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thewritingrowlet · 27 days

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The Anniversary, ft. tripleS Kim Yooyeon

tags: fuck it, no tags this time

length: 14k+

author's note: I've lost count of how many times I've been asked to write a Yooyeon smut, so for those who yearn for it, this one's for you.

Yooyeon stirs awake in the middle of the night, feeling uneasy about not having you, her husband, in bed with her like she usually does. She rolls onto your side of the bed and reaches for the framed picture sitting on the bedside table. It’s a picture of you and her, taken on the first night of the vacation trip to Europe to celebrate your first anniversary. “It’s been over 5 years, hasn’t it, love?” Her finger runs up and down on the side of the frame, recalling the memory from what feels like a lifetime ago.

A few days before the trip, Yooyeon and you had a disagreement over some things—things that mattered little but were handled poorly enough that they created a fissure in the new and fragile marriage, even though they shouldn’t have been to begin with.

“I don’t want to talk to you ever again! Leave me alone!” She yelled out, letting her frustration and anger be known to you.

Yooyeon remembers the way you slammed the bedroom door on your way out after the final argument of that Sunday evening. Yooyeon also remembers the way you skipped kissing her before leaving for work the following morning. Finally, Yooyeon remembers how her cheeks were drenched in tears because she thought you weren’t coming home on Monday.

At that point, she thought she had lost everything—over nothing but some de minimis matters. She vividly remembers the way she was leaning against the front door, praying to whatever higher being could hear her for you to come back home—for you to say that you love her and that everything wasn’t so doomed; for you to take her hands in yours and recite the vow: “together always, in joy and in sorrow, for better or for worse.”

Yooyeon recalls how surprised she was when the front door she had been leaning against suddenly swung open, making her tumble backwards. “My love, it’s you! Oh my God, it’s you!” She exclaimed when she saw you at the front door, her eyes red and her cheeks wet. “You took me in your arms and carried me to bed, love,” Yooyeon recalls, “y-you told me that you were sorry, and-and you promised that you’d work on becoming a better man for me.”

All this recollecting has her shedding tears subconsciously, but her mind doesn’t want to stop here just yet. It reminds her of that moment after the super late dinner on Monday where she bent over your lap, hiked up her negligee, and offered you her round butt to be spanked. “Punish me, my love; I’ve been a very bad wife,” she said. She shut her eyes to brace for the impact when she saw you lifting your hand. “I was so scared, my love; I thought you were going to really hit me,” she wipes the tear on her left cheek, “you have no idea how relieved I was when I felt you caressing my butt instead of hitting it.” “I would never hurt you like that, my love,” she impersonates you, getting your deep voice as close to the original as she can.

Yooyeon rolls around in bed as she contemplates calling you. She knows that you wouldn’t get angry about it, but at the same time, she wonders if maybe you were asleep—she hates disturbing your sleep. “Ah, I can’t take this anymore.” She grabs her phone and finds your contact easily. “Please pick up, my love.”

You just got off the airplane that took you from Florence back to Seoul. You’re very tired but at the same time, you’re very excited to get home. You’ve spent the last few days going through an absurd amount of work; you’ve met with foreign partners, signed countless documents, and the most painful of them all: eaten at good restaurants without your beloved wife.

Right after you get in your car, you feel your phone vibrating in your pocket. You read the name of the caller and see that it’s your wife.

“Hello, love.”

“Are you okay, honey? Why aren’t you sleeping? Isn’t this super late in Seoul?”

“I-I was asleep but not having you in bed with me is awful”

“Really?” You tease her, smirking as you do.

“What—of course! You know this better than anyone, love!”

You try your best to stay in character and not burst out laughing—you even cover your mouth with your palm so that your phone doesn’t pick up any sound.

“Love? Why are you quiet?”

“Oh, sorry,” you clear your throat, “I was looking at the flight schedule.”

“Flight sche—are you coming home!?”

“I’m about to, honey—I’ll be home before you know it.”

“I’m waiting for you! I love you!”

“I love you more, honey. See you soon, alright?”

As soon as you end the call, you start laughing; you just told your wife a harmless lie and now you’re about to appear at the front door of your house and surprise her. Before you start driving away, you grab a velvet box from your suitcase that’s sitting on the passenger seat. You open it and inspect its content, “I hope you like jewelry, love.”

One last turn to make before you reach your house, and you start feeling nervous and excited at the same time. This electric car doesn’t make any noise, so that’s a plus and minus at the same time: you can approach the house without making any noise but at the same time, you need to come up with something to get her open the front door, since Yooyeon must be in the bedroom on the second floor, which has windows you can see from the driveway.

You think about whether you can pull off the surprise. “Oh, man, how can I get her to come to the front door at this hour?” Your eyes wander around the front side of the house as you look for ideas. They finally land on the CCTV that’s pointed at the front door. “Should be able to use that.” You pull out your phone and call her, and she picks up immediately thanks to her sleeplessness.

“Honey, I’ll be quick so listen to me,” you say in a serious tone, “I see someone at our front door.”

“F-front door? W-who?” She’s starting to fall for the prank. “Wha-what do I do, love? Do I call the police?”

“Just—oh, fuck,” you dramatize, “just bring a gun or a taser and check—be careful, honey!”

Your wife hangs up the call, presumably to get one of the self-defense weapons you’ve provided for her. You get out of the car and stand at the front door, and while you wait, you pray that she won’t pull the trigger against you, its master.

You didn’t have to wait long, because after a few seconds, the left half of the butterfly door swings open, revealing your wife, who is wearing a pink nightgown—she’s also aiming her gun at you. “Hi, baby,” you greet her with a smile, “missed me?” Yooyeon can’t believe her eyes; her husband, who she thought was still in Florence, is standing in front of her. “H-honey? I-is that really you?” You approach her and lower her gun so that it’s not aimed at your face. “Yes, love, it's me.”

Yooyeon lets the gun fall onto the floor as she falls limp into your arms. “Hi, love,” you greet the baffled woman one more time, “I’m home, love—I’m here for you.” She pulls away from the hug and takes a good look at your face. “Oh my God, it really is you, love,” she rubs your cheeks gently, “b-but how? I thought you were still abroad?” You reveal to her that you were actually in the airport’s parking lot when she called: “I literally just got in the car when your call came in.” Your wife lets out a deep sigh and shakes her head in amusement. “I can’t believe you fooled me like that, love.”

You ask her to let go of you for a second so that you can close and lock the door. You then pick up the gun from the floor, lock the safety switch, and hide it among the books on the nearby bookshelf. Once you’re done, Yooyeon wraps her arms around your body and leans against your chest. “I love you, hubby,” she says softly, almost too quiet to reach your ears, “I love you so much.”

Without saying it back, you lift your wife and carry her to the sofa. You carefully lower her and have her sit on it while you take a knee in front of her. “Are you proposing again, love? I’ll say yes again, don’t worry.” You chuckle, “no, but I do have something for you.” You fish the velvet box from your back pocket and open it for her. “Happy anniversary, baby.” The actual anniversary is later this week but whatever—there’s nothing stopping you from giving your wife a gift.

Yooyeon looks at the necklace you’ve bought for her in awe, seemingly very fond of it. “This looks expensive, love,” she takes the box from your hands and takes a closer look, “is this for me?” You chuckle again. “Well, yeah—who else deserves such a gift aside from my beautiful wife?” She hands the box back to you and lifts her hair off her neck. “Please, honey,” she says. You move behind her and connect the chain right on her nape. She then turns towards you and shows the centerpiece—it looks majestic hanging on the center of her chest, right underneath her neck. “Absolutely beautiful, honey,” you let out a praise, causing her to blush. “Me or the necklace, love?” You smile at her lovingly. “You are beautiful, and that necklace wouldn’t look as good on anyone else, honey.”

You take a glance at the square clock sitting under the TV: it’s now a little past 2 a.m. “Love, you said you couldn’t sleep because I wasn’t with you,” you run a thumb across her soft cheek while looking deep into her eyes, “do you think you can sleep now that I’m home?” Yooyeon takes a deep breath and smiles after. “When you’re with me, I can conquer the world, love.” You put on a sad face. “If you’re busy conquering the world, then who would I be cuddling every night?” She playfully slaps you in the chest. “Oh my God, stoooop,” she fans her red face with both hands, “anyway, yes, I can sleep now that you’re here.”

She opens her arms wide open while her beautiful eye smile is forming on her face. You lift her up with little trouble and walk towards the bedroom with her. “My God, you’re so beautiful, honey,” you let one more praise fly out of your lips. She accepts the praise with a giggle and returns it in the form of a peck on your cheek.

You let her down from your arms and move towards the wardrobe to find something to wear to sleep. You know that your wife likes seeing you undress, so to accommodate that, you take off your clothes in front of her. “You age so well, love,” she bites her lip sexily. You ask if she’s in the mood for sex: “sorry, love, not today.” “It’s fine; it’s not like we’re running out of time” you grab a pair of shorts from the wardrobe and put them on, “let’s just cuddle and go to sleep, okay?”

Yooyeon moves to the center of the bed and taps the empty spot next to her with a grin on her face, “over here, my love—right next to me, your lovely wife.” Your wife is indeed lovely; this is a verifiable fact. You join her in bed and without any word said, she moves to rest her head on the side your chest and place a hand nearby. You hear her yawning, a sign that she’s now ready to sleep—properly this time, with her husband’s arms around her. “I love you,” she suddenly says, “I hope you know that.” You roll over and get on top of her—yes, you know that she’s not in the mood for sex and that this is a very typical sex position, but this is necessary. “I haven’t the slightest doubt in my mind that you love me and I love you back,” you say to her, your tone serious but sincere, “I love you so, so, soooo much, Kim Yooyeon.” You haven’t addressed her by name like that in a while, so she is visibly surprised.

“Please lie down again, honey,” she says, “you’re going to make me horny if you stay like this.” “I don’t see the problem,” you shrug, “just say the word and I’m yours.” Yooyeon taps your cheek gently a few times, and that’s your sign that she’s really not in the mood for it at the moment. “Maybe later, honey, but not now—you need some rest first.” You lie down in bed and pull her into your arms again. “By the way, I’m skipping work today and tomorrow, love,” you say to her, “do you want to do anything?” She yawns audibly one more time. “I don’t know yet—I’ll tell you if I have ideas.”

Yooyeon is a morning riser; she’d rather wake up early and immediately start doing whatever she needs to than sleep in and not have enough time to do things. You, on the other hand, used to have the same habit as her, but after becoming a director, you often find yourself working past your bedtime, so you compensate for the lack of sleep by sleeping in. Thankfully, your wife never makes a big deal about the difference—she has used it to her advantage on a handful of occasions, actually. Last year, she woke up before 5 a.m. to make cookies for your birthday and finished just in time before you woke up.

Today, however, after not having seen her husband in almost a week, she’s opting to stay in bed, savoring the moment of having your scent in her nose and your warmth on her skin. You slowly wake up and see that your wife is still in the same position as when you closed your eyes a few hours ago: her face is on your chest and her legs are entwined with yours. “I love you,” you whisper to her, not expecting an answer. “I love you more,” she replies, surprising you.

“Honey,” she softly calls to you, “I’m tired.” You start massaging her arm even if you’re only partially awake. “You are, love? Can I help?” Yooyeon gathers her strength and moves to lie square on your body. “Just stay like this, please.” You put a hand on her back and move it up and down, just the way she likes it.

“Honey,” she calls to you, “can I ask what we’re doing for our anniversary?” You want to open your mouth, but the urge to yawn gets to you first. “What do you think about dinner at The Sapphire, love?” Yooyeon lifts her face off your chest and looks at you with a smile. “Yes, please,” she says, “I’ve always wanted to go there.” You apologize to her for not coming up with something grand for the 6th anniversary, but she rejects it. “As long as I’m with you, I’m down for anything. Without you, all I want to do is stay in bed all day,” she says.

“Wakey, wakey, my love,” she says, poking your cheek repeatedly to get you to wake up. You slowly open your eyes and look at her in the eyes. “Am I in heaven? Are you an angel?” Your wife slaps you lightly on the chest and covers her sheepish grin with a hand. “Y-yes, I-I’m your angel,” she looks away to hide her blush, “c-can you wake up, please? It’s almost 10, love.” With a grunt, you move to a sitting position with your legs hanging off the bed. Yooyeon takes the space in your lap, straddling you and placing her palms on your nape. “Love, can—erm—can we have some fun, please? I-I’ve missed you,” she requests shyly. “Sure, honey—one second, please.”

You inhale and exhale a few times to get yourself together and ready to please your wife. “C’mon, honey,” she urges you, getting impatient, “you haven’t touched me in 10 days.” You burst out laughing. “10 days? Really?” Your wife puts on a pout. “Look at that calendar, honey,” she points at a calendar hanging next to the mirror, “I bought a new calendar to keep track of our sex life.” You look at it and see that there are indeed 10 X marks on it, from the 1st to the 10th; three of them are in black and the rest are in red. “What’s with the red and black marker?” She explains that she’ll use a red marker for when you’re not at home and a black one for when you’re at home but have no sex. “That’s interesting,” you peck her once on the lips, “are we ready, then?” “That’s my—ah!”

Yooyeon didn’t expect you to move that fast, and now she finds herself lying in bed with you hovering closely over her. Your deep gaze overwhelms her, forcing her to look to the side. “Are you okay, love?” You peck her exposed cheek gently. “Do you want to change your mind? It’s okay if you do.” She shakes her head rapidly. “Sorry, love, I just got reminded of our first time.” What a great and special time it was; the both of you had saved yourselves for marriage and was each other’s first time almost 6 years ago. “I remember how nervous you were, love,” you show her a gentle smile, “we hugged for almost an hour because you weren’t ready for it, remember?” “I’m so sorry for that, love,” she finally makes eye contact with you, “I don’t know why I was so hesitant—hell, you’re my husband, not my boyfriend.” You tell her that she has nothing to be sorry for: “even if we hadn’t had our first time right there, it would’ve been completely fine.”

“I am glad that you’re of that opinion,” she grabs your hand and places it on her thigh, “now please, let’s start, love.” You run your hand up and down her thigh for a moment, enjoying how soft it is. “I love you, Yooyeon-ah,” you refer to her the way you used to, surprising her again. “I love you too, Harvey-oppa,” she replicates the gesture, referring you to by your other name—the name your dad gave you.

You and Yooyeon always start sex by kissing (sometimes going as far as tongue-wrestling when you’re extra thirsty), and today is no different. You come in for a kiss, and your wife welcomes you warmly. She likes placing her hands on your cheeks when kissing, and you like the way her soft hands feel. “Love,” you break the kiss momentarily, “you’re so damn hot.” Yooyeon knows that she’s very attractive (there were plenty of reasons why people called her the goddess when she was in university) but sometimes, she’s too shy to admit it, and that’s where you come in: you’re the husband who will never get tired of praising her beauty—let it be known, however, that beauty isn’t all she’s about.

Your wife responds by lowering the thin shoulder straps of her nightgown, partially revealing her breasts. “Oh, I know, honey,” she winks, “you’ve told me that so many times in the past few years.” You chuckle slightly in amusement. “Sometimes I can’t believe how lucky I am to be with you, love.” She gives you a fleeting kiss and tells you that the feeling is mutual, which is amazing to hear.

Yooyeon continues lowering her nightgown until her breasts are fully out in the open. You latch your mouth onto one of them and place your hand on the other, earning a mix of gasps and moans from her. “I-I wish they were bigger for you, hon,” she utters. The shock puts you to a halt. “That’s very uncalled for,” you say, your tone firm, “I didn’t marry you for your bodily assets, my dear wife.” She shuts her eyes when she feels your hand squeezing her breast. “B-but still, I—” You cut her off with a quick kiss, and while you’re there, you snake your tongue into the space in her mouth and fight her tongue.

You pull away from the embrace and pull your wife into a sitting position. You then move to sit behind her and wrap your arms around her body. “Look in the mirror, dear,” you point at the mirror that’s hanging right in front of you, “tell me what you see.” Yooyeon scans her reflection, her gaze going up and down from her head down to her toes. “I-I’m pretty,” she utters softly, “I-I look sexy right now.” You sneakily put your hand on her crotch and start rubbing her over her panties. “There you go,” you praise her, your voice gentle, “now, let’s never say such thing again, okay?” “Ah, ah—o-or what?” She dares challenge you. “Wha-what would you do if I said such thing again?” You bite the side of her neck lightly, earning a surprised yelp from her. “I will tie you to each corner of the bed and not touch you until you say sorry.”

You increase the intensity of your fingers’ movement on her crotch, and you notice that she’s starting to wet her panties. “H-honey,” she calls to you, “c-can I take off my panties, please?” You don’t answer her, and instead, you start rubbing more aggressively. “Oh, oh, oh,” she’s letting out moans freely, “y-you’ll make me cum, honey.” You started doing this to warm her up, but if she wants to cum, then she’s free to do so—in fact, you’ll gladly make her cum.

She uses one hand to hold your hand that’s busy stimulating her and while the other reaches for your nape. She then leans back against your chest and hands over the control of her pleasure to you—submissive as always. “Honey, please—oh, God, please, that’s so good, honey.” You can tell that she’s enjoying this; not only is she moaning freely, but she’s also rolling her hips around. “P-please, take off my panties—I’m begging you.” She sounds desperate enough for it, so you grab the waistband and pull down her panties recklessly, not worried about whether it’s properly off or not.

Yooyeon screams from the top of her lungs when your fingers are directly on her nub, finally getting what she’s been begging for. “Yes, yes, like that, hon,” she eggs you on, “please, please!” You put your mouth close to her ear and lick it, adding a dose of tease to the stimulation. “Cum for me, baby,” you whisper in a low voice, “cum for your husband like the good wife that you are.” To increase your chance of making her cum, you place your other hand on her left breast, alternating between massaging and tugging it.

Your wife lets out a very loud scream and lifts her butt of the bed as juice gushes out of her core—that’s her first orgasm in 10 days (because she doesn’t touch herself, ever), all thanks to you. You remove your hand from her crotch and place it on her stomach, gently rubbing it as she rides the high of orgasm, moaning oh-so-sensually as she does. “Good, baby, good,” you praise her, “such a good wife, aren’t you?” You notice that your wife is getting limp, so you lean backwards against the headrest so that she can lean against your body more comfortably.

“Oppa,” she calls to you, still weak, “thank you so much—I love you.” You peck her cheek from the side and tell her that you love her more. “How are you feeling, love?” Yooyeon takes a deep breath to compose herself. “I feel great,” she sighs, “you don’t know how desperate I’ve been, hon.” She takes off her nightgown and tosses it onto the floor, she then does the same with her panties. “That’s much better,” she says.

You spend a few more minutes just chilling; your wife’s heartbeat has returned to its normal pace, and she is now calm and collected, just like she usually is. That is, until she’s reminded of something: “honey, what about you?” You didn’t know that you were drifting to sleep again. “Huh? What about me?” Yooyeon slaps your thigh lightly, mildly annoyed. “Get your head in the game, hubby,” she says, “you haven’t cum yet.” You let out a yawn first before responding. “That’s where you come in, no?” Yooyeon turns her head to peck you quickly. “Of course, I’m your wife.”

With a small grunt, your wife moves away from your body and gets on her hands and knees in between your legs, your cock pointing right at her face. “May I, honey?” You give her your approval in the form of a nod, and she starts moving her head closer to your tip. Without breaking eye contact, she parts her lips and takes you in her mouth. “That’s good, love,” you put a hand on the back of her head and pet her gently, “you’ve gotten so good at this, haven’t you?”

It's not an empty praise; Yooyeon from 6 years ago wouldn’t even touch your penis, let alone put it in her mouth. It took her almost two years to muster up the courage to give you head—shout out to Kotone, your friend Yunho’s wife, who convinced her to try it. You still remember the first time she took you in her mouth. It happened around a week before your 2nd anniversary. She had her lips as far apart as possible and slowly moved her mouth along your length, gagging multiple times in the process. Fast forward a few years later, and she’s now much better at it. She’ll even give you head when she’s either not in the mood for regular sex, or when she’s having her period. She’s turned out to be crazy like that—she just needs a little push sometimes.

Your wife notices that you’re not paying full attention to her (because you were too busy recollecting the past), so she bites your shaft slightly to retaliate. “Fuck!” You let out a profanity when you feel it. “You didn’t have to do that, love.” Your wife removes you from her mouth and pouts. “If you’re not paying attention then I don’t want to do it.” You take a deep breath and apologize. “But do you know what was in my head?” She tilts her head in confusion, so you explain to her that the memories of your first time getting a blowjob from her were returning to you and that you were deep into reminiscing it. “Really?” “You know I wouldn’t lie about such thing, love,” you defend yourself.

Satisfied with the exchange, Yooyeon returns to the task at hand and takes you in her mouth again. This time, to make sure that she knows that you’re paying attention, you maintain eye contact with her, only breaking it when it’s impossible for her to look at you because she’s too far down your shaft. “That’s good, love,” you praise her with pets on the head, “keep going, please.” Your wife winks at you and starts going along your length faster, and there’s no better way to egg her on other than throwing praises at her.

You don’t know how many times praises have escaped your lips, but it matters little; your wife likes hearing praises and doesn’t care if they’re repetitive. “Love, I don’t think I can last long,” you announce, a hint of sadness in your voice because you don’t want this to end so soon. Your wife removes you from her mouth, looks at you straight in the eyes, and whispers, “give me your cum, honey.” You nod, and she returns to her previous position.

You wait until she takes you in her mouth again. Once she does, you palm the back of her head and force her down your shaft. Unready, your wife gags instantly, and you can feel your arousal peaking thanks to the sound. “Be good, love.” You use this final stretch to fuck her mouth—nothing too rough, though; you don’t want to hurt your lovely wife.

“God, fuck,” are all you can come up with right now, as the wetness of her mouth proves to be very pleasurable for you. “Love, I really can’t hold on,” you announce again. Just before you blow, you retreat from her mouth. “Oh, God—fuck.” You close your eyes and ride the high of your orgasm as your cock sprays semen onto your wife’s face. In the meantime, your wife grabs your cock and strokes it, trying to get every last drop of semen out of your system. “Mm, mm-hmm,” she mumbles, “that’s it, honey—give me everything.”

When you open your eyes, you’re met with the sight of your wife, whose smiling face is covered in cum. “Thank you, dear,” you don’t forget to thank her, “I’ve needed that so bad.” Yooyeon takes a bit of cum in her fingers and licks it. “Should’ve released in my mouth, but it’s fine,” she says. She probably just realizes how naughty she sounds, as she looks away to cope with the heat on her cheeks. You chuckle at her. “I know how naughty you are, honey; we’ve spent enough time together.” You peck her hair, precisely on the spot that’s not covered in cum. “Let’s get you cleaned up, love.”

After getting cleaned up with your wife, you take her to sit on the sofa. She turns on the TV and begins scrolling through Netflix to find something to watch, while you sit on the other side of the sofa and pull out your phone to catch up with work. “Ah, what am I doing—my husband is literally next to me.”

She turns off the TV and moves to sit on your lap. You ask if you can help her with anything, your eyes still locked on your phone. Yooyeon reaches for your phone and slowly takes it from your hands. “Love, I’m here,” she says, “can I have your attention, please?” You show her a loving smile and kindly ask her to hand the phone back. “Let me text Jeon Yunho one time, love,” you say, opening your palm to receive your phone, “you’ll have my attention after that, I promise.” She looks particularly sad hearing you say that, but you do need to text Yunho; you need his help to make a reservation at The Sapphire, and for reasons you don’t know, he has exclusive access when it comes to making reservations at these fancy places.

After sending the text, you put your phone on the sofa and turn your attention to your wife. “Sorry, love,” you take her hands in yours, “I need help making a reservation for our anniversary.” Your wife shakes her head and tells you that it’s fine. As you’re about to open your mouth to say the next sentence, your phone rings. Based on the ringtone, it’s one of the important people in your life. You can tell that your wife is quite unhappy about getting interrupted, so you apologize to her, even if it’s not your fault. “It’s your mom, love,” you inform her, “one second, please.”

“Hello, this is Harvey,” you greet your mother-in-law, “you’re on speaker, mama.”

“Hello, Harvey”

“Can I help you, ma? Do you need anything?”

“I tried calling Yooyeon-ie but she didn’t pick up—where is she?”

Hearing that, Yooyeon jumps off your lap and runs to the bedroom to find her phone.

“Oh, she’s home with me—she just doesn’t have her phone on her. Is there anything you want to say to her?”

“No, not really. I just wanted to say congratulations—you’re celebrating your 6th anniversary soon, aren’t you?”

“Yes, we are. I’m taking her to dinner this Thursday evening to celebrate,” you reveal your plan to her.

“Sounds great,” she says, “have you thought about getting her pregnant yet?”

The timing couldn’t get any better; Yooyeon was on her way back to you when her mom said that. You notice that she’s looking at you with a flat face that you can’t decipher.

“Erm,” you try to find an answer to the question, “we haven’t talked much about that, actually. We, uh, we’ll talk about that one day.”

“Is it you or her that doesn’t want to have children?”

You see Yooyeon pointing at herself, indirectly asking you to make her take the blame, but you can’t do that—you’re not throwing your wife under the bus, ever.

“It’s not that we don’t want children, ma. It’s just that we haven’t talked about it that much,” you deflect, defending yourself and your wife.

“Fine,” your mother-in-law gives up with little fight, “if you need help convincing my daughter to get pregnant, just call me—talk to you again soon, Harvey”

“See you soon, mama—stay healthy, please.”

You hang up the call and look at your wife. “Love, come here, please,” you tap your lap a few times. Instead of sitting on your lap like before, she gets down on her knees in front of you. “Love? Are you okay?” You’re unsure of her intentions. “F-forgive me, my love, b-but I’m not ready to have children yet,” she says while looking down at the carpet, “please don’t divorce me for that—please, tell me that everything is okay.” There’s no way you’d divorce your wife for not wanting a child, and you make it clear to her that it’d never happen: “I won’t leave you for that, love—trust me. I’m sure you have good reasons as to why you don’t want to have children, and whatever it is, I’m willing to accept it.”

Your wife slowly shifts her gaze upwards, and when you make eye contact with her, you show her a gentle smile. You tap your thighs again. “Come here, my love.” She slowly gets on her feet and moves to sit on your lap. She then hugs you and leans against your chest.

“Am I a bad wife, hon?”

“No, you’re not—please don’t say such thing,” you say, “you’ve been the best wife I could ever ask for.”

“Am I a bad daughter, perhaps? Am I letting my parents down?”

“No, you’re not—please don’t say such thing,” you repeat, “with respect to your parents, love, this life is ours, not theirs. We get to decide what to do, don’t we?”

Yooyeon stays silent, but you’re not satisfied until you get an answer. “Answer me, love.”

“Y-yes,” she says, “yes, we do.”

“Ding-ding-ding, that’s the correct answer,” you reward her with a peck on the head, “let me worry about your parents, love; I’ll tell them that it’s my choice to not have children, okay?”

Feeling satisfied with the exchange, Yooyeon thanks you. “I love you, oppa,” she says, her voice soft, “I love you so much.” “I love you more, baby.”

You notice that a text just came to your phone. “Yunho needs some time to make a reservation for us, love,” you say, “if he’s successful—he should be, honestly—then we can go to The Sapphire on Thursday evening, just like we’ve planned.” “Great,” she says, a hint of excitement in her voice, “I can’t wait, love.”

Before you know it, it’s now Thursday. You want to take Yooyeon on a little breakfast date today, so last night, you set up 3 alarms 15 minutes apart from each other to make sure you can wake up on time. When you wake up, though, she’s not in bed with you—even with alarms, you can’t beat her at waking up early; she’s just too good at it.

You collect yourself and start walking out of the bedroom. Your wife hears your heavy, sleepy steps from the kitchen. “Good morning, my love,” she greets you from the kitchen with a cup of (presumably) tea in her hands. You take the cup from her hands and put it on the counter. You then turn her around and hug her from behind, sinking your face in her hair. “Good morning,” you greet her back, “happy anniversary, wifey.” “Happy anniversary to you as well, hubby.” You’re not sure if she said Harvey or hubby—her accent makes those two words sound similar. You ask to make sure, “did you say Harvey or hubby?” “Yes,” she giggles, “it works either way, no?” True, it does work.

You hand your wife her cup again and let go of the hug. She asks if you’d like to have some tea, but you decline. “Let’s have breakfast out, love,” you say. “Sure,” she replies. She turns around with a smile on her face and points at the sofa. “Can we sit there, hon?” “We sure can, lovely.”

You sit on the sofa and your wife takes her favorite position on your lap. “My love, my honey, my world,” you call to her, “thank you for staying by my side all these years. I’m very thankful for you, love.” Yooyeon still gets shy whenever you praise her, which is cute, really. “Oh my God,” she covers her red face, “you’re always so sweet to me, honey.” She takes a deep breath and looks at you in the eyes. “I-I’m also thankful for you.” Her gaze stays strong and does not stray away from yours. “You’ve been the best husband I could ever ask for—I love you so much.”

After a quick kiss, Yooyeon tells you to take a shower. You lift her up and take her to the bathroom with you. “Ah, are we showering together?” She asks. You slap yourself internally for not asking first. “Oh, sorry, do you not want to?” “It’s not that,” she says, “it’s just that showering together takes longer.” That’s a valid point: “alright, you go first—I’ll wait for you on the sofa.” You lower her in front of the bathroom and turn around to walk towards the sofa again, but she stops you. “Look at me, please.” Your wife takes off her nightgown and shows you her nude form, and you notice that you’re getting hard—she probably notices it, too. Your eyes roam on her body, looking at her from top to bottom. “You look good, love—you always do,” you praise her, holding back your drool, “now go take a shower, please.” She mutters a soft thank you as she disappears behind the bathroom door.

After taking a shower yourself, you’re now ready to get breakfast with your wife. She says she wants to take a ride on the motorcycle, citing that she’s missed hugging you from behind while you ride around the city with her. She’s dressed for it, so you have no reason to say no, so here you are: riding around the city with your wife on the passenger seat, hugging you from behind as she wishes.

You arrive at her preferred breakfast spot after a short ride on Bob, your motorcycle, and your wife immediately jumps off in excitement—she’s so excited that she forgets that she still has her helmet on. “Not so fast, love,” you call to her via the intercom, “come here, let me take off your helmet.” She turns around comedically, and you can see her eye smile through the clear visor. You reach for the latch and lift the helmet off her head, making a small mess of her hair. She tidies it as much as she can, and you finish it by tucking a stray hair behind her ear. You then proceed to take off your helmet and walk with her inside the restaurant.

Yooyeon says that she’s been craving Singaporean-style butter toast, so she orders not one, but two toasts for herself—she even stutters when ordering, feeling embarrassed by herself. You, on the other hand, aren’t too interested in toasts, so you opt for congee with char siu beef, because congee in the morning is just too good to miss out on. After ordering, you find a table to sit at and talk to kill time.

Your wife pulls out her phone from her pocket. “Honey, your brother just texted me,” she says. “Which one?” You ask because you have twin little brothers. She scratches her head as she tries to remember his name. “Uh, erm, Jaehyun-ie—whatever his other name is.” You chuckle slightly. “Shane,” you remind her, “it’s Shane.” She puts on a grin as she nods. “Anyway,” she returns to the subject, “he said congratulations on the anniversary, and that he hopes to propose to Jiwoo by next month.” You’re glad that things are working out for your brother and his girlfriend; he’s a nice person and she’s an even better person. You tell your wife to thank him for the congratulations. “Also, tell him that I wish him a happy life with his girlfriend,” you add. “Alri—oh, he’s calling us, hon.”

Before she picks up the call, she moves to sit next to you. “It’s a video call, hon,” she says as she aims her front camera at the two of you, “I’m picking up in 3, 2, 1.”

“Hey, guys,” you greet Shane and his girlfriend, “good morning!”

“Good morning, hyung and noona,” he says, “congratulations on the 6th anniversary, guys. We wish you eternal happiness.”

“Thank you, Shane,” you put on a thumbs-up, “how are you guys doing?”

His girlfriend takes the turn to speak, “we’ve been very good, oppa. I know we’re not married yet, but our 2nd anniversary is around the corner.”

You put on a big smile, in approval of their relationship. “Ask Shane to take you on a dinner, Jiwoo-yah; I’m sure he has the money for it.”

You then turn to your wife and hand the talking stick over to her. As soon as she starts talking to them, you see a waiter walking towards you with a tray full of food in his hands. You help him place the bowls on the table and ask Yooyeon to show them the food. “Yah, look at this,” Yooyeon switches to her rear camera and aims it at the food, “you guys want to join us?” Through the video call, you see Jiwoo slapping Shane’s thigh repeatedly. “Ahhhh, unnieeee,” Jiwoo whines cutely, “that’s Morningside, isn’t it? Oh my God, I’ve missed Morningside!” Jiwoo turns to Shane and whispers something to him, and he responds with a nod—they probably just set their next date. “We’ll join you next time, unnie,” Jiwoo says with an eye smile on her face, “we have other things to do today.”

After a few more minutes of conversation, they’re now ready to end the call. “Harvey-oppa, Yooyeon-unnie,” Jiwoo says, her tone sweet and sincere, “congratulations on the anniversary, seriously. I hope me and oppa get to live happily together like the two of you.” You and Yooyeon thank her for the kind words, and after exchanging waves, they end the video call. “Love, text Shane for me, please,” you say as you sprinkle pepper into your congee, “tell him to visit us this Saturday for Jack-in-the-box.” She asks what it means, but you deflect: “he’ll know, love, don’t worry.”

“Let’s get changed, love,” you poke your wife, who is scrolling mindlessly through social media, “we need to leave soon.” She puts her phone down on the bed and moves to sit on your lap. “I have something special for tonight, hon; I hope you like it,” she says. “I’d say the chance of me liking it close to 100%,” you peck her on the lips, “get off me, please, love.”

Your wife returns the peck before jumping off your body, and in turn, the bed—and you follow suit after her. Based on how her face is decorated with a grin and pink cheeks, you can tell that she’s excited to show you what surprise she has up her sleeve. “Come oooon, get out of here!” She fixes her hands on your back and pushes you out of the bedroom.

You walk towards the spare bedroom that was turned into a walk-in closet a few years ago to find something nice to wear. You estimate that Yooyeon will be wearing a dress, but it’s the color of said dress that is the question. So, to anticipate, you grab some sets of jackets and trousers of different colors: navy, light grey, and dark blue. Along with them, you also grab a black shirt and a white shirt. “Do I need to wear a tie?” You tap your chin as you think about it. “Eh, probably not,” you decide, “I’m not in the mood." You then proceed to unlock your phone and say, “hey, Nudle, choose a number between 1 and 3.” After a short animation, the AI voice assistant picks 1. “Navy blue, it is.”

You quickly get rid of your T-shirt and shorts and let them pile on the floor. You then take the white shirt off its hanger and put it on. Before you put on your suit, you take a quick sniff to make sure it doesn’t smell when it’s being stored, and thankfully for you, it doesn't. “Oh, perfume—how did I forget.” You unbutton your shirt again and spray your wife’s favorite perfume on your belly button, chest, armpits, and nape. You continue dressing up and stand in front of the mirror to make sure everything is nice and tidy. “Heh, I look good,” you praise yourself, “no wonder Yooyeon-ie fell for me.”

After getting dressed up, you walk towards the bedroom and knock on the door. “Are we ready, love?” The door slowly swings open, revealing your wife, who is dressed in a fancy black sleeveless dress—she’s also wearing the necklace you bought for her. “Goodness me,” you feel your breath get taken away, “you look incredible, love.” Yooyeon reveals that she bought it when she went out with Kotone yesterday afternoon while you and Yunho played tennis.

“You like it, hon? I bought it specifically for tonight.” That’s an unnecessary question, isn’t it? “Of course, I do, love,” you scan her from top to bottom, “my God, aren’t you God’s most beautiful creation.” She smiles oh-so-beautifully thanks to your praise, and she rewards you with a peck on the lips. “Come on, hon,” she says, “I have a feeling that we’ll start getting horny if we don’t leave now.”

A staff member of The Sapphire greets you at the front door and asks, “are you here for a reservation?” You say yes and tell him your name, and after looking at his list, he turns to you again with a smile. “Follow me, please, sir and madam.” Your wife wraps an arm around yours as the two of you follow the staff into the restaurant to be taken to your table.

You follow him up the fancy stairs and onto the second floor, where a table costs more than any other part of the restaurant thanks to the privacy it offers. “I should thank Yunho for this,” you think. The staff stops at a table in the corner and politely points at it. “Would you like to have wine or champagne, sir and madam?” You decline politely, telling him that you and Yooyeon stopped drinking years ago—you’d like to have water in its place. “Of course, sir,” he says, “your course will start soon; please kindly wait.”

You show the staff a kind smile as he starts walking away, leaving you alone with your wife. “Love,” Yooyeon places her hands in the middle of the table, “thank you for taking me here—I love you.” You hold her hands and rub the back of them with your thumbs. “I love you more, love,” you say, “happy anniversary.” “Happy anniversary to you, too.” Your wife smiles at you lovingly, and you notice the way her eyes are glassy from unreleased tears.

“Love, listen to me, please,” you take a deep breath before saying your next point. “I know that sometimes I spend too much time working and come home very late but believe me that everything I do is out of love for you—you matter the most to me, love, and it’s been an honor for me to be able to provide for the two of us like this.” You don’t know what made you say that, but it just feels right at the moment. “I know,” her voice trembles from the emotions, “believe me, I know.” She pulls out a handkerchief from her purse and wipes a tear with it. “I always pray for you when you’re not at home, and when you are, I always want to show you how much I love you,” she adds.

You can tell that she wants to kiss you, but this round table is in the way. There’s no one else on this floor, so you summon her to you so that you can kiss her. She sits sideways on your lap—because her dress doesn’t allow her to sit like she usually does—and kisses you passionately, screaming at you how much she loves you. “I will always love you, Harvey,” she says, her eyes still glassy. “Did you say Harvey or hubby?” You crack a little joke to lighten the mood, earning a laugh from your wife. “Go back to your seat, love; the food will be here soon.”

“What are we having, honey?” Yooyeon asks. “Yunho showed me a list and here are the things I chose—you ready?” Before you can say the first thing, your wife shows you an open palm to halt you. “That’s alright, hon; I’m sure the server will tell us what we’re eating,” she says. You burst out laughing as a response. “Yeah, you’re right.”

You didn’t have to wait long until the first dish was brought out to your table. “These are the sea scallops with avocado, frisée, and key lime vinaigrette, sir and madam.” A server sets two small plates on your table while another server pours water into your glasses. “Please enjoy, sir and madam; we are glad to have you with us tonight.”

After the servers leave your table, you raise your glass. “Together always, in joy and in sorrow, for better or for worse,” you say. Your wife repeats the line and clinks her glass with yours. “I will never get tired of saying that line,” she says, “now, shall we?” Yes, we shall—let’s stop talking and start eating, hey? It’s what the two of you came here for.

You’re now back at home after a few hours of dinner. You sit on the sofa without changing your clothes, because you can’t be bothered to do so just yet. “Wait here, hon,” your wife enters the bedroom, presumably to get something she wants to show you.

She comes out of the bedroom while hugging a photo album. “Oppa,” she calls to you, “would you be down to go down the memory lane?” You nod, “sure, come and sit next to me, love.” She waddles cutely towards you, her face decorated with a beautiful eye smile and an adorable grin.

“First thing first,” she says as she opens the album, “your love letter to me, which you sent via Shane.” You feel your cheeks getting hot; you had Shane go to the post office and send a letter you had written to Yooyeon, in it a love confession and an invitation to dinner—the mail was under his name, too. “I wonder if Shane wrote Jiwoo a love confession like his brother did to me,” Yooyeon piles on. “Do you remember what you wrote, by the way?” You nod. “Of course I do—how can I forget? That was my last attempt at courting you.”

The letter went a little bit like this:

“Dear Miss Kim Yooyeon,

I’ve been meaning to share with you the thing that has been on my mind for quite some time.

From the moment we met, I felt attracted to you in a way that I couldn’t describe. Your sweetness, your sharpness of mind, and the way you perceive things around you have captivated me in ways that I never expected. In the short conversations we’ve shared, I found myself longing for the next one, and the next one, and the one after that. I eventually realized that there was something deeper than just mere excitement or admiration—it’s love.

With this letter, I would like to be honest and let you know that I cherish and treasure you more than words can express. Your presence in my life, despite being minimal (for now), has brought me so much joy and excitement, and I can’t help but think of a future together, where we share more memories, more laughs, and more dreams.

With that in mind, I would like to have the chance to spend more time with you in a special way. Would you like to join me for dinner? My family has a special place we often go to together, and I think that it would be such a great honor if you could be my guest. Perhaps we will be able to talk more about us and see how we might proceed from here.

Kindly let me know if you’re free next weekend and interested in this. Please understand that I want you to know how much you mean to me, and I look forward to hearing from you.

With affection and respect,

Han ‘Harvey’ Hyunjin.”

“I was so confused why you wrote your name like this,” Yooyeon says, placing a finger on your name, “I had always known you as Harvey.” You chuckle in response. “You’re not the first person to say that, love.”

Yooyeon then moves on to the picture on the first page. “Florence, honey.” She shows you a selfie of the two of you eating gelato while sitting on a bench. You sigh as you carefully tread the lane of memory. “We had fought a few days before we left for Florence, hadn’t we, love?” Your wife lets out a sigh too. “I saw a piece of paper on the kitchen counter, and I thought that was our divorce paper,” she says, “imagine my surprise when I found out that it was our plane ticket.” You wrap an arm around your wife and softly say, “I’m so sorry for that, love; I was so self-centered and didn’t take your feelings into account.” “It’s okay,” she pecks the side of your face, “I think we’ve learned a lot since that.”

“Next,” she looks at the other side of the page, “moving into this house.” The price of the house had gone up a few weeks prior, forcing you to sell your cars so that you could afford it. “You could’ve taken my money and kept the cars, you know,” your wife says, a hint of regret in her voice. “But that was your life savings, love; I couldn’t bring myself to take it,” you reason. “I know, but still, I wouldn’t have had a problem with that,” she counters.

She bursts out laughing when she sees the first picture on the next page. “Oh my God, I remember this like it was yesterday,” she points at the picture of her getting licked by a camel in Dubai. You join her in laughing as you recall the memory. “You were so startled that you fell backwards—if you hadn’t worn jeans back then, the camel guy would’ve seen your panties.” Yooyeon covers her face and shakes her head. “God, it was so close to being disastrous.” Aside from the photo, you also have a video on your phone of her sliding down a sand hill on a sled while screaming from the top of her lungs, which is both very funny and memorable.

Her smile fades instantly when she sees the picture placed on the 4th page—it’s a picture of you bearing your uncle’s pall with your twin brothers and dad, taken by Yooyeon from a distance. “Your uncle, hon,” she says, sadness woven in her voice. Your mom’s older brother passed away from cardiac arrest in the middle of the night, right when you were having sex to celebrate your 4th anniversary. You remember stopping abruptly when you heard the news through your smartwatch, thus ruining your and her mood. “What went through your head when we had to stop, love?” You ask, trying to understand what it was like for her. “Please don’t get mad, but initially I was so unhappy,” she says, “I had been so desperate for your touch, but then we had to end awkwardly like that.” You peck her head as a gesture of apology. “I’m sorry about that, love, but I’m sure you know what he meant for us.”

You move on to the final page of the album, which has two pictures on it. Placed on the top is a picture of Yooyeon holding a plate full of cookies with you sleeping in the background. Underneath that is a group selfie of you, Yooyeon, Shane, Jiwoo, and Shaun who was holding the phone (he was single at the time), taken after dinner at your house. Jiwoo made scones and they were so good that Yooyeon asked her to make one more batch before letting her leave. Jiwoo and Shaun ended up staying the night at your house because it was so late by the time she was done.

“Did you hear Jiwoo’s moans, by the way?” Your wife’s question stuns you momentarily. “Excuse me?” “Oh, you must’ve been asleep,” she chuckles, “I heard them when I was on my way to the toilet, and all I’m going to say is that Shane must be good at sex, just like his older brother.” “Shane, you—oh, my fucking God!” You palm your forehead, unsure of what to make of this information. You certainly did not need to know that your little brother was smashing his girlfriend while staying at your house. “Well, at least Shane and Jiwoo were happy,” you think.

“Speaking of moaning,” your wife moves to sit on your lap, “you haven’t made me moan yet—it’s time to rectify that, don’t you think?” You burst out laughing, amused by her stunt. Yooyeon from 5 to 6 years ago would beat around the bush whenever she wanted sex, but nowadays, she’ll say the craziest things to get you to touch her. “I never thought you’d be so crazy, love,” you say. “Can we start now, please? I-I’m impatient,” she says, her cheeks hot.

Your wife doesn’t want to have sex outside the bedroom, and as boring as it is sometimes, you don’t want to go against her wishes. With that in mind, you carry your wife by her butt to the bedroom. On the way there, you notice that her breathing is getting faster, so you rush to the bedroom and promptly sit on the edge of the bed.

“Love, are you okay?” You ask, concerned about how her heart is racing for seemingly no reason. She takes a deep breath before answering. “I-I have a feeling that I’m fertile today, a-and you might make me pregnant if you… y’know.” “Do you want to get pregnant, love?” She stays silent for a little while as she thinks of an answer—only to end up returning the question to you. “D-do you want me to get pregnant, honey?” “No, no, no, it doesn’t work like that,” you deflect, “this isn’t just about me, love; if you don’t want to get pregnant, then we’re not getting you pregnant.” She takes another moment of silence as she thinks about her options. “Don’t worry about your parents, love; this life is ours, not theirs, and we get to make our own choices,” you assure her. “Okay,” she says, “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to get pregnant—not yet at least.” You assure her again that she has nothing to be sorry for and that you’ll never let anyone press your wife into getting pregnant.

“I love you,” she says, seemingly out of nowhere, “thank you for everything, honey.” You want to say it back to her, but you think that it’s better to kiss her instead. Without breaking the kiss, your wife holds your hand and guides it to the zipper on her back, signaling to you that she wants to undress. With little effort, you manage to unzip her dress all the way down and sneak your hand inside to feel her soft skin. She abruptly breaks the kiss and jumps off your lap. You ask if she’s okay, and she responds by putting on a sexy smile and turns her back against you.

You keep an eye on your wife as she wiggles her body around, and would you look at that: her dress falls off swiftly with little effort and pools around her feet, revealing her strapless bra and matching panties. She turns her head to the side just enough to see you wiping drool from the corners of your lips. “You’re never going to get tired of me, are you?” “No, I’m not,” you say, “have you seen yourself? Do you need to look in the mirror again?” Satisfied with the exchange, she turns around and kneels in between your legs. “What are we waiting for then?”

You can hear the machine-like hum from the AC, so you know that the only reason it’s getting so hot in this bedroom is because of your arousal. With your wife still kneeling on the floor in front of you, you free yourself from the constraints that are your jacket and shirt, and you see that your wife is smiling at you. You’re struggling to decide if her smile is sexy or beautiful, though—you know you like it, that’s for sure.

“Would you like to do the honors?” You offer your wife the chance to take off your pants. Without saying a word, she unbuckles your belt and unzips your pants. “May I?” How cute is it that she’s still asking for permission in this position? “Yes, love, you may,” you say. She puts her hands on the inside of the waistband and makes sure that she’s also grabbing your boxers. She gives you one more look and you respond with a nod. With a grunt, Yooyeon pulls your pants and boxers down, thus freeing your cock from its constraints.

She starts stroking your shaft, admiring the length and stiffness. “Wow,” she utters, “it’s crazy how it fits in my body every single time.” It seems like she said it without thinking, judging by how she jolts a little after. “Anyway,” she chuckles, “here I go.” Your wife parts her lips and eases you into her mouth—nothing too crazy for now; she’s not rushing to take you deep right away. That said, it’s still very pleasant for you. You place a hand on her head and pet her gently, praising her for the good work and encouraging her to keep going. “Yes, love,” you say, “that’s very good, baby.”

She does love hearing praises (especially from you) but at the same time, they make her get overexcited sometimes, so you keep an eye on her and make sure that she won’t end up hurting herself while sucking your cock. “Ghlk!” Well, speak of the devil; she just choked on your shaft. “Easy, love, easy; there’s no need to rush,” you try to calm her down—alas, it doesn’t seem to work. In the moment of panic, your wife stumbles backwards, thus removing you from her mouth, and starts coughing. You pick her up from the floor and make her sit on your lap. “It’s okay, love—it’s okay,” you rub her chest gently, “you’re okay, you’re okay. Let’s calm down for a second, yeah?”

After catching her breath, she’s now able to function properly again. “I’m sorry,” she says, “I-I got excited because you praised me.” “I had a feeling that’d happen,” you peck her on the lips once, “thank you for trying, love.” Yooyeon accepts your thanks with a smile, which makes you smile yourself.

You move to the middle of the bed with her, and that’s when she says that she’s ready to continue. “C-can we try something?” She asks, and you swear that you can see a floating bulb over her head. “We sure can, love; tell me what you need from me,” you say. First of all, she asks that you let her go and lie on your back, which is very easy to do. She then moves to sit on your lap and tells you the next part. “I will ride you like this, hon, but you can’t touch me at all,” she says as she takes off her panties, tossing it over her head after. “That sounds difficult, love—are you sure you’re not asking too much from me?” She lets out a laugh at your joke. “That’s your challenge, hon; do that and I’ll make sure it’s worth your while,” she promises, “now, hands above your head, please.”

You do as she asks and put your hands on the bed above your head. “I’m all yours, baby,” you hand over the controls to her. “That’s usually my line, is it not?” With your cock in her hand, she guides it towards her entrance and slowly takes you in. “Oh, God, this will never get old,” she says. It feels odd to not have your hands on her, but you’re committed to completing the challenge. Your wife maintains eye contact with you as she starts rolling her hips back and forth, basking in the sensation of being stretched by your girth. “S-struggling, hon?” “Yeah, and so are you,” you say, “I know—” Yooyeon cuts you off with a slap on the cheek. “Quiet, you; I’m calling the shots today.”

“Fuck, that’s naughty,” you think to yourself. You’re not offended or turned off by the little act of violence—it arouses you more, in fact; you’re as hard as you can get in her tight core right now. “I’m yours, mistress,” you rile her up by playing submissive. “Damn right you are,” she puts on a naughty smirk. She leans forward to hold your wrists down and she’s far enough forward that her tits are within licking range. “Be a good boy and make me cum, will you?”

After getting a nod from you, she starts fucking herself on your cock, going up and down at her own pace. It’s cute to see that she’s moaning so freely despite her tough and dominant front. On the other hand, you’re having so much fun right now; your wife is taking control after being submissive for countless sessions over the years, and you seriously hope that this isn’t just a one-time thing.

You notice that she’s starting to slow down and showing signs of exhaustion. “Is that all you have, mistress? All that talk and you’re tired already?” You taunt her, hoping that it’ll trigger her into speeding up again. “Fuck you,” she snarks, “fuck, this is harder than I thought.” You lift your head off the pillow just enough for your mouth to reach her tits and bite a nipple lightly. “You’re such a naughty boy, aren’t you—oh, fuck, fuck!” You put on a teasing smirk, “what are you going to do about it, mistress?”

The teasing proves to somewhat work—she makes a move for your exposed neck and bites you lightly, making her annoyance at your disobedience known. “Apologize,” she demands, “you don’t want to get hurt, do you?” “N-no,” you adhere to her demand, “I-I’m sorry, mistress.” She pecks you on the lips, satisfied with your apology. “That’s a good boy.”

Your wife fixes her lips on your neck and starts moving her hips again, squeezing you with her tightness, and you can’t help but let out low-pitched moans right into her ears. You notice that she starts sucking on your neck harder. “Mark me, mistress,” you egg her on, “show everyone I’m yours.” Thankfully for you, she’s good at multitasking; not only is she trying her hardest to plant hickeys on your neck, but she’s also not letting up the bounces of her hips. “You’re so good, mistress—you’re so good to me,” you praise her, and you’re starting to wonder if this is considered being submissive.

It seems like she’s finally satisfied with her work on your neck, as she retreats from it and straightens her posture—she also frees your wrists and plants her hands on your chest. “Make me cum, my dear boy,” she reminds you of your task, “please, make your mistress cum.” Her wish is your command tonight, so you do your best to thrust into her from below, making her entire body bounce in the process. Your wife seems to approve this method, as the moans she’s letting out are louder and more frequent. “Am I doing it well, mistress?” “Yes—God, yes, you are,” she says with heavy pants, “please, please, I’m so close already.”

You pick up your pace and fuck her as fast as this position allows you—all the while you’re fighting the strong urge to lay hands on your wife. “Honey, honey,” she calls to you, “I’m about to burst—oh, oh, yes!” Her announcement removes whatever sign of exhaustion from your body and instead fuels the flame of your arousal. “Come on, love,” you subconsciously drop the name, “let’s cum—let’s fucking cum now.”

With a scream, Yooyeon lifts herself off your cock and sprays her juice all over your torso—some of it even hits your face, how nice. You take some in your fingers and have a taste—hmm, interesting taste. You look at your panting wife, whose eyes are closed and lips trembling, as her orgasm takes her to the seventh heaven. You guess that you’ve completed the challenge and are now allowed to touch her, so you take her in your arms and pull her into a cuddle.

“Did I do well, mistress?” You ask teasingly, not forgetting the name. “Ve-very well,” she shows you a thumbs-up, “I am spent, hon.” You ask if she liked taking the dominant role, and she covers her face in shyness. “I-I think I liked it,” she says, “y-you were cooperative too, hon.” You pepper her face with quick pecks, overwhelming her with them. “I aim to please, my love.” She puts her hands on either side of your face and comes in for a proper kiss, and you can really feel that she loves and appreciates you. “I love you,” she affirms, “I love you so, so, so, so, so much.” “I love you so, so, so, so, so, much more,” you say, chuckling after.

You excuse yourself to get some water and your wife asks you to grab her phone from the living room while you’re at it. “A missed call from someone named Jaehoon?” You furrow your eyebrows, a hint of suspicion in your head. “Oh my God, Jaehoon-ie,” you slap your forehead as the realization hits, “that’s just Shaun.” You almost forget that your wife saves you and your brothers by your other names on her phone.

You walk into the bedroom with her phone in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. “Love,” you call to her, “a missed call from Jaehoon-ie.” After getting her phone back from you, Yooyeon calls Shaun back in case he has something important to say.

“Hello, noona,” he says, “were you asleep?”

“No, I wasn’t,” she looks at you with a naughty smirk, “your brother was smashing me so I couldn’t pick up the phone.”

“What the f—I didn’t need to know that, you know.”

Yooyeon hands her phone over to you, and in exchange, you hand the bottle over to her and sit on the edge of the bed.

“Yo, hello,” you take over, “what time is it in New York, Shaun?”

“Uhh,” he takes a moment of silence, probably to check his watch, “around 9 in the morning—we just had breakfast.”

“Oh, right, you’re there with Seeun-ie, aren’t you?”

As soon as you say it, you hear a woman’s laugh from Shaun’s side of the call—wait, why is your wife crawling to you?

“Hello, oppa,” Seeun greets you warmly, “good morning from New York!”

“Good morning, cookie,” you say, still keeping an eye on your wife, who is now kneeling in between your legs like earlier—she must be up to no good. “So, what did you call us for?” Shaun is giving you an answer, but your focus is directed at your wife, who’s starting to give you head. You take a deep breath to concentrate and make sure you don’t arouse suspicion from your brother and his girlfriend.

“I have a feeling that you’re not listening to me, hyung,” Shaun notices, “is noona touching you?”

Well, you’re caught—might as well open the cards for everyone to see. “Yeah, she’s sucking me off,” you reveal nonchalantly, “talk to you guys soon.”

You hear a little surprised yelp from Seeun as you’re hanging up the phone but it’s whatever; you’re all adults. “You couldn’t wait, love? Are you that impatient?” You question your wife, who’s going up and down your shaft with her mouth. She gives you a little wink, and a naughty idea enters your mind. With her phone in hand, you open the camera app and aim it at her. ��Say cheese, love.” As soon as she makes eye contact with the camera, you take a picture. You show your wife the picture of her with a quarter of your shaft in her mouth. You expect her to get mad and ask you to delete it, but she doesn’t—she just lets out a giggle. “I guess that’s our entry for this year,” she says, “anyway, I’m going again—don’t disturb me, please.”

You want to say that it was Shaun who disturbed the two of you, but the way she’s wrapping her lips around your shaft stifles your tongue. “That’s really good, love,” you praise her, “remember, don’t get too excited.” Yooyeon takes a deep breath through her nose before negotiating your shaft deeper into her mouth, possibly into her throat. “Fuck, you’re crazy, love,” you comment.

You see that she’s in a halt, so you ask if she’s okay. She pulls away momentarily to take a breather and possibly say something. “I’m okay, don’t worry,” she says, “how far do you think I can take you?” “Sorry?” You can’t believe your ears. “I want to see how far down I can take you, hon, but I think I need your help—you’ll need to push my head from behind.” “If I see that you’re uncomfortable, I’m pulling out, okay?”

Once the two of you have come to an agreement, Yooyeon parts her lips again and takes you in her mouth. You let her go as far forwards as she can while making sure that she’s not in stress or danger. It’s when she reaches halfway down your shaft that she stops. “Let’s try this, love, alright?” You place a hand on the back of her head and gently push her towards your crotch. “Fuck, you’re so fucking good at this, love,” you let another praise fly out of your lips.

Yooyeon closes her eyes as more of your shaft enters her mouth, and she can feel the tip of your penis poking the back of her throat. “Stay calm, Kim Yooyeon; you can do this—do it for your precious husband”, her brain tells her. She plants her hands on your thighs as she tries her hardest to keep her jaws as wide open as she can. She tries looking up at you to find comfort, and you make sure to look her right in the eyes, smiling as you do. “You’re doing great, love—you’re so damn good at this,” you pet her head gently, not pushing her further down your shaft.

You notice that she’s getting limp, so you promptly retreat from her throat so that she can breathe. You pull her into your lap again and immediately spam her with praises. “You were so brave, love,” you say, “I admire how you’re willing to go the distance for my pleasure.” You don’t care if it sounds so self-centered, but it’s true in your opinion. “You’re my husband,” she rubs the side of your face gently, “your happiness is the top of my priority.” You thank her for that attitude, but you also assure her that she’s equally important in this relationship, and that she’s always welcome to express her desires.

“Is that so?” She asks the obvious. “Yes, that is so,” you state the obvious. “Well in that case,” she places her hand on her crotch, “you haven’t been here yet.” You ask if she wants you to wear a condom, but she firmly declines. “I’ll just take the pill after, it’s not a big issue,” she says. You ask if she wants to take control again, but she says no. “Being dominant is tiring, hon,” she says.

With that out of the way, you stand up and lower your wife onto the floor. You then turn her around and bend her over the edge of the bed. “Oh, I’m going to be so sore tomorrow,” she says, letting out a chuckle after, “well, what are you—oh, God, honey.” You cut her off by plunging your cock deep into her. “Sorry, you were saying?” You tease her, but she can’t reply because she’s too busy moaning—she also doesn’t have to put on a charade like earlier; she just simply needs to act like she usually does: submissive and obedient.

You failed to notice that your hands were on her hips the entire time, so you remove them and put them behind your back. “Oh, oh—w-what are you doing? Where—ngh—where are your hands?” Well, it seems like she does like it when your hands are on her body. “Sorry, I thought you didn’t want me to touch you,” you say jokingly, “here, let me fix that.” You place one hand on her hip and use the other to deliver a slap onto her butt, making her scream. “Like this, love?” You spank her one more time with your other hand. “Or maybe like this?”

Your wife squirms around as she tries to cope with the sting from the slap, but your big hands don’t allow her to move too much. “H-honey,” she says weakly, “s-stop hitting me, please.” You stop your thrusts momentarily to apologize and ease her pain by rubbing her butt cheeks gently. “I’m sorry, baby—was I too rough? Would you like to stop for a moment?” Seeing that she’s nodding, you retreat from her warmth and flip her onto her back. You then move her into a more comfortable position in bed, giving her the time to catch her breath and calm herself down.

After getting herself together, Yooyeon reaches her arms out, inviting you to enter her warm embrace. “To me, please,” she asks, her voice weak and quiet. You join her in bed and wrap your arms around her, not forgetting to apologize for being too rough on her. “I-I often forget how lustful you are for me,” she says. “You are my wife, love; if I’m not lustful for you, then something must be wrong with me,” you reply. It is true, though, is it not? If a man like you is married to a woman like her but isn’t interested in getting sexual with her, then that guy must be fucked in the head—and the narrator shares the same idea, too.

She stays in your arms for a few more minutes until she feels ready to go again—she begs you to not be so rough this time. “Certainly, love,” you say. You roll over so that you’re on top of your wife, and without being asked, she parts her legs and wraps them around your body. “You know,” she calls for your attention, “I always feel loved when we do it like this, oppa.” Hearing her refer to you by that term makes your heart flutter—it makes you feel like you’re 26 again, back when you were still trying to court her. “I do love you, sweetheart—I will always love you until you’re sick of me.”

She places a hand on your nape and pulls you down towards her for a kiss, and while your lips are connected with hers, you hold your cock in one hand and ease your way into her warmth again. When it first goes in, Yooyeon breaks the kiss and moans right against your lips. “I love you, Hyunjin-oppa,” she says in a soft tone, “you’re always so kind and sweet to me.” “Thank you, love; I try my hardest for you,” you replicate the soft tone, “and I love you more, Yooyeon-ah.”

You start moving your hips slowly, really savoring how warm and tight she is around your girth. “Love, I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can last too long,” you say, hoping that she won’t be disappointed. “That’s fine; I don’t want to work too hard for your cum anyway,” she says. You move your head to the side and latch on her neck, and your wife’s moans get louder in response.

You can feel your cock twitching in her core, and she can feel it too. “C’mon, honey, give it to me. Give it to—oh!” With a grunt, you blow your load deep into your wife, just the way she likes it. You stay inside her and wait until all of your cum has come out of your penis. At the same time, your wife is letting out a very long moan, as your warm semen enters her body.

You’re starting to get drowsy for some reason, though. “Kim Yooyeon, I… love—”

You stir awake in the middle of the night when you hear a thud. In your half-awake state, you move your hands around, and the fact that you can’t feel your wife’s presence makes you jolt in panic.

You lift your head and see that your wife is on the floor while rubbing her knees, seemingly in pain. “Love, are you okay?” You ask, still unable to fully open your eyes. “I am, honey—ow, shit!” You ask what she’s doing, and she tells you that she was trying to get the polaroid camera from the wardrobe, but her legs were too weak, causing her to fall on her knees. “I will—” a yawn cuts you off, “I will get it for you, love.”

You gather your consciousness and get off the bed. You first help your wife and place her on the bed before heading towards the wardrobe to get the camera and film. You insert one film into the one-eyed machine and hand it over to your wife. “What are you doing with it, love?” Your wife claps her hands twice to turn on the lights and asks you to sit next to her. “Let’s take a picture, oppa; I don’t think a picture of me sucking you is appropriate to be displayed,” she says.

You chuckle in agreement with your wife. You move to sit next to her and rub your eyes to fully wake up. “Say cheese, oppa.” Yooyeon aims the camera at the two of you and presses a button. After a short while, the film comes out and she shakes it with all her might until the picture is clearly visible. “Happy anniversary, my beloved husband,” she says, love and affection woven in her voice. “Happy anniversary, my dear wife,” you reply.

After a quick kiss, you hold her hands in yours. “Together always, in joy and in sorrow, for better or for worse.” “Indeed,” she replies, “together always, until death do us part.” “Hey, that’s new—did you come up with it recently?” She slaps your chest lightly while laughing. “Come, let’s go back to sleep, oppa.”

#girl group smut #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #triples smut #kpop fanfiction #male reader #male reader smut #smut

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christhopersturniolo · 7 months

Text

୨ HOCKEY PROBLEMS ୧

summary: you have been having some problems in your relationship with Chris, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t loves you.

notes: this is my first time writing a fanfic, I've always wanted to create one since 2020. english isn't my first language, it's probably not very detailed and there might be some mistakes, so don't expect too much lol. but give me feedback tho, l'd love to know what you think!

warnings: sexual assault, cussing, fluff, about three thousand words I think.

୨୧

My relationship with my boyfriend Chris is not the best. Well, at least, not now.

Lately we’ve been arguing all day long over stupid things, like who gets the last slice of pizza, or who gets the last word in a discussion. And it always ends in the same way. Silent treatment, from both sides. But it's not like Chris or I enjoy it. Most nights, I hear him in the bathroom, where he spend hours in tears. It’s horrible and makes me feel like a piece of shit. Hearing him cry only adds to my own feelings of guilt.

And how do we make things up? Sex, over and over. He would fuck the attitude out of me if he had to.

Me and Chris made a pinky promise that I would never miss any of his Hockey games. And I never did, cause i know how much my presence is important to him. And especially cause we are always in good terms the days before any of his games, but not today, we just argued again about nothing, we haven't talked for the past two days.

Nick and Matt, Chris's brothers, usually text me and offer to pick me up for Chris's games, but this time, their texts never came. It’s like they knew how our relationship was going. Chris definitely told them something.

Now you see myself driving to the arena where he plays in, the game is about to start in 20 minutes, and with this traffic, I don’t know if I will be there in time.

Red sign for the past 5 minutes. I have cars in front of me, behind me and next to me. Fuck. I start getting anxious. My nerves are on edge. I bit my nails subconsciously, the habit I got from my dad. My leg starts shaking. I can’t mess up things even more, I gotta be there, I have to be there.

After what feels like an eternity stuck in traffic, the car in front of me finally starts moving. I let out a sigh of relief as I find a parking spot. After that, I enter the venue where Chris plays (Which wasn’t that big, cause he plays in a small team in our city.)

Before taking a seat I scan the crowd anxiously, searching for any familiar faces, no one, I can’t find anyone, not even his two brothers. “Fuck it” I mumble to myself and I just get in a seat with some random people next to me.

The game is about to start, the crowd is already cheering. The players are drinking water and getting ready to get in the rink. My eyes examine each one of them, looking for Chris, number three. He was with a serious face. ‘Are he’s eyes red?’ I think to myself as I narrow my eyes, my vision is bad as shit, but I can tell he’s eyes are all puffy. He has some big dark circles underneath his pretty blue eyes, he looks fucking exhausted, It was evident that he was crying just now.

The players finally begin to take to the ice, their skates gliding across the surface as they prepare for the game to begin.

On Chris's team, there are six talented players, used to winning every single game. However, this time, they were against a really good team. Chris hated that team. I hated that team. Well, not really the team, but one of the players: Cam, Cameron.

Cam is a completely fucking jerk, in college he would always try to hit on me, but I’ve never really went with his face, what would get on his nerves, especially when I started dating Chris. It went to the point where he would force me to have intimate things with him. He was the worst human alive, and I would do anything to see him dead.

FLASHBACK

I just had PE, finding myself alone in the girls locker room as I change clothes. The sound of the front door opening echoed, followed by quiet footsteps creeping up behind me, sending shivers down my spine. I try to ignore it.

As I slipped my shirt back on, I felt two hands grip the sides of my hips, and a warm breath brushed against my neck. I freeze for two seconds. I know this is not Chris. Without thinking, I instinctively push the hands away and I turn around quickly, only to come face to face with Cameron.

I glare at him, my heart racing with a mix of fear and anger. His smirk widens as he takes a step closer, invading my personal space. "What's the rush, sweetheart?" He whispers, his voice dripping with arrogance.

I take a step back feeling the wall behind me getting closer "What are you even doing here? Get the fuck away from me, Cameron" I say firmly, trying to sound like i’m not scared, but the reality is that I’m pissing my pants.

He chuckles like he’s making fun of me, his eyes glinting with malice. "Or what? You'll tell your precious boyfriend Chris?" He teases, moving closer until I can feel his breath on my face. grabbing my waist and pinning them against the wall. "Come on, babe, you know you want it as much as I do.." he affirms, leaning in to kiss me, touching his lips on mines.

“Get the fuck away!” I whisper yell as i try to punch him away but he grabs my wrists. I struggle against his hold, but his grip tightens, his fingers digging into my skin, definitely leaving red marks.

I don’t know what to do. I can’t move. I start panicking. This is my end.

Tears blur my vision as I plead "Cameron, stop!" My voice trembles with fear as he kisses me, his lips rough and demanding against mine. Each kiss is a painful reminder of my vulnerability. Each kiss feels like a violation. I feel dirty, tainted by his touch everywhere in my body. A wave of nausea churns in the pit of my stomach as I try to move him away from me.

"Stop fucking fighting, you are not getting away from me" He murmurs against my lips "You deserve this, you want this.” I try to move as he keeps pinning me "You think I don’t see the eyes you give me when I walk by? Huh slut?" He scoffs, his hot breath against my face. "You were begging for this."

“I wasn’t begging for any of this. I never gave him any ‘eyes,’ he’s fucking delusional!” I think to myself, but my words remain trapped in my throat, suffocated.

As his lips travel down to my neck, leaving a trail of unwanted kisses, I can’t do anything more than start crying and screaming, kicking my legs and arms.

I never went back to those lockers again.

END OF THE FLASHBACK

I hated him so fucking much, and Chris did even more. And now, they are about to compete against each other.

The moment Chris stepped onto the rink, I could see his eyes looking for someone known on the crowd. Desperately, I raised my hand and waved, hoping he would spot me. And he did. His face automatically softened into a gentle smile, erasing some of the tension that had been weighing on me, but he was still with his tired eyes.

The game started with an intensity that matched the tension in the air. Both teams were determined to win. Cameron eyes were burning with rage. At this point, they weren’t competing as a team, it wasn’t about the game, it was about their personal life.

As the game progressed, the rivalry between them two escalated. They began to argue on the ice, each vying for control of the puck with increasing aggression.

Chris managing to gain possession of the puck and score two goals in less than five minutes. But Cam, folded by his own anger, refused to back down. Without thinking he charged towards him at full speed. Cameron swung his stick, causing Chris to trip and fall hard onto the ice.

“What the fuck is he doing?” I say out loud as I get up from my seat to get a better view. Chris remained on the ground for what felt like an eternity, clearly in pain. Every player on the ice stopped and looked around confused without knowing what to do, but not Cameron. He keeps going with the puck in direction to make a goal, with a visible smile on his lips. But then he notices how everyone really stopped and he slows down too, annoyed, not showing any regret.

The thing is, my boyfriend is in a fetal position on the ice, unable to move and no one is doing anything about it? That’s not happening, not with Chris. Without a second thought, I get up from my seat, whispering apologies to those I brushed past as I made my way to the rink. Ignoring the stares and comments from the crowd, I stepped onto the ice, my focus solely on reaching Chris. I get in the rink. I don’t give a shit about who’s watching me.

Kneeling beside Chris. His nose was bleeding, he looked pale and disoriented. Gently, I placed a hand on his shoulder, my voice trembling with concern. "Chris" I whisper, my voice shaking "Are you okay? Please look at me..” I beg in a desperate tone

Chris struggled to respond, his voice barely above a whisper as he fought through the pain "Y-Yeah.. I’m fine.." His eyes half-closed in discomfort.

Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps drew my attention, and I glanced up to see some of the players from both teams getting around us, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern. Sensing the seriousness of the situation, a few of them hurried off to get help, while others stood by, unsure of what to do.

“Is he okay?” One of Chris's teammates asked as he knelt beside me, his voice filled with worry.

My anxiety spiked at the sight of Chris's condition, and I couldn't help but let my frustration show. "No, he’s not!" I replied, my voice unintentionally louder than intended. "Don’t you guys have nurses or some kind of medical staff here?!"

The teammate glanced back at me, his expression uncertain. "Yeah, I’m pretty sure they're on their way, don’t worry, he will be fine” He said sounding unsure.

I gently place Chris head on my lap, whispering sweet and calming words on his ear while we wait for someone help us. What I was saying was comforting me more than Chris.

Finally the arena's medical staff arrived, urging us to clear the area around Chris. They place him on a stretcher and wheeling him out of the rink. As they took Chris away, I followed closely behind them, my steps quickening to keep pace with their hurried movements. "Hey, excuse me," I called out to one of the workers, my voice tinged with desperation "Is it okay if I stay with him?" But they seemed way too focused on their task, ignoring me completely as they rushed Chris to a small emergency room they had here, leaving me behind on the hallway, my heart pounded with worry and frustration. But before I could even process what was happening, a familiar voice cut through the silence. I turn around,

Cameron.

"Look who it is" He says, his gaze fixated on me with an unsettling intensity. "Never thought I'd see you here, playing the concerned girlfriend” He chuckles.

My blood boiled at his words, the memories of his unwanted advances and aggressive behavior flooding back with nauseating clarity. "You're sick, Cameron." My voice trembling with rage “You can’t even stand losing a fucking game, you are insane.” I stay some seconds in silence before talking again "You better stay the hell away from me and Chris."

Cameron's smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he reveled in my discomfort. "Or what?" He teases, taking a step closer "You gonna hit me? Huh?” He talks in a mocking way

I raised my hand and delivered a good slap on his left cheek, the sound echoing through the empty hallway. "I fucking hate you!" I yell, my voice trembling with rage as I glared at him with undisguised contempt.

Before Cameron could react, the sound of approaching footsteps coming in our attention, and I glanced up to see some of Chris's teammates rushing towards us, their expressions a mix of concern and confusion.

"What's going on here?" The same blonde guy with a four in his shirt asks, his voice tinged with urgency as he eyed Cameron with suspicion.

"Nothing," he muttered, attempting to regain his composure, "I was just.. checking on Chris. But the workers said we have to wait, and unfortunately, I've got somewhere else to be." Cameron lies, fuck he’s good at lying.

He gets closer to me, placing his hand on my shoulder, rubbing it gently. “I hope he gets better” He said in a fake nice tone, like he means it, I move his hand away from me, making him get slightly angry again, he leaves. I watch him go, feeling a sense of relief wash over me knowing that he was finally out of here.

Turning back to Chris's teammate, I say “Anyways..” I take a deep breath “I will just wait here until they say something”

The blonde one nods understanding. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan to me” He replies, his voice filled with sympathy “So, the game was canceled, and we got shit to do, so we can’t really wait here”

“Yeah sure, no problem, I understand” I respond, I try to sound so nice as he is sounding “I'll make sure Chris texts you guys after he leaves the room.”

Chris's teammate nodded appreciatively and they all began to leave to the same direction as Cameron. I sit into a chair next to the door where Chris was, my mind racing thinking about Chris.

Some good ten minutes after, one of the workers is leaving the room, I look up at him, catching his attention. “Excuse me,” I begin, my voice laced with anticipation “can I see Chris?”

He nods, offering a small smile. “Of course, go ahead” He replies kindly before disappearing down the hallway.

Before I enter the room, I take a few deep breaths to control my anxiety. Knocking gently on the door, I slowly open it. He was sitting in a long bench with elastic bandage on his ankle and wrist. Chris's eyes light up at the moment he sees me and a warm smile spreads across his face.

“Shit Chris, I just slapped Cameron in the face!” I say as I close the door behind me. Chris immediately starts laughing. his laugh is contagious. I sit down next to him. “You did not” He keeps laughing

“What’s so funny? I’m being serious” I chuckle, feeling the tension ease from my mind as Chris's laughter fills the room.

"I'm sorry, babe" he says between laughs "But when was that?”

“Literally like fifteen minutes ago! Gosh he’s so fucking annoying! And did you see the way he literally made you fall on purpose? I could break his face right now” I say in a dramatic tone, making him laugh even more.

“Anyways he doesn’t matter..” I look around thinking about what to say “So what did the nurses say?”

Chris's laughter subsides as he leans back against the bench, his expression growing more serious “Nothing much.. I just sprained my foot and my wrist, but nothing much”

“Nothing much?!” I say slightly shocked with his words.

Chris chuckles softly, shaking his head at my reaction. "Okay, maybe it's a bit more than 'nothing much,' but I'll survive" He says with a reassuring smile, though I can see the pain behind his eyes.

I gently reach his injured hand, my thumb tracing comforting circles on the back of his hand. "I'm just glad it's nothing too serious," I say softly, my voice filled with genuine concern. "But still, I can't believe Cameron did that to you! He's such a pussy!" My last sentence makes Chris laugh again.

As I watch him, a sense of relief washes over me, knowing that despite everything, we are still able to find humor in the situation.

Some minutes talking until the silence fills back the room. We are definitely both thinking about the argument we had days ago, cause we didn’t talked since.

“I.. I wasn’t expecting for you to watch the game today” Chris says slightly looking down.

I stay in silence for some seconds “Listen, Chris" I begin, my voice soft but determined "About the arguments we've been having lately.. I know things haven't been the best.. But..” I sigh “But I still care about you, and I always will.”

Chris looks up at me, his eyes softening with emotion as he listens to my words. "I care about you too" He says, his voice filled with sincerity. "I hate that we've been arguing so much, especially over stupid shit.. I just.. I don't want to lose you.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I reach out to gently cup his cheek. "You're not going to lose me, Chris." I assure him. My thumb brushing over his skin affectionately.

He gently buries his face on the crook of my neck, I lay my chin on the top of his head, and I wrap my arms around him, holding him close.

"I'm sorry for everything," Chris murmurs against my skin. "I don't want us to keep fighting like this."

Now I run my fingers through his hair, feeling a sense of peace settle over us. "I'm sorry too.." My voice sounding like a whisper. "Let's try to work through this together, okay?" He nods softly.

I kiss his head “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He answers quietly.

୨୧

hey, this is the end! i hope you have enjoyed it, if u saw any miss spelling or anything tell me in the comments, please.

also, i think it got kinda confusing cause i was using words on the past and in the present, but idk 😭😭

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sam and colby #christhopersturniolo

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katyusha454 · 5 months

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I think I've found the most tragic ship in BG3 and I need to rant about it

I've seen a decent number of people discuss and write about Dark Justiciar Shadowheart, but they always focus on what she's like post-game when she's fully committed to Shar. Which is a fine thing to focus on! Especially when you're writing smut where she's a mean domme. Post-game DJ Shadowheart is a fascinating character. But I feel like people neglect to consider what she's like during the transition phase of Act 3, where she's become Shar's Chosen but hasn't yet Done The Thing that caps off her personal questline. And there is SO MUCH potential for angst and drama during that time frame.

IMO the most important aspect of this stage of her development is that she is not evil yet. She simply made a single bad decision and now she feels like she's in too deep to do anything but double down on it. She's spent her whole life trying to "fake it 'till you make it" and she's only just now starting to transition out of that and into sincere belief. All the misgivings and insecurities she's shared with you are still there, just buried deeper. That desire to love others and do good hasn't yet been completely stamped out. In my Dark Justiciar Origin run, I try to do good things whenever possible as long as I can find a way to rationalize it as benefiting Shar. (but I still ended up saying enough evil-sounding things to make Minthara incredibly horny for me)

So where does Karlach fit in?

Well, turns out when you play as Origin Shadowheart, Shar doesn't make you break up with your partner. In fact, Shar says absolutely nothing to you about your romantic situation. This is really weird if you're romancing anyone other than Karlach, but I think it makes perfect sense for Shar to tolerate a relationship with Karlach for the time being. It's the ideal opportunity for Shar to prove a point. Karlach is dying, and no matter what Shadowheart does, this relationship is going to end in painful loss. Shar wants Shadowheart to fall in love with Karlach only to have that love abruptly ripped away from her. It perfectly demonstrates everything Shar believes about love: that it's fleeting and will always hurt you in the long run. Better to just avoid it entirely so you don't get hurt.

And Shadowheart knows all this. She's studied Sharran scripture extensively, after all. She knows that Shar is trying to teach her a lesson, she knows that the longer the relationship lasts and the more emotionally intimate it gets, the more the end is going to hurt. So why doesn't she break it off? Partly it's because she loves Karlach and doesn't want to end things; she's probably in denial at least a little bit. But I think it's also partly because she's a bit of a masochist. She thinks she deserves to suffer because she knows, at least subconsciously, that she's still not a very good Sharran. She can see the loss coming and she hopes the experience will bring her closer to Shar.

You'd think Karlach would be unwilling to put up with DJ Shadowheart's fanatical bullshit, but personally I think Karlach would stick it out for a whole mess of reasons. Number one, she can still see the good in Shadowheart and she refuses to give up on her partner. She's clinging tightly to the hope that Shadowheart can still be redeemed, even though she probably understands that it's a long shot at best.

Number two, she blames herself. When you play as Tav/Durge or another Origin, Shadowheart will have a conversation with you before deciding what to do in the Shadowfell. But if you play as Shadowheart, none of your companions says a word to you. In the context of this ship, I choose to interpret that as Karlach being too trusting. She's seen the good in Shadowheart, after all. She's so certain Shadowheart will do the right thing that she doesn't think she needs to speak up. It's not until too late that she realizes what Shadowheart needed was for someone to say "hey, are you sure about this?" So now she feels she needs to make up for that failure somehow by continuing to try and nudge Shadowheart in the right direction even though it seems impossible.

And number three, Karlach's just plain lonely. As fucked-up as this relationship is, she's still getting companionship and intimacy, and she doesn't think she has time to cultivate a new relationship if she breaks up with Shadowheart. She wants someone to be with her and hold her hand at the end, even if that someone is a brainwashed cultist.

In sum, both of them know that their relationship is extremely unhealthy; that it's hurting them now and will hurt them more in the future. But they both refuse to end it for their own reasons. And good gods, the ANGST. ARE YOU FEELING IT NOW, MISTER KRABS?

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 #shadowheart #karlach #shadowlach #dark justiciar shadowheart

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chimcess · 4 months

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Waterlog || pjm (4)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 11.8k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: ANGST, crying, mental health issues, talking about mental health, I'm so soft for them it's actually wild, best boyfriend Jimin, did I say angst????, past drug use, past alcohol addiction, past trauma talk, crying, anxiety, hand holding, touching as a love language, Jimin can't keep his hands to himself, he does try his best though, pining, sexual tension, banter, I love these two A/N: I know we're a couple of weeks late updating, but I've been very busy with moving so I haven't had the energy to write. I did a very quick edit, so this might not be perfect. I'm planning on coming back once I'm in my new place to do a full proofread. Hope you like the update!

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Hand clutching my phone, I sighed. All around me the airport buzzed with life. I had almost forgotten how hectic the Denver Airport was. A few feet away I saw a mother struggling to keep her children together while her husband scrolled on his phone. I must have made some sort of noise, subconsciously voicing my annoyance, because Jimin laughed.

“What’s going on, gran?” He teased, voice light. “See a couple of youngins on your lawn?”

I scoffed, tearing my eyes away from the family. “Just a shitty husband ignoring his children.”

He hissed, sucking in air through his teeth, “The worst kind of dude. Are you alright?”

Softening, I finally spotted my luggage on the conveyor belt. Twisting my torso, I did a light stretch and then quickly snatched the heavy bag up. “Not too anxious, right?”

He had been very worried about letting me come home for a visit. When I had originally brought it up he offered himself up for the job, but I was not a fan of that idea. My friends would definitely bring up our date and I did not want to deal with the awkwardness that would cause. Especially since we had yet to go on it. That would not matter to Hoseok, however, and the teasing would have been endless. Better to spare Jimin from their wrath for just a little while longer.

“I’m cool,” I replied, softening. “Just got my stuff from baggage claim. I’m going to let you go so I can call Andy.”

“Okay bug. See you in a few days.”

Harper had recently started calling me that, forgetting my real name and not caring enough to ask for it. Eloise had tried to scold her for it, but I told her I did not mind it. It caught on with Cameron not too long after that, and soon the entire Park family had started using the little nickname. Jimin thought it was adorable from the beginning but had only started using it after our talk the other night.

I laughed, “I’m going to call you tonight.”

“Aw,” I knew he had that stupid smile on his face. “Miss me that much?”

“Someone needs to make sure you’re staying out of trouble,” I replied, a confident pep in my step I had not had in years. “But yes, I do miss you.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“I miss you too.”

I could feel my heart melting. I was still getting used to our new dynamic. On most days we were strictly business, and were able to set aside the very large, very apparent elephant in the room. It was not until we had finished with work that those roles dropped, and we were able to just be us.

Ever since my confession in the car Jimin spoke a hell of a lot more. Apparently, he had a hard time keeping his feelings to himself and chose to talk a little less in order to avoid a slip up. He wanted to give us both a little bit of time to get to know one another before springing his crush on me.

“Going soft, kid?” Playing things off with humor was Jimin’s thing, but it had slowly started to rub off on me. “It’s only two days.”

“I know,” He pouted. “Call your friend. It’s cold and you’ll get sick.”

“Hey,” I cut the teasing tone I had, “You’re not upset I came here by myself, right?”

“No,” He chuckled with an unmistakable fondness. “I’m just messin’ with you. I’m not ready to meet your friends and you need some alone time. We’re good, I promise.”

I sighed in relief, “Okay. Good. I’m going to go now. Talk to you later?”

“Call me when you can,” He replied, voice light.

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye, bug.”

I was disappointed to hear the line go dead but knew I could aimlessly walk around this airport all day if given the chance, so long as he was there with me. Trying to get my thoughts back on track, I sent a text to Andy asking if she was here yet. If not, I was already making plans to call Jimin back.

Andy: I’m parked in 5 near C Gates

Andy: Be careful

Andy: Saw a lady almost get hit by a car just now

Me: See you in a sec

Me: Should I be worried?

I knew she was trying to make a joke, but car accident punchlines never went over all that well with me. Even if I knew the chances of that happening to me were almost zero, I really did not want to have a panic attack in the airport parking lot.

Andy: Not at all. I’m so sorry for even saying anything. I can come meet you at the doors if you want.

Deep breath. In. Out. In. Out. Deep breath. In. Out. In. Out. Sigh of relief. I was fine.

Me: I appreciate you

Me: Is babygirl here?

Dani would help the spike of anxiety dissipate. The girl was fearless and was sure to be distracting enough to keep me from paying attention to the oncoming traffic. I suddenly wished that Jimin was here. He always knew what to do.

Andy: Jin and I are weak

Andy: We let her play hooky

Bobbing and weaving through bodies, I tossed my phone into my purse and made my way out of the airport. The arrivals station was packed, and I would need to take the automated train to where Andrea was parked. It was my least favorite part about this airport, but it beat Dallas-Fort Worth by a landslide. I had gotten lost in that airport more times than I could count.

Three minutes later I was getting out of the train and stepping into C Gates. I could smell Auntie Anne’s and felt my mouth begin to water. Checking my clock, I decided it would not hurt to make a quick spot for lunch. Andy would appreciate it and I knew Dani loved their pretzel dog.

There was a little less traffic in C Gates. More of the expensive airlines let out here, and all you could see were business professionals pacing back and forth. A family on vacation bumped into me while I was waiting in line, and I almost gave up my spot when their toddler started screaming.

“No, no,” His mother insisted, her hair a mess on the top of her head. “Between the girls and my mom, we’ll be here all day. Go ahead, sweetie.”

Two little girls danced around me as we waited, the line moving at a snail's pace due to the airport being understaffed. They asked me questions incessantly, and while their mother had tried her best to keep them in line, I told her I was fine with the extra attention. I loved kids and the girls were harmless. The boy in her arms kept repeating “pizza” and soon an elderly woman joined them.

If the girls talked a lot, they had nothing on grandma. Not only did she never shut her mouth, she was loud and obnoxiously laughing every few seconds. The boy was quick to beg to be in her arms and mom got a break. She was back to attempting to corral the girls, but again they did not really listen.

“They’re only like this when my mom’s around,” She sighed, frustrated and tired. “We’re meeting up with their father and they’re all a little restless.”

“It’s no bother,” I lied. The girls really were not that bad. Just a couple of four-year-olds having fun. The only person who was really getting on my nerves was her mother, but I was not about to say that. “Better to get it out now than in the car, right?”

She cracked a tired smile, “Right.”

Finally, it was my turn to order. The young girl behind the counter gave me an award-winning smile while another young blonde was in the back getting all of the orders out.

“Hi, welcome to Auntie Anne’s. How can I help you today?”

“Can I get one original pretzel, one cinnamon sugar pretzel, and a pretzel dog combo with a lemonade and cheese,” Glancing behind me, I sighed. “Throw in a pizza pretzel, two orders of pretzel nuggets, and whatever else the family behind me wants.”

She smiled, blue eyes twinkling prettily in the bright lights. Turning around I waved the mother over and told her to get something for her and her mother. She put up a small fight, but eventually gave in when she realized I had already put our orders together.

“Thank you so much,” I thought she might burst into tears when my card was approved. “You really didn’t need to do that.”

I shrugged, “It was nothing. Have a nice vacation.”

Walking to the pickup area, my order was already waiting for me. With nothing more than a simple wave, I left the dysfunctional family behind. The grandmother’s loud thank you seemed to echo off of the airport walls, but it was a little less grating now that I knew I would never hear it again.

Andy threw herself at me when I finally made it outside, little Dani wrapping her arms around my legs with squeals of delight louder than her mother’s. Taking her pretzel, Andy gave me a fat, wet kiss on the cheek and told Dani she could eat in the car.

“How’s gymnastics, girlie?” I asked the little girl once we were in the car. “Still kicking ass?”

“No,” She laughed. “I quit, like, forever ago. Appa put me in ballet classes.”

I gave Andy a look. The red head rolled her eyes, fixing me with a knowing look. I had been telling Jin to put her in dance for years.

“It’s been two weeks and she’s already trying to talk him into figure skating.”

“You’re a little hustler, huh?” I reached into the back, squeezing her knee. Dani giggled, angling her body away from mine. She was very ticklish. “Keep at it. You know your dad’s a sucker.”

Dani laughed, “My vovó says the same thing.”

We listened to Olivia Rodrigo on our way to the Kim house. Hoseok and Matilda had planned a huge coming back party for me, and from what it sounded like, I was going to meet Tilly’s new boyfriend.

“Anything I need to know about Max?” I asked.

Andy was almost as in the dark about the guy as I was but was able to tell me he was a tattoo artist from California. The two of them met at Frank’s bookstore and by the end of their conversation Max had managed to get her out to dinner and in his bed. It was a whirlwind romance, one that made me feel uneasy about its foundation, but I was still obligated to be happy for my friend. They could be soulmates for all I knew, and I was not about to judge anybody else for their version of a first date.

“I don’t want to talk about tattoo guy anymore,” Andy whined playfully, turning up the radio when “Good 4 U” came on. “I need to know more about your little boyfriend.”

I groaned, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

This was why I was so adamant Jimin stayed away. We had yet to have a real talk about what we were, choosing to wait for our first date to iron out those details, but no one in my circle seemed to understand. All they heard was the word date and suddenly wedding bells started going off.

“Stop deflecting. We both know he’s your boyfriend, official or not,” She laughed, stealing looks at her daughter in the rearview. “What’s he like?”

It was a hard question to answer. On the one hand, I felt like I knew him better than anybody else, but I was self aware enough to know I didn’t. His body language, the way he looked when he beat his best time, and all of his preferred gear were seared into my mind. The movies he liked, his favorite albums, and all of the best tv shows ever made. He went to college. He was the sweetest, kindest, most understanding person I had ever met, and yet… he still felt far away. The shadows that oftentimes clouded his vision were still a mystery to me, and when he came into practice with a lost look on his face, I felt helpless. I knew him and yet I didn’t.

“He’s quiet,” I finally landed on. “Very nice. Always willing to help other people out if he can. You’d like him.”

Andrea scoffed, “That’s it? The first guy you’ve dated in years and all you can tell me is I’d like him?”

“We’re still getting to know each other,” I sighed. “What do you want to know?”

We spent the rest of the car ride going over the last two months' worth of pining. I told her about Fiona, Jimin’s family, and all of my new friends. She almost pissed herself laughing when I told her about the night he asked me out, making so many Hoseok and Tilly jokes I had a difficult time focusing on the story. Andrea seemed to be finished with her interrogation when we pulled up at her house.

Dani ran to the front door, her excitement about the party making any discomfort I had disappear. It was hard to feel uncomfortable with her around. Taking my hand in hers, the little girl shifted her weight from foot to foot, shouting at her mom to hurry up, and opening the front door anyway. Andy told her to calm down, and I just chuckled and went along with it.

The living room was filled with all of my favorite people, a large ‘welcome home’ sign hanging on the large, backwall. Underneath it was a huge table covered in food, a cake in the middle of it, and I had a feeling Sarah made it. Both her and Frank were the first people to notice me, their faces lighting up, and I let go of Dani’s hand in favor of embracing the elderly couple. The rest of the party comers erupted their voices loud and filled with love as they took turns passing me around.

“Missed you, Otter,” Hoseok murmured in the crook of my neck, hands secured around my waist.

“Missed you more,” I replied, releasing him and catching Tilly. “Jeez, girl. Trying to kill me?”

“Come meet Max,” She replied, dragging me away from Hoseok.

Max was a tall, lanky guy with black hair that fell down his back. His clothes were on the baggier side, all black, and I recognized the band on his t-shirt from the shit Matilda liked to listen to in the car. He smiled at me, and I was surprised to see him rocking adult braces. He introduced himself, his voice deep and warm, and shook my hand. They were baby soft and covered in tattoos.

“It’s great to see you,” I replied, genuinely meaning it. If I had to picture a guy more perfect for Tilly, I would come up empty handed. “Thanks for coming.”

He flushed, impossibly pale skin turning a bright shade of red reminding me of Jimin.

“Anything for Mattie,” He replied.

Huh, he had his own nickname for her and everything. I would need to hang out with Max more before I could say if I liked him or not, but so far, I had a good feeling. Andrea’s worries seemed a bit silly now. They really liked each other, and Tilly’s heartbreaking, dimpled smile made me feel more confident in her partner. They would be just fine.

The party was fun, and I ate more spinach and artichoke dip than was healthy. Hoseok and I talked about my afterschool visit tomorrow. The boys had a swim meet Saturday and the two of us were hoping we could tag team in order to iron out any issues they had been having. I was being placed in charge of the freshmen while Hoseok made sure the other kids were feeling confident and ready for the meet.

"Let's party!" Frank boomed, lifting a beer into the air.

I laughed, "Be careful, old timer. Don't want you to hurt yourself."

I thought of Jimin again. That sounded like something he would say. Surrounded by the people I loved, I laughed hard and partied harder. The plates of food came one right after the other, and I was happy that I still had a place here. Falling back into my step, I fit seamlessly back into the fold.

"Dance with me," Hoseok demanded, tipsy and red-faced.

"It's your toes," I replied, taking his head and letting him take the lead.

The other couples were already dancing and hooped and hollered as I awkwardly followed the steps. I was not always a bad dancer but lost some of my rhythm in the accident. Hoseok never minded and let me step on his feet without a single complaint.

"You look happy," He commented, spinning me around.

I smiled, "I am."

He smiled back, wincing when I stomped down on his toes again. I apologized, but he just held my hand a little tighter and kept moving. I hummed along to the song, filled with joy. He spun me again, and finally let me go when I slammed into Jin.

"Go get some cake or something," He laughed. "You're too dangerous to be out here."

I rolled my eyes, "I tried to tell you. It's your fault you don't listen."

"Don't need you anyway. I have enough swag for the both of us."

I watched, thoroughly amused from the sidelines, as he moon-walked around the living room.

I left just before midnight after staying behind to help Andy and Jin clean up. The others left a few hours before to get back to Denver at a decent time. My house looked the same as always, dark and empty, but I could tell the landscapers had been around. The grass was recently cut and edged.

The silence inside was deafening. I had always known my place was too big for one person, but after spending so much time in my little she-shed at the Andersons’ house, everything here just felt excessive. Tossing my keys in the bowl beside the door, I wiped my eyes and decided to just head to bed. I would only be here for three days. I would be back in Saline before I knew it.

Dragging my body upstairs, this sudden depression-filled fatigue made my shoulders feel ten times heavier. A chilling, almost insidious, hollowness began to spread across my body. I knew this feeling all too well and it made me feel pathetic. Could I not be on my own anymore? Had I really grown that attached to my life in Michigan? Finally getting into my bedroom, I realized that I had.

Saline was perfect. Living in Colorado Springs has always bothered me. The people here held more traditional values and making friends was difficult. I had Andy and Jin, but they were both very busy people. Andrea was a full-time nurse, Jin’s schedule was somehow even more erratic than his wife’s, and when they were off, they wanted to spend time with Dani. I was lucky if I saw them once every two weeks.

Hoseok, Tilly, and Minho all lived in Denver, and while I saw them more often due to the meetings with Frank and Sarah dragging me into the city, it was not like we hung out every time I was out there. Days would go by with me speaking at all, and most of my weekends were spent in bed sleeping. Working at the school helped, but I would never claim anyone from the swim team to be a friend. I was not in the habit of befriending children.

Living in Saline was different. Jimin was always there to make me laugh, and when he wasn’t, I had people like Taehyung and Sam to keep me company. Giselle was young, but we got along so well I often forgot about the difference in age between the two of us. Megan and Yoongi were Michigan’s own version of Andy and Jin, and I could see myself becoming good friends with them given enough time. No one had kids, no one was too busy trying to keep up with crazy expenses, and I could find a little house away from the rest of the world to spend my life in.

I thought of the Parks, a family who I had come to love more than I thought was possible, and the Andersons who took me in and always tried to make me feel comfortable. Eloise and her kindness. Luna and Cameron. All of them. I loved and adored every single one of them, and it was then that I finally let myself really think about what I wanted.

Did I want to come back here after I was finished with the season? Did I really want this massive house if it meant I had no one to share it with? No, I decided. Stripping out of my clothes, the numbness was being replaced with a different strange feeling. It felt suspiciously like hope. Excitement came to me so rarely it was foreign and odd, but nice all the same. Jittery, I took my phone out of my pants pocket.

“Hello?” Jimin’s voice was scratchy when he finally picked up.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “Did I wake you up?”

“Yes, but it’s okay,” I could hear him shuffling around in his bed. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah,” I breathed, climbing into bed. Then, without thinking, I blurted, “I think I want to move to Michigan.”

I held my breath as I waited for his response. There was no telling how this conversation would go, but I was hopeful. Even if this whole date thing did not go very well, I was positive that we would be able to move past it with a little bit of time. We worked well together and if he was comfortable with it then we could continue working together. Regardless, there was always coaching at a school.

“Like, permanently?”

I nodded but after a moment of silence remembered he could not see me.

“Yeah.”

My stomach started to churn. As the silence on the other end began to stretch, the excitement I felt before faded. Even if I said Jimin and I could get past a potentially awkward break up of sorts, I would not pretend that the thought did not make me physically ill. We would never be the same if that happened. It would be something to think about if it came to pass before the Olympics was over.

“Did something happen?” He finally asked, and I could hear the genuine worry in his tone. “Are you okay?”

The fear shifted to hurt, irritation, and anger, making my eyebrows knit together.

“I’m fine,” I could not keep the bite from my voice. It was petty and wrong of me, but his insinuation that I was not in my right mind was insulting. It made me feel like a child. “Just- forget I said anything. I don’t know what I’m even talking about.”

“Don’t do that,” His steady calmness made me even angrier. “I’m only asking you because it came out of the blue, not because I’m not happy with the idea.”

Now I just felt silly. Here I was making these small revelations, waking him up from his sleep, and then getting snippy because he did not respond the way I had wanted him to. Ugh, I wasn’t even his girlfriend yet and I’m acting like Darcy. A shiver went down my spine. That was an insult above all others.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, the attitude from a few seconds before gone as quickly as it came. “I got defensive for no reason. Sorry.”

He chuckled, the sound barely audible over the phone.

“I forgive you. Now, why do you want to pack your life up for good?”

That made me laugh. It was a sad, pitiful sound. One that did not hold my usual spunk. One I don’t think Jimin had ever heard before. It was impossible to feel sad when he was around.

“I forgot how quiet my house is,” I admitted softly. “I love my friends, but I think coming back just reminded me of how easily I was able to fall back into the routine of it all. Jin and Andy are parents, Tilly has a new boyfriend, and Hoseok and Minho are always so busy with their own lives that I don’t see any of them as often as I would like to.”

Turning on my side, I blinked back a few tears.

“It might sound stupid, but I really do love Saline. I like how busy I am and all of my friends. I bought this place with the hopes of kids and a dog one day, but I don’t think that’ll ever happen, and now it’s just rooms collecting dust. I just-” I let a tear fall, my emotions starting to bubble over. “I don’t like how lonely it feels out here.”

“Doesn’t sound like you like it there. Have you always felt like this?” He asked.

I shook my head, the tears free falling in between sniffles and shaky breaths.

“Not always. Ever since Namjoon died things have been weird. There was a point when I felt suffocated because no one would leave me alone, and then one day everything resumed, and I just got left behind. It was like I woke up and two years just passed me by.”

Jimin comforted me while I cried, telling me how much he hated to hear me so upset, while I worked on calming down. There had been a time in my life when I was not so emotional, but therapy had opened up a whole new side of myself I didn't know existed. Rubbing my face, I sniffled and sank deeper into my mattress. For now, the waterworks had stopped.

“You were recovering,” He soothed. “Your body needed time to heal, and you were traumatized. I don’t think anyone can blame you for zoning out for a bit.”

I hummed, “I know. Doesn’t make it easier to swallow.”

“I know how you feel. When I pulled out of the Olympics last time there was a part of me that felt like a huge failure, but my dad was there to help get my head back on straight. He doesn’t seem like it, but he’s a really great shoulder to cry on.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” My voice was like sandpaper. “James is the sweetest person I’ve ever met.”

I felt heavy. Worn. Used. My eyes begged for me to shut them, but we were just getting back into safer waters, and I didn’t want to burst the bubble. I yawned, covering my mouth and hoping Jimin could not hear the sound. He had gone quiet.

“Can I ask you something?” Jimin’s voice broke through the comfortable silence that had formed around us. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“Shoot,” I forced myself to smile.

“What happened to Namjoon?”

I closed my eyes. This was something I knew would come up sooner or later. My lip wobbled uncontrollably as the second wave of tears crashed over me. I hated talking about this, but I knew it was going to come up sooner or later. Jimin deserved the truth, and honestly, I wanted to tell him. Being vulnerable with someone felt good. Being vulnerable with Jimin was divine. He was always so ready and willing to go along with things, listening and watching my every move, and trying his best to understand me. It was refreshing. It was nice. It was familiar.

“Was he in the accident with you?” He asked and his voice was so, so gentle.

“Yeah,” I croaked, finally finding my voice. “I went out with some of my friends and got pretty drunk. I was tired and ready to go home, but my ride didn’t want to go home yet. So, I called Joon.”

I sucked in a deep, loud breath. Jimin told me I could stop, that I didn’t owe him anything, but I ignored him. This wasn’t about owing him. This was about letting the guy I liked get to know me. This story was a part of who I was, as fucked up as that may sound, and I wanted him to get to know this facet of my life as deeply as he knew the present day one.

“Anyway,” I continued. “He offered to come and pick me up. Twenty minutes later I’m getting into his car and we’re on our way home. We’d just gotten engaged and bought our first house together- things were perfect. I had never been happier.

“We ended up taking the long way home because of an accident on the interstate. It was my idea, and Namjoon had a knack for going along with whatever I wanted. We were only two minutes away from the house when we got hit.”

I took a few deep breaths and wiped my face. Jimin was quiet on the other end. After a minute or two, I jumped back into the story.

“There was a four-way intersection around the corner from our place. Our light was green when we drove up. I don't think he thought to check if there was another car coming. He never even saw the truck. He, uh, died on impact.”

“Jesus,” Jimin breathed.

“The other guy was drunk as hell behind the wheel. Not paying attention. Funny thing is, he was the only person who didn’t get critically injured. Just a broken arm and a concussion. He wrapped our car around a light pole. My leg was pinned between the car and the light, and the airbag is what caused the brain injury.”

Jimin cursed under his breath, “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry that happened to you.”

“Yeah,” I gritted out. “Me too.”

He let me cry for a little while, saying over and over again how sorry he was and how he wished he was in Colorado with me. I did not have anything to say to him. It felt like my chest had been ripped open and my heart was on full display.

I never questioned how quickly we went from barely talking, to joking around, to sitting up late at night on the phone talking about life. It just happened. Clutching my phone in my hand, I let out a deep breath and held back any more tears from falling. I never said it, but I wished he was here, too.

“Hey,” His voice was gentle when he spoke, so fragile and sweet, that I had to force down the sobs threatening to come out. “I just want to say I’m sorry for how I reacted earlier. You wanting to move here is probably the best thing I’ve heard all fucking year, but I just didn’t want to sway your decision.”

Sniffling, I tried to tell him I wasn’t upset, but he shut me down almost immediately.

“Let me finish,” His voice did not leave room for argument. “I know I don’t act like I’m insecure, but I am. I can be selfish and self-centered, and I’ve always had to really work on those parts of myself.”

“I don’t understand what that has to do with anything,” I mumbled, curling into a ball beneath my blankets.

“Like I said, I can be a very selfish person,” He sighed. “There was this part of my brain just wanting to hear you say you were coming here and staying with me for forever. I didn’t want that to take over the narrative. And- no offense, but if you did move all the way out here just to date me, I think I’d be a little creeped out honestly.”

I snorted. Hearing that he felt the need to explain any of that to me felt like a small win, even if it did make an alarm go off in my head. It took courage to be that open and honest with another person, especially someone who just cried their eyes out. His compassion and understanding never failed to amaze me, and I was grateful he trusted me enough to let me into his mind for once. Still, it did not make the creep comment any less funny.

“Don’t laugh,” He whined, unable to stop himself from chuckling. “I’m being serious.”

“So do you want me to be a creepy stalker or not?” I joked, hoping to lighten up the mood. “Make up your mind, kid.”

“I think I just want you to be yourself,” I melted. “That’s been working out just fine so far. I mean, if you are a creepy stalker, you managed to get me to like you.”

“Mission accomplished,” I breathed, still reeling from his sweet words. “You better watch out, 007. There’s a new spy in town.”

“So, I’m Bond and you’re Joe Goldburg?”

“Exactly,” My cheeks hurt from how much I was smiling. “Penn Badgley would be a decent James Bond. He was really great in Margin Call.”

I bit my lip, trying to suppress my smile.

“Holy shit, you actually watched it?”

Margin Call was one of Jimin's favorite movies from 2011. He kept a very large notebook filled with all of the movies he’s ever seen, along with ratings, and if he should ever watch them again. He went through it one day and came across the action film, rewatched it, and then spent most of the day talking my ear off about how great it is.

“Someone I know was very passionate about it, and it managed to pique my curiosity.”

Jimin sighed, but I could not tell what emotion was behind it. Definitely was not anger or frustration. Not sadness either.

“What time are you getting back on Sunday?” He asked, and I could definitely hear the affectionate tone his voice had taken on.

“Um,” I thought about it for a moment. “Six, I think.”

“PM?”

“Yeah,” I curled up under my blankets. It was beginning to get really cold inside, but I did not want to get up to turn the heat on. “I have to double check my flight times, but I know it’s somewhere around there. Why? What’s up?”

“I know we already made plans for next week, but I was thinking I could pick you up from the airport and we could go out.”

My face grew hot, “I don’t think I’ll be dressed for a date.”

“You always look great,” He assured me.

I laughed, nervous and embarrassed, “Thanks.”

We had originally planned our first date to be the weekend after I got back. Jimin was adamant about giving me an experience, and I had been more than happy to indulge him a little. He was just so cute when he got excited. We were running on a limited timeline right now, though, since he had an upcoming swimming fundraiser with Swim Across America in Allendale. The team was raising money for cancer research, and I was very excited to be there to show my support.

Moving the date up meant we would have less to do next weekend, unless Jimin still wanted to keep our plans in place, but it meant we could focus on the fundraiser instead of trying to juggle a date at the same time.

“I hate to go, but I’m really tired,” Jimin yawned. Pulling my phone away from my ear I was startled by how late it was. “I’ll text you in the morning, okay?”

I apologized for keeping him up so late. “Promise I won’t do it again.”

He hummed, already beginning to fall asleep, “Don’t mind. You’re always welcome to bother me in the middle of the night.”

“Night Jimin,” I whispered, blood pumping.

“Night bug.”

There was one thing I missed about Colorado- how quickly the snow melted. Michigan was seeing more snow as each day went by, but here in the mountains they would not start seeing the worst of it until the spring. For the first time in a month, I was able to forgo my large, puffy jacket in favor of a long sleeve and jeans. Jimin found my excitement over this endearing, sending a slew of heart-eye emojis in response to the mirror photo I sent him.

It was almost the end of the day when I pulled into the high school parking lot. The entire front office erupted in excitement when I walked through the front doors, hugs and well wishes overwhelming me. Sandra, the receptionist, could have talked all day if I let her, and after signing in, I politely told them all I needed to meet up with Coach Jung. I lied about stopping by on my way out and only felt a little bad about it. They were way too much for me.

“They’re going to be so excited to see you,” Hoseok mumbled, a smile stretching across his face as loud teenage boys got closer and closer to the pool house.

“I’m happy to see them, too,” I replied. “Should we wait until they change to make the grand reveal?”

He shook his head. “Would you rather hug now or when they’re in speedos.”

I shivered, disgusted by the mental image.

“Thanks for putting that in my head, you sick fuck.”

Choking on his spit, Hoseok bent over, laughing so hard he started to screech. His laughter reminded me of a ghost's wail and was contagious. We were both so wrapped up in our little bubble we did not notice the doors opening.

“Coach?”

Wiping my cheeks, I caught my breath and made eye contact with Jordan. Baby blue eyes widened while a large, dimple smile overtook his face. Behind him, Gabriel announced that I was here, and the room was filled with excitement. I was not much of a hugger, but I was happy to greet each boy with one. Gabriel hadn’t stopped speaking since catching sight of me and had a few accidental slip ups about how much he disliked Coach Jung.

Hoseok had alluded to that being their main issue right now. The boys were having a hard time adjusting to a new face and missed me dearly. To his credit, Hoseok admitted that he was still getting used to the coaching thing and made a couple mistakes his first few days here. He had made it a point to apologize to them for being a dick, but the teens hadn’t forgotten or forgiven him for his snappy attitude. Especially the two oldest.

“When are you coming back?” Marcus asked.

I smiled sadly, “I’ll be out for the rest of the year.” The tall boy deflated, sending a nasty look Hoseok’s way. “But,” I was quick to fix my mistake, “I’m planning on making trips to assist Coach Jung throughout the year. I wanted to be here for your last meet, but something came up.”

That something had been Jimin’s birthday, and I was not going to risk missing his party.

Regardless, Marcus and the team were very happy to hear they would be seeing me.

“I promise I’ll be here for graduation, too,” I added.

Gabriel offered to give me one of his tickets and I gratefully accepted the extended offer. We stood there and talked for at least fifteen minutes before I finally told them to get changed and into the water. Without protest, all twelve of them went to the locker room.

“You know,” Hoseok chuckled. “You're going to have to teach me how you manage to do that.”

“Cinnamon buns from Mountain Shadows,” I put on my whistle and grabbed my clipboard from my duffel bag. “They’ll be eating out of your hand in no time.”

The team was glowing. Jordan stood in the middle of the boys, a large smile on his face, as he praised them for giving the meet their best effort. Having another win under their belt, all of them were buzzing with excitement at a chance at nationals. They only needed to win three more competitions to qualify.

For the first time since I arrived, the icy contempt they held for Hoseok seemed to thaw. It brought a smile to my face. If I did not come back next year, I had a feeling the boys would be getting along much better.

“What’s for dinner?” Marcus asked, looking at me for an answer.

“Coach said something about burgers,” I replied, gesturing towards Hoseok. “You should ask him though. I could be wrong.”

Gabriel chimed in, “Yeah, we’re going to Bingo.”

My mouth watered. Bingo Burger was one of the best spots in town. Their fries were hot and crispy, and I loved their shakes. Mulling over my options for dinner, I always found myself stuck between the Gone Shroomin’ Burger and the Happy Hippie. For a vegan burger, that thing was really fucking good. Then again, a thick, juicy beef patty smothered in bacon, cheese, and mushrooms would hit the spot. Indecisive and bored, I fiddled around with my phone and somehow ended up texting Jimin.

Me: Gone Shroomin’ or Happy Hippie?

The noise on the bus was just in the background now and easy to tune out. Hoseok was laughing loudly with the freshmen while the two seniors were in a quiet conversation in the seat in front of me. Marcus and his girlfriend broke up recently. I stopped paying attention once my phone vibrated.

Jimin: No idea what that means

Jimin: Gone Shroomin I guess

I bit my lip, suppressing a smile.

Me: We’re going for celebration burgers

Me: The boys won and Hobi is treating them since we’re out in Pueblo and not getting back to the Springs until after dinner.

Jimin: Speaking of food… I was thinking we could get some BBQ on Sunday

“Y/N!” Hoseok called, making me look up from my phone. “Tell your boyfriend you’ll call him later.”

“We need you to be the tiebreaker,” Twig chirped.

“What for?” I sighed, glancing down at my screen.

Jimin: Have you been to Union Rec yet? It’s BBQ and a taqueria

Me: No but I’m always down for a burrito

“Do mermaids have gills?” Twig asked.

Fully pulled out of my phone, I flipped it around and gave the boys my undivided attention.

“Of course not. They’re mammals, so it would be a blowhole.”

Hoseok clapped his hands, “Thank you! That’s exactly what I said.”

Sliding further down in the booth, I closed my eyes and drowned them out again. Colorado’s air was so dry and crisp I was having to get used to the altitude change. I missed how wet and cold Michigan was. Smiling to myself, I remembered how much I hated it when I first landed. So much has changed…

Shuffling, I made myself more comfortable. We were only thirty minutes out from the Springs now, and we would be at Bingos right on time for Hoseok’s reservations. Feeling myself growing tired, I sunk even further into the booth. Eyes heavy, I let them slip closed, and slept for the rest of the bus ride.

Standing in front of my bathroom mirror, I smoothed down my skirt for the millionth time. The gray sweater I had thrown on seemed too casual now that I was looking at myself, but I did not know what else to do. It was a laundry day, but when I went to put my clothes in the dryer it refused to turn on. Violet said they needed a new one anyway, but that did little to improve my mood. The pretty red dress I wanted to wear was soaking wet and hanging from the shower rod to dry. I played with the skin on my lip, willing the black and gray outfit to somehow look nicer. On the other side of the phone, Andy sighed.

“You look fine,” She insisted, running her hand through her auburn hair. “Do a cute hairstyle and put on a nice pair of earrings, and you’ll be golden.”

“You don’t think it’s too plain?” I had asked her this five times now, and each time I got that same reply. “I mean, do I look like I’m going to a funeral?”

“The guy has seen you in sweats and no makeup and still wanted to take you out. Do you honestly think he cares about the color of your outfit?”

She had a point. Finally deciding to cave in and give up on my obsession, I took her advice to do something with my hair. A few of the strands were beginning to look silver, and my sideburns were looking paler every day, but after Hoseok told me he was starting to see a few grays, I decided to leave them be. If we were both going to be silver foxes, I liked the idea of doing it together.

“Are you wearing heels?”

“No,” I shook my head. I picked my phone up and went to my bedroom to find a pair of earrings. “It’s too icy. Silver or gold?”

She thought about it for a second, her face scrunched up cutely.

“Silver.”

I landed on some thick, gun-metal hoops. They matched the color of the sweater perfectly and did not take away from my face too much. I had spent too much time on looking this nice to have an accessory dominate. Andy was happy with my choice.

I had gotten back a little earlier than I originally thought I would, and asked Jimin if it was okay that I meant him at the restaurant out here instead of making him drive all the way to Detroit to pick me up. He had put up a bit of a fight about it but relented when I said I was hoping we could hang out at his house after dinner. I said I wanted to get myself home, but I was really trying to see how bad the drive was from his place to mine. The thought of spending more time in his space made me feel like a teenage girl.

“How’s ballet going?” I slipped on a pair of black tights. It was freezing outside, and I wanted to have as many layers on as possible. “Has Dani made any progress in getting her figure skating career started?”

Andrea laughed but said that her daughter was getting closer to her goal every day. Jin was weak and did anything the little girl wanted if he could. This was the only issue they were both bull-headed about. Jin wanted to teach her to be responsible and follow through on things, and Dani was tired of preparing for figure skating. She wanted to be on the ice and her dad was afraid of pushing her too far too young. I was most definitely a team Dani instigator, and it was a point of contention between Seokjin and I.

“What did you think of Max?”

I smiled. That boy was definitely a character. The gang and I had a nice dinner before I left Colorado, and Tilly brought along Mr. Tattoo guy. He was quiet and when he did talk, he always had something completely random and out of the blue to say. He fascinated me and when everyone started huddling in their own groups to chat, I turned most of my attention to the new guy.

He was a sweetheart, and it was a nice change of pace getting to know him. He hated being called Peter (his first name), went to college for nuclear engineering, and became a tattoo artist on a whim. A buddy of his wanted a new piece, paid Max to draw it, and trusted the guy with a tattoo gun. He was an apprentice in San Francisco for three years before moving to Denver to open up his own shop. For all of his eccentricity, he was very successful and down to Earth.

“He’s good for her,” I finally replied, zipping up my Doc Martens, I checked the time. I would have to leave soon. “I’m just happy there’s no drama between her and Hobi.”

It had been a year since they officially broke up, but I knew they fell into bed with one another a handful of times since then. Hoseok and I had talked about their weird relationship on one too many drunken nights, the swimmer the only person able I liked enough to force a glass of whiskey down. Tilly knew that I knew and would vent to me sometimes. They loved each other, knew one another better than anybody else, and it was easy to fall back into each other since we were in the same circle.

I doubted Andy knew anything about that, we tried our best to keep her out of the loop, but she always said that they still had lingering feelings. I hoped Hoseok was handling this news well. He seemed fine, happy even, so I just rolled with it. If he had a problem, I was sure I would have heard about it by now.

“Speaking of Hoseok,” The humorous tone in Andy’s voice caught my full attention. “Apparently, Jin saw him at The Rabbit Hole with some blonde girl before you got into town. He just remembered to tell me last night.”

This was news to me. Wracking my brain, I tried to figure out if he had brought up a date, or even a person he might be interested in, but nothing came up. Shrugging, I let it go. It was probably just some girl he picked up at the bar. Still, that would be an expensive date.

“He hasn’t told me anything about that,” I murmured.

“Might be why he’s not bothered by new boyfriend.”

I laughed, “Or it could be that they’ve moved on.”

“Oh, please,” She pulled a face, eyes rolling to the back of her head. “We all know that’s not true. At least, not until recently.”

“Regardless,” I sighed, grabbing my purse and walking out of the front door. “It’s none of our business. If they’re happy that’s all that matters.”

Andy raspberried, “Boo. I hate it when you’re all mature and adult-like.”

“And right,” I joked. “Don’t forget about that part.”

Locking up my little house, I made my way through the Anderson’s. Violet was watching the Golden Girls on the couch while Calvin was reading a book beside her. It was a sweet scene that made me smile. I wanted what they had.

I gave them a smile and wave as I passed by. Violet returned it in full, her eyes kind and gentle, before going back to her show. Calvin put his book down and asked what time I was planning on coming back. He wanted to keep an eye out for my car.

“Around midnight,” I replied, moving my phone away from my mouth. Andrea was rambling about the new doctor on staff. I trusted her disdain enough to know he was a huge dick. “See you two tomorrow.”

“Be safe out there,” He replied, going back to his copy of The Catcher and the Rye.

Andy and I were on the phone for the entire car ride into Ann Arbor. I enjoyed hearing her voice, the small distraction welcome when I felt my anxiety spike. Thankfully it was a Sunday night, and the streets were somewhat empty.

Once I got into the downtown area, I drowned out her voice completely. Andrea never minded. She just kept talking like I hadn’t stepped out of whatever conversation we were just having. Never got mad when I kept asking her to repeat herself either. She was a wonderful friend to me, and I was grateful to have her in my life. If I moved to Saline, she would be the person I missed the most.

I still hadn’t talked to anyone else about the possibility of moving. I was not sure how they would react, and I needed to have my mind made up before giving any of them the news. While I knew Andy and Jin would be supportive, and Tilly and Minho wouldn’t really care all that much (it just gave them an excuse to vacation in Michigan), it was Hoseok I was most on the fence about.

With him it could go either way. He would either be really happy and supportive or call me crazy. It came from a place of love, and I respected his opinion more than any of the others, so I had to be completely sure of myself before getting into something like that with him. If he thought for a second I was rushing into things he would go into overprotective, big brother mode and kill all of my excitement. He might even be able to change my mind if he fought hard enough.

Pulling up to the restaurant, I was impressed by the sheer size of it. One half looked like an old warehouse while the other half was a small, white bricked building. A red neon sign glowed in the night and a large party was hanging out outside of the building. I could see Jimin in their little group and smiled. He was a very popular man in this area and was able to make new friends wherever he went. If I had to guess, he knew someone and is now best friends with all of them.

“Hey, I just got to the restaurant. I’m going to let you go.”

“Okay, baby,” Andy replied. “Have fun. Talk to you later.”

“Text you when I get home,” I replied.

Andy was as hypervigilant about getting texts as I was. She was on staff at the hospital when Namjoon and I first arrived. I can’t remember anything from that night after getting in Joon’s car, but when Jin and I spoke about it he said Andy was one of the nurses having to help triage me. She had to be physically pulled away from my body once the doctors found out about our connection, but the image of my body that night is burned into her mind. She was the person who took care of me the most upon release and quit her job at the hospital for a little while in order to make sure I was well taken care of. Calls and texts were just our thing now and I always felt horrible for being part of such a traumatic event for her.

“Love you,” She said.

“Love you too,” I replied, hanging up.

Getting out of my car, I locked the doors and made my way over to Jimin. He caught sight of me before I reached the small group and broke out into a huge, heart stopping smile. Unable to stop myself, I smiled back and waved awkwardly. He said something to the group before meeting me halfway.

“Hey, you,” He said, wrapping his arms around me. “You look really pretty.”

I laughed nervously, squeezing his waist. “Thanks. I tried my best.”

Pulling away, I was able to admire him a bit better. He was wearing light jeans tonight, a rarity as he preferred sweatpants and slacks, and a black t-shirt. A leather jacket was a staple in his wardrobe, and he always said they kept him warm enough. I never believed him. As always, everything was a tight fit and showed off his body perfectly.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” I said once my appraisal was finished. “Nice boots. Where’d you get them?”

He looked down at the black, Chelsea boots and shrugged, “Nordstrom, I think. Taehyung got them for me a few Christmases ago.”

Of course he did.

“Let’s go inside. I’m cold.”

Jimin laughed, “My apologies, ma’am.”

The restaurant was packed, but Jimin had arrived thirty minutes early to get us on their waitlist, so I only had to wait five minutes for our table to be ready. Jimin brushed off the gesture as first date etiquette, but I knew better. The kid was late to everything and yet he got here early so I wouldn’t have to stand outside in the cold. It almost made me reach out and hold his hand, but my nerves got the best of me. We were at our table before I could gather up some courage, leaving a disappointed, bitter taste in my mouth.

“I’m feeling Disco Fries as an app. You?”

Searching the menu for them, I nodded. “That sounds really good.”

We were quiet for a few minutes as we decided on what we wanted. The menu here was rather large, filled with Mexican foods and copious BBQ items. Having never been here before I had no clue what was good and what hasn’t, but from how many people were here I had to assume nothing was bad.

“Know what you want?” Jimin asked, breaking the silence.

I shook my head, “No idea. What about you?”

“I get the same thing every time I come,” He laughed. “The Korean BBQ Burger is really fucking good. I also like the enchiladas.”

Finding both items, my mouth watered. Everything sounded amazing, but I wanted to get a little out of my comfort zone. I just had burgers yesterday, so I was not feeling that. Maybe BBQ? Looking at the options, I shook my head. I could not eat a half pound of anything. Biting the dry skin on my lips, my brain felt like it was working on overdrive. Too many options.

“Welcome to Union Rec,” I jumped a little, startled. “I’m Annie and I’ll be your server tonight.”

My eyes locked with a pair of baby blues, and I immediately recognized her. She was the brunette from the bar a couple of months ago. Eyes sliding from me, she landed on Jimin and the bored expression on her face morphed into one of pure bliss. I did not understand why she had given me that nasty look back then, but it was much clearer to me now. She had a thing for Jimin. Remembering she had a boyfriend, one she screamed at over the phone, it made me feel nauseous. Poor Tom.

“Oh my gosh, Christian. What are you doing here?” She asked, sneaking a look at me.

“Got a hot date,” He replied cheekily, gesturing his hand my way. “You remember Y/N, right?”

She gave me one of those tight-lipped, fake smiles. I returned the favor. I was not really jealous per say, Jimin’s declaration making any possibility of that disappear, but I did not appreciate anyone trying to make me feel small. I was a gold medalist. I was a fucking Olympian. Whoever the hell this chick thought she was, I would make sure she never thought for a second she got under my skin.

“Yeah, we met at Brecon’s,” Annie replied, completely ignoring me. “Thought she was your coach.”

Jimin either did not catch the insult or he was choosing to ignore it. His smile was still just as pleasant as it was when we first sat down. I envied his ability to keep his emotions so controlled. I knew I must have been glaring at the poor girl.

“She is,” He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean she’s not my girlfriend. Are you taking our order or…?”

Annie spluttered for a second before regaining her composure. All affection in her eyes was gone and replaced by irritation. It was definitely directed at me, but Jimin’s dismissal must have stung. I was happy to be rid of her. Putting in our order for Disco fries, Jimin got a Sprite and Annie left before I could ask for a drink. Sipping on my complimentary water, I forced myself to breathe in and out. She was just a petty, annoyed girl with a crush. That was all. So, what if she was being rude? I was fine. Everything was fine. After the fifth sip, I actually believed it.

Trying to keep my tongue in check, I went back to looking through the menu. Finally able to make a choice, I decided on the birria beef ramen and closed the menu. Hopefully little miss Annie wouldn’t spit in it. Hot again, I took another long sip of water.

“Excuse me.”

Jimin flagged down another waiter, a pleasant smile on his face. Confused, I put down the glass and raised an eyebrow. He winked at me before laying the charm on thick.

“Hey Marty. Would you mind if we got a different server?”

The young girl nodded frantically, “Of course. Is everything okay?”

Jimin smiled, eyes like crescents. “Everything is fine. Just Annie on her bullshit. Don’t want to get her fired by talking to your dad.”

Marty rolled her eyes, “Figures. I’ll tell her I’m taking care of you guys. Just don’t expect me to be running around for you, man. I have an entire section by myself.”

“I want privacy anyway,” Jimin replied, smirking at me. “Thanks. I’ll tip you well.”

She laughed, “Just make sure you put it in my hand. That bitch has been stealing tips. Cosette is trying to convince pops to fire her, but you know how he is about the girl.”

Jimin shook his head, “I already know. Can you get my girl a drink? Annie ran off without taking her order.”

Marty looked at me, her deadpan stare making me burst into laughter. Apparently, it wasn’t just me. That helped.

“Sorry about her. She’s a massive bitch. What can I get you?”

I smiled, my mood a million times better, “Iced tea, please.”

“You got it, babe. You ready to order?”

Marty took our orders and promised to be back with my drink soon.

“How do you two know each other?” I asked Jimin, finishing off my water.

“We were in the same class back in high school. Her mom owns that flower shop on Michigan Avenue.”

That was surprising. I was positive the girl was no older than eighteen. She reminded me of a porcelain doll, her chubby cheek and big eyes adding something angelic to her overall look. Then again, Jimin did not look all that old either. It was easy to forget he just turned 24. The age gap was really messing with my brain.

Annie was back with Jimin’s drink a few minutes later. She said nothing when she practically slammed his cup on the table before stalking off. It was then that I knew who she reminded me of. Darcy. I wondered if they were friends. Definitely had the same attitude problem, that was for sure.

“Ignore her,” Jimin told me once she was out of earshot. “I’ve been doing it since middle school.”

The rest of our dinner went back without a hitch. With Annie out of the way, and Marty’s small and infrequent check-in’s, we were able to be in a bubble of sorts. He asked about my trip back home and filled me in on what happened over the weekend. He had finally told his parents about our date and said that his mom thought it was a great idea. James called me perfect a few times, too. I had a hard time believing it, but Jimin had never lied to me before. It was nice to know the people around him accepted me even if I was a few years older.

“My mom’s 9 years older than my dad,” He revealed in between bites of food.

Shocked, I stopped eating all together. I had no idea they were that different in age. Ne-Yeon looked so youthful and pretty it was hard to guess just how old she actually was. Even fighting cancer, that woman did not look a day over 40. James was also in great shape for his age. To hear they had their own age gap made me feel a little bit better.

“Wait,” Something else occurred to me. “Your mom was in her forties when she had you?”

Jimin nodded, “45. She had Haru at 48.”

It made sense to me now. To Jimin, our age gap was nothing special. It was smaller than his parents’, and having an older mother did not bother him at all. In his eyes, we had all of the time in the world for marriage and kids. A small weight came off of my shoulders. It really did not mean anything to him. He was not just saying that to make me feel better either.

“Do you want dessert?” He asked, his plate empty in front of him.

I was almost done with my bowl, “What do they have?”

He squinted his eyes, thinking.

“I know they have this horchata banana pudding. It’s literally the best dessert I’ve ever had in my life. There are a few other things, but I can’t remember what they are.”

I chuckled, “Then we’ll have the banana pudding.”

Jimin was not exaggerating either. The pudding was delicious. I almost wished we had each gotten our own serving, but after seeing the bill we were happy we hadn’t. Jimin paid this time. We had a back-and-forth deal when it came to meals. I got us breakfast last Wednesday, so he was picking up this bill. This was, unfortunately, much higher than Denny’s.

“I’ll put gas in your truck,” I offered on our way out. “To make up for the difference from Denny’s.”

He scoffed, “Don’t worry about it.”

“But-”

“We’re together now,” He interrupted me. “If I want to pay for a meal, then I will. You don’t have to pay me back.”

“We’ve always done that,” I argued.

“That was before,” He countered, walking me to my car door and opening it. “This is now. And right now, I’m trying to take a pretty girl, in a pretty dress, on a nice date. That includes paying for her meal.”

Getting into my seat, I pointed out that I let him do the gentleman thing all of the time. Opening my door for me, pulling chairs out at restaurants, and even walking on the curbside when we were out together. The list was endless. The least I could do was pay for half of a meal.

“I don’t do those things to get on your good side,” Jimin replied. “I do them because I want to. This isn’t transactional. So, stop worrying about being a burden. I enjoy taking care of you. You deserve to be taken care of.”

I could not think of a good enough comeback, so I just decided to drop it. If he wanted to pay for me then he could. It was his money to spend.

“Send me your address.”

“You still want to come over?” He seemed surprised.

“Yeah,” I nodded, already pulling up the GPS. “What is it?”

He sounded like Charlie when he won the golden ticket as he gave me his address.

“Don’t get too excited now,” I joked. “Just because I’m coming over doesn’t mean anything.”

Jimin laughed, “I pretend I don’t even know what sex is until after date three, so don’t worry about it.”

That made me laugh, “Get in your truck. I’ll meet you there.”

Looking back at him, I felt giddy. His eyes were so alight, his joy written so clearly across his face it took my breath away. A happy Jimin was the only kind I wanted to see. Blowing caution to the wind, I finally reached out. Touching his stomach, I felt the muscles clench beneath my fingers.

“Thank you,” I said earnestly.

“What for?” He rasped, placing one hand over mine, pressing my hand further into his skin.

“For-” I broke off, taking my hand away. The feeling of him underneath me was too much. “For being so accommodating. I really appreciate it.”

He laughed, the sound strained and airy. I was too embarrassed by my actions to look at his face, but I could feel his eyes burning into the side of my eyes. Unlike me, Jimin was always brave. Hopefully some of that confidence would rub off on me. Maybe then I could reach out and hold him whenever I wanted to.

“You’re welcome,” He replied, and my thighs clenched together at how rough he sounded. Did touching him do that? Or was it the praise? It could be both. “Drive safe, okay? You can follow me if that helps.”

I nodded, swallowing. The icy air outside did nothing to put out the blistering heat coursing between us right now. It was overwhelming how hot it was. Turning up my A/C, I pointed the vent directly at my face.

“See you in a few minutes,” I breathed, still unable to look at him.

Jimin closed my door, and I leaned back in my seat breathing heavily. I watched him as he rounded the front of my car, those pants sticking to his legs like a second skin and groaned. I had never felt this level of desire for anyone before.

He reminded me so much of Namjoon. His beautiful brain and love for music and poetry so reminiscent it managed to bring me back to happier times. In the beginning I was afraid my attraction to him stemmed from that link. Because he reminded me of something I had loved so dearly that meant what I was beginning to feel was just a projection.

I was wrong. So unbelievably wrong. Jimin had a passion that Joon could never replicate. If Joon was a warm blanket, then Jimin was like the tide in the sea. On the surface it was calm, steady, and beautiful. Underneath that was life like nothing I had ever seen before. He was refreshing and filled with this fire for life that reminded me of my own from years ago.

Namjoon was perfect, a boy-next-door, and soft spoken. Back then I had enough of that passion for the both of us. Now I saw more and more parallels between us than ever before. I was uncertain, waiting for someone else to bring excitement back into my life, too afraid to reach out and take what I wanted anymore.

And then Jimin was there with that big smile willing to take me on whatever adventure I desired. All I had to do was ask. It was exhilarating, fun, and I was happy to be a part of the ride. His softness, his kindness, his understanding- all of it wrapped up in a pretty red bow. A gift that kept on giving.

I did not love Jimin, but I knew then that I could. With his sharp tongue and charisma, it was impossible not to. Everyone else did. Who was I to think I could be any different? I was a slave to his happiness. It was in that moment, sitting in my car, that I finally understood what was happening.

I was falling in love and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga @sumzysworld @chimmisbae

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ooffmlsorry · 10 months

Text

Bringing Law Home for a Family Holiday

Readers' Note: Reader has a large and generally good but overbearing family. Only happy things in this, little to no angst!

A/N: Every holiday I get struck with the desire to write my latest blorbo coming home with their s/o for the holidays. I don't have time to crack out 10-15k words so this is probs gonna be more stream of consciousness but it'll get the point across.

I've been imagining how tense the travel to Law's s/o's house is because God forbid y'all be late because Law wants to make a good impression no matter how many times you explain it's a very loose 4 p.m. arrival time.

You've been dating for long enough that you think it's reasonable for him to meet your family (that was enough to make Law's heart flutter and then start hammering...could it be you're just as serious about him as he is about you?)

"My aunt showed up at noon and my cousin's probably not going to be here until after dark, really it's fine!" You'd insist. "Besides, the people that show up on time are the ones that end up having to go back out because someone forgot something!"

And of course Law would say "that's fine." With a such a stubborn and determined tone. Being on time or a few minutes early is better than being late! Suddenly your man is a rule follower! 🤭Suddenly you can picture Law as he was a kid studious and button-ed up in his little doctor's uniform. It's almost kind of cute if he wasn't so nervous.

The closest thing to family Law has is Bepo, Shachi and Penguin. Not since the Donquixote family has Law had anything to do with that word and he's so nervous he feels sick. For Law this translate to acting like he has the world's biggest cactus shoved up his ass, and you know that so you try not to take his coolness personally.

Holding his hand helps a little though. You ignore how shaky and sweaty it is.

He's feeling a lot of big feelings right now, poor guy.

He insisted on you giving him a "family tree" when he realized how big your family is and a list of things not to accidentally mention or do. He's been studying it for days, re-reading it over and over obsessively.

The fact that he's a pirate is fine, which takes a lot of pressure off. You come from a family full of pirates, so you swear Law will fit right in. Although you warn him your grandfather's probably going to start reminiscing about how he knew Gol D. Roger as a kid (which no one knows if that's actually true) and ranting about the young pirates these days.

You'd walk up to your family home high on a hill over looking the sea. From several yards away you can already hear music. You realize as you get closer it's more like you're dragging Law more than he's walking with you.

It's subconscious lol. I promise you he's not doing it on purpose. As soon as you notice it he speaks, "I'm fine."

Poor Traffy is so pale!

His tone dares you to question him, almost as if to actually say "I'm fine, if I wasn't I wouldn't be here Y/N. Please trust me to be honest with you about how I'm feeling." But that's a lot of words for someone who's mouth is cotton dry. He's trying his best, so you give him a quick kiss on the cheek for courage and walk up to the house together.

The first thing your family comments on when you open the door is how early you are despite the fact that it's three minutes to 4:00.

"We weren't expecting Y/N for another hour!" Your aunt winks at Law and nudges him, no introduction, no nothing, and says "you must really be something special if you can get them here to early!"

Despite Law's best efforts, having one of your family members immediately point out his supposed specialness to you makes blush and stutter.

It doesn't matter how awkward his no response of blinking at your aunt was because she's already gone flitting around with an arm full of what your family calls "the good plates."

You pull Law down to whisper in his ear, "told you we'd be early," you giggle.

It's not the nicest house, but it is big, and warm, and festive. Just standing in the doorway taking it in Law's struck with the remembrance of home. He tries to only focus on the present, not Swallow Island, Spider Miles, or even Flevance, your home is good..for today. But tomorrow he'll back at his home: the Polar Tang.

You introduce him to what little family is already there. Your heart squeezes at the way Law awkwardly waves at the baby your cousin's bouncing on his lap and the surprise that quickly turns into a soft smile that spreads across his lips when the baby coos back.

He meets your grandpa, who appraises him very officially. You swear to God Law's holding his breath as the stout man with a peg leg circles him with his arms behind his back. "Trafalgar Law, hmm..." he says very seriously. "You know back in my day pirates didn't all these tattoos to prove they were tough."

"I heard your day was quite a long time ago," Law says almost automatically. In for a penny, in for a pound, he doubles down, adding "sir" at the end.

That would be your boyfriend hehe. Too sharp for his own good.

Of course that's what your grandfather likes. He shakes Law's hand and pulls him into a crushing hug. Your grandpa promises later he's got words for him (ie. the shovel talk). It's a little disturbing how comfortable Law feels knowing he'll be threatened with an unspeakably awful death later. That's the most familiar thing that has happened all day. lol

But he knows the person he needs to impart the best impression on is your grandmother. You don't think you've ever seen Law so perfectly polite in your life....which makes your grandmother howl with laughter! "My ass whooping days are over, boy! Relax!" Her frail hands clutch her stomach as she laughs. She wipes a tear from her eyes, "I thought you said he was a pirate?!" She pats Law on the cheek like he's a sweet little boy (because at her old age 26 is a little boy) and gives it a squeeze. And because it's your grandma, he lets her.

You have to hide your laughter behind your hand.

"He's a sweet boy, Y/N," she says to you. "And so handsome! Where were all the good-looking men like him when I was at sea?"

"I killed 'em all!" Your grandpa yells across the house.

And just like that, Law's in your grandmother's good graces. Of course you knew he would be.

True to your word earlier, you get sent in to town to pick up a short list of last minute things. It's a nice moment to breathe. As soon as you're far enough from the house you wrap your arms around him and kiss him deeply.

"I'm so happy they like you," you say quietly once you come up for air. You don't tease him about how strange it is to see him hoping for someone's approval like you would in most circumstances. Instead you feel yourself melt, "I knew they would, but now you believe me?"

"They like me for now," he says because god forbid he go easy on himself.

"You're not as hard to love as you think you are, Law." You press another kiss to his lips.

(A/N: ooh chile lemme tell you, for saying that right there that man is going to romantically rail you within an inch of your life when y'all get back to the ship. That is the only way I can convey to you how much you saying that means to him. He's speechless.)

By time y'all get back there are a lot more people here and it's a lot louder. Your brother asks Law about a rash on elbow (at the dinner table no less, but hey these are pirates!) and he actually gives him advice.

Law meets your little cousins, who ask him a million questions including but not limited to:

"Why do you wears that funny looking hat?"

"Are you actually a surgeon?"

"Does getting a tattoo hurt?"

"Can you give me a tattoo?"

"How many Marines have you killed?"

"Are the Straw Hat Pirates really that strong?"

"Do you really have a polar bear on your ship?"

"Are you and Y/N ever gonna have a baby?"

To which Law responds:

"Who said it was funny looking?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know. I don't feel pain." you thought this man would take their questions seriously?

"Surgeons aren't allowed to do that. My hands will fall off if I do."

"Definitely more than you."

"As strong as they are stupid."

"Yeah, he's our navigator."

".........I think I heard someone calling you from the kitchen."

Your little cousins think "he's weird funny." He does "surgery" on the dolls your cousins offer up to him and thoroughly enjoy the weird monstrosities he creates. And Your moody teenage nephew deems Law "cool."

Your mom insists Law's too skinny for his own good and piles more food on his plate. "If you're going to survive out there you need some meat on your bones! I wanna see you here next year, Trafalgar."

Law almost chokes. Your mom already wants him back next year. He was expecting to have to get her approval somehow too, but she's accepted him immediately. "All I needed to know is if you make my little Y/N happy!" Your mom explains while hugging you, "And look how happy they are!"

And your old man, a pirate captain in his own right, several beers deep, slings his arm over Law's shoulder. "You're the one that's got that big ol' bounty, huh?" Before Law can fully answer, he continues on drunkenly, "that means you probably looted enough to cover your own wedding, right? Cause I'm sure's shit not." God bless Law for taking it with a grain of salt and taking him over to a couch. "That means you can marry 'em if ya want, as'long as I don' havta pay none. But if you break their heart I'll turn ya in myself...goddamn Marines...making me a traitor..." he says until his words turn into drunk muttering.

"That's your blessing in case you were wondering," your mom sighs. "I know you didn't ask but that was it. That man is fine with anything as long as he doesn't have to pay for it."

"You get my blessing because you helped clean up!" Your grandma pipes in. "Nothing more valuable than a man that knows how clean up after himself!"

I don't know how many times Law is rendered speechless for a moment. Was it that easy or was your family truly that accepting? In a handful of hours he's been completely welcomed and they want him to come back next year, to marry you? It's dizzying, but in a...hopeful way? Because...he wants it to happen too...if he's lucky enough to come back next year as your husband.

At the end of the night, you and Law are sent on your way with tons of food to bring back to Heart Pirates, and whether he likes it or not your mom and your grandma each press a kiss to Law's cheek.

You walk back down the hill together.

"It was good to see them again," you say. "Was that too much?"

"No," Law says. "I'm happy."

A/N: so yeah, I just had that bumbling around in my head today. I hope it was fluffy enough for ya! 😘

#one piece fluff #one piece x you #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece #trafalgar law

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joelmillers-whore · 1 year

Text

The Only Thing I Did Right

summary: after a patrol gone wrong, joel races to get you back to jackson. while the doctor tries to save you, he wrestles with the guilt of letting you down.

pairing: joel miller x reader

word count: 2.6K

series or one-shot

warnings: mature, language, joel x female!reader, no mention of Y/N, canon timeline (sort of), jackson era, post-outbreak, soft joel, hurt/comfort, minor descriptions of blood, joel thinking everything is his fault, tommy is there briefly, mentions of drinking and/or alcohol dependence, happy ending don’t worry, angst if you squint

A/N: i meant for this to be a short drabble because my creativity has been waning lately and i’m a little burned out to be honest, but i got carried away, but what else is new. anywho, enjoy this lil fic. let me know if ya’ll would like to see another part of this or maybe an interconnected one-shot series, i would be down. i really enjoyed writing this. also, i am still trying to power through this sickness i have suddenly, and i don’t think i’ll be able to post hard light chapter two this week.

I've Got Nothing Left To Hide

“Where’s it hurt?”, Joel asked, in a low, almost inaudible voice. He tried to keep his tone calm, trying to keep you calm, but his mind was flustered, and he was on edge, and he was pretty sure that you could see right through his charade.

He swallowed thickly, past a lump that was stuck in his throat. His eyes darted all over you, tracking every movement, every laboured breath, and wince.

It had been decades since he had felt like this; the constricting of his chest, the shallow and unsure breaths that he was letting out, and the staggering way his heart clenched, a silent prayer on his lips, asking any God who would listen to spare you.

It all felt so overwhelming and a little too familiar. Images of Sarah flashed through his mind, dredging up demons and emotions he had thought he had left in the past.

He had never been so afraid of losing someone he loved, not since Sarah, but here he was now, feeling like he was about to collapse at any minute, terrified of making the wrong move and losing you.

He swallowed again, harsher as he concentrated on his breathing.

He hadn’t let his mind drift to thoughts of his daughter in a long time, his chest burning in that familiar way each time that he did, squeezing to the point of pain.

He let an idle hand drift to his chest, right above his heart, and gripped it, trying to will it subconsciously to slow down. But it was no use.

There were very few things in the world that made Joel feel as if the ground was collapsing underneath him, and thinking of Sarah was definitely one of them.

Whenever he found himself thinking of her, thinking of how he couldn’t save her, the breath from his lungs evaporated, and guilt slammed into him with enough force to destabilize him.

But seeing you like this, the woman that he had promised Tommy that he would watch over and protect, writhe in pain as blood pooled under your shirt, that was another thing that he couldn’t bear to witness.

You looked so helpless, lying in his arms, looking up at him with droopy lids, a faraway look in your eyes.

He cursed under his breath, knowing that you were injured because of him, because of his carelessness.

You were going to be another person he couldn’t protect and he didn’t know how much more of that he could take.

“‘M fine”, you said, weakly, your breath coming out in stunted gasps.

Joel shook his head, tempered anger coursing through his veins, “Don’t pull that brave shit with me”, he bit out, harsher than he intended. He gripped you tighter in his arms, holding onto you for dear life. “I know it hurts, so just tell me”.

He watched as tears gathered at the corners of your eyes, you tried to blink them but the motion only made them fall, coating your cheeks.

Joel lifted a hand, wiping them away. He hated to see you cry, he couldn’t stand it, it broke his heart.

He left his thumb on the apple of your cheek, thinking that maybe the sensation would bring you some comfort, thinking that maybe it would bring him some comfort.

“Am I going to die, Joel?”, you asked, a slight tremble in your voice.

Joel shook his head, adamantly, “Not if I can help it”.

You faded in and out of consciousness as Joel debated his next move, trying to figure out how he was going to get you back to Jackson.

He clutched the hem of your shirt, the material sticking to your stomach as he peeled it from you.

He visibly cringed as he eyed your wound, the punctured flesh dispelling crimson red at a rapid and borderline concerning rate.

He couldn’t wait around any longer, couldn’t wait for the next round of patrol to find them, if they even came out this far. So, he took matters into his own hands, his muted internal clock ticking down the more he looked at you pale in his arms.

He scooped up your limb body, pressing you flush to his body, determination and adrenaline pumping through him, the driving force propelling him into action.

There was only one thought in his head; get you back to Jackson, by whatever means.

As he stepped out of the small cabin, Joel noticed that the sun was slowly starting to dip beneath the horizon, the pop of blistering orange making him anxious.

Night would come quicker than either of you wanted and then the real challenge would begin, trying to navigate through the dense forest and get back to the community in the dark.

You were trembling in his arms, shaking so violently, from either the bitter cold or the loss of blood, that he thought that he was the one who was hurting you.

“Can you ride?”, he asked, urgency in his voice.

“Dunno”.

Joel couldn't risk injuring you further, but he also couldn’t waste any more time, so he made an executive decision. He had been making a lot of those on your behalf today, and his most recent had gotten you in this position in the first place, it was his fault.

If anything happened to you, he wouldn’t ever forgive himself.

He placed you tentatively on the ground, his arm sneaking around your waist to stabilize you as he untied his horse from the post.

“Alright”, he bent slightly, grabbing your foot and placing it in his hand, “Nice ‘n easy now”.

He could see the strain on your face, the pellets of sweat sticking to your hairline as you used as much strength as you could, hoisting yourself up and onto the horse. You’d let out a strangled groan as you got situated.

Once he knew that you were on, he hopped up, grabbing the reins and digging his heels into Shimmer’s body, spurring her into a run, his motivation to get back to Jackson making his heart race.

The only solace that Joel took from not being able to see you from the position he was in, was that he could feel you gripping him from behind, your arms latching around his waist, your cheek flush with his back.

He could feel your chest rising and falling against him and his pulse softened, knowing that you were still fighting, still holding on for him.

He had pushed Shimmer to her limits, getting you both back to Jackson in record time. The sequence of events that followed had been a blur to him.

The gates had opened immediately, the guards recognizing him even in the dusk.

He remembered screaming his throat raw, begging someone for help as he carried you into town and to the doctor.

He’d watched on, helplessly, as they quickly began working on you. Blood and cloth blurred his vision, making his stomach twist with queasiness.

He had to leave the room, too overcome with emotion and nausea to be of any help to you.

When he stepped outside of the small makeshift clinic, the frigid air pierced his lungs, drawing out a long and aching breath, striking him so sharply that he stumbled forward.

He had gripped a wooden post for support, digging his palms into it for purchase, closing his eyes.

He tried to get a handle on his breathing, but it was no use. He felt the bile creeping higher in his throat, until he couldn’t hold back anymore.

It poured out of him, leaving his mouth dry and his head spinning. It was a visceral reaction, his worry over you, over what he had let happen.

He cursed Tommy for entrusting him with you, something so precious. He knew things could have turned out worse, and he was glad that they hadn’t been, but he couldn’t get over how bad they were right now.

How shaken to his core he was that he had allowed this to happen at all.

Joel couldn’t stand to be there anymore, just on the other side of the door that led to you, powerless while the doctor patched you up. So, he did the one thing he had always been good at, he left.

Snow crunched underneath his boots, growing louder in his ears as he walked away from the clinic. He thought that a drink might help calm his nerves.

A part of his brain wanted to forget that this day had ever happened, and another part told him that no amount of alcohol would repair the guilt that was nestled snuggly in his gut. But he could try.

Joel didn’t know how long he had been at the Tipsy Bison, he had lost track of time after the third or fourth whiskey. He blew out a shaky breath, letting a hand drift over his haggard features.

He had been running on adrenaline the whole day and now he was crashing, feeling the exhaustion settle deep in his bones.

But he couldn’t rest, he didn’t deserve to, not when he didn’t know if you had made it or not.

A jolt of horror shot through his body, making his stomach twist in knots. What if you hadn’t made it? He licked his dry lips, closing his eyes as he felt a prick form behind his eyes.

Joel was startled by a firm hand on his shoulder. He twisted slightly to see who it was, his face dropping further when he saw that it was Tommy.

He didn’t have to look at his brother for long to get a read on his expression. What he was thinking.

He was pissed and rightfully so. He had failed you and now he was waiting for Tommy to lay into him, chastise him for being so fucking stupid.

“She’s askin’ for ya”, Tommy said, keeping his voice soft.

Joel turned around in his seat fully to look at Tommy, surprised that he had gotten to his feet so fast. He snorted out a laugh, seeing the fucking relief that was surely on Joel’s face.

Tommy clapped his shoulder again, almost to stabilize him. Joel couldn’t look his brother in the eye, guilt bubbling and breaking the surface, making his skin sting.

“‘M sorry”, he mumbled, “I should’ve been there, I should’ve gotten to her quicker, I shoulda done something”.

Tommy shook his head, “You couldn’t’ve known that would happen, Joel. So stop blaming yourself”.

Joel scratched at his facial hair, running his hand along his jaw, pondering Tommy’s words.

He continued, “You protected her with your life, brother. I couldn’t ask for more than that”.

Joel felt emotion clog his throat. Tommy wasn’t angry with him like he suspected he would be, he was grateful even. Something unfamiliar unfurled in his stomach, something that felt like acceptance.

A long beat stretched between them, “Go see her”, Tommy finally said, a smile pulling at his lips.

He led Joel out of the bar, leading him back to the clinic to go see you. Tommy stopped short of the door, motioning for him to continue without him. Joel nodded curtly, slipping past and entering the small, single-room cabin.

Tentatively, Joel inched closer to the bed that you were in, walking on the balls of his feet, uncertain if you were awake or not. You were lying down, stretched out with your back to him, He sat on the edge of the bed, seeing you turn toward him, a grin on your face as you looked at him. Joel’s face heated under your gaze.

He didn’t deserve that smile, he thought, but he would take it anyway, if you were willing to give it to a man like him. He reached out, stroking your face softly with the back of his fingers.

“Hey, darlin’, how ya feelin’?”, his voice was throaty, raw.

His heart hammered below the surface as your eyes locked with his, pining him to where he sat. He didn’t want to breathe too loudly or make any sudden movements, too afraid that he would break the spell.

“Better now”, you croaked.

Everything collapsed at once inside of him; his resolve, his strength, his pride. He couldn’t fight it any longer, how fucking happy he was that you were still here, still with him.

“What’re you smiling at, hm?”, you asked, arching a brow.

Joel shook his head, his explanation dying on his tongue. He had never been one to lose his words but right now, being so close to you, he wasn’t sure he knew how to speak anymore.

Your hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling him back to the moment. Your hand was freezing as it touched his skin but he didn’t mind.

His smile disappeared as your eyes scanned his face, “I’m so fuckin’ sorry—”, he started, but you shook your head.

“It was my fault, Joel. Don’t you dare apologize for my fucking mistake. I won’t hear it”, you said, your tone firm.

Joel wanted to argue, to tell you that it was his fault but he didn’t have the heart, not when you were only just beginning to heal up, still looking weak and pale.

He could wait for another day to have it out with you. He just nodded instead, and you hummed, content with him seemingly letting it go for now.

Your hand was still on his wrist and he felt a strange sense of calm.

“Come ‘er”, you whispered, tugging on his wrist lightly.

He wasn’t sure what was happening until your lips were on his, soft, pliant, and full. The kiss was sweet but it only lasted a minute. He pulled back, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Thank you”, you said, eyes shining as the light hit them, making them more beautiful than he thought was possible.

He nodded quickly, head still spinning from kissing you. It had been a thank-you kiss and he shouldn’t think more of it.

But goddamn it, he wanted more. He wasn’t mad or upset that you had kissed him, honestly, he had been meaning to do it for months now.

If a kiss filled with gratitude for saving your life was all that he could get, he would accept that, he didn’t want to push his luck.

You noticed the uneasy look on his face, shifting in the bed and using your dwindling strength to sit up.

Now you were the one with creased brows, your eyes darting over his face, trying to find your answer. Realization struck your features.

“If I made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry, Joel. I just didn’t know how else to say it”.

Joel felt like a jackass, that wasn’t what he meant at all.

“That’s not— that’s not it, darlin’. I just didn’t think you’d want to kiss an old man like me”.

His chuckle was thick with depreciation, but you just shook your head, eyes gleaming with something he didn’t recognize. You chewed your lower lip and Joel couldn’t help but stare.

“I’ve been meaning to do that for a while actually”, you admitted.

Joel’s head snapped up, searching your eyes. You were sincere and he knew it. That was the confirmation that he needed, the hope that lit a flame in his chest. You wanted him too.

A deep chortle escaped Joel’s throat, his face neutral as he leaned in closer to yours. “Then I guess we better make up for lost time then”.

Joel pressed his lips into yours, moulding to the shape of them as he gripped your face in his large hands, letting a groan slip into your mouth. You pulled back with a giggle, fisting the hair at the base of his head.

Your smile was a thousand watts and Joel couldn’t look away. His grip on your face tightened a little more, making sure that this was really happening to him.

He couldn’t believe it but he dove back in regardless, wanting to soak in as much of your love and light that you were willing to give to him.

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selfindulgentpixies · 1 year

Text

Soothing words and decaf

Satoru Gojo x Reader x Suguru Geto one shot

When nightmares wake you up once again your boyfriends decide they can't just leave you to sit up alone. Gn!reader, reader wears glasses and has bad eyesight, not stated where in the timeline this is. It's an AU where Suguru never left though. This is really just to comfort myself because my nightmares have been bad lately and making sleep super difficult. It why i've been slow on writing stuff because i'm tired a lot. Also i couldn't decide on just one of them for this comfort fic and needed to be doted on by both. Pls excuse any typos or mistakes

You wake with a start, a stuttering in your chest and a choked gasp. You gaze blearily up at the ceiling, your current location slowly invades your senses and pushes away the personal hell your subconscious had been creating for you. There’s warm breath fanning over the crown of your head. It would probably be ruffling your bangs if not for the fact they were plastered to your forehead by the sweat. You glance to your right and see that at some point in his sleep Satoru had decided you were his personal teddy bear. Your eyes then drift to the left and you jolt slightly to find that Suguru is blinking back at you with a combination of tiredness and concern.

“Another one?” He asks, voice low and thick with sleep. This had unfortunately become routine.

You go to speak and nothing comes out the first try but upon clearing your throat slightly and trying again you let out a small. “Yeah.. Go back to sleep, Sugu.”

He huffs a little at your words and how you begin to try and wiggle out of Satoru’s arms without waking him. An impossible task given that all three of you weren’t what anyone could call heavy sleepers. Trauma will do that afterall. So it’s unsurprising when Satoru grumbles and tightens his grip on you. “You should take your own advice.” Satoru’s voice is just as gravely as Suguru’s and when you glance up you see him peering down at you with his impossibly bright eyes.

“You know I can’t do that… Let me up and the two of you can get some sleep.” You scoot up to a sitting position, Satoru's arms wrapped around your waist making your task of reaching over him to the side table to get your glasses a far harder task than it needed to be. You whine and flop on him. Fine you’d just be blind. You wiggle down and under his arm, surprised he allowed you to do so as you slide to the end of the bed to get up.

You didn’t feel like giving Satoru a chance to change his mind about letting you go so you don’t walk past him to get your glasses and instead just pad your way into the kitchen. Your shared apartment with the two men was so familiar you could probably navigate it wearing Satoru’s blindfold.

Once you’re close enough to the microwave to make out the little glowing numbers you let out a huff. It wasn’t even five am yet. You’d maybe managed to get four hours of sleep which was becoming painfully typical. Today would be another day of surviving off coffee and hopefully slipping in a nap as soon as you got a chance. Your nightmares seemed to happen less when you slept during the day.

You’re shuffling around the cupboards getting down what you need to make coffee when you hear quiet foot falls, perhaps near silent for someone else but your ears were sensitive and seemingly more so when you chose to mostly forgo being able to see. Anything beyond a couple feet away from you losing all clarity and blurring around the edges. Impressions of objects you only recognized based on familiarity.

Well mostly. “That’s the sea salt, love.” Suguru whispers against the shell of your ear as he takes the long cylindrical container from your hand to place back on the shelf and then grabs a very similar but not identical container that houses the sugar.

You grumble. “Why do we even keep them next to eachother on the shelf?” Suguru’s hair tickling your neck makes you twitch slightly but you don’t brush it or him away as he leans over you, enveloping you in his warmth, resting his chin on your head as he bends at the waist and wraps his arms around your middle.

“Normally you’re wearing your glasses and can tell the difference.” there’s the smallest hint of amusement to his voice.

You sigh. That was true. It annoys you but it’s true. You rock back on your heels and lean into his chest. “Really you should get more sleep. Go cuddle with Satoru, I’m sure he’s lonely trying to sleep alon-”

A loud yawn cuts through the kitchen as Satoru walks in. “Too late, already here.”

“Seriously you both should-”

“If we should be sleeping so should you. So either you come back to bed with us, or we’re all starting our day at this ungodly hour.” You feel Suguru’s jaw moving against the top of your head as he talks.

You frown deeply, slouching in his hold. “I… can’t sleep okay? If i go back to sleep it’ll probably just start again.”

Suguru hums and rocks the both of you back and forth. “Then it sounds like we’re all getting up then, right Satoru? “ He turns you both so you’re facing Satoru who’s much closer now.

Another yawn. “Sounds about right.” And as he says this he places your glasses on your face, bringing his own into focus for you. Satoru is beautiful as always but definitely looks like he needs more sleep. But you know very well how stubborn both he and Suguru are, they’re worse than you are.

You cave. “Fine, stay up if you want then.” You wanted to sound petulant but instead you just sound tired. Suguru Squeezes you before rising to his full height and releasing you. “Go relax, I’ll make the coffee.”

Before you can respond he gives you a small nudge in Satoru’s direction who doesn’t give you time to protest as he scoops you up and carries you toward the plush living room couch. He flops both of you down before rolling you so he’s squishing you into the plush fabric. “Satoruuuu-” You try to protest as he nuzzles into your neck. If you were more awake you might have caught on to what the two men were doing since in the kitchen Suguru put away the regular coffee and switched it out for decaf before brewing it. They still had some hope of lulling you back to sleep and caffeine wasn’t part of that. They knew you well enough that you likely just needed to be soothed and given time to get out of your head so you could be directed back to bed.

“Mmm don’t want to cuddle me?” He pouts at you.

“You’re squishing me, you big menace!”

The two of you go back and forth, you sinking back into the couch and giving Satoru his way despite complaining when what feels like suddenly Suguru is there holding two mugs of coffee and judging by the heap of whipcream on the third mug a cup of hot chocolate for Satoru. He kicks one of Satoru’s legs. “Move over and quit crushing them. “

Satoru grunts and starts to complain until he looks At Suguru and spots the mug topped with whipcream. He sits up quickly, suddenly looking angelic which earns a sigh from both you and the long haired man. You sit up and give Suguru a grateful smile as he passes you one of the steaming mugs. “Thank you, Sugu.”

“Of course.” He leans forward and brushes his lips over your forehead. He gets you to scoot over slightly and as you often do you find yourself squished between the two men. You didn’t need to be squished, the couch was big enough, Satoru just seemed dead set on not moving further than he had to.

You don’t really talk as you quietly sip at your coffee, instead listening to Satoru and Suguru talk about the upcoming day, voices low and soothing. You hardly notice when your mug is pulled from your hands and placed on the coffee table before you can spill the remnants of your drink on your lap. You blink rapidly realizing you’ve been completely zoned out only now to have Satoru’s face directly in yours. It’s brief because the next thing you know he’s picked you up for the second time that night, or rather morning. “Satoru-” You cut off in a yawn and wrap your arms around his shoulders, body shaking slightly with a stretch.

“I think it’s time we head back to bed. Suguru and I have been talking to you and you haven’t even noticed,” he says amusement clear in his voice. You can hear Suguru in the background putting your mugs in the sink before following the two of you.

“Mm sorry,” you mumble against his shoulder, your glasses being pushed askew though you couldn’t care less. You feel more than hear Satoru laugh. And it feels like in the next blink he’s laying you back in bed, and gently slipping your glasses off before crawling in after you, wrapping you in his arms. It’s only a couple moments later that Suguru follows. A rough warm hand sliding under your sleep shirt to splay over your stomach.

You’re finally back asleep then, safely tucked between the two of them where no harm can come to you, even if your dreams make you feel otherwise. The two of them will always be there to remind you that you’re safe.

@nanamikentoseyebags @strawberrystepmom @icy-spicy

@gojoest

#satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #suguru geto x reader #gn!reader #jjk x reader #geto x reader #satosugu x reader #gojo x reader x geto #rossi writes

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merbear25 · 3 months

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Hey Mer! I've been reading more on Tumblr lately and I've really been enjoying your work. I was wondering if you could write something for a trans reader (ftm) x the cross guild members (Croc, Buggy, Mihawk)?

Maybe the reader works at the guild, one of Buggy's men maybe, and the piece would be the boys navigating asking the reader out for the first time, and the reader feels like he has to reveal that he's trans?

If you aren't comfortable/feel out of your depth, no worries ✨

Hey, Logan!! Thank you for such lovely words. It truly means a lot to know you enjoy my writing. I’m totally fine with writing requests like this, so thank you for sending it in! I got a boost of inspo with Buggy’s part for some reason.😂 I hope I did your request justice and you like what I’ve written for you. 💜💜

CW: trans male reader, coming out to them, fluff

Them asking you out (Cross Guild)

Mihawk

Having first been introduced to you within the workplace, he didn’t really think much of you. He saw this business as something that should remain as such, meaning you were kept on the backburner of his subconscious, though he kept the flame under you burning ever so dimly, allowing you to burn an unforgettable image of yourself in him.

The flame of interest started small for him, burning brighter and hotter as each day passed. With time feeling as if it were standing still when you were around, it dawned on him that he had genuine feelings for you.

However, just because he was sure he had these feelings didn’t mean he was confident they’d be reciprocated. Before fully pursuing you as a romantic interest, he deemed it necessary to observe and learn more about you to get a good reading on how you felt about him.

During one of the quiet moments you spent together engrossed in your own activities, he looked over at you as if wondering what he was about to admit would put you off wanting to be around him anymore. That being said, he took this pleasant time you were sharing to give you a glimpse of what you meant to him.

“Would you care to join me for dinner one night?”

With excitement dancing in your eyes, it was slowly eaten away at. You could feel your heart starting to ache from a creeping fear, one that could very well lead to your heart getting broken. The weight of the situation was apparent by the worry you held on your face.

Not knowing what was troubling you, he gave you a gentle reminder that you were under no obligation to accept his offer, “Don’t feel as if you have to say ‘yes’ to please me.”

Although his voice was kind and supportive, it felt like a dagger nonetheless. You didn’t want him to think you weren’t interested, so you gave him an explanation.

“It’s not that,” you began. “I just think you should know that I’m trans.” With so much feeling at stake, the moment of silence between you telling him and him responding was deafening.

“I appreciate you telling me, but with all do respect that doesn’t make a difference. You’re still you at the end of the day.”

Even with maintaining that stoic demeanor, his delivery alluded to the affection he had for you rising within him.

“So, will you be joining me for dinner?”

With a sigh of relief you gladly accepted.

Crocodile

A man that many feared but few actually knew—that was the way he liked keeping it. But when that sad excuse of a business partner introduced you to him, that may have been the first time he thought Buggy had made a good choice.

Though the moments you were around each other were scarce at the beginning, he gradually requested your assistance more and more often. You were admittedly nervous to be spending so much one-on-one time with him, but as time passed and you both got used to the idea of being around each other, things felt less precarious for you.

Despite your nerves becoming more at ease, his were doing the opposite. Those walls he’d put were beginning to crumble, letting a sinking feeling settle in his chest. When he sat alone, he pondered the marvel of the effect you had on him. “Would it be worth it? Telling you that he’d come to have feelings for you?” He asked himself. Putting his cigar out, he came to his decision.

The next day came with tension in the air, which was his doing. After mulling over the right approach and weighing the pros and cons of confessing, now it was time to put his guarded heart on the line.

“There’s a nice restaurant not far from here. I’m going there on Saturday if you care to join me.”

The invitation was purposefully left ambiguous and open-ended, so as to maintain some sense of control over the outcome.

Such a request took you off guard; you stood there for a moment like a deer in headlights, making his cheeks prickle with a blush from the rising embarrassment.

“Forget it.” He was quick to retract his offer.

“No, I-I want to, it’s just…” When he cocked his eyebrow at you, the reason you gave was far from anything he was expecting. “I’m trans and I just didn’t really know how to tell you.”

It felt as if he was staring into your soul before finally responding with a slightly cold, “You had me worrying over something like that? That doesn’t matter to me.”

In spite of his icy exterior, his offer still stood, which you happily took him up on.

Buggy

When he first hired you, it was partly out of desperation. You seemed competent enough to help him maneuver through a lot of the mess he always found himself in. You were clever and fun to be around, not to mention cute. That final thought slipped past him so suddenly that he hadn’t even noticed his fondness for you growing over the time you’d been working there.

With all the hours you spent together, it was no wonder he was growing attached to you. He felt at a crossroads: wanting to see where the path with you would take him, while the other was muddied from doubt of you returning his feelings.

However cautious he felt about approaching you, his feet carried him to you. When you noticed him idly standing in the doorway, he buried the real reason for him being there.

“I just came here to make sure you were keeping up with your work,” he said with feigned confidence as he pretended to examine the job you’d done.

He knew that you were the only one who could see through that mask of his, but seeing as he only put that mask on when he was hiding something, you asked him gently, “There isn’t anything else you came to ask me?”

His heart skipped a beat and his eyes locked on yours, proving your hunch. “Well, I just think you’ve been slacking a bit and came to do some quality checks.” Despite the stance he took, his voice was shaky.

“And I…I thought I would,” he cleared his throat. “I thought I’d ask you out.”

When your immediate response wasn’t over the moon with joy, he backpedaled. “Nah, you know what? I don’t want to. It’d be too much trouble come to think of it.”

It was all happening so quickly that you barely had a chance to digest the situation. With him brushing off all your stuttering attempts to talk to him, the sentence, “I’m trans and that’s why I hesitated,” poured out of your mouth.

He turned on his heel to look at you, firstly to see if you were playing some kind of weird joke on him, and secondly if you were serious to think he’d reject you for that.

“I don’t care about that,” he huffed.

Watching the color come back to your face and the light in your eyes return made him acknowledge the vulnerability he felt around you—the way you made him feel like no one else could. Once you gave him the answer he was hoping for, things seemed just a tad less scary.

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written-in-flowers · 2 years

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Hi! I really love your Otto-writings

Just imagine…

You (female reader) wake up in the night and someone (daemon / Otto / aegon / aemond) is sitting by your bed... drunk and sleepless…

AN/: oooh I liked this one. I almost made the nsfw route with this one, but I've been feeling soft lately, so I made it fluffy. I hope you like it!

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Targ!Reader (sister-wife, so incest)

***

The Night Before The Rest of Our Lives

It began with a feeling. Your subconscious mind tapped your shoulder to wake you from a dreamless sleep. You knew the hour was late by the pitch blackness outside, and the stillness of the world around you. Yet, even with your eyes shut, you knew something was wrong. Your body instinctively curled into a fetal position as the strange sensation crept over you. Through blurry eyes, you caught a faint orange-yellow glow of a lantern casted on the wall across from you. Your maids doused the fireplace hours ago, and you’d personally put out the candles. Either someone came back and accidentally left it, or someone broke into your room. But, then you remembered the feast, and you knew who it was. Your body suddenly relaxed, and a smile crept on your face.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping, Brother?”

You rolled over to see Aegon sitting at the table slouched in the chair. He wore a vest with the lacings loosened, a long shirt, brown breeches and boots still. You could tell by the pitcher and wine cup, he’d continued drinking long after the celebration feast ended. Hours ago, you and him sat in the grand hall of the Red Keep the eve of your wedding day. You danced, sang, drank and ate together. You both were the young, happy couple everyone toasted and congratulated. For once, people celebrated a happy union, instead of a political one. You’d gone to bed when the feast ended, but it appeared Aegon kept it going on his own. Aegon sitting slumped in a chair with a wine cup in his hand wasn’t unusual to you. In fact, you expected it of him.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he muttered. “Mother was talking to me…something about marriage and duty and honor…”

“Marriage, duty and honor?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, looking into his wine cup, “I tuned her out halfway through. I don’t see what the fuss is all about. We’ll be married tomorrow.” He frowned when he realized his cup was empty. You watched him feel around for the pitcher handle, and focus on pouring into his cup. You heard him groan disappointedly. “You have any wine left in here?”

“No,” you answered, trying not to laugh at him. “I drank it all.”

“What? Without me? Your older brother and your betrothed? Shame!” He let the empty cup fall to the floor and sat back in the chair again. “This time next week, you’re going to have two reasons to respect me.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I’ll be your husband as well as your older brother,” he nodded sagely. He looked around your table to see another wine cup. He reached for it and frowned when he upturned the empty cup. “And as your brother-husband, my first demand is that we have at least two jugs of the best wine in our bedroom. That way, we can get drunk together and then have long, passionate, ravenous sex all night.”

You laughed at his statement, “So, you’re telling me you’ll only lie with me when you’re drunk?” you pouted and batted your eyes.

“Well,” he thought for a moment, “Maybe not entirely drunk…Reasonably drunk…A drink-or-two-or-three drunk, if you will.” He gave up his quest for wine, and remained in the chair. “But, we’ll definitely still have wine in our room. Perhaps we can spill it on each other and lick it off.”

This is how you knew he was drunk: he’d speak very plainly about the obscene, lewd acts he wanted to do with you. You sat up in your bed, knees drawn up to your chest, “Why are you in here, Aegon? Mother’s sleeping in the next room, and she’ll be furious if she finds you in here.”

“Psh,” he scoffed, “As if I care. You’re going to be my wife in…about nine hours or so… Why does it matter if I sleep in your room with you?”

“She doesn’t want you ‘impregnating’ me.”

“If I wanted to ‘impregnate’ you, Sister, I’ve had plenty of opportunities before now,” he said. “Like when we went to Lady Laena’s funeral on Driftmark and you let me put my hand up your dress, or the time you caught me knocking one out in my room and decided to give me an extra hand…In truth, Y/N, it’s you she should be worried about. Not me.”

“I’m afraid she does worry for me.”

Your mother, Queen Alicent, made it clear on many occasions that your actions did not befit a Princess. You liked gambling, fighting, and drinking. You snuck out at night with Aegon to brothels, taverns, pot-shops, markets, and cock-fighting pits. You liked living. You hated the stuffy, silent, reflective life your mother wanted you to live; constantly praying to The Seven and living by the moral codes of pious men in scratchy robes. You and Aegon must always be upstanding, respectable, perfect images to comply with the family image your mother spent years curating for the realm. Any time you and Aegon were caught together anywhere, she scolded you both. Princesses are not supposed to get drunk and dance half naked in a brothel. They’re not supposed to let their betrothed fondle their breasts, or stick her hand in his pants as he did so. You did everything she asked of you. You loved her, and you did your best to please her. You went to her lessons, learned the right skills, and played the princess role perfectly. Aegon made it difficult for her, because he’s much more stubborn than you, so you tried being more compliant than him.

“She purposefully moved into the chambers next to mine to spy on me,” you said. Judging by the night sky, your mother is most likely fast asleep and won’t hear either of you. “She’s been sending that nosey bitch Talia in here to ‘check on me’,” you rolled your eyes.

Aegon smirked, “I don’t think Talia’s going to be coming in here…”

“Why?” you eyed him curiously.

He dug into his pocket and withdrew a key hanging from a white ribbon. You both stared at each other and then laughed. “Your deviance never ceases to amaze me, Aegon,” you said, shaking your head and giggling. “How’d you get it?”

“I bumped into her while walking down the stairs, and picked it from her pocket unawares,” he said, twirling the key between his fingers. “They all think I’m a drunken idiot. I used to hate it, but I realize it comes with lots of benefits.” He turned his head towards the door nearby, then back to you, “They all look down on me.”

“They can’t look down on you. You’re a prince. They’re servants.”

“They do anyways. They all act like they’re better than me. I see how they look at me when I come back from the city; how they try hiding their disgusted eyes and whisper behind their hands. I know they whisper about me. They talk about how I’m not worthy enough to be Father’s heir, how I bring shame to our family, and why does Mother even bother with me?” you saw the despondency in his eyes as he studied the key. You watched him slide the ribbon between his fingers, threading it through the hole at the top. “They act as if they’ve never gotten drunk or fucked a whore in their lives.”

“I’m quite sure at least some of them haven’t,” you said.

“Then they should try it. Perhaps they won’t be so judgemental then.” He continued playing with the key, “It’s why I love being with you. You don’t look down on me. Everyone in our family acts like I’m a nuisance…everyone but you.” He looked back at you, “I can be myself with you.” He hesitated, eyes gazing over your face before he said, “I hope you feel the same?”

“Of course I do, you idiot,” you smiled. “What could make you think I don’t?”

“Aemond.”

“Aemond?”

“And that he’s a better match for you than I am,” he explained. “He’s always reading and training. He rides Vhagar. He…He wants to be king. You should be with someone who’ll be a good king; not a drunk like me.”

You slid off your bed and walked over to him. Aegon let you sit in his lap to hug him around his neck. “Aemond might be tall, smart, and strong, but he’s also a complete twat. He’s not as fun as you.” You looked down at him, pecking his lips softly, “You’re not the only one they look their noses down at. I’m a princess. I’m supposed to be graceful and virtuous like Mother and Helaena. I learned all the skills Mother wanted me to have: I can play the harp and pipe. I can speak three different languages. I can recite religious texts backwards and forwards, and still, it isn’t enough. I know what they say behind my back,” you twirled one of the strings of his vest idly. “They call me a…”

‘Whore’. You’ve never touched another man besides Aegon in your life, yet those little rats in the kitchens called you that. Aegon saw the embarrassment in your eyes, and Aegon cupped your chin.

“You’re not a whore,” he said softly. “You’re a lady…You just like having a bit of fun from time to time. It’s nothing different to what they’d do if given the chance.”

He put his hand around the nape of your neck to pull you close and kiss you. Aegon’s kisses, while full of wine or ale, sent a comforting warmth through you. Suddenly, only Aegon existed in the world. Your hand went through his silver blond locks, fisting some of it to keep his head in place while you kissed. His lips caressed yours open, and his tongue slid between them.

“Can I see them?”

“What?” you laughed, your cheeks heated up. “No, Aegon. Someone might walk in here any minute.” It’ll be harder for Talia to prove anything if you’re both still dressed.

“She won’t. I locked the door behind me when I broke in,” he insisted. His hand left your neck for the neckline of your chemise, “Come on,” he teased, giving it a small tug, “Just a peek? I miss them so much.”

“You’ll see ‘them’ tomorrow.”

“That’s too long,” he whined, peppering kisses on your throat. You giggled at the rough hairs tickling your skin. “Come on, be reasonable,” he continued whining, “I have not touched or come after you for a fortnight. Do I not deserve a reward for my restraint?”

“Restraint? Mother caught you looking through my keyhole a few nights ago!”

“And I could have walked in and finished you off, but I didn’t, did I?” he reasoned. His expression changed back to flirtation, “Not that you would’ve minded. I knew what you were doing in here, you naughty little girl.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you replied innocently. “I was in here reading like any normal princess would be after a long celebration.”

“Oh yes, ‘reading’. You were reading that book you bought from the Lysene girl, and touching that sweet,” he licked his lips, “Warm cunt of yours.” He slid a hand on your thigh, your dress riding up with it. “I saw you looking at one of the pages, your legs spread and your hand between your thighs. I couldn’t see much, but Gods, I could hear you.” You shuddered, feeling his bare hand on your thigh, trailing up and down it while he kissed the other side of your neck. “I wanted to walk right in here and give my beautiful wife a hand.”

“But then Mother came.”

“But then Mother came,” he repeated irritably. “Please, Y/N, let me see them. I promise it'll only be a peek."

"Don't you want to make tomorrow special?" You suggested playfully, enjoying his pleading. "It will have been a full fortnight that you haven't touched me. Wouldn't it be more rewarding?" You brushed your lips over his before kissing him.

"It's already tomorrow," he whined in your kiss.

"Then you only need to wait a few more hours."

Realizing he wouldn't be getting his way, Aegon left his hand on your thigh and rested his head on your shoulder. He'd drunk his weight in wine, rendering him incapable of arousal to begin with, yet the idea of making him wait longer amused you. It was nice dangling yourself over him, watching him drool for you. He occasionally kissed your neck or gripped your thigh, but he knew you'd never give in.

"I can't wait until you're mine," he slurred, sloppy kisses down your chest. "Then, I can have you whenever I wish."

"Oh? Whenever you wish, eh?"

"Yes," he said, lips on your breast, "I'd be your lord husband, and as my wife, it'd be your duty to let me have you as I please."

You laughed, "And what about me?"

"What about you, hm?"

"What if I," you pulled his chin up to look at you, "Want to have you as I wish?"

"There'd be no complaints from me, I assure you, sweet Sister," he gave a lopsided smile and kissed you. "However you like," he continued, "Anywhere you like."

"Aegon…"

"I'll be as rough or as gentle as my lady wife wishes," he said. He cupped your breast through your dress, smiling at your soft gasp.

You shut your eyes as his lips went further down your chest. He hadn't shaved, so the rough hairs on his chin scratched your skin. You liked it. You felt warmth surging between your thighs at the touch of his hand on your thigh. His hot mouth kissed right over your nipple, his teeth grazing it through the fabric. The gentle touches almost broke your resolve, but you withstood it.

"No, Aegon," you forced him to stop. "Is it even getting hard?"

"Not really," he huffed, resting his head on your shoulder. "It must be the wine…my least favorite thing about it…" he nuzzled your neck, smiling when it made you giggle. "Mother said she's surprised we even waited."

"She must've believed I'd be with child by now. I suspect she worried we'd end up in some sort of scandal that would rock the very foundations of this castle. Imagine it, Aegon," you whispered, "A princess who mothered bastards."

He smirked at your meaning. "That would be absolutely scandalous," he agreed, "So much so that our father will cut out the tongue of anyone who dares to speak the truth, even when it sits in his face, white with dark curly hair instead of dark with silver hair."

Your older sister, Rhaenyra, was your father's favorite child. Allowed to skip about and do what she pleased, nobody was surprised when her three sons turned out to have none of the typical Targaryen features. Even though their father and mother both had silver hair and violet eyes. Everyone knew. People are not blind. You only needed to look at Jaceryes, Luceryes, and Joffrey to see the truth. Yet, despite her obvious treason, your father turned a blind eye to her activities.

Though, he certainly never ignored yours.

"Did you see them tonight?" You asked.

Rhaenyra and her sons, like so many other lords and ladies of the kingdom, were invited to celebrate you and Aegon's wedding. A week-long event of feasts and tourneys leading up to the big day, which would end with a banquet of dishes, wine and cake at the end. She'd arrived from Dragonstone with her sons and second husband, Daemon Targaryen. You recalled how happy your father seemed when she approached, smiling and kissing her cheeks. He doted on her sons, who'd grown so much since you last saw them. Your heart couldn't help breaking. He never looked at you that way. Whenever your father addressed you, it was to scold or enforce a matter on you. He'd simply said, "You look lovely, dear," when asked if he thought his daughter looked beautiful. The sting hurts no matter how many times you pretend otherwise.

"Don't," Aegon's voice broke you from your thoughts. He took the hand playing with the lace, and said, "Don't. He's a rotting bag of flesh and bones who doesn't even know what day it is. Don't let him get in there," he prodded your temple until you laughed. "You were beautiful tonight. Everyone said so when you walked into the hall." He gave your hand a soft squeeze, "And you'll be all anyone talks about tomorrow…I think…I wouldn't know. You won't let me see your gown."

"I want it to be a surprise," you insisted. You pressed your lips to his again, "Come sleep with me."

"Oh, I'd love to," he smirked, "If only we’re both naked."

"You can be nude, if you like," you sneered back, standing from his lap, "But I'm feeling a bit of a chill. I might keep my dress on."

"You're a cruel woman, Y/N."

You returned to your bed and delighted in watching a drunk Aegon clumsily remove his clothes before you decided to help. While he made several attempts to undress you as well, you managed to navigate his lustful advances and plopped him into the bed. You’d never ever tell him that seeing him naked did bring back that familiar tingle; he’d never let it go if you did. Finally undressed, Aegon slipped underneath your covers and wrapped you in his arms. The coldness of the bed disappeared in his presence, and the emptiness of the room vanished. As the lantern slowly died out, you listened to Aegon gradually drift to sleep beside you. Tomorrow, you’d be in this bed as man and wife. Tomorrow, Aegon won’t be your silly fool of a brother, but your husband as well. One day, if the Gods are cruel, he’ll become king and you’ll become queen.

What a mess that would be.

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