#at the same time i so desperately would love to see a musical number from him in any genre at all...!!!!

[starleska]

my favourite headcanon for Nordic Bunny is that he has an absolutely killer metal scream, which he can use as a weapon. and it's so high/powerful that it comes off like a brutal electric guitar riff. i just!!! think it would be sick if he also had musical powers!!! 🎸🤘

[strangermarvelss]

all of the girls you loved before- e.m

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: the one where eddie runs into his first love, leaving you to question your relationship in the aftermath. loosely based on the taylor swift song with the same title.

Warnings: angst, crying, jealousy, insecurity, eddie being rude unintentionally, cursing, pda (gross), eddie and reader are a few years out of high school, fluff, happy ending

Word Count: 4.8k

Request?: No

A/N: hello again everyone, its been a minute! since i’ve been gone, i’ve entered my swiftie era (not like crazy obsessed but def a fan of the music) and this gem of a song dropped and plucked some inspiration from me, so here is a new one shot for you all! enjoy! -sava

The haze within the hot open room of the Hideout was starting to dissipate, the crowd exiting the venue one by one as the band you’ve been cheering on from your spot at the bar begins clearing the stage of their equipment. The ringing in your ears has yet to go away, getting so lost in the metal music that you didn’t care if it would bite you in the ass at work tomorrow, you’d find a way to take customers orders at the diner, even if they had to scream in order for you to understand. 

You found yourself sitting at the same spot at the Hideout every Tuesday night to cheer your boyfriend and his band members on. Within the years since graduating high school, the town you called home started coming around to the type of music your boyfriend played, despite ridiculing him for years prior to their own revelations. With the new popularity, Tuesday nights at the Hideout have gone from 5 drunks sitting in the back to almost a packed house every week, begging for encores and autographs at the end of each show. It made you happy seeing your boyfriend celebrated in such a way, having been there for him in his lowest points when the tables were turned. Now you bask in his glory like never before, cheering him on alongside the rest of the town.

Paying your tab, you begin walking towards the back stage area when you see a tall lanky man with long luscious curls make his way over to you, his smile wide as his signature dimples poked into the sides of his cheeks. He extends his arms wide, not caring if he gets in anyones way as he greets you. Taking off in a run, you launch yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist as he catches you, hands making contact with your ass in a not-so-subtle way. You pull away and look at him momentarily before pressing your lips to his.

You take in his scent as your mouths move together as one, the sweaty smell that was no match for masking with his cheap cologne filling your nostrils, but you didn’t mind one bit. You part away from his lips, looking at the deep chocolate irises that you love seeing on a daily basis before running a hand through his sweaty mop of curls. He sets you down and plays with his bangs, moving them to the side as they desperately try to cling to his damp forehead.

“You guys killed it tonight,” you tell him, pulling him in for another hug. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his side and twisting his upper body and leaning down to press a kiss to your hair before flashing a closed mouth smile at you.

“Couldn’t have done it without my number one fan,” he says, cupping your cheek with his large calloused hand and placing yet another kiss to your body, this time directed at your forehead.

“So I was thinking that maybe tonight we go back to my apartment and watch some movies? I know we usually go bother my coworkers at the diner after your show but I kind of just want some you and me time,” you tell him with a smile.

“That sounds even better than going to the diner. I bet you’ve already picked out a selection of movies.” “You know me so well. I rented Halloween, Nightmare on Elm St-“

“Eddie? Eddie Munson?” a feminine voice calls out from behind you. You and Eddie turn around, watching a slim figure approach you with a bashful look plastered on her face. As she got closer, you noticed she was wearing a short black leather skirt and a bright pink top, barely leaving anything to the imagination with the amount of cleavage she was showing. Her hair was long and straight, looking silky to the touch as her skin glowed under the colorful stage lights that were still on. Who the hell is this, and how did she know Eddie?

Eddie squints his eyes as she approaches the two of you, his face relaxing and the smile growing wider than you’ve ever seen it when he finally makes out her features. You won’t deny the twinge you feel in your chest as you watch him drop your hand and give the mysterious woman a big embrace, bigger than the one he gave you moments ago.

“Holy shit! How are you? I haven’t seen you in forever,” Eddie exclaims, breaking away and tucking his hands under his armpits.

“M’good! Just finished up college not too long ago so I came back to Hawkins while I search for something a little more permanent,” she tells him, her timid demeanor going out the window as you watch the two grow comfortable with one another. “I see things at the Hideout have changed since we went to high school not too long ago.”

“Yeah, they sure have,” Eddie chuckles, kicking one of his feet out as he looks down. “Looks like the people in this shit town have finally come around when it comes to listening to good music.”

As you watch the interactions from person to person unfold in front of you, you feel the familiar tickle in your nose begin, hoping and praying that you won’t be noticeable if you aren’t able to get rid of the impending sneeze.

“Achoo!” You exclaim, bending down and hiding your nose in the crook of your elbow, silently yelling at yourself when you watch both pairs of eyes land on you.

“Bless you,” the mystery woman says with a smile. You nod, taking a step forward to try and join in on the conversation.

“Thank you,” you tell her, extending your hand. “I’m Y/N by the way, Eddie’s girlfriend.”

You watch Eddie nod as she takes your hand, shaking it firmly. “I’m Heather.”

Suddenly you feel your brain catching up with the rest of the world, clicking into place once the name leaves her mouth. This was the Heather you’d heard so much about from Eddie’s friends. The same Heather that just so happened to be his first love, capturing his heart in ways you wish you could’ve done yourself. If only you’d moved to Hawkins earlier in your high school career compared to your senior year, a.k.a Eddie’s second attempt at being a senior. 

The members of the Hellfire Club gave you all the details that you needed to know about Heather: that she was Eddie’s first everything. First date, first love, first time, and eventually, his first heartbreak. The two were smitten with one another when no one else wanted to look Eddie’s way, with all the judgy classmates questioning why they were together in the first place. They didn’t see Eddie for who he truly was, they only ever judged him based on his outer appearance. The same goes for Heather: everyone always questioned why someone as hot as her would settle for someone like Eddie, which always made you upset to hear.

“It’s really nice to meet you Heather. I’ve heard a lot about you,” you tell her, trying your best to sound as sincere as possible. Eddie shoots you a look, silently telling you to stop, which makes your heart drop a bit. Adverting your eyes from him, you look back at Heather, who didn’t miss the interaction. 

“All good things I hope,” she jokes.

“Are you kidding? Of course all good things. I can only hope you extended the same courtesy for me, if you did tell your college friends about me,” he says, rushing the last part out. Was he getting nervous?

“I can assure you that I did. Even after the way things ended…” she says, looking down to the ground as her sentence trails off. You can sense the tension in the air, feeling as if you’re causing the vibe of the conversation to shift a bit. Masking your feelings with a smile, you turn to them and excuse yourself, lying about needing to use the restroom before heading out for the night. Holding the curtain to the side, you enter the backstage area and round a counter towards an empty hallway you know nobody ever comes down after the shows, as you and Eddie have had your share of moments in this very spot, both PG and R rated moments.

As the secluded feeling sinks in, you feel the confidence and happiness that filled your body just moments ago begin to evaporate, vanishing into thin air as you replay the last few minutes in your head. His big smile when he saw her, the big and warm embrace, the look he gave you when you nudged your way into the conversation. It made you want to shrink into yourself. Jealousy was never something you were known for having, usually being more focused on the moment at hand and knowing the security you had with the relationships you had with the people around you.

But the history between Eddie and Heather changed that.

When you first heard about Heather, you didn’t pay much attention to it because you knew that was his past. He told you numerous times that he loves you and loves being with you, and it made you confident in the strength of your relationship. But knowing how strong those feelings he had for Heather and seeing her interact with him in real time, it changed things. He was a different man from the one he was in high school, having graduated and making a name for himself with the music he loves performing. And now that Heather is back in Hawkins for a while, it makes you wonder what could happen between the two of them. 

Would they be able to reconcile? It didn’t look like there were any harsh feelings anymore, so maybe making up was still an option for them. What if Eddie wanted to revisit his past and be with the girl he loved before you came into his life? Was the love he had for her stronger than the love he has for you?

You could feel yourself being to spiral, your arms wrapping around your body and hugging on tight. Your breathing was starting to become jagged and unsteady, trying your best to take deep breaths slowly to get yourself to calm down. Thinking the worst was always such an easy solution for you, because preparing for the worst and not being shocked by the disappointment that lies ahead was better than being blind to the impending doom.

Once you feel yourself becoming calmer, you exit the hallway and walk towards the curtain once again, hesitating and stopping in your tracks. Peeking your head out, you can see the two of them still talking, Eddie throwing his head back in laughter as the two share a funny moment with one another, making your heartache grow. Retreating back behind the curtain, you turn and see Gareth walking your way, a smug look on his face before contorting into a welcoming smile.

“Hey Y/N! Glad to see you made it out tonight, even though I know you’re in the audience every Tuesday,” he says, wrapping his arms around you. You give him a quick hug, pulling away and failing to mask the hurt as you see his demeanor change. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, everything is fine…it’s just, Heather is here tonight. She came up to Eddie and I and started talking with him and catching up-“

“Wait, Heather Heather?” Gareth asks before poking his head out of the curtain. “Holy shit! I had no idea she was back in town. Still looks as hot as ever.”

Pretending to ignore that, you let out a sigh and tap him on the shoulder. Gareth turns to you, lifting a brow.

“Can you make out what her and Eddie are talking about? I think I sort of killed their vibe earlier and now it looks like things are picking up now that I’m not there.”

“Yeah, hang on one second,” he tells you before disappearing behind the curtain. As much as you appreciate Gareth helping, you were more scared to know how the conversation is going. With all the possibilities that were swirling around in your head, it was just getting fogged up with negativity that you were not expecting this evening and you hated going to such a low place.

A moment later, Gareth pops back from the other side of the curtain with a neutral expression, which worries you more than it should. You raise your eyebrows at him, bracing yourself for whatever news that he was about to deliver.

“So I used the gig as an excuse to talk with them and told Eddie that we were almost done loading the equipment up, which is true, and he said he’d be back here in a minute. But as I was walking away, I heard Heather mention how they should catch up another time over coffee and when I looked back, she was writing her number down on a napkin for him,” he explains.

Somehow the news hurts you more than you imagined it would. With their plans on the horizon sometime soon, it made the insecurities rise once again. You knew how special someone’s first love could be because Eddie was that for you. Before moving to Hawkins, you had your fair share of dating but none that meant much to you compared to the feelings your harbor for Eddie. Knowing that he already experienced that with someone else didn’t bother you until that person had to show up right there in front of you. A majority of these worries and doubts reside in your head, you’re aware of that, but it almost feels as if there is going to be a choice he is going to make, and it isn’t looking good for your side.

You can feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, unable to hide the frown that resides on your lips as you process what Gareth told you. Looking at him, you flash him a sad smile before wiping away at your bottom lash line, a half-baked attempt to get rid of the tears. He rests a hand on your shoulder, ducking his head down to try and make eye contact with you. 

“Hey, don’t get sad, okay? Heather is just Eddie’s past, but you’re his present and his future. You don’t have anything to worry about,” he tries to reassure you.

“Yeah, you might be right,” you tell him before meeting his gaze and making eye contact. “But you didn’t see the way he looked at her. The way he smiled at her, the way he held her. On top of that, the way he looked at me when I talked to her. I’m worried that I actually do have something to worry about,” you explain.

Now it was Gareth’s turn to frown, breaking the eye contact and staring at the floor below. He should know better than anyone how Eddie felt about Heather all those years ago and it doesn’t just go away overnight. 

“I think I should go. I’m going to sneak around the other way…will-will you tell Eddie I wasn’t feeling good or something? If you can think of a good excuse, just use it, because my brain is fogged up right now and I can’t think of any,” you ask. Gareth nods, sending a sad smile your way before you disappear behind more curtains as you make your way around the stage to exit through the front doors unnoticed.

—————————————————————————————————————

It’s been three days since you’ve last seen Eddie.

Clocking out of your shift at the diner, you sigh as you realize its your usual date night with Eddie, yet haven’t heard a word from him since the awkward encounter with his ex at the Hideout. To say the silence has hurt you would be an understatement, as you wait by the phone any chance you’re home hoping he will call. He always makes it a point to call you at the end of each day when he knows you both are already off work, catching up on each others days and talking for hours before falling asleep.

Now you’re going home alone for the fourth night in a row, wasting away as you prepare yourself for when Eddie does eventually call you to break things off, telling you he wants to try things with Heather again while she is in town and rekindle the blissful and naive love they once held in their hearts for one another.

Tossing your jacket on the back of one of the chairs at your kitchen table, you let out a sigh as you begin making your way to your bedroom and undressing your uniform. Quickly, you change into a comfortable band t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts, tossing your dirty uniform in your laundry basket before going back to the kitchen. Opening your fridge, you spot the bottle of wine you have been eyeing every day after work this week. The delicious red teasing you and wanting you to indulge in the sweet liquid to cope with the impending end of your relationship.

“Fuck it,” you mutter to yourself, before grasping the bottle and twisting the cap open. Opening the cabinet above, you grab the first wine glass you see and take it out, pouring the wine in until it gets close the the rim. You take hold of the glass and make your way over to your couch, bringing the glass to your lips and letting the wine travel down your throat with ease. 

Before you’re able to bask in the taste, you hear your doorbell ring throughout your apartment. With a puzzled expression, you set the glass of wine down on your coffee table and make your way back to the front door, sliding the peep hold cover to the side to get a look at just who could be outside. Rolling your eyes, you take a deep breath before opening the door, standing face to face with the man who owns your heart. At least, for the next few minutes.

“Hey sweetheart,” he says with a smile.

“What are you doing here?” You ask straight out of the gate. 

“Good to see you too,” he says, raising his eyebrows and looking down at the pizza box resting in his hands for a moment. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted to do for date night tonight, so I just took it as an opportunity to plan an evening of pizza, movies, and indulging in the new weed I got from Rick yesterday.”

“I just thought we weren’t going to do date night this week since I hadn’t heard from you,” you say.

“Sorry sweetheart, that is my bad.” He tells you as he makes his way inside your apartment. He sets the pizza on the kitchen table and opens the fridge and pulls a beer out. “I’ve been extremely busy this week with work, band practice, and…uh, well…”

“Heather?” You question, closing the door and resting your back against it as you bring your arms to cross in front of your chest. He stills for a moment, frozen in place as silence falls over the apartment unit. Turning to you, he raises his eyebrows while biting his lip, his physical look of guilt showing front and center. Trying your best to remain stoic, you quirk a brow at him, keeping your position at the door as you wait for an explanation. 

“How, uh…how’d you know about that?” He finally asks after several minutes of silence.

“Gareth told me before I left on Tuesday. Said he overheard her giving you her number,” you answer plainly.

Another beat of silence falls throughout the room. Eddie’s attention is on the floor below him, kicking his feet as he digs his hands into the pockets of his black jeans and forgetting about the beer he was excited about enjoying. You find your eyes diverting to the ground as well, finding it hard to look over at your favorite metalhead. Mentally preparing yourself for the ache to grow, you finally let out a deep sigh, your hand coming up to rub at your forehead before you work up the courage to look at him again.

“Look, if you came all this way to let me down gently with pizza and weed, you can just save yourself the trouble. I’ve already spent the past few days preparing for this, so lets just call it what it is and go on about our lives, okay?” You muster out, feeling your throat close up and voice waver towards the end. You shut your mouth, turning your head as you feel your bottom lip begin to quiver. Opening the door, you step to the side and remain silent, not trusting yourself to speak anymore. You can’t breakdown in front of him, not when he’s choosing another girl over you.

You hear his heavy footsteps grow closer to you, stopping right before your figure. Your eyes are planted to the floor, seeing his stark white Reeboks enter your vision before leaving once again. Suddenly, you feel his hand lay on top of the one holding the handle to the front door, guiding it to a close and stepping to the side.

“I’m not breaking up with you,” he reveals.

You whip your neck in the direction he moved to, seeing the sad expression on his face as his big brown cow eyes look into yours. Part of you was hesitant to question him about it, not wanting his mind to change in a matter of seconds and leave you in a puddle of sadness afterall. But the more logical part of your brain wanted answers. Why did he not bother calling you for days but thought it was okay to hang out with his ex? Why didn’t he confess earlier about seeing her around? Why was he acting so strange at the Hideout, and why didn’t he want you talking to her?

“What?”

“I said I’m not breaking up with you, sweetheart. Why was that even a thought that popped into your head?” He asks, his voice level and sweet. He takes a step closer to you, filling the small gap that had separated you moments ago before slowly extending an arm out to you, cupping your cheek in his hand and rubbing the pad of his thumb across the soft skin.

“I don’t know…” you finally answer, the lack of confidence in your voice giving you away as your sentence trails off.

“C’mon, I know you had to think that somehow. I won’t be mad or anything, I promise. Just want my sweet girl to talk to me.” You take the beat of silence to think about to how explain it to him without coming across as a jealous and needy girlfriend. You can do this, you think to yourself.

“It’s just-I know how you felt during that relationship and how deep the feelings were thanks to Gareth and Jeff, a-and the way you were talking to her and looking at her at the Hideout on Tuesday made it look like no time had passed and that the feelings were still there. I mean, she gave you her number Eds! A-and you just said you hung out with her!” You exclaim, breaking out of his grasp and retreating towards the living room. You run a hand down your face, sighing as you try to level your heavy breathing. 

“Okay, when you put it like that…yeah it sounds bad,” you hear him say from the kitchen. You sit on the couch, taking a large sip of the wine you abandoned earlier. Eddie turns around and stalks over to you, sitting on the chair opposite of you, not wanting to get too close again after the failed attempt. “But baby, I promise nothing happened with Heather and I, okay? We went over to Rick’s last night after grabbing coffee and smoked. Nothing more.”

“I just wish you told me about it,” you let out, feeling deflated from the way you were reacting.

“I know baby, and I’m sorry I didn’t. Work had been busy and when I was going to call you after I woke up yesterday, Heather called and asked to hang out at the coffee shop. I should’ve used the payphone outside the place or hell, called you before I left my place. If I could go back and do so I would.”

You flash him a half-hearted smile, looking back towards your wine glass before picking it up once again. Bringing it to your lips, you take another big sip, beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol move throughout your limbs and send a tingling feeling in them. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Eddie slide over onto the couch, still leaving room between the two of you as he leans his arms on his knees, hanging his head down a bit and letting his long mane of curls move forward with him.

“You want to know what we talked about yesterday? Over coffee?” He asks, quirking a brow your way as he shifts a bit from his position.

“Hmm?”

“We caught up, I asked her about college, she told me all kinds of stories. Even told me the story of how she met her fiancé, who moved in with her when she came back to Hawkins. They’re getting married in November, a few weeks before Thanksgiving which I thought was nice. Then I talked to her about you, and how we’ve been dating since the winter of ’84 and been inseparable since then. I must’ve been smiling really hard or something because she pointed out how happy I looked when I talk about you, which is true,” he chuckles out, a silly grin creeping onto his features.

Now it was your turn to smile, unable to hide the warm and fuzzy feeling that made its way into your chest at hearing the words. You set the wine glass back down, shifting on the couch so you were facing his direction, legs crossed as you leaned over to take his hand in yours. “Really?”

“Oh of course baby. Look, what I had with Heather all those years ago was great, and I appreciate the time I had with her then. But loving her taught me how to be better and show the person I was really meant for all the more love and affection that they deserve. You,” he boops your nose, making a giggle escape past your lips. “-you are the one I love now and will love until I take my last breath okay? All the shit I’ve been through was worth it because it brought you to me when you moved here, and I am so fucking happy about that. Wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

You can’t help but feel the burning sensation behind your eyes at Eddie’s sweet words. Sure, you still felt like a bit of a fool for acting like a jealous girlfriend, but hearing Eddie shut down all your worries and reassure you about his feelings for you in the nicest way you could’ve imagined warmed your heart. You move your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him towards you and closing the distance between you as your lips meet his. His hand instinctively goes to your hip, holding you closer as his mouth moves against yours in fever.

Eventually pulling away, you lean your forehead against his, giggling to yourself as you feel his bangs tickle the sensitive skin of your cheeks. You look at his big brown eyes, seeing the soft look he was giving you and melting all over again.

“Sorry for acting like a jealous girlfriend babe. Not the prettiest look for me if I’m being honest,” you joke.

“Hey, if the roles were reversed, I would totally act the way you did, so I get it. But now you know that you don’t ever have to worry about anyone else, because like I said, you’re it for me baby. I love you.”

“I love you more,” you say, pressing your lips to his cheek. He shoots you a grin, breaking contact with your forehead and rubbing slow circles into the fabric of your leggings. 

“How about I warm up that pizza I brought over and we pop in one of those movies I rented? You probably need some food after all that wine you drank,” he says, making you laugh. Nodding, you agree.

“That sounds like the best idea you’ve had.”

[wonysugar]

keep talking | aeri uchinaga

synopsis : your best friend, aeri, was on tour with her fellow aespa members. she missed you a whole lot though, so you guys get on call and she asks you to talk about your day, to ramble, and to just keep on talking<3

pairing : idol!giselle x fem!reader

genre : best friends to fwb, phone call, smut!!

tags : phone sex, giselle is pretty subby in this, so yknow reader is kinda dommy, long distance, bffs to fwb, fingering, clit rubbing, dirty talk, you talk her through it ehehehe, aeri is still an aespa member, they’re on tour, and aeri has practice later help, what a bummer :((

warning : none just horny smut lol

word count : around 1.2k

a/n: this has been in my drafts since july,,, SO sorry,, but anyways i hope you enjoy this :] thank you

“a-s-a-p, babyy, hurry up, don’t be lazyy”

you heard the ringtone from your cellphone, immediately jumping on your bed from excitement as you quickly accepted the anticipated call, not even bothering to read the contact name. you’ve been planning to call her ever since she’s left the country, but she’s just been so endlessly busy recently, you couldn’t help but miss her.

immediately greeted by the voice of your best friend, aeri, a playful “heyyyy.” is what came out of your speaker.

“heyyyyy.” you sang back just as playfully, earning a giggle from her. “how is it in the uk? you having fun?” you ask, occupying your fingers by twirling and playing with your hair as she hummed. her and her band, aespa, were currently on tour. today, they landed in london, and were now getting ready for their concert tomorrow.

“it’s fun!! we landed only a few hours ago but i’m already loving the city so farrr. i went grocery shopping with ning earlier and, it was like.. so fun for no reason??” she told you, you could visualize her smile just from the way she spoke. “it would be so much more fun if you were here though, y/n..” she added, now probably pouting.

you chucked, “it’s okay, aeriii. it’s not like we’re completely separated, we have each other’s number. worst case scenario, we text a couple of times in a day.”

“but it’s not the sameee.” she whined, “seeing your best friend in person and seeing them through a screen is not the same thing at all.”

you tried reassuring her that the tour wasn’t gonna last that long, and that you both were gonna hang out as soon as it was over. she eventually agreed and shrugged the feeling off, asking about your day and how you’ve been.

“to be honest, it’s also been kinda lonely without you so i’ve just been at home in my freetime, sometimes going on walks. though i should say! listening to your music while i’m at work does help, like girl.. that shit gets me so hyped up like m-m-mamba-“ you rambled on and on, confident that she was listening to everything you were saying due to the responsive mhms she let out.

they progressively became less frequent, however, and then, at some point, they just completely stopped. you started worrying, wondering if the signal was gone or something..

“you there?” you ask.

“h-huh? y-yeah i’m still here.” she replied with a slightly shaky voice.

that didn’t sound very convincing.. was she feeling okay? before you could ask, a small noise escaped her lips. a noise that sounded like… a whimper. a whimper that was trying to held back.

“you know, we can call some other time if you don’t feel too well right no-“

“fuck y/n please don’t hang up… keep talking about whatever i don’t care but just.. please k-keep talking. i’m sorry, i’m listening i p-promise.” she interrupted in such a desperate voice, kinda whining in the process as she was breathing heavily into the mic.

you were dumbfounded. this was all so strange.. was she in danger or something? why would she ask you to just keep talking if she was, though? you just sat there for a moment, silent, a confused look plastered on your face.

until it clicked. oh.

oh.

the heavy panting.. the shake in her voice.. begging for you to keep talking.. the slight whimpering??? your stomach pleasantly twisted at the thought, was she actually..?

a smirk began to form.

“aeri..” you pause, contemplating actually asking the question. then,

“are you touching yourself right now?”

no response, just a desperate sigh. she was probably trying to think of an excuse. oh that poor girl. “oh my god you totally are.” you said, feeling like teasing her some more.

“i’m sorry y/n, i - fuck - i just missed you so- mmh..so much i couldn’t help it i’m sorry-.” she whined out.. you were imagining the look she had on her face right now, head probably buried in the pillow.

yet in another whiny voice, “this was a bad i-idea i have practice later and.. fuckfuckfuck-“ is what comes out of her mouth, almost inaudible due to how quiet she was being, careful as to not let the other members next door overhear.

you couldn’t lie, you weren’t expecting her to act like this. she never would say kinky shit to you directly, let alone do it in your company. you guys were close, so you talked about sexual things sometimes, but it was all in good fun. having her masturbate on a call got you unexpectedly and indescribably turned on.

“fuck practice aeri, describe what you’re doing.” you asked, getting undeniably hornier by every small noise she let out.

she exhaled, “i’m - ah - fingering m-myself..”

you slowly unbuttoned your jeans as you were listening to her response, “with how many fingers?” you add.

“t-two..” she panted yet again, your hand already getting into your panties and closer to your cunt.

“are you imagining they’re mine?” you spread apart your pussy lips, gently rubbing on your folds, feeling how wet you already were from her. you exhaled from relief.

she whimpered and squirmed at your words, knowing her, she was most definitely feeling embarrassed right now. then, she let out a needy mhm in response to your question as she was pumping her fingers in and out of herself.

“words, baby.” you added.

“fuck y/n - yes i am..” she quietly moaned out.

“good girl.” you praise, earning a cute little whimper from her. fuck, you couldn’t help it, hearing her pretty moans and knowing that she was touching herself to your voice made you lose it.

you inserted your own fingers into your aroused cunt, letting out a sigh of relief as you were finally doing something about the pool that was growing in between your legs ever since you figured out that your best friend was masturbating to your voice. holy shit, not even the greatest porno ever made could get you this aroused.

then, you heard a chuckle from the other side of the line. “d-did i get you horny?” she teased.

“no shit you did.” you shakily confessed as you could hear her quietly moan, “you sound so good.” you added.

“fuuck i wish i was there with you right now.” she confessed back, her voice obviously still very shaky.

“what would you - mmh - do if y-you were?” you wanted her to explain every little detail, to ramble on and on about what she was thinking of right now.

she slowed down on the fingering, as if it was really going to maximize her thinking, “w-well.. for starters..

i’d probably pin down you on the bed.. get on top of you and m-make out with you, slowly letting my - god - hands roam your entire body as i move my mouth further down. feeling the pressure from your knee in between my thighs..”

her voice started getting shakier while your cunt got just as wet hearing her describe the scene, god you needed to see her face, you needed to see how she was probably squirming at the sensation, how desperate she was getting just from imagining all of it. you needed to see it for yourself.

“aeri.” you shakily let out.

before she could even choke out a response,

“can you get on facetime?”

[gojos-thot-patrol]

It's the horniest time of the year Dear reader.

Now Loading, Kinktober Week one...

Synopsis: Suguru has loved you since he met you. Or maybe lust is a better word. Either way, it never really mattered. You were a good girl who would never give a dirty fuck boy like him a chance. You were smarter than that. Even now, as you sit on his lap learning how to smoke for the first time, you'd never give him a chance. Right? Kinks: Pussy drunk, corruption, non/dub con, stoned sex, and slight yandere behavior. Viewer Discretion is advised.

It was the laugh that got him. Light and sweet, delicate even. A wind chime giggle that drew Suguru’s attention away from whatever the fuck his roommate was talking about, and right to you. You were adorable. Bright vibrant eyes and a shy smile, trying to hide behind a red solo cup as Shoko continued to tease you. It made his dick twitch.

“Yeah, so true Satoru- hey who’s that?” He asked Gojo, cutting off whatever rant he was on to point at you.

“Oh, you haven't met Y/n yet?” Gojo asked.

“You have?” Suguru didn’t like the jealous pang he got from that. He didn’t like the idea that Gojo got to you first. Satoru knew this, and smirked back at him.

“Sure have,” He winked, “She’s Shoko’s new roommate. This is apparently her first party ever.”

“You don’t say?” Suguru hummed, looking over at you in time to see you decline a joint being passed your way. You screamed sheltered kid, and you probably didn’t even know it. “You should introduce me.”

“And why should I?” Satoru scoffed, “So you can fuck her once and then never answer her texts again?”

“Are you planning on treating her any better?” Suguru snorted back.

“Hey man, that’s!-...Fair enough, actually, come on.” He sighed, nodding his head towards you as he escorted his friend over. “Hey, Y/n!” He yelled with a laugh, and you waved to him.

“Hi Gojo!” You smiled, drowsily swaying back and forth as you enjoyed your buzz.

“You look like you’re having a good time,” He chuckled, “Hey, I got someone I want you to meet. This is-”

“Hi Suguru!” You waved at him, your smile growing. To Satoru’s, but more so Suguru’s surprise, you seemed to know him.

“Oh, uh, Hey.” He smiled with a soft wave.

“I thought you said you hadn’t met?” Satoru asked, looking puzzled. Your confusion etched your features as well as you looked up at him.

“Why would you say that? We have Music History together.” You gently reminded him. Geto ran though his mind palace, ripping books off the shelves as he desperately tried to remember who you were, and how the fuck he could have possibly forgotten you. 

Wait…wait…No fucking way, you couldn’t be the same girl. The one who passed out almost the moment class started? The girl who wore exclusively sweatpants and band hoodies? He had noticed you before, mostly for your good taste in music, but seeing you when you weren’t just a walking corpse was like seeing an entirely different human being. 

“I never said that, Gojo doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” Suguru swiftly threw Satoru under the bus, sitting next to you and draping his arm around your shoulders, “How have you been Y/n? Enjoying the party?” his smile was so charming, it was the only thing you could really focus on. 

“Backstabbing asshole-” Satoru muttered as he went to find better friends. 

“I’ve been good!” You smiled with a nod, leaning into his side, “Little nervous about last week's test though. I kinda struggle in that class.” You confessed.

“Really?” He asked with a precious tilt of his head. “You know, I have an A in Music History, I could tutor you if you wanted.”

“Really?!” You gasped, eyes dazzling like all of the glitter in the world was contained in them, “That would be so nice!” He laughed softly and nodded. This was almost too easy.

“Of course Sweetheart. Here, let me get your number.” 

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

You hated how much you liked Suguru. How special his attention made you feel, how sincere his care seemed to be, and how sweet his actions were. Mostly because you knew it was all an act. You thought it was funny how he tried to talk you up as if Shoko wasn’t your roommate. Did he really think she wouldn’t warn you about her friends and their natural fuck boy tendencies?

After the party that night, Shoko had told you exactly who Suguru Geto was when it came to women, and made it clear in no uncertain terms that the only thing he wanted was a one night stand. It hurt at first, considering you did have a crush on him at one point. But, you were thankful for the warning nonetheless. You knew your judgment when it came to guys was less than phenomenal, and this whole ordeal confirmed it. 

Still, you happily accepted the free tutoring. If there was one thing Suguru knew a lot about, it was anything having to do with music. His passion for it leaked into how he taught, and soaked up into you. You found yourself actually engaged in topics you previously found boring, and your grade did genuinely improve. You hated that it only added fuel to your ridiculous crush. There was some truth in the saying that the quickest way to fall in love with someone is to see them talk about their passions, and you were falling into that trap. 

Of course, the hours spent together outside of tutoring didn’t help. The parties his frat held, movie nights hosted by Shoko, randomly bumping into him at the library. You almost always found yourself somehow alone with Suguru. Often it was friendly: talking about whatever new band he discovered, or about whatever movie was playing. 

But, sometimes it got more intimate than that. Him pulling you onto his lap to “make room for more people” on the couch. Hiding in a corner at some basement show together, close enough that you could smell the tequila on his breath while he openly wished to kiss you. It took willpower you didn’t even know you had to deny him. You quickly came to the realization you needed a distraction. 

That’s what led you here. “Who are you texting?” Suguru asked, completely giving up on trying to teach you about the effect the LA riots had on the rap music genre. 

“Why do you want to know?” You questioned back, lifting an eyebrow. You were a little more than two months into your friendship with Suguru, and at some point during that time he decided he was privy to whoever it was you were talking to at any moment. He said it was because he cared about you and wanted to keep you safe. You knew it was because he was jealous.

“I’m just curious who you think is more important than getting a passing grade?” He smiled so syrupy sweet as the sarcastic comment dripped from his lips. Asshole. You sighed and shook your head. You wanted to argue with him more, but, you couldn’t keep this secret from him forever.

“So, you know Keigo from class, right?”

“Why the fuck are you talking to Keigo?” Suguru snapped as his eyes narrowed, a stark contrast from just seconds before. You flinched a bit at the venom in his question. Suguru never really cursed, and it always made you feel small when he did. Still, you couldn’t back out now.

“Simple, he’s my boyfriend.” You shrugged, trying to feign a confidence you truly did not have.

“Your what?” 

“Oh my God, you’re acting like I just told you I fucked a republican, it’s not that big of a deal!” You scoffed at his utter disgust, your shame from earlier being replaced with indignation at his reaction. You weren’t sure when he got the idea that he owned you, but you were determined to kill it.

“How long have you been “dating” Takami?” He more accused than asked.

“Only like a week. It’s not that big a deal, almost no one even knows. We're going to make it official at ABO’s Halloween party next week.” Oh, of course. You would choose his frat party to try and make things “official.” Like you were trying to make him look like a fool. He rolled his eyes, dramatically leaning back in his chair, as if he was trying to get away from you.

“Oh, well isn’t that just cute.” He sneered, the word “cute” cutting deeper than any insult he could have thrown out at that moment. You bristled at the comment, fighting back the urge to punch his stupidly cute throat.

“What crawled up your ass and died?” You scoffed, “Like you have any say in my relationships.”

“I just think it’s really funny that you say you want nothing to do with fuck boys, and you want a real relationship with someone who cares about you” he mocked, “Just to start dating the second biggest fuck boy on campus, right after Ryomen of all people.” He shrugged calmly despite the rage setting a fire up his spine.

“Well, aren't you just a nice guy.” You all but hissed. It was his turn to flinch now, your words clearly hitting a nerve dead on. He clenched his jaw and his fist, before visibly letting it go.

“Whatever. You’re a grown woman, make whatever mistakes you want.” He sighed, not willing to escalate the fight any further. Right now, that is. It wasn’t your fault you wanted to give Keigo a chance, you saw the good in everybody. Even him once, before Shoko got to you. His fight wasn’t with you, it was with Keigo. 

“You’re right, I am!” You announced, proud of your perceived win. 

“Yeah, you go girl, you’re so empowered. Now can we please get back to studying?’ He scoffed with a shake of his head. 

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

“You sure Takami isn’t going to show up tonight?” Gojo asked as he adjusted the fangs in his mouth.

“Not if he knows what’s good for him.” Suguru chuckled a bit as he finished putting the wolf paint on his face. His knuckles were still a little sore from where he cut them on the other man's teeth, reminding him of the night he reminded Keigo to stay away from you. He wondered if his eye looked any better. “How do I look?”

“Like a dollar store werewolf.” Satoru smirked, taking in his friend's torn up flannel and cheap wolf ears (definitely not cat ears) combo.

“Perfect.” Suguru grinned.

“So do you think he told Y/n what happened?” Gojo asked as he put on his vampire cape, finishing his own look. 

“Nope,” Suguru smiled, “That’s the best part. She told me the next day in class that apparently he got mugged by a stranger. She was pissed too.”

“So he kept the secret.” Gojo laughed, “Maybe he isn’t a bird brain after all.” He hummed as the doorbell rang, alerting them to the first wave of guests coming. They made it down the stairs in just enough time to see Nanami and Sukuna open the door for you, Shoko, Mei Mei, and-

Motherfucker.

“Keigo!” Suguru smiled, warm and friendly, as he wrapped an aggressive arm around your date. “I didn't expect to see you here after what happened the other night! Welcome!”

“Hey man, you can’t let one asshole run your life, ya know?” Keigo grinned, playing along despite glaring daggers into the wolfman next to him. 

“You’re so brave.” Gojo sighed with mock irreverence, “Your eye looks terrible.”

“Gee thanks.” Kegio grinned through gritted teeth. “I made it a part of the look.”

“Is the look meant to be a mugging victim?” Gojo asked with a mocking tilt of his head.

“No, he’s a zombie.” You scoffed with a playful eye roll.

“Apparently Mad Hatter was “too cheesy” for him.” Mei Mei tsked. Oooh, an Alice in Wonderland theme. It made sense, Shoko was clearly Alice- meaning Mei Mei was probably the Cheshire Cat and you were The White Rabbit. Suguru was wondering how the other girls convinced you to go out in such a short dress, the satin bunny ears and bowtie reading more Playboy Bunny than The White Rabbit. 

“You all look fantastic ladies, come on in.” He smiled, going to wrap his arm around you to lead you inside. Only for Keigo to intercept him, snatching you away from Suguru’s side and into his own with a swift arm around your waist, making you giggle up at him. Apparently, he wanted another black eye to match his current one. 

Two hours later, and Suguru was considering the ethics of murder. Clearly, knocking a molar out of Keigo Takami’s head wasn’t enough, he needed to be put in the dirt. A fact he was making all too clear by the way he blatantly felt you up, on Suguru’s couch no less. It made his teeth itch to watch, the way you drunkenly swayed into that dirty asshole. How you shyly batted his hand away from the hem of your dress, probably knowing it would be there later anyway. 

“Want me to take care of that fucker for you?” Ryomen asked, having long ditched the Micheal Myers mask and now just looking like a regular blood splattered mechanic. He knew how long Suguru had coveted you, and had no problem looking for a bullshit reason to kick your boyfriend out if it meant his boy got a chance. 

“No, If we kick him out now she’ll just go with him.” Suguru scoffed, taking a drink of his cheap beer. “Honestly, that’s probably what he wants. To get her home and alone.”

“I don’t think they’re gonna wait to get home.” Ryomen grimaced as the two of them watched Keigo slowly try to lead you away to an empty room. Suguru scowled, suddenly understanding Keigo’s game. He could hear that blonde asshole in his head now, laughing in his victory. You want me to stay away from her? What if I fucked her under your roof instead? He felt his damaged fingers twitch, craving violence.

“I’ll be in my room.” Suguru grumbled, making sure to bump into a party goer as he stormed off, begging someone to start a fight with him. Sadly, no one had the balls to try and square up, so he made it to his door with no problem. He sighed as he entered his room, vacuum sealed away from the rest of the party. He felt pathetic as he flopped on his bed. A loser as he pulled his stash out, rolling a joint and turning on the album Pablo Honey by Radiohead. If he was going to be in his sad boy feelings, he was going to commit to the bit.

Creep had just came on when you came sniveling into his room. He wasn’t sure who was more shocked about the situation, him or you. You looked up at him with wide wet eyes that probably should have made him feel some sort of sad, but just made him want to rip that strip of fabric you called a “dress” off you instead.

“Oh, uh, I didn’t expect to find you in here.” You sniffed as you leaned against the door.

“It’s my room?” He asked more than stated. 

“Yeah, and it’s your party too.” You reminded him as you joined him on the bed. He blatantly watched the way your thighs doubled in size as you sat, and desperately wished to be in between them. Drying your tears while he showed you why that asshole you were with now would never compare to him. “I thought you’d be mingling.” You mumbled.  He shrugged and took a drag off of his joint.

“I got bored,” He lied, “Too many jagoffs.” Okay, that was honest. 

“Yeah, tell me about it.” You chuckled humorlessly with a sniffle. He reached out and wiped a tear away with his thumb. 

“Where’s your boyfriend Doll?” He questioned, ignoring the frustration building up inside of him. Where the fuck was that loser? What, was he too much of a “man” to know how to deal with a few tears? Too bad- he was the one that wanted the boyfriend label. Your emotional comfort was his job now, not Suguru’s. 

“He’s not my boyfriend anymore. He got upset when I wouldn’t sleep with him and ended up taking Tinkerbell home.” OH. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry Sweetheart,” He cooed, voice dripping in sincerity as he pulled you into his lap for a warm hug. You accepted gratefully, wrapping your arms around him and shoving your face in the crook of his neck, letting the familiar smell of his soap fill your senses. 

“It’s okay…” You sniffled softly, “You tried to warn me…we weren’t that serious anyway.” You sighed. He massaged gentle circles into the small of your back, holding you close.

“Still, I know it must hurt.” He muttered to you.

“It doesn’t feel good.” You confirmed with a sigh. You watched him take a drag off the joint in his hand. You watched the way his lips wrapped around the paper, felt his chest expand under you, smelled the smoke despite the effort he made to blow it away from you. Something about the performance was mesmerizing. You never really considered drugs before, but now? Knowing they were supposed to make you feel good even when you felt like shit? Your interest was piqued. 

“Does weed taste good?” You asked, catching Suguru off guard mid puff. A laugh turned into a mild coughing fit. You pat his back to help him through it.

“Where did that come from?” He asked with an amused smirk as he caught his breath again.

“I’m just curious about it.” You shrugged, avoiding his gaze in embarrassment as you felt your face heat up. 

“Eh, it depends on the weed really. Different strands taste different.” he explained, ashing the joint into one of the soda cans Gojo left around the room. “Dirt weed tastes like dirt.” 

“What does that one taste like?” You asked, pointing at the spliff in his hand. He shrugged.

“Hard to explain. Why, you wanna try it?” He asked with a soft grin. Your face felt like it was on fire, hiding half of it in his chest and shrugging with one shoulder. 

“I mean…kinda.” You confessed. Suguru tried to figure out when Halloween passed and Christmas came, because normally a gift like this required a Christmas miracle to make happen. He handed you the joint, placing it between your thumb and pointer finger. He watched with intense eyes as you brought it up to your face.

“Um, so…Is there anything like, special I’m supposed to do here, or?” You sheepishly asked, and Suguru had to slightly adjust your position on his lap so you didn’t feel his hard on. God you were perfect. A soft innocence clung to you, one even that dirty asshole Keigo couldn’t taint, but Suguru knew he could decimate. 

“Just take a deep breath,” He said, taking your hand and guiding the joint to your lips, “Hold it for a few seconds in your lungs, then let it out.” He instructed. You tried to do what he said, sucking in hard and deep, like you were trying to impress him. Turns out, weed tastes like fire. The smoke barely hit your lungs before the burn burst out from you, lighting an inferno in your throat as you attempted to cough your lungs out. 

“Whoa, slow down there Puff!” He laughed, leaning over and pulling a water bottle from the mini fridge he used as a nightstand. “You’re gonna green out if you keep that up.” He took the joint and opened the bottle for you, watching as you tried to waterboard yourself to sooth your ragged throat. 

“Why do people enjoy that?!” You gasped as you finally came up for air. 

“Normally they don’t try to smoke half a joint in one drag,” He teased you gently, rubbing your back as you shook your head. “Here, let’s try a softer approach, okay?”

“Okay…” You muttered hesitantly. You hated that burn, but you were curious what he had in mind to make it gentler. You watched him bring the joint to his own lips, taking a deep breath before balancing the joint on one of the soda cans. He turned your head to face him. 

You didn’t even realize what was happening until his mouth was on yours, soft and sweet, coaxing your lips to part. Despite your better judgment, you leaned into the kiss, opening your mouth for him, letting the smoke pour from his lungs and into yours. He was right, it was softer this time. The burn was mellowed from him taking it in first, giving you room to taste the earthy- almost piney flavor of the weed. You were able to hold it in your lungs longer this time, if for no other reason than because the kiss forced you too. 

As he pulled back, you blew out the gray fumes, coughing a little, but not nearly as much as you did last time. Oh, okay, you got it now. “See?” He purred as he watched you watch the smoke, “You’re token’ like a pro now.”

“I feel light headed,” You confessed as you leaned into him, “And heavy.” He was a little shocked it was already starting to hit you, but then again, you probably didn’t have a lot of experience with…well anything.

“Makes sense. It’s an Indica strain.” He informed you as he repositioned you in his lap, pressing your back to his chest. 

“What does that mean?” You asked as you watched him pick up the almost dead joint again.

“It just means it mellows you out,” He gave the short version, not really having the time or the patience to give you a thorough run down of cannabis strains. At least not right now. “Want to try the joint again?” He asked. You shook your head.

“Absolutely not.” You said, not wanting to feel your lungs explode again. 

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He said as he took another puff off the joint, killing it this time and shoving it into the ashtray formerly known as soda can. He leaned down and pressed another kiss to you. You focused more on him than the smoke this time. On the way his lips moved hungrily against yours, on the way you could taste vodka and redbull on his tongue-subtle under the taste of weed. On the way his hand found the hem of your dress, teasing it in between his fingers before massaging your inner thigh. 

“Sug,” You giggled as you let the burning smoke out, squirming under his touch and pushing yourself further into his lap to try and make some distance between your skin and his hand, “What are you doing?”

“I’m just trying to make you feel good Sweetheart,” He purred, “What, did Keigo not touch you like this?” That had more edge to it than he intended, not that you noticed.

“No, he didn’t.” You admitted with a chuckle. Apparently you got the giggles when high. Your little confession went straight to Suguru’s cock though. He knew you were a good girl, saving yourself for him even before you knew you were his. 

“Probably for the best.” He laughed, moving his hand further up your inner thigh, making you gasp slightly. “He probably wouldn’t even know what to do once he got your panties down.” He huffed, “Or worse, bust in ten seconds and leave you unsatisfied.”

“Sug,” You sighed, having so much to say but not enough brain function to say it. He felt your thighs tremble under his hand and his heartbeat speed up with it. He had to have you or he was going to lose his mind. “Be nice…” You mumbled.

“And why should I be?” He asked, hand now slipping under your incredibly short dress, touching you in places you had never been touched before. “He wasn’t nice to you. I’d take such good care of you baby…” His lips were on your neck now, sending rolling waves of electricity down the column of your spine. You pressed your thighs together, unwittingly trapping his hand there and doing yourself no favors. You could feel yourself getting uncomfortably wet.

“Promise?..” You muttered. He had been sweet to you these last few months, and he had been actively pursuing you for this long- maybe Shoko was wrong this time. 

“Swear.” He whispered into your neck before kissing it with a force, surly leaving a purple bruise in his wake. “Let me show you…” He said as his other hand came up to massage your right breast. You took a deep breath, trying to think through what was happening and the consequences of your actions. You didn’t get very far. All you could think about was the way your buzzing skin reacted to his warm touch, and the anticipation building in between your legs. Your body had no idea how to handle all of this brand new stimulation. 

You took a deep breath, then nodded. “Okay.” You whimpered as you let your legs fall open for him. Suguru didn’t hesitate to drag a thick finger along your clothed slit, making you hiss and bite your lip.

“You like that Doll?” He asked, pushing your panties to the side and sliding two fingers in between your folds, brushing past the nub of nerves he found there. Pleasure jolted from the light touch, electrifying you and making you buck your hips into him for more. You nodded earnestly, desperate to explore this new sensation.  “Talk to me beautiful.” he warned. 

“Yes…” You gasped, melting into his broad chest as he ran two fingers over your sex, gracing your clit yet again.

“Want to feel even better?”  He purred and you nodded.

“Uh huh…” Your body tensed, your walls clenching as he bullied two fingers into you, trying to push out the sudden intrusion. He groaned as he felt you tremble around his digits, mouth watering at the thought of feeling it around his cock. He bucked his hips up into you, not bothering to hide the hard on you gave him anymore.

You moaned, breathing deep as you tried to adjust to the new feeling. Pleasure exploded in you as he curled his fingers up, touching your g-spot with a precision you could never manage. “You’re soaked baby girl,” He hummed as he worked his fingers inside of you, pressing his palm to your clit, moving in time and intensifying everything you felt. “Is all of this for me Doll?”

“Geto…” You moaned, your pretty sighs being music to his ears as you lazily rolled your hips in time with his fingers. Pleasure flooded your system, combining with your buzzing, heavy skin and light head to create a sensation that left you floating in the ninth dimension. You felt your stomach tighten in anticipation, and your legs start to tremble. You lugged your hand up to the back of his head, tangling your fingers into his long hair for support. 

“You sound so pretty when you say my name…” He moaned, leaving a trail of his marks down your neck, obvious evidence that you were his and his alone. 

“Geto, I’m-” You whined softly as you felt a wave of euphoria roll through your body as the pressure came to a tipping point. You looked up at him with wide desperate eyes and whined, feeling the electricity bubble and pop inside of you threatening to explode.

“Cum for me sweetheart,” He groaned, coaxing your climax out of you with every stroke of his fingers, “Cum all over me.” It was like your body was under some sort of spell, forced to act upon his will. The pressure finally exploding inside of you, sending a surge of ecstasy and fire through your body, hitting you with intense wave after wave of bliss. Your legs trembled from the intensity of it as you tried to catch your breath. Your hands fell from his hair and to his sides, digging your nails into Suguru as you desperately tried to ground yourself.

“You’re so fucking pretty when you cum, do you know that?” He hummed, removing his fingers from your cunt and placing them in your mouth. You got the hint, sucking them clean with earnest. His breath caught in his throat as you did, your eagerness catching him kinda off guard. He took his digits out of your mouth. You felt Suguru push you forward, using one hand to keep you from folding in half and the other to pull the zipper of your costume down. You’re pretty sure he unhooked your bra while he was back there, too. 

From there it wasn’t hard for him to lay you on the bed and pull the strapless dress off of you. You whined softly as he pulled your bra off your chest. You tried to lift a hand up to undress him, but your body felt so heavy it was hard to move. He caught your hand and pressed a kiss to your wrist.

“Let me take care of you Sweetheart,” He winked, “You just relax.” He rested your hand on your chest before ripping off his cheap flannel and tattered thrift store jeans. He was back in between your legs before you could fully process what was happening. You felt your mouth dry at the sight. Or maybe it was another side effect of the weed. Either way, he looked like a Greek god. 

His long, normally perfect hair was messy, frizzy and sweat stuck to his face. His honey brown eyes were dark with carnal desire. His thick cock was standing at full alert, angry and already dripping against his abs. The sight of it made your stomach explode with nerves, and your chest tightened as you realized he planned to shove all of that into you.

“S’ big..” You slurred, shaking your head. He chuckled softly, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Awe, thanks sweetheart.”

“It’s not gonna fit Geto...” You whimpered to him, “Not for the first time..” Awe, you were so cute, it almost made Suguru’s heart skip a beat. Almost. More than anything else, the innocence in your watery red eyes coupled with your kiss swollen lips made him all the more eager to prove you wrong. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll fit,” He assured you, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. Of course he was going to fit, you were made for him. He pulled your hips to his, massaging your hips with his thumbs as he lined you up. He sunk his hips in and-

Oh Fuck.

Your cunt was more intoxicating than a shot of heroin straight into the bloodstream. You were warm and soft, velvety walls contracting around him and pulling him impossibly deep. Your soft whines as your thighs wrapped around him, trying to ground yourself and pull him closer all at the same time was better than opium. Fuck drugs, nothing was ever going to top this. 

“Fuck sweetheart, you’re perfect.” He groaned into your ear, pulling back and brushing against your sweet spot so perfectly. You whined under him, your nails found his back and clawed into him, leaving scarlet crescent moons in his back as evidence of your presence in his bed. You had never felt so full and perfectly stretched at the same time. A fire split you down the middle, burning away the pain and leaving only an intense pleasure in its wake, one you knew no toy would ever be able to replicate. 

His blunt nails bruised your hips as he fought to stay still, trying to respect that this was your first time. You fucked that up though with a soft buck of your hips, silently giving him the green light to move. And move he did, desperately chasing his high as he dragged his cock in and out of your weeping cunt. You watched as his eyes glazed over and his face flushed, aiming every thrust of his hips to perfectly hit your g-spot and pull another sangria sweet moan from your mouth.

Geto had imagined what your pussy would feel like before. Countless times late at night, with his shirt between his teeth as he wished his hand was you. A few times with girls who looked kinda like you at a party, where half way through he’d have to shove her face in the pillow, and close his eyes to see your face. Hell, he had even imagined it a few times when he was drunkenly fucking Satoru’s throat. None of it could even come close to the euphoria he got from the actual thing. 

He was convinced your pussy was actually made for him. The way your walls perfectly fit him, warm and weeping, begging him to fuck you. His pace was brutally set, every thrust in making you flutter around him and his spine shiver. He wasn’t going to last nearly as long as he wanted and that thought was driving him mad.

“Fuck, pretty girl, you were made for me,” He slurred softly into your ear, “You feel so fucking amazing, so good. I knew you had a slut in you,” He huffed a soft chuckle, “And it’s all for me, isn’t it Doll? Who else could make you feel this good?”

“No one, all yours..” You moaned, trying to keep up with him, but faltering as you fought against wave after wave after wave of euphoria crashing into your senses. Your nervous system was fried beyond belief at this point, asking you to speak was just inhumane.

“Atta girl,” He praised as his hand reached down to massage your clit, setting even more fireworks off inside of your veins and behind your eyes. He wanted you- No, he needed you, carnally. Something inside him wasn’t going to be able to function anymore if he didn’t have you by his side. He could feel the chemicals in his brain reworking themselves in real time, his body flushed and buzzed with desire. The world could be crumbling around the two of your right now and he doubted he’d even notice. 

The coil that was forming inside of you was tightening at an alarming rate, your pussy already sensitive from coming once before. Your body reacted to Suguru in ways it hadn’t reacted to anything or anyone before, and it left you feeling like you were on fire as you got lost in the feelings between your legs. You felt your muscles tighten and contract, and you tried to warn him, you truly did. 

Before you could even open your mouth to form the words though, the coil snapped, opening the floodgates to a sea of pleasure that overrode any of your higher cognitive power. It was like lightning had struck, your buzzing body being electrocuted to life as dopamine and ecstasy exploded out of your brain and into your nervous system, leaving you shaking and trembling as (you think) you yelled out his name.

Suguru didn’t let up for even a second, watching the way your face contorted and scrunched in pleasure. It was an image he wanted in his mind for the rest of time. “‘M gonna cum,” He huffed, trying to find his own ability to speak, “‘gonna cum so hard, let me cum inside, baby. Please, please, let me have you...” You whined almost pathetically under him, the pleasure from your ongoing orgasm becoming almost painful with Geto’s refusal to let up. His hand finally left your clit, trying to find stability on the pillow to try and brace himself for his own oncoming high.

Only for you to intertwine your fingers with his. Letting him press your hand into the cushion under your head, your angelic doe eyes filled with pleasure induced tears and lust and what he wanted to believe was love, met his own. His eyes, filled with need and desire, and unadulterated adoration. Your lips quivered when they parted.

“S-Suguru…” You whimpered softly.

He came the hardest that he had ever cum in his life. Right then and there, deep inside you. He had to throw his head down and bite your shoulder to keep the rest of this party from hearing the expletives that spewed from his mouth, mixed with your name and words of praise. He was thankful even now he could hear the music from the festivities, hopefully none of them heard the two of you together. Those sounds were only for him.

He was breathing hard, but not nearly as hard as you. He barely kept himself from collapsing on top of you. “You still with me Sweetheart?” 

“Yeah…I’m with you…” You nodded out with a soft nod. He forced himself to pull out, and you wanted to bite him for doing it. You went from feeling full and complete to more empty than you ever had in your life, and you hated it. He hummed softly as he collapsed next to you, and pulled you tight against his chest. “I’m so tired..” You muttered.

He kissed your forehead. “Then get some sleep, Doll. I got you.” He assured you as he cuddled up next to you, feeling particularly tired himself.

“You’re gonna leave…” You whimpered, regret started to seep in as you remembered what kept you from ever doing this in the first place. Suguru adamantly shook his head, gently pulling your head up to look him in the eyes.

“No baby, I promise. I’m not going anywhere.” And for as many times as he had used that line in the past, for the first time in his entire life, he truly thought meant it. 

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・ Taglist ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

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[kissagii]

Your brothers are dumb, but Isagi is always your number one fan.

cw: gender neutral reader, 2.4k words, reader is rin & sae's musically gifted sibling, silly isagi, obscene amounts of pining, i don't know how music competitions work lol

@celestair it's here!!!! thank you so much for the fabulous prompt <3

“So, you’re on next, how do you feel?” Your friend Yuki asks, giving you a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder. The performer before you is wrapping up his piece, and your turn on stage is approaching far too quickly.

“Were they there?” You whisper, completely ignoring her question. 

“Didn’t see ‘em,” Yuki sighs, “But hey, you can’t see anything from up on that stage, don’t give up just yet.”

Despite her attempts at encouragement, you both know the truth. They aren’t there. They never are. Even now, as you prepare to step onstage in the final round of a national piano competition, your two soccer-obsessed brothers are nowhere to be found. You should’ve expected that from the start when the most they could offer to your invitation was “ok.” 

How many soccer games have you attended by now? How many hours have you spent in the sweltering heat, watching your brothers run up and down a field kicking a ball around? And despite all that, they have yet to deem one of your music events as worth their time. You’re half sure the reason they neglected to arrive was because neither one would be caught dead sitting in the same room as the other. It’s always a competition with those two – a test to see who could be the better soccer player, the worse brother – and you’re simply caught in the crossfire as you pursue your own wholly different passions. 

But now, unfortunately, there’s only one thing to do: go out on stage, play your heart out, and hope that maybe, just maybe, you’ll get a scrap of recognition from one of the fools who shared your last name. 

“Break a leg. And don’t let your shitty brothers get to you,” Yuki says, nudging you out onto the stage as the previous performer exited past you.

When you walk onstage there is no announcement of your name, no applause. There never is. Just a silence so thick it could be cut with a knife as the audience watches with judging eyes, anticipating eyes, and… hopeful eyes? The stage feels different today, fresh and pleasantly cool, as if the crushing expectations are lifted ever so slightly.

Then you see him. It’s just a glance, an impression of an individual, a hint of green and black in your periphery. But when he sees you it’s earth-shattering. He can breathe again – but only one barely-muffled gasp, because you’re quick to steal the air from his lungs as his heart begins to inexplicably race. Isagi has been in the same audience seat many times by now – the same seat every time, for his favorite view – yet every time he sees you walk out onto that stage it’s like rebirth, a preparation for the waves of joy and sadness and admiration and, dare he say it, love, that would wash over him as you played. All he has to hope is that you know he’s there, watching like he always is. And for the first time, you know – you deeply, truly, know – someone is out there watching you.

For this competition, you chose Liszt’s Un Sospiro. After mastering the technique, you spent hours of practice imbuing the piece with a thousand emotions, a thousand ways to sigh, and yet none of them felt quite right. So in the ten seconds before your fingers hit the keys, you have a decision to make.

Yoichi.

Of course, how could you forget? 

Without a moment’s hesitation, you begin to play, the notes dancing with the image in your mind. Simply the thought of him makes your heart race in time with the arpeggios, your measured breaths falling out of time as you let the music wash over you. The emotion flows so naturally you’re not sure if you’re pushing them into the music or if the music is pulling them out of you, a different one for each phrase, the joy and fear and longing and hope and desperation. You could practically see them, figures of light in every color dancing together across the stage and out into the audience, seeking out their target. 

They more than find their target: they crash into him like unceasing waves. Each one slightly different than the last, yet all so familiar; a language without words, yet each phrase he understands clearly. 

Is it five minutes, one, or thirty? Time begins to blur, everything fading to soft pink and green and orange and blue, colors and sounds existing independently of earthly constraints. It’s transcendental, almost, the room immersed in a lovestruck state of reverie until the final notes echo through the auditorium.  

By the end of the piece his chest is aching, and yours is aching too. The exhilaration hardly makes sense – were you not full of worry only minutes ago? Or had it been an eternity since anything other than Yoichi was on your mind? Adrenaline pulsing through your veins makes your head spin as you attempt to process your own performance. Oh, how unreal it felt. It had been a long time since you last felt so moved by your own playing… yes, truly a long time. 

The audience applauds with the required politeness, if not a bit louder than usual. None of it falls on your ears, though. You’re too busy staring at Isagi’s distant face as he gazes back at you with sparkling cobalt eyes. He nearly forgets to clap, sitting so unblinkingly still that those in the seats next to him wonder if he’s alright. He’s more than alright – his mind is racing in the same way it does when he scores a goal, and it’s taking every ounce of self-control he has to keep him from running to you now. 

As soon as you’re backstage, Yuki barrels into you, earning a few miffed glares from the last few performers preparing to go on. “Oh my god, that was amazing!” She whisper-yells, “I’ve never heard you play like that! See, I knew you’d do just fine without them in the audience.” 

Right. Them. You had forgotten about them while onstage. 

“I think I’ve found someone else worth playing for,” You murmur, half to yourself. For the first time, you didn’t really mind that your brothers hadn’t been there. Of course, it would’ve been nice, but without them… without them, you had made magic. You can make magic.

Yuki smiles brightly, the way she always does. “You’ve gotta tell me everything. And quickly, so as soon as this shindig is over you can head out and see your loverboy.”

“How’d you know that’s what it was?”

“Trust me, it was obvious. I’m pretty sure everyone knew.”

So, of course, you tell her everything. And as soon as the final round of applause echoes down the hallway, you’re getting pushed toward the door, standing nervously in the auditorium lobby until a familiar face emerges from the exit doors.

You see him first, which means you get to watch in real-time as he sees you and immediately lights up like a kid in a candy store. It’s his third epiphany of the day, and the only thing he can think to do is run toward you, frantically apologizing to strangers as he weaves through the crowd. Before you can even greet him or thank him for coming, he thrusts a large bouquet of flowers into your hands.

“You did amazing! Your music is like magic and I think I might be in love with you!” Isagi blurts out.

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry, that was probably tactless. No, it was definitely tactless. I’m sorry. It’s just, I saw you up there and I heard you play and it was like the music was talking to me and it was saying, oh, by the way, you have feelings for them and it’s actually ridiculous that you didn’t notice earlier because you’re absolutely whipped, y’know? Is that weird?”

You can’t help but chuckle at his unrestrained reaction, the genuineness in his tone. “No, it’s not weird at all.”

“It’s not?” He asks, breathing out a sigh of relief.

“Of course not. It means you heard what I was trying to tell you.”

It’s his turn to be surprised, and he lets out a soft, confused, “Eh?”

“I knew I wouldn’t be able to confess to you directly, so I did it the only way I knew how. Yoichi, will you go out with me?” 

“Yes! Absolutely!” He beams, smiling wider than you’ve ever seen him smile before; little wrinkles appear next to his eyes and his slightly crooked teeth are on full display. Shyly, he asks: “Could I hug you?”

“Please do,” you say, opening your arms to let him wrap his tightly around you. For a moment you stand in silence (not true silence, of course, because the room is full of people) and feel his heartbeat hammering against your chest. He feels your heartbeat too, he swears he can hear it over the noise.

“Thank you for coming, Yoichi,” You whisper, gripping the flower bouquet tightly, “It means a lot to me that you could be here.”

He hugs you tighter, so tight it feels like your ribs might crack in his grip. “Of course. You always come to my big games, there’s no way I’d let myself miss one of your big events. Speaking of that, do you know when the results come out?”

Though you’d like to keep hugging him forever, you let go and check the time.

“They’ll let us back into the auditorium in an hour, though they never seem to announce the winners on time.”

“In that case, can I take you out on a date while we wait? Unless you already made plans to wait with someone else… ahh, I really should’ve thought this out more.” Isagi scratches the back of his neck with an awkward smile, a nervous habit of his that never seems to lose its charm.

“Oh, no, I don’t have plans. I’m sure Yuki’s already gone off with her boyfriend, and you’re the only person I really know who showed up to watch. Spending the hour with you is a serious step up from waiting alone.” 

“Let’s go then! There’s a cute café just down the road if you’re hungry, or we could go walk around the mall if you’d prefer.” 

Isagi lets you lead for the hour, making it a bit of an early celebration. Because while the results aren’t out just yet, he’s entirely sure that your performance is worth a hundred gold medals and more. Anything you want to do is good enough for him, even if it’s something as simple as window shopping in formal wear, and he does everything in his power to make sure he’s the best new boyfriend possible. After all, he’s won at life, hasn’t he? Because now he gets to date you – he gets to give you flowers and cheer for you and hold your hand and make you smile. 

As you sit in the adjacent seats waiting for the results to be announced, he rubs his finger affectionately over your thumb. 

“See, I told you they’d start late,” You whisper with a laugh.

“They must’ve realized their trophy wasn’t big enough to properly congratulate you,” He whispers back.

“Hey, don’t say things like that! I haven’t won yet.” 

“I don’t think you witnessed yourself perform. You did amazing.”

“And you’re not a musician, so you’re not qualified to decide who won.”

“Even an untrained ear can tell you were the best up there. Trust me.”

Before you can come up with a witty reply, the head judge steps up to the podium on stage, holding a single sheet of paper in her hand. She gives a short speech – something about appreciating the hard work of the competitors – but neither you nor Isagi hear half of what she says. The room is silent waiting for the top three to be announced. 

“In third place,” The Judge calmly says into the microphone, “Matsuoka Yuki.”

Immediately you burst into cheers, hastily untangling your hand from Isagi’s so you can applaud your friend. Her performance had been stunning, and she’s more than deserving of the prestigious accomplishment. 

“In second place,” The Judge continues, once the applause quiets down, “Watanabe Shigeru.”

Another talented performer, of course. He had won his fair share of competitions, and the two of you had stood together on the winner’s stage more than once. As soon as you finish applauding, Isagi grabs your hand and squeezes tightly, as if to say the Judge will call your name next, I just know she will.

The moment you spent months waiting for is here. Either your hours of rehearsal and stress and aching hands paid off, or they didn’t. And the only thing between you and knowing was one sentence from the Head Judge’s mouth.

“Finally, in first place, winner of the Japan National Piano Competition, Itoshi Y/n.”

I’ve won. It’s as if you’re up on that stage once more, the way that the room explodes into applause like thunder. Isagi is shouting and shaking you by the shoulders – he really couldn’t be prouder of you. He knew all along, it seems, that your indirect confession was worth a gold medal from the organization and a thousand more in his heart.

The head judge invites the winners up to the stage, and Isagi nearly pushes you out of your seat to receive your award. Yuki meets you onstage, whispering her polite but excited congratulations to you. You return them hurriedly before taking your place on stage to be presented with your trophy. The process of handshakes and photographs feels like it takes forever when all you and Isagi want is to spend the rest of the afternoon together in celebration. 

Isagi meets you in the auditorium lobby again, and he presents you with the same bouquet of flowers a second time. “You won! You actually won! I’m so proud of you!” 

“Thank you, Yoichi,” You say, grasping his hand with your free one, “Thank you for being here to inspire me. Now c’mon, let’s go celebrate!”

The rest of the afternoon is blissful, almost unreal, just you and Isagi enjoying the sweetness of victory and love. When your phone begins receiving text message after text message you can hardly be bothered to reply immediately, even when you get the message you nearly spent the whole day waiting for.

rin: good job on the competition or wtv

isagi 💚

[cindylouwhooo]

Chapter One

Gigi’ POV

There’s something about the spring breeze that instantly calms me.

Well, it usually does.

Now I’m just a ball of anxiety, counting down the seconds until I explode.

I’ve been in the studio for the past three days, wasting the time of my producer and assistant during the day, and getting no sleep while twiddling my thumbs and kidding myself that I can write another album at night.

I thought building a recording studio in my Monaco apartment while I stay here would help me. It hasn’t. At all.

And now I’m standing on my balcony, staring out on the packs of people running around the streets trying to get the place ready for the Grand Prix, contemplating whether I could be a good driver—well, just enough to quit my singing career.

I don’t mind the category; I could do F4. F1 Academy too. I’m really simple.

I drop my head on my hand and groan, just when my phone starts ringing from my back pocket.

“What?”

“Tell me you’ve written something.” Ally, my agent, demands through the device.

“I’ve written something.”

“Okay.” She sighs out. “Now tell me the truth.”

“I’m thinking ways of becoming a Formula 4 driver. Do we still have Susie Wolf’s number?”

“Gigi.”

“Ally, I’m serious. I don’t think I have another one in me.”

Ally starts yapping about something, and I put her on speaker while opening Twitter on my phone.

gigimymother

@gigisantos GIRL!!! RECKLESS THREE YEAR ANNIVERSARY IS COMING!!!! WHEN’S THE NEW ONE????

santoslover

@gigisantos delulu is the solulu cause i still think Gigi is surprising us with a new album on Reckless anniversary…

—> gigifan girl be ffr she’s forgotten all about us

—> santoslover shut up

—> dannylovesgigi SAME!! i do also believe my ex is still in love with me sooooo

—> sandyford absolutely not, she is SO over…fame got to her and she thinks two mediocre albums are enough to stay rich 🤑

dannylovesgigi

y’all why’s the tl saying Gigi quit music???

“Were my albums mediocre?”

“G, get off Twitter for fuck’s sake and listen to what I’m saying.” I do as she says, mainly because I’m pretty sure she’ll fly from Toronto and strangle me if I don’t. “Time is ticking. And not in your favour. There’s so much i can do to keep you afloat.”

It’s the same speech. Over and over.

The same speech that I hear every time I pick up the phone from her call. The same speech that drove me away from Toronto and onto Monaco and the same speech that has drenched all the inspiration from me. I don’t have anything to write about, no words to turn into a song. And with every speech I hear, I don’t even want to try.

It’s draining. I hate it.

“Look, I know it’s difficult but you have to have something.”

I want to cry, I really do because her desperation is so evident in her voice. She believes in me too much and it’s gonna hurt when I disappoint her at the end of the summer.

The phone vibrates against my ear a couple of times and I take that chance to get out of the phone call with my doomed future.

“I gotta go, Ally. Something’s come up. I’ll call you later, okay?”

I end the call before she can butt in and let out the longest sigh in the history of the world. I see my best friend’s name on the screen of the phone and inevitably smile the biggest smile at the words on her text.

francis the king

you, me, alcohol 🍷

tonight

no is not a good enough answer

~ ~ ~

Strangely, the sweaty, already drunk people distantly surrounding our table made my mood quite quickly. Flashes of light spark every other second and I’ve become all too aware of the fact that it’s my first public viewing in a while.

My best friend is nursing on her drink while rolling her eyes at her boyfriend that’s on the phone with her, and I giggle at her facial expressions.

She’s incredibly in love, yet acts like Pierre is bothering her on a girl’s night out.

“Yes, I’ll call you at the end of our night…no we won’t call an UBER…okay, okay. Bye.” She ends the call abruptly and with the biggest, most dramatic sigh. “Okay, now we can start having fun.”

“I was already having fun.” I giggle.

Spending time with Francisca is honestly the only time I feel without the baggage of the third album looming over me. The bartender brings us the second round, and two extra shots on the house, accompanied with a wink for both of us.

“He’s cute.” Kika whisper-yells close to my ear over the loud music.

“Uh, oh. Trouble in paradise with Pierre?”

She rolls her eyes and slumps on my shoulder. “I meant you, dumbass.”

I know she did. But no.

It’s not like I’m cancelling love out of my life, but even entertaining the thought of going through the stages of finding someone and everything that happens after I’ve found someone decent, makes me want to hurl.

“The only man in my life is the imaginary one I created in the studio in order to spike my inspiration to write that damn album. His name is Tim.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Am not!”

“Shut up and drink.”

“Amen.”

~ ~ ~

Four rounds and five shots each later, we’re laughing at our lives and wiping the runny mascara that’s dripping on our cheeks. I don’t know what time it is but I can definitely feel the early stages of a good hangover that I’ll be having once I wake up.

But I wouldn’t change it for the world. Because four rounds and five shots later, I feel ten times better than I did when Ally called me earlier. And not because of the alcohol, but because Kika has lectured the insecurities out of me. She spent our girls night out talking to me and listening to me go on and on about my block and the expectations I’ve put for myself—I talked about shit I wouldn’t admit out loud.

At the end of the night, we’re clutching each other outside of the club and laughing so loud, heads are turning to look at us.

“Jesus, your boyfriend might be fast on track but he’s taking his sweet time getting here.” I pout and drop my head on Kika’s shoulder. “If I make a joke, like, ‘didn’t know you were as slow as your single seater’ will he cry?”

Kika laughs as she slips and grabs me tighter to not fall. “Yeah, he’ll probably cry.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Well, now I feel betrayed.” Pierre’s voice reaches us and Kika bounces off me to jump on him. He grabs her immediately and twirls her around, breaking my heart and making me the happiest person at the same time.

gigisantos …

gigisantos girls night was a success 🍷🍾🎉 @francisca.cgomez

Liked by landonorris, pierregasly and 893,409 more

gigiismother give us the new album!!!!!

santosloverrrr girl, get in the studio

pierregasly thank god i arrived in time

—> gigi @pierregasly shut up tripod

gigisantoslvr love her relationship with pierre 😍

f1fanlover why’s lando in the likes???

—> gigigigi because she’s friends with the drivers?

—> f1fanlover yea but they barely speak

francisca.cgomez my soulmate ❤️

As I drop my still clothed body on my bed, a million lyrics fly through my head. Melodies and words swirl in my alcohol infused mind, suffocating me at once and frustrating me as I forget one by one in the aftermath of a night out at the club.

~ ~ ~

[hughes86-43]

Sweet Treat pt. 2 | J.Hughes

first part here

requested: yes by anon :) lmk if you liked it!

warnings - none, I don’t think! just lots of cheesiness and fluff!

You just unlocked the door to your coffee shop, walking in you place all your bags on a nearby table so you could lock the door back. Taking your bags, you make your way to the front counter so you could start playing the low-fi beats playlist you like to play while getting everything turned on and started for the day.

Once you get the music going, you place your bags in your office. Looking at the clock, 6:15 am, knowing it’s now time to get to work, you wash your hands and throw an apron on and start getting all the pastries ready for the display case. Then after that, you move onto starting up the espresso machines and prepping the brewed coffee.

Looking at the clock again, it’s now 6:50, you see your co-worker Emily approaching the front door. She’s one of your best workers, having started working here from the beginning, and you’re so thankful for how hard she works. Once she gets inside, you say, “Good morning! Exciting day ahead!”

Today is the one year anniversary of the shop opening. All your hard work in getting the place up and running has finally paid off as business has constantly been booming in the last year. Thinking back to the opening day, you were so nervous it wouldn’t go well, but things have a way of surprising you, and everything has gone soothingly. Not to mention, it’s also been a year since you met your very cute boyfriend, Jack, who fell in love with you the moment he stepped into the shop that day. You remember how he was so clueless on what to order, so you suggested your favorite drink, and then you guys exchanged numbers. And it’s been nothing but up from there. You both are now desperately in love with each other.

Anytime that he can, he is always in the shop, and he usually brings either Luke or one of his teammates. Sometimes he is a distraction from what you need to get done, but you love when he comes by. He has been nothing but supportive and proud of how good of a job you have done with opening a business. He also never fails to tell anyone that he meets about your business and how successful you are. You truly don’t know what you would do without him. He makes it all easier, even though you met only a year ago and have been officially together for almost a year.

Emily pulls you from your thoughts, by clapping her hands, “Woo! One year!” She practically lives and breathes this shop the same amount as you do.

“I can’t believe it’s been a year already!” You finish up making both of your guys’ coffees, “Here, we need all the caffeine we can get today, if all goes well.”

She waves you off by saying, “Oh shush, you say that all the time, everything is going to go well.” You have been known to freak out about whether or not sales are going to go well on days, everyone knows this in the shop, and especially Jack knows your endless concerns about it. He does his best to reassure you each time, but so does your co-workers.

“I know, I know, I just can’t help but to freak out. Anyway, let’s finish up prepping and then it should be time to open.” You were promoting $3 lattes today with a purchase of a pastry, so you had to make sure everything was prepped with back ups.

Once all was ready, you turn on the main shop lights as well as the open sign and unlock the door. Within 15 minutes, customers have piled in at constant pace. And within another hour, you’ve already sold a whole tray of pastries. You and your co-workers have been working hard the last hour.

While you were busy in the back getting another tray ready, you hear Emily call from the front, “Y/N! Come here, a cute guy is here to see you!”

Instantly knowing it is Jack, you take off your apron and dust the flour from your hands and make it to the register. He’s standing there wearing jeans, a hoodie, and a jacket over the hoodie, and of course his outfit isn’t complete without the beanie on his head. Once you get done moving your eyes over his body, you notice he is holding two bouquets of flowers. You smile, knowing it’s most definitely reaching your eyes, you say, “Hi, babe! What are you doing here? I thought you had morning skate?” You act all shy now.

He laughs, “Love, it’s the one year anniversary of your shop opening, why else would I be here? As for morning skate, I skipped it, I think I’ll still be okay for the game tonight with skipping it” You shake your head while still beaming at him, and he continues, “But mostly I had to see my successful business owner girlfriend in all her glory!”

Feeling your cheeks getting red from his praise, you go around the counter and hug him. Pulling back from him, but not without a kiss to his cheek, you say, “Thank you for stopping by! Now what are the flowers for?”

“Well, the smaller one is for the anniversary of the shop. Look, I even got the lady to help match the colors to the colors of the shop!” Once he says that, you give him another hug, feeling overwhelmed with how thoughtful he is, even though it was surely his mom who suggested it.

“Aw, I love them, I’ll put them by the register!” You take them from his hand and go back to the register. You take the flowers that were already in the vase and throw them to the side, and then you put the ones he just got you in the vase. They matched perfectly.

When you’re done with putting those flowers away, he starts to continue about the others flowers, but is interrupted by the front door opening and customers coming. Emily noticing this, tells you it’s fine and that she can handle the front for a bit. Taking her up on that, you grab Jack’s hand and bring him to your office in the back and shut the door.

You give him a nod to continue. “Now these flowers are for you, since it’s been one year since I walked into this shop and instantly fell in love with the super cute owner,” He gives you a wink, “and now a year later, I couldn’t imagine my life without her.” He hands the flowers to you, you take them and awe over how beautiful they are, and then place them on your desk. You stand there for moment, completely blown away from how sappy his words were and how much love he has for you. You could cry just from what he said.

You wrap your arms around his neck and he places his hands on your hips, and you both stare into each other’s eyes with so much adoration. Now it’s your turn to be sappy, “Thank you, Jack, for everything. This last year since meeting you had been nothing but amazing. I love you so much.” He gives you a huge grin, and pulls you closer.

“I love you so much,” He says as he leans forward and kisses you. You deepen the kiss, savoring his every touch and feel on you. You both stay that way for a bit before pulling apart.

Still wrapped up in a hug, you lift your head up from his chest, with a smug look on your face, you say, “Remember when you fell while walking out the door after getting my number?”

That instantly has him shaking his head, trying to play it off, “Hey! I think I played that fall off pretty well, and I got your number!” You think back to how he fell and then turned around making sure you didn’t notice, but you did and upon that, he just waved at you and walked out the door.

“Hmm I guess you did,” shrugging your shoulders playfully.

“Whatever! You still ended up with me, despite that fall!”

“Yeah, I guess I did, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.” You say once again staring into his loving eyes. He gives you a peck on the nose, cheek, forehead, and then finally on your lips.

Knowing you need to get back to work, you give him one more big hug, and say, “Okay, as much as I now don’t want to, I do have to get back to work. Ya know, since I’m so successful?” You laugh, pulling away from him, making your way to the door.

Before you could get to far from him, he gives you small smack on the butt. “You know it baby! Don’t forget it, ever!” You love how much he believes in you and how proud he is of you.

Opening the door for you, he asks, “I’ll see you after the game tonight?”

Giving him an affirmative nod. “Yes, I’ll be at the game. I already packed a change of clothes so I can change before I leave here and I brought your jersey to wear.”

You didn’t think his smile could get any bigger, but it does. “Can’t wait to see you after, especially in my jersey. Are you coming back to my place after?” Not officially living together yet, you guys go back and forth to each other places when you can.

Walking into the front of the shop, you say back, “Well since I don’t have to work tomorrow, the answer is yes.” You guys both know that since you don’t have to work tomorrow that you get to be tangled up in the sheets for a bit longer compared to if you did.

“Perfect,” Then whispering into your ear, he says, “Then I definitely can’t wait to see you later.” You cheeks get red from what he is implying, but you’re glad there’s not that many customers to notice.

He kisses you goodbye, and he is almost out the door before you realize he is missing something. “Oh wait! You’re coffee!” He turns around and you grab his coffee to take it to him, while also reminding yourself to thank Emily for making it. Ever since the first time he came in, he has always gotten that coffee you suggested him, never once changing it.

When you approach, he replies back, “Oh, yeah. Gosh how could I forget it.”

Giving him his coffee, you couldn’t help but to say, “Couldn’t have you drinking boring coffee baby.”

He laughs as he remembers back to what you said to him a year ago, “Oh, I am never drinking boring coffee again, made that mistake one too many times.”

You bid him goodbye, and as soon as he makes it to the door and opens it, he trips. Luckily he didn’t spill his drink or hurt himself. He turns to see if you noticed, and of course you did, you just laugh at him as he gives you a wave and finally makes it safely to his car and drives away. As you walk back to the counter, you wonder how you could now ever live without the clumsy, cute boy that you met on opening day.

[llserenell]

I wanna ruin our friendship…

Summary: The day Vox’s heart was broken and his hatred for Alastor begun.

Notes: this chapter is very poor and out of character due to the lack of Information I have on past Vox and Alastor, though I did try my best.

<— First chapter [you’re here]

“To twenty years!!” they both announced in unison with the clank of their glasses.

Clank

They chuckled, soft jazz lightly flowing from the radio off in the distance, the two humming to the music as they enjoyed the moment, grins plastered on their faces. "Cheers!" they said happily, both taking a shot of whiskey.

“Twenty years, huh?” Vox murmured, sighing with disbelief and raising a curious eyebrow. He looked into Alastor’s eyes, seeing him so happy made his stomach flutter with butterflies, made him smile uncontrollably wide, made his screen grow brighter in color, made him feel so many different things.

Looking off to the side, he chuckled to himself and nodded slowly, feeling the same amount of disbelief and shock that Vox displayed. “Twenty years..” Alastor repeated out loud in a hushed tone, humming in agreement. “What a number!” he added with glee, turning his head to meet Vox’s gaze.

A brief laugh left him, swirling his finger around the rim of his empty glass, swaying his head to the soft music. “What a number indeed..” Vox breathed out with a lovestruck smile, eyes never leaving the other man.

Alastor leaned forward, resting his elbow on the bar and cupping his cheeks in his palms, his expression completely poised. “I still remember way back when we first met,” he murmured, thinking way back to their first meeting, truly showing how far their friendship had come, how close they had become. “Back when you had only just arrived—“ He rambled on and on, doing multiple hand gestures as he recalled first meeting Vox.

Vox, on the other hand, just hummed along in agreement, nodding his head from time to time, barely taking in his friend’s words. He found himself lost in thought, glaring at Alastor with nothing but awe and admiration as he rested the corner of his screen against his hand. ‘How could anybody be so beautiful?’ he would think to himself, his eyes roaming Alastor’s breathtaking face, his heart fluttering to life with love.

“It’s been over a decade now, hmm?” Vox just about caught Alastor asking, snapping him out of his little trance. "Y-yeah!" he embarrassingly muttered out in response, smiling widely, hoping Alastor hadn’t taken notice of his gawking. “I can’t believe it’s been—“

Vox cleared his throat, immediately gaining his friend’s attention. “You know...” he started, his arm sneakily snaking behind his back as if he were hiding something. “I’ve been...uh…meaning to tell you...something,” he got out with a nervous laugh, looking away. 

“You are..by far..one of the greatest people I’ve ever met in this messed-up hell,” he said with a laugh, eyes gleaming with joy, “and I am so, SO lucky to have you in my life.” He rested his hand upon Alastor’s, his expression softening and his voice wavering ever so slightly. “And I want to spend the rest of my afterlife with you.” He smiled sweetly as he spoke, looking at his friend with hope. “And I would love to be there for each other,” Vox said with pure admiration and love in his eyes.

“Vox, please don’t-“ Alastor murmured, knowing exactly what Vox was going to say next.

“What I’m trying to say is..” “Vox-“ “I love you, my dear,” he said softly, gazing fondly into Alastor’s eyes, desperately searching for any sort of reciprocation.

Alastor tensed up at the confession, looking off to the side in a desperate attempt to avoid eye contact as he and Vox shared a deep and uncomfortable silence. He couldn’t face Vox, he couldn’t face him now he had just confessed his feelings for him.

“Alastor?” Vox murmured, the confusion evident in his voice, his tone slowly becoming melancholic. His eyes widened. “Al, please..” he pleaded with desperation, his hand slipping down to rest on Alastor’s thigh as he leaned slightly closer. “Please- please say something-“ his hand tightened around Alastor’s thigh, making the other man shift uncomfortably.

“Al, what we have– you can’t throw that way….I love you….I need you!” he said, just barely above a whisper, his eyes filled with panic.

Alastor placed his hand on Vox’s, keeping it there for a moment as he looked down at their hands, before sighing and shoving it off his leg. “I’ll..go get us some more drinks,” he responded with a hasty tone, tilting his head up to look at the upset man.

“Al, I..” Vox mumbled out with worry, before letting out a deep sigh and slowly nodding his head. “That’d..be nice,” he said with a small smile, watching Alastor stand up. “I’ll be waiting here.”

And with that, he waited, humming to pass the time. He brought his hand in front of him, looking down at the flower sat in his hand, eyes narrowing with distain.

Vox huffed out a breath, his eyes never leaving the flower. It was Alastor’s favorite, he had planned on gifting it to him if things went well.

He continued to wait. He waited, and he waited, and he waited... yet, there was no sign of Alastor. His smile slowly began to fade into a straight line as he came to realize the truth, the truth he tried so hard to ignore.

Alastor wasn’t coming back.

“Shit!” Vox balled his hand into a fist, slamming it onto the table with anger, recalling Alastor’s words, his expression, his reaction. “F-fùck..” He grumbled out, static buzzing from his screen; all eyes were on him.

A collection of noise bubbled up at the corner of his eyes, almost resembling tears. He brought his hand up to eye view, crushing the flower before discarding it to the floor as he stood up from his chair, trudging towards the door, ignoring all the bewildered glances from other demons.

As the door slammed shut behind him, a wave of anger and regret welled up inside him. Why couldn't Alastor love him? He was certain he had done everything just right, but clearly that wasn't the case. What more could Alastor possibly want from him?

Running his hand over his screen, he let out a glitchy sob. He balled his fist by his side, hand shaking with anger and defeat. Leaning back against the door, he scoffed, eyebrows knitting together as he heard the rain hit the floor—another problem to deal with.

Struggling to keep himself together, the anger he felt began to fade, replaced by a creeping sense of sadness. "Oh Al..." Vox whispered out, "I'm sorry.."

I am so sorry, this is really bad🥲 despite this being bad, I hope you somewhat enjoy it. 🫶🏻

[sentientsky]

"I forgive you." It came out like a blood clot—like an artery dripping gore—like an oil spill. Crowley felt his shoulders rise, fall, fall, fall. The air between them hummed, the tension of six thousand years turning every atom electrified and silently screaming. Breath shuddered out of him, human and terrible and hollowing. He had never been more grateful for the swallowing darkness of his glasses, for the way they hid the centuries of pre-emptive grief and wicked terror. The air was suffocating, the once familiar bookshop turned catacomb.

And then, hating himself for it but seeing no other way forward, he spoke the words aloud. "Don't bother". And then he was out in the middle of Soho and the breeze was harsh against his too-warm skin. Stepping out into the sun felt like rising to the surface of some great ocean—the gasping, desperate feeling in his lungs, the sudden crash of noise. A woman across the street called for her wife. A car horn. A dog barking. Laughter, cruel and far-off. He pulled breath into lungs that didn't need it, winced as he felt slivers of cold drive into the soft flesh of his throat.

So that was it; five and a half million years of want and need and burning, aching somedays, cyphered pleas for "our side". All gone in the space between shaking half-breaths and a kiss still seared against his lips.

Fuck it.

He'd ruined it the first time, had forced them both to look directly into the sun, to face the thing they'd been dancing around for the better part of six millennia. He could do better—would do better. At a music café some years ago, a human had been playing the piano—something soft and slow. A jazz number, if the demon remembered correctly. But the remarkable thing wasn’t the song itself, but that they were playing it with their eyes closed. Aziraphale had pointed this fact out to Crowley, excitement lilting in his voice (even then, the sound had thrilled him, sent a stab of warmth through his heart). It was only after the final note reverberated through the room that the artist opened their eyes, blinking in the sudden rush of stage lights. Aziraphale, ever the music connoisseur, approached the musician. The pianist had explained that, for them, reading music never came easy. Rather, they learned by touch, by the way the keys felt on their fingertips. In fact, the only way they could play a song was with their eyes closed. If they watched their hands as they played or thought too hard about their next move, they got confused and tripped over the notes. Muscle memory, they’d said.  It was muscle memory—the galactic familiarity of finding the space between seconds and prying—that guided Crowley now. He hadn’t done it since Not-Armageddon, but it came easily to him just the same. Time, you see, operates kind of like sound, like music; it loops and sways and carries forward in waves. If you know where to look (as the demon did), you can disrupt the flow, send it back towards the shore. 

And this was what Crowley did now. Drawing his hands through the ripples of minutes and seconds and hours and millennia, time stilled around him. It was natural. Easy, like breathing or sleeping. Or loving Aziraphale.  Slowly, the world turned backwards; humans retreating from whence they came, cars driving in reverse, the wind blowing in the opposite direction. If Heaven had taken notice of their "half-a-miracle", Crowley expected them to be able to see this from every edge of the universe. He likely only had one shot at this.

The world aligned itself once more, and time returned to its regular, steady gait—a rubber band snapping back into place. Something hummed in Crowley’s chest. Something bright and burning and the shape of a neutron star.  Hands shaking, he reached for the handle of the bookshop and pushed. The bell above the door rang, clear and and too-loud in the morning air. Aziraphale whirled around, a trembling half-smile on his face. Oh. Oh, somebody, this was going to be harder than he thought. It felt like all the oxygen, all the courage, had been punched clear out of him "Crowley!" A beat, a shuddering breath. "Angel". He pressed his still-trembling hands into his pockets and strode forward. "Oh, Crowley, dear, I've been looking for you. I have excellent news." His stomach did a little flip, something deep within him growing hollow and fearful. "We have to talk," he managed to choke out around the heart still lodged in his throat. "Yes, I quite think we do. I have something to tell you." Aziraphale strode forward, all grins and beauty like a flickering star, all plasma and heat. He could practically feel the agitated warmth roll off of his angel. Crowley shivered. "I just met with the Meta—” "No. Wait," the demon held up a hand, pausing the rushing torrent of Aziraphale’s words. "Just let me say my thing, please." "My dear boy, just—oh, what is that lovely human expression—"

"Hold that thought," Crowley muttered. His eyes burned behind his glasses. Aziraphale looked pleasantly taken aback.

"Yes, how did you know? I—" "No." The angel's eyebrows crinkled in confusion. "No?" "No," he repeated, enunciating each letter with perfect clarity. He was going to do it right this time. He was going to keep him from leaving. He could be good. Right? "I’m gonna speak, and I want you to listen to me without interrupting, m'kay?" Words were building in the basin of his sternum now, pushing up on his airways. He was going to have to say it outright this time; no more waltzing around this frenzied galaxy of emotion. Willing his hands to steadiness, he pulled his glasses from his face, and tucked them into the collar of his shirt. Aziraphale's breath seemed to catch for a moment, meeting the ferocity of the demon's gaze head-on. A deer in headlights. And then, "Crowley, I really—" (Eons hurtled through his mind in a split second, the serrated knife's-edge of want like a being all its own. Aziraphale in the garden. Aziraphale in the tavern, on the cliffside, on the West End stage, in the Bentley, in the bookshop, in the very marrow of Crowley’s bones.) "I love you," he rasped, ichor writhing in his veins.

There, he'd said it., said it fully and completely, without so much as flinching. It was the same love he'd expressed for the past several thousand years in a million little, unspoken ways: an ox rib, a revolution, a church, a burning bookshop and the bottom of a glass and a lost best friend. A yellow Bentley, a lifetime of tethering his life to Aziraphale's, of trailing after him like a moth to flame—like a dog to its owner. "I love you," he pushed on. They were both looking directly into the sun again, Crowley urging them to stare straight into the heat of it all. The words were spilling out of him now, a heaving, thrashing current falling to the bookshop's hardwood floors. "I love you and you can't go to Heaven." Aziraphale froze, pupils blown wide and unblinking, for just a moment. Tension stretched out like a thread between them. And then he pulled in breath like a drowning man (who wasn't really a man at all), and tears were gathering in the corner of his eyes, and oh god, he'd made his angel cry. Fear and guilt and horror slammed into him at a million kilometers an hour and left him halfway between dizzy and nauseous. His fingers tensed at his side, desperate to do something, fix what he'd so obviously broken. Heaven would be on the front step any moment. It was too late, wasn't it? It was always too late. "Crowley—what?" Aziraphale breathed, mouth twisting into a brutal, terrible, heart-wrenching sob. Crowley ached, panic lancing through him like a knife. "I—I really, I can't. You could come with me." He stepped forward, moving to place his hands on the demon's shoulders. Crowley leaned into the touch, almost unconsciously. "Don't go," he croaked, tears beginning to prick his own eyes once again. This time he didn't reach for his glasses, didn't try to hide his fear. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right. And then Aziraphale could hate him and his desperate, hungry, reverent love in the aftermath. "Don't go where I can't follow. Please".

His angels blue-grey eyes searched his own, and the weight of his gaze was impossibly heavy, pressing down on his chest like a river-smoothed rock. "Crowley, please. I don't understand. The Metatron said—" His palms found the sides of Crowley's throat, thumbs resting gently on the side of his jaw. Crowley sucked in a breath. "Angel," The scent of earl grey—of old books and soft tartan chairs. Aziraphale's hands were shaking. "I know what the Metatron said," he intoned, soft as rainfall. "You can't go. It's not—they won't change. You're better than that." "But you could be an angel. With me," he murmured, soft thumbs running across sharp cheekbones. "Be my second-in-command." "Don't want to be. Want t' be an us," he felt tears—traitorous, burning tears tip over the edge of his lashes and fall against his face. "Crowley, darling, please." A beat. "I love you." The bottom of the world dropped out from under him in that moment. Aziraphale loved him. He loved him and he'd said it aloud and now it was out there in the world and it was as though every nerve on his body was on fire. His angel pushed on, "Truly, I love you. I need you with me. Please, come with me. We can do good, I know it." He could never say no when his angel asked something of him. Especially not when his kind, gentle hands were holding him like something good, something precious. Especially not when Aziraphale had just admitted to needing him, had injected the word with so much warmth he thought his all-too-human heart might beat clear out of his chest. But there was a first (technically, second) time for everything. He drew in a heavy breath, and tilted his head, breaking his angel's hold on him. Aziraphale's hands—now empty, still shook. He made a soft whimpering sound, and Crowley ached to kiss his fingertips, banish the fear. But instead, he looked up towards the ceiling, to a God who was not there—who maybe had never been there at all. He felt the Heavenly Host drawing near, a sense of hollow emptiness, the scent of absence. This was the time of last-ditch efforts, of holding his heart out and hoping Aziraphale might take it as it was, bruised spots and all. "I can't. I won't. I need to be here, on Earth, with you." "Crowley, please. I don't think you understand what I'm offering you," he huffed. A residual shard of anger stabbed at him then, and he turned his gaze sharply back to the angel before him. "Oh, I understand perfectly well, angel. I'm fairly certain I understand better than you do." Aziraphale's mouth drew into a thin line, tears welling fresh in his eyes again. And still, Crowley ached. A beat. Something in the angel shifted, then, turned on its edge—the walls beginning to go up again, and it was just like it had been not fifteen minutes ago. He was watching the same moment play out over and over again; some cyclical, torrential nightmare. "I would like you to come with me, but," Aziraphale paused, voice breaking in the middle. "But I'm leaving, with or without you." And there it was, like it was predestined. Despite the love, despite the want, despite every shared bottle passed between them, every half-accidental touch and glance and whispered word—despite the way he would’ve let Aziraphale run a sword through his chest... It wasn't enough. It was never enough. They were re-enacting their old magic trick, right there in the bookshop, this time with Crowley staring down the barrel, letting Aziraphale pull the trigger. Aim for my mouth, but shoot past my ear. Aziraphale wasn't shooting past his ear. His bloody ribcage felt as though it might splinter apart. Wingbeats in the distance, a grief wide enough to drown the sea. Crowley reached down, pulled his sunglasses from their resting spot against his clavicle. And then the hunger in his eyes was once more hidden, and he was walking towards the door like a man headed to execution. "Crowley—" Aziraphale nearly keened, the wall crumbling for a split second. Without turning, Crowley said the only words he could think of. "I forgive you."

[bby-blu-swirll]

hairdressing | hawks x reader

little short where a long term customer recommends her stylist (you) to a coworker of hers <3

(HELP IDK WHERE THIS CAME FROM LOL)

soft rock filled the small space as you swept across the salon floor, making a small pile of your last client's blue hair. you smiled to nobody in particular, taking a deep breath. you really did love your job. it was an art to you, and every person who passed under your hands for a cut or dye felt like a small masterpiece.

you worked out of a small salon in downtown kyushu, on the cutest street corner across from a bakery. it had three stylist chairs in their respective stations, each decorated to their owners' liking. yours had small (f/c) prints along the wall, little butterflies scattered around, and your mirror was lined with some miscellaneous polaroids and string lights. at first they were just for the vibes, but you quickly noticed the majority of your clients finding a significant amount of joy in taking their instagram photos with it.

the other stations had been filled with personality of their own, belonging to your salon co-owners, two lovely people you became quick friends with in cosmetology school. however, one had clocked out for the day hours earlier and the other had no appointments, so the shop was yours to enjoy while you waited out the clock. of the three of you, you were the only one who didn't leave after the last client. you hardly made appointments before 10 am, so if you had some extra time before 6 pm, you would tidy the salon and see if you got any walk ins. if not, you closed at your 8 hour mark. every once in a while though, someone would wander in asking for a quick cut and you were always more than happy to comply.

so now was one of those evenings. your last client, coming in for a fresh trim, had walked out at 5:20. and here you were, just humming along with the music and bobbing your head.

a soft buzzing from the counter tore your attention away from the pile of blue hair you were sweeping and brought it to your phone, with an incoming call. you smiled softly at the icon, a picture of you and rumi from the last time you two had been able to go out together. at this point, it must have been months ago. she was always so busy with hero work now, which you completely understood, it just made you miss the days before she was number 5.

you had gone to the same middle school and stayed connected since. of course she went to a high school to get her hero license, (before you, too, since you met in her last year, and your first) but you wouldn't let that stop you from seeing her on weekends, or stop her from forcing you to help with the classes she didn't understand. in exchange, she let you practice on her hair to help your chances of getting into a better cosmetology school. hell, she even let you dye it once or twice. ever since, you were the only person who's cut her hair, ever.

you put the phone to your ear with a smile. "heyy, hunny bun! what's goin on?"

you heard her playfully scoff through the phone, as if you haven't been calling her that since you were 15.

"hey babes, just had a question for ya." her cheerful tone was unwavering as usual, you could practically hear her confident smile through the phone.

"mkay, shoot."

"are you with a client right now?"

you tucked your phone under your ear with your shoulder, picking up your broom and starting to sweep the pile towards the automatic vacuum in the corner. "mmm, no, my last one left just a few minutes ago, actually." you heard her say something you didn't quite catch, like she was talking to someone she was with. "why? what's up?"

"do you still take walk-ins until 6??" her tone was more eager now. you smiled a bit, wondering what for.

"yyeeaaahh?"

"oooo! okay perfect, then i have someone who desperately needs your help." you could hear annoyed and offended protests come from her line and you couldn't help but stifle a laugh. "oh shut up, you've let it grow too long and you know it! stop acting like a stubborn child." she chuckled slightly before turning her attention back to you. "think you've got time for a quick trim for my friend?"

with a small smile, you turned to the clock on the wall. "yeah, plenty actually. how far away are you guys? should i put up the closed sign in the window in case someone else comes in?"

"nah, don't worry about that. we just got off patrol like four blocks from you. should be five minutes, tops."

you stopped your sweeping and froze, just a bit. "patrol? you mean i'm doing one of your pro hero friends' hair?"

"well you've been doing mine since we were 13, i figured it wouldn't be a big deal." she sounded so casual, which was in character for her, yet still astonishing to you, considering the circumstances.

"i mean yeah, but i know how to do your iconic haircut because i've been doing it for, i don't know, almost 10 years?? not to brag, but i'm probably the only one who can do it just the way you like. but if you bring me some big shot hero and i screw up his 'do, then it's all my fault." you chuckled slightly.

"ahh, don't sweat it y/n. i know you'll do a great job. besides, it's not like i'm bringing you chris hemsworth or something, it's just someone i work with every once in a while. feel free to screw up his 'do as much as you like." her end of the call was suddenly filled with miscellaneous protests and insistent "NO, DON'T DO THAT-"'s, followed by her cackling furiously.

you couldn't help but laugh yourself. "alright, well i'm gonna finish cleaning up from my last appointment. i'll see you in a few, yeah?"

"alright see you then babes."

"buh-bye hunny bun." you hung up, smiling softly, a bit excited for whatever was coming your way.

when the golden bell above your door rang just a few minutes earlier, you were reorganizing your hair colors. as soon as you turned around, you smiled and threw yourself at rumi in a big hug, laughing as she scooped you up and spun you around. it's a habit she'd picked up way back when she first started heavy lifting.

she squealed as she squeezed you, finally setting you down. "agh, i feel like it's been so long since i've seen you!"

you chuckled slightly, rubbing the back of your neck. "yeah, it's almost like that's because it has."

your smile changed into a curious look as you remembered why she was here, looking behind her at the eye-catching scarlet pair of wings on her friend. realization dawned upon you as your eyes met his, golden and piercing, even through his tinted glasses. you huffed a laugh and smirked, cocking your head to the side. he held out a gloved hand for a shake before stopping.

"oh-" he chuckled and bit the middle finger, pulling out his hand and offering it again, flesh and bone this time, for a friendly shake. "hey, i'm-"

"hawks. i'm familiar." you smiled and laughed softly. "call me y/n."

"pleasure to meet you, y/n." the way your name rolled off his tongue made you hesitate for just a moment, biting the inside of your cheek in thought.

"likewise... hey rumi?"

"mhmm?"

"remember when you called me earlier?"

she smiled playfully. "yeah, i think so."

"yeah, and you said, 'iT's nOt LiKe i'M bRiNgiNg ChRiS hEmSwOrTh'?"

"mhm mhm i think i remember that."

"so.. wanna tell me what the number two hero is doing in my salon, oh my God?"

she laughed loudly and patted you on the back. "y/n don't worry, i promise you have nothing to stress about. now i'm gonna pop into the bakey across the street and see if i can get anything before they close, why don't you go ahead and get started?" without waiting for an answer, she was already back in your doorway. "screw him up, yeah?" she winked playfully before closing the door and making her way to the crosswalk outside.

a moment of silence passed as you watched her make her way across the street before hawks spoke up.

"sooo.... please don't screw me up, too badly."

you laughed as you prepped the rinse station for him. "oh no don't worry, you're in perfectly adequate hands."

he let out an amused hum. "i don't know, adequate has to be an understatement, if you're the one doing rumi's hair. she told me you were the one who did her hair and makeup for that magazine she was in a few months back, said you style her for every event too." he shrugged off his jacket and slipped off his glasses, dropping them in one of your lounge chairs.

his easy going tone and relaxed smile had already made you feel more at ease. "yeah... well i mean, i guess i just know her, what looks good and what she likes, you know? we go pretty far back." you chuckled, motioning for him to come take a seat.

"well whatever you end up doing to me, i'm sure it'll look great." his relaxed, almost cocky smirk rested on his face comfortably. though you thought you saw it falter for just a moment when you pressed a hand to his chest to guide him back, neck resting on the edge of the bowl, head leaning into the sink.

"well let's hope so..." you smiled softly as you lowered your voice just a bit. "let me know if the water's too hot..."

he hummed as the warm water poured over his scalp, visibly relaxing. as easy going as he always seemed, it must have been exhausting to always be on guard, looking for trouble. "mm... 's perfect."

you bit the inside of your cheek again, smiling still. he exhaled softly as you massaged the shampoo into his scalp, looking like he was sinking into the chair even more.

"hawks..?"

he opened one eye, looking up at you. "hm?"

"you okay?"

"oh, yeah... sorry," he chuckles faintly. "just, feels good... sorry if that's weird."

"oh! no, ha, not at all."

as you go along with the rest of the wash, conditioning and rinsing, you couldn't help but wonder if he ever got attention like this. as far as the media could tell, he didn't have many personal relationships, and he reacted so easily to your touch, it was like he hadn't relaxed, had personal attention like this in a while.

you moved him to the chair without many words. as you comb through his hair, you look up for just a moment and catch his eyes on yours in the mirror. you continued what you were doing, holding his gaze.

"...what?"

his smile returned with an amused exhale. "nothing, just watching you work."

you returned the expression before turning your attention back to his hair. "okay.. so rumi said you needed a trim, how much exactly am i lopping off?"

"ah, probably an inch, hardly more. it's been getting in my eyes when i'm fighting, which is like skating on thin ice, so..."

you nodded, picking up your sheers. "okay, i get you."

"i usually get it cut every few weeks to keep it manageable, but the guy who was doing that before quit on me."

you tilted your head curiously as you began trimming around his neck. "really? why's that?"

"ah, i ended up having to see him pretty often, guess he kinda got fed up." he laughed lightly.

"every few weeks is already pretty often, why would you need to see him more often than that?"

"i solve issues before they can happen. but i also assist other heroes pretty often, walking into battles that have already started. and sometimes my own situations can still get out of hand. if i get banged up, chances are so does my hair. it's been burnt, ripped out, shaved around head injuries, pretty much anything you can think of."

as he talked, you pulled strands of hair to snip. every once in a while, you would notice small-ish scars buried under his overlapping layers.

"yeah, i think i see what you mean..." you gently run your fingers over one of them, watching carefully as his eyebrows quirk up slightly.

"yeah... anyway, guess the old stylist got tired of fixing me, and ended up quitting a few weeks ago. of course, i'm basically the commission's 'golden boy'," you didn't even have to look up to know his eyes were rolling. "so i guess he was the best in the area. that's why they're looking for someone new now, and why i've been looking just a bit overgrown." he chuckled lightly.

his eyes followed as you picked out your sheers and comb, making your way in front of him. his classic smirk stayed on his face as you leaned in closer.

your voice was low as you bent over just slightly, raising his chair. "sorry, just need to do your front parts quickly..."

"no worries..."

"so... if your image is such an important part of the job, why'd they higherups trust you to someone like me?" you smiled faintly. his eyes fluttered closed as you began to trim the hair falling around them.

"actually, that was mirko's idea. she speaks pretty highly of you, ya know. besides, she thought maybe, if you did a good job, she could convince the commission to hire you to take care of me." he winked playfully. though it was perfectly in line with his personality and was likely a regular habit for him, it still made your stomach drop for a moment. "if you're interested that is. she thought you might be. no pressure, of course."

you moved back behind him as you felt your cheeks heat up, putting down your tools before facing away. "uh huh..."

"wooow, i can see why she's got so much faith in you." his smile was obvious in his voice. when you turned back to face the mirror, you saw him admiring his reflection, hair still slightly damp and falling into his eyes. "i look sexy~"

you laughed and put your hands on his shoulders. "yeah yeah, i haven't even styled it yet."

he chuckled softly turning his head from side to side with a sly grin. "i'm not even sure you need to, sweetheart. you do know best, though."

it was hard to miss the flirty tone in his voice, and harder to ignore now that he was throwing in nicknames, but you were sure it was just his personality. he was a reputation charmer, after all. his ever-lingering smile made you grip your hairdryer just a bit tighter every time you caught his gaze on yours in the mirror.

as you were adjusting his fluffy hair, you noticed the texture was slightly lacking. "hey, your hair is kinda dry..."

he quirked up an eyebrow. "really? that's weird, i take great care of my hair."

"i mean it's not too strange, high winds will definitely do that." you looked around your shelf for a moment before picking up a few products. "i can fix it though."

he watched curiously as you pumped some leave-in conditioner into your palm, rubbing your hands together. as your fingers found their way into his hair, you first saw him relax before you felt him slightly lean into your touch. he sighed contently as you took your time massaging the product into his scalp, not wanting to interrupt how relaxed he looked.

"okay..." you spoke softly, voice low. "you're all done."

you smiled and unbuttoned the cape, watching as his smile grew. "honestly? bang up job, princess. i see why you get such glowing reviews."

you laughed lightly and shrugged. "thank you, but it's really not a big deal." you turned your attention to the shelf of product again. "oh, before i forget-" you picked up a small pink tub and handed it to him. "just use this in place of your conditioner and leave it for like 5 minutes, whenever you shower. should help with the dryness a ton."

he picked up his coat and took the container from you, his fingers lingering on top of yours for just a moment. "thanks... i owe you one." he winked again, and again you felt your stomach drop.

in a matter of perfect timing, rumi finally pushed open the door of your salon again, three little bags and a coffee in hand. "hey, sorry i took so long! i ended up getting something for both of you though!"

she handed you a small bag with your favorite pastry inside, still warm. you thanked her with a warm smile, turning to hawks, who looked less amused.

"poppy seed muffin?" he scoffed, his playful smirk returning. "you're hilarious."

"ahh, i know i am." rumi laughed lightly and threw her arm around you, still looking at hawks. "nice cut, by the way. told you she could restore your sight." the three of you shared a laugh as she took a swig of her coffee. "anyway, why don't you get out of here? i'll walk y/n home and catch you later, yeah?"

he nodded. "sounds good. hey, y/n, what do i owe you for the fresh cut?"

"oh, don't worry about it. it was just a trim and last month you totally saved my block from getting blown sky high, so we'll call it even." you smiled softly as he pulled out his phone.

"aww c'mon, at lease let me tip you."

you rolled your eyes playfully, deciding to not fight him. "i have a venmo qr code on my mirror if you really feel so inclined, but really, don't worry about it."

he sauntered over to your mirror and scanned it, tapping on his phone as he made his way to your door. "thanks again! i'll get your number from rumi so i can call you up next time i need your help." his flashed his pearly whites one last time as he closed the door behind him.

you turned back to rumi, who had begun to tell you all about everything that's happened since you last sat down together, when a knock sounded from your front window. you looked out to see hawks motioning to his phone and winking one last time before he finally took off.

you smiled and knit your brows in playful confusion until you felt your phone buzz. it was a venmo from hawks, with nothing but a small heart as the note. rumi almost spit out her coffee when she saw it, and your jaw was already on the floor.

this man had just tipped you $200.

***

as it turns out, the next time hawks would "need your help" was sooner rather than later. it was hardly 5 days later when you were walking from the coffee shop across the street to your own salon when your phone rang with an unknown number. you picked it up, expecting one of your clients maybe calling to reschedule or cancel. instead, you were met with the whistling of wind and a familiar smooth talking voice.

"heyyy y/n! it's hawks, i went ahead and got your number from rumi."

"oh-" you almost stopped in the middle of the crosswalk due to your surprise. "hey, what's up? did something come up?"

"nothing bad, no. are you at work yet?"

you smirked as you pulled out the keys from your pocket, trying to find the right one as you got to your door. "just arrived, actually. why?" no response. "hawks?"

as you slipped the key into the slot, you looked down at your phone and saw the call had disconnected. "okay.."

when a sudden rush of scarlet filled your vision, you yelped and almost dropped your coffee. hawks had practically fallen from the sky and landed right next to you, standing close, his cocky grin unwavering.

"oh my God, you scared the hell out of me!" you clutched your chest, laughing and waiting for your soul to come back to your body at the same time.

he chuckled and pulled something from under his coat. "sorry 'bout that sweetheart... would these make up for it?"

he held out a small bouquet of flowers in your favorite color.

"wh- what? why..."

"when you did my hair, i noticed the ones you had on your front counter were dying. i saw these on my way in this morning and they reminded me of you and your shop, thought they would look nice in the place." he smiled as you took them gingerly. "consider it a thank you!"

you opened the salon door with an exasperated smile, feeling it grow wider when he followed you in. "well they're beautiful and i appreciate them, but believe me, the VERY generous tip was more than enough."

you put the flowers in the now empty vase, adjusting them when he got close behind you. your eyes widened as his hand found your lower back, pressing slightly, his breath close to your neck.

"c'mon princess, just let me express my gratitude~"

you didn't realize you were holding your breath until he stepped back and you suddenly let it go. when you turned to face him again, his playful fun smile was back and he looked so casual, you almost wondered if you had imagined whatever the hell that just was.

"anyway, i've gotta be in soon, and i imagine you've gotta get your shop opened up, yeah?"

"ah...yeah.."

"then i'll catch you later. have a good one!" he left with a signature wink before taking off.

whatever that morning was, became a regular thing. every few days he would drop by for a visit for whatever reason- replacing your flowers, bringing you a pastry in the morning, offering to walk you home after work, even though you only lived a half a dozen blocks away.

and with every little reason to see you, came some "harmless" flirting that made your stomach do somersaults.

finally after almost three weeks he had actually come to you for the smallest clean up. while you lightly snipped his ends, he asked if you had considered the position of being his personal groomer. you told him you wanted to think about it more and he told you not to worry about it, but he did have a favor to ask.

in a few days time, he needed to be at an important event. just a hero dinner of sorts, it was meant to be all over the media though, so he needed to dress to impress. after seeing your work with rumi, the commission approved of you making hawks camera ready (upon his request, of course). it just standard hair and makeup, but it was an important job nonetheless.

against the better judgement you'd gained over the last few weeks of dealing with him, you agreed swiftly.

so here you were, outside his door with your cosmetology bag, ready to make up him and rumi.

rumi would take longer for both hair and makeup, so you decided to start with hawks. so she would be coming over later, which left just you. and him. alone. in his penthouse apartment. what could possibly go wrong.

aside front that he answered the door shirtless in sweatpants, nothing. so far.

he stood with one hand on the doorframe, the other on the door itself, towering over you with a sly grin. you had to force your eyes to stay on his face instead of wandering down to his incredibly cut core. you felt your stomach flood with butterflies as the softest flush covered your face, and he didn't take long to notice.

"you've got some good eye contact, sweetheart, i'll give you that."

his smile relaxed a bit as he stepped out of your way, opening the doorway of his apartment to you. you stepped in without mentioning any of whatever the hell just happened, biting the inside of your cheek with a soft smile.

you held up your bag, looking around. "where should i..?"

"ah," he began to move towards his living area, just a couple couches with a chair gathered around a coffee table. he plopped himself down on the soft rug of all places, in front of the table. "figured this might be a good place since, you know, you've got plenty of natural light to work with."

he was right, the entire wall across from his front door was basically made entirely of glass. it left a beautiful view of kyushu outside, with a terrace you imagined would be perfect to watch the sunrise from.

you smiled as you sat across from him, both of you cross-legged. "yeah, it's perfect actually..."

"perfect..." he mumbled to himself. his gaze lingered on you as you pulled out your makeup bag.

"so." you turned to him and scooted a bit closer, reaching a hand towards his face. "do you mind if i..." you hesitated, halting your hand just before your fingers grazed his skin.

he gulped and nodded, confident smirk faded as his pulse picked up. you lightly cradled his jaw and carefully turned his head from side to side.

"well you've got great skin... smooth, not oily, i doubt i'll have to do any base..." your voice was low as you spoke, talking more to yourself than him. he just hardly nodded as you inspected him closely. "i'll give you some highlight and contour though, just for the camera... your eyelashes are stunning..."

he cracked a small smile. "thanks.."

you returned the look and met his eyes. "you're welcome..."

time seemed to still between you for a moment. his eyes flicked to your lips for the shortest instant, you almost missed it. he inhaled deeply before clearing his throat and looking to the side. you sucked in a quick breath as you turned your attention back to your makeup bag, digging out a brush and a couple of small product bottles. you handed him a headband, still not looking at him.

"ah, so..." you took a deep breath before finally facing him. "here, i'll just go in with a thin base just in case. flash photography isn't the most flattering lighting,"

he chuckled softly, deep in his chest, and your heart skipped a beat.

the next few minutes went by with minimal conversation, mostly just you letting him know what you were doing now, and him nodding along or making small sounds of approval. silence otherwise filled the room as you tried to focus on your work, though his eyes constantly wandering over all of you made it slightly difficult.

when you finally made it to his classic eyeliner, you accidentally let your gaze wander to his lips. you pushed aside all your thoughts and impulses and channeled your inner makeup artist.

"hey hawks..."

he opened his eyes as you moved the eyeliner pen away. "hmm?"

"your lips are kinda pale, would it be okay if i put a little stain on them?"

"oh," he bit his lip and furrowed his brow. "yeah for sure, i'm probably a bit dehydrated." his smirk was back, resting on his lips comfortably.

"yeah.." you took another deep breath, trying to keep your face from getting too pink. "the lipstick i've got now should actually work fine, its somewhere in my purse..." you picked up your highlight stick and put your fingers under his chin to turn his head to the side. "i'll get it in a second..."

he hums softly in response. you carefully applied the highlights to all the right places, emphasizing his cheekbones and the tip of his already curved nose. you heard his breath falter, just slightly, when you cupped his face in your hand, using your thumb to blend it out on his cheek. to your surprise, he closed his eyes and leaning into your touch. it was your turn to have trouble breathing, even more so when he placed his hand over your own and looked at you with a piercing gaze. you stopped what you had been doing all together, frozen as he turned his head. he pressed a small kiss to your wrist, then another, his lips lingering for just a second longer this time.

at this point your heart was in your throat trying to process what was happening. when he turned his gaze back to you, everything stopped. his friendly smile was gone, replaced with a fierce look, demanding and intense. neither of you moved for a moment, just stared. your stomach jumped as his eyes moved to take a long look at your lips. the second his gaze met yours again, he pulled on your wrist, practically yanking you into his lap. his hands moved quickly, one pressing against your lower back (a touch you'd actually grown used to form him) and the other cradling the base of your neck.

you could feel his breath on your lips. all you had to do was tilt your chin and you would feel them against yours. his hand on your neck moved up into your hair, looking at you through half lidded eyes.

"can i kiss you?" he practically breathed out his words, softer than a whisper.

you took a deep inhale and closed your eyes. "yes."

you'd hardly gotten the word out before he pressed his lips against yours forcefully, hungrily. his kiss was demanding, like he had been waiting for the longest time to finally get this from you. you tangled your hands in his hair, smirking just a bit. it was soft.

he finally pulled away, keeping close to you. both your faces were flushed deeply, and yours only got worse when you remembered he wasn't wearing a top.

"y/n..." the way your name rolled off his tongue made you shiver. or maybe it was his hand on your back, creeping beneath your shirt.

"hawks-"

"kiego."

your eyes widened as he pressed his lips to your jaw, feathering kisses all the way down towards your neck.

"you... i want you call me kiego."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

lil extra &lt;3

rumi showed up just after you had finally started on kiego's hair. as expected, her makeover ended up taking significantly longer, but the three of you didn't mind. by the time you finished curling her gorgeous (but VERY long) hair, it was time for them to go. they both looked spectacular in their dresswear, and you had to struggle to keep your composure helping kiego with his tie. his sly little grin never left his face as you messed with the fabric, trying to remember how, instead of thinking about his lips.

when you had packed up all your stuff and started to get ready to leave, kiego stopped you.

"its already dark out! why don't you just kick back and stay here for a while, yeah? i'll only be gone a few hours. make yourself at home." he had leaned close to your ear, his breath tickling your neck. "besides, we've gotta... talk more, when i get back~"

you agreed quickly, not wanting to seem suspicious in front of rumi. as much as you wanted to tell her, and knew you would soon, you needed to get a few things settled first.

so here you were, sitting in his apartment. even though he was insistent on you making yourself at home, the most you had really done was play some music, use one of his water glasses, and kick back on his couch.

you checked the time again. as far as you could tell, the event had ended just a bit ago. you had checked a few news outlets, seeing some clips already uploaded from the beginning of the evening. almost every one of hawks was him refusing to shut up about the new stylist who had gotten him looking so nice, and furthermore insisting whoever it was, was a secret (for now).

those were your favorites.

in the middle of a clip you were watching of rumi going over her latest fight, you heard keys in the door. you sat up on the couch and watched hawks walk in, a tired smile decorating his face. his jacket was thrown over his arm and his tie was undone, hanging around his neck loosely. the sleeves of his shirt had been rolled up his forearms, exposing a few cord bracelets.

"hey, sweetheart." he kept his gaze on yours as he tossed his jacket to the side, along with his tie. he slowly sauntered towards the couch, unbuttoning the first few buttons on his shirt. "glad you stuck around~"

his tone was flirty, but tired, and it was so attractive.

he settled on the couch almost on top of you, one of his legs between yours as a hand on your chest guided you to lie back.

"hey kiego..." you blushed and smiled as one of his hands found your waist. "how was the dinner?"

he pressed his body against yours, sighing as he relaxed into you. "exhausting... let's talk about it tomorrow."

you chuckled and tangled your hand in his hair, playing with it and massaging his scalp. he pressed lazy kisses to your neck, making you blush harder.

"be my girlfriend... stay over tonight... stay forever..." he said between kisses.

you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, melting into his gentle touch.

"okay.. <3"

DAMN BRO THAT ENDED UP BEING A LOT LONGER THAN I MEANT IT TO BE- "little short" YEAH OKAY SHORTY,

5619 words, which is almost 13 full pages in google docs omg-

sorry and you're welcome <33

idk if any of my future writing will be this long but ig we'll see ! at least i can say i'm starting out strong lol

i haven't the foggiest where this idea came from and as of rn i have scarcely any others, so if anybody wants me to write something short or long or whatever to any specific idea my inbox is open for requests !!

sm love 💗💗

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Quentin Smith - In a relationship Sfw

warning : fluff, comfort, trauma, sleeping pill abuse,

Info : So the second piece for a Kyle Gallner character here (I really need to write more for his charcters) as always have fun reading ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

°Caring, anxious and loving

°Quentin and his girlfriend went to the same class, in fact they were in the same music class and started talking about The Cure together after she saw his t-shirt. ,,Cool cd...I'm Quentin Smith" he had introduced himself to her when he saw the cd in her hands, the latest album and still sealed. He knew she'd probably skipped school for it to queue it up at the store.

°But it was this encounter over a cd that led to a conversation after class and the conversation went so well that they decided to meet. It was a meeting in one of the city's cafes where they both sat eating pancakes, knowing they both had hearts beating too fast to eat. ,,Good food don't you think?," Quentin began, and his counterpart nodded in agreement, catching them both staring at each other, too focused on the other and completely uninterested in the pancake.

°Her smile, the friendly look in her eyes, the warm hands that touched him every now and then as they walked side by side only to look away awkwardly. They were both in love and it was only a few times after that that Quentin confessed his love to her with rosy cheeks and his fingers tucked into his cap.

°She had never seen him so nervous but her own heart was beating just as fast before she fell into his arms and was simply overjoyed. The two of them had become a couple and even though the school didn't pay any attention to it (they were both just two weird music teens to the other students), Nancy was all the happier for her friends and it had to be celebrated with pancakes at dinner.

°But even after that, their love didn't fade because she quickly realized how caring Quentin was, always holding her hand, usually only giving her kisses with permission until she assured him a thousand times that it was okay. He loved to cuddle when they both lay on his bed with their heads snuggled together on his chest.

°They both watched horror movies, old black and white movies, talked about the camera work, the music and the actors. He even started to play a guitar and tried to learn some of her favorite songs for her, she in return would always give him a cap and as a small reward after school they would buy new cds and new music together and go out to dinner every now and then where somehow it all started.

°It was a quiet and sweet but above all peaceful time, but only up to the point when it came to hitting. What was initially just mumbling and she ignored through the mumbling and tossing and turning sleep became a worry as he seemed to really suffer.

°He had tried to sugarcoat it for her, but she could see his eye rings getting worse, he was getting more and more tired and even during music class he would fall asleep and lean on her, only to almost cry out at the end of the lesson. He gave her a tired smile and she had to keep propping him up so that he threatened to fall asleep. And only slept when she promised to stay with him, which of course she did. Just as he did everything he could to help her when she had her days, for example. He was just too overprotective and yet cute at the same time.

°,,Quentin, how can I help you?" she had tried to find out what was happening and why he was suffering so much in his dreams, but she hadn't learned the history of the town, she was from out of town, she didn't know the nightmare demon. She didn't know the dangers that came with knowing and didn't know why Quentin always looked at her so apologetically.

°She noticed how his touch seemed to become more and more desperate as he held on to her longer and stronger. That he was consuming more and more coffee and Redbull almost startled her so much that she had tears in her eyes when she saw the sheer number of pills he was carrying.

°Until the incident when he was bleeding, when she saw the cut on his arm, she ran out of the bathroom and saw him cowering in the corner. ,,Quentin!" she had shouted his name, trying to hold him before shaking him so hard that he seemed to wake up. His fear and confusion hurt her as much as his injury.

°,,My-my star, you're safe," he stated brittlely, still calling her by her nickname despite everything before falling into her arms and embracing her as if he could have lost her at any moment. ,,Everything will be fine...we'll get through this" she replied not knowing what to say and just held him there for him until he too realized that there was no point in explaining to her what haunted this town, haunted him and why sleep meant death.

°It was a realization that also frightened her, that she knew he might haunt her too. But whenever they were together, cuddled up next to each other, it seemed that the demon had no chance. The kiss their shared was like a shield for the fear. That their love kept him from invading her dreams and for the first time Quentin seemed to be able to sleep peacefully with his love by his side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@angelsanarchy

[ocisugovorile]

S

Today.

Today is the first time I write about you. Up until now I would read, but not yet write. Writing is different. Writing is an imprint, like the one you left behind this morning at 4am.

Today is the most beautiful day and I don't know is it because the morning started off cold and then got warmer throughout the day, just like me with us, or is it the fact that I finally in so long actually looked up at the sky and noticed the clouds just how I noticed your eyes yesterday, or is it the music to my ears winter wonderland playing in the background just like your words last night.

Today I sit sipping on a hot cup of coffee in a cozy little cafe writing about you. If there is something I can thank you for it is for bringing this version of me back. You got me writing again. I love this version of myself, when my brain fills up with so many beautiful thoughts, I find it a waste to not let the words run out of my fingers and onto this keyboard.

Today is different. Today is better.

I despise that I give you that power, to make me feel this way so early into my new independent life.

But how can I despise a feeling you give me, the reason I left my marriage was in order to feel this again.

And I feel you. who would've thought. I say, not in a million years.

I still question whether our paths crossed at the right or the wrong time.

All I know is that our stars aligned when we both found ourselves in similar situations feeling similar emotions and juggling similar struggles.

Going through it all just like me.

Today I can't get you out of my head. I cannot stop replaying the collarbone kisses. my god did you get me there.

Or when I sat on the floor back up against the couch and from behind you comforted me with soft neck kisses whilst slowly killing me with soul bearing news of bad choices you continuously make like a wave of patterns you so badly run from but somehow always end up in.

You drag me into with you, I find it cruel, but then you so gently comfort me after the pain you give. Your dangerous and messed up and unfortunately, that is my type.

And as I am writing this, I just realized the song I will dedicate to you.

There is a quote I read the other day about you. It goes, I never liked brown eyes until I looked into yours, now they are my favorite.

Your eyes say it all. the comfort that comes with them is crippling but invigorating at the same time.

You have me daydreaming today. Snapping myself out of constant dozing.

Euphoric.

Euphoric is the word. I heard connections that are addicting are the best lived stories, the best poetry and the best lessons, but also the most painful, the biggest heartaches and simply soul breaking.

I don't know if I can take it, but I want to with you. I have taken so much through life. so much heartache, so much pain, I need a break, I deserve a break, but I still choose this risk with you because of the good you give.

I hope you don't let me down.

I spoke to T this morning just after you left. Her face is enough to light up the darkest room. She sees my glow too. The one you put on me. I didn't even mention your name, i didnt need to, you were written all over me and she saw it.

She worries but at the same time she understands.

She prays you don't hurt me. She knows who I am, she knows how gentle I can be, and she knows how much I love and much I hurt. She feels it when I go through it just as I feel hers, our souls are tied and bonded for life.

I am grateful to God for her. I had no hesitation to tell her today about you. That says a lot.

She wants me happy she wants me to live this moment for along as I truly deserve which we both know is at least the number of years I spent in desperation and pure agony in my life.

I told her we will fall in love 1000 times and fall out of love 1000 times, lusts and loves are fazes in life.

I believe people can have multiple loves throughout life at different stages, and that is ok.

Throughout life you are not forever one or the same person and if you are then you are not evolving.

Give your heart to your children, give your ambition and focus into work and give your faith to anything that makes you feel safe.

When love gets bad, leave. But now, after everything the scariest part is.... if love is good and remains good. There is nothing more spine-chilling than the thought of love remaining good.

But as unnerving as it is, is it not beautiful? is it not why we left? to give ourselves the chance for something good.

Quote of the day: The universe will never give you peace in something you were never meant to settle in.

If something is not your destiny, you will know, because you feel it.

And that little voice and little feeling you have inside of you, listen to it, that's your best friend.

Right now, both of my best friends tell me to feel everything I have with you.

-MP

Sunday 10th December 2023

13:22pm - 15:22pm

1000 words.

[stationintern]

The Big Gay Road Trip Of 2002

Rated M for language and sexually suggestive content.

Draco and Harry take a road trip. Draco likes belt buckles and Stetsons. Harry also likes belt buckles and Stetsons. He really likes them. He might like Draco a bit, too.

Harry’s not blind.

He knows Draco is attractive– has known, probably for longer than the last two months they’ve spent in the United States of Adamant Stupidity, as Draco likes to call it. 

He hasn’t ignored it, hasn’t even been trying to, and Draco doesn’t seem to mind all that much. Still, they have three more months of this to get through, and Merlin knows how quickly becoming involved with one another could go south. 

“I’m gonna show you Brits how to drink the American way.” Violet slurs, tossing her violently pink hair behind one shoulder. Her dark skin is tinged purple and green under the fluorescent lights of the bar.

It’s a disgusting place, and Harry loves it. They’ve been in Dallas for a week, and Violet has said the same thing every night so far.

They picked her up at a dive bar on their first night here, and haven’t been able to shake her. Neither of them particularly mind. She makes for good company.

“And what does that entail?” Draco asks, dropping into the squeaky vinyl seat next to Harry and passing him a Modelo. Harry pushes the lime in with wonder, just as he has every other night. 

Harry’s not blind.

Draco looks stupid good. All buttoned up in a black shirt that's just a smidge too tight across his toned chest, straining against the lean muscle there. At some point during their stay, he’s acquired multiple novelty belt buckles, and is currently sporting one that says Truckers Only, embossed with an image of a woman in a thong bent over a semi. 

The newest addition to his outfit makes Harry’s mouth water, and he gulps, thankful for the loud music drowning out the noise.

“Where’d you get the hat?”

“Oh, this old thing?” Draco smirks, tipping the rich brown Stetson in a way that would make any other tourist look stupid. Harry wants to rip his eyes out. It stands out against the icy white of his hair, and over the course of the trip Draco has earned himself a beautiful golden tan, making his skin several shades darker.

God, Harry wants to eat him.

“Yeah. Where’d you get it?” Harry’s mouth goes from embarrassingly wet to a mortifying state of parched. His words come out in a croak.

“A very kind cowboy placed it on my head along with this.” Draco pulls a folded up piece of paper from the brim of the hat, revealing a phone number, “Reckon I’ll give it a go.”

Harry now wants to rip his eyes out and crawl in a hole.

See, the trip happened like this.

Draco wanted to fuck an American, so, naturally, Harry offered to join him on a five month trip across the United States in order to join in on the fun. They dubbed it The Big Gay Road Trip of 2002.

Things are not going as planned.

“You don’t even have a phone, Draco.”

“When has that ever stopped me?” Draco drawls, before turning to Violet, “Before I was so rudely interrupted by my traveling companion and his utter lack of manners, I believe I asked you what drinking like an American entails.”

Violet perks up, slowly recovering after going too hard, too fast at the beginning of the night, “Well, the American way of drinking usually ends in line-dancing. At least, that’s how it is here.”

“So, I drink enough to the point where I’m willing to line-dance in front of complete strangers for the first time?” Draco reclines in the booth, his knee knocking into Harry’s innocently.

It’s not like they haven’t touched. Occasionally, Draco will get too grabby on the dance floor of some club they stumble into in a town they’re too drunk to remember the name of. A few times, one of them has had to carry the other one back to the motel after having a few drinks too many, and will try to make a desperate move, but they’ve never given in.

Harry is so close to ruining everything, and finds that he’s starting to not care.

He’s had one too many Modelos.

“Mhm.” Violet swirls the remnants of her pint, staring at the bottom of the glass intently, “I reckon we keep drinkin’, and you tell me when you’re ready to hit the floor.”

Draco holds up a finger, before downing the entirety of his beer in a matter of seconds. He takes a deep breath, releasing the loudest burp in the history of mankind.

Harry still wants him.

“How would you feel if Stetson guy saw you do that just now?” Harry asks, feeling incredibly petty.

“Very cool, I’d imagine.” Draco shrugs, impossibly cool, squeaking out of the booth once again, “Onto the next!”

Once Draco is out of earshot, Violet leans in conspiratorially, “So, ya’ll gonna do it?”

Harry startles, feeling too exposed all of a sudden. He leans in as well, “Do what?”

“Screw. Fuck. Bang. Dirty Dance. Make lo-”

“No. Stop.” Harry holds up an authoritative hand with a grimace, “We’re not gonna… screw.”

“And why is that, darlin’?”

“Because it’s a bad idea.”

“Just because it’s a bad idea, doesn’t mean you don’t want to.”

Harry knows that, but he also knows it goes deeper, “Listen, Violet. If we… banged, I don’t think I’d be able to stop.”

“What, like it doesn’t wanna go down-”

“No, no. Not like that. I just-” God, this sounds so stupid. “I think I'd only want to… fuck Draco. Like, forever.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad. I mean, look at the guy.” Violet gestures to the dance floor, where Draco is currently grinding up against who he can only assume is Stetson man. He’s tall, dark and broad and everything Draco usually goes for when he’s looking to pull. She gets a pained look on her face, but the damage is already done, “Actually, maybe, probably, don’t look at the guy. Guys.”

“Really rubbing it in there.”

“Oops.” Violet shrugs, before pushing herself up from her seat, suddenly struck with inspiration, “Be right back.”

She hurries off toward the bar, and Harry has a few awful moments to himself, allowing him to stare at Draco and Stetson, twisting the knife further into his own heart with each second that passes. Draco spots him from the dance floor and shoots him a wink, and the knife penetrates deeper.

Violet returns from the bar with three shot glasses of clear liquid.

“Tequila.” She states, slamming them down on the greasy table, liquid sloshing out the sides, “Drink these. Then, go sweep that boy off his goddamn feet.”

“Absolutely no-”

“Absolutely yes.” Violet pushes the glasses closer, “He’s just doin’ this to rile you up. Classic move. He wants you to go out there and call his bluff.”

“But what if he doesn’t?”

“Then you go cry about it. Never know if you don’t try.” Violet pushes the glasses more, to where they’re at risk of sliding into Harry’s lap. “Now, drink up, Prince Charming. You’ve got a Princess to save.”

Harry takes a final glance at Draco and Stetson. Draco is rolling his hips devilishly and grinning the whole time, and Harry has well and truly had enough. Maybe this is the time to do it. Rip the band-aid off. See if any of those times Draco threw himself onto Harry the minute they’d stepped into the motel room meant anything. 

Harry downs the first shot, chasing it with another glimpse of Draco’s arse flush against Stetson’s crotch. The second. Then the third.

Violet pinches his cheek from across the table, and Harry gets a front-row ticket to the boob show, “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

Harry feels more like a kitten, but decides to do it anyway. He slides out of the booth, rubbing his sweaty hands on his dark wash jeans and mustering up any Gryffindor bravery he has left in his lust-and-sweat-soaked body.

The tequila hits, and the room turns into a tunnel, Draco shining bright at the end of it. 

Harry lets his feet do the thinking, and with each step his heart speeds up until he’s sure it’s going to explode. Draco stops dancing, and only then does Harry realize that he is mere inches away from him. Stetson man has quit dancing as well, simply doing a little shimmy off to the side. Harry shoots him a glare, and he shimmies to the left a bit more.

“Is there a problem, Potter?” Draco asks, more than a little confused. He looks beautiful like this. Covered in sweat and whatever else lives in this bar that hasn’t been cleaned since Voldemort was around the first time. 

Harry’s hands move for him, and soon he has Draco’s jaw cupped between his fingers, “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t go home with him.”

Draco looks dumbfounded, pressing his lips together in a firm line, the blood draining out of his face. 

In a rush of movement, he bats Harry’s hand away, grabbing him by the sides of his face and pulling their bodies so close they might as well be one being. 

“I’ve been waiting to hear you say that for a month.” He murmurs, before claiming Harry with his lips, wet and filthy and all-encompassing. His hands grasp at Harry’s waist, finding their way to his arse and kneading it possessively. 

Draco pulls away after what seems like forever and not nearly long enough, reaching a hand up to pluck the Stetson off his head, before placing it gently on Harry’s. 

He presses another dizzying kiss to Harry’s lips. He tastes of lime and honey.

“I reckon I’ll be going home with you, instead…. pardner.”

Harry pushes him away in an instant, trying his damndest not to laugh, “God, Draco, you ruined it.”

“C’mon, buckaroo, don’t you wanna buckado me?”

Harry does. He really, really does.

[vminity21]

The Truth Untold | ksj

Pairing: bestfriend!Seokjin x singlemother!reader, singledad!btsmember x female!reader, f2l!au

Word Count: 22,340

Genre: fluff/smut/angst

Warning(s): profanity, mention of divorce, mega angst, mention of child birth, smut, unprotected sex, oral (m + f receiving), shower sex woop woop, nipple play, morning sex, dirty talk, slight fem!dom, it took me three years to write this story and I am so thankful that it is finally finished Rated: 18+

Summary: When a job opportunity arises in the hometown you left seven years ago, you return with the gift that was never made known to the one person who hasn't left your mind. Despite the love interest tugging on your heartstrings, you wonder where he may be; tired of suppressing the guilt for hiding the biggest secret you have ever withheld. Now, after all this time, the truth is approaching much sooner than you anticipate, and the untold story of why you left will soon be revealed.

Co-author:  @yoonoclock​ (suhflix) is the first human whose writing I fell in love with and her talent never ceases to amaze me! This collab right here is an absolute dream come true and this story can finally be told after years of the idea living rent free within my brain. I love you so much my Monnie! Seriously thank you so much for cowriting this piece with me. 

Credits to: @dee-ehn​ for making such a beautiful cover, it truly embodies the story. Thank you so frickin frackin much!

Greenery zips by, your hands guide the steering wheel in concentration nearing the road to your new home; one that is bringing you back to the town you left years ago, and even now, you never imagined you'd ever return. A brand-new office job opportunity discovered online, you immediately applied, accepting the position that happened to be in your hometown; and, with the experience you've already had with a desk job, you were at the top of the list.

In the passenger seat sits your daughter, Mae, cuddled against the door, eyes glued shut in sleep while classical music serenades through the speakers at low volume. Nostalgia is a funny one- sneaking up on you in times you desperately try to avoid it. But, finally caving, you convince yourself this is all a good idea; with your sister, Monnie, and her husband being closer, at least you have someone you can rely on, the same as she can rely on you.

 A moving company has already moved the heavy stuff into your home. Rooms are finished. You started unpacking Mae's room first, so she would have everything she needed available. And today, you're coming home from 'Back to School' shopping, purchasing your daughter a new backpack as well as supplies with the infamous request of colored pencils. With summer ending, you've already transferred Mae's records to the new school she will be attending; starting second grade, her seventh birthday passed, you're nervous for the new adventure ahead, and all you hope with every fiber of your being is that you made the right decision.

“I hope,” you think repeatedly as you look back at Mae every few minutes. She’s okay, therefore, so should everything else… right?

Receiving an email once you arrive home, you read over it to see an announcement for an open house- a way for students to see their classroom and meet their teacher. Though you're excited about the news, your heart falls in disappointment all the same, because of course, the date of the open house is the same day you're beginning your new job. With your luck, the times clash. Sneaking a glance to check on your daughter, who is groggily hugging her favorite stuffed animal (one given to her by her grandmother), you dial your sister's number.

"Woman, you've been gone for a total of two whoppin’ minutes, what do you want now?" Monnie's voice answers the line abruptly which prompts you to pull the phone away from your ear when you hear the familiar muffle of a car.

"Are you driving!?" You say incredulously into the phone- a conversation you have openly said you're uncomfortable with. Monnie exhales into the phone which you imagine involves a painfully long eye roll.

"First of all, no, I'm not driving. You and Yoongi seem to think hell has frozen over if I do, and secondly, I'm pregnant, not helpless,"

A hearty snicker escapes your mouth, excitement filling you for your future nephew, "I know, but you can't even see your feet anymore,"

"And" she draws out, "My due date isn't until two months from now so you two need to calm down before I legitimately find relaxation pills to sneak into the wine I can no longer drink."

You sigh, “I don't like bitter wine-" 

"Who said I couldn't find other ways to-"

"Fine," you raise a hand in the air, "Anyways, I'm not calling to fuss at you. I need a favor," bringing the tip of your thumb to your mouth, you nip at the nail, guilt brewing for even asking.

"What did you do," Monnie immediately asks as a reflex.

After years of schemes and numerous escape plans back in the day, it comes as no surprise that whenever you hear the words ‘favor’ the need to question arises.

"Nothing!" You scoff teasingly, pacing back and forth into the dining area ignoring the numerous small boxes you're procrastinating to unpack. "Monnie, really, I need a favor,"

"What's the catch?"

"Coffee," you answer straightway, "Caffeine-free coffee.”

"Ugh," your sister bellows, the staticky feel of the phone line poppy within your ears, "Hence why I want this little troublemaker to exit my body. I miss caffeine," she pauses, "But, not as much as I miss bitter wine.”

The quiet snicker of Yoongi is heard- you shake your head at your sister's playful banter- something Yoongi loves about his wife.

"Well, it's the least I can do," you offer, "But is there any way you can take Mae to her open house this coming Monday?"

"Yes, of course, we can. Yoongi's off that day surprisingly, so no worries, he will be driving." 

You’re very thankful your sister will take care of it, and you soon hang up the phone for the evening and turn on a heel to prepare dinner for you and your daughter. 

Everything will be okay.

When Monday rolls around, you fluff at the curls layered in your hair, triple-checking your makeup, and doing a couple of side glances in the mirror before your clicking heels leave the bathroom. Monnie and Yoongi wait in the driveway, planning to take Mae to her new school while you tackle a new job.

"I love you so much, Mae," you hug her close, letting her soft hair tickle your nose before pressing a kiss to her forehead. "And make sure you say ma'am or sir when greeting your teacher, and say please and thank you, okay?"

"I will Mommy, I promise!" She says, her nervous eyes mirroring your own, though they resemble the eyes you used to get lost in once upon a time. Burying the thought further, you refuse to dig up the lurking past until you're ready.

"Be good, kiddo," embracing your daughter one more time before she heads to the car.

Your eyes linger out the door to ensure she safely enters the car and drives off until you can no longer see them. Once out of sight, you can assure yourself that this day will move along smoothly for both of you.

Walking into the new job, the boss, Kim Namjoon, shows you around, introducing you to the staff. Slightly bowing with each face to show respect. It's then you're led to what will be your office.

Namjoon hands you a schedule and goes over the code of conduct, also explaining your role in answering phone calls or preparing projects he asks of you. Lastly, he assists in providing you with a username and password. All the basics are covered, and you can say that it hasn’t been as terrifying as you originally thought.

"I'll be looking forward to seeing you further your skills with our company. Thank you for joining the team," Namjoon shakes your hand, nodding once, his black glasses slip to the bridge of his nose before he fixes them. "Your trainer will be here shortly to show you the ropes. Once you feel comfortable on your own just let us know,"

"Will do, thank you, sir," you smile, settling behind your desk once he departs. 

Though decorations to make the atmosphere more like home has been a goal, the only thing you need right now is just the picture frame of your daughter; one you slip from your purse to steady next to the computer- her toothy smile lighting up your whole world as her happy eyes warm your heart. Staring at the photo once more, you log in to your computer, bringing up the first message you receive. Deeply focusing on the list of projects forwarded to your work email that was already prepared prior to your arrival, you scan through everything, scribbling down your login onto a pad of paper you plan on keeping within your purse. Unbeknownst to you, a tall figure leans into the entryway, poking his head just enough to reveal his identity,

"When I saw the name on the schedule, I had to do a double-take! Since when, did you decide to come back to the underworld?" The deep voice utters prompting you to jolt from your concentration to gasp at the handsome face smirking at you.

It takes a total of two seconds for you to recognize the man standing before you. 

"Kim Seokjin!" The excitement leads you to jump from your desk, arms outstretched, you rush towards him until crashing into his embrace while he sways you from side to side. "I didn't know you worked here! Jin, how are you?" Your hands grip his shoulders, gazing at his dancing eyes- dark hair longer from what you remember in high school, covering his forehead in the softest fluff.

"I'm doing good! Never been better." 

When you realize you've been in his arms a moment longer than expected, you slowly back away, a timid smile forming on your lips. 

Clearing his throat, his expression reflecting the same awkward tension, you can't help the slight attraction within your chest. It most definitely had to be due to your lack of physical contact. When was the last time you went on a successful date? Oh dear… far too long for you to remember.

Yes, this slight tingle you feel upon your skin has everything to do with the lack of romance in your life. Definitely.

Seokjin politely ignores your forced smile by shoving his hands within his pockets. It is in that moment you catch a glimpse of his bare ring finger kindling a subtle surprise. Out of everyone in your past friend group, you expected him to be the first one married.

Everything about him then screamed husband. It’s probably the same now.

“How are you, y/n?"

“Wonderful," you sigh, inwardly grateful to have a familiar face welcoming you, bringing a sense of comfort until you get used to being here, "Excited to be back,"

"What's it been, like, seven years?" Jin tilts his head while his eyes scan the ceiling, "Gosh, we were children, then,"

You nod in agreement, "Still to this day, I remember dreading pre-calc, if it wasn't for you and-" leaning backward onto your desk a bit too far, the clanging of your picture frame lands on the desk interrupting what you were about to say.

"Oh!" Jin reaches to set it back up, eyes widening when he sees the picture, "Is- is she-?"

"My daughter," your head is slightly lower when answering, the realization Jin makes bundling nerves within your tummy. 

Seokjin was your best friend in high school and even after his graduation, since he's a few years older than you, both of you maintained a friendship up until you vanished without any explanation. Jin helped you with all your math classes, which was something you consistently struggled with, and supported you at any event you attended. No one ever knew why you left so suddenly after your graduation, and though there were people you trusted with your whole life, you couldn't bear to tell them when you found out you were pregnant. Seventeen years old and pregnant, "Her name is Mae," you smile.

"How old is she?" He asks, eyes meeting yours- his nervous fingers fiddling within his pockets.

"She's seven," you can't bring yourself to meet his eyes- a dawning 'oh' becoming present on his lips.

"Well," he swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing, "She's beautiful."

"Thank you," you say softly, turning to stare at the photo fondly, "She's my best friend,"

When silence falls between the two of you, he rocks on his heels once, gathering words carefully. Now fully understanding that whatever your motives were for leaving seven years ago, you did not do it with the intention of hurting anyone.

“She looks just like you," His compliment catches you off guard, your eyes trailing from his broad shoulders to the gentleness resting in his brown irises, heart fluttering though you mask it.

"Thank you, Jin," he bows slightly, turning toward the entrance.

 "I'll see you around, y/n," and with that, his presence disappears, leaving your wondering heart thudding beneath your chest.

Min-a, a lady with red-rimmed glasses and matching lipstick, dangly, red earrings and a messy bun happened to introduce herself as your trainer shortly after Seokjin left. Quickly going over how the system at your new job works, she answered any questions you had, even letting you try a couple of phone calls as well as preparing for the first task on a presentation that involved the selling of a cosmetic product. Although the hours seemed to drag, the only thing your mind focuses on is how your daughter is doing, and how open house went.

When the opportunity presents itself, you quickly give a call to Monnie.

"You asked questions, correct?" You panic into the phone. Your sister is chuckling at your rushed state. 

“Met her teacher? Showed her the classroom? Took notes? Did they provide any information?" You can't help yourself, slinging your purse into the passenger side after the long day, pressing the phone between your cheek and shoulder as you triple check to make sure you have everything you need. Keys, wallet, paperwork from the job.

"Can you breathe?"

"Did they provide any information," you repeat with a playful yet stern tone. "And did Mae-"

"Y/N, hold your titties. Yes, we did. We met the teacher, she knows where to go next Monday and no, I didn't take any notes. You are being dramatic."

Now, most people assume that she was being rude. That she didn’t understand the stress of motherhood. Monnie may not be a mother yet, but she is a woman who saw everything you have endured. She is fully aware that you seek to make this transition smooth for Mae because you love her. And Monnie loves you. 

She just happens to know when you are stressing yourself out beyond what you should be. Sometimes reminding you to take a breath is the best decision. 

"Okay, okay," you lean back into your seat with eyes squeezed shut, "I'll relax. Just- just, thank you. Thank you for doing all of this for me," you're grateful despite the guilt from missing your daughter's preparation for the big day in a week's time.

"What can I say? I'm the best auntie ever," Monnie gloats. You know the tight-lipped smile she most likely has planted on her face while Yoongi stifles giggles.

"Yeah, and you're the only one so what choice does she have?"

"You're just jealous because I am the best thing since sliced bread-"

"Stale bread.”

"I'll have you know that these hot crossed buns didn't form a baby with being sta-"

"SPARE ME," you yell into the phone, turning out of the parking garage and into downtown, "I'll see you when I get home you sicko. Tell Mae I love her very much, and I really hope she's wearing her headphones, I don't need her listening to your profanity-"

"Yes, she is listening to music, I'll see you in a bit, love you,"

"Love you," you make a detour, stopping for some iced coffee as you promised, also purchasing your daughter's favorite treat in celebration for her beginning second grade.

Keeping your full attention on the road, it's still quiet enough, even with comforting music, to let your thoughts spin. With this new job you have acquired, it's come to your attention that this will be the busiest you've ever been, at least according to Min-a. Though you and your sister's relationship had been strained nearly seven years ago, it took Mae turning four years old- a time where the guilt nearly consumed you- to reconcile with the one person you hoped had forgiven you. One thing you did think about, too, especially with moving back after all this time, was looking for the individual who changed your life. A young man, full of life, numerous dreams he was determined to accomplish, laughter that made you swoon, and a heart that pieced yours together when your world was falling apart. Where he is now, you're uncertain of. And, whether he'd be happy to see you again, that's unknown to you, too. With the news, you've buried deep enough, and with the way you left him, he still to this day has not an idea of the gift you brought to this earth without him.

Even Seokjin, who was your rock most of your high school years, didn't even know about the situation. The only thing he was aware of was the man who had captured your heart at the time; though, you hope he wouldn't say anything or ask about it... Either way, you are thankful for the beginning of the reconnection with Jin. If anything, this job may draw the opportunity of really catching up; seeing what all he's been up to since you've last seen him, including the curious inquiry involving his love life hidden subconsciously. With a handsome man like him you'd think women would snatch him up quick. Though deep down, you've really missed him, and are hopeful in the fact he's still single.

Perhaps it’s okay if you search for someone too. Is it too soon to see that in Seokjin? Years may have passed but his enduring existence has not.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you murmur to yourself.

Pulling into your driveway, you park the car, letting a long sigh out through your nose. No one knows who Mae's father is in your life, other than you. Something your sister has chosen to accept as well as your parents. Having Mae in their life is what matters to them the most, the same as Mae is your constant- the little girl who will always have your heart.

She is what brings stability to your life amid all the chaos from past, present and future. 

Carrying the iced coffees into the house, Mae greets you with an excited smile and hug,

"Mommy!" She exclaims, her arms tightening around your frame, her long, black hair nestling into the material of your pants suit.

"Hello there, my sweetheart. I have a surprise for you," you coo, handing her the paper bag with her favorite dessert.

"Oh, thank you!" She takes it, opening the bag with wide eyes, "By the way, I think I'm really going to like school this year! Everyone is so nice!" Her toothy smile makes your heart swell, your hand running along the top of her head.

"And I can't wait to hear all about it," you beam, watching her take a bite out of the treat while sitting comfortably on the couch where her iPad is charging.

The simplicity of the evening is what naturally has your mind flooded with thoughts of what once was. 

Freshly graduating high school, you weren't quite showing, yet upon the discovery of your pregnancy which is something you were thankful for. Your parents divorced when you were a freshman, with Monnie and you being a year apart, (also her being closer to your father, while you were closer to your mother). The two of you ultimately decided to live in separate houses. Monnie being completely unaware of your social life the same as you were hers. Well, when it mostly came to boys. Monnie happened to fall in love later; meeting Yoongi in college, both falling head over heels in love that led him to proposing within two years. Now, the two are expecting a baby boy. This time it is your turn to be an aunt.

"Well, well, if it isn't my favorite nemesis," Monnie waddles into the living room, her hand resting on top of her swollen belly; Yoongi follows behind her, shaking his head at her joking tone.

"Do arch nemesis buy coffees for their loved ones?" you lift the drink tray of coffees into her line of vision, "Decaf for you, Preggers."

Playfully snatching it from your hands, she takes a quick sip, "Ugh, I need something hell of a lot stronger.” 

Yoongi chuckles, planting a sweet kiss to Monnie's temple, "I think childproofing is no longer of concern, Drunkard.” 

Monnie scoffs, "Well, excuse me, Curly," her eyebrows raise while a tug of a flippant sneer aims back at her husband, "How about you carry this infant for nine months within your womb that deprives you of your weekly festivities.”

Yoongi sips his coffee in amusement, "I thought you said you got drunk off my love. Isn't that enough?"

"I-" Monnie pauses, not expecting such a soft retort that she can't deny. She shrugs before leaning into him as he wraps an arm around her.

"Get a room before I regurgitate," you tease, cackles echoing within the living room. After a few more conversations, Monnie and Yoongi head home. Night comes quicker than you anticipate, which brings you to tucking Mae into bed, kissing her forehead before turning to waltz to your bedroom.

"Mommy?"

You halt at the sound of your daughter's soft voice, arching an eyebrow in concern,

"Everything alright, Mae?" Her almond eyes show a sadness you are familiar with- especially when something has been weighing on her mind- something you have feared since she became old enough to talk. A subject you're not sure you're ready to talk about. A pout forms on her lips as she bundles closer into her covers.

"I saw a lot of families today," your shoulders tense, heart beginning to thud louder beneath you while sorrow overwhelms your chest.

"My teacher actually thought Aunt Monnie and Uncle Yoongi were my mom and dad," her eyes meet yours, reflecting the same eyes you try to keep suppressed in the back of your brain, but sometimes that's hard to do- especially when her heart is as pure as his was.

"Mommy?" Her sweet voice breaking you from your trance, you dread the topic more than you'd like to admit- also wondering how long you may have been zoned out just a moment ago.

"Yes, love?" You try to pretend you're not nervous, which is extremely difficult to do because it's written all over your face.

"Do I-?" Mae begins, gulping carefully before continuing, "Do I... Have a dad?"

Your shoulders fall expectedly at her question, your eyes immediately gazing at the bed covers your hands are gripping. Swallowing, you're trying to gather what little words you have spiraling relentlessly to the point you feel faint. How can you answer her? How can you tell her how cowardly you were? Running from him to keep him from giving up on his dreams? Leaving for the fear of him rejecting you? Rejecting your daughter? His daughter?

You left him without any warning. Something you never thought you would do. Pregnancy wasn't part of the plan, but you are thankful it happened. Although, every day you wonder what it would be like if her father was or had been in Mae's life. Would you be where you are now?

"Honey," you murmur, wishing you could muster the strength to answer her, "It's time for bed, okay? Mommy's got work in the morning," you can hardly meet her eyes- brimmed with tears. But instead of questioning you, her small hand reaches forward to hold yours, and all you can do is let your tears pang the comforter. "I love you so much,"

"I love you, too, Mommy."

Wiping away your tears once you re-tuck Mae into bed for the night, you briskly walk to your room, shutting the door behind you. Now you rush to your closet to find a bin you keep all your old journals in. It doesn't take long before you find it; a journal you kept in college. Nearly torn to pieces it seems yet held together just enough to keep the written pages intact. You flip through the sheets until you find it. The picture of you and Mae’s dad taped onto one of the pages; you run your fingers along both your smiling faces as a tear slaps onto the paper. You carefully remove the photo, folding it in half and tiptoeing to the kitchen to place it safely within your purse. One day, you promise yourself, you'll show it to Mae- you'll finally find the strength to reveal who her father is. Because your daughter deserves that much.

It was the fighting that brought you here; innumerable nights of hiding in your bedroom, counting down the time until the arguing silences. Holding your sister close while she covers her tear-stained cheeks into your shirt. It was the shouting that brought you to where you are now- back pressed against the crinkled rooftop while your bare feet smooth amongst it. Your parents announced divorce a few days prior, yet the two can't seem to settle things enough to become civil. Although you and your sister have tried to make ends meet, the truce was made that both of you will part ways as well. You would remain here with your mother while Monnie moves in with your father.

The stars stare down at you- shimmering above as if dancing to the songs of the chirping crickets neighboring the night. Warm tears stroke your cheeks, your hands folded upon your stomach while you swallow the sour taste on your tongue. The familiar sound of the treehouse ladder, which is what you typically use to pull your way to the roof, prods you to focus in on what you realize are footsteps. They carefully step onto the roof. The metal clinking sounding until the figure settles beside you, raising their knees while they lean back onto the palms of their hands.

"Your call had me worried," the voice of your best friend brings a relief you've needed all day, but you can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes, "What's up?"

You can feel his gaze- him blinking a few times in reaction to his contact lens, the infamous blink you're so used to seeing. Seokjin nudges you slightly, bringing your attention to reality while you glimpse up at him to notice his recently cut hair gelled to the point it shines beneath the moon.

"They're getting a divorce," you murmur while fresh tears stew, returning your glance to the constellations above in an attempt to distract yourself from the stab beneath your chest. Seokjin's shoulders fall almost brusquely, his lips ajar while his heart aches for you.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry,"

"It's okay," your eyes squeeze shut, "I knew it was coming, I just- I didn't know who else to go to,"

"Hey," voice soft, he slides to lay on his back, his shoulder touching yours just enough to remind you he is here- the comfort of a friend that will do anything to put a smile on your face, "I'm right here."

It doesn't take much for you to bury your face into his chest, muting the sobs that overwhelm your frame in harsh trembles. Your hands grip his shirt to somehow force the pain away. Seokjin visits you nearly every day after school, and tonight was a night he was studying for his midterm. Hence why when you called to find out he was busy, you refused to burden him with your heartache that you merely told him you were fine, just bored out of your mind. Of course, he knew better, dropping his studies to rush to your home- climbing to your rescue to join you underneath the stars. He figured it had to do with your math homework- he didn't expect such saddening news. Yet he holds you tight, wishing there was something he could do to tell you everything will be okay.

'Do I... Do I have a dad?'

A long, dreaded sigh escapes your lips as you lean into your chair; anxiety builds with every passing minute. Work is not helping nor is your mind that happens to be too foggy to concentrate on any tasks at hand. Crossing your arms, pen gripped between your fingers, you still can't help but ponder the one lingering question that refuses to vanish since Mae asked you nearly a week ago.

The picture from your journal lays unfolded in front of you. The computer screen is bright and alert which is the opposite of your current mood. Yet you lean forward, minimizing the blank word document that has sat before you untouched since you've clocked in, and you click online to search through your Facebook. If anything, he must have a profile, something to give you an idea of what he's been up to. Posing your fingers above the keyboard, you hold your breath, typing in his first name just to huff in frustration. You quickly exit out of the screen before it even has a chance to compute what name you were trying to search.

"Fuck," you whisper, running your hands along your face once again, "Why can't I do this?" rubbing your eyes, you lift your head to see the photo of your daughter. She's the only reason you've made it to where you are today. Her patience and understanding for why you don't always have an answer. The trust she has regardless of what situation is thrown your way. You are the strongest woman she knows aside from her favorite auntie though you doubt yourself from time to time. No matter what, even if you were to find him- her father- even if he chooses to remain unheard of once the revelation is made known to him… At least, you have her.

Clicking off the site, you refold the picture of you and Mae's father to settle it within your purse. You know it's wrong. Keeping this from him. But you've done it for so long that you just accept that right now, you need some time. The time that you always assure yourself you have even though you know one day it will run out. Wincing from the pain that waves within your chest, you bury your face into your palms, the tips of your fingers tickled by your hair.

"Having second thoughts?"

When you recognize the voice of Seokjin, a small smile forms on your lips while you raise your head to greet him. Your eyes adjust to the light while you watch him approach with hands in his pockets. He drops into the seat that Min-a had brought in which was positioned next to you. His warmth being so close brings a sense of comfort that you've been needing all day. And despite the sensation that burns in your chest from the attraction, you try to ignore it. You hardly notice that you haven't said a word since he arrived.

"You seem… rattled," he observes, concern shedding from his eyes while he pivots in the chair.

"And, you seem entertained,"

Jin pauses mid-spin and throws you a humorous glance, "You're never too old to swivel, okay," laughter just falls from your smile, him pausing to run his hands together, before turning to face you once again, "Wanna grab some coffee?"

"You act as if you've already had some,"

"One cup is never enough, now let's go,"

The two of you walk to the nearest shop to order your drinks which Jin insists on paying despite your objections. The two of you settle into one of the tables outside. The sun shines high in the sky, causing his hair to glisten as well as the smooth skin of his face. You can't help but take it all in; uncertain of how you could have forgotten such a content face. His stare remains off to the side- investigating the parking lot; unaware of the way you watch him. You are happy to have your best friend from what feels like a lifetime ago, sitting before you as if the friendship had never been lost. When guilt seems to raise its ugly head, your glance drops to stare at your drink curled within your fingers prompting you to twirl the cup. This then becomes the moment where you fixate on the tiny details, such as the perspiration from the melting ice that dampens your fingers.

"You've gone quiet," his voice is tender as it always is when he's concerned, which is something you’re glad to see has never changed.

It really is just like it was back in high school. Suddenly you feel as if all those years away vanish. You are a girl spending time with her best friend. 

Shifting in your seat uncomfortably, you take a moment, swallowing before answering.

"It's Mae's first day of second grade," you lean back in your chair to cross your arms, trying to ease the nerves wanting to plague your mind, "And... I think it's safe to say I'm more nervous than she was this morning.”

Trying to make light of the situation, Jin lets out a breathy laugh of understanding. However, when your smile slowly falls into an anxious line, he can't help but intercede.

"Hey," he reaches over to rest his fingers upon yours, the shape of them igniting memories from the times you'd tease him (a cute trait about him amongst many) which he'd retort with mentioning how bad your hair frizzes when it's humid. 

Your eyes never leave the scene of your fingers touching. The desire to interlace them has never been so strong- something you hadn't thought of before with him. 

He must have mistaken your stare of one of discomfort, so he quickly brings his hand back to his coffee to take a quick sip, "If she's anything like you, which I'm pretty positive she is," he tilts his head, the serenity pooling within his gaze bores into yours, "She's going to be just fine."

The rest of the time is spent slowly walking back to work. Your shoulder brushing slightly below his. The urge to want to hold his hand is still present although you're uncertain if he will reject you which is something you'd rather not be embarrassed by. But his words from nearly ten minutes ago spin profusely like a record.

Seokjin isn't angry with you, except that's something you're oblivious of. On the contrary, he finds you the most determined human being to walk the planet. He doesn't see your daughter as a secret, he sees her as someone who fueled you to become the best mother and person you can be. He sees your leaving as taking responsibility upon yourself and whoever the father of Mae is. Though he thinks highly of you, he is also oblivious of the one detail that is too soon to reveal. The father has no idea of Mae's existence, which is something you know would upset Seokjin if he were to find out.

It's then Jin glimpses at you, your worried expression evident, "She's going to be fine," he reassures you. 

The road soon leads to the parking lot of your job when the courage to reach for his long fingers turns into a reality.

Damn, y/n. I never thought you would be so bold, you thought to yourself.

You haven’t been here very long. But it appears that none of it matters when it comes to being with Seokjin. The years separated doesn’t feel so foreign to you but a fond memory that follows you wherever you go. 

Yes, you have wanted to hold his hand long before this exact moment.

His eyebrows raise in surprise, but you refrain from averting your gaze, letting the corners of his eyes crinkle from the side grin that tugs upon his lips. With the sensation of his fingers sliding to fully intertwine yours, you hardly register the time that's passing, but you're so enthralled by the kindness he's never rid of that you don't want to move.

"Thank you, Jin," your voice softer than the wind breezing through the ruffling trees. He squeezes your hand once before nodding, hoping that after all this time you'll finally see what's been standing right in front of you.

Mae traces each letter carefully onto the notebook paper until everything upon her heart has been written. The assignment today is to write a note to someone special whether it be a family member, a friend, or a person in uniform one may know. Once the projects are graded, the messages will be returned for each student to give the letter to the person they wrote it to. Sadness overwhelms her heart while she scribbles down the final sentences, soon rising from her seat to lay the paper onto Mr. Park's desk.

"Thank you, Mae," he grins, accepting the paper, "Everything going okay with today's assignment?"

"Yes, sir," she nods politely, remembering to greet her teacher the way her mom taught her.

"Good," Mr. Park smiles, proud that his students so far have been doing well with the English portion of his lessons, "Any questions?"

"No, sir," Mae replies, turning on a heel to be seated at her desk.

Once all the papers are collected, Mr. Park begins the math lesson. Mae is hardly able to focus because the one thing she can't seem to shake is the burning question she has yet to know the answer to.

Transitioning to the new school has gone smoothly: her gradually making new friends, and Mr. Park is enthusiastic with the way he teaches. She enjoys coming here almost every day.

There's just something missing.

There's a half of her reason for existing- one she has questioned since she became old enough to notice that her tiny family wasn't complete. One she wishes she can tell her day to just as she does with you. She wants to know who this missing piece is, and though she has no idea where to start, she refuses to lose hope. Reaching for her pencil, she copies down each math problem Mr. Park adds to the board wishing nothing more than to hear your voice, telling her everything will be okay.

Sometimes, at night, before Mae goes to sleep, she pulls out a journal Aunt Monnie bought her a while back. The journal Mae writes letters to her father in- telling him about her days spent with you. Days where she's sad and wishes she could meet him. Days where she mentions her favorite hobbies and foods, even animals. It's something you don't know about because Mae knows it would make you sad if you were to read it, and that's the last thing she ever wants for you. 

Overall, she can't help, but close her eyes and make a wish, the same wish she has wished on so many stars. The same wish she put in her letter that is now turned in to Mr. Park,

'I wish I knew where to find you.’ 

"You know you're supposed to put an X there,"

"I'm about to put an X where the sun doesn't shine if you-"

"It's called accuracy, now mark that X on the spot,"

Seokjin pokes the area on the homework assignment- a math problem you have struggled with for the past hour while you huff in frustration. Your clammy palm spreads along your forehead with the geometry problem staring back at you in a torturous taunt.

"Well," you sputter, "who the hell thought it was smart to mingle Algebra with Geometry?" You lean back in your chair, exasperation evident in your limbs that go limp by your sides, "And, who the hell thought we would ever use this in real life situations? Tell me why this is even a thing?"

The windshield wiper laugh is all that serenades your ears while your best friend's shoulders shake hysterically, "Do you plan on becoming a photogrammetrist?"

"A what-"

"A photo. Gram. Et. Rist,"

Silently, you stare at Seokjin with his plump lips poised in a side grin while he attempts to maintain a straight face. With the way your eyebrows are furrowed so hard, you wouldn't be surprised if it resulted with a wrinkle smack dab in the middle of your forehead.

 "... No,"

"Okay," Seokjin claps once, "Then all you have to worry about is acing this class.”

You can't help but squint at him, his amusement making you want to playfully smack his shoulder. Although the idea of having to deal with this class for the rest of the semester makes you thrust your head back with impatience, "And how am I going to do that?"

"Because I'm not going to let you fail," his words catch you off guard, especially when you raise your head to meet his gaze. How you ever deserved a friend as loyal as him you will never be sure, but you give him a soft smile, before he clears his throat, "So, if I were you, I'd write that X so we can focus on finishing the rest of the problem,"

It's hard to snap back to reality just to continue overthinking a Geometry problem, but you reluctantly lean forward anyways, obeying Seokjin's orders. After you carefully write the X onto the lopsided triangle he had drawn earlier, you look over at him, his eyes tunnel visioning before him while he slowly draws a circle.

"Thank you," you murmur, him pausing just to glimpse at you,

"Anytime."

And that's the day Seokjin wanted nothing more than to reach for your hand, but he desisted, merely distracting himself with the shapes and numbers he needed to create in order to help you solve them. Without your knowledge of his inner fight with telling you how he feels, you lay your head on his shoulder, the perfect pillow for your exhausted mind. And him taking in the smell of your lavender shampoo whilst struggling to scribble the final equation beneath one of the angles of another triangle he's drawn. By the end of the night, you are closer to fully understanding the gist of geometry- Seokjin applauding you through it all with him even closer to falling even more in love with the determined soul that you are.

 *

Lack of sleep is an understatement, especially right now while you roam to the breakroom to fill a cup of water just to return to your desk. Namjoon scheduled another project for you to complete within the next week or two- one you must present to your coworkers at the staff meeting coming up soon. The phone has been ringing off the hook- not allowing you one moment of peace. Three weeks officially at the job, and you were able to break from the trainer in confidence that your skills have been met for the company.

Other lists of things tangle a web within your mind; you also have to run to the grocery store to stock up the pantry, write a check for the bills due in a few days, make sure laundry is caught up, and you have yet to unpack some of the boxes from first moving nearly a month ago. Not to mention, calling your sister every other evening to check up on her pregnancy. Despite it all, it's the side grin of a handsome face that waltzes into your office once you settle into your chair to finish up a phone call with a client that fills you with ease. Including him setting a steaming cup of coffee onto a coaster decorating your desk.

"Oh, Jin!" you gasp, "You don't- you didn't- you- I just, why are you so kind," you stammer, causing him to smile at your worn-out frame who ultimately accepts the coffee, blowing into the lid to cool the liquid before taking a sip. 

He descends into his chair, his legs stretching before him while a giddy smile adorns your face. You hate being so obvious, but with the way Seokjin has been visiting you every single workday with laughter and little things you'd never expect him to notice after all this time. It’s as if your heart has finally found something to confide in- a place of serenity.

"Listen, if it's anything like how my first year was here, then caffeine is the treatment to survive," he pokes the back of your hand while your chest burns with an ache forming in your cheeks from hiding the dozens of giddy grins.  

"Thank you," you murmur, your eyes dropping to your coffee cup to twirl it, a habit Seokjin has picked up on as well as the coffee flavors you tend to order. New things about you that he's gradually learning from the girl you no longer are from what feels like a previous life.

"So," he leans forward, resting his elbows upon his knees, both of your eyes connecting while he rubs his hands together, "Have you thought about tonight?"

A knowing smile naturally spreads across your face at his question. A question he asked a few days ago on if you'd like to go on a date one evening. And though that is definitely something you really want, with all the errands you have to run, you know tonight may not work out.

Nipping at your thumb, you contemplate, "Actually, can I make a proposal?"

He investigates your expression, leaning back just enough to fully see your face, "Should I be scared?"

"No," you retort, folding your arms across your desk, "I just- I- I have a lot of errands to run, and I was wondering if you'd like to come with?" His playful gaze softens as you jump to explain, "Mae is staying at my mom's tonight to visit her, or else she'd be with me. I guess, erm, I would just like the company, you know if-if you're up for it, I, uh-"

His large hands move to steal yours which distracts you enough for your words to trail off. His fingers interlock while his sweet expression refuses to break from your nervous face, steadying you just enough to feel the world around you stop.

"Hey," his voice is soft, his face now a few inches from yours, "I'd love to."

It's then your eyes cut to his lips that part just enough to tempt you. The yearn to kiss him waves within your chest and with the way the tips of his thumbs tickle tender circles along the palms of your hands, you know you're a goner. Seokjin leans closer because the desire beckoning you mirrors his own. His nose brushes yours until-

The sudden ring of the phone causes the two of you to jolt. Both pairs of eyes widen as your heart hammers against your rib cage.

"Oh, um, I, um, I better take this," you frantically reach for the phone, Seokjin clearing his throat as he throws you a thumbs up in understanding.

"I'll meet you at your place to pick you up. See you tonight.”

You nod at him whilst simultaneously trying to gather the question the client has on the line. There have been a few guys here and there you tried to court, but you were always way too afraid to take the next step, not only because you were terrified of the commitment, because you also wanted the right person who would protect and care for your daughter as much as you do. You can’t help but wonder how your daughter would feel if you were to admit to her about your interest in your former best friend; in your heart you know Mae would adore Seokjin, and you know Seokjin would do anything for Mae if given the chance. It’s just all in the timing, you try to tell yourself, but you can’t shake the guilt that you are seeing somebody without consulting with how Mae would feel especially since she recently asked about… her dad.

Thankfully, time flies by, until you find yourself preparing for the evening with Seokjin. Him showing up at the time he texted you he'd be arriving, you send a quick message to your mother to check up on Mae, before letting him whisk you away to the world of adulting. The grocery store is a place you never thought would be fun with anyone else other than your daughter. Turns out there is room for one more. Seokjin cracks jokes from left to right in order to ease your nerves. You end up giggling to the point that you can't breathe. As a result, all you can wonder is how you've never seen him in such a different light. In high school, he was strictly a friend to you, nothing more. Yet the way he's making your heart flutter it's as if the universe was made for just the two of you.

Finishing up errands, Seokjin points with his thumb at the remaining boxes you have yet to unpack. The gesture caused you to shrug with the excuse that you'll get to them at some point. This means the only thing left to do (after the two of you file into your home to unload the groceries and put them away) is to throw the laundry in the washer.

"Ugh," you exhale, running tired hands through your hair, "Finally, all done!"

As you are standing there with nothing else that requires immediate attention, you sense a shift in the air between you. It’s no lie that there has been a lingering tension. You meet his gaze. 

Seokjin's breathy laugh escapes through his smile as he approaches you, his hands reaching to settle onto your waist while your arms move to tangle behind his neck. The heat of his chest nearly smothers you with happiness. 

“Finally," he whispers, his forehead pressing to yours while you take in the way his heart is pounding in accord with yours. Unbeknownst to you, his finally isn't said with the same intention as yours. His finally is said with the hope he's never lost in winning your heart, making it a promise to win your heart every single day if you'll let him. When his hands then move slowly to wrap behind your back, your faces cuddle. The feeling of his strong arms holding you so tight you never want him to let go.

He is still mind blowing. Even with just the simple acts of him standing at your doorstep at the start of the evening with the way his hair is tint with slight waviness. His brown eyes timorously meet yours while his hands hide within the pockets of his pants. His loose dark denim jacket swallows his frame while the black hood rests against his back. All of these are simple… but so mind blowing. The way your heart moved at the sight of him, you can hardly register the sentiment you can't put into words. Right now, you are still speechless, you want to get lost in the moment with him. A million moments if possible.

Eyes closed, breathing steady. You kiss him. The warmth and softness of his lips causes you to melt as he leans into you. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss whilst the emotions pour out. Your back presses to the couch from moving backward. His frame towers over you, yet your hands find the tufts of his hair, refusing to let him break the kiss in any way.

Clothes start to fall to the floor once you lead Jin to your bedroom, letting his love overwhelm you in ways you've longed for since the two of you reunited. Bare bodies intertwine underneath the covers. Kisses placed on every inch of your skin, exchanging whispers of admiration for one another with his hands caressing you so gently you can hardly breathe.

The two of you become one, ending the evening with both of you crashing side by side. He immediately turns to hold you while you bundle your face into the crook of his neck. Words aren't needed to fill the silence, just the sound of his breathing and beating heart are enough to make you fall asleep with a smile on your face.

Even when the morning comes, the beams from the sun brighten your bedroom while the happiness creases at the corners of Jin’s eyes. His bare body is still glued to you, and you bundle the covers over your mouth as you timidly return his gaze. The tips of his fingers tickle along your skin while you get lost in him- snuggling you closer just to now tangle his long fingers into your hair at the nape of your neck. Lust grows in the pupils of your eyes as you watch him move to hover above you as things start to get heated yet again and he shuffles to place kisses along your abdomen until he reaches your inner thighs.

Moaning in response to his every touch, the ceiling fan wafts cool air along your exposed frame as Seokjin throws the comforter to the side so he can watch the pleasure fill your expression. Goosebumps domino upon your arms as you try to say his name, hips rising in reaction to the tip of his tongue swiping your heat. He slides forward to add more pressure of his lapping tongue along your entrance while he fully embraces your thighs with each arm. His movements against your core are so enthralling, you curve one of your legs behind his shoulders, “Oh Jin- oh fuck, baby you feel so fucking good- ah!”

Just when your eyes start to roll back, Jin runs his fingers from the middle of your torso to where your nipples start to bud from the chilly air of the room though your body is burning from the intense passion stirring between you two. His tongue still speedily moves continuing to lather up any bit of your taste he can while simultaneously beginning to rub his fingers ever so gently upon your nipples while you moan even louder. The strong sense rising in your core is so strong, your palm slams against the bed frame while Seokjin relentlessly enjoys his time with you.

Jin starts sucking on your clit after circling his tongue over your entrance messily before the orgasm starts to build even more, “Keep going,” you breathlessly say, “Keep going baby, ah-!” Your thighs tense as your body fidgets to the powerful sensation, leaving your thighs clenching as Jin watches you smile at how amazing he feels. “Holy fuck,” you squeal, Seokjin shifting to sit on his knees while his chin glistens from the juice of your heat. You lay there, your limbs feeling limp in response to everything, and your calves are pressed against the side of Seokjin’s frame as he watches you closely, so happy to see the woman of his dreams returning the bliss after all this time. “How am I supposed to recover from that?”

Quickly, the pair of you freshen up after sharing a few more lightheaded chuckles, brushing your teeth, and snickering at the trail of clothes in the hallway. After you mouth wash, Seokjin wraps his arms around you from behind to place a slow kiss to your neck- the heat of his skin causing you to feel dizzy while your core lets out a warm gush for the billionth time within twelve fanatical hours. The way his body moved with yours from the night before has you giddy, and thankful you gave sex another chance. Especially with someone you are truly having deep emotions for. A mischievous tip to the corner of your lips reflects in the bathroom mirror as you reminisce on the way Seokjin easily succumbed you to a desire you are addictingly going to dream about for the rest of your life, so why not return the sinful favor? Spinning in his arms, you flit your gaze along his face while you bite at your bottom lip, “You up for round two? Or would it be round three? I wasn’t done,” you coo seductively, just to cuddle to his face again.

“Oh no, what are you trying to do to me?” Seokjin moves a hand to cup your cheek, kissing your lips once while you whisper against his mouth.

“I said…” you murmur, gliding your fingers from his v-line to his chest, “I. Wasn’t. Done.” It doesn’t matter how tall Jin is compared to you. You push up on your tip toes to crash your lips more passionately with his while you push him in the direction of your shower. The minty taste of his tongue collides with yours as you then graze your teeth along his bottom lip giving it a nice, slow suck. If you are going to tease him, you want to tease him just right. Letting you take control, Seokjin inhales a quick breath as you trace his face, reaching behind him to switch on the shower, waiting for the steam of the water to start engulfing the bathroom.

“I’m a little scared,” Seokjin teases with a grin, and you nearly fall into his frame at the feel of his erection now pressing against your figure. This is a side of you that you never thought he’d see, but you do not want the excitement to end here.

“Step in,” you say softly, feeling the water drip between your fingers. Jin obeys immediately and you jerk the shower curtain closed as soon as your bodies mold underneath the pouring water. Arms holding each other tightly, you gasp into his kiss as the pair of you stay entranced, and his eyes widen in surprise when you slightly pull away just enough to give him a hinting glance. At this point, he is innocently reaching for the shampoo to start massaging your tangled strands, but you have something else in mind. Droplets of water linger upon his skin while you start to kneel, taking in the sight of his being which prompts your mouth to water.

“Oh,” Seokjin realizes, trying with all his might not to pounce on you with what he is witnessing before him. He is so turned on by you he can hardly stand it. You start with his tip, clamping your lips around it to run your tongue over his precum before you start to allow him further into your mouth. Taking an agonizingly long suck, you are even more aroused by the low moan he releases. Your hands move to grip his hips when you start hollowing your cheeks to suck even faster, bobbing your head while hot water trickles down your back. He doesn’t use his hand to guide you, he simply rests his hand on your head to keep himself from flipping you over to clap against your ass while you scream his name, letting you continue to give him the high of his life. You are surprised with how much drive all of this is giving you and maybe you didn’t realize how deprived you have been from physical intimacy.

Something about Seokjin just gave you the ultimate determination to please him and you know it is because of how much you have fallen for him in such a short amount of time. One palm moves to start rubbing his scrotum, him leaning his head back in pure ecstasy as you continue to move your mouth deliciously over his erection. You don’t even know where time has taken you at this point other than your back is on the bottom of the tub while Seokjin thrusts inside you- lips clinging to yours while you gasp in awe at how nothing, but magic seems to capture in every caress of his kiss.

Finishing, the water washes away his cum that seeps onto your inner thighs. “Oops,” he chuckles, falling into the crook of your neck while you squeeze your legs from the sensitivity.

“I’m not complaining,” you smile, eventually helping each other stand to start the shampooing. You don’t want to say it too soon, but everything he has done for you since you have known him makes you want to say it. Looking into the sweetness in his eyes, you want to confess exactly every thought turning within your brain cells. But you can’t and you are uncertain of why. Or maybe you just refuse to admit why because you haven’t given your daughter the closure about who her dad is. And your daughter comes first.

After cleaning up, the squeak of the shower knob signals the water being cut off and you reach for a few towels so that the pair of you can dry off. Jin slips out to start gathering his clothes knowing he has a few errands to run regarding work, and you must prepare to pick up Mae once you get the house organized properly. Wrapping a towel around your bare frame, Seokjin is fully dressed ruffling his hair while he waits in the hallway for you. He holds your outfit from the day before in his palm, yet you swiftly brush the tangles from your wet hair before parading to where he stands.

Sadness starts to etch in your expression, “I don’t want you to go.” You murmur, him handing you your clothes, so he can free his arms to hug you closer. Peering up at him, he leans in to press a slow kiss to your lips before resting his forehead to yours. There’s a strong silence between you two as Seokjin battles internally with what he wants to say, but he bites his tongue. He doesn’t want to go either, and his feelings that he has always had for you have returned but in full force- overwhelming him especially as he holds you in this very moment. How can he say it? He has been waiting for what feels like his whole life to tell you how he feels, so where does he even start?

Being with you is magic, it’s like he is in Heaven, and now you are finally sharing this dream of being together with him, and in a way, it doesn’t feel real all the same. “Trust me, I have every intention of seeing you outside of work.”

“Good,” you smile, “You’re fun.”

“Was I not before?” He smirks, moving to kiss your forehead, the tip of your nose, your closed eyelids- he peppers kisses down the side of your jaw while you teasingly shove him away.

“Eh, you talked about math too much,”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about me doing that anymore. That ship sailed when I turned twenty-seven. Now, I talk about physics.”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you scoff, “Same damn thing.”

Seokjin kisses you quickly, “Is that so,” he remarks, smacking your toweled ass once you turn on a heel.   

 *

"Is there a reason why you're glowing. You’re acting like you got laid." Monnie promenades along the house, cleaning out small boxes you have yet to unpack still; glaring at her when she attempts to lift heavier boxes which of course you rush to take them from her. "I have muscles, ya know," your sister arches an eyebrow while she rests her hands on her hips.

"Yeah, muscles that need to remain intact when holding your soon-to-be child," you remind her, completely dismissing the surprise you feel at how well your sister knows you after all. You set the box onto the dining table. Wiping the dust off your hands, you meet her shaking head, "And you're not supposed to be lifting anything whatsoever; hence why I have a much safer favor to summon from you,"

Monnie tilts her head, "Depends,"

"I'll buy you the reddest, most bitter wine whenever you are on maternity leave and unpregnant,"

"I'm listening,"

"Sit down,"

"Not until you tell me why you're more chipper than Yoongi's dog."

Chortling, you shake your head at your sister's consistent arched eyebrow.

"Maybe," you rush into the living room to finish dusting the shelves, your voice echoing behind you, the sound of Monnie's hands reaching into the cardboard box heard beneath your voice, "Maybe I have met someone. Well… re-met someone… and got laid."

"Um, excuse me!?” Your sister gasps, "You know I'm going to need more details than that! Do I know him?" Though Monnie's voice sounds concentrated, your auditory senses tune in to the sound of rapidly flipping pages. “And… Was it delicious?”

Snickering to yourself about her choice of complimenting words, you pause, "Possibly, you may know him. He was my best friend in high school if you remember. Happens to work at the same company I do now. Kim Seokjin?" Just the memory of his gentle fingertips running along your arms the following morning- his gaze never faltering while he soaked in every inch of your face. The blooming smile that seems to spread upon your lips images the swelling joy within your heart. “And yes, he is very good in the bedroom.”

You hear Monnie fake gag in disgust despite her asking about your sex life which prompts you to shake your head as you giggle. "Oh girl, he is cute! How could you not tell me about this hunk muffin? I can see why you finally got re-defloured."

"Please, Monnie, for the love of fucking sanity, do not say that phrase ever again!" you snort, then you pause in surprise, "you found him that fast? How-?"

"I'm on the senior section of your yearbook, and he's the only Seokjin I see so far, so girl go get that bread and devour it,"

"Gladly," you circle the living room for any spots you may have missed- the turning of pages being the main sound the next few minutes while you hum your favorite song beneath your breath.

"Hey!" Your sister's voice calls, "I didn't know Mae's teacher went to school with you!?"

"Oh? Maybe she and I were friends! What's her name?" Giving one more swipe onto the bureau holding the TV, you walk back to the dining room where Monnie examines the pictures within your old yearbook. When your sister's focus doesn't dissipate, you snap your fingers, "Hey, are you present?"

"Oh, sorry, I got distracted," she turns the page, "Oh, look, I found you!"

"Ick!” you raise your hands high while you slam your eyes closed, “Please don't show me the younger me. I’d rather talk about sex.”

"Wait a minute," your sister's eyebrows furrow while her stare remains fastened to the book, "Oh my, how he's grown!"

"He?" Confusion clouds your expression, especially since you assumed Mae's teacher was a female.

"Yeah, who did you expect?" 

Mouth ajar, you comb back through your memory while Monnie meets your gaze. "Now that I think of it... I don't think anyone ever told me who Mae's teacher is. Here, just let me take a look at the picture,"

Monnie shrugs, "Okay," handing the open book to your outstretched hand. Your fingertips run along the smooth page until your eyes find the face you didn't expect to see. The pang of pure shock stuns your entire being while your eyes enlarge- heart pounding luridly you hardly hear Monnie's concerned tone trying to catch your attention, "So, were you close friends or what?" Hands unsteady, goosebumps raise among your arms- it's like you're frozen in time- eyes refusing to avert from the photo staring back at you. "Y/N? What's going on? Did he hurt you or something? What happened?" your sister's voice blurs through the fog suffocating your mind while nausea gathers in the pit of your stomach.

"Oh my God," you mouth, "Oh my God," heated tears stain your wide eyes while your body trembles uncontrollably. Your throat feels so tight that you aren’t even sure if you are truly breathing.

"Y/N, what the hell is wrong with you!? I seriously don't have time to cater to everyone's needs here. I have needs and that is this baby needs to come out so if you do not start talking, I’m-"

"It's- it's- I-" you stammer, feeling so faint, you are surprised you are still standing.

"Were you two a... Couple?"

Your eyes immediately meet your sister’s infuriated gaze, terror takes its toll over you before you can say more, pleading for her to interpret whatever attempt at telepathy you're sending her while the yearbook slips from your numb fingers just to smack the ground. "Did you-" It's then it dawns on her, words dying off her tongue- eyebrows rising, lips parting in a small gasp; hand raising to cover her mouth when she puts two and two together. ".... Oh," she steps backward as if to steady herself from the mutual tremor overwhelming both your systems. "Holy shit," she breathes, bending forward to grip a chair in front of her. Your eyelids are heavy when you fight through the dizzy spell swarming your fatigued head, your mind hardly registering your sister's continued hunched frame before the sound of water splats onto the wooden floor, jolting you to your senses. "Y/N," Monnie's voice breaks in pain, trying to endure the harsh contraction waving within her body, "Y/N, call Yoongi. Now. AAGH-"

"Oh, shit- oh, shit, oh shit, oh shit!" Realization hits you after your feet rush to where your purse is, fumbling with quivering fingers for your car keys, thrusting your sister's arm around your shoulders while you lead her to the passenger seat- your sister is about to have a baby, and she's about to have this baby soon. Monnie's breaths are steady, yet she winces with every contraction, your panicking expression hardly able to focus on the road the moment you dial Yoongi's number, swerving out of the driveway in the direction of the hospital, "Are you okay!?"

"Yes, I'm fine, I'm not letting this baby be birthed in your damn car, now drive!"

It doesn't take long until you've reached Yoongi- him frantic once it's revealed he's about to be a father, him also promising to pick up your mother and to pick up Mae from school- the three planning to meet you and Monnie at the hospital as soon as possible. Your sister grips the handle above the car window, inhaling and exhaling deeply with her eyes slammed shut. Your heart rams against your sternum, sweat beading on your forehead focusing solely on the road ahead still processing what has happened in such little time.

Mae's father has been right in front of her since you moved back without your knowledge- the guilt encompassing your mind faster than you can decipher- and right now, your sister is in labor, relying on your distressed driving to get both of you to the hospital in one piece.

Though the sudden turn of events shoves the lingering discovery in the back of everyone's minds for the time being laying open at home, in disarray on the floor holds a picture that was taken senior prom of high school, the night emotions were professed, and slovenly kisses were shared; one that unraveled the familiar pair of eyes squinted from a wide smile.

Despite it all, there is only one person other than your daughter that you can't stop thinking about, and with one swoop, you dial his number, inwardly begging just to hear his voice,

"Jin," you choke, fighting the tears the second he answers, "Jin, I need you,"

 *

Seokjin left for college long before you greeted your senior year with a bang, heart moved on from your parents’ divorce, and you and your sister had a bond of steel, yet there were some things you limited from telling her. You never expected to meet him, the man who would capture your heart in ways you couldn’t explain, on your very first day of senior year, his hair tousled, eyes searching the hallways to memorize where he would be going, lips pursed in concentration. You offered to help him- revealing schedules to see the two of you shared a few of the same classes- walking together side by side sharing laughter and contagious smiles- your heart pounding with every brush of his warmth. You informed Seokjin of the newfound love every afternoon when you’d call, completely unaware of the pain you were causing him with every story.

It took months before your crush kissed you for the first time- lips gentle on yours, experiencing new things together- whispering dreams into the night when he would sneak visits to the treehouse while your mother was asleep. It was toward the end of the school year, after applying to several different colleges between the pair of you, that he was accepted to the university of his dreams- a full-ride scholarship that would bring him one step closer to fulfilling his dream job as a psychologist - even observed by coaches of college sports teams who begged him to join their sides.

The same day he reported his exciting news to you- was the same day you gripped the end of the pregnancy test, the red plus sign burning into your memory forever- while an overwhelming toll of fear traced every fiber of your being. You couldn’t destroy his chance- his chance of gaining a college degree, to play his favorite sports and possibly winning the world as your heart soared for his every success. Even seeing Seokjin when he’d be home visiting from college, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him of your plan; knowing he would talk you out of it if you were to confess.

It was graduation day when you last saw the father of your child- he kissed you so lovingly that you couldn’t hold the tears back while he hugged you.

“I love you,” he pressed his forehead to yours, assuming your tears were from accomplishing high school, unbeknownst to the real reason, your heart was bursting at the seams. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” you murmured, his thumbs stroking your cheeks while his nose traces the tip of yours. “I’ll never forget you,” You whispered. He was distracted by his buddies who surrounded him with handshakes, his ears missing your final statement. His happiness was all you cared about, and with one final goodbye, you rushed home, packed your bags, and left as soon as you double checked your savings account for money, you saved up from your job you obtained your junior year. You blocked every number on your phone aside from your parents and your sister- notifying them of your pregnancy when you stumbled upon Monnie in a convenience store an hour out of the way- a convenience store her boyfriend at the time worked at- her eyes wide with the sight of your bulging belly- realization mingled with anger evident within her expression while pained tears brimmed her eyes. You cautiously ran to your car, refusing to look back. 

It took the birth of your daughter, holding her in your arms for you to finally find the joy you had robbed yourself from for what seemed like a lifetime. Her small smile brought a new hope- a new beginning. At the time, you knew you could do this- be a mother. Be her everything- the same as she will be your everything- promising to love her unconditionally until the day you die. Even if the picture of his face haunts your dreams for the rest of your life, you'll accept it, because at least you have the bundle swaddled in a pink blanket, beaming up at you as if you're the only one she will ever need.

*

Seokjin fumbles with his car keys while he enters the elementary school, clipping them to his belt loop. The clear hallways pave glistening tile floors underneath long lit lights that align the ceilings.

Scents of disinfectants waft to his nostrils while he grips his coffee cup, waving toward the principal, Kim Taehyung, who he used to go to college with back in the day. You’re the only one etched in his mind- the way the sun glimmered upon your face until your eyes fluttered open to shine with the rays. Or the way you kissed him so lovingly before he left- returning a smile to him every time he steps foot into your office.

After seven years without your presence, he never expected for you to return- pulling his heart into your direction absentmindedly, yet this time he can finally express his heart- something he never dreamed he’d have the chance to do. Guilt sweeps within his conscious for there is a secret he has kept from you- one he felt wasn’t his place to say, yet he approaches the classroom, knocking on the already open door.

“Ah, Seokjin!” Jimin’s cheery tone echoes, him immediately rising from his creaking chair, “Did Taehyung put you up to it?” Seokjin chuckles, Jimin reaching for his hand just to pull him in a quick hug.

“Nah, I just wanted to give you my condolences,” Seokjin’s eyes hold concern when Jimin’s face contorts in a grim expression. Jimin’s grandmother, who happened to be the inspiration for his switch of majors in college, passed away a week ago- Seokjin received the news from mutual friends promising to pay Jimin a visit, “I’m really sorry about your grandma. She was very kind,” Jimin’s Grandmother really helped the two of them throughout college when they would come home to visit- cooking them meals and sharing words of wisdom when they felt like giving up.

Memories that helped Seokjin and Jimin heal when they lost you.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it,” Jimin pats the back of Seokjin’s shoulder to rest his hands upon his hips, “But, anyway, enough about me, what has been going on with you? Any promotions at your job? I know you mentioned a few new people were going to be hired a month ago,”

Seokjin turns to lean against the whiteboard which happens to be freshly cleaned, scoping the empty classroom assuming the kids are at recess. A grin tugs on his lips especially when a flash of your smile sends a warmth he seems to miss- though, he clears his throat, trying to mask the awkward tension that he doesn’t want Jimin to detect.

“Everything’s been great with the new hires, but as far as a promotion, Namjoon and I have discussed it, but I turned it down. It would mean I’d have to move companies, and I don’t necessarily want to do that-”

Frilly voices mingled with padding footsteps resonate within the hallway distracting Seokjin as his eyes trace to the door of the classroom. “You turned it down? I thought you’ve been waiting for this for years!” Jimin, being immune to the sounds since he hears it consistently, waits patiently for Seokjin to reply. But it’s the silhouette of a young girl skipping to a desk following suit to other pupils doing the same that catches Seokjin off guard to the point his focus dissolves. Her toothy smile identical to the photo placed upon your desk, the realization hitting Seokjin in a pained confusion.

“Mae?” Seokjin murmurs to the point it’s inaudible. His eyebrows furrow, the coffee cup sitting loosely in his hand.

“Hey, Jin,” Jimin’s forehead crinkles in worry, Seokjin stammering when he returns to reality, gripping the coffee cup tighter to prevent it from slipping to the floor, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he replies, eyes scanning Jimin’s desk with the realization that there aren’t any frames of his daughter- the one sitting across from him in the classroom- which plagues the realization that Seokjin has battled with for some time since he reunited with you.

Mae’s gaze flickers between the two men- wondering who the man conversating with Mr. Park is- his hand shoving into his pants pocket while he holds a coffee cup in his free hand. She tilts her head curiously when the men’s’ tones are hushed- that’s when a friend of hers taps on her shoulder to show her a drawing she made during class earlier that morning.

“Sorry, heartburn,” Seokjin’s save seems believable once he pats his chest- Jimin offering an antacid which Seokjin politely declines. When a call at Jimin’s desk rings, he apologetically looks at Jin with a ‘duty calls’ look.

“Well, it was great seeing you,” Jimin shakes his hand, “Taehyung’s golf crew are heading out next weekend. I figured he mentioned it to you, but if you’d like to come, I can send you all the details,”

“Of course, thank you,” Seokjin shares his goodbyes until Jimin answers the phone. Jin steps out of the classroom wishing he had fresh air to breathe. From what he can tell, Jimin is unaware of the little girl who is his own flesh and blood; something Seokjin knows isn’t his place to know, yet the inward betrayal- what if she was his daughter? Would you have kept this away from him? He always assumed that you and Jimin had everything figured out, but with this epiphany, now it all makes sense as to why Jimin never spoke of Mae because he clearly has no idea that he is her father. Seokjin doesn’t want to be selfish- that’s the last thing he ever wants to be- but, in this situation, upon the discovery of your deepest secret, he doesn’t know how to process it- trying so hard to understand your side even though it’s never been discussed.

Sprinting to his car, he settles inside, turning on the air conditioner in full blast while he sets his coffee cup into a cup holder, running his palms along his face tuning everything out. Everyone has secrets and nobody is perfect, but here he is struggling with the thought of possibly being a hypocrite. How can he be angry that you kept your daughter a secret from her father when he’s been best friends with Jimin ever since you left? And how can he admit to Jimin that he’s in love with a woman who happens to be the mother of his daughter?

The pain surges through Seokjin’s chest, stabbing every fiber of his heart- wishing nothing more than to hear your voice. Something that will take away this agony even if for a moment. Minutes drag until the vibration of his cellphone prompts him to open his anxious eyes, reaching for the device to see your name lit up on the screen.

It doesn’t take long before he answers, “Hello?” He breathes, relief flooding his senses.

“Jin,” your voice wavers, “Jin, I need you.”

 -

Sparse memories flicker from when you were in labor, blurrily seeing the rectangular lights on the ceiling as you were raced to a hospital room. Fear gripping your figure amongst the pain of contractions and going through the birth of your daughter all alone. You remember the comfort of the nurses and the kindness of the doctor, and she talked you through every step until your daughter was finally bundled in your arms. Now, it’s your sister’s turn. Although, you have no recollection of how you made it to the emergency entrance where your heart is pounding through your temples and the anxiety is roaring inside your chest.

Monnie breathes as steadily as she can as you rush to the passenger door to retrieve her. You are uncertain how you even alerted the hospital staff to make their way to your car- an attractive, young guy in scrubs with the name tag, Jeongguk, rolls a wheelchair to Monnie’s side while another nurse in blue scrubs named LenLen tries to get the information from you as you muster whatever words you can to answer the questions to lead Monnie to her main physician for the birth. You do not even remember helping Monnie out of the car, and when you start to follow the nurses wheeling your sister into the building, you hardly expect the grasp of your shirt dragging you to your sister’s gritted teeth and desperate plea.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” Monnie can hardly speak through the pain, her cheeks flushing as you stare at her incredulously.

“What do you mean what am I doing!? You are about to have a baby! I’m not fucking leaving your side!”

“The hell you are! You’ve got to tell Mae’s teach- father, you are going to tell Mae’s father everything before I put you in the hospital myself!”

“Did you not hear me!? I’m not leaving your side-”

“I’ll be in labor longer than you think. And, if you don’t leave now, you’re going to run out of time- AAGH- So GO- AAGH-”

“Monnie-!” The nurses are helplessly watching the pair of you verbally battle match loudly, and you try to calm down, but right now there is no such thing as calming down. “What about Mae!? I can’t just leave her! And what about Jin? He’s on his way!”

“I will take care of Mae-!” Monnie growls in pain. “I have Yoongi and Mom, and I’m sure Dad already booked a flight, so I will not be alone. And I’ll tell your boyfriend everything, but Mae is your priority right now and it’s about fucking time that she knows who her father is,” Monnie tries to meet your enlarged, hysterical eyes.  “I know you will be back as soon as you do the right thing. Now, hurry up and fucking go!”

“Okay!” You reply breathlessly, tears you hadn’t realized were muddling your vision fall down your cheeks in tepid paths. “Okay,” you choke, “I’ll do it.”

Monnie’s fingers detach from your shirt and you, crying, run to your car, hardly knowing what else to do other than panic. This is it. This is it- you have no choice but to face your biggest fear, and now that you know Mae’s father has been right here all along, you can’t help the humiliation you feel and are going to feel once you share to him the biggest secret you have ever kept from him. Choking back sobs, you barely can remember what the name of her school is from how distraught you are, but your shaking fingers try to type the name you believe it is until the GPS pulls it up.

There is no escaping this, and you have the route ready as the voice directs you on every turn.

 -

His kiss made you melt every time, and the first time you both became one, he was so gentle, and loving despite the discomfort of it all. Of course, the curiosity and the learning involving intimacy became an addiction you two couldn’t stop, especially when your body was starting to enjoy it. You weren’t on birth control in high school, so it should have been expected that you would have become pregnant. But what you didn’t expect was how you were going to break the news to him when he had so much on his plate already. Kids were never a conversation unless marriage was the topic. Being so young, marriage was a huge assumption during that time because you thought you would get to spend the rest of your life with him.

You were in love with him once, and the thought of seeing him again scares you. Not only because you are about to tell him something that you have no idea what his reaction will be, but that his reaction will be what will prompt whether you tell Mae the truth or not. Mae being front row in her teacher’s life, why would you want her to know who her father is if her father doesn’t accept her after all? What if he becomes so angry with you that he dismisses his own daughter? And do you blame him? Of course not. You hiding your daughter away from him is your mistake. Or was it really a mistake to begin with?

Guiltily, you know what you did was wrong. He was never the kind of person who would mistreat someone from what you remember, and in your heart, you know he would have been a great father. But it’s never too late. Mae is only seven years old. She still has her whole life ahead of her, so maybe… just maybe he will see past your betrayal and give Mae a chance to be in his life, but as her father, not her elementary school teacher. How is this even a possibility? You could kick yourself for not paying attention. It’s been a month and you still had no idea who Mae’s teacher was. But is this how it all was supposed to pan out?

When the school comes into sight, you brace yourself as you turn into the parking lot. You notice the buses are gone and the majority of the cars seen most likely belong to the teachers finishing out whatever paperwork they have on their desk. You wonder which car is his, and you choose a spot closest to the entrance. Even though the weather isn’t that chilly yet, your hands feel like ice, and as you robotically walk towards the building after exiting your car, you breathe in and out deeply before reaching the door.

The nerves are so strong, your head starts to ache, and embarrassingly, as Mae’s mother, you don’t even know where Mae’s classroom is. Someone in your peripherals must have noticed your confused state and approached, “Hello, I’m Hoseok, the assistant principal, do you need assistance?”

Jumping slightly, you hope he doesn’t notice the redness of your eyes from the crying, but you manage to steady yourself enough to force a smile. “Yes, I’m looking for my daughter’s classroom. I, um, have a meeting with her teacher.”

“Ah, of course! I hope it’s all good news to report. We are sending out their progress papers soon with their current grades, but if you have any further questions, you can contact her teacher via email. May I ask who it is?”

“Yes!” You appreciate his smile and his willingness to help, because you are so frazzled, you are shocked that you are speaking anything audibly. “Um, Mr. Park. Is he still in?” You try not to make it sound like a question to feel like you are a good mother for knowing, not really, who your daughter’s teacher is. Plus, you really are hoping he is still here.

“Right down this hallway to the left, classroom 58.” Hoseok points in the direction and you thank him profoundly for his help, clutching the strap of your purse while your mouth runs dry. The swarm of nerves in your stomach grows stronger to the point that you feel nauseous as you step down the hallway while your vision blurs with more tears. 

C’mon, you can do this. You must do this. Mae deserves this. He deserves to know.

You pause when the number 58 above the door frame enters your line of vision, and you feel the ice of your hands start to frost your entire body. This is it; you exhale slowly, this is it. Stepping cautiously to the door that you see is wide open, you carefully peer in, your heart stopping as your fingers move to press against your trembling lips. He nonchalantly is shifting through a pile of papers, his expression concentrating as his cheek rests against his fist from how his elbow is leaned on the top of his desk.

He is exactly how you remember him except his hair is a tad longer, and his jawline is much sharper from aging into his mid-twenties. His thick lips are lined pleasantly in a faint grin and a Styrofoam cup rests diagonally from the papers. He still looks beautiful, so innocent. How could you have ever left him the way you did? Now, things are different, your heart belongs to someone else, and you hope he has his heart set on someone else too and if he does, will that person be accepting of his seven-year-old daughter? Or, that you are from his past and will now be his present if he does happen to accept his daughter once it is revealed to him? You honestly have no idea what to expect from any of this, but you check out his left hand to see that there is no wedding ring though that doesn’t always mean anything considering people forget or have lost jewelry of any kind before.

You know you can’t stand there staring at him forever, yet you genuinely don’t even know where to start, so you just… start. 

“Jimin,” you say his name for the first time in years, and it sounds so bittersweet coming from your mouth. He lifts his head immediately to the sound of his name with an evident smile probably assuming you’re a coworker, and it takes him a few seconds to register exactly who he is seeing. Jimin’s eyes widen in profound astonishment as recognition forms in his expression, his mouth dropping open in silence.

Standing to his feet, he can hardly believe who he is staring at, and he refrains from rubbing his eyes. “Y/N? Is that… you?”

You can’t help the tears. Hot and streaming down your face, you sniffle while you try to nod and force a timid smile. “It is me, Jimin. How’ve… how’ve you been?”

Jimin’s expression shifts as he analyzes your words. Of all the things to say, after what felt like an eternity…you ask how he has been doing. In all honesty, he would have done the exact same thing.

When faced with the past, what else is there to say? There are missing pieces that need to be mended…but not all at once. 

Jimin has to respond somehow. 

“I don’t… I don’t even know where to begin, I’ve just been, well,” he has a hint of a nervous smile on his face, probably feeling just as awkward as you feel, and you are so overwhelmed by how kind he has remained all these years. Eventually he gestures with an arm toward the empty desks. “I’ve been- been working, but goodness, how long has it been? How are you doing?”

“I’m well,” you swipe a tear away knowing Jimin probably feels so helpless right now which makes you feel even worse. “I’ve gotten a new job not far from here, so… So, I came back to town.”

“Yeah, I-” Jimin stutters, trying to gather whatever words he can that make decent sentences, “I wondered where you went. I figured maybe a college farther away or if you decided to move with your dad. I never- I never knew where you decided to go in life.” 

The prevalent question you know he wants to ask is how you found him since his longtime dream was originally to be a psychologist. He probably is wondering if you reconnected with Seokjin, but how would Seokjin and Jimin know that you were back? You still are under the assumption that they were never super close when you all were younger.

“I’m sorry, I know I should have told you what was happening… I just didn’t know how.” You choke, your eyes dropping to the floor still struggling on how you were going to continue this conversation.

“Come- come in, come in, have a seat,” Jimin gestures toward a chair off to the side that he shuffles to place in front of his desk. You reluctantly take a seat, clasping your fingers together tightly to fight off the trembling, and it mildly helps.

“Thank you,” you whisper, letting Jimin return to his seat across from you.

“Of course,” he replies gently, struggling to find a box of tissues, concern consuming his entire countenance. “What brings you by? Is everything…okay?”

“I…” This is so hard for you, and you know it is because there are no words to fully get anyone to understand why their child was kept from them especially when they haven’t done anything wrong to deserve that. “Jimin…” The tears return.

“Hey…” Jimin used to hold you so tight if you cried, like Seokjin would, but with seven years behind you, it’s pretty clear that Jimin wanting or considering holding you is long gone. Now, he is staring at you in confusion and probably seeing you as a long-lost stranger. “I know I ended up changing career paths, but something is definitely bothering you and the best advice I can give is to let it out.”

Wiping away another tear, you nod in agreement, sniffling before you can speak, “I know… I just never really prepared for what I’m about to tell you. It’s like… I knew this day was going to come but I just didn’t know when or… How.”

With furrowed eyebrows, Jimin leans his elbows on his desk, “What… Wait, y/n, what do you mean? Did something happen?”

Running a sour tongue over your lips, you exhale a slow breath, “Seven years ago, I discovered something and thought at the time I was making the right decision by… by not telling you.” You can’t meet his eyes. “You had so much going for you, Jimin, I was… I was so scared that if I told you what I had just found out that you would reject me… or reject her.”

Jimin’s folded hands gradually move to lay completely upon the desk, his mind is trying to make sense of what you just said, yet he can’t. And he tries to form words, but he is so rattled that he gives no choice other than to listen.

“Jimin,” you brace yourself as your body tense. “Jimin, I was pregnant.”

You can see the horrified shock in his eyes as they enlarge and the way his chest caves from the sudden blow of pain and confusion spreading all over his rigid posture. “You… were what?” His voice is so quiet, so shaky from this revelation that he can’t even meet your eyes either. “Y/N, what are you saying?” A sob chokes you as you reach to touch his hand, but he shoves your hand away. “You were what?”

“I left,” you say between the tears, “I left because I was pregnant. I know I should have told you, but I was so scared, Jimin, I didn’t know what to do- I couldn’t stand the thought of you giving up everything-”

Something is triggered in Jimin. Glass shatters in his heart. Broken. Broken and robbed is what he feels. 

“But that wasn’t just your choice to make!” Jimin shoves his chair back as he rakes his hands roughly through his hair with so many emotions he could vomit. 

“How could you keep this from me!? You mean all this time, losing sleep because I fucking lost you just to find out now that I had lost a child too!? My child. I have a… child, I-” His voice breaks as he tries to keep himself upright. You know he is angry, and he has every right to be. “How could you-!?”

You feel the weight of his anger. You deserve the weight of his anger. This is a piece of his life that was stripped away without his knowledge. It’s unfair to him. It’s unfair to Mae. You can’t possibly be upset with his response. 

“I thought I was making the right decision, Jimin, I’m so sorry, I will spend the rest of my life being sorry, but I owe it to her. She asks about you. She wants to know who you are, and I know I waited so long, but Jimin…” You breathe, “She has your eyes. She has your smile-”

“And yet you kept her from me.” Jimin grits his teeth, fighting tears of his own as he hastily paces back and forth. “How could you-!?”

“Listen…I know what I did was wrong, and I don’t deserve any form of forgiveness from you. You can- you can hate me. Hate me as much as you want, but please, I am begging you to give her a chance to be yours, too.” You plea. 

“Here-” Frantic, you fumble through your purse because you know exactly what you are looking for now. Your voice is ridden with despair and desperation to make things up to Mae, you unzip your wallet to the many small pictures you have kept over the years of Mae, and you find the most recent one where her toothy smile lights up the entire world. 

Laying the picture on Jimin’s desk, you stand to your feet, “Her name is Mae. She is your daughter. And I’m so sorry that I ruined any chance of her getting to truly know you as her father.” 

The pace of your heart quickens as you examine his features, waiting. You royally fucked up. You know it. But you owe it to them to try. To try again. 

Jimin’s heart is shattering, and it’s written all over his scorned face as tears drip from his cheeks. 

“I understand it may be too late. I may not know firsthand but…I can see how it would feel that way, but… She loved you even though she had no idea you were standing right in front of her.” 

The lingering pause that followed was deafening. You were drowning in the tension and agony. What else did you expect? There are years of pain unfolding before him. What else can you do? 

“I need….” Jimin’s lips tremble as he fixates on the picture of Mae. “Time…I need time to process. Please.” 

You gnaw on your lower lip to refrain from crying. You understand his need for space. You respect that. 

“Of course,” you whisper hoarsely. 

And with that, you saunter out of the room, waiting until you are safe in your car to wail out the pain, not realizing that Jimin falls to his knees as he clutches the picture of the gift he had no idea he had.

His daughter. His daughter who he recognizes to be the sweet student that sits a few rows back whose assignment she wrote was a letter to her missing father:

Him.

Monnie clutches the rails of the hospital bed with gritted teeth as another contraction surges. The nurses rush in colorful blurs hooking up IV fluids, preparing for IV catheter placement, placing all the instruments and tools out for the doctor and who knows what else. Of course, Monnie is worried about her sister and the hell she is about to go through with Mae’s teach- father, but one thing is for sure, she wishes her husband and her mother would hurry the hell up.

“Breathe as steadily as you can,” Jeongguk, the male nurse, reminds her as she slams her eyes shut from the pain. She can’t even focus on the needle being inserted into her arm for the IV catheter placement, because the labor pains overshadow any other pain she has ever experienced. Despite it all, she is so ready to meet her baby boy. The absolute gift she cannot wait to share with her beloved husband and soon-to-be father of their child, Min Yoongi. 

If only that curly headed ham would hurry up! 

Palms slam against the sides of the door frame ahead after some time, prompting Monnie to lift her eyes to the silhouette, but she doubles over in brief disappointment because it’s not Yoongi, but another man that takes her a moment to recognize. 

Wait a minute… Is that Seokjin? It has to be. He looks exactly like the picture in the yearbook that she saw earlier except his hair is longer and his face has matured from the boyish charm that showed in his high school portrait. He’s breathing as if he’s ran a mile, and his mouth is ajar while his chest swiftly moves in and out- in and out which disrupts the breathing pattern for Monnie unintentionally. 

“Please tell me you’re my sister’s boyfriend,” she says through clenched teeth, but not in an angry way, just to keep herself from screaming with these darned contractions.

“I-” He wets his lips cautiously as if taken by surprise at first until a small smile becomes evident but only for a small moment as if he abruptly remembers where he is, “Where is she?”

“Not. Here.” Monnie tries so hard to speak clearly, and it’s obvious to Seokjin that she is doing her best and he doesn’t press further. Plus, Monnie doesn’t know how much he knows about your situation, so maybe telling him everything isn’t such a good idea. She doesn’t want to reveal too much about where you actually are. 

“Is there anything I can do?” Monnie notices the nurses seem skeptical about Seokjin since he is not a relative, but Monnie waves an okay and appreciates Seokjin’s efforts at wanting to be of help. Especially, since she promised you that she’d take care of him when he arrived as well as Mae. Then, an idea strikes her. 

“Actually...” She exhales slowly. “I need to make an excuse for Mae as to why her mom’s not here yet.”

She understands Seokjin’s confusion. Her sister called him and was not at the hospital when he arrived. And him suddenly meeting your sister who is in the process of preparing to give birth is an awkward way to meet for the first time. 

“Okay,” Seokjin’s eyes show he’s trying to think of something, “Wha- what is her favorite fruit or snack? You can say she’s picking up something for you or- or for the baby-?”

“Yoongi loves tangerines.”

“Who-?” Seokjin’s lips form an O while his eyebrows scrunch.

“Just get me some tangerines. Who doesn’t love tangerin- AAGH-” Seokjin panics and helplessly takes his hands through his hair until Monnie recovers momentarily. “I’ll give you a cue somehow. I’ll say the word once after my husband, mom and niece arrive. Just keep your ears alive or y/n is gonna look real. Dumb.”

“Okay.” Seokjin nods once, stepping back immediately once his head jolts to see who is entering the hallway. “I won’t let you down.”

“Yep. That’s the spirit- AAGH-”

-

Mae nervously fidgets with a stuffed animal given to her by her grandma who is chirping with excitement despite Uncle Yoongi’s desperate voice as he speeds toward the hospital. Mae can’t help the anxious way she feels because she knows something big is about to happen. Aunt Monnie is going to have a baby. Mae is going to be a big cousin and despite her curious stares at the adults talking frantically in front of her as Uncle Yoongi drives- she is also excited. Inwardly, she wishes her mother could be with her, but she understands that you had to take your sister to the hospital.

Mae is unaware of how close they are to pulling into the parking lot of the facility, but once arrived, Grandma rushes to help her out of her seatbelt and Mae grips her hand as they follow a sprinting Yoongi into the hospital doors. “Is Mommy here yet?” Mae whispers, staring up at her grandma who catches her breath once reaching Yoongi.

She smiles reassuringly, “I’m sure she is here somewhere with your aunt and the baby. Don’t worry, Sweetheart.”

Mae can’t help it though. Sometimes her comfort is with you regardless. Either way, she doesn’t lose hold of her grandmother’s hand as the pair rush onto an elevator with Yoongi. His hands are jittery as he fumbles from putting them in his pockets versus running a hand through his hair. He is so ready to be with his wife and soon to be son he can hardly concentrate.

Mae smiles to herself in excitement, until she notices a young couple exiting the elevator she was about to enter. In the father’s arms is a car seat where the sweetest little bundle of joy is currently sleeping. The father has a glow in his eyes as he gazes constantly at the baby and over at his wife. He gazes at her in appreciation of the life she has given. Mae captures this encounter for a brief few seconds before losing sight of them behind the closed doors. The prior excitement subsides. What remains is an overwhelming sadness. Would her dad have been this excited about her being born? Would he have looked at her in the same way that father just did? 

A big piece of her heart was missing. 

The ding of the elevator distracts Mae momentarily and the three exit the doors and into the hallway. 

For a brief moment, Mae’s eyebrows furrow when she recognizes the man who had visited Mr. Park earlier today. What was he doing at the hospital? Is he okay? The man’s hair seems ruffled, and his mouth is ajar as he looks around as if trying to find something… Or someone. Could he be looking for lost treasure? Mae wonders- her favorite fairy tales that she has seen countless times help create a story in her mind as she watches him eventually settle on a bench that happens to be right in front of the door Uncle Yoongi rushes into.

“Who is that man?” Mae murmurs to her grandma who follows her gaze.

“Hm,” Grandma harrumphs, tilting her head as if some recognition forms on her face. “He seems healthy. Let’s go see how your Aunt Monnie is doing.”

When Mae sees Aunt Monnie, she looks around for a baby but learns that he has not arrived just yet. Damp hair covers the sides of Monnie’s forehead as she tries to suppress the pain as much as she can. Uncle Yoongi is comforting her to the best of his ability, and he squeezes Monnie’s hand while she breathes slow and steady breaths in between.  Mae also notices the nurses rushing to get everything prepared, but… where are you?

“Where’s mommy? And, where’s my cousin?”

“I’m sure she will be here soon. Maybe she went to the bathroom? And oh, silly girl, babies take time entering the world. He will be here soon enough I promise.”

Mae meets Aunt Monnie’s eyes in widened astonishment as kids do when they seem to understand the seriousness of whatever situation they are about to witness. “Hey there, Mae,” Aunt Monnie’s voice is thickened with discomfort, but she tries to force a smile through the sheer pain of labor. “Your mom will be on her way soon. I made her go… pick up some tangerines.” She tries to raise her voice loud enough as if to capture someone’s attention.

“Tangerines?”

Mae notices the utterly confused look on Yoongi’s face as well as the ajar mouth of questioning that drops open from her grandmother, but it seems Aunt Monnie shares a look of ‘will explain later’ although Mae is too young to understand exactly what that could mean in adult language. 

And apparently, Mae is way too young to be watching a woman give birth, so eventually her and her grandmother return to the hallway where Mae notices the man she noticed earlier is still here.

More questions spin in her mind as she watches him, but she also tries to keep herself preoccupied by clutching the stuffed animal closer to her side. Grandma moves her hand to her shoulder.

“Your mother should be here soon. And then once she is, we will get to meet your cousin. Are you excited?”

“Very excited. I didn’t even know babies could have tangerines.” Mae smiles wide despite being nervous, and she hugs her grandma, anticipatingly waiting not only for her cousin to make his appearance, but to also finally get to be by your side during this celebration with a bag full of one of her favorite fruits.

-

It’s the determination. Bursting through the doors of the hospital with fresh, warm tear stains and hardly a moment to figure out how to audibly ask which room your sister was taken to before you left. Memories of the ceiling and you being rushed to a room spark as well as the intense burn of contractions while you gripped whatever you could with clenched teeth. The desperate way you felt to bring this little life into the world was all you could think about as well as the excitement of finally getting to hold her in your arms. Now, it’s your sister’s turn to experience the endless joy of becoming a mother.

Aside from the determination, it’s the devastation swarming your chest in powerful waves for the betrayal you have revealed, and the forgiveness you hope your daughter will give you over time once the truth is finally brought to light. The truth Mae has been wishing for since the day she understood she had a father out there somewhere. Little did Mae know, her father would unintentionally find her, and now it is your mission and priority to bring them together no matter what it takes.

Jimin asked for time, and time will be what you give him. For Mae, her time to know is now because not only did you rob Jimin from his daughter, but you also robbed your daughter from having a father. Even if neither of them ultimately forgives you, how can you blame them? You are going to have to battle forgiving yourself just as much.

Mae’s face is all you can see as you jog to the nearest elevator and the agonizing slow pace of reaching the level your sister’s room is nearly smothers you in panic. Wanting to see your daughter is all you care about aside from meeting your nephew and seeing the man you have fallen in love with who has no idea of where you just were. It's all too much, but if you can just get to your daughter, you will be okay again.

“Mommy!” Her voice shouts in exhilaration when she sees your running frame enter the hallway. Smiling with more tears blurring your vision, her outspread arms rush toward you until you are holding her so close, your heart swells at her giggles muffling into your shoulder. “There you are!” 

Mae’s stuffed animal squishes against you too but you don’t even dare to let your daughter go.

“I love you so much,” you cry, pulling away to peck all over her chubby cheeks as she laughs a tad louder.

“Mommy!” She pulls away slightly, kissing you sweetly on your cheek. “I just saw you this morning!”

“I know, but it feels like ten long, horrendous years.” You swipe at a tear on your cheek as you squeeze her one more time. To your surprise, Mae looks around you and your hands as if she is confused. “Is something wrong, baby?”

“Where’s? Where’s the tangerines?”

Now it’s your turn to be confused as you open and shut your mouth multiple times before hearing the light chuckle of your mom who steps closer not wanting to initially interrupt you reuniting with your daughter before getting an update on your sister.

“Monnie said she sent you to pick up tangerines.” Your mother winks once you realize with a mouthed ‘Oh’ that your sister was covering for you. Which then brings the sharp stab of guilt at the thought of Jimin and the pain you caused him. And the even deeper stab being that your daughter has no idea that you just met with her father who has been her teacher this entire time.

Before you can even figure out how to put your stammering words together to come up with even the slightest excuse, a bag of tangerines dangle in your vision where your gaze slides from the bag to the handsome broad shoulders and face of Kim Seokjin. 

“Did somebody say tangerines? I saw you accidentally drop them earlier when I was coming from the cafeteria. Figured I’d return them to their rightful owner.”

The warmth that replaces the sadness from a second ago is enough to make you want to jump into his arms as his lips quirk into a sweet smile. You know good and damn well that this man went out of his way to pick up these tangerines from God knows where, but how did he even know to get them in the first place? He must have overheard Monnie’s explanation to Mae? Knowing Mae and how much she loves to ask questions sometimes, maybe she asked them, and he happened to be in the vicinity? Whatever the case, you are beyond thankful for him stepping in. ‘Thank you,’ you mouth toward him while Mae jumps in enthusiasm.

“You’re the man who visited Mr. Park earlier!” Mae exclaims, which makes you cock an eyebrow in surprise. Jin was with Jimin earlier? But then, the next thought makes you cringe because Mae just referred to her father as Mr. Park- not that she knows of course, but it brings back the guilt all the same. Your plan to tell Mae needs to be soon, but at what moment will be the right time?

Seokjin laughs as if he is embarrassed because now you are aware that he visited Jimin earlier and knows you are going to want an explanation even though he doesn’t necessarily owe you one. It’s not like he knew that Jimin didn’t know he had a daughter unless it was that obvious. Honestly, all these anxious cycles of questions are making your head feel heavy, and no matter what, you hope for a positive outcome for everyone.

“Why yes, I was.” Seokjin says, looking at Mae, “He is a great fella. Me, him, and your mom go way back.” Oh shit.

Seokjin, realizing he may have said too much, locks eyes with you as your heart nearly plummets to the ground in fear. Your mother is oblivious to the whole scene as she keeps her eyes toward the door of Monnie’s room where the doctor has hopefully begun checking Monnie’s dilation. As much as you want your focus to be solely on your sister and the baby, it seems like everything unfolding is keeping you from doing so.

“You know Mr. Park, too, Mommy?” Mae asks innocently. 

One thing Mae does know is that you have not met her teacher yet because her aunt and uncle are the ones who took her to the open house and have helped take her to school while you started your new job. Clutching the side of your purse that nestles the picture of you and Jimin, you try to swallow the dry lump in your throat. Seokjin seems as though he wants to kick himself, but none of this is anywhere near his fault. You are the reason this is happening the way it is happening. You are the one who chose to flee from the man who gave you this precious, little girl whom you love more than anything in this entire world. Now, there is a choice that is being presented to you. Struggling with what to do, the stifled shout of a deep voice turns everyone's head toward the door housing Monnie, Yoongi and a medical team which causes all of you to rush with pressed ears to hear what could be happening.

“PUSH!” And with sheer elation, everyone holds their breaths as they know now is the time for Monnie’s baby boy to enter the world. Your hand finds Mae’s as the large, warm hand of Seokjin squeezes your shoulder- his other hand still clutching the bag of tangerines. You’ll kiss him really good later for that one, but for now, your brain is fully devoted to your baby nephew and your trooper of a sister. Sharing delightful giggles with your mother, it’s amazing how a baby can bring a family together in the most serene way.

By the time everything starts falling into place, you and Mae share a happy look as you follow your mother into the hospital room where your sister with teary eyes holds a blue blanket wrapped around the tiny body of her and Yoongi’s baby boy. Mae skips to the bed rails where her small hands hold tightly- her sweet eyes glued to the baby as she gasps in awe. 

“He’s so… perfect,” she whispers while Monnie and Yoongi share emotional smiles.

“Just like you,” Monnie holds Mae’s gaze as she reaches a free hand to brush the back of Mae’s knuckles. “Absolutely just like you.”

You’re frozen in place at the beautiful scene- Seokjin’s hand on your back keeps you steady but there is no stopping the silent tears as they drip down your cheeks. He is beautiful. The sweet bundle of joy and happiness making two people you love parents and the absolute unconditional love already pouring from Yoongi and Monnie. This moment will be burned in your memory forever. A moment you wish you could have shared with Jimin.

“What’s his name?” Mae asks quietly, still in her childlike trance.

“Sammy,” Monnie replies, tilting her head to look into her husband’s eyes. “His name is Sammy.”

As the night continues, everyone gets a chance to hold Sammy while pictures are taken from left to right. You even include a swift introduction of Seokjin, whom Monnie briefly met before Yoongi arrived as you learned since Seokjin booked it to the hospital after you called. When it comes to Mae’s turn to hold Sammy, you have to restrain from crying even more at how you fall in love with the thrill in her countenance as her small legs kick after taking a seat, reaching her arms out to welcome him. 

“He’s so heavy!” She exclaims as a chorus of laughter echoes within the room.

“Yeah!” Monnie says with teasing eyes, “Imagine how long I had to carry that bun.”

“And then push it out,” your mom elbows Monnie’s shoulder with a wink.

“Oh Lord,” you playfully roll your eyes, “Let’s not teach my child health class too early. I’m not ready for her to grow up.” You mutter to yourself spinning to take more pictures of your daughter holding your newborn nephew. Seokjin offers after an hour and a half of the family visiting Sammy, to take your mother home since you want to spend more time with your daughter and your sister. Your mother’s droopy eyes want to decline, but Monnie insists that she get some rest with her old age.

“I’m not as old as you think. Just you wait. You’re gonna wish you had the spunk I have.”

“The spunk left the trunk in 1976.” Monnie teases prompting a glare from your mother, but you also know Monnie was always closer to your father even after your parents divorced.

“I’ll have you know that your father loved my spunk, why else do you exist?”

Chorus of laughter turns into groaning; you leave Mae with your sister and brother-in-law briefly as you follow Seokjin and your mother out in the hallway. Whether it’s impeccable timing, your mother gets a phone call and starts exhaustingly yapping to whoever it is, giving you a few minutes to talk to Seokjin. 

“Thank you again,” you say as he pauses in front of you, staring into your soul with the kindest eyes you have ever seen, yet there is a look of distance that you catch.

“Anytime,” he says. If your mother wasn’t standing right there, you would have kissed him so hard on the mouth, but instead, you reach up just to give him a quick peck on his cheek. “Now you keep my mother safe. She’s a bit crazy.”

“I remember,” he chuckles, pulling you in for a hug. Taking him in, you are so thankful for the man he has always been and the rock you have always needed. How did you make it seven years without him? How was that even possible? He moves his mouth closer to your ear causing pleasurable shivers along your skin. 

“He was always my friend.” Your auditory senses perk at his words as your heart skips a beat. “And I realized that I didn’t know he had a daughter because he didn’t know he had a daughter.” Squeezing you tightly one more time, you feel the lump in your throat again. “I know you will do the right thing.” And with that, Seokjin pulls away, holding your eyes before lightly pinching your chin with his fingers. He wasn’t saying goodbye, but you can tell from the sadness etched in his gaze that he wants you to make things right before being with him. 

“Jin… I-”

“You’ll do the right thing. It may not feel like it now, but you will make things right because that’s the kind of person you are.” Leaning forward, he presses a slow, warm kiss to your lips causing fireworks to spark deep within your chest. Breathless, even from the simplicity of the kiss, he pulls away slightly to meet your eyes, “I love you,” he whispers, “And I always will.”

Words are taken from you as you stiffly watch him reach a hand for your mother’s shoulder to lead her toward the elevators, him holding your gape before stepping on officially. Your mother is still smiling into the phone, not aware of what happened between you and Seokjin, and your heart is pounding profusely through your temples. Seokjin loves you. He just said he loves you. You didn’t have a second to say it back because you are too stunned to even exhale.

You are uncertain of how long you stand there in the hallway rigid with surprise. Breathing deeply until your shaky hands have settled, you know what you need to do. Turning slowly, you walk into the dimly lit hospital room where you see Yoongi laying next to Monnie, staring down at their son who is now their pride and joy. The exact look you gave Mae after she was born and the same look that will never die. Flitting your vision, you find Mae sitting on one of the cushions laid out for anyone who decides to stay the night with their loved one and sitting there, staring back at you, is your purse that holds the answer Mae has been waiting for as well as an opened bag of tangerines. Stepping softly, you take a seat next to your daughter wrapping a gentle arm around her.

“I think your cousin loves you so much already.” You coo, kissing the side of her forehead. Mae continues to watch her cousin, her smile remaining planted on her bright expression. “You are going to be the best cousin ever, and I know you will let him know it.”

“Thank you, Mommy.” She sighs dreamily. “Today has been a good day.”

“I’m so glad.” You murmur, watching the interaction between your sister and her little family. Of course, you know what you need to do, but would it continue to make Mae’s day better? Or will this good day Mae says it will come crashing and burning if you reveal the truth? There is an urge or a strong pounding of your heart that this is it. This is the time to tell Mae about her father, but are there words to even begin?

You let the minutes pass by slowly, giving some time to settle until you gather your words. Your fingers have already run through your daughter’s long hair before you speak softly. 

“Mae, I just want you to know that you are the best thing to ever happen to me.” Mae looks up at you with softened eyes. “And you always will be no matter what… There is also someone who deserves to know you just as much as I do. And though it may take time, I know you will be the best thing to ever happen to him as well.” 

Mae’s eyes widen when realization dawns on her, yet she holds the question evident in her expression. “I’m really sorry…” You choke back a sob, “I’m really sorry that I never told you sooner, and I will live the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. And to your father if he lets me.”

Reaching for your purse, you find the pocket that holds the folded picture of you and Mae’s father and once it is securely gripped between your fingertips, you lift it into you and Mae’s line of vision. Her eyes immediately glue to the folded picture as she anxiously swallows. 

“I love you, Mae.” You whisper and you unfold the picture, exposing the truth you thought you could keep hidden, but instead, the heavy burden you’ve buried lifts from your heart and shoulders as the opened picture brings closure to the young girl staring back at it.

There is no anger in her eyes. No hatred for being left in the dark. Instead, she is overcome by all consuming joy. She has a father. This whole time she has been in the same room as him. A man so kind. The years as a younger girl that may have been shattered are now slowly healing. Being so little can mean that it is difficult to express her true emotions. Except it’s all right there in her eyes. 

Mae has a father, and she couldn’t be more at peace. 

  Two months later…

“Okay, just remember that she absolutely loves ice cream, but don’t let her eat too much!” You stress as you hold your hands out, “It sometimes upsets her stomach, so just let her have maximum two scoops and that’s it-”

“Y/N,” Jimin chuckles as he gives you a pointed look, resting his hands on his hips. “How many times have I told you that I know this? You’ve told me-”

“Countless times, I know,” you groan, running your palms over your face. “I’m sorry, I’m still not used to no longer being a single parent. Sharing is hard.”

“And I understand that completely, but you also must remember that she is my daughter, too.” A side grin tugs at his thick lips as the screen door remains stopped by his elbow.

“Dad, c’mon! We’re gonna be late!” Mae drones from the passenger side of his car, her excitement exuberant and her nonstop conversation of another adventure with her dad is all she has been talking about since Jimin made the decision to officially be in his daughter’s life. It didn’t take much time- only a week and Mae willingly switched classrooms and slowly became introduced into Jimin’s life. His tears were endless the day he wrapped his arms around her for the first time, nearly falling to his knees while she buried her face into his shoulder. Mae finally found her father. And, two months later, it has been continuous adventures: Jimin and his little sidekick, Mae.

“I’m coming, Kiddo!” He laughs, returning to face you while he shakes his head teasingly. “The punctuality she gets from me.”

You scoff, “Excuse you.”

“It’s true and you know it.”

Your eyes soften at the man before you. Uncrossing your arms, you reach to hug him. Tightly. Every ounce of thankfulness, happiness, sorrow, guilt, any emotion that exists is held within this hug as you feel his arms completing the embrace. He feels the emotions, too. He is taking this all in, too.

“You are also an amazing father,” you whisper as tears brim. “Thank you so much for choosing her.”

He squeezes you close one more time before pulling away. “I will always choose her.”

There will never be a relationship again, but the parental bond you two will share is everything you could have asked for. Wiping at a tear that escaped, Jimin nods his farewell before sprinting to the driver’s side of his car. Laughing hysterically at Mae, who must have made a pouty joke, you watch in pride as your daughter smiling with glee, shoves her father’s shoulder as he backs out of the driveway to head to Mae’s favorite ice cream shop. You never imagined the day would come, but you have all the gratefulness in the world that it did. Your daughter is complete. The father of your daughter is complete. Your family is complete.

There’s just one more thing you have to do.

Rushing to grab your keys, you slip on a pair of shoes and sprint to your car after locking up the house. You know who you are about to visit is off today, and you happened to take some time off to be with your daughter before she stays with her dad for the weekend. It doesn’t take long until you see the familiar road that will bring you to the one who made you whole aside from your daughter, and the second you pull into his driveway, you run a hand through your hair letting a long, jittery sigh escape.

Clearing your throat, you rush out of your car and saunter to his front door, keeping a hand on your stomach from the slight nausea wanting to rear its head. There has been some communication on and off throughout the past couple months, but there is something you have been wanting to tell him ever since the two of you reconnected.

Ringing the doorbell, you run quivering palms over your clothes, and when the click of the door opens, your heart halts at meeting his surprised eyes. 

“Jin!” You say faster with a gust of excitement than you anticipate, so you clear your throat again before continuing. “I’m sorry, I just… I needed to see you.”

Slowly stepping forward, Seokjin steadily places a warm hand to your cheek where his thumb strokes your skin so softly it's as if you are in a dream. Yet, your eyes never leave his gentle, brown irises as tears fill his eyes. He’s missed you. He’s missed you so much and he has never stopped waiting on you and the woman he knew you would and have become.

“I love you, too.” You breathe, letting the words sink in before Seokjin’s lips crash to yours. Now that life seems to be exactly where it’s supposed to be- the way it should be, now even you feel complete. The emptiness fled once the truth was told, and now you can happily be in the arms of Kim Seokjin while your daughter gets to learn about the father she’s always wanted to know.

Wrapping your arms behind Seokjin’s shoulders, you let him whisk you away into happiness, because now you can finally allow yourself to feel it. 

[timchalamet-devoted]

The return of Lil Timmy Tim

A/N: I came up with this idea out of nowhere, but I absolutely love it! Oh how wish he would actually do this 🤧

Summary: Lil Timmy Tim makes a surprise comeback for his one and only.

Paring: fem reader x Timothée

Warnings: swearing, not proof read

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3 years. You could barely comprehend the number. 3 years ago, on this very day, your life changed forever. 3 years since you first looked into those green orbs, and fell in love. 3 years of love, adoration and memories with the person you kept closest to heart in this world. You created something so beautiful, so tender, a magnificent mess of feelings and experiences a precious secret that only you and Timmy knew of. It was unbelievable and exhilarating, and you knew you were the luckiest girl in the world.

You shut your eyes at the idea, breaking out into a serene smile.

Your surroundings buzzed with conversation as you waited for Timothée to return.

To celebrate this momentous occasion, you and Timothée planned an extravagant day out, with everything from the theatre ( feel free to imagine something else) to the fanciest of restaurants.

The time had come for the latter; you were seated at your favourite place, anticipating Timmy's return.

You recalled he mumbled something about the bathroom, however far too much time had passed, and concern starting to bubble in your stomach.

Searching for a distraction, you brandished your phone from your jacket's pocket, absentmindedly scrolling.

Not even a few seconds passed before your head snapped up at Timothée's familiar voice, followed by a wild uproar from the people around you.

You scanned the crowd for his figure, finally spotting him on a low stage, standing beside the small band that had provided the music for the evening.

Your brows furrowed, trying to piece together what this was. That was until the music started. Another wild roar, as your jaw dropped to the floor.

During the entirety of your 3 years together, you wouldn't dare bring up Timmy's old rap persona, and yet there he stood in the same shirt, and pink cap, microphone in hand.

You sat frozen to your spot, eyes nearly popping out of your head as he started to sing.

" TIMMAY, It's your boy Lil Timmy Tim, coming live from the G25,

Live from the G25!

Statistics (yup), statistics (yup, yup),

Statistics ( yup), Statistics (yup, yup)

Miss Lawton, Miss Lawton, Miss Lawton, Miss Lawton.."

Around you, everyone was taking out there phones, desperate to record this spectacle.

"Look at me, it's Timmy T

Bout to hit em with the Z-T-S-T

Let's do a problem, let us see

The probability you see me on TV

One, zero, zero, zero trillion percent,

I'm a statistical wonder, a statistical gem!"

The crowd had now joined in, rapping along, and understandably so.

" One in a zillion, bout to net a million

Fruity colours on these numbers, call it a chameleon!"

"Fuck it" it you muttered under your breath, before pushing your chair back with a loud screech and running up to accompany him on stage. This earned further cheer from the audience, as the cameras pointing at you multiplied.

"STATISTICS (YUP), STATISTICS (YUP, YUP)

STATISTICS (YUP), STATISTICS (YUP, YUP)!"

You rapped alongside him, proudly reciting the lyrics, for you had memorised them all a long time ago. The two of you could barely keep your composure, willing yourself as hard as you could not to burst. You gave in eventually, laughing uncontrollably as you finished.

Timmy grabbed your hand, doing an exageratadly low bow, before pulling you into a passionate kiss. You kissed back happily, grinning against his lips. You pulled away, pressing your foreheads together to look him in the eyes.

"Thank you" you whispered softly, your smile never leaving your features.

"Anything for you Mon Amour" He beamed, capturing your lips in his once more.

[pxmpeiii]

Lovers Rock

Sirius Black x F!reader

Based off of the song Lovers Rock by TV Girl

Summary: You and Sirius have both liked eachother for a while now, it just takes one party for your dreams to come true. 

Warnings: romance?, first time writing, female reader, alcohol, smoking, party?

Authors Note: I just realised it’s never really mentioned but the story happens in the summer, that’s why no one is at Hogwarts.

Are you sick of me? Would you like to be?

You and Sirius had met each other about two months ago at one of the many parties’ James loved to throw. Since then neither of you really knew what you were or what you wanted to be. Well, you both knew you wanted to be together but were never really sure how the other felt. But tonight, let’s just say that with some convincing of his friends (and a little bit of fire whiskey) Sirius finally wanted to make a move, and luckily for him the girl herself was throwing a party.

I’m trying to tell you something, something that I already said

All day Sirius has been thinking of what to say. Normally he didn’t really care when it came to flirting with people. But this, this was different. He hadn’t ever felt as happy as when you two spent time together. Everyone else could see it too, the way he looked at you and the way you’d stop whatever classwork you were doing to talk to him, no matter what trouble you could and would get into. You both couldn’t stop thinking of each other. Tonight, Sirius wanted, he wanted so desperately to tell you all of this, tell you exactly how much he wanted to be with you. It even felt kind of funny after a while because he was trying to express something to you that he’s already said many times over and over in his head, trying to get the words just right.

You like a pretty boy with a pretty voice who is trying to sell you something, something that you already have

All of these thoughts of what he should do were going through his head while dazing at you, just across the room. Admiring everything about you, he thought he could do it for hours until something or you could say someone approached you. A boy with auburn hair, Sirius didn’t know his name neither did he want to. All he wanted to do was get you away from that guy so he could finally talk to the girl who has been the center of his thoughts for a good amount of time. So, he put his drink down and strolled his way over to where you were standing. “Hello, I was just about to go have a cigarette, wanna join me?” you asked not wanting to leave the charming boy’s company “Of Course” he answered without any doubt in his mind. As you both walked out, he opened the door for you “I never knew Sirius Black of all people to be a gentleman” you giggled, and he smirked at your comment. 

But if your too drunk to drive and the music is right, she might let you stay, but just for the night

You both talked to each other, never growing bored of each other's company until Sirius checked the time. “I should probably head out soon” the clearly drunk boy said while throwing his cigarette butt away. “I think James left about an hour ago, how will you get home?” you asked not about to let him drive home in his current state “Driving?” he answered “I have an empty bedroom upstairs, you could just stay if you wanted” you informed him, hoping he would stay for his safety and maybe a little bit of fun as well. “If you don’t mind that’d be great, I can’t get in anymore trouble, James’s mom would be fuming.” 

And if she grabs your hand and drags you along

you both laughed as you led him upstairs only to find Marlene and Dorcas passed out in the guest room. “You could stay in my room, if you wouldn’t mind of course” you thought of a solution that you had dreamt about an embarrassing number of times, not knowing he had done the same “I’d love that” he answered honestly causing you to smile at him and look deep into his dreamy grey eyes.

She might want a kiss before the end of the song

You both had the same idea, going in for a kiss that felt like water after months of dehydration, just pure bliss. It felt perfect with Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy playing loudly from the other room, just like the cheesy romance movies you’d watch on TV when nothing else was on, neither of you wanted it to end. Weeks of pent-up desire and passion making it that much better. Neither of you wanted to pull away but Sirius did first so he could guide you both to your bed before diving back into your lips for another kiss. You both kept going on, not wanting the fantasy you both had been anticipating for weeks to end. After a while you pulled away sealing one last kiss to his soft lips before laying your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, both of you unsure of everything in your lives except each other.