, although your stomach was in ropes at the thought of seeing him again. You hoped that the very long list of errands you had to do would distract you enough from all the emotions swirling in your stomach.

It was only 1pm, but you had already visited the bridal shop to do a fitting of your maid of honour dress, considering you couldn't try it on when you were over 5000 miles away. Thankfully, it didn't need a lot of alterations and you could pick it up in the next few days. She continued distracting you by trying on her wedding dress in front of you, causing you to shed a few tears. You were virtually present during her dress hunt, but seeing it for the first time in person really made it sink in that your very best friend in this world was getting married.

The very next thing in your agenda was a meeting with the wedding planner to finalise the timings of the day. You were going to meet at a café- a safe and public space for you to finally see your ex-boyfriend after a number of years that you wished you stopped counting.

Hana parks her car along the road opposite the café and the second you stepped out the car, you were slapped across the face by the side-profile of your first love through the large window, a wide smile on his features as he chatted with his best friend.

Hana squeezes your hand, "Tell me if it gets too much. I know it's gonna be hard."

Sungchan looks so familiar that your heart squeezes at the sight of him. It's the body that you fell asleep across for years on end, the hair you used to run your fingers through when you talked late at night, the smile that made your heart race every day- it was still him.

Your breath hitches when he begins to turn in your direction. Before you can make eye contact, Hana tugs at you to enter the café, murmuring reassurances towards you that she was going to be here for you- even at her own wedding events, she was still being selfless.

"Hana, Y/N," Shotaro calls the two of you over as soon as the door jingles open and he spots you, "I ordered your drinks."

Hana squeals at the sight of the indulgent hot chocolates, but worriedly looks over at you to see your reaction. You're looking down at your feet and Sungchan is staring straight up at you.

"Hey, Sungchan. How are you?" Hana chuckles awkwardly, tugging you to her side to sit down at the round table. When the wedding planner arrives, they'd sit between you and Sungchan, so you could have that distance.

"Good, Hana, thanks," he breaths out as the corners of his mouth drop, "Hi, Y/N. It's been a while."

Your eyes shoot up to meet his, "Uhm, yeah. Hi, Sungchan."

It feels like you haven't said that name out loud in years- it brought you too much pain before. You're immediately saved by the wedding planner, thankfully, who appears out of nowhere and apologises profusely for her delay. She denies ordering a coffee, and begins to spread binder, papers and tablets all over the table.

Hana squeezes your hand under the table and your eyes point down to your thighs.

"Maid of honour and best man, I take it? It's nice to meet you both," the planner Jian smiles sweetly after catching her breath, "How'd you guys know the couple?"

You nod with a terse smile, "Childhood best friends."

Sungchan lets you finish before he bumps shoulder with Shotaro, "College roommates. We've been attached at the hip ever since."

"Looking forward to your speeches on the day then," she muses, "Shall we get started?"

You focus your efforts into concentrating through the meeting and trying to not let the pit growing in your stomach distract you. You were here to help out your best friend and her soon-to-be husband, so you gave your opinion when you felt it necessary and not much more.

You haven't been physically present through the past few months, but Hana had clued you in to everything she was doing as it was happening. You'd been discussing your dream days for years on end, so you felt like you had good opinions for the final touches of the plan.

After two hours going through every single detail, you wrapped up and Hana was beginning to talk about what she was going to cook for dinner.

"We have some salmon in the freezer, I think. That's enough for the three of us," she links arms with you as soon as you stand up, practically dragging you out of the store to avoid any more time alone with your ex-boyfriend.

"I was gonna go home after this, remember? My parents are unfortunately expecting me," you remind her regrettably. It's been a while since you saw your family- maybe a year now?

"Oh. Do you want me to come? I can drive you! I haven't seen your parents in a long time-"

You hear a cough behind you, "I'm heading that way actually. It's my dad's birthday soon so we're gonna have a meal at home. I can take you, but only if you're comfortable with that."

Sungchan's confident and unwavering tone freezes you on the spot, your eye moving to the side to gauge your best friend's reaction. Her eyes transform into sorrow as she presses her lips together. Hana looks at Sungchan, "It's okay, I can take her. I want to."

It makes sense why Sungchan would offer a lift practicality-wise. His family lived on the next road over from your house and you used to walk to school together after he moved to your school at 14.

Shotaro sighs behind Sungchan, "Hana, we still have that Zoom meeting with the venue co-ordinators. It's in like 40 minutes."

Hana curses under her breath, "Well then I'm sure Y/N will be fine taking the subway. Right?"

You're looking down at your feet, unable to even see the expression on Sungchan's face. You don't know his motivation to offer you a ride 45 minutes across the city to your old neighbourhood, and as pure as you know his heart is, you genuinely don't know how you could cope sitting in a confined space with your first love for that amount of time.

In the corner of your eyes, you see him shrug nonchalantly, "Whatever's easiest for you. See you guys soon."

You lift your head up in time to watch him wave goodbye and turn around. His face is seemingly neutral, but you hadn't spent 8 years of your life learning everything there was to possibly know about him to not be able to read the emotions behind his eyes at the very moment.

"Wait, Sungchan," you slip out of your friend's grasp, "I'll come with you."

Hana catches your wrist and hisses under her breath, "Y/N, what? Are you sure about this?"

You try to give her a convincing smile, "I'll text you when I'm coming back, okay? I don't think I'll be too late anyway."

Shotaro waves you off with a puzzled glance and you do a small jog to catch up to the distance he traversed with his long legs.

Sungchan gives you a half smile and shoves his hands into his pocket, "What made you change your mind?"

You nibble on your lower lip, "It's about to be rush hour on the subway. It'll be impossible to get a seat."

Sungchan nods at your response and points out his car across the street. It's a lot nicer and newer than the car he used to take you around Seoul in. You wondered briefly when he got rid of it.

Wordlessly, you enter into the passenger side, buckling your seatbelt and trying to keep your eyes trained in front of you. If you thought too much about the situation you put yourself in, you feared you might jump out of the moving car.

He turned on the radio to a quiet, but comfortable volume. A new song that's dominating the charts is playing as he reverses out of his spot and joins the cars on the roads.

"When did you get back?" Sungchan reluctantly begins.

You were hoping for a silent car ride, but you knew that was just in your dreams, "Yesterday evening."

"How was your flight?"

"Long. It's about 13 hours straight in the air," you hum.

"Is it? Wouldn't know- I've never been to London," it's not obvious, but there's something deeper that you can't figure out in his tone- is it snide? Snark?

"The climate's quite different over there," you reply back shortly, "It was hard to get used to."

"There must have been something you loved there so much that it kept you away for 4 years," he says, "Or something you hate here."

You swallow nervously, "Can we not do this, Sungchan?"

He scoffs, "When will we ever?"

"Is it necessary? I thought we said what we needed to say back then," you huff, letting your eyes flutter close in frustration. You should've known this wasn't going to be an amicable ride- that that disappointment in his eyes when he was walking away wasn't something to latch onto and hope, "I'm only here for 2 weeks. Can we just be civil until their wedding? That's what I'm here for."

"So even after 4 years, you have nothing to say to me?" his voice cracks in the most delicate way and if you looked to the side, you'd see his knuckles turning white as he gripped the wheel tightly.

"What do you want me to say, Sungchan?" you sigh in defeat.

"I don't know, Y/N," he runs his fingers through his hair frustratedly, "Do you regret it? Leaving?"

Your heart constricts in your chest as you shook your head, "I can't."

"What?"

"I can't regret leaving. Otherwise everything I did it for and did there becomes nothing," you confess, "I shouldn't."

Sungchan exhales a puff of air into the car, "This is gonna be so much harder than I thought it would be."

You agree silently and don't say another word for the whole drive.

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ii. and i can wish all that i want, but it won't bring us together

Shotaro and Hana decided to forgo the traditional bachelor and bachelorette parties. They themselves were far too busy for that, let alone thinking about the time and effort it would take to coordinate 6+ people on each side to do an activity or vacation. Plus, on Hana's side, some of her bridesmaids weren't all too familiar with each other having come from different periods of her life, so she didn't think that cooping all of you up in a vacation home a week before her wedding was worth her energy. She loved you all separately, but that didn't mean you would all have to be best friends.

Thus, the couple decided on a joint dinner hosted in their home just to get everyone acquainted with each other. You'd spent the afternoon with the other girls picking out jewellery you wanted to all wear for the wedding and returned home to find a spread of food prepared by the private chef the couple hired.

Despite the fact that you were dreading to face Sungchan again after the disastrous ride home, you were also excited to see Shotaro's other groomsmen, who were also old friends of yours from both high school and college.

When you entered their home again after your group shopping trip, you were immediately crushed by a tall figure.

"Y/N-noona," you hear Anton sniff as he hugged you, "Do you still remember me?"

You gasp and let out a nervous chuckle, "Don't be silly- hey Chanyoung. Long time no see, right?"

One of the worst parts about your breakup with Sungchan was having to relinquish your relationship with the boys too. It wasn't that they had to choose sides or anything, but you just thought it was easier for everyone involved. Of course, you still texted them occasionally on birthday, holidays and randomly throughout the year, but you hadn't seen any of them other than Shotaro since the breakup.

"Stop hogging her. We all haven't seen her in four years," Seunghan bumps Anton out of the way to envelop you into a comforting hug, "I almost forgot what you looked like, noona. You don't post on SNS."

"Has anyone entertained the idea that she's actually a British spy now?" Eunseok smirks as he takes his turn hugging you, "Welcome back Y/N."

Before Shotaro came into the picture in college, Eunseok and Sungchan were the first package deal. They were the closest in age to one another and were family friends growing up. Eunseok was the reason Sungchan moved to your school when his family relocated to the area. They adopted Shotaro in college and found the other boys along the way.

You've known Eunseok as long as you've known Sungchan and he was one of the ones who took the breakup the hardest out of all of your friends. Hana was your best friend since childhood and Eunseok was Sungchan's- that's when it felt like people had to take sides, no matter how close you also were with Eunseok.

"I missed you guys," you whisper lowly into Eunseok's embrace.

"You should have invited us to London," Sohee sniffles when he takes his turn hugging you. Wonbin joins the two of you in a group hug.

"Well then I'm inviting you now. I'd like to take you to Buckingham Palace so you can see your twins," you joke at Sohee, ruffling his hair, "Bin, how are you?"

"I'm great, noona. Honestly," he smiles softly at you. You've never had the deepest nor most complex relationship with Wonbin, but you take comfort knowing you're both satisfied at the low-maintenance friendship you've formed.

You realise quickly that a member of the wedding party is missing when you spot Shotaro mingling with the bridesmaids. Eunseok seems to read your mind immediately, "Sungchan's in the kitchen."

"Did he tell you?"

"About the car ride?" Eunseok grimaces and you mirror his expression, "Everyone knew this was gonna be hard. Neither of you should force anything or expect anything from yourselves."

You sigh, "I know. Doing that just makes everything worse. Besides, this week is about Taro and Hana. I don't want to draw attention from them or cause any problems that might affect them too."

Eunseok nods understandingly, "I guess so. But just think about yourself okay? That's who should be the most important person to yourself always."

You spot Hana trying to beckon you over, so you excuse yourself from Eunseok and wander over to your best friend, who slides her arm around your waist.

Four out of the 5 other bridesmaids are all her friends from the law firm she began working at since graduation 4 years ago. The other one is her cousin who lives in the opposite end of the country, but who she visited every summer and holidays. You're all around the same age, but you haven't had the chance to meet them or even speak to them outside of the bridesmaid group-chat Hana put you all in 6 months ago until today.

"How's it seeing the boys again?" Shotaro hands you a flute of what you think is a mimosa.

"I missed them," you admit simply with a small smile.

"You went to college with all of them, right?" Taehee questions curiously, "You really haven't seen any of them since you moved to London?"

"Taro and Hana have visited me a few times in London, but that's it," you press your lips together, "It was just a lot of things that stopped me from coming back."

You haven't said anything to the other girls about your ex-boyfriend, mainly because this week was not about you and your finicky relationship, so they're all none-the-wiser to your situation.

"Shall we go over to the dining room?" Hana suggests, sniffing the air when the chef throws open the dining room door and the smell of the food floods out, "I'm so hungry!"

Their usual dining room table has been replaced with a temporary set up for the 13 of you in a large, round table. You stick by Hana's side and immediately take the seat next to her, sighing in relief when Eunseok takes the other seat beside you. You try not to look up, but you practically feel Sungchan's presence in the room when he enters and takes a seat on the other side of the table, flanked by Seunghan and Anton.

When the starter is brought out, you're engaged in a conversation with Eunseok and the bridesmaid beside him about the places you've travelled in Europe. Mina's well-travelled herself and Eunseok is far too fascinated hearing what you've been getting up to since you left.

"Did you visit Paris? You must have," Mina wonders, "It's so close to London- I'd be going every weekend!"

Your heart drops and you swallow, "No, not since I left Korea."

"You've visited before?"

You hold yourself back from looking up, "In the past, just once."

"Isn't it lovely? It's one of my favourite cities in the world," Mina gushes excitedly, "I love art and museums, so Paris is my element!"

You recall back to the summer before your senior year of college and the week you spent running around Paris in the evening, dancing along the Seine and holding your first love under the moonlight. Every time you were invited to Paris since then, something would stop you going- it would only remind you of the most beautiful week you had spent with Sungchan as your anniversary trip.

By the time the entrées arrive, the conversation has moved onto updates from Eunseok- how much his little brother has grown since you last saw him, how his family got an adorable new dog and how his parents are getting older. Your families were friends too, just like Hana's family and Sungchan's family. It's a shame you missed out on so much, but you know it's your fault anyway.

You make it through dinner by ignoring that steady thrum in your veins and the pumping of your heart just being in the same room as the one who haunts your memories, but it becomes harder when the couple moves you into the living room to mingle and chat with flutes of mixed alcohol.

"We actually have a task to do for tonight," Hana smirks slyly as you all turn towards her, "We haven't actually figured out who you're gonna walk down the aisle with."

"We thought it'd be better to choose after seeing who looks good together," Shotaro shrugs, "Height differences and that."

Hana claps her hands definitely, "Okay, everyone just go stand with a partner and then me and Taro will shuffle as we see fit."

You freeze, having not been informed of this by your best friend beforehand. With a glimpse of hope, you tug at Eunseok's sleeve and he looks at you with a confused glance.

Jiwoo frowns at you across the room, "Wait- I get it for the rest of us but the maid of honour and best man are walking down together, right?"

Your face probably mirrors Sungchan's - like a deer caught in headlights as you both begin to chuckle awkwardly.

Hana's eyes widen as she looks at you apologetically, "I suppose so. Though it doesn't have to be."

"It makes most sense that way," Taehee agrees beside Anton.

"Um, then Sungchan and Y/N, you guys can just sit down or help us match," Shotaro quickly splutters out.

Nodding in agreement, you float over to Hana's side again, like two opposite poles on a magnet. She smiles at you sheepishly and you subtly dismiss her. It's her wedding- you just had to suck it up. Sungchan takes a seat away from where you were standing, trying to busy himself on his phone.

In the end, it took an excessive amount of time to decide on the final pairings, made all the more difficult by the absence of the girls' heels that played a part in the decision-making. You had no idea that something so trivial could take up so much of an evening and cause such hilarious tiffs fuelled by wine.

Hana gasps from the corner, "Wait, where's the camera? I want pictures of everyone for the scrapbook."

Shotaro retrieves a baby blue polaroid camera displayed on their book shelf and loads a new cartridge of film inside. Your heart is beating fast as Hana shoo's each couple against a deemed-aesthetic backdrop and snaps a single, quick photo of the two that prints out in just seconds.

Surely she wouldn't do that to you, right?

But when her head turns towards you and a soft, pleading smile graces her features, you're resigned to standing up and following the orders she's sending telepathically.

"Sungchan, c'mere. I need one of you and Y/N," Hana calls out gently.

Wordlessly, he rises from the spot he's been planted on for the better part of an hour and positions himself beside you, with a good distance separating your shoulders.

Hana raises the camera to her eye, but she clicks her tongue in frustration, "I can't get you both in."

"Just step backwards," Sungchan advises, his tone light, but with an edge.

"I want all the pictures at the same angle," she counters, "Just move a little closer together."

"Y/N won't bite, right?" Mina laughs jokingly, to which you try your best to give a convincing chuckle.

He shuffles a little closer to you, the fabric of your shirts brushing against each other delicately. You're focused on keeping the smile on your face as neutral and natural as possible, silently pleading your best friend with your eyes to hurry up.

She finally counts down and clicks the button, the flash blinding you for a split second. Before you could even fully regain your vision, Sungchan has already traversed the room to join Seunghan and Wonbin nosy through the bookshelf.

Ouch. He really wants nothing to do with you.

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iii. you left me no choice but to stay here forever

Exactly one week before the wedding, Hana bursts into your room with a panicked look.

"What's wrong?" you gasp at her state, scrambling up from the edge of the bed where you were scrolling lazily on your phone.

"Taro forgot to pick up the wedding rings," Hana pants out, clear frustration in her eyes, "The jeweller's going out of town tomorrow."

"Oh!" your own eyes widen, "Do you need me to go pick them up then?"

"Yeah, please! If you can," she smooths out the white dress she was wearing, "I'd do it but it's the opposite direction to where we need to go and we're already running hella late."

You stand up and steady her by her shoulders, "Don't worry about it. That's what I'm here for, yeah? To make your life easier."

Hana relaxes with a sigh of relief and pulls you into a hug, "What would I do without you?"

The couple were off to another one of their endless wedding appointments, which was seemingly going to take up their whole day. It was still just the morning, but Shotaro was running down the stairs already, calling for Hana to get in the car.

"I'll text you the address, okay? I'll also text the jeweller that you'll be coming," she smiles gratefully before disappearing out of the front door.

Instead of buying traditional wedding rings at a famous store, they decided to have their own personal set made that was completely tailor-made and customised for them at a small, local business. You thought it was sweet how they wanted to design the ring that would symbolise their union and love together instead of any old, generic piece of metal.

Taking the subway over to the store wasn't a bad experience- it was a hot walk over to the station, but the carriages were air conditioned and not terribly busy. It's a stark contrast to the hot, cramped and dirty tube of your current home city.

The jeweller's shop is in a part of the city near your old university; you used to frequent the area a lot, so you were experiencing major nostalgia walking the streets again after a long time. You even contemplated visiting your favourite stores and coffee shop after picking up the rings, hoping that taking a trip down memory lane won't hurt you too much.

When you reach the shop, it's empty save a couple sat across an attendant looking at rings together at a table in the corner. At the check-out desk, an older gentleman is polishing a set of gold rings.

"Hi, my name is Y/N! I'm here to pick up the wedding rings for Hana and Shotaro," you inform the man.

His eyes crinkle with a smile, "Ah, you came first. Wait here while I get them. Feel free to take a look around as well."

You frown at his words but dismiss them as you spot the case filled with rings of all styles and metals. There's some engagement rings with dazzling precious stones and intricate bands, but there's also a bunch of unique sets of rings that you assume are ready to sell.

When you were younger, you used to think that you wanted the largest diamond with the most elaborate designs and stones to show off. As you grew older, you realised that you just wanted a ring that would signify the love your other half had for you, no matter the size or price.

Your finger traces along the display case, humming lightly as you evaluate them all and try to guess what Hana and Shotaro's rings would look like. Would they be silver or gold? Would they have diamonds? Would they be engraved?

"Y/N?" the deep voice startles you from behind and you jump on the spot.

You turn, meeting face-to-face with Sungchan. Your heart skips a beat.

"Sungchan, what are you doing here?"

His eyebrows are tugged together in confusion, "Shotaro asked me to pick up the wedding rings."

Your mouth dries, "Ah. Hana asked me to do the same."

"Really? They didn't talk about it?" Sungchan frowns.

"They were in a rush, to be fair," you say awkwardly.

"Oh, okay. Well if you're here, then I guess I'll go," he nods, turning his body towards the door, "See ya."

"Oh, you must be the best man!" the jeweller laughs a full-bellied laugh as he emerges from the back, "Must have been some miscommunication with the bridge and groom as I got two separate messages telling me they each sent someone here."

"Yeah, that's me," Sungchan chuckles, "If I'm not needed then I'll head off."

"Have a look at the rings," the jeweller beckons the two of you over instead to a free desk with chairs on either side, "We'll be shutting the store down tomorrow for a couple of weeks, so inspect and make sure it's all okay. I have some information to pass along to the couple too."

Reluctantly, Sungchan approaches the table with you and takes the plush seat beside you. In another universe, you look just like the other couple in store, grinning at each other with lovestruck smiles as you tried on different rings. You push the thought away and swallow the mass in your throat down.

The jeweller takes out two red leather boxes from inside a small carrier bag that has a sticker with their names on it. He sets out the boxes in front of you and moves the bag aside.

"The couple requested the rings to be engraved so there's no risk of you taking away the wrong rings anyway," he clarifies as he picks up one of the boxes, "This one's for the bride."

When he opens it up, you're floored in awe at the beauty of the ring. It's a band of beautiful diamonds sparkling under the light of the store. He tilts the ring and brings it up closer to your eyes until you can see the small letters on the inside- S&H.

"It's beautiful," you whisper.

He twists the ring around in his grip, "No diamonds missing, no cracks or gaps or breaks, yes?"

When you nod in confirmation, he shows it to Sungchan who wordlessly inspects the precious stones. The jeweller places it back in the box and does the same with Shotaro's ring, which has less diamonds but is still shiny.

He puts the boxes back in the bag and shows you the booklets he had places inside, "There's ring care instructions, the certificates for the warranty and what to do if there's anything wrong with the ring."

You nod as you take in the information.

His eyes soften, "Please send my regards to the lovely couple. I am heartbroken to not be able to send them off with their rings. I hope they love it."

"I'm sure they will," you hum as you take the small bag from him, "Thank you."

He spots the absence of metal on your fingers as you reach over, "Ah, no wedding or engagement ring on you, hm? Come and visit my store in the future if you happen to need one."

The back of your neck heats up, "No ring on me. I'll keep you in mind."

"What about you, best man? A lucky lady in your life?" he turns to your companion and drops him a wink, "Gotta get as much business as possible."

Sungchan flashes his bare fingers, "I'll come to you if the time ever comes."

Four years ago, you imagined that you would be way past this stage. It twists your heart to know your best friend gets to do all of it first. You're inexplicably happy for her that she's found the love of her life that she wants to spend forever with, but you always wished you could be doing these steps together. You both always wanted to get engaged at similar times, to get married in consecutive years, to have kids all at the same time, but you've fallen behind already.

"Y/N?" the jeweller calls out softly, breaking your trance, "Everything alright?"

You offer a small smile, "Yeah, sorry. Thank you for your time and the rings."

He waves you off with a genuine smile and you leave the store with Sungchan following behind you.

You take one brief look at him and his unsettled expression and murmur, "See you again soon."

"Wait, how'd you get here? By train?" you nod at him and he sighs, running a hand through his hair, "Come. I'll drop you off back at their place."

"That's not necessary. I can handle myself-"

Sungchan gives you a pointed look, clearly unimpressed, "You're carrying around rings worth thousands. Can't risk you losing them or getting robbed."

You look down at the bag, embossed with the logo of the jeweller's, "Uhm, you can just take it if you want and give it to them when you next see them."

"I'm sure they'd wanna see their rings as soon as possible when they get home," Sungchan argues, "Just get in the car with me, Y/N. We don't even have to speak."

Your mouth flattens into a grimace as he begins stomping towards his car parked along the road. Wordlessly, you climb into the passenger seat and secure the bag on your lap. He starts the car and turns on the radio loud enough where you couldn't hold a conversation over it.

You make it 15 minutes into the journey by watching the city go by through the window in front of you. You recognise most places, but it still is not completely all familiar.

It's hard to relax when you're in the car again with the person whose heart you broke. Your fingers grip into the bag and you try to control your breathing so your heart wouldn't run as fast.

"You're getting a call," Sungchan murmurs as he turns the radio down.

You're about to tell him that it's okay and you'll take it later, but when you take out the phone, you see it's your mother. She's a busy woman who doesn't always get the time to speak with you, so you always try to answer her calls.

You mumble a sorry to Sungchan and raise the phone to your ears, "Mhm, mother?"

"Hi my darling, I was just calling to check up on you. What are you up to?"

"I just picked up the wedding rings because Hana and Taro are busy and the store's closing for a bit," you tell her, "I'm on my way back to their house."

She gasps in delight, "How exciting! You're taking a taxi back? It sounds like you're in a car."

You debate internally whether you should tell her, "Sungchan is driving me back to their house. We were both accidentally sent over to the jeweller's."

"Sungchan?" her voice is reluctant and shaky as she utters his name.

"He's the best man," you can tell he's listening by the way his grip tightens on the steering wheel and his knuckles are turning white.

"Of course, you said," your mother remembers what you told her at dinner a few nights ago, "I'll leave you to it. Say hello to Sungchan for me- I haven't seen him and his family in a while. Will they be at the wedding?"

"I suppose," you murmur, "Love you, bye."

Your mother parrots the sentiment before the line clicks.

"My mother says hello," you tell him quietly.

Sungchan forces a small smile, "Thanks. It's been a long time."

Your heart aches at the thought of just how much your family loved and adored your first boyfriend. You started dating and hanging out when you were still teens in your childhood homes, so he and his family got friendly with yours and eventually became close. You've taken endless group trips together and merged your family so well, thinking that you were going to be forever.

The rest of the drive is done in near silence. Sungchan doesn't turn the radio up again, but he also doesn't utter a single word. You felt like you could hear your heartbeat in the quiet.

When he pulls up to the drive, he barely gives you a look as he gets out the car, "I just need to get my jacket I left the other night."

You swallow and nod, following him to the front door where you enter the passcode to get into the house. You don't really know what to do with yourself after you placed the bag on their coffee table.

Is it rude if you go to your room? Should you offer him a drink? Do you just wait by the door until he leaves?

Sungchan finds his jacket in a closet along the stairwell and he drapes it across his arm. You're waiting awkwardly in the middle of the front room when he stops in front of you with an unreadable, frustrated expression. He squints his eyes slightly at you before letting out a soft sigh.

"What?" the word drops from your mouth quietly.

He shakes his head, "It hurts to look at you."

The words feel like poison injected straight into your veins. Your mouth goes dry and hangs open, "Do you hate me?"

Of course he does. Of course he hates you.

You left him.

"I thought I did. I carried so much resentment over the past 4 years but looking at you again like this," Sungchan pauses and meets your eyes, "It just... hurts."

"I'm sorry," your head hangs low, "I'll be gone soon. You don't have to worry. You don't have to see me at all after all this."

Sungchan lets out a sarcastic, dry chuckle, "I wish that could be the case. What about when they have their first child? What about when the others start getting married too?"

You open your mouth to try and say something, but he continues, "I thought I was finally moving on or at least forgetting. It was a hard 3 years. Then, Shotaro tells me he's proposing and Hana says you're going to be the maid of honour and that in 7 months you'll be back in Seoul. I spent 7 months thinking about what to say to you when I see you again. 7 months wondering what it was going to be like between us. And then you come back and you can't even look me in the eyes. And I don't know what to say to you. And you're saying that I never have to see you again after. What do I even do with myself, Y/N?"

"I'm sorry," it's all you can say as you choke up and tears start forming on your lashes. You feel so pathetic, knowing there was nothing in the world you could say to make this easier.

"Even if you are, that doesn't fix anything," his voice cracks, "Do you actually not regret leaving? Leaving me?"

He brings you back to the other day in his car and you swallow nervously, "Of course I do, but I felt like it was the only choice I had back then. It was getting harder and harder to be with each other. We were fighting all the time for no reason and I had no idea how to fix us. And then I got that job offer I couldn't turn down and you got a good job here in Seoul."

Sungchan's hands ball into fists, "Every couple goes through hard times. I would have gone to the ends of the universe to fight for us. You were everything to me. Was I not to you?"

You snap, "You don't know how hard it was to leave."

"And you don't know how much worse it is to be the one left behind," his voice raises slightly in frustration as you realise that he's crying too, crystal tears falling from his pretty eyes, "What went wrong with us, Y/N? I still don't understand."

"I had no idea who I was without you. We spent every waking moment tethered to each other. Don't you think we needed to grow?" you whisper, "We were fighting so much I thought you would begin to resent me and that it meant we had outgrown each other."

"I wish we could have talked more about it before you left. You gave me no choice, Y/N. You just moved across the world and left me behind," the pain in his voice is evident, "I know I wasn't being a good boyfriend at the end. It was stressful starting that job and becoming an adult in the real world after college, but if you'd given me the chance-"

"There's no point talking about the what-if's," you interrupt him, "It'll only hurt us more."

"Do you still love me?" he questions suddenly.

Your face pales as you look up at him. His tears are flowing so fast, but so delicately- you wish you could reach up and dry his tears with your fingers, not too dissimilar from the way he used to kiss the tears off your cheeks in the past whenever you would have squabbles.

"What?"

He gulps, "I've spent 12 years loving you since the moment I met you. I'm so scared that I'm going to love you for the rest of my life."

"Sungchan-"

"I can't let you leave again without telling you. You have to know it's only ever going to be you."

Sungchan sniffles as he takes a step closer to you. His jacket that was on his arm is discarded on the floor.

"I'm so sorry," you whimper again as your eyes flutter shut. You bite your lip to try and control the tears.

Before you realise what was happening, you feel the soft pad of his thumb tug your lip out and then the pressure of his own mouth against yours as he captured your hot tears in his kiss. And like it was a reflex, you melt into his body and part your lips, giving him access and trying to forget that this was a terrible, terrible thing to do.

His large hands come up to cradle your face and he walks you backwards until your back hits the wall. You're both sobbing into the kiss, but you can't pull away even if you wanted to.

You haven't kissed anyone in 4 years and Sungchan's lips on yours feels like you finally came home to him. It's desperate, sloppy and you're both choking on your own tears as you move your mouth against his. Your heart and your brain have disconnected from each other and your hands are gripping the fabric of the jacket he was currently wearing like your life depends on it.

Time freezes in this moment with him and you don't know how long you're kissing for until you've both stopped crying and your mouth goes numb.

He presses his forehead against yours, "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too."

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iv. but you come back with gravity

You don't say anything to Hana when she knocks on your door later on in the evening once they returned. She texts you after, asking if you were awake and if you wanted dinner. You wait 30 minutes before replying that you were in and out of sleep, exhausted from all the exploring you told her that you did after collecting the rings. You're thankful she leaves you alone after that but not before apologising over the mix up with Sungchan and that she hoped he didn't bring you any trouble.

You toss and turn in the bed all night.

When the next day comes, you force yourself out at the crack of dawn, commandeering over the kitchen to cook your friends some breakfast. It was the least you could do for them as they hosted you. You knew Hana would be awake soon since she was still working remotely for a few days. Shotaro, on the other hand, could afford to take some leave by busying himself more than usual in the months prior to the wedding to make up for it.

When Hana comes down yawning, you greet her tiredly, "Hey."

"Awww, my Y/N cooked for me?" she pouted sweetly at you, "You're too sweet. I could get used to this; why don't you come back and live in our spare room forever?"

Your stomach flips on itself, "Do you think I should?"

Hana was about to bring a mouthful of egg into her mouth when she stills, "I mean I was joking but I don't think you are. You want to move back?"

The image of Sungchan from yesterday with tears in his eyes is burned into your brain and you can see him every time you blink, "No... it's just that-"

"Whatever it is, I would say move back. I'm the first- no the second person who wants you back here," she quips.

"Who's the first?"

She glares at you like you're stupid before tossing a piece of kimchi on top of your rice, "Did something happen yesterday? With Sungchan? Did he say something to you?"

You're in half a mind to blurt out the truth, but you stop yourself. You're here for your best friend and to make her life easier before her wedding, not to add problems. Maybe when she's back from her honeymoon and you're alone again in your flat in London you could tell her over FaceTime, but you hold your breath for now.

"No," you shake your head, "You getting married just has me thinking about my future. Like where I'm gonna end up and settle."

She shoots you a sympathetic look, "When did life suddenly whizz by? One second we're giggling by our lockers writing confession notes and the next we're thinking about where to root our lives. Anyway, I want you here, but more importantly, I want you where you're happy. I can tell it's been hard for you to come back here."

"I'm just kind of lost in life. I thought I could build a life in London and stay there forever. I have- kind of, but there's nothing that's actually keeping me there. If I packed up and moved away, no one is missing me," you sigh.

Hana claps like she suddenly had a bright idea, "You know what you should do while you're here? Open a dating app! Maybe you'll find your reason to stay."

You look at her like she's grown 10 heads, cause WTAF?

"I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that," you deadpan.

Hana rolls her eyes, "Seriously? Why not? Are you still in love with him or something? I thought that seeing him again would give you closure and you can finally move on."

You stay silent and she groans, putting her head in her hands, "Jesus, it's done the opposite, hasn't it? Made you feel things again?"

"This is not about me. Or Sungchan. Stop, stop," you frantically dismiss her, "No talking about my tragic love life. You're literally getting married!"

Hana sighs at you, "I am, but doesn't mean I can't care and worry about you. I have enough of myself to share with those I love, honestly. Getting married to Taro is gonna be one of the greatest things ever, but you know, I love him every single day regardless and not much has to change. It's a big deal to us but life still goes on for everyone else."

"I'm so happy you guys have each other," you tell her, voice dropping to a whisper.

"It's all thanks to you and him," she reminds you, "And if you realised that you still love him, I won't judge. I just don't want either of you to get hurt again."

You nod slowly, trying to internalise her words, "I'll be okay, right?"

She reaches across the table and squeezes your hand, "You're gonna be fine, my love. Whatever happens."

You finish up breakfast talking about what you were gonna do during the day instead. It was 6 days until the wedding and you were scheduled to pick up your dress from the tailors after they finished the adjustments. Hana was going to do some work first and then you both would go out and get the dress together, then have some brunch with some of your old friends from college. A lot of them stayed in town, but you both had lost touch with some of them after your move and Hana's fancy job she got straight out of school.

Spending the rest of the morning trying to relax proved to be futile. Every time you were left alone with your thoughts, all you could think about was Sungchan's lips on yours, the pressure of his body caging you in- and then the emptiness you felt when he ran away as soon as.

How could he tell you that he still loved you and proceed to flee after kissing you? Your brain and heart are in complete tatters.

You're still thinking about him by the time Hana knocks and tells you she finished up her work and you think about him the whole drive over to the bridal shop.

You think about him when you try on the dress again. You think about whether he'd think you're pretty in the dress. You think about the wedding dress you'd have picked if life went to plan.

On the whole walk to the brunch restaurant, Hana gave up on trying to capture your attention. She just links your arms together and hums into the air.

Minjeong and Jimin are already sat at the table when you arrive and they spring up in delight at the sight of you and crush you between them.

"Holy crap, you've been away as long as we knew you," Minjeong whines as you all sit down. Like the boys, you messaged her on special occasions and haven't substantially talked since, but you'll always hold a lot of love for the few friends you made in college.

Minjeong and Jimin lived in the apartment next to yours for your entire college journey. They too were best friends from childhood and you and Hana mirrored them in so many ways.

"How are you? How's London?" Jimin asks curiously.

"It's weird to be back, for sure," you smile slightly, "But I'm happy to see you guys again. London's London- busy, gloomy, grey."

"Did you make friends okay over there? Find a new man?" Minjeong raises her eyebrows. Jimin elbows her in the side and gives you a sheepish look.

It wasn't like you made a public statement that you and Sungchan broke up, but people must have noticed something was up when you started posting in the UK and disappeared off each other's social media accounts.

"Still just me," you chuckle, "Anyway, what are you guys wearing to the wedding?"

Jimin claps her hands excitedly and rushes to her phone to show you the photos of their dresses. They're coming in complimentary pastel yellow dresses with frills and all.

"You guys are gonna look so good! Like cute little twins as always," Hana squeals in approval, "No dates for either of you?"

Winter grimaces, "We've not been as lucky as you in that department. I don't know if we scare each other's potential suitors off."

"Taro was terrified of Y/N for a while, remember?," Hana reminisces fondly, "He was my first proper boyfriend, so Y/N really lay on the act thick to make sure he would treat me well."

"And my screening process worked, didn't it? You're the one getting married in 6 days," you quip at her.

"Yes, I have you to thank of course," she nuzzles into your side, "Why does it now seem like I'm not going to be attending any of your weddings anytime soon? I want to attend one that's not my own!"

Jimin snorts, "I can get eloped for you, if you want. What age did you guys want to get married?"

Winter sighs, "I wanted to get married out of college," and then gives the stink eye to her best friend who mutters under her breath that she should have tried harder then.

"Around this age would have been nice, I think," you say sadly, playing with the rings on your fingers and trying to imagine how they would look beside a wedding or engagement ring.

"I told her to go on a dating app earlier, but she said no," Hana informs them.

"That's modern dating now, unfortunately. We can't all have high school or college sweethearts," Jimin purses her lips in thought, "Or how about you just get back together with your ex?"

It's Winter's turn to smack her friend's arm in shock, "Yah, that's so out of pocket, Jimin! Sorry Y/N."

You attempt to keep your face neutral as Jimin giggles innocently, "Sorry Y/N. It's just that I heard that he's been single this whole time. You've seen him recently, right?"

"He's Taro's best man," Hana nods, "We've had a few wedding events and dinners since Y/N got here."

"It's not really up to me, I think. I'm the one that up and left."

Winter reaches across the table to grab your hand and comfort you, "You must've had your reasons, Y/N-ie. Sorry, I know you probably don't want to talk about it."

"It's fine- it's just complicated," you smile softly in reassurance.

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v. i could go on and on and on, and i will go on and on and on until it all comes back

4 days out from the wedding and you find yourself alone in Seoul again. Hana and Shotaro decided they needed a spa day to relax just before it got incredibly intense over the weekend and asked if you wanted to join. Of course, you weren't going to sandwich yourself in the nearly newlywed's plans.

You remember the café near the jeweller's you wanted to visit, eager to see how time has changed the shop just as it had changed you. Taking the subway was tiring, of course, but you occupy your time by people-watching through every stop. It's a weekday, so the carriage isn't so busy during the middle of the day. You're lucky enough to find a row of seats and be able to rest your feet.

The walk to the café from the station isn't long, but you walk slow and take in your surroundings on the sunny day. It's hard when your memories are so entwined with the one you didn't have anymore.

Every corner you turn, you can still picture you and Sungchan there walking, holding hands and bright-eyed. He'll probably have said something ridiculous that made you laugh and you'll have playfully hit him on his arm and cuddled into his side as he dropped a kiss on the top of your head.

Being in Seoul brings back all the nostalgia of your youth.

You order a refreshing iced drink, slightly sad that you don't recognise the cashier behind the till. Your feet carry you to an empty table before you can realise it's the one you liked to sit at before- by a window, far away enough from both the front door and the toilet, and with a view of the main street in front to watch the world go by. You know there's a charging port at your feet and that it takes 12 steps to get to the stand with the tissues, sugars and stirrers. You know that you've spent many hours hunched over on the seat, trying to complete each essay and assignment. You know what you like off the menu and what you don't. You know that it's where you had your first date with Sungchan in the city when your parents let you out at 16 together.

It hurts to remember the very first time you were here, giggling, flustered and nervous for your very first date with a boy- the same boy you'd been infatuated with since the first time you laid eyes on him 2 years prior. Sungchan had carried your bag on his shoulder the whole train ride over and tried his best to look all tall and tough to protect you in the big city despite it being one of his first times going to the city without an adult. He had opened all the doors for you, pulled out all the chairs and paid for all your drinks and food as he listened to you ramble about cute cakes and pastries.

You had talked about your high school exams, what you wanted to do in college and how you imagined your futures. He had told you all about his sweet family, his love for football and things you never got to know about him in a group situation.

On the way home, with the sun about to set, he held your hand the whole way.

You stop reminiscing when a figure takes a seat in front of you, and then you're thrown straight back in.

"What are you doing here?" you ask Sungchan tentatively, unsure what to make of his presence.

"Hana told me you might come here today. I was going to come to the house to see you," Sungchan says simply, playing with his fingers, "I didn't really have any way to reach you."

Of course- your Korean number was long deactivated, you had unfollowed each other on social media and your temporary number was shared only with those you deemed it necessary.

You look up at him through your eyelashes, expression slightly menacing from the way it brought a pang to your heart to look at him. You knew exactly how he felt when he said it hurt to look at you.

"You left, Sungchan. You told me you missed me and then you left," you murmured quietly, suddenly hyper-aware of your surroundings.

He sighs longingly, "I know. I'm sorry for that. But my head's a mess, I'm confused and I don't know where we stand."

"You're the one that kissed me," you continue accusing him.

"You kissed me back and I didn't expect it. You told me you missed me," he bores his eyes into yours, "But you're going to leave again in a few days and I don't know if my heart can handle it again to watch you walk away."

"What's our options here?" you grip the cup in your hands tightly, "We just forget everything happened, just get through the wedding and then never look back?"

"Is that what you want?" there's a tinge of hurt in his voice.

"What I want and what I can have are two different things."

He pauses and then swallows, "What do you want?"

"You said it- it's only ever going to be you," you confess.

There's no point lying to him; you know each other better than you know yourselves- or at least you did. He knows your soul like it's his own, learned you inside and out over the years you grew up beside each other. You might've changed a bit away from each other, but you were each other's anchor in your formative years. Of course he knows you.

You watch his eyes transform with hope and then hesitancy, "What's stopping us from being together then?"

"We haven't spoken in 4 years and the most we've done here is argue," you remind him, "And I could love you with all my heart and every inch of my being, but that doesn't mean we'll work again."

Sungchan looks at you with those big, brown eyes that transports you 10 years back, in the very same seat, as he asked you to be his girlfriend, "Can we just try?"

10 years ago, you had blushed and hid your face in your hands. He had laughed sweetly, melodiously, prying your fingers away from your visage. You had giggled out a small 'yes' and he had entangled your fingers together in glee.

But now you're 10 years older, cheeks less puffy and the passage of time eroding at the innocent naïvety you both held. But love has no timeline, hope even less.

You're the one to reach over to his restless fingers and entwine them in yours, "Yes."

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You have more questions than you have answers. You have more anxiety than you have reassurance. Your head spins the minute you attempt to solve all the newfound puzzles and dilemmas in your head, but you try to bury them back deep into your brain so you could focus on your task at hand and what you came here for.

Like most brides before their wedding, Hana was starting to get a bit nervous. She had absolutely no doubt about marrying Shotaro of course, but it was a lot of stress to deal with all the moving parts and logistics of actually holding the wedding. Every evening, you've been sitting with the couple, going through their to-do-lists and wedding plans to make sure you didn't miss a single detail.

To be honest, there's nothing left to do until the rehearsal dinner you were hosting tomorrow, which was the day before the wedding. Overthinking details unnecessarily would just add stress to the couple, so you've been trying to reassure them everything was going to be perfect.

"It's actually so close," Hana exhales slowly, as she closes her eyes and tries to relax.

You're sat outside in the lawn chairs of their garden, basking in the late afternoon summer sun, "My best friend is going to be a married woman in 2 days."

"And then you're going to leave again," you can hear the pout in her voice, "When's the next time we can take time off work so we can properly hang out without the wedding planning being the center of attention? HR probably won't let me for another 6 months, but I'm itching to come visit you in London already."

"Don't act like your wedding isn't the most exciting thing that's ever happened to either of us," you scoff at her.

"It is, but it's literally consumed our entire life," Hana puffs out, "I'm excited to see it come together, though. Make sure you try and have fun at the wedding too, okay? I know I asked you for a lot of favours as my maid of honour, but I still want you to have a good time. Maybe meet one of Taro's cousins or studio friends."

You flush red at the sudden thought in your head, "Don't say anything, okay, but Sungchan and I are gonna, um, come to your wedding together-" Hana slaps her hand over her mouth and you sit up, "I said don't say anything!"

Over the past 2 days, you'd been texting and chatting on the phone a lot in the times you could. He was still working during the day as a hot-shot physiotherapist for one of the elite football teams in the city, so he didn't have time to see you when you were available. You'd agreed to be each other's dates to your best friends' wedding, even though the time you would spent with each other was probably going to be very limited with your duties. It's the thought that counts.

Hana's peering at you with the widest, most shocked eyes, "What did I miss? What the hell?"

"It's nothing," it's everything, "We just got to talking a bit, decided to see if it might go anywhere and stick this time. We're taking it like really slow."

Hana rolls her eyes, "How slow do you have to go? You're already each other's greatest love- oh don't give me that look!" she reaches out to poke your exasperated expression, "I get it. You don't want to get hurt and you don't want to hurt each other. Just don't stand in the way of your own happiness."

"I'm sorry to make it about me," you sigh, "We're not going to be obvious at your wedding or anything."

She reaches over to take your hand, "Babe, I told you, your happiness is my happiness and I mean it. You know I've always rooted for the two of you."

Hana was the very first supporter of your relationship. While she came to know her soon-to-be husband through you and Sungchan, you only ended up together in the first place by Hana getting fed up of you dancing around each other and basically telling Sungchan to ask you out on a date. She'd spent 2 years listening to you go on and on about the cute guy that moved into the neighbourhood and watched as he fell for you with every waking day. You were both too shy to make a move, until she cornered him and convinced him that you would definitely say yes to a date (even the blind could sense that you'd say yes in a heartbeat).

"I love you. I'm so lucky to have you as my best friend," you sniffle, squeezing her hand.

"Save the confession for your Prince Charming. I think he just got here," Hana nods behind you, in the direction of the house.

"What? You didn't tell me he was coming over? He didn't say!" you scramble up to your feet, afraid to turn around knowing you'd find him leaning against the door frame of the garden door.

"Hey!" you hear his familiar sweet voice.

"Sungchan-ie, come here," Hana beckons him over and motions for you to sit down again, "Come join us. What are you doing here?"

"Taro asked me to hang out," he shrugs and takes the chair besides yours, flashing you a sweet smile as he did so, "Sorry for breaking in, but I thought you two would be out having girl-time and getting pampered."

"Our appointments were pretty efficient," Hana shrugs. You had spent the morning doing your final beauty treatments and touch ups - nails, brows, last-minute hair tweaks, lashes, facials and all. You managed to get through them all quickly and ended up having enough time to lay out in the garden with a cocktail on the side-tables, "Taro should be home soon, though. He's probably caught in some traffic back from the airport as he picked up his family."

"Do you want a drink?" you ask him, motioning to the pair of glasses.

"D'you make that?" he quirks in amusement.

You nod, "I befriended the bartender at the pub I live near. She taught me how to make some good cocktails."

"You're full of surprises," he chuckles at you, "Up for passing on that knowledge?"

You look back at Hana, who simply turns her face away with a smirk as she closed her eyes to appreciate the sun. You get up with Sungchan and motion for him to follow you into the kitchen.

"You told her? That girl cannot keep a neutral expression to save her life," Sungchan utters behind you, his tone amused.

"I said we were going to the wedding together, if that's okay," you prepare the ingredients in front of you.

"Mhm, more than okay. I'm sure she was happy to hear that," he muses, "Did she tell you how thick she laid it on in the weeks before you got here? Every time I saw her, she would remind me that I shouldn't miss my chance when you got here."

You gasp at your scheming best friend, "No way! She's the one that's been telling me to get on a dating app! And wanted to set me up with Taro's colleagues!"

Sungchan pouts in faux betrayal, clutching at his heart like he got shot, "Back-stabber! I thought she was on my side!"

You laugh at his antics, "Nah, I think she was playing the long-game with us. Anyway, watch and learn, yeah?"

Sungchan watches in fascination as you show him how to make a salt and chilli rim and how to mix a cocktail together. He's delighted at the way you shake the drink in the shaker the same way bartenders do it and begs you to let him try. You watch him carefully to make sure that the liquid wouldn't explode everywhere throughout your best friend's house and he's smiling in triumph as he strains out the drink into the cup.

You'd forgotten just how adorable he is when he's not trying to ignore you in the room.

"You're an expert too," you clap happily, "Like it?"

"Best cocktail I've ever had! Thank you!" he proclaims, and then sticks himself by your side, slinging a casual arm around your shoulder to pull you close, "I didn't get to say hi properly. Tell me about your day."

"We just went appointment to appointment," you show him your nails that he coos at, "Went café hopping a bit and then came home to chill since it was so sunny."

"Mhm, it'd be so nice to go to the beach," Sungchan sighs dreamily before his expression changes, "Oh, yeah. When are you going back to London?"

"I've got three full days after the wedding," you try to keep your voice steady, not wanting to give away how unsettled you felt about all the uncertainty, "We can spend that time together, yeah?"

He smiles gently, reaching up to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear and then placing his large palm on your cheek, "We can make the most of it. Then I'll find a good time to come see you in London."

It makes your heart skip a beat, "That'd be nice."

Sungchan's eyes furrow together as he maintains his warm touch on you. He leans down, "Can I kiss you?"

You don't reply. Instead, you reach up and press your lips against his. This time it's sweet and full of adoration instead of the angst and desperation of a few days ago. He smiles against your lips and you taste the hint of salt, vodka and a little something sweet. When he pulls away, he leans his forehead against yours and exhales, content and feeling like he can finally breathe again.

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vi. i trust the universe will always bring me to you

The day comes around all too quickly when time had been passing so slow in the week before. The rehearsal dinner was beautiful, but over in a flash and then suddenly, you were in the guesthouse of the venue, watching with teary eyes as your best friend in the world clips her veil on.

Her mother sniffles next to you, clutching your arm tightly. Hana was biting her pink-stained lips, trying to keep herself from crying off her pretty makeup. The room's drop-dead quiet with all eyes trained on her on her special day.

"My beautiful baby," Hana's mother coos at her only daughter when she looked over at you all expectantly for your reactions.

"You're gonna make me cry! Stop it," she whines adorably, but accepts the tight squeeze her mother wraps her in.

She turns to you and you have to look up to blink the tears away before you can hug her again, "The most beautiful bride in the world," you whisper fondly, "I am so happy for you, Hana."

"Thank you for being here with me," she says sincerely, squeezing your hands, "And for being my best friend in the world."

She gives her bridesmaid hugs too until the coordinator tells you it's time for your best friend to get married. You all file out of the room in order to walk over to the ceremony hall, with Hana being the last one to leave. Ahead of you when you get to the entrance, you finally see the boys all huddled around Shotaro, who looked both nervous and giddy at the same time.

Hana stays hidden from the groom, but you spot the tallest boy of the group and tug on his sleeve.

"Y/N," he gasps when he turns around, his gaze softening into pure adoration, "Oh, baby, you look so beautiful."

The dress you picked out with Hana falls perfectly on your body and the colour is the perfect complement to your skin. The fabric drapes delicately in all the right places and hugs where it should. It makes you feel incredible, especially when Sungchan reacts the way he does.

"You look really handsome too, Sungchan," you reach up to straighten his tie as you all file into your orders.

"Shall we?" Sungchan asks nervously, offering his arm out to you as he notices the other pairs link together.

You smile at him, entwining your arms together and pressing yourself into his side. Before you forget, you turn around to see Shotaro rubbing his hands together.

"It's gonna be amazing, Taro," you reassure him.

Shotaro sighs in relief, "I just can't wait to marry her."

You're happy to know your best friend gets the happy ending she deserves.

Sungchan nudges you when the door opens and the pairs start walking down the aisle. It goes by in a heartbeat for you- you don't even remember what happened between the time you started walking and the time you and Sungchan separated to stand on either side of the altar.

When Hana walks in, you almost cry again. She's radiant in white and her eyes are so full and shiny with love as she keeps her eyes on her groom waiting for her. The wedding is beautiful and the vows make everyone laugh and cry.

You meet Sungchan's eyes multiple times through the ceremony and each time, he gives you this subtle, but comforting smile to reassure you that he was there. You wonder if you'd have been in Hana and Shotaro's place earlier had everything not happened.

Ever since she asked you to be her maid of honour, you've been preparing for the speech you were asked to give at the reception. You're nervous the whole time as the MC introduces you and prepares to hand you the mic and Hana gently squeezes your hand before you stand up with a fond look in her eyes. Sungchan on the other side of Shotaro is still looking at you like you hung the stars.

"For those that don't know me, my name is Y/N and Hana has been my best friend since we were born," you begin slowly, taking the time to breathe, "Our parents are friends from the same neighbourhood and we grew up together, practically as twins. When we were young, we were as inseparable as they came and did everything together. We went to all the same schools, all the way up to college, which was when I introduced Shotaro to her.

"Hana was the reason that I was able to date my first love by her meddling in high school. Ever since then, I had wanted to find the perfect match for her to share her heart with and to make her happy. Sorry Shotaro, but Hana has been my other half since birth and I felt like I knew her well enough to know who she'd click with. When I first met Shotaro in that tiny freshman dorm, I knew he'd be perfect for Hana.

"Taro and Hana are two of the most loving, gentle and caring people I have in my life and I can't be any happier to know that my best friend is loved the exact way she deserves. She's the best person I know and knowing I played a part in introducing her to her person makes me so happy. Even though I'm thousands of miles across the world, their love inspires me every day. They've felt like a married couple since the day they started dating and their love hasn't flickered or weaned once since.

"It feels just like yesterday when Hana and I were planning our dream weddings in our childhood bedrooms and here we are now, marrying you off to the love of your life. May the rest of your life together be filled with endless love and happy memories. I love you both so much."

Hana is tearing up by the time you finish your speech and you have to gulp to hold your own tears back. She stands up to hug you tightly and Shotaro follows beside her. They both thank you for the lovely speech and you hand the mic over to Sungchan once he's announced.

"When I met Shotaro on the first day of freshman year, I was honestly terrified. He looked so intimidating and scary up until I found out that it was only because he wasn't quite fluent in Korean yet and was actually from Japan. We were roommates in freshman year, so we got to know each other pretty well. He's been my best friend since and I'm grateful to have such a thoughtful, considerate, sweet and of course, talented, friend in him.

"Taro and Hana's very first date was at a diner on the other side of the city. What you two don't know is that Y/N and I actually followed you there and spied on you in wigs and glasses," you gasp in remembrance at the memory and burst out into a large smile, "And then we swore to each other that we'd keep this secret until your wedding day after your disastrous first date when you both came home crying in frustration because you liked each other so much that you were too nervous on the first date. We had to chaperone your next few dates and it was such an honour for us to watch you fall in love with each other with our very own eyes.

"I met Hana at 14 and I was scared of her for a few years, but even then, I knew she was a crazy loyal best friend to Y/N, who would do anything for her best friend's happiness. Even now, she shows me she cares in all the small and big ways and having the two of them in my life makes me feel very lucky. And even though I cringe at you two for still being in your honeymoon phase 8 years later, I couldn't be any happier that you have each other to have and to hold. Thank you for everything you've done for me and I also love you both very, very much."

Later on in the night after the dinner and cake-cutting, Jiwoo, Seunghan and Sungchan join you at the bar getting the signature cocktails created by the couple.

"You guys did such lovely speeches," Jiwoo says sincerely, clinking her drink against yours.

"Thank you. I didn't want to embarrass them so I held back on that aspect," Sungchan chuckles.

"And you mentioned that Hana set you up with your first love. Are you still together? Are they here?" she asks you curiously, innocent to the situation.

Seunghan coughs into his drink and has to turn around to control his face. Sungchan tenses up beside you, but you look over at him and smile softly, "Yeah, he's here."

Jiwoo's eyes widen in shock as she begins to laugh awkwardly, "Oh! I'm sorry- I didn't know you guys were together! Hana never mentioned!"

"Don't worry, Jiwoo," you reassure her.

"Jiwoo, look- Mina's calling you over," Seunghan points out across the room, where Mina, Taehee and Anton were chatting at a table. Jiwoo flashes a sheepish smile before she disappears away into the crowd. The younger boy looks between the two of you, "I thought that was taboo."

Sungchan rolls his eyes at his friend and places his free hand around your waist to the bewilderment of Seunghan, "None of your business."

He slaps his palm across his mouth, "I knew it! I knew this was going to happen."

"Don't go around telling everyone now," you request from him, "It's Hana and Taro's wedding after all."

"Of course," Seunghan nods enthusiastically and then relaxes into a soft smile, "I'm happy for the two of you, though."

He's whisked away by Eunseok and Wonbin, who both stare confused at your proximity but decide against saying anything as they get chased down by Hana's eccentric grandmother who always loved Eunseok when you were all younger.

Sungchan squeezes at your waist, "How you feeling?"

You look around the room at mostly familiar faces and the sight of your best friends breaking it down on the dance floor, "It's crazy- like, they're really married! When did we all grow up so fast?"

"I know, right? They'll be having kids soon, I bet," Sungchan agrees with a fond stare over at the couple, "The wedding was so beautiful as well."

"But then it's over just like that," you sigh, "Well, I guess those two are going off to their honeymoon literally tonight, so it won't feel like it's over for them yet."

"Oh, tonight? They're just leaving you in the house alone?" Sungchan raises an eyebrow curiously.

"Mhm, Hana didn't want me to book a hotel for just a few days," you say off-handedly, not picking up on his tone.

"Oh," Sungchan gulps, "I don't want you to be alone- do you, maybe, wanna come over?"

When your head whips around to look at him, he's already flushing red. You don't know if it's the alcohol or something else, but he's gnawing on his lip. You just give him a reassuring smile, "I'd like that, actually."

After some dancing with your best friend and childhood friends and some mingling with the parents, you're saying a very tearful goodbye to Hana and Shotaro in the foyer of the venue. Their bags are packed and with them and they're about to head to the airport to jet away.

"Promise you'll come back more often, yeah?" Hana is crying into your shoulder, "Thank you for everything you've done this week. I'm gonna miss you so much."

You have a feeling you'll be back much sooner than another 4 years.

"Enjoy yourself, okay? You're gonna have such a great time, Mrs. Osaki!" you sniffle into her jumper.

You embrace Shotaro in a similar fashion as he also thanks you for the help. He drops a wink as he says, "Check on the house at least once before you go, okay? I know you probably won't be there much."

"No idea what you're talking about," you try to keep a straight face, but you both burst out laughing.

You watch them ride off into the night in a blacked out SUV and try to dry your tears as you feel a weight drop on your shoulders in the form of an arm, "Ready to go? The taxi's coming soon."

Sungchan's presence is warm in the blustery foyer, "Yeah."

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

You rest your eyes with your head on his shoulder the entire journey back to Sungchan's place. His hand finds home on your thigh, the pad of his thumb brushing repeatedly over the silk of your dress. His suit jacket sits comfortably around your shoulders as you doze in and out of sleep, but the car stops before you've even realised.

"We're here, Y/N," he whispers to pull you into consciousness. He thanks the driver and rushes around to your door to open it for you.

It's dark when you step out and the nearest street light doesn't illuminate your surroundings enough for you to recognise what part of the city you were in. Sungchan grips your hand in his tightly all the way through the side-street and into the lobby of the apartment building.

He keeps quiet beside you, only the pattering of your heels and his dress shoes echoing into the empty room. You come to your senses quickly and then gasp.

"Sungchan," you freeze beside him.

He chuckles softly, "Yeah, I know."

"No one told me," you say quietly as he leads you to the elevator, "Chanie."

"It's home," he shrugs as he presses the floor of the apartment.

You're nervous when you get off at the floor, then it grows as he keys in the code on the pad. You gulp at the order of the numbers- the same sequence it's been since you moved in four and a half years ago.

"Welcome back," Sungchan murmurs behind you. He places his hand on the small of your back to gently guide you inside, since your feet were planted into the ground.

It smells exactly the same as when you left (though more of his scent and none of yours) and then he turns the lights on and you choke up as it looks nearly identical as before. It's the very first home you and your first love moved into together and it breaks your heart all over again to know he's been living here this whole time.

The shoe rack you picked out still sits by the door, but it's only occupied by large men's shoes now. The artwork you and Sungchan bickered about is still hanging above the chest of drawers on the other side of the door where you used to dump keys and bags and other knick knacks you collected for the 6 months you lived here.

"Oh, baby, don't cry," Sungchan is now in front of you, wiping at the tears you didn't even know were falling.

"Why didn't you move out?" you lean into his touch.

"Because this was our first home," he says, "And this was all I had left of you."

You crash your body against his, wrapping your arms around his waist tightly as your tears soaked into his dress shirt, now stained with your makeup.

"Shh, don't cry, my love. It's okay. I was strong enough," Sungchan murmurs into your hair as he presses his lips into your scalp, "You know that I love you, mhm? I always will."

"Channie, I love you," you cry even harder as he squeezes you, "I'm so, so sorry."

"I know. But you came back home to me," Sungchan sighs contently, smoothing your hair down to comfort you, "That's all I can ask for."

"I ruined us."

Sungchan shakes his head, "No, baby. You're here now. It's fine."

"It's all my fault."

Sungchan unwraps your arms from around him and takes your hand to lead you to the bedroom you made home in the past. He sits you down at the edge of the bed as you cry and crouches in front of you, holding your hands.

"You look so, so beautiful, my love. Don't cry, come on," he soothes, "I'm here, Y/N. I'm here."

Sungchan finds a packet of makeup wipes from your bag and swipes gently at your face as you sniffle and try to stop your tears. He goes through a few before the makeup is no longer staining your face and he hands you some tissue to blow your nose from the sobbing. While he waits for you patiently, you look up at the ceiling to try and stop the hot, silent tears that kept escaping.

"Do you think we'd have been married by now?" you ask, guilt surging in your vessels, "We always wanted to get married as soon as possible."

Sungchan's soft gaze falters for a second, but then he comes up to sit next to you and wrap you in his large arms, "It doesn't matter, Y/N. It's not your fault."

"But I left," you mutter.

"And I made you feel like you had to," Sungchan pats you comfortingly, "We'll be better this time, mhm? We'll know better."

"But what if I'm not the same person anymore you used to love?"

Sungchan furrows his brows tightly together, "That's nonsense. The moment I saw you again in that café, I knew. You're still the one who has my heart. I promise."

He holds you a few minutes longer, whispering sweet nothings into your ears as you halt the crying. You grip onto him tightly, afraid he was going to leave you- ironic, isn't it?

When you finally calm down, he drags you to the bathroom to brush your teeth together with his spare toothbrush and he washes your face with a foaming cleanser while you do the same to him. When you're applying his moisturiser on your skin, he watches from behind you, arms holding onto your waist as he blinks slowly through the mirror. And when you realise you don't have any clothes, he unzips your dress from the top and dresses you up in one of his favourite shirts, adoring the way it swamps you.

He gives you this look and pulls you under the sheets, immediately tackling you into a hug and covering your body with his.

"This isn't really taking it slow, is it?" you hum, tracing shapes onto his bare arms.

"It is for me," Sungchan's eyes flutter shut in contentment, "If I had things my way, we'd be up on that altar beside Taro and Hana. How does a double wedding sound to you?"

You gasp and break out into laughter as you shove against his body, but he pulls you in tighter, "Shut up. You'd so be the type to propose at someone else's wedding."

He scoffs, as if offended, "Hell no. Do you wanna know how I'd do it?" you miss the way his voice wavers. His eyes are still closed and you're staring into his chest, "In a flower field or meadow, you in a pretty dress. Maybe we'd have a picnic, but it would be definitely be on a sunny day because you're extra happy when the sun is out. I'd set up a camera or something. Say I want to take pictures of us and there's no one else around. And when I succeed in distracting you, I would get down on one knee and you'd turn around and start crying, probably. And you'd love the ring too."

Your voice drops to barely a whisper, "Seems like you've thought about it a lot."

"You were the only person I could have ever imagined spending my life with. And I didn't want to spend any time apart from you," Sungchan admits, "When I bought the ring after saving my first few pays, I got scared and I pulled away. I had no idea it would drive you away in the end. I'm sorry for that."

Your heart stops, "The ring?"

He lets out this heavy sigh as he turns around and reaches over to pull his nightstand drawer open. He digs around into the depths of it and pulls out a box. It looks tiny in the palm of his hands and he presents it to you with his big brown eyes suddenly tearing up. He's doing that thing where he's nibbling on his lips and looking up and away to stop the tears falling.

"I don't want you to feel guilty or sorry. I just need you to know everything before we can start again," he mumbles, "If you want to open it, you can. Of if you don't, you don't have to."

For the countless time since the day started, you're crying again. You're in his arms, again.

"Sungchan," you cry out, "You were going to propose?"

"I wanted forever with you," he coo's sweetly, brushing the hair out of your face to plant kisses on your cheeks, "I still do."

You take the box from his hold and open it slowly, breath hitched. He's right- you love it so much that your stomach twists into itself. You had always wondered what ring would call to your heart- you didn't think you could describe it if someone asked, but Sungchan had known then, even without asking.

"It's a bit dusty now. I haven't looked at it in a while," Sungchan giggles.

Your heart is beating fast, almost out of your chest as you eye the metal and the precious stone. It's even better than any ring you saw in that jewellery store with him. You can feel his eyes locked on you as you take the ring out from its plush cushion and inspect it close up.

The room is only lit with a dim lamp, but the stone sparkles in the dark anyway. You can see something engraved inside the band, but your hands can't stop shaking long enough to read it. Sungchan's looking at you and he looks nearly exactly the same as he did 4 years ago in this very spot.

"Do you like it?" he asks quietly, "I picked it out by myself."

You don't say another word as you toss the box beside you and slip the ring effortlessly on the finger it was intended to rest on. Sungchan opens his mouth but you catch the gasp with your kiss as you smash your lips against his. He makes this strangulated noise as his fingers dig in to the side of your hips to pull you over him and his tongue slips into your mouth.

You kiss fervently, ferociously, having been devoid of his taste for more days than you wish would have passed. The cold metal of the ring digs into the side of his cheek, but Sungchan has never known more bliss than this.

"You can't take it back," Sungchan pants against your lips as he captured them again in a hot kiss. His hands slide up your bare flanks under the loose shirt and you detach from his mouth just to be able to gnaw at the side of his neck in that one spot you remember he loves.

His sweet mouth curses into the still air, "Fuck, Y/N."

"I love you," you murmur into his neck as his hands run wild, "I always will."

Sungchan places a hand over yours, the stone now digging into his palms. It's worth it, he tells himself now. You're here, he tells himself.

"I love you. It'll only ever be you."

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

vii. i'm always, forever, runnin' back to you

The city is too polluted for you to ever feel like you're taking in a breath of fresh air. You should probably hold your breath, even.

Though the sky is teetering on the border of blue and grey, the sun still peeks through the clouds and greets you with a diffuse, warm light. You're humming to yourself as you walk down the street, head up to avoid walking into anyone. There's no music in your ears because you want to appreciate the rare sunny days that look like they'll be pulled from under you at any minute.

Your surroundings are familiar, having walked them nearly daily for the past few years, but when it comes to a crossing, you turn left today and instead of right. It's a diversion you take on special occasions- a diversion that takes you to your favourite café in the entire city. They serve the best cakes and pastries that are the cherry on top to anything you have to celebrate. Sometimes it's a promotion, sometimes a birthday and other times just a hard day that you didn't think you would make it out the other side of.

Before it comes into view, your phone rings.

"Hello?"

"Hey," your best friend's voice rings out through the speaker, "You finished work?"

"Mhm, I'm walking to that café I took you to now," you tell her, "What are you doing up? It must be, what? 2 or 3 in the morning there?"

"Late night at the office anyway with this huge case. I just got home," she sighs and you can finally hear the exhaustion in her voice, "But I also couldn't miss this. I'm proud of you."

"It's kind of a bittersweet feeling," you hum thoughtfully, "Thank you for calling, Han. But get yourself to sleep now."

"Are you at the café now?"

You nod before you realise she can't see you so you affirm verbally as the shop front enters your field of vision. You're met with a surprise that causes a smile to spread on your face.

"Yeah, just got here. I'll talk to you and Taro soon, okay?" you coo at your best friend who bids you farewell before you hang up the phone.

There's a tall figure leaning against the brick wall beside the shop entrance. He's got his hands in both pockets and he's watching your every step with an impatient, but fond stare.

"You said you weren't here yet!"

"Took your time, hm?" his voice is the closest thing that feels like home now until you walk straight into him and wrap your arms around his torso, "Surprise!"

"It's my last time doing that walk," your own voice muffles against his black shirt.

"How was your last day of work?" Sungchan strokes your hair gently as you bury yourself closer.

"I cried a bit saying goodbye to my co-workers," you admit, "But I know this is the right choice. I didn't even mean to stay here this long."

Sungchan hums from above, "Thank you for choosing this, though."

You look around the street you find yourself on in this area of London, knowing it's the last time you'll be here for a long time until you decide to come back and visit.

"Home has always been where you are," you pull away from him to intertwine your hands, "I miss Seoul and everyone there. London has taught me so much, but mostly that I can't live without you. These past 5 months were horrific too."

"Well, we're on the other side now," Sungchan leads you into your favourite café, the one you showed him when he first visited London 5 months ago just a few weeks after your friends' wedding.

You recommend things to order and end up with a generous spread on the table. Sungchan watches with a loving gaze as you arrange the plates to form an aesthetic birds eye view and you snap away with your phone camera.

You handed in your notice as soon as you got back from the wedding, but you had to wait to wrap up the big project that you had just started back then. Sungchan flew to London three weeks after the wedding on a whim and you had spent those two weeks he could work remotely playing house in your apartment in the evenings and showing him around the UK on the weekends. Then, you were apart for 5 months as he saved up his holiday time at his work and you were only connected via late night and early morning video calls to satisfy the itch of being together.

It wasn't always easy, of course. There were some weeks that you were able to spend more time with each other than others and it got frustrating at times, but you always managed to put it back into perspective that it wasn't long until you were reunited again without a looming flight to take you away.

He arrived in London a few days ago, helping to pack up your place while you were tying the last few loose ends at your job. It always felt nice coming back home to him at the end of the day and going back to Seoul feels like such a relief knowing you're going to come back home to him again every day for hopefully the rest of your life.

You and Sungchan share each dish, savouring your last bites for the foreseeable future. He takes photos of you when he thinks you're not looking and you kick against his feet casually. It feels like you're still in your honeymoon phase, even though you should be celebrating 10 years of your relationship this year. To be fair, it's only been 6 months since you've rekindled, but your love still burns bright like it was never encased into a small flicker.

He holds your hand the entire walk home, brushing his thumb on your skin as he talks your ear off about everything and nothing in the world. Being by his side brings you this peace and comfort that you didn't even realise you were lacking, as if your body has just been running on auto-pilot the past few years without him, surviving only long enough until you were finally reunited again.

"Hana's gonna be so excited too," Sungchan exhales, an air of anticipation in his voice.

One thing about you and Hana- you could keep secrets for the benefit of the other. She knew how shocked you'd be when she turned up at your door in London over a year ago with that ring. You decided to turn the table on your best friend, waiting the 6 months until you got back in Seoul to tell her about the ring that was sitting on the ring finger of your hand.

Even your parents don't know yet, wanting to wait until you could tell them in person. In a perfect world, Sungchan would have liked to ask your parents for your hand in marriage beforehand, but considering how excited they were to see you two holding hands and slow-dancing together at the wedding, neither of you think either set of parents would care.

Your mother has been begging for Sungchan to come and visit the house while you've been in London, claiming she was due a catch up with him, but you begged her to relax until you were back in the city.

"We'll have so much to do when we get back to Seoul," you hum along, "Hana and Taro seemed kinda stressed doing all of it too."

"But now they've experienced it, they can help us," Sungchan shrugs and goes quiet for a second before he starts kind of giggling.

Though it makes your heart burst at his adorable nature, you look at him quizzically, "What?"

"We're getting married," he continues that cute noise as he squeezes your hand in a pulsatile manner, "I'm getting married to the love of my life."

You roll your eyes playfully but your cheeks are turning pink as joy blooms in the depths of your bones, "Yeah, yeah, and lucky you, you didn't even have to organise a proposal."

Sungchan gasps and he splats your still-entwined hands over his heart like he was just shot, "Y/N," he whines, "I told you I would organise one! You don't know how much I want to properly propose to you."

You chuckle at him softly and nudge his side, "I'm just playing. You know that our moment was perfect. It was so very us."

"Don't worry, baby. I'm gonna plan the most perfect wedding for us too," he smiles down at you.

"What did I do to deserve such a sweetheart like you?" you press a kiss into the back of his hand as the two of you enter the tube station together.

You know he hates it whenever you talk about feeling guilty for the past or not being enough for him. You've been working through your feelings over these months, trying to be more open while he does his best to reassure you. But Sungchan gives you this look, just perfectly content in this moment, "I'm just for you, and you're just for me. It'll always be that way. Now let's go home."

a/n: thank you thank you thank you for reading. find my masterlist here & all likes, comments, reblogs and feedback are so, so appreciated <3

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fanged-fanfics · 3 months ago

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Maybe for a part 2 of the doughbaby!reader, Shadow milk sneaks into their room at night to hangout with them, only to leave before pure vanilla walks in.

☆ Shadows On The Walls — Shadow Milk Cookie & Child!Reader Fic ☆

Genre: Platonic, Mild Angst || they/them pronouns for reader || Manipulative Shadow Milk warning

A/N: Okay technically this is actually part 3- (previous and start fics for context)

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

It was the night after your slightly discouraging art display, and you'd fallen asleep at your mini desk. The air was cool, with a slight wind blowing outside. You felt something shift, as if a weight had entered the air. Your eyes slowly blinked open, and you rubbed them with a yawn while hearing papers rustle. When your vision came in, a large shadow was standing beside your desk. Two shades of blue eyes looked down at you, and you gasped happily while sitting up "Shadow Cookie!"

"Thaaat's right!" The shadow replies, leaning forwards so he could come into view. Shadow Milk had been visiting for months now, and he noted as he saw the scattered pictures across your desk that it seemed his efforts were sucessful. He grinned widely, looking over your art in his hands "Did you make this, little puppet? I see a certain rougish devil made his appearance!". You giggled, reaching up as best you could to point to it "Yeah, yeah! But papa didn't seem to like it too much...". Your frown returned, and Shadow Milk gave a huge gasp "He didn't?! Well, the nerve! He must be blinder than I thought!". Your smile returned as you looked up at your 'imaginary' friend "Papa's just worried sometimes. But s'good that you like it!"

"Like it?! Why, little puppet, I love it! I'd hang this up in my spire" Shadow Milk declared, holding the drawing close to his chest. You got down from your chair, running over to him and grabbing his legs for a tight hug. Shadow Milk chuckled, placing a hand atop your head. "That papa of yours isn't very kind, is he?" Shadow Milk commented "How strange for a Cookie of truth to lie to his own kin!". "Lie?" You asked, pulling back with a confused expression "What do you mean?". "Oh, don't worry your poor little dough over it" Shadow Milk cooed, lifting you under your arms. He floated off of the ground, carrying you up before holding you tight to his chest.

"But- papa isn't supposed to lie" you frowned. "I know, but papa's don't always do as they're supposed to" Shadow Milk responded, a fake look of sympathy on his face. He pulled you in, nuzzling his cheek to yours "I'd never lie to you, you poor thing. We're good friends, right?". As he asked that last part, his grip on you tightened a little. You gave a nod "Yeah! Bestest friends!". Shadow Milk grinned widely, sharp teeth showing as he held you up above his head while he spun mid-air "That's right! Best as can be! And best friends always tell the truth"

You giggled at the motion, pulling yourself into his arms for a tight hug. It was refreshing to have a friend you could play with at all times, a silly jester who loves making you smile. You pulled back, chuckling with him before a knock came from your door. "Little sunflower? Are you awake" Pure Vanilla's voice called. Shadow Milk quickly placed you back down "That's my cue to exit the stage". You gave a little whine, tugging on the jester's sleeve "Do you have to?". "You know the rules" Shadow Milk replied. He watched as your head titled down, a sad pout on your face. He couldn't help but grin.

"Well, I was going to wait for a special occasion, but I suppose I can give you this now" Shadow Milk said, pulling something out. He handed you a small doll fashioned to look just like him, with big button eyes and a stitched smile. You squealed, holding it close to your chest "Thank you, Shadow Cookie! You're the best!"

"Sunflower? Who are you talking to?" Pure Vanilla called. Shadow Milk scowled, replacing it with a faux look of kindness as he leaned down to speak with you "I'll be back soon, don't worry" he said, before vanishing into the shadows. You felt your smile fall as you nuzzled into the doll he'd given you. You loved your papa, but it was disappointing how your friend always had to leave when he came by. And he said such odd things... what lies could he be talking about?

The door opened, Pure Vanilla hurriedly walking in. He waved his staff about a bit, hair a mess and breathing heavily. You walked up behind him, tugging on his robes. "Papa?" You asked, and the healer turned to you. He sighed with relief, kneeling down and wrapping an arm around you "What are you doing up so late? I thought someone had found you...". "I was jus' drawing, an' I fell asleep" you explained. Pure Vanilla pulled back, kissing your forehead "Of course, how silly of me. My little artist must have been hard at work". He lifted you up, balancing you in his arms "Come now, it's time for bed"

You let out a yawn, nuzzling into his chest. Soon enough, you were tucked into bed, Pure Vanilla making sure you were snugly covered in blankets. He'd noticed a flicker of something blue being closely squeezed in your arms. He tried to reach a hand out, but you'd turned away from him before he could see. "G'night, papa" you said. Pure Vanilla pulled back, that worried expression back on his face. "...Good night, my bluebird" he said, a little quietly.

He closed the door to your room upon exiting, that troubled expression now fully showing on his face. He could feel that presence. He kept having to look over his shoulders around the shadowy corners of his castle, fear gripping him tightly. Every inch of the hollow nooks felt like they were watching him. Waiting. Laughing.

"Elder Faerie will be here tomorrow... please, please, by all that is good, don't let my fears come true" Pure Vanilla thought to himself "You can have my kingdom, my title, my souljam.. just please.. don't take my little bluebird away from me". He began walking to his room, worriedly holding the handle of his staff. Daunting eyes watched him as he walked. "Oh, Silly Vanilly..." a voice whispered eerily in the darkness "Fighting so hard to protect his little family... pathetic". Shadow Milk morphed into the darkness, beginning his usual escape route back to the outside. Black Sapphire and Candy Apple stood in the royal garden, waiting for him.

"Count this night a success, my delightful little grubs" Shadow Milk said as he materialized. Candy Apple squealed "I knew it, I knew it! You're so strong, my lord!". Black Sapphire gave a little bow "All is in motion, just as requested". Shadow Milk grinned widely, a high giggle leaving him "Perfect, perfect! I can't wait to see their faces when it happens!". "Until then," Black Sapphire began, hopping up on his staff to float off of the ground "We have time left to plan". "Pssh, as if I need a plan" Shadow Milk said, beginning to walk away from the castle "Have faith, my minions. This isn't even the half of what's to come"

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juliettejwnewinesa · 19 days ago

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Can you do a Seongje fic about prioties. Established relationship, but he doesn't prioritize the reader as much as he prioritizes the Union. He's always late or missing things and her breaking point comes when he misses another date where she was waiting outside for hours. He comes home after another fight, still not remembering the date HE promised and she just loses it. Like, this soft spoken gf gets so pissed even Seongje doesn't even know what to say, especially when she tells him she feels single in the relationship. She kicks him out and he realizes how much of a jerk he's been when he tries to think of any time they've gone out and then you can think of how he can try make it up to her

I really love your stories and the way you write. Also, have you considered creating a masterlist? I think you should create one so it's easier to find your writings (just a suggestion)🫶

Title: "Second Place" Pairing: Seongje x Reader Genre: Angst | Hurt/Comfort | Established Relationship Warnings: Emotional neglect, hurtful arguments, crying, swearing (mild), eventual reconciliation

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

You always told yourself you could handle it.

Dating someone like Seongje — a man who had the weight of the Union on his back, who carried loyalty like a second skin — meant understanding he’d always be a little… distracted. You weren’t naïve. You knew what you signed up for.

But you didn’t sign up to feel like an afterthought.

Not after months of missed dinners. Half-hearted texts. Cancelled dates. Cold food waiting on the table only to be wrapped back up and shoved into the fridge. You understood emergencies — you did. But Seongje didn’t even try anymore.

And tonight… tonight was supposed to be different.

It was the anniversary of the first time he asked you out. A tiny, quiet day, maybe not important to most — but you were sentimental, and he used to be too. He promised this time. "I'll be there. I swear."

You believed him.

So you stood outside the café, wearing the coat he liked, holding the small homemade gift you’d spent hours on — a sketchbook with dumb little doodles of your memories together. You waited in the fading light, your fingers numbing with the cold.

One hour.

Two.

Three.

You stayed even after the café turned off its sign. Watching couples pass by, laughing, touching, living lives that didn’t involve waiting on someone who’d forgotten them.

Eventually, you stopped feeling disappointed. It turned into something colder. Something hollow.

You went home alone.

The door creaked open at midnight. Seongje walked in like he always did — tired, annoyed, muttering something under his breath about another brawl. He tossed his jacket onto the back of the couch and didn’t notice the cold plate on the counter or the dimmed lights or the empty wine glass sitting opposite yours.

He didn’t notice you sitting silently on the armchair, staring at him.

Not until you spoke.

"You forgot again."

He blinked. Paused. "What?"

"Our date."

A beat. Then a shrug. "Shit, I was busy, you know how it is. Things with the Union are—"

"More important," you said flatly. "Always more important."

He finally looked at you. Really looked. Your eyes were red, makeup smudged, your voice shaking even though you were trying so hard to stay calm.

"You’re blowing this out of proportion."

Wrong answer.

You stood up so fast the chair scraped backward. "Out of proportion? I waited outside for three fucking hours, Seongje. THREE. HOURS. In the cold. Like a goddamn idiot!"

He flinched. You rarely raised your voice.

"Why didn’t you call?" you demanded. "Why didn’t you text? You made the plan! You picked the time! You told me you’d be there!"

He rubbed the back of his neck, already looking guilty. "I forgot, okay? I was—"

"Exactly." Your voice cracked. "You forgot. You always forget."

Silence. He opened his mouth, closed it again.

You stepped closer, and this time your voice was quiet, but razor sharp.

"I feel single in this relationship, Seongje."

That landed like a slap.

"I cook for no one. I talk to walls. I show up to things you promise to be at, and I end up sitting alone like I’m some delusional girl chasing after a guy who’s not even interested."

His face twisted. "That’s not fair."

"Isn’t it?" you whispered. "Because tell me the last time we went out. The last time we talked about anything that wasn’t the Union. Tell me the last time I came first in your day."

He hesitated.

"You can’t, can you?"

He couldn’t.

You backed up toward the door, grabbing his coat from the hook.

"You need to leave."

He stared at you like you’d slapped him. "Wait, what?"

"Go sleep at one of your Union friends' places. You obviously care more about them than me anyway."

"You don’t mean that."

You threw the coat at his chest. "I do. Because I’ve been patient, and understanding, and supportive, and all I ever get in return is cold dinners and broken promises. I don’t even remember what it’s like to be someone’s priority anymore."

Seongje didn’t move. Didn’t say anything.

He just looked… stunned.

You turned your back before he could see the tears fall again.

"Please. Just go."

And for once — he listened.

The next day.

The silence in the apartment was too loud. No clattering pans. No soft hum of your voice in the other room. Just emptiness.

Seongje sat in a shitty motel lobby at 3 a.m. staring at the wall, running his hands through his hair.

The worst part wasn’t the fight.

It was realizing you were right.

He tried to remember the last time you two went out. A real date. A moment where he looked at you without checking his phone every five minutes or being interrupted by a Union call. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d complimented you.

Everything had become routine. Wake up. Kiss your forehead. Go fight. Come home. Eat cold food. Fall asleep. Repeat.

He’d taken you for granted.

You’d always been there. Always soft, patient, smiling even when he barely gave you scraps of his attention. He thought you'd always be there.

Until you weren’t.

He stared at his phone. No new messages.

His thumb hovered over your contact.

But he didn’t call.

Not yet.

Two days later.

Your apartment stayed quiet. Clean. Undisturbed.

You cried the first night, then went numb the next.

You missed him. God, you did.

But you weren’t going to be the only one fighting for this anymore.

If he wanted you — really wanted you — he had to show it.

One week later.

You opened your door to a strange smell — something warm. Buttery. Sweet.

On your counter sat a paper bag. Still warm. Inside: pastries from your favorite bakery — the one two districts over. The one he’d always grumbled about being “too far.”

A note rested on top.

“Didn’t forget this time.” —S

You stared at it.

The next day, flowers appeared. Then your favorite book — annotated with his handwriting in the margins.

The day after that: a flash drive. With a slideshow.

Each photo labeled. "First smile." "First trip." "First time I realized I was in love with you."

Your vision blurred.

The last image was a selfie — Seongje, holding a whiteboard.

“I want a second chance. Tell me when and where — I’ll be there first.”

Two nights later.

You agreed to meet him.

A quiet restaurant. Nothing flashy. You walked in 5 minutes early — expecting to wait.

But he was already there.

Hair styled. Dressed in that jacket you liked. Sitting up straight, nervous fingers drumming on the table.

He stood the second he saw you.

You sat down without a word. Let him speak first.

"I was wrong," he said. No excuses. No deflection. Just… guilt. "I forgot what it means to be someone’s boyfriend. I thought just being around was enough, but I wasn’t with you. Not really."

You said nothing.

"I kept choosing the Union over you because I thought I had time. I thought you'd always be there waiting. I didn't realize I was already losing you piece by piece."

Still, you didn’t speak.

"I want to fix this. I don’t just want to say sorry — I want to show you. I set every reminder. I cleared my weekend schedule. I even told the Union I’d take a step back."

That made you blink. "You… what?"

He nodded. "They didn’t like it. But I told them I have something more important."

Silence. Then—

"I don’t want to feel single anymore either," he added quietly. "I want to feel like I have you. And I want you to feel like you have me. Fully. No more ‘second place.’"

Your throat tightened.

"One date," he said. "One night where it’s just us. No distractions. No phone. Just you and me. And if I screw it up — I’ll never bother you again."

You looked at him.

For the first time in weeks — he looked like your Seongje again.

"...Okay."

And when you said that, the smile he gave you was small. Shy. Hopeful.

Like someone who finally realized what he almost lost.

And was ready to earn it back.

author's note: i tried doing a masterlist not that long ago but i stopped updating it i will start doing it again dont worry:)

275 notes · View notes

sugar-write · 1 month ago

Text

Heart-eyes (LN4)

Lando Norris x rocker!fem!reader

type : smau (fc : random girls from aesthetic on Pinterest)

summary : Lando Norris and his rocker childhood friends interaction are the favorite of the fans, they love their best friends dynamic and how different their life are. but when people start shipping her with her bandmate, the world is about to learn what's really behind their 'best friends' title.

note : Ikare and Astrid are your bandmates

adv : nothing really, maybe swearing, pictures with cigarettes and alcohol, English isn't my first language so sorry for the mistakes. it's my first smau plz be nice

part 2???

its.yn.bitch

liked by Lando, fallingIkare, AstrId and others

back in the city for some fun with the gang (yeah it's Ikare and I in the hoodie)

view comments

Lando I'm not part of the gang... I feel betrayed

its.yn.bitch ur like on the other side of the world

Lando so what

Lando distance is breaking us down now

its.yn.bitch you're such a drama queen

Lando but you love me

its.yn.bitch unfortunately I do Heart-eyes

user4 new music when?

user6 to be friends with people like they are...

Lando can you teach me skateboarding?

user22 day 386 of Lando asking for skateboard lessons and getting left on red by yn

user5 give us new music bandname ✊✊

fallingIkare chaos is our second nature 👆

its.yn.bitch always and forever 👆

AstrId always and forever 👆

user2 why do she always calls Lando Heart-eyes

user1 they're childhood best friends and when she saw him watch a Karting race she thought he had heart eyes and it stayed

user8 it's when he looks at her that he have heart eyes

user10 plz they're like best friends forever

user3 yeah stop shipping people

user15 manifesting for a new song

user11 she's like very close to Ikare

user24 I was thinking the same, they're always together

user9 yeah because they're bandmates and friends

user13 you guys need to go to therapy people can be just friends

Lando posted a story

view replies

its.yn.bitch you should be grateful to have me in your life

Lando I am I am but I'll still call you loser

its.yn.bitch fuck off you fell to

Lando but you fall first

its.yn.bitch you're like a trained athelt

its.yn.bitch I can't win a pump match!

fallingIkare idk what you did but she came back angry

Lando she just don't like losing

fallingIkare what was the dare

Lando pump and she's good

Lando I only made two more

fallingIkare yeah she do pump on stage before show she says it helps with stress

Lando such a weirdo

user32 it's giving chaotic date vibes

user17 I love how you have two lives, like F1 and making date night eating on skateboard at night in some street

user26 when is it my turnnnn

user32 why do you always post her in story and never in post

its.yn.bitch

liked by Lando, fallingIkare, AstrId and others

chaotic you said?

view comments

user37 wait that's a MAN

user25 red alert, who is that guy

user14 which one? Ikare or Lando

user1 for fuck sakes they're friends

user34 come on man respect them!

user38 guitare ? new music ?

fallingIkare you just set the world on fire

its.yn.bitch :) :)

AstrId no need Ikare she's just proud of herself

user36 omg they're so much things to analyze in that post

user34 even in these interaction

user19 she woke up and choose violence

its.yn.bitch posted a story

view replies

Lando I thought you stopped cigarette

its.yn.bitch i did

its.yn.bitch don't worry not gonna start again

Lando great

Lando I hate the smell

its.yn.bitch I know heart eyes I know

fallingIkare makes us sound like junky

its.yn.bitch I thought it was poetic

fallingIkare it's not

fallingIkare sorry to break your little dream

its.yn.bitch you suck so bad

fallingIkare ouch

AstrId photo creds ?

its.yn.bitch thanks babe <3

user16 what do you mean high?

user35 are you two dating?

user38 you're just playing with us

meanwhile on Twitter~~~

meanwhile on yn's phone~~~

its.yn.bitch

liked by Lando, fallingIkare, AstrId and others

time to go back to work

view comments

user17 omgggg new musics

user29 she's in the studio!!

user8 using music to get our attention out of the man

user3 we see you yn

its.yn.bitch oupsiii

user09 she's so unserious

user22 I can't wait to listen to it

Lando I'm hyped

user45 bro you probably already knew

user31 honestly even knowing before everyone I would be hyped

user37 yeah like, it's bandname new song

user43 Ikare x yn dating comfirmation?

user39 I'm so ready for this frr

user14 omg would this be about Ikare??

user42 I can't wait

its.yn.bitch

liked by Lando, fallingIkare, AstrId and others

happy birthday bb <3 <3

(ps : Heart-eyes, solo song available everywhere, make sure to give it a chance)

comments had been limited on this post

fallingIkare when you said it was freaky I didn't though it like that

Lando oh my god

Lando thanks

Lando I mean I love you too

Lando god I miss you even more now

Lando wanna make up?

its.yn.bitch omw heart eyes

AstrId so this was your master plan

its.yn.bitch it worked no one thinks I'm dating Ikare anymore

fallingIkare thanks god they stopped, it's already too hard to be your friend

its.yn.bitch 🖕🖕fuck off

its.yn.bitch I don't accept negativity on this beautiful festive day

AstrId nurse they're out again

—————————–————

thanks for reading

I hope you like it I loved making smau so maybe I'll do a part 2 or another story tell me

Anyway have a good day take care of yourself

#lando norris #lando x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 smau #lando norris smau #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 x y/n #smau

217 notes · View notes

lvnacore · 5 months ago

Text

Want you so bad

- Separate stray kids x fem idol reader | Hyung line maknae line coming soon (I got sick so I don’t have motivation at the moment. Also sorry that it’s short😔)

-`♡´- In which your group has a comeback on you and your boyfriend’s anniversary. The title song is a song you wrote and produced for him as an anniversary gift.

Warnings?: just fluff and hyunjin being a drama queen lol

BANG CHAN “you stole my heart, I need your love”

When he finds out, he's literally all smiles and giggles

Let's pretend he still does chan’s room. He'll literally play the song every time he's live saying that it's his favorite song

Everytime he's feeling insecure about himself or stressed he'll play the demo version of the song (the one with only your voice). It makes him feel better at night

If you are promoting at the same time, he makes sure he watches ur performance on the tv in their waiting room. Always smiling when you appear on screen

Will literally not shut up about it. He’s a very proud boyfriend

He plans on doing the same next year. Already having a folder full of songs about you in his laptop

“Baby this is the best gift I could ask for. Thank you so much”

MINHO “Gotta get my love tattoed over your heart”

When he found out he couldn’t help but smile like a little kid

Makes sure to watch the music video with his cats

“Soonie, Doongie, Dori isn’t your mom such a cutie”

I am a firm believer that he will learn the full choreography so you guys can dance to it together. Maybe even create a different choreography just for the two of you

Will listen to it everyday before practice, rehearsal, and preforming. It gives him motivation

If you are performing the song at an award show and stray kids are there, he tries to keep his serious face on, but when your part comes on he can’t help but smile. (stays definitely caught it on camera)

“Your that in love with me huh?” He would say this with the smuggest face

CHANGBIN “Keep me by your side and I’ll never go away”

You already know he’s gonna ask to do the dance challenge with you

The happiest boyfriend in the world

When he goes to the gym he’ll listen to it on repeat

Like Chan, he has a whole folder of songs about you on his laptop that he plans to gift you later in the future

When you guys are alone away from the public view, he will literally not let you go. Gives you his famous hugs and thanks you for the song, saying how much he loves it and how much he loves you

He makes sure to watch all the music show performances and sends you messages of how well you did and how pretty you look

“Thank you baby, and I love the song so much, and I love you”

HYUNJIN “I know you'll treat me like a baby but I don’t mind. I'll be your baby”

Omg don’t get me started. When he finds out he’s so dramatic about it

Literally crying while watching the music video, commenting about how beautiful you look and how proud he is

He’ll give you so much kisses it’s insane

If your relationship is public he will spam all about it on bubble to the point where stays tease him about it

Like Minho, he’ll learn the choreography so he can dance with you

I feel like he’ll try to go watch your performances live in person when he has a free schedule. Cheering you on back stage on the sidelines

When he’s painting he’ll put the song in the background to give him inspiration when you’re not there with him

“Angel this is the best gift ever, I can finally die happy now”

329 notes · View notes

suliigwp · 10 days ago

Text

Ended In An Ippon!

Oscar Piastri x Judoka!Reader | SMAU+written

Face Claim: Uta Abe(my goat)

SULI: literally obsessed I came up with this after crying for hours after uta won her fifth world championship — I wish I was put in judo when I was a kid, I wish — the limit of 10 pictures on a post is so shit come on tumblr— also I highly recommend getting into judo it's amazing trust me and go support uta she's the sweetest

I'll say it right here I want to write a part two about winning the fifth world title😝

SUMMERY: the internet slowly unraveling the relationship between two A list Athletes

Warnings: talks of disappointing a parent it's fine though

Liked by voguesports, yn_yln, hattiepiastri and 5.7M others.

vogue: Happy Birthday @/yn_yln! What better way to celebrate than remembering partnering with vouge for the first time after winning her first world tite! See the interview here...

Comments.

grapplingqueenx: the definition of strong, stunning, and silent. ICON.

throwhergold: happy birthday to the most terrifyingly elegant woman alive 🥹🎂

gridgirldiaries: wait why did Hattie Piastri like this 😭😭

->piastrified: maybe she’s just a fan?? y/n is kind of a legend

fanoflegends: world champ, Vogue muse, birthday girl??? she’s booked and blessed fr

helmetgirliexoxo: imagine being so iconic you win a world title and shoot with vogue in the same month. I’d simply pass out.

wheelsexplicit: guys please don’t start again 💀 not every like means someone’s dating her

->softoscarfiles: okay but didn’t Oscar follow her the day she won?

combatbutmakeitcouture: ICON

blackbeltbarbie: that Vogue shoot changed lives. mine specifically.

sweetsubmissions: remember when she smiled during the post-fight interview and the world stopped turning. yeah.

See all comments.

...

Liked by nicole_piastri, judoworldgallery, hifumi_abe and 1.5M others.

yn_yln: So exited and honoured to be at the Olympics. Giving it my all

comments.

judoworldgallery: Been watching you since juniors — go make history 🥇🏆 ♥️ Liked by author

nicole_piastri: Wishing you all the best!! 💛💛 cheering you on from home 🫶 ♥️ Liked by author

->oscahuh: HELLO?!!?!!

grapplequeen_21: LET’S GOOOOO THE REAL MAIN EVENT 🔥🇯🇵

softoscarfiles: not Nicole Piastri liking this post and commenting 🤨 do with that what you will

f1wagspec: she’s got the Piastris in her likes??? guys. guys.

hifumi_abe: Ganbatte! 🥋💪 rootin’ for you 👊

♥️ Liked by author

->yn_yln: go get that gold!

mattechoked: all this AND a Vogue feature? she’s booked and winning.

throwersanonymous: gold medal + soft launch same week would actually kill me i fear

...

Liked by mclaren, georgerussell63, yn_yln and 2.4M others.

oscarpiastri: great weekend. Proud of the team and for someone else too but that's for later.

comments.

goldmedalrizz: YOU'RE NOT SLICK

softpiastri: y/n liked this. Y/N LIKED THIS. I REPEAT. 🚨

papayawives: be honest Hattie wrote that caption

throwinggoldmedals: no bc she’s literally at the Olympics and still has time to like his post 😭

gridgirldetective: watch him post “great weekend” and she posts “great win” next and I’ll spiral

hattypiastriupdates: THIS IS BASICALLY CONFIRMING IT COME ON

mclarengfenergy: imagine winning a race and having a literal Olympian double tap your pic… life’s unfair

wagspeculations: I don’t wanna assume things but… I’ve already planned the wedding

...

Liked by ynstans, judoworlddomination, oscarapologist and 1.3M others.

judoworldnews: HEARTBREAK IN PARIS: Emotional scenes as judo star Yn Yln falls to her knees in front of her father after losing the Olympic gold — crying and asking for forgiveness.

The pressure of legacy? The weight of the nation? Whatever it was, this moment shook the arena.

Comments.

goldmedaltea: this BROKE me. like actually broke me.

judofangirl7: she deserved better. the pressure on her is insane omg 😭

goldmedaltea: this made me cry. she wanted that gold more than anything 😭

tracksidegossip: "asking for forgiveness"??? this wasn’t just a match for her… this ran deep

f1andmatburn: I know we’re all thinking it… where’s Oscar now??

papayavision: his mom liked her Olympics post last week. wonder if he’s gonna say anything now 👀

wagspecwatcher: she’s always been so private. but after this? I wouldn’t be surprised if she disappears again 😕

judowifetokyo: the silence is loud tbh. someone check on her.

...

Liked by ynstans, oscaaaaah, goldmedalts and 1M others.

f1teaandtokyo: EXCLUSIVE: Oscar Piastri spotted at Melbourne Airport earlier today, signing merch before boarding a private flight reportedly headed to Paris.

No official reason given — but the timing comes just hours after judo star @/yn_yln’s heartbreaking Olympic loss and emotional breakdown went viral.

Just a coincidence? Or something more?

👀 What do we think, tea lovers?

Comments.

softlaunchdetective: okay BUT… what if he’s actually going for her 🫢

papayaplotline: he didn’t post. he didn’t comment. and now he’s just… on a flight to Paris? HELLO?

mattechoked: he said “I don’t do public statements, I do grand gestures” 😭

judowagsources: can’t wait for them to pretend they just ran into each other in Paris 💀

f1rizzarchives: if he shows up ringside for her match i’m gonna combust.

goldmedalfinale: “just a coincidence” sure babes… we’ve been in the soft launch trenches too long for that 💅

...

PARIS

The room was quiet. Too quiet.

Y/N sat curled into the corner of the hotel bed, knees pulled to her chest, wrapped in the oversized white duvet like it could protect her from the outside world. The curtains were still drawn, throwing everything into a grey haze. The bedside clock blinked slowly: 11:47 AM.

She hadn’t slept.

Not really. She’d dozed in pieces, jolting awake to the memory of the match — the way her hand missed its grip, the way her body hit the mat, the way her father's face looked in the crowd. Disappointed. Or maybe just stunned. Her mind made it worse than it probably was, but that didn’t matter. It felt real.

The weight of the silver medal sat untouched on the desk. She hadn't even looked at it since last night. There was a bottle of water unopened on the side table. Her phone was face-down, on silent, buried under the pillow. Dozens of messages probably waiting. None of them from him — she wouldn’t know. She hadn’t checked. Couldn’t.

Then came a knock.

She flinched. Three soft taps, not the kind a hotel staffer would use.

She stayed still.

A pause.

Then another knock. Slightly firmer this time, and then —

“Y/N... it’s me.”

Her chest tightened instantly.

She wasn’t sure if she was hallucinating. Delirious. The room was too still, too heavy for him to be real. But she knew that voice. Even through a door.

She slowly uncurled herself from the bed, feet hitting the carpet. Her hoodie sleeves hung far past her hands, swallowing her up as she crossed the room in silence.

When she cracked the door open, just barely, she saw him.

Oscar stood in the hallway, cap pulled low, hoodie rumpled like he hadn’t even changed after the flight. A strap of his backpack was slung over his shoulder. His face looked tired — soft, careful, unsure.

He blinked. “Hi.”

Her throat was tight. Her fingers curled slightly on the edge of the door, holding it like she didn’t know if she should let go or close it.

“You came,” she whispered.

“I did.”

“I thought—”

“You didn’t answer. I figured I might not see you,” he said, quiet, voice low. “But I came anyway.”

There was a pause. A whole conversation exchanged in the silence that followed.

Then, slowly, she stepped aside.

Oscar walked in like the room wasn’t a battlefield. Like he didn’t see the discarded Team gear on the floor, the towels she’d cried into, the untouched food tray by the wall. He just walked to the center of the room and stopped, watching her as she closed the door behind him gently.

Neither of them spoke for a moment.

She didn’t look like herself. She looked smaller. Not broken, just dulled. Drenched in something invisible that Oscar wished he could carry for her.

“You didn’t have to come,” she said.

“I know,” he replied. “But I couldn’t sit across the world watching everyone talk about you like you weren’t a person.”

Her lip trembled. She bit down on it. Looked away.

“I should’ve won.”

“You gave everything,” he said.

“I failed.”

Oscar stepped closer. “You didn’t.”

“You weren’t there.”

“I saw it,” he said. “And I still know you didn’t.”

She shook her head, suddenly breathless. “I wasn’t enough. For my country. For my dad. For—” Her voice cracked. “For you.”

Oscar stepped in and wrapped his arms around her before she could pull back. And for the first time in hours—maybe days—her body softened into someone else's.

“I don’t need you to be perfect,” he murmured into her hair. “I just need you.”

Her arms came around him, fists clutching the back of his hoodie. She didn’t say anything at first. Her breathing was shaky, shallow, the kind that comes right before the tears finally come back.

“You don’t have to hold it together,” he whispered.

That did it.

She broke—silent and slow. Not sobbing, but clinging. The kind of crying you only do when someone sees you when you least want to be seen.

Oscar pulled her to the bed gently, never letting go. He sat beside her, letting her lean into him fully as she cried into the side of his chest. He didn’t speak. He didn’t rush her.

When the tears finally stopped, she lay there, eyes red, face pressed against the soft cotton of his hoodie, chest still rising and falling unevenly.

He stroked her back with slow, absent-minded motions. Like it was instinct. Like he'd memorized this rhythm for her.

“I don’t want to go online,” she mumbled, voice hoarse.

“Then don’t.”

“They’re all waiting for me to say something.”

“Let them wait.”

Another pause.

“You’ll get in trouble,” she whispered. “Being here. People will talk.”

“I don’t care.”

She closed her eyes. Something in her chest loosened.

Oscar pulled the duvet back over her without asking, laying it across both of them like a peace offering. He stayed seated next to her on top of the covers, hand still holding hers.

The world outside kept spinning.

But inside room 312, she finally slept.

...

7:42 AM

The first thing she felt was warmth.

Not the sharp, stifling kind that made you sweat in panic. A softer warmth — steady, alive, familiar. She stirred under the covers, blinking slowly as the soft sound of breathing reminded her she wasn’t alone.

Oscar was still there.

He sat slouched in the corner of the armchair near the bed, arms crossed, cap tilted back, mouth parted slightly in sleep. At some point, he must’ve tried staying awake and lost. His hoodie had slipped down one shoulder. Her water bottle was now half-empty beside him.

She pushed the covers back gently and sat up. The room still looked the same — quiet, heavy with that Olympic silence — but something inside her had shifted. Just slightly. The ache was still there, but it wasn’t hollow anymore.

Oscar stirred when he heard her move. His eyes opened instantly — alert, soft, worried. “Hey.”

She managed the smallest smile. “You stayed.”

He gave a sleepy half-shrug. “Didn’t want to miss you.”

“Weren’t you uncomfortable?” she asked, nodding to the tiny armchair.

“I’ve slept in worse.” He smiled faintly. “And I wasn’t gonna sleep in your bed without asking.”

Her cheeks flushed. “Thank you.”

They sat in silence for a beat. The world outside the window was beginning to wake — a car horn here, a dog barking faintly. Paris was alive again.

Oscar stretched a little, rubbing a hand down his face. Then, looking over at her gently, “My mum says hi, by the way.”

Y/N blinked. “Your mum?”

He nodded. “She was watching the match live. Texted me right after. Said to give you a hug if you’d let me.” He paused. “My sister too. They’ve… actually followed your career for a while.”

She looked down, trying not to let the tears come again. “They’re sweet.”

He smiled. “Yeah. They’re obsessed. My mum says she still gets goosebumps from your Tokyo gold match.” He leaned forward. “Also… your dad told me where you were staying.”

That made her look up.

“He… told you?” she whispered.

Oscar nodded. “I think he knew you wouldn’t tell me yourself. And I think he wanted to make sure you weren’t alone.”

Her eyes welled again, but she blinked it away. “He didn’t seem like he wanted to look at me.”

“He didn’t look at you like that.”

“You weren’t there.”

“I saw the footage. I saw a man who didn’t know how to hold his daughter when she was hurting on national television.”

She didn’t reply, but her eyes dropped to her lap, fingers tugging at a loose thread in the blanket.

Oscar stood up slowly, crossed to the bed, and knelt in front of her again — just like he had yesterday.

“I know this is gonna sound annoying,” he said gently, “but I’m not letting you stay in this room all day.”

She raised an eyebrow, weakly amused. “Oh yeah?”

“Yup. I’ve got coffee, croissants, and a list of places we’re going to see because you’ve been in Paris for days and haven’t done anything but punch people and break hearts.”

A small laugh escaped her. It was raw, caught in her throat — but real. “Oscar…”

“You’re getting dressed,” he said, with a mock sternness. “You’re putting on that ridiculous cap I know you always wear on travel days, and we’re going to have a ridiculously normal day.”

She raised an eyebrow. “People will see.”

He just shrugged. “Let them."

She blinked. “You don’t care?”

He reached up, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I care about you. I don’t care who sees it.”

That did it — her chest cracked open again, but in a different way this time. A lighter way.

“I don’t know if I can act normal yet,” she admitted.

“Then don’t. Be messy. Be quiet. Be grumpy. I’ll handle the Paris itinerary.”

She laughed — a real one this time. “You planned an itinerary?”

“I’m Australian, I organize chaos.”

He leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers. Not a kiss. Not yet. Just warmth. Presence.

“Get up, Y/N.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

...

Liked by nicole_piastri, oscaaaaah, yntans and 2.3M others.

f1afterdark: 🚨 EXCLUSIVE: Olympic judo golden girl Y/N Y/L/N spotted in Paris tonight getting cozy — and very kissy — with what looks suspiciously like a certain McLaren driver 👀

The two were seen laughing, sharing a kiss (yes, laughing while kissing, who even does that? 😭) outside a tucked-away wine bar in the Marais district.

Sources claim he arrived yesterday morning and has been staying with her since 👀

Paris really is the city of love.

Comments.

tracktales:not him LAUGHING while kissing her I’m gonna rip my pillow in half

goldmedalchaos: mamma Nicole in the likes

gridgirlie:the judo girl??? THE driver??? oh this is a romcom

mclarensockfan: NICOLE??!???!!

yourgfspov: he flew to her after the biggest loss of her career and now this???? he’s HIM

thursdaykissings: delete this i’m emotionally unstable

...

Liked by yn_yln, nicole_piastri, hattiepiastri and 3.5M others.

oscarpiastri: Figured it was time to clear the air before you all break into the Louvre looking for clues.

Yes, she’s mine.

No, this post isn’t PR-approved.

I watched her lose something she’s worked her whole life for last week — and still get up, still breathe, still be kind, still hold herself with more strength than most people ever will.

Four-time world champion, Olympic silver medalist, and the bravest person I know.

She doesn’t owe anyone anything, but if you’ve ever wondered how it feels to love a warrior — it’s like this.

That’s all. Please stop harassing my sister.

🥋🧡

Comments

yn_yln: my heart. my entire heart. shut up. thank you. now hand over the croissant you didn’t share

hattiepiastri: THANK YOU. I’M FREE. STOP MESSAGING ME.

lando: Just say you’re obsessed with her and go 🙄 (proud of you tho)

kevinmagnussen: This is the most romantic thing I've ever read and I’m married.

tracktoktrolls: he said “soft launch” in lowercase and then absolutely bodied us

f1afterdark: respectfully… we will continue speculating. for fun.

team[yourcountry]official: 🥋💙 We’re proud of her. Always.

mclaren: we approve it now. posted with tears in our eyes.

georgerussell63: Not me tearing up on a Monday morning. Congrats to you both.

charles_leclerc: Softest hard launch in history. Bravo, mate.

valtteribottas: A well-written statement. 10/10. Will be printing it out.

zhouguanyu24: Didn’t expect to cry today, but here we are. Strength recognizes strength.

yukitsunoda0511: Tell her I miss her and also I want snacks

hifumi_abe: We’ve both stood on that mat and felt the weight. She gave everything. That doesn’t disappear because of a color around her neck. So proud of you✊

->yn_yln: thank you friend❤️ proud of you on gold

fernandoalo_oficial: 👏👏👏 Champion heart. Both of you.

nyckdevries: Can I like this twice?

estebanocon: The last photo got me. She’s adorable and incredible.

carlossainz55: Congrats you two❤️

olympics: This trully ended in an Ippon!

Taglist, comment to be added; @angstynasty @cryinghotmess @mits-vi @dramaticpiratellamas @mimisweetz @mrssaturday @chiara8104 @moonlight-girls-posts @linnygirl09 @rue-t @danielricroll @the-vex-archives @trees-are-books @blodwyn4u @yoruse @ccrickett-t @l-a-u-r-aaa @multifans-things @woderfulkawaii @azrinableuet @mayax2o07 @everyday-is-sunday365 @devilacot @faithxyu

Make sure you can be tagged!

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irisluvsabby · 4 days ago

Text

cowboy!abby x victorian princess!reader pt. 1

cw: mostly fluff but i guess it gets a tiny bit heated towards the end, abby is kinda mean at some point, abby is older, reader is a spoiled princess.

you were the daughter of the really powerful man in england which has granted you the title of princess, however you were known to be really bratty and have a strong attitude. you wouldn't go to your reading class, would try to run away as soon as you dad arranged you another marriage with your cousin etc. overall you just hated the royal life and wanted to have some fun.

but for your dad you were just ungrateful and bratty, which was okay before you went off one night to go to a pub and some peasants saw you kissing another woman. that was the last straw for your dad who decided to send you to america, in a farm that was owned by a close friend of him, he knew that back there, you wouldn't cause anymore problems to the royal family.

so after three weeks of long and exhausting travelling, you finally arrived to the farm your father sent you to, and you weren't exactly happy about that. that as until you saw the woman who runs that farm. tall, blonde, big muscles rather masculine and older than you. that woman looked like she came out of one of your wet dreams and suddenly you were happy about your dad sending you here.

"name's abby and i run this farm, your dad sent ya here as a part of your punishment right?"

"oh yeah- i guess so.." you said, looking up at her.

"follow me i'll show you your room."

she then walked to the house without even offering to carry some of your many bags.

"um would you mind giving me a hand?" you asked her like she was stupid.

"come on you have like three bags and i'm sure you can handle yourself"

you huff, trying to gather your three bags in your hands, god she was lucky she was so hot because if not she would've been a pain. when she opens the door of your tiny room, you're met with a single bed with one pillow and a few covers, a desk and a small wardrobe. you looked at the place in defeat.

"is there anyway i can get at least a king sized?" you asked abby innocently, referring to the bed.

she then chuckled, walking away back to the kitchen. "this ain't england hun, you'll deal with what i give ya." she said not even turning around to look at you.

"ugh." you huffed before starting to put away your things in the small bedroom. but not even 10 minutes after that, abby was back at your door, "come here i'll show u what u want u to do around here everyday." she said as she watched you fold some pink and white clothes she knew damn well wouldn't stay that color. "and maybe we should buy you some other clothes because i'm not sure ya want to take those to the pigpen darling."

all of the nicknames she gave you made it impossible for you to act bratty with her, it was like she had some control on you. "i mean yeah? but i thought i would only give out hay and stuff like that?"

she laughed before setting you back down on earth "hell no, you're gonna have your feet in mud. come on we'll go in town to buy some useful clothes." you sighed before following outside. she then jumped on one of two horses that were standing outside. "oh we're going to town horse riding?" you asked her in disbelief. "do you not have a carriage?"

"do you not know how to ride a horse?" she asked sarcastically.

"okay okay.." you said before getting on the other horse.

the ride to town was like 10 minutes, which with abby were 10 minutes of pure silence, you tried to ask her a few questions and make small talk but oh well.

once in town she took you to a store, claiming that you'll probably find clothes to your liking in here. and you did, that cowboy style was kinda growing on you. you got boots, two or three pair of jeans, and cute flannel tops with ruffles, you also found a cute sundress which you had to try on. abby was waiting for you this whole time so you decided to ask her opinion on the dress you had tried on.

"hey abby look at that", you said to her, getting out of the dressing room to show her the dress, it's wasn't that short but it was an over the knees length which was new for you but you didn't hate it.

she walked towards the dressing room to take a good look at you. "oh that looks nice, be careful tho the men in town won't let you go if they see you like that." she said with a grin. you frowned to that, "oh i do not want the men to notice me don't worry."

she raised her eyebrows "oh yeah? well okay then, come on we gotta go back to the farm." she quickly said before turning back around letting you change back and pay for your items.

once back at the farm, you changed into some new jeans and another more comfortable top abby gave you because you still missed a few.

back down, abby told her to follow her as she was taking you to the pigpen, "okay ima need you to clean that place, i didn't have the time to and yeah it's rlly gross, there's buckets of water outside, good luck.", she said before going back to her horses.

"um excuse me? why are you making me clean that for my first task?? can't i.. i don't know check if the cows are okay and give them water? i don't want to do this ugh"

you start complaining and abby did not like that a single bit. "listen to me princess, your daddy sent you here for a reason, and i'm the one in charge here, you'll do as i say okay?" she says without stuttering and looking down into your eyes.

"and what if i don't want to?"

abby waited a few seconds to walk back towards you, looking at you up and down, wondering how was she going to put her words right for you to understand.

"oh the princess doesn't want to do what she came here for? okay maybe you're not gonna want to eat tonight or maybe you're not gonna want to clean yourself after the day? because i'm the one who pays for that shit i can decide wether you're gonna use them or not, got it?"

abby genuinely seemed pissed off, like she definitely wouldn't take no for an answer, after all she only did a favor to your dad, taking you with her, so she didn't have to be patient with you, it wasn't her part of the deal.

"okay then.." you said in defeat, looking down at the floor.

"good. there's a rake, bucks of water and you can put what needs to be thrown away behind the pigpen." she told, not leaving room for protests as she finally went back to take care of her horses.

the next two hours was like hell for you. you never knew a pigpen could be that dirty, and that pigs would get in the way so much, but you could say you did good work, and you were proud of yourself.

you finally decided to go back to abby, telling her you finished taking care of the pigpen. and all she had to say was "took you long enough". you couldn't help yourself but feel a bit hurt as you did your best, but when she saw how the place was clean and you did great she told you to go back inside, get clean and get ready for dinner.

a few days had passed after the incident, farm work was still annoying and hard for you, but you were finally getting to know abby better and growing closer to her, you would tell her stories from when you lived in england, and she would tell you stuff she did when she was younger as she was about 8years older than you. and after figuring out you both liked women, some flirting took place inside the farm.

abby showing you how to actually ride a horse, not in the princess way, which implied her having her hands on your hips, and you couldn't say you didn't like it. you also started teasing her with that new sundress you got the other day. one day she was doing the dishes and that's when you decided to sit on the counter beside her, your dress riding up and letting her see your thighs pretty well.

"what do ya need doll?" she would say. which you would respond with something along the lines of "oh nothing, 'just like watching you", and that made the well composed abby blush, a sight you don't see often.

"you're gonna drive me crazy with that dress." she simply says, and you are surprised but very happy to hear it.

so you put a hand on her shoulder softly, "what if that's what i want to do hm?" you admit, voice full of confidence after abby's revelation.

without thinking abby moves away from the sink to place her self in between your legs as you were still sat on the counter, and abby being tall made it that you guys were really face to face for once.

that act made you shiver, and you felt your heart beat into your chest, either from your nerves or the anticipation. abby was making it hard for you to compose yourself so you didn't think about what you were about to do.

"kiss me?" you tempted, with doe eyes which abby knew she couldn't resist before putting one of her hands under your chin, and kissing you hungrily, like she waited forever for that day to come.

when the kiss ended, both of yours and abby's lips were swollen from the intensity of the kiss.

"should we take this to my bedroom yeah? i have a king sized" she winked, mocking you for the first day you got here. you playfully hit her, "just take me upstairs", abby chuckled at that before carrying you bridal style.

an: should i continue this into a part 2?

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caelesjjk · 2 years ago

Text

𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕝𝕖𝕕 - 𝕛𝕛𝕜&𝕜𝕥𝕙

⟶ title: entangled ⟶pairing: spidey!jungkook x fem reader, venom!taehyung x fem reader ⟶au: marvel au ⟶ rating: 18+ ⟶ genre: romance, smut, love triangle ⟶ wc: 7.6k ⟶ warnings: Mnetions of blood and a wound, drinking, Jungkook calls you Data and Taehyung calls you Pigeon, infidelity-ish?? (you'll see), two smut scenes: oral (female and male receiving) mutiple orgasms, overstim, unprotected sex (thats a no, wrap it up) few different positions, making out, sweet kisses, nipple stuff ⟶ summary: Jeon Jungkook is Spider-Man.

He saved your life twice. But he’s also been your sweet lab partner in college for the past two years and now someone who is more than just a friend.

You care about him…maybe even love him. But something tells you that you aren’t quite sure what love even is. How could you when you have feelings for someone else as well?

Kim Taehyung is the handsome stranger you’ve seen around campus and somehow ended up dancing with at Club Onyx. You were upset that Jungkook had stood you up once again and Taehyung made you feel like you were on top of the world.

What you didn’t know that night, is the dark secret Taehyung is trying desperately to hide, but the closer the two of you get the more difficult that becomes.

⟶ authors note: hello darklings, its been such a long time. I apologize this took so long but it's finally here! I can't wait to see what everyone thinks of spidey!kook and venom!tae, they're truly my babies and I have loved writing them. This is only part one, I make no guarantees how quickly part two comes out, but I'll do my best I promise. I'm thinking probably four parts for this. enjoy! tell me all ur thots! Shoutout to M (@here2bbtstrash), Sav (@jeonjcngkook) and Kay (@tea4sykes) for looking this over and correcting my insanity and also assuring me that it's not terrible lol. Thank you all so much for your patience and help.

“So where is he?” your friend Penny says from across the table.

“He said he was coming.” You sigh, stirring your drink with the straw.

“He said that the last two times we were all supposed to study together.” Hoseok gives you a look that’s part sympathy and part annoyance.

“He’s working three part-time jobs. Not all of us have our parents paying for our apartments, Hobi.” You give him a playful glare and he returns it, followed by a poke of his tongue from between his lips.

Part of you wished you didn’t know Jungkook’s secret. That you could go back to the days where you were blissfully unaware of who he was. But back then, being stood up hurt even more because you didn’t know why.

Now you know. You know that Jungkook is Spider-Man. The infamous superhero with powers he acquired from being bitten by a lab altered arachnid a few years ago.

He saved your life. Twice in fact. Both times it was because you were curious, too curious for your own good, and you had been suspecting something was going on with Jungkook.

You followed him one night and watched in awe as he changed into his Spider-Man suit in an alleyway. And not just because he was Spider-Man, but because he was insanely gorgeous. You were hypnotized by the man who had been sitting next to you as your lab partner for most of the year. Who constantly hid his body beneath baggy clothes and bucket hats.

You had always liked him a little more than you cared to admit. And after you found out the truth about him, your friendship grew into something more.

There weren’t any labels; you didn’t call each other boyfriend and girlfriend, much to your dismay. But Jungkook always told you that if the wrong person found out about the two of you, they could use you to get to him. And he needed to be able to focus on his whole saving the world gig, and not constantly worry about your safety.

You understood. But that didn’t mean it didn’t sting a little.

You manage to study a bit longer with your friends before deciding you were far too distracted. You call Jungkook on your walk back to your apartment, but of course he doesn't answer.

So now you wait. And you worry.

No matter how hot the shower water is as it hits your back, it doesn’t stop the worry. You just want him to be safe, even if he pissed you off by not showing up again.

You wrap yourself in your favorite silky robe and get comfortable on your bed with some of your homework you didn’t finish with your friends, slowly getting immersed in all of the calculations and formulas that you love so much. They were a great distraction.

Not sure how long you’ve been studying, you get up to stretch and make your way to your apartment balcony, opening the doors and stepping outside for a breath of fresh air.

The city is always loud, but up here it isn’t so bad. The traffic sounds far away and the lights are just flickers across the skyline. You might even think it was beautiful if it wasn’t for the constant bad lurking around every corner. Or maybe you had just heard too many scary things from Jungkook.

Sighing when he pops into your head again, you turn around to head back inside only to come face to face with the superhero in question. Seeing him hanging there upside down from your doorway startles you just enough to send you stumbling backwards towards your balcony.

Before you can get too far, or even fully scream, Jungkook is shooting a web at your torso, pulling you back and into his arms as he flips down onto his feet. Your head swims from how quickly it happens.

“Data, look at me.” Jungkook’s voice is slightly muffled through his mask. “It’s just me.”

“You scared me.” You look up at him as he removes his mask and shakes out his hair, eyes finally meeting yours.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve been…noisier.” Jungkook smiles and you almost forget that you’re angry with him. Almost.

“What are you doing here anyways?” You shove against his broad chest and feel his arm release your waist. He sighs, following you inside your apartment.

“I know you’re upset I missed the study session…” Jungkook starts to explain, but you twist back around to face him.

“If my friends hadn’t seen you around campus now and then, they would think I made you up, Jungkook. You never show. It makes me look pathetic.” You cross your arms over your chest and wait for the next excuse.

“You aren’t pathetic, Data. I’m just…” Jungkook winces when he reaches for you, a hand moving down to his ribs in pain. “Sorry, it’s healing, it's just slow.”

“What’s healing? What happened to you?” You let the fight go for a moment, closing the space between the two of you and moving his hand out of the way.

Beneath his fingers is a large cut, bloody but half-hidden by his suit. It looks angry and inflamed. What could’ve made a cut like this?

“It’s nothing. I’ll heal up in a couple hours.” He pulls your hand away, blood stained on the tips of your fingers.

“It won’t matter how quick you heal if it gets infected. Come in here.” Your hand wraps around his and you pull him into your small bathroom. You steady him against your vanity and move to grab your first aid kit from the cabinet above your toilet. “Take that off.” You gesture to his Spider-Man suit.

“Yes, ma’am.” Jungkook teases, gingerly working his top half out of the suit. He hisses through his teeth as he peels the suit away from his ribs and lets it hang at his hips.

You are not the universe's strongest soldier.

Your eyes drift over all the dips and curves of muscle. A perfectly sculpted chest and abs you could literally eat off of are right in front of you, scrambling every sense you have in your head. You need to focus. Stay focused on the task at hand and not his ridiculously toned body.

“You okay, Data?” he asks, humor in his voice. That horrid nickname he had given you in your first year as lab partners is feeling more endearing these days. You clear your throat.

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine? Just tending to Spider-Man’s wounds in my extremely tiny bathroom.” You try to laugh but it doesn’t sound genuine.

You take out some bandages and gauze and get to work cleaning him up. But even as you tape down the gauze, you can visibly see the wound getting smaller. Super powers really are something else.

“Data.” Jungkook’s voice brings you back to reality.

“What?” You sigh.

“Please come here.” His hands reach for your hips and you give in, letting him pull you until you’re flush against him, suddenly nose to nose. “That’s better.”

“I’m angry with you,” you whisper, heart pumping a bit faster in the close proximity.

“I know that you are. I’m really sorry…I swear I wanted to be there.” You look down to see him slip his gloves off and sit them on the countertop before his hands come up to cup your face.

“Then what happened? You need to tell me.” Your hands wrap around his wrists.

“There’s something out there, Data. A…monster that we can’t figure out. It’s strong…and fast. Nothing I’ve ever seen before.” His thumbs brush the corners of your mouth.

“What does it want?”

“It keeps breaking into the Lab across the River. It’s looking for something. No one at the lab is being very forthcoming with information.” His forehead presses to yours. “But Mr. Kim is working on that part.”

Kim Seokjin, more famously known as Ironman. He was a mentor and a good friend to Jungkook. He was helping Jungkook navigate the new world of being a superhero and also gave him a job to help him pay for school.

“Hasn’t Mr. Kim told you to call him Jin over and over?” you tease, hands coming up to rest against his chest. Jungkook laughs quietly, pulling you closer.

“He has. Guess it just slipped out.” His hands move down to palm your ass.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” You raise an eyebrow in question of his actions.

“Just feels like I haven’t touched you in so long.” His warm mouth finds your throat and he presses kisses to the skin.

“Two days is a long time?”

“It is when it comes to you. Thinking about how much I want you gets so distracting.” He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, making you giggle.

“So what I did for you two days ago wasn’t enough?” You let your hands slither down from his chest and over the planes of his stomach.

“Never enough.” His nose skims over your jaw until you’re back face to face and his lips are devouring yours. “I’d like to pay you back.”

“How?” You moan when you’re cut off by his tongue sliding into your mouth.

“Let me show you?” Jungkook pulls away from the kiss, taking your hand and leading you out of the bathroom.

Thinking he means to lead you to your bed, you start to pull him towards it, but he seems to have other ideas, walking you back out onto the balcony. He releases your hand momentarily to slide his suit back up over his shoulders.

“What are you going to show me out here, Jungkook?” You start to feel suspicious.

“Do you trust me?” He jumps up onto your railing with ease, still holding your hand in his.

“Not if it involves you swinging me around off the side of buildings.” You start to pull back, but his other wrist shoots a web at your torso; using his inhuman strength, he pulls you up onto the railing into his arms.

“I would never let you fall. Never. Just close your eyes for a few minutes. I promise it’ll be worth it, Data.” He touches your cheek gently, and even though you want to throw up every time he does this, you close your eyes and wrap your arms as tightly as possible around his neck and your legs around his waist. “Ready?” He whispers in your ear, one strong arm wrapping around your back.

You don’t verbally answer, just nod once before burying your face into his neck.

And then the solid feeling of being on the ground disappears and the sickening feeling of free falling is very apparent. You try to breathe, squeezing yourself around Jungkook as you listen to the whooshing sound of his web shooters discharge as he swings you between the tallest buildings in the city.

“You’re doing amazing.” Jungkook kisses your cheek. “Just another minute.”

You keep your eyes clamped shut until the curiosity becomes too overwhelming, making you dare to peek just the slightest bit. You see the sun setting on the horizon, orange and purple hues slowly disappearing beneath the river. As long as you don’t think about how high up you are, it really is beautiful up here.

You soak in the feeling of Jungkook holding you so tightly because you never know when the next time may be. You hate to sound so dramatic in thinking that way, but it really is a guessing game sometimes . Your hands loosen and slide up into his hair, making him look down into your eyes and smile when he sees how fondly you’re looking back at him.

“Kiss me,” you whisper, even though there isn’t a single soul that could hear you up here.

Jungkook kisses the corner of your mouth and then the other before the softness of his lips has your eyes fluttering closed. This kiss is only gentle brushes of lips, noses grazing in the sweetest way you can imagine, all the while Jungkook is still effortlessly swinging you between buildings.

He shoots a web straight up into the air, letting it connect to the side of one of the tallest buildings, slowly pulling the two of you up until he’s reached the highest ledge, tapping your thighs so you know it’s safe to put your feet down. You kiss him once more before you open your eyes and look out at the nearly complete sunset…a thousand feet in the air.

“Why are we up here, Jungkook? You know the heights..” He kisses you again before you can finish the sentence.

“Can we try something?” He smiles, and it’s infuriating. You’re too weak for this spidey boy. You sigh with exasperation.

“I’m already very wary of saying yes.” You look away from the ledge towards the top of the building, taking note of all the intricate filigree and gargoyle statues.

“Let me make you feel good…up here.” His cheeks heat a little when he asks.

“Is this some kind of weird adrenaline thing? Why would you want that?” Your voice cracks and you sputter, disbelief heavy in your tone.

“I think it’ll be intense…feel so good.” His lips move down and his teeth nip at your jaw.

“It’s insane…” You melt into his touch and the way his mouth sucks at your neck.

“If you don’t like it, I’ll take you home. And I’ll get you naked in your bed instead.” He pulls your shirt over your head, fully knowing you’re about to give in.

“Bed sounds so good right now…”

“Please, Data…just try it.” He tosses your shirt to the side, cupping your breasts and kissing the tops of them.

“What do I have to do?” You feel too good to let the fear ruin the way he’s making you feel.

“Lie back on the ledge, with your arms above your head and your wrists crossed.”

You let him lead you down onto the ledge, every nerve in your body hot and on edge. Jungkook makes sure that you’re settled before he stands back up straight, looking down at you while you slowly move your arms above your head the way he asked.

“You’re perfect, Data.” Jungkook stares at you a moment longer before he aims his web shooter and traps your wrists together against the concrete ledge beneath you.

Your chest heaves at the idea of being completely helpless. He’s taken away your control and your ability to touch him as you please.

He makes quick work of the sleep pants you had been wearing, tossing them away to join the gargoyles on the rooftop.

“Jungkook…” you whimper when he lowers himself between your legs and lies down on his stomach so he can be face to face with your heat.

“Relax, okay? I’m gonna make it up to you.” He kisses a path down your thigh, sucking gently and caressing with his tongue.

You arch your back from the ledge when he pushes your panties to the side and his mouth finally makes contact with your pussy. Just a sweet kiss at first, then a deep, swirling lick to your clit. You pull against the webbing trapping you in place, fingers begging to be in his hair.

If only the citizens of his precious city could see him right now. Face buried and tongue lapping just for you. All of it for you and not for them.

You can feel tears start to form in your eyes from the way your orgasm is already so close to crashing over you. Jungkook has spent quite a bit of time getting to know your body and memorizing the things he knows that you like.

“Come on my tongue, baby. I’ve got you.” Jungkook soothes before his mouth is back to devouring you.

One particularly harsh suck to your clit while his fingers finally join in on the fun is what sends you over the edge, clenching around his digits in spasms.

You’re lucky that no one could possibly hear you all the way up here. The moans and groans that you both make while Jungkook licks up every bit of your arousal are beyond obscene.

“Please get this web off of me,” you huff between breaths. Jungkook slowly raises his head and with a smile on his shiny face, reaches up and effortlessly rips the webbing from your wrists.

You jolt upwards, wrapping your arms around his neck and digging your hands into his soft hair. Your mouths mold together automatically, your tongue tasting yourself from his lips.

“Did you like it?” Jungkook finally asks, pulling you into his lap.

“As long as I continue to pretend we aren’t thousands of feet in the air, I enjoyed it very much.” You both smile and you lean in to kiss the corner of his pierced lip. “You can’t always distract me with your extremely talented mouth though. I just…want you to try and be in my life.” You push some hair off of his forehead before he kisses your lips once more.

“It won’t always be this crazy, Data. I promise. I just want to make sure I help Jin as much as I can with this monster.”

“I know.” You want to tell him that you wish you came first. That there’s always going to be another monster keeping you apart. But that’s the price you pay for loving a superhero.

“Let me take you home?” He stands up, still holding you in his arms.

“Maybe let me put my pants back on first?” You laugh as he sets you down to retrieve your pants from a gargoyle statue.

And then you’re back in his arms and swinging back to reality.

The sun is still warm even though fall is almost in full swing. Leaves are starting to change colors and slowly drop off the trees. You love the smell of them as they dance by you on the breeze.

Something you don’t love is the damn pigeons that have made their home in the nooks and crannies of all the old buildings on campus. They fly down from their nests and make nuisances of themselves with the students, trying to get pieces of food.

You’ve been continuously shooing them away as you attempt to do your homework.

Sitting in the courtyard on top of a patchwork blanket, you’re lost in the numbers and formulas that keep you best distracted these days. So much so that you almost don’t see Jungkook before his head is in your lap and his smiling face is looking up at you, pigeons scattering about from his sudden movements.

“Good afternoon, Data,” he says cutely. You set down your notebook and pen, leaning down to kiss him.

“How nice to see you at school for once,” you tease, pulling his bottom lip gently between your teeth.

“Mm, things have been quiet for a couple of days. I got some sleep…and I missed you.” Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you to lay down with him across the blanket.

“What are you doing?” You laugh and push against his chest.

“Making sure everyone sees me kissing you.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” You comb your nails through the hair at the nape of his neck. “If the wrong person sees?”

Jungkook freezes for a moment, his eyes not meeting yours as his face scrunches in concentration. He abruptly sits up on his knees and you follow, looking around the courtyard.

“Something isn’t right.” Jungkook’s voice is low and quiet.

“What is it?” You continue to look around, seeing students walking to class or enjoying the sun in the courtyard like the two of you were.

Your eyes stop when you notice someone by the fountain taking photos with a professional type camera. His head of black messy hair is covered by a backwards black baseball hat. Long legs covered by snugly fit black jeans and his top half in a white button up, sleeves rolled halfway up in the most maddening way.

He must feel your eyes on him, because he’s suddenly looking right at you and you’re able to recognize who it is you’ve been drooling over. You feel embarrassment flood your face and body as you quickly look away, your heart racing in your chest.

Kim Taehyung. A photography student at your university. The best photography student if you remember correctly. You remember having a basic class with him your first year and he had seemed very nice. His smile was sweet, but the two of you didn’t talk to each other much at all.

You did think he was absolutely stunning though, sometimes wishing you weren’t too shy to have spoken to him back then.

Your classes must have all been different after that, but you still see him around campus from time to time. Always taking pictures, but always alone. And last year he seemed to disappear altogether before reappearing when the new semester started.

When you get brave enough to look back up at him, you see he has his camera pointed at you, snapping pictures. You look away again so as not to alert Jungkook of what’s going on. Taehyung smiles when you look up out of the corner of your eye, before moving on to take pictures of something else. Why is your heart beating so fast?

“Everything okay?” Jungkook asks, making you jump.

“I should be asking you that,” you manage to croak out.

“That weird sense of something being off is happening… I should go.” He starts to stand up and you grab his hand.

“What about this weekend? You’re still coming out with us right?”

He bends down and captures your lips in a quick but sweet kiss. “I promise I won’t miss it.” He gently nudges your forehead with his, making you roll your eyes with a smile as you watch him jog across the courtyard.

“Was that Jungkook?” Hoseok asks, sitting down across from you on the blanket.

“Um…yeah. He had to get to class,” you lie. Again. “Hey Hobi?”

“Yeah?” He stops grabbing books from his bag and looks up at you.

“What do you know about Kim Taehyung?” You nod towards the man with the camera, still taking pictures of some angel statues on the far side of the courtyard.

“He’s supposedly the best photography major at this school. He’s also…strange.” Hobi pretends to get a chill.

“Strange? Strange how?” You’re interest even more peaked than before.

“I don’t know, ____. I just heard some shit about him talking to himself all the time, and sometimes he comes to class all beat up.” Hobi brushes it off like it’s no big deal.

You don’t pester him any further, instead watching Taehyung as he takes a seat on a bench and starts scrolling through the pictures he’s taken on his camera.

Maybe people are making things up about him because he’s different. People don’t like different for some reason. But you…you tend to be pulled towards the different. Or it tends to find you when you least expect it.

Saturday night has come and almost gone, and you’re still waiting for Jungkook to show up at Club Onyx to meet up with you and your friends. You’ve been waiting for hours and downing drinks the longer you go unanswered.

You’ve called and texted him over and over with no answer and are finally ready to just give up. Hobi gives you that pitiful look as you slam your phone face down onto the table.

“Fuck this, I’m getting another drink.” You don’t say it to anyone in particular and you don’t wait for anyone to answer before slipping into the crowd towards the bar.

“Can I get a Long Island please?” you ask the bartender when she approaches. You slouch down onto a barstool and see a familiar face on the other side of the bar.

Taehyung. Sitting with a glass of whiskey in one hand and his phone in the other. The hat you usually see him wear is nowhere to be seen. Instead, his curly black hair has been somewhat styled over his forehead. He’s still wearing a white button up, but he’s left the top buttons undone this time, revealing the smooth skin of his chest.

“Here you go.” The bartender hands you your drink just in time for Taehyung to look up from his phone and see you already looking at him.

“Shit,” you whisper to yourself, taking your drink and making a break for the dance floor as quickly as you can.

The song playing isn’t one that you know, but as you chug down your drink you start to care less and less about knowing the song and just let yourself go. You want to have a good time and not mope about Jungkook standing you up once again.

You let strangers grind against you as you move across the dance floor, arms raised above your head and your hips swaying to the beat of the song. You’re a little tipsy as you place your glass down on the nearest table, but not enough to not know what’s going on.

A slower song starts to play with more of an r&b feeling. You watch as people start to pair off, the movements of their bodies making heat rush through you and settle on your cheeks and neck. You start to turn back to find your friends when you feel an arm slide around your waist, making you jump from the suddenness of being touched.

“Easy there, Pigeon,” a voice as deep as the ocean and smoother than satin says against the shell of your ear.

You twist your neck almost too quickly, eyes landing on the face of Taehyung. Your breath nearly disappears completely seeing him this closely.

“What are you doing?” you ask, but you don’t try to move away from him. God, you should move away but you can’t.

“You need someone to dance with.” He smiles and says the words with a matter of fact tone.

“I should find my friends…” Your brain finally starts to catch up and you move from his hold.

“One dance, Pigeon. Would be a pity to waste such a good song.”

“Why are you calling me Pigeon? I have a name.” You fold your arms over your chest.

“I know your name. But the pigeons at school seem to have really taken a liking to you, I couldn’t resist.” His boxy smile widens.

“You’re not being very convincing about this dance.” You try not to smile.

Taehyung puts his hand out asking silently one more time for you to dance with him. There’s that nagging feeling that you shouldn’t, but there’s a bigger part that says Jungkook isn’t your boyfriend, and he stood you up after he promised not to miss this night.

You take his hand.

Taehyung pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and gently pulls you towards him, spinning you around at the last second to press your back against his front. You gasp when you immediately feel him lean over you and press his face into your neck, his nose skimming your skin.

His big but delicate hands find your stomach, slithering down until they reach your hips, slightly bunching your dress in his fingers.

He gently moves his hips and grinds against your ass in the most tantalizing way, reminding you that you did in fact agree to dance. Taehyung groans quietly in your ear when the pace of your hips becomes quicker with more added pressure from your ass into his crotch.

You let yourself relax against him, head falling back against his shoulder and exposing more of your neck to him. His impatient mouth finds the juncture of your neck and shoulder and he kisses a soft line across your skin.

“Can’t believe your boyfriend would leave you all alone out here where the monsters can find you.” Taehyung's deep voice vibrates through your body and settles into your core.

“I don’t have a boyfriend…or monsters.” The words come out sounding breathless as he continues to press your body closer to his.

“We think you do.” His long tongue traces the shell of your ear.

We? You let it go because your brain is too foggy with lust to wonder what that could even mean right now.

“I don’t,” you repeat, pushing thoughts of Jungkook away for just a night. Taehyung laughs quietly, pulling your lobe between his teeth as his hands move up your chest to cup your breasts.

You don’t even care who sees the way he’s touching you right now. You’re becoming so turned on that you know your panties have to be absolutely ruined at this point.

“Come home with me.” He spins you around to face him just as the song ends, your eyes fluttering open as he cups your face in his hands.

“That…I can’t.” Your eyes search his, hoping it will make you realize that you need to walk away. Instead, there’s something that tells you you’re safe, but that you’re also in for a world of trouble. You don’t know how you know, you just do.

“I’ll make you feel so good, Pigeon.” His mouth is almost on yours, lips just brushing as he whispers. This man is fucking undeniable.

“Okay,.” you cave. You just want to feel wanted. You want to matter more than a stranger on the street. You want Taehyung to make you forget how much it hurts when Jungkook lets you down over and over again.

“Good girl.” His warm mouth slots with yours as he kisses you feverishly. Like he’s been starving for years and your mouth is his only source of sustenance. It’s hot, fiery, and all-consuming.

Not even sure when his lips leave yours, you’re suddenly being pulled by your hand towards the club exit. Your brain clears and you look around for Hobi or any of your other friends but you don’t see them. And honestly, you hope that they don’t. You hope they didn’t see what happened on the dance floor and you hope they don’t see you leaving with someone who isn’t Jungkook. That would be far too messy to have to explain.

“Did you drive here?” You squeeze Taehyung’s hand and he pulls you closer to him.

“I did. I didn’t even finish my drink, I promise I’m safe to drive.” He eases your mind as the two of you push out of the door and turn towards the parking lot.

But your mind is only at ease for a mere minute before you realize that Taehyung is leading you towards what appears to be a very, very fast motorcycle. Everything on it is jet black and ridiculously sexy. You wish you weren’t absolutely terrified.

“I’m not getting on that.” You stop in your tracks.

“Why not?” Taehyung grabs the helmet off the back and offers it to you. “I’ll even give you the helmet.”

“I just…that looks dangerous.”

“It is.”

“Glad you’re honest,” you half-laugh.

“The bike is dangerous, but I would never let anything happen to you, Pigeon.” Taehyung swings one of his long legs over the motorcycle, straddling it as he waits for you to make a decision.

“We hardly know each other, Taehyung.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t keep you safe on my motorcycle, or that we have to know everything about each other to feel something.” He holds the helmet out again and you feel your mouth go dry at his words.

The danger aside, there is no going back if you get on that motorcycle with him. There is no way you would have an untainted conscience ever again. Every time you were with Jungkook from this day on, you would have to think about the fact that at this moment, you also wanted Kim Taehyung to fuck you.

That should terrify you more than it does.

You grab your phone and quickly open it to see no messages or missed calls from Jungkook. Your answer gets a little clearer as you reach out and take the helmet from his hand.

“Carefully,” Taehyung says, taking one of your hands and guiding you to straddle the motorcycle behind him. You settle the helmet onto your head, and Taehyung smiles widely when he looks over his shoulder to make sure you’re ready.

When he starts the motorcycle, the vibrations from the engine immediately flood your body. Your arms instinctively wrap around his torso as tightly as possible, and you wait once again for the world to go past you far too quickly. The same way it always does when Jungkook is swinging you between buildings.

When he pulls out of the parking lot, he doesn’t go too fast like you thought he would. He takes his time weaving between the cars and taxis, making his way through the busy streets and closer to the docks.

You don’t entirely hate the motorcycle ride. Nor do you hate the way Taehyung laces his fingers through yours and holds them against his chest, or the way he brings your knuckles to his lips to brush a kiss against each one while he steers with the other hand. You don’t hate the way he sometimes moves that hand down to tap your thigh to let you know he’s about to make a sharp turn. You wish you hated the motorcycle ride.

Taehyung presses a button on his phone and a door on one of the warehouses starts to lift up. He pulls through it, parking the bike once inside. Your legs feel like jello when you take his hand to try and stand up, stumbling a bit in his hold.

“Okay there, Pigeon?” Taehyung grasps the sides of the helmet and helps you take it off. He sits it on the back of the bike before coming back to help you straighten out your helmet hair.

“It wasn’t terrible.” You smile and so does he, fire moving through your veins the longer your eyes stay locked with his. You quickly clear your throat. “So, you live in a warehouse?”

“I used to live in the city. It was just too…busy. I needed space.” He takes your hand and leads you towards some metal stairs. But before he does, you notice several more motorcycles parked inside the open part of the warehouse. Who is Kim Taehyung?

At the top of the stairs, it opens into a large open loft area that has a surprising feeling of comfort to it. There’s a kitchenette off to the right with just the necessities: a fridge, small table, stove and microwave.

The left side of the room appears to be the bedroom. A big messy bed sits against a headboard with intricate black vines carved into the wood. Soft pillows are haphazardly lying in all directions, some on the floor with their feathers scattered across the room. Taehyung visibly stiffens when he sees you notice them.

“Sorry about those…I think I might have a raccoon stuck in here somewhere.” He laughs and moves to kick the busted pillows under his bed.

Strange. He’s a little strange.

“Do you need something to drink?” he asks.

“Should I be worried about being here, Taehyung?”

“What? No. No, I promise you’re safe.” He crosses the room and comes to stand in front of you, concern evident on his perfect face.

“I just…I don’t do things like this. I’ve never even had a one night stand.” You card a hand through your hair and Taehyung tips your chin up to look at him.

“Why does it need to be just one night?” His face softens and his thumb brushes over your bottom lip.

“Taehyung…I don’t know what I’m doing.” It’s barely a whisper.

His head tilts slightly to the side before it spasms slightly, an uncomfortable look painting his face as he shakes his head and gets the spasm under control.

“Stop it.” Taehyung grits between his clenched teeth, mostly to himself.

“Are…are you okay?” Your worry grows by the second.

“Sorry…I’m sorry.” He cups your face in his hands and kisses you sweetly, catching you off guard. “I’m sorry if I scared you,” he whispers against your lips.

“I’m not scared of you.” It isn’t a lie. You aren’t scared, but something is off. And you’re too stupid to leave. “Should I be scared?”

“Not of me.” He speaks as if someone else is in the room.

His mouth finds yours again and lust takes the place of worry and concern. Taehyung easily grabs your thighs and lifts you off the ground as if you weigh nothing at all.

The next moments are a blur of clothing being stripped and bare skin coming in contact with hands and lips. Teeth scrape over nipples and long fingers drown themselves inside your dripping pussy. The warehouse echos with the sounds of your moans and his deep groans.

After your first thigh shaking orgasm, Taehyung sits on the edge of his bed and you kneel in front of him between his knees, taking his far too perfect cock into your mouth. You worship him with your tongue and make him come down your throat, his hands tightly gripping your hair.

Chills run through your sweaty body as he bends you over his bed and eases his cock inside you. Stars explode behind your eyelids while your fingers grip the bed sheets.

“He doesn’t fuck you enough, does he Pigeon? You’re so fucking tight.” Taehyung’s fingers dig harshly into your hips as he mercilessly pounds you from behind.

You can only moan in response, the coil in your stomach tightening and threatening to burst again. Tears slip from the corners of your eyes and stain the sheets you’re so desperately clinging to.

His fingers suddenly start to feel sharper, like they could pierce your skin at any moment, past the point of hurting in a good way.

“Stop,” Taehyung growls and the piercing feeling of his fingers starts to let up. If your brain wasn’t so fogged by your oncoming orgasm you may have questioned who the hell he was talking to.

“I’m so close,” you whine, feeling Taehyung press himself closer to you, one of his hands coming to the back of your head and pushing you deeper into the mattress. The new angle makes you feel him so deeply that even your stomach clenches and the dam finally breaks; you’re falling off the edge of the most shattering orgasm you’ve ever experienced.

Taehyung’s hips stutter as you clench around him, making him moan deep in his chest. When you can no longer hold up your body, he grabs your shoulder and flips you onto your back, then immediately slides his cock back inside your overly sensitive pussy.

You’re so blissfully fucked that it takes you a moment to focus your eyesight on his face. Sweaty black curls sticking to his forehead as you lift your heavy arms and dig your fingers into his hair so you can pull his mouth down onto yours.

“I almost…I almost lost control. You feel so good.” His tongue swipes into your mouth as he angles himself to hit your g-spot with every hard thrust of his hips.

“Please come, Taehyung.” Your nails dig into his back and leave scratch marks across his skin.

“Never wanted anyone as much as I want you…fuck we want you so badly.” He buries his face into your neck as he thrusts once, twice more before you feel him spill inside of you. Hips bruisingly tight against yours as his cock twitches each time more cum fills you up.

“Holy shit.” You move your hands back to his hair and gently lift up to see his face. You swear when he looks at you that all the color has drained from his eyes. They’re solid white.

You gasp and blink once, seeing Taehyung’s pretty brown eyes looking back at you in less than a second.

“Wh-what was that?” You’re still panting.

“What was what, Pigeon?” He smiles and presses a kiss to your cheek before he slowly pulls out and walks to his bathroom, giving you a chance to ogle his perfect little ass and the muscles of his back.

“I just…thought I saw something,” you say when he returns to the bed with a cloth for you to clean up with. You really need to get more sleep if you’re starting to see things.

“Did I hurt you?” Taehyung’s face is suddenly a lot more serious when he reaches out to run his fingers over the apple of your cheek.

You remember the way his hands felt on your hips. How they could’ve been on the verge of piercing through your skin. At least, that’s what you thought when it was happening.

Looking down at your hips, there��s obvious red marks from fingertips, but also scratch marks that just don’t seem like they could’ve come from Taehyung’s short cut nails. What the hell?

“I um…I think I’m okay.” You pull the covers up over your hips a little, hoping he won’t see.

“You should sleep here. I can take you home in the morning, I’m just too sleepy right now.” He pouts his mouth a little and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his side.

“Okay.” You’re admittedly too spent to call an Uber or argue with him about taking you home tonight. You just need to sleep. Sleep will fix everything. Tomorrow you will wake up and not feel like you’re losing your entire mind.

“…don’t ever fucking do that again…” You hear part of a conversation in your half asleep state. “I swear if you would have hurt her…”

Who the hell is Taehyung talking to in the middle of the night?

“She’s with the spider….liability.” A deep inhuman voice fills the empty air. Your eyes shoot open wide and every nerve is suddenly completely wired.

Are they…are they talking about Jungkook?

“She’s not. She said she’s not,” Taehyung’s voice answers, stress evident in his words.

“We should eat her now…”

“No! You’ll have to kill me if you think you’re ever touching her. And we both know you can’t do that,” Taehyung yells.

You wrap the thin sheet around your naked body and slowly move towards the railing that overlooks the open part of the warehouse downstairs. You stay back far enough so not to alert anyone of your presence.

Looking down, you see Taehyung sitting at a table with his back towards you, wearing his black jeans slung low on his hips and nothing else. He runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

And that’s when it seems like the shadows around him start to move and your heart threatens to burst from your chest. Because not only do they move, but they have a face. A terrifying face that is seeping from the back of Taehyung’s neck and moving around him …as it talks.

“You’re weak for her,” the monster growls deeply, its huge teeth and unnaturally long tongue becoming more apparent as it moves into the light.

“We had a deal.” Taehyung seethes. “I’m literally the only person you haven’t killed when you bonded with them. You need me to get your symbiote friends home and I need you to take down that fucking lab.”

You can barely believe what you’re seeing or hearing. Is this the monster Jungkook was talking about? The one breaking into the lab across the river?

“Aren’t we friends?” The monster asks in a condescending way.

“Not if you hurt ____. She has no idea what she’s in the middle of and it should stay that way.” Taehyung holds his arms out straight and the monster starts to wrap its moving pitch black skin around him…its skin becoming his.

You’re so startled by the sight in front of you that you stumble back, knocking over an end table full of magazines and books. Fuck.

“Shit,” you hear Taehyung say before the monster has completely consumed him. What stands in his place is something you will never forget for the rest of your life.

The monster must be at least 8 feet tall, huge bulking muscles made of that inhuman black skin that constantly appears to be moving. Its huge white eyes land right on you immediately, its mouth and teeth pulling into a wicked smile as it jumps into the air and clears the railing in a single leap. You scream as the ground crunches beneath its feet when it lands in front of you.

The monster looms over you and all the breath in your lungs disappears.

“What…what are you?” you croak, fear freezing you in place.

“We…are Venom.”

taglist: @hanversace @chaelvrx @moonchild1 @rkivewritersblog @ungodlyjoon @ricecakeslove @jeonsweetpea @screamertannie @tearyjjeon @kookrecs @bintificreads @minisugakoobies

series masterlist | main masterlist | Part Two

#jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #bts x reader #jungkook smut #taehyung smut #jungkook au #taehyung au #jungkook fic #bts fanfic #bts series #jeon jungkook #kim taehyung #bts smut #bts fic #bts fluff #bts au #marvel au #entangled talks

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mysecretlittlelibrary · 9 months ago

Note

Can you please do reader x Kurt Wagner(X-2 version) where they both have feelings for eachother but don’t voice it and they have to share a room together for a mission and it’s Kurt’s first time🙏🏻🙏🏻

~Who Says You Can't Mix Business With Pleasure?~

Pairing: Nightcrawler x Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: handjob, riding, cunnilingus, cum eating, unprotected p in v, creampie, Kurt is innocent (so lowkey corruption kink kinda??)- I think that's everything, I hope, maybe, sorry if not lol

Genre: fluff with nice amounts of smut

Summary: It's Kurt's first mission but who said you can't kill two birds with one stone (not literally, you read the ask)

A/N: Omg I am so glad you asked dear and so politely too. Here you go dear, hope you like it ;)

***

You push open the heavy doors to the familiar mansion, popping a large bubble with the gum in your mouth.

"Well, look who's back." Logan is the first to greet you at the door.

"You're one to talk, what are you doing here claws?"

"I hate when you call me that." He rolls his eyes as he pulls you in for a hug.

"I know but it suits you so well." You laugh wrapping your arms around him.

"Now that's a sound I haven't heard in quite a while." Scott announces as he descends the stairs.

"Summers! Is that a smile I see on your big dumb face?" You gasp.

"A surprise visit from you is deserving of one I'd say." Scott chuckles and you leap up to lock your arm around his neck.

"Everyone here's such a grumpy bastard." You ruffle his hair.

"What're you even doing here?" Scott asks wresting his way out of your grip.

"Prof asked me to come." You shrug.

"Y/n?! Y/n!" Rogue comes speeding down the hall.

"Hey poppet. How ya doin little vampire?" You ask hugging her while she lets you.

"I'm good! You're back! Are you staying?"

"Not sure hon, depends on what Xavier needs from me." You shrug.

"Where have you been?" She asks.

"All over the world, my dear. There's much to be done, you know."

"Hey Scott have you seen- y/n?" Jean comes around the corner, blinking in surprise when she sees you.

"I have actually, yes." Scott jokes.

"At this rate I'll never make it out of this foyer." You laugh. "Hey Jean." You wave at her.

"Hey! I didn't know you'd be back today."

"I don't think anyone did honestly. Even I didn't til Charles called me and told me to come back." You shrug.

"What for?" Her brow furrows.

"I have no clue, he wouldn't tell me over the phone. He just said that as soon as I was done in Seattle, I needed to head back this way." You say.

"All over the world and you were just across the country?" Rogue looks at you.

"Before Seattle I was in Cairo, before Cairo it was Greece, before that it was Italy- I'll show you pictures later." You wink at her. "I'm gonna track down Charles before any one else catches me in the foyer and I do never leave this spot." You say slipping past your friends to find Charles Xavier. Several students greet you as you walk down the halls but there are also many new faces wandering the mansion. You eventually find him in his office.

"I was beginning to wonder when you would arrive." He says when you walk in.

"Good to see you too Charles."

"You seem well."

"I take care of myself when I'm not here." You shrug.

"I'm glad to hear that."

"So what'd ya need me for Professor?" You walk over to his bookshelf and scan the titles as you wait for an answer.

"There's a mission I have that- only you can complete."

"Me? Come on, there's a house full of us, no way they couldn't handle it." You scoff.

"It's not that they're not capable, it's that the only favorable outcome requires your presence."

"Look I'm not gonna reject the mission or anything but I can't see how that could be true." You say.

"There's a new mutant here."

"There's always a new mutant here, that's why this place exists."

"Not a student, y/n. I'm sending him on a mission and I need you to go with him." He says.

"Why me? I've never met the guy, I'm kinda the worst choice dude everyone else has been around him."

"That's exactly why it has to be you. I need him with an objective partner."

"Fine I guess. What's the mission and when do we leave?"

"Here's the file. You have an hour."

"An hour? Wow, rushing me right back outta here." You chuckle.

"Mr. Wagner, no reason to lurk outside the door, you're welcome to join us. Come on in." Charles calls out loud.

"What're you talking about?" You frown.

"Your mission partner." Charles says and you turn your head to the closed door of the office. There's an odd thudding whoosh sound beside you out of your peripheral causing you to whip your head around. You leap out of your chair when you realize a guy is standing in the previously empty space next to you. He's a deep shade of blue with bright yellow eyes and markings covering his skin.

"What the fu- who are you?" You narrow your eyes.

"Kurt Wagner. But in the Munich circus I was known as The Incredible Nightcrawler!"

"Riiiight. Well I'm y/n but on missions I am known as Flex."

"It is a pleasure to meet you." Kurt bows his head which causes you to quirk an eyebrow up at him.

"Likewise." You hold out a hand for him to shake. The bow thing is really weird. He takes your hand in his and places a kiss on the back of it instead of just shaking it. You turn to Charles for a moment so he can fully see your confusion.

"I look forward to working with you." He smiles revealing shark-like sharp teeth.

"Same. Get yourself together Nightcrawler, we leave in an hour. And pack a bag, we'll be gone a while."

"I have to pack?! Okay. I will see you in an hour." Kurt nods leaving the office.

"What's up with him?" You ask Charles.

"Trauma. Lots of it based on what little I've been able to gather thus far." He says.

"So you want me to acclimate the new stray."

"I wish you wouldn't do that." He sighs.

"Why? It's not a dirty word. We're all strays around here. It's how we found each other." You shrug.

"Y/n." He sighs.

"Lighten up X, I love it here. Although I do have to get ready to leave again. Where are we going?" You hum opening the file to read. "Switzerland? What's in Switzerland?"

"I went through all the trouble to make that file y/n read it instead of asking me questions I've answered in there." Charles says.

"Alright, alright. I'm gonna unpack and repack and read your file. I'll keep you posted on our progress once we leave." You wink at him and leave the office. Up in your room you find Storm and Jean already chatting on your bed.

"So you weren't going to tell me you were coming back today?" Storm stands and slings an arm over your shoulders.

"Unfortunately I'm off to Switzerland darling, so I can't even catch up." You say.

"Switzerland?! For what?" Jean frowns.

"Some mission with the circus boy."

"Kurt! Wait he brought you home to go on a mission with Kurt? Why?" Storm asks.

"Your guess is as good as mine babes. I leave in an hour." You shrug.

"Wow." Jean says.

"I know. Wait I didn't bring this inside." You say noticing the bag you brought with you is on the bed.

"Logan did. You know the boys here do anything for you." Storm scoffs.

"True. Thanks to him for that. Okay, give me... Sparknotes what've I missed?" You ask as you unload your bags. You toss the dirty clothes into your hamper transfer your personal items into a larger bag and pack new clothes and Jean and Storm update you on the chaos you missed while out handling other assignments around the world. You talk with the girls as long as you can while you pack, but an hour is only so long and soon you're bidding them farewell to meet Kurt at the jet.

"Hello again y/n." Kurt says when you get there. He's perched on one of the wings of the aircraft.

"Sup Nightcrawler. Whatchya doin up there?" You ask grabbing the keys to the jet.

"Waiting for you!" He says teleporting to where you are.

"Ready to go then?"

"Yes!" Kurt says following you into the jet. You drop your bag down at the back somewhere and settle into the front seat assuming Kurt has no idea how to fly one of these things.

"Strap in somewhere Wagner, don't want you knocking around as I fly." You say as you prep for takeoff. He scrambles into the copilot seat next to you and buckles himself in. "Ready for liftoff." You put on your headset and fly out of the hanger.

"Do you know how to fly one of these things?" You ask him once you're in the air.

"Oh no. I do not- I've never- no." He shakes his head.

"You wanna give it a shot?" You smirk.

"Is it difficult?"

"Don't worry love, I'll guide you the whole way."

"What do I do?"

"You can start by grabbing the steering." You say. Kurt's hands shoot forward to grab the steer. "Good. Pull it towards you to go up, push it to go down. Turn it to turn. Got it?"

"Got it." He nods.

"Okay, I'm going to let go and switch it to your controls. Just hold your wheel5 steady." You tell him switching primary control from you to Kurt. The jet dips immediately.

"Pull up Kurt, pull up darling." You tell him and he jerks the wheel towards him sharply. "Gentle love gentle! A little goes a long way. Steady it."

"It is- scary." Kurt says.

"You're doing fine honey just take it easy. Don't let her scare you, you've got the wheel so you're in control, act like it."

"Okay. Okay. Easy. Control. Gentle."

"Much better dear, much better." You nod. "Do you wanna try something fun?"

"What is it?"

"A flip. You wanna try flipping the jet?"

"What if we crash?"Kurt's eyes widen.

"We won't. I won't let us, there's no one around, plus I think you can do it." You shrug.

"How do we do it?"

"All at once, very quickly, you need to pull the wheel towards you and flip it upside down. Okay?"

"Okay." He nods.

"Ready?"

"Yeah!"

"Alright, 3, 2, 1- go! Flip it!" You say. Kurt quickly executes your direction and the plane flips upside down once, twice, three times before Kurt rights you again.

"That was fun!" Kurt looks at you with a bright smile.

"Told ya." You wink. "Do you wanna keep flying?" You ask.

"I would feel better if you took it back soon." He admits.

"Very well, you're doing a great job though sweets." You tell him.

"Thank you, but I am still nervous." He says.

"That's fine. I'll take the reins back in 5 minutes. Is that okay?"

"Yes." He nods.

"Brilliant." You smile. After exactly five minutes you take over flying from Kurt. The flight is long, but eventually you land at the coordinates indicated in your flight plan.

"Cabin in the woods. Great." You say when you come out of the jet.

"Is something wrong?"

"No no, just making an observation." You shrug.

"It is empty out here, no?"

"Well we can't land this thing in the middle of Zurich." You say.

"Oh- yeah I suppose so." Kurt mutters.

"Get your things, we'll settle in and start mission stuff in the morning." You tell him walking over to the cabin to locate the key to this place. Eventually you find it under a panel of the floorboard that pops out of the porch apparently. You unlock the door and turn on the lights, surveying the room. There's a couch and a fireplace with a TV above the mantle on one side of the entry and a kitchen on the other. It's a little chilly in here, which makes sense, since no one's been here in who knows how long. You shoot a flame into the fireplace, lighting the wood already piled there. You head into the kitchen, wondering if there's anything left to eat in here or if the stash in the jet is all you've got. There's a few nonperishables like canned soups, dried fruits, and a bunch of jerky types but you'll probably prioritize the items you brought.

"Uh- y/n?" Kurt calls out.

"What's up?"

"There seems to only be one bedroom here?"

"Of course there is." You sigh. "Then I guess we're sharing."

"Sharing?!"

"Well yeah, obviously. Unless you'd rather sleep out here on the couch." You shrug. Kurt mutters something under his breath. "Kurt it was a joke honey I'm not about to make you sleep on the couch."

"Is that- acceptable?"

"What do you mean is it acceptable? We're not in school." You scoff.

"I just mean- we're- it's not traditional to-" Kurt stops when you lift a hand.

"All we're doing is sleeping. I promise not to jump your bones in the middle of the night." You tell him. He still seems nervous about to prospect but he lets the conversation drop there.

The rest of the evening he doesn't talk much, which is fine. You spend the evening reading Charles' provided file and strategizing for this mission. It looks like you're breaking into a Striker facility looking for information, unfortunately there's not much available in terms of schematics here.

You wake up before Kurt the next morning and are already sipping coffee when he shuffles into the kitchen.

"Good morning y/n." He says.

"Good morning Kurt. Would you like coffee?"

"Yes please."

"We'll start with observation. We don't have schematics for the building we're hitting so we need to map it out somehow." You tell him as you pour a cup off coffee and hand it to him.

"How will we do that?"

"Gonna test out a gizmo Charles packed in the jet. All we have to do, is get it inside." You say showing Kurt the tiny electronic.

"We have to get that inside?" Kurt's eyes narrow at the thing.

"Yep."

"But how are we going to get in?"

"Go through the giant doors and hope no one stops us." You shrug.

"You can't be serious."

"Only kind of. We don't need to be undetected really, we just have to make sure they don't notice this when they do detect us." You say.

"Okay." Kurt says.

"We'll take the snowmobile to the edge of trees and then hit the building from the side."

"I can teletransport us."

"Great, let's head out then." You say, placing your empty coffee mug in the sink and heading out. Kurt is quick to follow you and soon you're off. It takes quite a while to hit the edge of the trees, a couple of hours, but eventually you reach the building. You scope it out for a bit before locating a door that seems like your easiest chance for getting inside. It looks like some sort of service door and a quick glance tells you there aren't any cameras on the door.

"How do we get inside?" Kurt asks when you reach the door. You place your ear against it and luckily enough you catch the sound of footfalls that you're almost sure are headed this way.

"Someone's coming. Kurt I'm gonna kiss you okay." You warn him.

"Wha-" the door starts to open so you push him against the wall and press your lips against his. You pull Kurt's hands down to your waist with one hand while the other sits on his shoulder.

"Ugh gross." You hear from whoever's opened the door. "Hey, you two. This is private property. You can't be here." He says knocking on the wall by your head. You pull away from Kurt, feigning surprise.

"Oh shit- there are people in there?" You try to look inside over the guy's shoulder. He tries to block you. "I thought for sure this place was abandoned." You swing your elbow into his nose and grab the door from him pulling it forward into the back of his head, knocking him out.

"Let's go. See what we can check out while we plant this thing." You tell Kurt, walking inside. For the first few halls you walk down there's no sign of anyone. Then, you hear a pair of voices coming from a couple of halls away. You pull Kurt around a corner and press a finger to your lips.

"Someone's coming, wait here." You say. Kurt grabs your wrist when you turn away.

"What are you doing? You said someone's coming." He frowns, searching your face, for what? You're not sure.

"Just trust me. Find somewhere to stick this. I'll distract them." You say handing the little device to Kurt.

"But isn't that-"

"Hurry, Kurt." You say walking over to a big metal door that you're sure leads to whatever this place is really for. You bet if you had time you could get through it, but it'd be risky since you have no idea what's on the other side of it.

"Hey! You! Hands where we can see em!" A man shouts from behind you. You put your hands up near your head.

"Can you see them from here or would you like them higher?" You ask, spinning around to face your opponents.

"Don't move or we'll shoot." It's the same voice as before, it's coming from the short haired one on the left.

"Will you? That'd certainly make this a more interesting story." You smirk.

"Do not take another step!" The man on the right says.

"Or you'll shoot ya I heard you the first time. Although the more you say it the more it feels like a bluff."

"We aren't bluffing." The man on the left narrows his eyes at you.

"You look like you've never shot a gun in your life and you're holding that one so tightly I don't think you'd be able to hit me if you tried." You scoff at him. "You however look a little trigger happy. I bet your aim is pretty shit but at least you'll fire, maybe even knick me once if you shoot enough times." You address the other one.

"You really wanna test that theory?" The man on the right says.

"Do your worst." You say taking a step forward. Before either of them can do anything, you feel arms around your waist and if not for the blue color of them you'd have immediately flipped him but you can't even react. For several minutes the world flashes in and out too fast for you to process until eventually it stops and you realize you're at the edge of the treeline again. You stumble forward slightly when he lets you go.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

"I'm fine. Did you place the thing?"

"Yes."

"Then let's go." You say getting on the snow mobile. Back at the cabin, you turn to Kurt before you enter.

"Why did you do that back there?" You ask.

"They were going to shoot you. I thought you were in danger." Kurt answers immediately.

"Yeah darling this isn't the circus. These missions are dangerous."

"Why do you do that?" He furrows his brow.

"Do what?"

"Darling, sweetheart, honey. Do these words not mean something- romantic?"

"I use them a lot just as part of my vocabulary." You shrug.

"And- earlier when you... kissed me?"

"It was a diversion. Sorry if it made you uncomfortable." You say.

"No it- I just haven't-" Kurt shakes his head.

"Don't tell me you've never kissed someone."

"I have! Just- not that way."

"What do you mean?" You ask.

"Can I- show you?" He sounds hesitant and he's barely looking at you.

"Sure."

"I have kissed- but only, like this." Kurt says and then kisses you. It's basically a peck honestly.

"Oh. Well- I'm going to ask something very personal, you don't have to answer but- I'd like to ask."

"Go ahead." He nods.

"Have you- ever had sex before?" You ask. Kurt looks about as shocked as you expected him to be.

"I- no."

"Is that why you were being so weird about sharing a bed?" That's the thing you really wanna know, but you figured one would explain the other.

"I was nervous." He says.

"Nervous?"

"Who wouldn't be nervous sharing a bed with such a beautiful woman." Kurt says.

"You shouldn't say things like that or I'll think you like me." You smile.

"Would it be bad? If I did?" He asks.

"Well not necessarily. Why? Do you?"

"I- I think so."

"You think so?" You step closer to him. "You don't sound too sure about that."

"I think you are gorgeous, but you are an enigma. I can never tell what you are thinking or what you will do next."

"Right now I'm thinking about kissing you again. Which I really want to do next, but not unless you tell me you want me to."

"Not as a diversion?"

"Not this time." You shake your head. Kurt hesitantly closes the gap between the two of you, kissing you with his hands on your hips. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, kissing him furiously. To his credit, Kurt is keeping up with you better than you expected. You pull away after some time to open the door to the cabin and pull him inside by his shirt, kissing him repeatedly as you guide him down the hall to the bedroom.

"Now I'm thinking about how far you'll let me take this because if you don't tell me to stop I might just eat you alive." You say pushing Kurt onto the bed. He blinks up at you with wide eyes.

"You don't mean that literally, do you?" He asks and you chuckle.

"No, not literally." You shake your head.

"Then, take this as far as you want."

"Now that's a dangerous precedent." You hum.

"I trust you." Kurt says.

"That's sweet, although you should be more careful about trusting people you've only known a couple of days. What if I break you?"

"Will you?"

"No, not today anyhow. It's only your first time so I'll be gentle with you." You say sitting next to him.

"I do not know what to do." Kurt whispers.

"Don't worry, I do." You say cupping his face and kissing him again. You let your hand trail down his body until your fingers skate over his buldge. Kurt jolts against your touch and you smile into the kiss. He's so cute.

You rub the palm of your hand over his hard dick, loving the way his breathing hitches from the friction as he squirms. His head drops to your shoulder with a shuddering moan. Part of you just wants to pull reactions from him like this but another, louder part of you is dying to feel him buried inside you. You slip your hand under the waistband of his pants and underwear, relishing in the feel of him hot and heavy when you wrap your fingers around his dick and hear his sharp intake of breath.

"I need you to take these off." You tell him and he quickly shucks off his pants and underwear.

You dip down and drag your tongue up the length of his dick, starting at the base and circling the tip. Kurt makes a strangled sound that morphs into a groan when you fully take him into your mouth. His hands curl tightly into the sheets as you bob your head up and down, sucking him off, enjoying the way he pants and hisses from the pleasure. You can tell he's trying not to jerk his hips.

"I- I don't think I can take-" Kurt squeezes his eyes shut and as much as you want to push him over the edge, you have no idea what his refractory period is and you'd be pretty bummed if he was down for the count before you got to ride him, so you take the warning and release him with a pop.

He lets out a relieved breath and tips his head back as he allows his body to relax.

"Still wanna know what I'm thinking?" You ask shoving his shoulder so he lays all the way back on the bed.

"Always." He huffs out.

"I can't wait to see the look on your face when I ride you." You tell him pulling your shirt over your head and dropping your pants.

"Oh." He breathes and you're not sure what's got him more tongue tied, your words or the fact that you're now naked in front of him.

You take his dick in your hand again as you straddle him and after taking a moment to line him up you sink down. You're so wet that even without preparing yourself, he manages to fit. You grind down slowly, adjusting to the stretch as you take more of him with each rotation of your hips.

"Heaven help me." He whispers once you're fully seated. An almost commical contrast to the explitive you let out at the same time. You place your hands firmly on his chest and set your rhythm, riding him furiously.

Kurt's mouth drops open and his eyes widen as you bounce up and down.

When you catch his hands clenching at his sides you place them on your hips, your pace barely faltering as he grips you tightly. You're sure those claws of his will leave marks at the rate but you really don't care. The feel of him sliding in and out of your wet heat is all you can focus on.

"Y/n, I cannot- it's too much, I'm going to-" Kurt's eyes squeeze shut again and his hold on you tightens somehow.

"It's okay Kurt, go ahead, cum for me." You pant out keeping your pace steady. A few more grinds and Kurt is spilling into you with a long groan and his pretty face all scrunched up. You ride him through it, enjoying the heat now coating your walls. When you're sure he's released every drop, you roll off of him and he grabs your wrist when you move to stand.

"Wait-"

"I'll be right back."

"No- you did not... finish." He says. It's not a question, it's an assertion and you wonder how he's so sure.

"Yeah I- I didn't wanna hurt you by continuing while you were- like sensitive."

"But you also need to- have one."

"I mean-"

"Can I taste you?" Kurt asks and you blink at him in shock. Given that his cum is literally leaking out of you right now you're surprised by the request. "Please, I want to."

"Alright." You say. Kurt pulls you down to sit on the bed and drops to his knees in front of you. It all happens very quickly, before you know it, his head is buried between your thighs. His first few tongue strokes are experimental, getting a feel for you in his mouth. But only the first few, after that he laps at your cunt like a man starved.

His tongue is everywhere, licking your clit, exploring your insides, pumping the muscle in and out and around. It's too much and not enough, it's as if he actually plans to devour you and he seems to watch for what gets the best reactions from you. When a specific flick of his tongue makes you tangle your fingers in his hair he does the maneuver again and again relishing in the way you pull at the strands every time. You grind against his mouth, chasing your orgasm with his tongue. He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks on the bundle of nerves, pulling an actual squeal from you. And he keeps at it, adding his tongue in what is apparently a lethal combination of stimulation because it doesn't take long him to pull you over the edge with a loud moan.

It takes a few moments for you to catch your breath and Kurt watches you from the ground the entire time.

"Are you happy with yourself now?" You ask half jokingly, tugging him by the arm off of the floor.

"I like bringing you pleasure." He says.

"You are just too cute." You chuckle laying back.

"What happens now?" He asks following your lead and laying back across the bed.

"We do what we came here to do. Although I'm sure we'll have plenty of time for recreation while we're here." You turn to look at him.

"I meant when we leave. What happens between us? Do you leave the mansion again? Do we pretend this didn't happen?"

"I dunno. Charles likes to send me away for things. Maybe we can convince him to let you come with me." You shrug, turning your gaze back to the ceiling.

"What if he says no? When will I see you again? What do I do until then?"

"You've asked seven questions so far and not one of them has been 'will you go on a date with me'. You're jumping ahead don't you think?" You ask.

"A date?"

"Well yeah. I mean unless all you're thinking about is hooking up."

"No! I just- you seem to be gone a lot. I wasn't sure you would want to be... attached."

"Be the reason I stay. Or be the reason I come back. Or come with me. Anything, just tell me that's what you want." You sit up to look at him.

"More than anything." He says sitting up.

"Good. Then we'll sort out the rest later. For now let's just finish this mission. And then we can talk about that date."

"Okay." He nods and you giggle at how adorable the action is. You're sure this isn't what Charles had in mind when he assigned you to the newbie's first mission, but you'll still thank him when you get back anyway.

***

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #kurt wagner x reader #kurt wagner #nightcrawler x reader #nightcrawler smut #nightcrawler #nightcrawler fluff #xmen nightcrawler

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