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wooahaes · 1 year

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under the sun [joshua]

pairing: non-idol!joshua x gn!reader

prompt: darl+ing inspired fic.

word count: 11.4k~

warnings: slightly suggestive at the very very end, but its left up to interpretation whether anything happens!! (its just two idiots in love making out for a minute). so, so much skinship and platonic-ish kisses between joshua and reader throughout. depictions of nightmares + mentions of vague illness and injuries within said nightmares. food mentions. more straight forward, flirty joshua throughout fic. mentions of joshua being mr gentle sexy.

daisy’s notes: men i am down bad for after writing this........ also sorry to anyone who asked to be tagged but wasn’t: several names didn’t pop up when i tried to @ them !! (plus tumblr for some reason hates when i try to have a taglist so if it DOES show that u were @-ed but didnt receive a notif, im so sorry!! ive had this issue for a while and i have no idea how to fix it...)

< day 3 || masterlist ||

summary: It all starts when you wake up in a field without a name or any memories to define yourself with. Thirteen men take you in as one of their own, and slowly you begin to wonder what is going on within this world… and between you and one of them.

It wouldn’t be wrong to say that Joshua already had a soft spot for you.

This, however, was normal in his eyes. Every time a new person came from maybe either Soonyoung or Wonwoo onward, Joshua found himself doting on people a little extra. When Jun came, it simply felt like they were a tiny group of people living together. But something about that number ticking over from four to five or five to six felt... More, in a way. Although he didn’t dote heavily on Soonyoung, or Wonwoo for that matter, his affections were obvious from day one. The amusement he found in Soonyoung’s jokes, the gentle way Joshua made sure to keep Wonwoo (and later Jihoon, Minghao, and occasionally Hansol when he wasn’t feeling the chattiest) acknowledged in conversations (never forcing them to speak, but making sure they felt regarded as a member of the group), his friendly competitions with the others... He found ways to make sure people felt involved. Jeonghan was better at listening and giving advice, Seungcheol’s job was to lead, and therefore Joshua kept people feeling loved. Whether that be with casual conversation or the occasional mischievous prank he pulled. With you, he expected more of the same: he would dote on you in the beginning, and then it would fade into that same love and care he provided everyone with. Truthfully, Joshua enjoyed caring for people. There was a reason he was called gentle sexy, after all (... even if it was semi self-imposed).

And at the end of your first week living with them, Joshua saw how stressed you were becoming for one reason or another. So he decided he’d get to the root of the problem sooner rather than later. Once he finished hanging laundry with you and the others, he offered up a little picnic lunch--just the two of you. He’d packed up the sandwiches someone else (Mingyu, he thought) had made, and sliced fruit for you. All that was left was for the two of you to find a nice spot to sit in. He carried his bag with food and water bottles inside of you, while you had been tasked with the very important job of carrying the blanket he’d found for you.

He’d suggested the spot the two of you eventually settled into: half underneath the shade of the tree, and half underneath the sunshine. He spread out the blanket for two of you, gazing up at the cloudy sky above for a moment. He looked at you after a moment, gently patting the spot next to him. Yet when you sat down, he didn’t notice the way he slightly shifted to be closer to you without much thought. It felt... natural in a strange way.

“Like my second day,” you mused aloud at one point as Joshua was pulling the securely wrapped food from his bag. He looked up with a hum, but realized what you meant a second later: the two of you had lazed together under the sky that day, too.

His fingers grazed against your own for a moment, acutely aware of how the side of your hand pressed against his own that day. “It wasn’t that long ago,” he gently teased, a warm chuckle escaping his throat. “But you already fit in with us.” Just like we knew you would, he wanted to say, but he held back. Would that be a little too bold to say...?

“I do?”

He smiled. “You do,” he said, his hand already finding a home with your own, your fingers already lacing together with his. “I wouldn’t lie. I think we all care about you a lot, even if it’s in different ways.”

He could see the way you bit back a thought. Absentmindedly, your thumb brushed over his.

“Even Jihoon and Minghao,” he told you. He noticed the way you raised your eyes, already caught. And oh how cute your expression was. Maybe he’d catch you in silly little moments like these again if he could see that wide-eyed look again. “They’re just taking their time. They were like this with Seungkwan and Chan, too.”

It didn’t take you long to piece together the missing name there. “What about Hansol?”

Joshua’s eyes seemed to light up a little as he smiled. “Jihoon liked him almost immediately,” he said, “but he’s the exception. Jihoon likes you enough, and so does Minghao. They just take a little longer to warm up to people.”

“What about Jun?”

“Jun’s looking out for you, too,” Joshua said. “He’s also a little quieter about it. But... you know that Chan likes you. So do Hansol and Seungkwan...” His thumb ran along the side of your hand. “And so do I.”

He could see a flustered smile cross your lips, and you turned your face away from him, looking to the sky instead. But you finally spoke a tiny, “Thank you,” a second later. He laughed a little, warm and vibrant, at how adorable you truly were.

“So... What else is inside that cute head?” He smiled at you, tilting his head as though it’d allow him to peer inside and see said thoughts. “Anything new?”

Your smile slowly dropped, and you let out a quiet sigh. “Nothing so far.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” he said, gently squeezing your hand. “It takes time. I think once you stop worrying about it so much, it’ll come to you.”

With another sigh, you turned back to face him again. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“It’s easy after a while,” he said, pulling his hand free from your own. He reached for the sandwiches he’d brought the two of you, offering one up. Your fingers grazed his again when you accepted it, and he turned his attention to unwrapping it slowly. “When you’ve been here as long as some of us have... You learn to accept each day for what it is.” He went quiet, staring down at his meal.

And you watched as proud, bright, warm Joshua turned into someone... quieter. Like the volume had been slowly turned down, number by number, until his melody could barely be heard while still being there. He said nothing for a moment, just staring blankly, brows drawing together as he gathered his thoughts.

“Sometimes... I pray,” he finally said. “And I think it helps. I grew up Catholic,” he looked back up at you, “That much I remember. I remember singing in church....” He went quiet again for a moment, idly pulling at a piece of the bread. “Singing’s really important to me, actually. Sometimes I don’t know why, but it is.”

You weren’t sure what to say to someone so pensive, so quiet compared to the version you knew most days. So you opted for what you knew was true: “You’re good at it.”

A smile crossed his face, even if it didn’t fully seem to be him again. “You’re sweet,” he said at first, eyes meeting yours after a second. This time, his smile actually met his eyes. “Thank you. But you should hear Seungkwan. And Seokmin, too,” he said, taking a bite of his sandwich, as if to distract himself from whatever thoughts had washed over him before. “Jeonghan and Jihoon are talented, too,” he said after swallowing his bite, “but you really, really need to hear how Seungkwan and Seokmin sound--especially if they sing together.”

That seemed to bring back the Joshua you were most familiar with. Not that you didn’t like this quieter, more thoughtful version of him: you thought that maybe, in time, you would learn how to speak to him in moments like that. It was strange, though... He always seemed so carefree so far, most days enjoying the freedom that this life could give him. It almost felt as though he was made for it. That wasn’t to say that you didn’t think Joshua could have those quieter moments: you were sure everyone there had them--even Soonyoung, who seemed to carry the most laughter with him, or Mingyu, who’s silly, goofy nature spoke for itself most days. Yet with Joshua... It felt as though you weren’t prepared to see that side of him peek out so soon.

It was cute, though, to see the way he happily hyped up the others and their talents. Soonyoung loved to dance--as did Jun, Minghao, and Chan, and Joshua was happy to sing the praises of everyone there. He’d let you see too much of himself, too soon. Maybe when the two of you were closer (and, truly, he hoped you would be), he would confide in you the way he confided in Jeonghan. He hoped you would feel the same safety in confiding in him, too: he might not be as warm as Jeonghan seemed to be, but he wanted to give you a warm place to land if you needed it, arms wide open and ready to embrace you when you needed it.

That night, he woke up from a far too vivid dream. The memory seemed to fade away soon, slipping from his grasp as he sat forward, a hand running through his hair. He’d been somewhere... crowded and loud, making his way through throngs of people. He remembered being approached, yet the face seemed... blurry and distant. Like he should remember it, but something in his mind refused to let him make out specific features.

“Joshua?” Jeonghan quietly mumbled from beside him, sleep laced into his voice. He stifled a yawn, reaching out to lay a hand on his arm. “Are you alright?”

He nodded, slowly settling back into bed as he turned onto his side. “Just had a weird dream,” he said. “Nothing bad. Don’t worry.”

Jeonghan accepted the answer easily enough, eyelids drooping shut as he snuggled back into the space next to him. He’d talk to him about it in the morning--no need to wake Jeonghan up over something so silly. He slipped back into slumber as easily as he had pulled his blanket back over him, and was left with nothing else he could remember that next morning. He made his way to breakfast with the others, stopping long enough to glance at himself in a mirror. He looked the same, so why did he feel so... Different?

He’d waved at you on his way in, and noticed your shy smile as you waved back before returning to your conversation with Seokmin. Joshua went to get a glass, his focus purely on getting a glass of water. Maybe that’d help settle him, centering him on something other than what he dreamed about last night. Seungcheol had stopped beside him, though, his own glass in hand.

“Everything okay?” He asked in a quiet voice. “I felt you jolt last night.”

“You did?” Joshua raised his eyes to meet Seungcheol’s. “Just had a weird dream. It felt... real.”

Seungcheol slowly nodded, taking in each word with care. “Like a memory?”

“I think so.” Joshua paused. Yet... The other memories never felt so vivid. Not like this. They felt real in the same sense, but what made this one feel so intense...?

He saw you again, giggling at something Seokmin had said, and he could see the way he pressed kisses into your cheek with a smile.

Well. There might be his why sitting right there. All that was left was to chase after it.

“Today, I’m going to teach you something very important.”

Joshua’s hand was holding yours as he walked alongside the river with you, more-so to guide you than his casual form of skinship. He’d invited you along with him for a small walk through nature--something he enjoyed doing on his own sometimes, but today wasn’t just leisure. He’d left you waiting in anticipation after he finally decided to break the news to you as to why he’d suddenly invited you out again barely a few days after your picnic.

“The art,” he said, with a purposeful pause to build suspense, “of living one day at a time.” He let go of your hand after a moment, slowing to a stop as he turned to you. “I think you could use it.”

He was slightly teasing you, and you could tell from the way he was smiling at you. Yet you agreed easily enough to ‘take these lessons,’ since he’d casually offered you a ‘once-in-a-lifetime deal’ when he invited you out earlier. If there was anything Joshua was good at, it was keeping you entertained. Whether that be through playing guitar or singing, or building up to moments like these... You definitely found him charming in plenty of ways.

“It’s hard,” he said, “but I learned a while back that it’s better to accept each day as they come. It helped me relax, at least--and it helped a few of the others, so I think I’m an expert now.”

Charming and cheeky. A deadly combination, in your humble opinion, but you liked Joshua’s company too much. If he would be the death of you, then c’est la vie... At least Chan would hopefully avenge you, maybe with Seungkwan and Hansol at his side.

(Not that you had any worries with Joshua: he was strong and safe in the same way the others were. The only fear you truly ever could have was of impending heartbreak, if you let yourself fall for his charms.)

Joshua drifted away from you, plucking a few flowers from the ground before he turned back to you. “There’s a lot of beauty in nature. I think I knew it before, but living here really makes you appreciate it a lot more.” He made his way over, carefully placing the flower behind your ear.

It was at this point that you realized he’d placed the other behind his own, and he smiled at the way the two of you matched now: little yellow flowers almost making it seem like the two of you were a pair. He turned, starting off talking about his own walks he goes on sometimes, enjoying the scenery even though he’s seen it an endless amount of times by now, and you followed behind him like a duckling.

Eventually, he found a spot to sit. He nodded toward the spot next to him, the corners of his lips slightly upturned as he watched you sink down into the spot next to him.

“What do you see?”

You raised a brow at him. What?

“Humor me,” he said. “Just tell me what you can see.”

So with a long exhale, you looked around, and began to list off things. The river ahead of you, stretching toward the lake at the end of this path. The trees that surrounded both of you, having reached the more wooded area. If you looked close enough, you could see fish underneath the water, scales shimmering in the sunlight that peeked through the trees. Tiny flowers dotting amongst the grass: some pink, some white... and others yellow, like the ones you and Joshua still had behind your ears.

Your eyes trailed him up. “I see you, too,” you said after a moment.

It earned a smile from him. “Well,” he said, “I see you as well. Now tell me what you can hear.”

Part of you wanted to roll your eyes. It felt like the kind of lesson you might have as a child learning about their senses for the first time, but you began to list off things nevertheless. The sound of water rushing past (and, if you listened closer, you could hear a fish leap and land in the water again), the sound of birds fluttering through the trees. Joshua’s breathing. The wind as it rustled leaves. Your own quiet breathing, too. Part of you wondered if you could hear the others, had you been close enough to home: the sound of Jun’s loud laughter, or Seungkwan ranting at something Soonyoung joked about...

And when he prompted you next, you continued on: you could smell the flowers, light and sweet on the breeze. Feel the way that the grass was poking into your skin, the feeling of the flower, weightless, behind your ear. The warm breeze as it kissed your skin. The warm feeling of his hand brushing against yours.

“That’s it,” he said in a low voice. “The art of living a day at a time.” He was smiling again, eyes twinkling. “Living in the present moment and accepting it as that. The book Wonwoo brought back called it mindfulness, but I prefer my name for it.”

You couldn’t help but smile back at him. Even if it was a mouthful... You thought you preferred his name for it, too.

The next day, you and Joshua were tasked with cooking dinner. Conversation always came easy with Joshua: even if you had moments of being unsure what to say, he could easily fill the air and keep things flowing as the two of you worked. He always seemed to use chores as a way of checking in with you, too, just to make sure you were adjusting well. He noticed how close you’d become with Seungkwan, Hansol, and Chan--although he’d noticed that a few others had a soft spot for you (namely Mingyu... and Seungcheol, but for the sake of his friendship, he’d leave his name out of it for now).

“Joshua?” You looked up from the veggies you��d been chopping for him, and he merely hummed in acknowledgement. “So... What started this whole ‘art of living one day at a time’ thing?”

He hummed to himself for a moment, mulling over the exact moment that led to it. He’d come up with the silly little name for it after he started practicing mindfulness, sure, but... “Sometimes,” he started, “I’ll get stuck in my own thoughts. It was maybe a few weeks before Jun showed up, but Cheol and Jeonghan took me out for a picnic. And--I dunno. We just sat together, just kinda observing how peaceful everything is.”

“So you had a picnic with your friends, and you started to appreciate... everything?”

Joshua nodded, not looking up from his work. “Yep. It helped.”

“Would you do that with me?”

He paused, turning to see that you’d grown more flustered at asking your question aloud. Before you could apologize and try to backtrack, he merely nodded, “Sure. I’d gladly steal you away for a picnic if you don’t mention it to anyone else.” He went back to stirring the pot, the scent of spices heavy in the air. “I like having alone time with you.”

His heart stirred at his own words, aware of what he meant: I like being the object of your attention.

Right as he went to apologize for being so forward, you spoke up, “Then you can’t tell anyone, either.“

Joshua’s eyes were shimmering as he turned to you again, sharing a smile between the two of you as he realized that maybe things weren’t so one-sided for him. “Then... We can call it a date. If you want.”

“And if I do?”

Oh. Oh. This felt... fast. “Then you can pick our spot.”

Two days later, Joshua let you take the lead, a basket and blanket in his hands as you lead the way outside. The two of you had agreed to a little picnic lunch together, to reduce any risk of someone trying to tag along with you. Everyone would be scattered now, doing their own things as Joshua let you take the lead. He could hear the sound of Seungkwan and Chan bickering in the attic as he climbed up and into the church, and the tell-tale sound of Hansol’s warm laugh at an argument that was anything but serious. The two of you had passed Mingyu and Wonwoo on your way out, and he’d seen Seokmin go searching for Jihoon with Minghao tailing alongside him. Some of the others must still be out, finishing up their chores for the day. Joshua saw Jun on the way out, making his way back inside with an empty basket from doing laundry in his arms, and merely gave him a small wave.

You guided him out and to the same shady spot he sat with you on your second day. Together, you spread the blanket out before sitting together, chatting idly for a while..

“Joshua?” You suddenly said. “Tell me what you can see.”

His eyes crinkled a little with delight. Oh, how cute of you. He began to list things in a calm, even tone: the trees that grow thicker down the path to the lake, the river that ran near the two of you (and the shimmering of scales that are easier to see now, with the sunlight hitting them), the pebbles that were pressed into the dirt. He could hear the sound of your breathing, leaves rustling, the babbling brook... And he could feel the plush fabric underneath the two of you, the warm breeze as it kissed his skin in a way he wished would be replaced by something (someone, his mind corrected) else...

And even though the two of you had moved on from that sense, he smiled as he looked at you: “And I see you.”

Over two weeks of you being there, and Joshua felt as though he’d fallen for you too quickly. Too easily. Maybe in another life, this would have taken far longer. He would have courted you the right way, with dinner dates and long walks where he had to build up the courage to ask if he could hold your hand (out of respect for you rather than insecurity for himself: not all people enjoyed the kind of casual skinship that Joshua often saw Seungkwan partake in with...well... everyone). Maybe he should have asked you on the walk back how you felt, exactly...Yet his confidence had dwindled slightly. He felt something for you, yes, but how was he to be sure that it was love?

So he’d give himself a little longer instead. Enough time to know for sure that the enamored feelings he was almost certain of were what he thought they were. Every time a new person came, there was always this honeymoon period of adoration for them. For Joshua, it was the warmth of a need to welcome and care for a new person, and he knew himself well: it’d only last a week or two, three at the most, before it became something comfortable in his chest rather than an ever present flutter that punctuated his every action. Even if his gaze would drift down to your lips (a sign, in his eyes, that this was not the normal love he felt for new people)... He needed time to be sure.

Barely into your third week of living with them, Joshua woke up to the sound of you panicking.

He was far from the first person awake, though. You had curled up across the room, happy to be in Seokmin’s warm embrace since he was feeling particularly cuddly tonight, and you’d startled several of the others closer to you. He jerked up, running a hand through his hair to comb it back to his face as he watched you panic. The others had already taken to comforting you to no success. Seokmin kept an arm around you, trying to calm you down while your words were slammed together in this endless dribble, like water from a faucet coming out all in one heavy blast. Chan had reached out, trying to take your hand and wipe your tears as you kept trying to talk about the dream you’d had. Seungkwan spoke over you plenty, alongside Minghao, as they all tried to get you to slow down and breathe. You could talk afterward, yet you didn’t seem to listen. All Joshua could tell was that you had fought with Minghao in this dream, and then you ran away and ended up hurt, terrified no one was coming for you.

He kicked off the blanket, pulling himself free from the space between Seungcheol and Jeonghan with ease. Several others had woken up at this point, too, and he could hear Seungcheol mumbling something to Jeonghan as he was roused, too. Joshua, on the other hand, was more focused on getting over to you, falling to his knees in front of you.

“Hey,” he said softly, “it’s okay. It’s okay,” he reached for your hands, and, through your tear-filled gaze, your eyes met his own. “I’m here--”

All within seconds, you’d begun to move in for comfort, and he easily pulled you into his chest. Soon enough, he had sunk down to where he was sitting, letting you sob into his shirt as he stroked your back. His head leaned against your own, eyes fluttering shut as he focused on comforting you.

“It’s okay,” he said again in that low, soothing voice, “I’m right here. Just breathe for me, darling, okay?”

As if the words finally broke through to you, this time carrying some meaning to them, you gave him a shaky nod before squeezing your eyes shut tight. Your breathing staggered, and Joshua began to take in slow, deep breaths with you. Just to make sure you didn’t feel like you were alone now. He raised his head as you kept breathing, and he looked around at the sea of concerned faces that surrounded him now. Some of them were still half asleep (Mingyu and Hansol, Joshua noticed, and maybe Soonyoung, too), but they’d gathered around. They were a community, after all. This was far from the first time someone had a bad enough dream to evoke such a strong reaction (Joshua remembered plenty of incidents right offhand), and it created this understood feeling between them all: we check on each other, and we go from there. If you didn’t want to talk, they wouldn’t force you to.

You had realized that you disturbed everyone soon enough, and already began to apologize over and over, trying to make up a good enough reason to justify getting so upset over a bad dream. Joshua gently shushed you instead.

“It’s okay,” he repeated again. “You just had a bad dream. It happens to all of us.”

Which was enough to prompt Chan into bringing up how he woke up with a scream his first week there. He couldn’t remember what the dream was anymore, but it was bad enough that the others had to calm him down, too. He thought it was something to do with his life before, but Joshua remembered what it was. Chan had dreamed that he’d been kicked out of the group because he failed them in some way. Seokmin reached over, taking your hand in his, gently running his thumb across your knuckles as he shared his own story: he fought with Mingyu early into the latter’s first days with the group, and had a bad dream a while after of the fight getting worse.

They shared their pain with you without reluctance. They were human, too, after all: they had bad dreams and bad mornings, and sometimes they’d wake up crying like this too. Joshua just cradled you to his chest the entire time, though, tracing slow circles onto your back as you listened. Despite the stories being shared, you didn’t share your own now that you were calm enough that you could get it across better. No one pushed you to, though, past Wonwoo’s gentle question of whether you wanted to talk about it more. You had shook your head, curling up closer to Joshua before saying that you felt better now, thanks to all of them. They’d all started to go back to bed, Seungkwan telling you to wake him up if you needed to talk; he would happily listen if you needed him (or the two of you could go on a walk, too, if that’d help).

Joshua gently nudged you to get your attention. “What do you want now?” He asked softly. “You wanna go back to bed? I can get you some water if you want.”

You shook your head. “Can... Can I sleep with you, actually? You holding me helps...”

The surprise of your request made him grow a little flustered. He’d always be open to cuddling with you, but for you to say something like that...

He nodded, though, and brought you back over to where he’d been sleeping. Seungcheol wordlessly shifted over to make room for you, already grabbing extra pillows and blankets to help make you as comfortable as possible. Soon enough, you were curled up in Joshua’s arms again.

Over your head, Joshua had met Jeonghan’s gaze. His eyes flickered down to you for just a moment, and Joshua...

Well. He knew what Jeonghan was trying to ask. He merely nodded, and he watched as his friend nodded in return, understanding. A moment later, he’d seen the way you shivered slightly, and Jeonghan slid a little closer to ensure that you would be warm between the two of them.

Joshua loved you. Plain and simple. And now he was sure that both Jeonghan and Seungcheol knew (as well as every other person in that room). Everyone but you, hopefully. If he was going to tell you soon (and he would, he knew he would if he thought he had a chance), he wanted to do it right. But only when you were ready for that kind of relationship with him.

(And maybe he should call it overconfidence, but... Joshua had a pretty strong feeling that you loved him back.)

As much as Joshua didn’t want to leave you the next morning, it was Mingyu who gently nudged him awake, asking in a low voice if he’d come help with breakfast. He agreed, watching you sleep for a moment longer after Mingyu left him, and he slowly untangled himself from him. When you began to stir away, he gently shushed you, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he told you to go back to sleep for a little longer. You’d ended up turning over, reaching over for Seungcheol, who barely roused before he cuddled a little closer to give you further comfort. Joshua pulled himself from his blankets, watching the wordless way that Jeonghan filled the space he was leaving, eyes meeting his for a second in a silent go on, I’ve got them.

Mingyu was already working on breakfast when Joshua came in, his conversation with Seokmin coming to a halt. The two greeted him casually enough, and Joshua was put to work soon enough.

“Josh?” Seokmin said after a few minutes, earning a glance from him. “You and Mouse...”

Joshua said nothing at first, working on. Oh. It must be obvious now, then. Is this something he’ll have to address with everyone? “We’re only friends.”

“We know,” Mingyu said. “That’s not what we’re asking.”

You don’t need me to say it out loud, Joshua wanted to say. Because they knew: everyone had to, right? Last night was just... proof that the initial affection he held for you within your first days never went away. That it merely blossomed into something stronger. Barely a few weeks into you living with them, and you’d somehow captured his heart so easily. He didn’t want to call it all-out love, because love took longer to sow. Infatuation fit better. He, for the lack of a better word between “infatuation” and “love,” liked you.. a lot.

He waited until everyone, save for you, had filed in for breakfast. They were quiet, a few whispers about you flying around the table, and Joshua... Well. Joshua wasn’t an idiot: he saw the concerned glances people kept sending him. The way no one addressed him, but kept clearly talking about him.

And then he finally spoke up, “Don’t tell them.”

No one spoke. They merely exchanged looks, all knowing at this point.

“Not now,” Joshua said. “I’ll tell them when they’re ready. I’m not putting that burden on them this soon.”

It was still tense, but Seungkwan was the one who finally looked up from his breakfast. “Joshua... I think they like you, too.”

He wanted to say something. Anything. His face grew warmer at someone actually speaking the thought aloud. He thought you did, too: but he didn’t want to define your feelings in his mind. It would set expectations on you that he wasn’t comfortable setting: if you liked him back, then he’d want to hear you say it out loud. Not now, of course, but when you were feeling better. He knew the effects of a shitty dream all too well.

Chan barely touched his food before he excused himself, saying something about taking a walk before he’d start on his share of the chores. Joshua saw the concerned look Hansol and Seungkwan shared, and the gentle nod toward where Chan had left that Seungcheol gave them: go on. The two excused themselves as well, getting up and following after him quickly.

Joshua wasn’t an idiot. He knew he wasn’t the only person who felt more for you. He knew Chan did. He thought Cheol did, too, but Joshua knew that neither would stand in your way of pursuing who you loved. Whether it be them or someone else, they would accept it and learn how to move past their feelings. Joshua would do the same, after all. He loved you and your happiness. And if you would be happier with someone else.. Then Joshua would support you wholeheartedly while he took the time to heal.

That’s what love was supposed to be, wasn’t it?

Something weighed in the pit of your stomach for most of that day. Everyone had been concerned at breakfast that morning (which, to be fair, hadn’t surprised you in the slightest), and you had waved them off. You weren’t ready to talk about your dream quite yet, not until you tried to focus on the center of it all. By some stroke of luck, you’d found Minghao painting by himself--sitting at a bare space of wall that’d only been painted green in preparation. He’d been painting a circle of blue, merely glancing up as you came closer before greeting you casually enough.

You slowly sank down next to him when he invited you to. “Um... Minghao?”

He heard the caution in your voice, and it made him lower his brush, turning to you. “Is something wrong?”

“Did... Did I do something?” You said slowly. “I mean. I don’t think I did, but--I had a dream that you were mad at me, and--and I just started overthinking and--”

“I’m not mad at you,” he said, plain and simple. For a moment, his gaze flickered past you, but before you could turn to see what he was looking at, he spoke up again. “If I was, you’d know. We’d talk about it eventually.”

Relief hit you all at once, and you let out a sigh. “Good...” You’d toyed with your sleeve, still feeling a slight nervous edge as you sat there with him. “I just... I had this dream where everyone seemed upset. But you--”

His gaze flickered up again, and then back to your face before he finally looked past you one final time. “Stop standing around and either sit with us or go.”

You turned, and Joshua had been lingering nearby. “Oh. Shua...”

“I can go--”

“No,” you said, “it’s okay. You can stay if you want. I don’t mind talking about it now.”

Joshua slowly nodded, making his way over before he sank down next to the two of you. He watched you for a moment, waiting to see if you would continue.

And soon enough, you did. “Anyway... I don’t know why everyone was upset, but you were the only one who spoke up and said whatever happened was my fault.”

Minghao furrowed his brow, looking up. “But you don’t know what happened?” When you shook your head, he continued. “I can’t say I wouldn’t be mad if something bad happened--”

“I ran away,” you said. “I don’t know why, but I just decided I’d leave for good since you all were better off before I came here.”

Joshua wasn’t sure what to say. He merely shared a concerned glance with Minghao, who, too, seemed to be at a loss for words.

“We love you,” was what Minghao said a second later, voice softer than before. “If something bad happened, we wouldn’t kick you out.”

“He’s right,” Joshua said. “We wouldn’t--”

“You didn’t,” you said. “I decided to just... Remove myself from the equation.”

That... was different, to be fair. But what could cause them all to be so upset that you felt that was the only option? To run away and live on your own instead? They were a community: no one should have to live a life of complete isolation. Seungcheol was always adamant about that after his own time alone.

“I know I wasn’t warm to you when you first came here,” Minghao said after a moment, “but I don’t want you to leave. You’re one of us now.”

With a slow nod, you let his words sink in. Us. Although you knew they’d all embraced you with open arms, letting you into this community, this family they had so lovingly come together to form... It still meant a lot to hear that you were a part of it. That they loved you.

Minghao looked back at the scene he’d been working on, pressing his lips together for a moment. “Do you have any ideas on what I should paint? I wanted to paint a pond, but...”

Joshua looked to you. “Mouse?”

“How about... ducks?” You suggested casually enough. “A little family of ducks.”

Minghao nodded after a moment, taking your suggestion into account before he began to wash his brush. “A family of ducks it is, then.”

You stood up, thanking Minghao for the talk as you went to leave him and Joshua behind. Yet Joshua rose quickly, following after you and stopping you once you were far enough to not be overheard by Minghao.

“Did you have any more bad dreams?”

You shook your head. “I didn’t. Thank you for being there, though. It felt like cuddling with you was all I needed.”

He chuckled. “Well,” he said, “all you have to do is wake me up and I’ll be there from now.“ He took your hands in his, swinging them slightly. “I always have room for you, alright?”

Your nose had crinkled when you smiled, giggling. “I’ll keep that in mind.” You slowly let go, taking a drifting step back. “Thank you, Joshua. I’ll keep it in mind.”

It was strange. Sure enough, you woke up that next night, sobbing again. It wasn’t as bad as the first time, but Chan had woken up Joshua for you when you asked him to. Instead of merely trying to soothe you back to sleep then and there, he glanced around before he gently pulled you to your feet, guiding you out of the room to make both of you a warm cup of tea. He sat next to you, watching the slow sips you’d take, cheeks still wet with tears. Despite the urge to go ahead and ask, to figure out what upset you this time, he let you have your space. The tea seemed to calm your nerves, and he merely waited for you to make the next move: if you wanted to go back to bed, he’d offer the spot next to you again. Or you could go back to Chan, who Joshua was sure was still lying awake, waiting to know if you were fine. When you finally lifted your head, meeting his gaze, you asked to talk about it.

This time, your nightmare was about Wonwoo. He’d fallen sick--really, really sick--in your nightmare. You swore you could still feel his feverish skin from when you were checking his temperature. It was almost as if he was going to die, and the thought of that had been enough to throw you out of your dreams and back into the reality you were living in. Wonwoo was okay: that was something you could see when you first woke up. Chan had stirred, asking what was wrong, and you merely asked him to get Joshua.

“If it helps... No one’s ever been that sick before,” Joshua said, his hand on top of yours. His thumb grazed the back of your hand. “And we know how to take care of each other. I’m sure Wonwoo would have been okay.”

Something about his presence seemed to calm you easier than the others did. He sat with you a little longer until your cups of tea were empty, and soon enough he’d made a space for you once more, letting you curl up in his arms again.

The same happened the next night: Mingyu had burned his hand in that dream. The next, you were lost in the forest with an injured ankle and you were scared no one would come for you. In another, your shoulder had been injured horribly... And all Joshua could do was be there for you each night. Sometimes he’d make you tea, or the two of you would go on a short walk to clear your head, but it always ended up the same: with you in Joshua’s arms, feeling safer than you had been before. He would wake up the next morning, feeling the weight of your body against his, sleeping peacefully.

(You finally gave up after that night and started sleeping next to him permanently until you worked out whatever was causing these nightmares. Not that he was complaining: he liked having you close to him.)

Seungcheol had been watching you one night after dinner, while the group was all still together, biting his bottom lip. Joshua wondered if he thought he could figure you out had he stared intensely enough, studying your entirety as much as he could from his place across the room. Yet his calling of “Mouse,” had been enough to catch your attention, followed by, “are your dreams still bothering you?”

You looked up from the puzzle you were working on with Minghao and Seokmin, a little more flustered at the outright question. “Not really...”

“Aren’t dreams a subconscious thing?” Hansol said from his spot on the couch, curled up with Jihoon next to him. “Maybe you’re just worried about something.”

“I’m not,” you said, a little too quickly in Joshua’s opinion. “I just had a string of bad dreams. It’s nothing serious.”

“Are you sure?” Seokmin frowned. “You can talk to us--”

“I’m fine,” you said, standing up. “I’m gonna go wash up for bed.”

They let you go without a fight. No need to push you now when you were already starting to get upset. Joshua merely said he’d go try to talk to you, just to make sure you were fine--even if you weren’t ready to talk. He’d found you brushing your teeth, and you’d pouted a little at the sight of him in the entryway.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you said after spitting into the sink. “Maybe tomorrow, Shua.”

He slowly drifted closer to you. “That’s okay,” he said, slowly stopping next to you. “Do you know what’s bothering you, though?”

Reluctantly, you nodded after a moment. “I think I do. But... I don’t wanna think deeply about it before bed.”

He could understand that. “As long as you aren’t bottling it up,” he said. “We love you a lot.” He reached out to brush a stray hair back into place, and his fingers lingered at your temple for a moment before he drew his hand back. “I just want you to know that.”

“I love you guys, too,” you met his gaze. “Really, Joshua. I’m okay for tonight.” You leaned in, pressing a tiny kiss against his cheek. “Just tired from doing laundry with Soonyoung and Seungkwan earlier.”

He chuckled airily, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I understand. Just don’t be afraid to tell us things, alright?”

“I won’t.” You promised. “Goodnight, Joshua.”

With you heading to bed early, Joshua... knew what he needed to do. The group was starting to disperse when he returned, and he went ahead to stop Chan before he could go with the others.

“I was thinking about going for a walk,” he said. “Do you want to join me?”

Chan shook his head. “I’m good, Shua. Thank you--”

“Chan,” he said, a little more serious this time. “I think you should.”

Chan looked toward the others, and let out a sigh, before nodding. He understood what this was, and the two of them grabbed their shoes and began to make their way outside. Once the church doors were securely closed behind them, Joshua let out a sigh and looked up to the stars overheard, twinkling in the clear, dark sky... and then he nodded out toward the river. He and Chan walked in silence at first, making their way down the hill with slow, heavy steps, neither sure how to begin this conversation.

“I really like them,” Joshua said outright. “And I know other people do, too. In the same way, I mean.”

Chan didn’t look at him at first. “I know. I was there when you asked us not to tell them how you feel.”

“I just want to clear the air,” Joshua said, “because I know you love them, too.”

Chan met his gaze, and Joshua could see something (confidence, perhaps) waver in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, only to close it, looking away. “We’re all adults here,” he said. “I’m not going to treat either of you differently.”

“I know that,” Joshua said. “I trust you. But I don’t want any bad blood between us... and I don’t want to hurt your friendship with Mouse, either.”

With a heavy sigh, Chan shut his eyes for a moment, slowing to a stop. “As long as they’re happy, then I’m happy. I love them, Joshua, and I want them to be happy.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, turning away again to kick at a pebble along the riverside. “I’d be happy no matter who they love. It’s not like they can date all of us.”

“Can’t they?” Joshua said, only slightly teasing. “You know how we are with each other. I think if we all wanted that, we’d work it out.”

Chan’s face grew bright red, even in the low light. “Don’t say things like that!” He said, pouting, “I--I don’t want to think about it when they only like you.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “I mean it, though. We’re all more than just a group of people living together, though. Who knows,” he shrugged, “maybe in another life, we’d all be something together.”

“Maybe.” Chan sounded wistful as he stared off into the distance. “But they love you.”

But they love me, Joshua repeated mentally, turning the phrase over in his mind over and over. You loved him... “I think they do--”

“I know they do.” Chan said. “It’s kind of obvious now.” He pulled his hands from his pockets, looking back to the church. The two began their return up the hill, faster this time to get back inside now that they’ve cleared the air. “Are you going to talk to Cheol, too?” He paused, “I mean... It’s obvious. Isn’t it?”

Joshua let out a warm chuckle as he pulled open the doors. It was a bit obvious that Seungcheol felt... a lot for you. “It is. I’m not sure I’ll talk to him, though.”

“Why?”

“You admitted to your feelings,” Joshua said, following Chan inside as he turned to secure the door. “Cheol is the kind of person who’d rather deny them either until his feelings are gone or until the world ends if it meant they’d be happy. He’s just going to give them up--”

“And I will.” Seungcheol stood up from his chair, making his way over. “Are you two really talking about me?” He chuckled a little at the startled expression on Chan’s face. “It’s fine, Chan. Hansol mentioned the two of you left, and I had an idea why.”

“So you decided to just wait in the dark to scare us?”

Seungcheol shrugged. “I thought it’d be funny. And it was,” he nodded toward Chan, “very funny to see his face--”

“But that’s not fair!” Chan suddenly cut in. “Cheol... It’s not fair that you have to give up your feelings.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing?”

Chan stammered for a moment, “I--But--It’s not--” And then stopped, collecting himself. “It is, but... You give up a lot for us already.”

“They don’t love me,” Seungcheol said, plain and simple. A fact that he had long since accepted. “They love Joshua. We’re both giving up our feelings because we care about them and want to see them happy.”

Joshua felt his heart sink a little. While Joshua would have done the same for you... It felt awful to hear it said aloud, especially from someone who felt so much for you. “Cheol--”

“It’s silly,” he said. “How hard I fell and how fast it happened... But they love you, Joshua. And I know you love them, too.”

Joshua wasn’t sure what to say. “Cheol, I’m--”

“Take care of them.” Seungcheol tucked his hands into his pockets. “I know they’ll do the same.” He turned, musing aloud, “You know who to see about signing up to perform on their day...”

So Joshua nodded, already knowing what he needed to do. Chan walked ahead, following after Seungcheol. He needed to tell you soon, but... Surely, you could wait a little longer, couldn’t you? Just long enough for him to say it the way he felt he needed to. He made his way down, through the long passage until he came into the main room... Where Jihoon had been curled up, reading a book on the couch, humming to himself as he drummed his fingers against the edge. He wasn’t tired yet, but Joshua knew he wouldn’t go to his guitar until he couldn’t hold back anymore. He called out to Jihoon, already bringing up the song they’d been working on with Jeonghan and how he was going to try and finish it. He’d need help with getting it right, but...

Joshua knew how to make his feelings for you clear. Even if you couldn’t answer him in the moment, he’d sing it proudly, just so you knew where his heart fell.

Sometimes, all you had to do to find Joshua was follow the sound of a guitar being played. It always would lead you either to him or to Jihoon (or, rarely, Hansol), and once you came close enough, you’d be able to hear the soft way he mumbled his way through lyrics as he tried to figure them out. You peered around the entryway to the room he was in, watching the way he quietly worked on. He’d yet to notice you, and you watched the way his fingers moved to make each chord. Something about the way the sunlight flooded into the room and illuminated him made it feel as though you were looking in on a masterpiece. If only you could paint it--committing it to memory didn’t feel like it was enough to capture his beauty. Those soft brown locks fell into his face, eyes half-lidded as the lyrics he were working through (Should I talk to you or not? / I thought for a while...) barely audible. Was this, you wondered, what Eurydice felt when she looked upon Orpheus? Or how the stones felt when he traveled to bring her back, parting the way with ease, so moved by his song? Even if you couldn’t hear every word he sang, there was something so genuinely beautiful about how he seemed to lose himself in his music. It was similar to the way Jihoon did, too, as well as Hansol: they loved it so deeply, it was as though they were meant to sing in some way. Like music was one of their greatest loves, and it’d be cruel to abandon it completely.

Joshua looked up soon enough, though, and the music stopped as those pretty eyes softened when they saw you. “Hello, darling,” he called out, thoroughly amused that he had caught you observing him. It was just as love-filled as when he called you that during your second day there, too. “You can come in, if you want.”

As if bewitched to move from your place, you drifted across the room toward him, heart guiding you more than anything. Joshua always seemed to have room for you, no matter where he was: there was space by his side at dinner, at bedtime, or in conversations... and even now, when it was the two of you alone, he was happy to bring you in.

“Do you know how to play?” He asked, turning his attention to tuning his guitar--one of the chords must have been slightly off, since he’d kept trying to tune and retune it as he worked.

You shake your head. “Hansol offered to teach me once, actually,” you watched as he worked on, humming in acknowledgement.

“And?”

“I turned him down.”

Joshua lifted his head, this pretty, amused glimmer in his eyes. “You don’t want to spend time with Hansol?”

With a giggle, you gently bumped your shoulder into his. “Of course I do. I’d just... rather learn from someone else.”

He merely chuckled. “I see.”

Wordlessly, as he finally finished tuning the guitar, Joshua moved in closer to you so that he could reach around you. He brought in your hand to lay on the strings, the weight of it mostly on him still. His fingers are rough as they guide yours into place, and it made you wonder how long he’d been playing guitar.

“This is how you do Em...” His breath hit the back of your ear, and he paused to make sure you were pressing down the strings firmly enough. Then he strummed, and you could feel the vibrations through those strings. “Hear that?” He said, and when you looked at his face again, you could see this proud glimmer in his eyes. “And if you move your fingers to these chords,” he was already moving on, “you can get C...”

Joshua gently instructed you as he could. Em to C to G to D, always guiding your fingers and helping you keep them in place, and punctuating each with a strum to let you hear the difference.

“You’ll get better with time,” he said, “we’ll work on it.”

“So that means there’s a next time?”

He shifted away from you, returning to the position he’d been sitting in before you came. “If you want there to be one. I like spending time with you, you know.”

“Good.” You rested against his side. “I like spending time with you, too.”

He chuckled warmly. “I won’t tell Hansol you said that--”

When you whined his name, he merely laughed a little more, head tilting back as his eyes scrunched up with joy. Yet soon enough, he went back to what he was working on, no longer softly singing lyrics under his breath. He merely hummed along, trying to figure out the part he was working on.

“Y’know...” You began to toy with a stray strand of thread on your sleeve. “I talked to Cheol yesterday.”

“Mhm?”

For a moment, you weren’t sure how to bring it up. So you sucked in a quiet breath, before finally looking up to watch his face and try to gauge his reaction. “Joshua. What do you think love is like?”

He didn’t seem to hesitate. “I think it’s putting someone else’s needs before your own. Wanting to be close to them, too. Caring for them in a way that’s different than caring for other people.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he continued to speak:

“It’s the way you make me feel,” he said outright, voice softer this time, as if someone would overhear if he said it any louder. He watched the way you went wide-eyed in response, clearly not expecting him to be so forward. “I was going to tell you differently. I mean, I still will, but--”

“You love me?”

He grew surprisingly sheepish, averting his gaze before giving you the tiniest nod. Strong, warm, outgoing Joshua had been reduced to a shy schoolboy because of one little question from you. “I think I do.”

His heart hammered in his chest, and he felt as though you could hear it from how silent the room had become.

“Oh.” It wasn’t flat. Or disappointed. It was warm, and a little confused, but he could hear the tiniest thread of joy laced into it. You gently bumped against his shoulder again. “Do you want to know how I feel?”

“I do,” he said, “but...” He met your eyes again. “Will you wait?”

... Wait? You’d thought that waiting was a little pointless when the fourteen of you were living this life together. What if things were over tomorrow? Why wait forever? Wasn’t that what Seungcheol told you, too? That you shouldn’t wait to confess to him? “Why?”

“I want to say it right,” he reached out, setting his hand over yours. “Okay? Let me sweep you off your feet.”

He didn’t expect you to laugh so warmly, so full of love at how cute he truly could be. “Okay,” you said, this teasing lift to your voice something he thought you’d gotten from hanging around him so much. “Then do it.”

Joshua set aside the guitar. He stood up, turning to you and offering his hand, and he nearly chuckled at your startled reaction.

“Wait, now?!”

“Nope,” he smiled. “You’ll just have to wait for what I have planned.” He nodded his head toward the doorway, “But I don’t want to give up alone time with you yet. Do you?”

You didn’t, either. With a smile, you accepted his hand, and happily let him lead the way. Although a few others had greeted the two of you, inviting you into a game, Joshua merely told them that the two of you had already decided to go for a walk together. Before someone could try to tag along, he’d already swept you away, happy to steal you all for himself for a bit. Not that he was the only one being greedy: you liked having Joshua all to yourself, too. The way he loosely intertwined his fingers with your own, just enough to keep your hands together but not enough to trap you with him, was sweet. Although when you tightened your grip a little, just to squeeze his hand, he wordlessly squeezed back.

And if he let go of you, just to sit in a shady spot under a tree, who were you to say no when he happily offered the empty space next to him to you?

(Even if it would later net the two of you teasing from Jeonghan when he eventually found you together, hours before dinner rolled around, comfortably sleeping hand in hand.)

Celebrations were always a highlight of having this group. Yes, there was plenty of manual labor that came first... But it would always be worth it to see someone light up, getting attention dedicated to them for a night. If he could see the way you smiled every night for the rest of his life, he’d be happy with that alone. Chan had held your hand as he brought you in, bright petals filling the air as they welcomed you into the group officially. Seungkwan had placed the flower crown upon your head, lips grazing your cheek for just a second--just as everyone else did. Joshua let his lips linger against your skin for an extra second, and found himself feeling a little greedy for doing so... and for wishing that he could steal you away again. He nodded along as Seungcheol eventually did his usual toast, and smiled at the sight of Chan with his arm around your shoulder, ever the dutiful best friend to you. It was clear that everyone there loved you. If nothing else, Joshua knew that you would be loved no matter what. And if his love for you faded into something akin to friendship, it’d still be love nonetheless.

Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Seungkwan had performed their little song and dance routine--and Joshua had beamed the entire time. Maybe it was because you eventually settled into the seat next to him, letting him drape an arm around the back of your chair and press his side against yours. He loved the sound of your laugh, so full of genuine love for the three as they performed. Jihoon performed a medley of his songs--some new, some old, but these medleys were normal for him. Even with broken leftovers of songs he could never find it in him to complete, Jihoon made a complete experience for everyone to enjoy. Even Hansol had a song to perform, incomplete yet so uniquely him. Jun’s monologue had been written by him, Minghao’s art piece unveiled in the same dramatic flair that he always did...

Joshua pressed a kiss right in front of your ear. “Wait for me,” he said, getting up, “This is for you.”

He watched the realization cross your face as he drifted away, getting a guitar as Jeonghan came to join him. He let Jeonghan introduce the song as he prepped the stage: it was something the two of them had worked on with Jihoon, yet only recently finished together. Soon, he was sitting on one stool with Jeonghan on the other, already playing. You recognized the song soon: it’d been the one he had practiced when he told you that he thought he loved you.

I’m falling for you / falling for you... / it’s too late to escape

(And Joshua, in that moment, was certain he never wanted to. Especially when he fell asleep next to you, smiling at your sleeping face and caressing the white rose that Jeonghan had painted onto your skin.)

The song had been part one. Part two began the next day, before most of the others were asleep. He’d departed from your side early--not early enough to beat the others, but early enough that you were still comfortable in your bed. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, already moving to make his plans. He’d be making dinner with Seokmin and Mingyu tonight, and that meant he could get everything ready without looking too obvious.

It would be hard to avoid you for most of the day, but the others were a welcome help. Jeonghan would point you to him when the time came, but Seungkwan, Hansol, and Chan had been tasked with distracting you for the rest of the day. That meant staying away from the garden once chores were over, and letting him take the time to make everything perfect. From the string lights that Seungkwan had found for him to the plush blanket he spread out onto the ground... He had to make this perfect.

Seungcheol had found him while he was working. “You’re telling them, right?”

He smiled. “Is it so wrong to make it romantic?”

“No,” he said, leaning against a tree. “Like I told you... Take care of them.”

“I will--”

Yet he had let out a loud, long sigh. “Seriously... They’ve been staring at you for the past few days. How can you not say something sooner? I think I’d break if they looked at me like that.”

Joshua felt the opposite, actually: Seungcheol was in love with the group. It’d take a miracle for him to tell you how he felt, and even then... He’d probably take a thousand years to do it, too. Not when it made him look as though he was playing favorites. Joshua wondered, for a moment, if that was why Seungcheol seemed so okay to give up his love for you. To let you be happy with someone else. He pushed the thought away: maybe, in another world, Seungcheol wouldn’t have to struggle with his feelings... It made Joshua feel guilty, for a moment. But he reminded himself what they both knew: you loved Joshua.

(In another world, if you loved everyone alongside him... Joshua thought he could live with that. He loved everyone else, too, after all.)

He returned inside to bring out the picnic dinner, dessert packed as well in the form of sliced fruit. Especially strawberries, which he had carefully cut the tops off of and sliced in half. It was a simple enough gesture, but one he hoped you would love.

And when you finally came to him, you laughed. “Seungkwan refused to let me leave him until Chan finally told me what was going on.”

Joshua had been sitting on the blanket, but he rose to his feet, hands outstretched for you. “Does that mean you wanted to see me?”

“Silly...” You placed your hands in his. “I’ve been dying to talk to you all day.” With ease, you slipped your fingers in-between his. “About the two of us.”

“Does that mean there is a ‘two of us?’”

He could see you grow flustered, averting your gaze for a moment as you pressed your lip together. “What do you want?”

Joshua began to lower himself down, bringing you with him to sit together. He let go just long enough to push things aside, scooting forward so that he could be closer to you. He gently took your hands in his again, squeezing them as he gathered his courage to say what he needed to say. He knew he felt something for you, that you felt something for him, and yet saying it out loud was scarier. It made it more real.

“I want us.” He ran his thumbs over your knuckles. “I want to love you while we have the chance. I’ve thought a lot about it, and... I don’t know what brought us here. I-I don’t know what brought you to me,” he squeezed your hands, “and I’m okay with whatever it is, no matter what it is. Because you’re here,” he reached forward, fingers curving around your cheek, “and I’m with you. And... And I think that’s where we’re supposed to be.”

“Joshua--”

“I love you.” His heart was racing as he said it. The words felt at home in his mouth. “And it’s okay if you can’t say it back. But... I think I’m yours if you want me to be--”

You’d lunged forward, kissing him hard and nearly sending him toppling back. His hands fly to steady you, and he shut his eyes as he kissed you back. You threaded a hand through his hair, the other cupping his cheek as you smiled into this kiss. Deep down, there was a tiny urge to just lean back. To let you take over and kiss him and... more, if you wanted it. He let his mind go blank for a moment, savoring how soft your lips felt against his own... And then he remembered.

“I,” he said as he gently pushed you back, smiling. His hair was a little messier now. “I made us dinner. And as much as I want to kiss you again...” He cupped your face, “I don’t want it going to waste.”

It earned a giggle from you, and you pecked him on the lips one quick, final time for now. “Right,” you said, leaning away. “We have time.”

That the two of you did. He’d already begun talking about how he’d been working on this earlier with the others, just to make something that would hopefully taste delicious. The others would be leaving you alone tonight, which was ideal. He wanted to be the sole object of your affections tonight and tomorrow and every day that came after, if you’d let him.

“Maybe that makes me selfish,” he said, drawing you in once more, “I can’t keep stealing you away forever, after all...”

Yet your lips slanted against his, and it made him feel free. Maybe he was never the one stealing you away. After all.. You’d stolen his heart within days of coming here. How could he steal you when he was always yours? He’d have to learn how to share you with the others again, the tiny need to keep you close to him building inside him. Just to link you to one another, like puzzle pieces that have fallen into place...

Truthfully, as long as you stood side by side with him in life... He would be happy no matter where you were. Alone or with the others, all he knew was that he wanted you with him until the end.

general taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @cinnamoroxie [unable to tag?] @cherryredcheol [unable to tag?] @gyulbabie

under the sun taglist: @shiningstar-byulxx @twogyuu @strawberri-uyu @bbmyungho @thedeeppoet @heeseung-lover686 @jeonncafe @bfwonu @fifty-shades-of-mischeif @blackwhiteandshadesofgradient @dreamhannies @yourfavoritefreakyhan @amethyistheart @jeonnyread @nap-of-a-starr @anidolecalledaoife [unable to tag?] @vernxnsfool

#wooahaes.fic #wooahaes.uts #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #joshua x reader #joshua hong x reader #joshua x you

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pedropascallme · 11 months

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The Good, the Bad, and the Better

Pairing: gunslinger!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: "You stretched your legs when you got off the train, wondering how so much sitting could make your joints so sore. You had one bag, which was, truthfully, more than enough. You fit your entire life into the handheld leather case, and it felt both freeing and deeply, deeply woeful."

Content: Mentions of death, uuuh US cholera epidemic? gnc!Ellie because I said so. That's all for now. If I missed anything please let me know!

AN: hi I’m trying something new….felt the need to get Joel involved with a sexy lil cowboy AU. Full disclosure this was inspired by @qwimchii and the AMAZING gunslinger!ghost series she’s been writing (go support her work!!). Lmk if you guys want more of this in the future, I have….plans….for this story, to say the least, so treat it as an intro of sorts?

Jefferson Territory (Colorado), September 1847

The executor of your father’s will wore small bifocals, perched gently on the bridge of his nose. You bounced your leg, perhaps unladylike, but it was all you could do to steady your mind in the tight office that smelled of wood and purified alcohol.

You clutched your handkerchief to your chest, fresh out of tears to wring from your eyes and waiting to get the bequeathing over with. With breaths so deep they threatened the lace of your corset, you were able to look up at the executor, who had been kind enough to wait for you to give him the ok to continue.

“Alright, miss?” His voice was nasal, but not condescending. You nodded. “To my daughter, my only child and carrier of my good name, I leave my land in Texas; doing so in the hopes that she will live out her life there, with kin.”

The man stopped reading and looked up at you. That was all he had for you.

You hadn’t been expecting any more. Hadn’t even considered you would be getting any land—an unmarried woman with land, though, was sure to catch the attention of a gentleman, and you’re sure that your father had known that.

“Thank you.” You mumbled to the man, dry lips cracking under the moisture of the tears you had licked up. “Am I meant to sign anything?”

“No, miss.” He seemed sorry for you, and you felt a flare of anger at him in that moment; you were sick of hearing people speak to you so slow and soft, as if the weight of their words would knock you down and bury you along with your parents.

It hadn’t even been one year since the death of your dear mother, the woman who had brought you up like a proper lady, who had taught you your prayers, and the proper way to tie your hair up so that God would smile upon you along with the sweet church-going boy on the ranch next to your own home. Your family had been naïve in thinking that the cholera outbreak wouldn’t reach them in the west. When word first spread in the papers, it was a small number of people in the City of New York; your father was quick to dismiss the cases as God’s wrath upon those who didn’t appreciate the frontier, too busy with their fancy jobs and big-city values to go to church. But your mother fell ill that summer, vomiting and lethargic, and it wasn’t long until you watched the priest say his prayers over her coffin.

You admired your father’s will to keep going, until you didn’t. He kept busy, and you thought he would work himself to death—maybe that’s why he seemed so calm when he got sick, compared to the panic your mother had in her eyes in the days before she died; he knew he wouldn’t be on the mortal plane much longer, soul too deeply intertwined with your mother’s and ready to go where she went even in death.

So here you sat, in the same mourning clothes you had worn for the past 11 months, listening to this law man explain that he would be taking care of any other business that had to do with your father’s measly estate. You thanked him, giving him a polite curtsey before you exited his office and found your way back onto the street.

You didn’t have much left in Jefferson Territory. You made the short walk back to your family’s home with your head down, ignoring the coaches that passed on their routes and the women who spoke in hushed tones when they saw you walking all by your lonesome. "Poor thing", “just a girl,” “should have been married off sooner.” You wanted to bite back at them, tell them you’d rather die along with your parents than ever abandon your family and run off with some boy just to mother ungrateful children who would in turn run off themselves. You were happy, at least, that your parents had died in your presence; you couldn’t imagine the suffering had you been gone from their home, the pain after being there with them when they took their last breaths was bad enough.

You walked through the door of the house, careful to close the door and lock it how your mother always told you—even without her present, you knew she would appreciate the little things. You appreciated them, too, now, more than you had ever thought you would.

“Auntie?” You called out to your father’s sister, hearing a bustle in the kitchen and smiling for the first time that day; your aunt was a wild woman, never married and never sitting. Her kindness was perhaps the only thing that motivated you to wake up every morning without your parents. You found her kneading dough, moving her whole body over the clay-like clump with a force, upper half covered with flour. “Auntie.”

She turned, noticing you for the first time since you arrived back home. “Welcome home, little one!” She greeted you, and you watched her run a hand over her forehead to combat the sweat running over her eyes, leaving a trail of flour over her brow. “You doing alright?” She turned back to her ball of dough, leaning an elbow into it, anticipating your answer.

You just sighed, pulling up a chair close to her and studying her movements, unsure of how to tell her just how alright you were; it was like you had no emotions left, your heart a husk keeping your body moving with nowhere to go. Not nowhere, maybe.

“I got land in Texas.” You were quiet, and her movements stalled.

“Texas?” She quirked a brow and slapped her hands together, sending flour to stray over her apronless front. “Who got you land in Texas?”

“Papa.”

“Your daddy had land down there?”

You shrugged, “That’s what the lawyer said. Said it’s all mine, now.” You hadn’t yet absorbed the news, unsure of what to do with yourself or your earnings.

“War’s bad, little one,” your aunt huffed, not angrily, but with a concerned look spread over her face, “not much use with Texan land until Mr. Polk can figure out how to appease the folks down south.” You nodded, aware of the conflict and uneager to get anywhere near it. “Still…” Your aunt looked at you now, the black fabric of your dress bunched up over your knees with the specks of white dust she had covered you with.

“Still?” You questioned, feeling a wave of anxiety cross you.

“…Nothing left for you here.” She spoke quietly, barely above a whisper, looking you dead in the eyes.

“You’re here!” You felt trapped, scared, but mostly confused. She of all people would be the only one to condone such an outlandish notion—dropping everything and running off to a war-torn territory away from everything you ever knew—but you had hoped she would appeal to her more realistic side in this particular matter and tell you to forget the whole thing before dinner.

“I’m not staying, little one,” her eyes were pleading, “got my own life, got people in other places to look after.”

You felt tears well in your eyes, appalled that you had any water left in your body to cry out today. “I don’t want to leave…I don’t want you to leave.” You felt yourself begin to cry again.

“I’ll never leave you,” she whispered, the ghost of a smile on her lips, “but I can’t stay in Jefferson Territory…got plans back east.”

“East?” You practically yelled it, offended that she would leave the life your extended family had built in Jefferson Territory despite the unease that churned in your stomach whenever you thought of living out your own life in the same spot you'd known since you could toddle.

“East.” She was calm, balancing your abject terror. “I’m sure you’ve noticed I’m not exactly cut out for…roughin’ it.” She emphasized the last words, using the accent your father had worn so proudly. “I got friends in New York—going out to be with them…it’s safer there, easier.”

You were enraged; the one final person you trusted was abandoning you for a life you couldn’t ever imagine. It was safe here, you were safe here—with her, and your mother, and your father. “Well, I’m sorry I’m not a big city fool like you!” You felt yourself tremble, “I’m sorry you’d rather have it easy than live the life God gave you!” You were seeing red, standing now to lord yourself over her and make her seem as small as you felt. It didn’t work, and she looked at you now like everybody else did—full of pity.

She let you cry, sobs taking over your body and forcing hiccups up your throat. You shouldn’t be mad at her, you realized, couldn’t be mad at her; she was a grown woman, with wants and needs, and maybe someday you would be, too.

“Take me with you.” You pleaded through sniffles, wiping your nose on your sleeve in a move that your mother would have tutted you for. Your aunt stayed silent, placing a hand on your head to smooth over the hair that had come undone in your rage.

“I would,” she explained, “but I don't think you...I don't think you'd enjoy it any more than you enjoy it here. Not now, at least. Not yet." The pity in her eyes faded to reveal the compassion she had for you, and you nodded into her chest when she pulled you into her, acknowledging the truth she had spoken. You wouldn’t know up from down in a place like New York; too many people, too much smoke and noise. You let her hold you for as long as she would, soothed by the hand she combed through your hair and the way her heartbeat thrummed in your ear. Maybe someday.

“We’ll get you a train ticket,” she murmured above you, chin resting on the crown of your head, “I know a fella in Texas—real gentleman, cross my heart—and I know he’ll have a place for you away from all the ruckus.”

“Cross your heart?” You asked her to promise once more.

“Cross my heart, little one.”

~~~

Texas, October 1847

You stretched your legs when you got off the train, wondering how so much sitting could make your joints so sore. You had one bag, which was, truthfully, more than enough. You fit your entire life into the handheld leather case, and it felt both freeing and deeply, deeply woeful.

Your aunt had arranged for her associates (her words) to pick you up, show you around, and help you to your new home, but she hadn’t given you much of a description; you had no idea who you were looking for, or what they might look like. All she had done was give you a name. You felt small, already sweltering in the Texan heat and feeling out of place in your black mourning gown. Maybe it would be ok, given the circumstances, to forego the entire outfit, and simply wear a veil, but you felt that the only thing grounding you was the way you were dressed, the reminder of why you were here in this dusty sand-and-brick station.

You looked around, not minding the jostling of the people passing you to get to where they needed to go. You tried to identify anybody that might look as if they were waiting on a lonesome orphan, but all you saw was a pool of sweaty businessmen and women in large hats.

Attempting to find a map to get the lay of the land, you turned a corner, and collided into the chest of a tan man with long black hair and a hint of a mustache.

“I’m terribly sorry—” You felt yourself go bright red, already a nuisance and you hadn’t been in Texas for all of ten minutes.

“Woah, there,” the stranger tipped his hat down to you, offering a wink and a toothy grin, “no harm done, ma’am.” He patted down the front of his vest, smoothing out any wrinkles that remained from the collision. “Y’look lost.”

“I am lost,” you straightened your posture, trying not to seem so inconsequential compared to those around you, “Um—I’m looking for…Mr. Joel Miller?”

The man in front of you laughed, and he flashed the same toothy grin again. His laugh came from his stomach, and you watched him take his hat off to fan himself after he calmed down.

“Found her, El!” He called over his shoulder and a shorter, much younger boy appeared; he was wearing the same style of hat but was much paler than the man who had yet to introduce himself. His clothing gave away how young he was—that, and he was shorter than you, with a babyface and nary a whisker on his chin. He looked almost feminine up close, and was clearly quite a few years your junior.

“Oh, I’m sorry—you’re Mr. Miller?” You closed the confused ‘o’ of your mouth to form the question.

“No, no no no—I’m Tommy Miller,” he put his hat back on, “Joel’s my brother.” You nodded, trying to appear as though you understood the series of events that were taking place in front of you. What an odd introduction to the people whose care you were in. You had never questioned the company your aunt kept—she had her life, and you had your own, much more conservative one. Still, you began to think that these men had just as little an idea as to what you were doing here as you did. “’N you’re Tess’s girl.”

“I’m her niece,” you clarified, “my parents are dead.” You winced when the words came out, unsure of why you felt the need to share that with a man you had just met. Surely he must have been aware by now, and if he wasn’t, why would he care?

Tommy let out a low whistle in lieu of an apology. “Best get you goin’ then, girly.” He turned on his heel, encouraging you to hurry after him through the crowds. El grabbed your sleeve in a manner that, although gruff, was clearly meant as reassurance.

“Mine are, too,” he spoke softly, and his voice was similarly feminine to his face. When you gave an inquisitory glance at him, he continued, “My parents. They’re dead, too.”

“Oh,” you tried to think of a way to make the subject more lighthearted, aware of how tiring it got to hear constant apologies for something out of everybody’s control, “so you’re not—”

You didn’t even have to finish your sentence; El had anticipated your question from miles off. “Do we look related?”

“Well…no…” You muttered, embarrassed by how obvious the answer was.

“They’re like…well,” the younger boy mulled over everything he could say, but instead placed his arm in yours and laughed, “you’ll see.”

~~~

The ride back to the Miller’s land was long and bumpy—or maybe it just felt that way with Tommy looking back on you and El to ask various questions and soothe any anxieties, though it wasn’t as much help as he had thought it was. You taught El cat’s cradle with a string you had found in the cart, and it amused you for long enough before you switched to cards instead. El was shocked to hear you didn’t know how to play poker, and tried to teach you blackjack before Tommy reprimanded him for trying to corrupt you; you opted for go fish instead.

The cart came to a short stop in front of a rundown shack. There was a horse tied to a post with three feed bags in front of it—the extra two, you assumed, belonged to the two horses pulling the cart you were in.

Tommy helped you down, and you were careful to pat down the front of your dress when your feet touched the ground, not wanting to look unkept in front of new company. El jumped down behind you, making quick strides towards the door of the cabin. You and Tommy followed suit, with the older man taking your arm to lead the way.

When the door opened, El swore. “Jesus H., Joel!” he jumped backwards when a large figure stepped over the threshold and onto the dirt outside, “Scared the hell out of me!”

“Language, young lady.” The man in the doorway was tall, with a chest and shoulders to match his height. He was older than Tommy, and had the salt in his beard and dark hair to show for it. He wore the same hat, but didn’t have a full outfit on, with only the pants of a gentlemen to go with his undershirt and heavy boots.

So this was Joel Miller.

You were so focused on the new addition to the group that you almost didn’t catch what he had said to El—“young lady.” Tommy, still holding your arm, sensed your confusion.

“Well, cover’s blown,” he laughed, and El rolled his eyes. Taking off his hat, you watched thin, curly locks of hair come down to frame his face, and when you looked under the dirt and grime that coated his skin, you saw a little girl.

“El’s short for Ellie,” El laughed, tossing the hat in the air and catching it before walking past Joel to go inside.

You were almost more confused now than you had been.

“Little girl living with two grown men, wearing men’s clothes?” Tommy read the look on your face, trying to offer an explanation, “she’s a natural at bein’ a boy—‘n it draws less questions.” You nodded.

Joel continued to stare at you, and you couldn’t help but feel exposed to him despite your body being covered in the modest dress you had on. He was riddled in scars, and his tan skin flexed under his white undershirt; he looked so masculine, and it frightened and excited you in a way you decided to repress. He strolled over to you, taking slow steps and examining you with dark eyes that looked like honey under the Texan sun. He stopped in front of you, and you let go of Tommy's arm to curtsy, unsure of what else to do under his gaze.

“You’re Tess’s girl.” He said it with more confidence than Tommy had when he found you. Joel didn't bother returning the friendly gestures of introduction you had extended, shifting his weight on his heels and letting his eyes drag over your face.

“I’m her niece.” You clarified as you had at the train station.

“I know, darlin’.” He smirked down at you, and the way it was painted on his face made him look almost predatory. You offered a weak smile in return, hoping he would mistake the blush creeping up your face as a sunburn. He grunted something that sounded like approval.

Joel turned around and walked in after Ellie, leaving you with Tommy.

“Don’t worry,” Tommy took your arm once more, “he’s like that with everyone.”

You didn’t know if you liked that.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction

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susandsnell · 1 year

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@forthegothicheroine - the ask got deleted in a wild mishap, but here are the Which books I’d recommend to various Batman Villains! (thank you so much for this btw -- absolutely juicy question and I had a thrill imagining any scenario where I’d be in such a position as to be recommending them things!

Harley Quinn - Fingersmith by Sarah Waters, naturally! Things not appearing what they seem, the plot twists, the self-reclamation, the romance, overcoming abuse - I think she’d really enjoy it! Conversely, I think Zola’s Thérèse Raquin would speak to her and maybe help her process some things regarding her bad patterns in criminal relationships.

Poison Ivy - Gotta keep with the plants theme and give her The Weeds by Katy Simpson Smith, the tale of two women botanists from two different time periods whose entries framed around each type of plant and its uses explores a different theme/moment in their lives, usually relating to gendered violence and resilience to such. It’s even got a sapphic subplot, so really it’s made for her. Rumour has it that the Matt Reeves Batverse for her is planned to be inspired by Nathaniel Hawthorne’s Rappacini’s Daughter, which has me insanely excited -- so I’d throw that on the list as well. To switch gears from just the plants, I think that she’d really enjoy the sheer depth of devotion between women on display in My Best Friend’s Exorcism by Grady Hendrix.

Riddler - I feel like any mystery novel you give the guy is going to end in “I simply would have _____, RIP to [protagonist’s/antagonist’s name] But I, Edward Nygma/Nigma/Nashton Am Different”. Guy probably went into a full rage about how stupidly Franklin Clarke from The ABC Murders got caught after all the trouble he took with the puzzle-clues. after so I think I’d give him Walter Tevis’ The Queen’s Gambit since a lot of iterations show him having a fondness for chess (and the genuine skill in the writing), and Beth’s arc with difficult beginnings, addiction struggles, resilience and alienation would resonate with him if he ever would admit to it. I also think Gogol would suit him well; I see him enjoying the humour in short works like The Nose, but Dead Souls’ protagonist really suits him as a trickster conman who entertains the possibility of doing better.

Scarecrow - Oh, this is the big one. Hardest one on the list, because Crane’s probably the best-read on the list considering his original motive of wanting to heist money to fund getting books, and his Year One backstory working this into his horrific childhood probably cemented this, so odds are he’s read most of them already, especially the classics! But I did like the suggestion in your fic The Most Poetical Topic he hasn’t read Stephen King’s Carrie, since that’s the shoo-in. I do think he’d also get a kick out of Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s works for modern gothics - Mexican Gothic and the use of the spores is up his alley in particular! Lindqvist‘s Let the Right One In with the cute little murder couple of vampire kids who absolutely obliterate bullies and find connection in being outsiders is probably his wish fulfilment jam, let’s be real. And because I’m me, I’d also insist on him reading The Moth Diaries by Rachel Klein because it’s essential reading imo and the psychological horror “is there a vampire or is it untreated grief and mental illness” plotline would tickle him.

Two-Face - Handing him a copy of Phantom of the Opera is probably a great way to get him to flip the coin on whether he’s shooting you or drowning you, so I’d say I’d get Harvey some more legal-related literature. He’s probably a fan of Atticus Finch, so hand him a better John Grisham, a good Perry Mason tale, or Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities especially. And of course, Dumas’ Count of Monte Cristo. We’re counting on you, Harv!!!

Penguin - Perfume: The Story of a Murderer by Patrick Suskind was all but made for Oswald, especially the more grotesque iterations. It practically feels like proto-Burton!Oswald, although most iterations could probably get a lot out of the themes of abandonment and difficulty, the grotesque, and the ebb and flow of affections and power depending on one’s usefulness. The protagonist is even named after an animal to signify unwantedness!! But privately, I think Oswald likes his cozy mysteries too.

Mr. Freeze - The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery -- really, hear me out, because while the book is only directly about grief and a new lease on life at the end, there’s the grief throughout for a life not lived, and I think he’d enjoy its little quotidian charms and the way it speaks of finding appreciation while you’re here. Otherwise, I’d say Terry Pratchett’s Nation, which is one of the other most immensely powerful explorations of grief. It also involves quite a few scientists for his bias!!

Mad Hatter - Lewis Carroll’s works are his bread and butter, but I’d be very curious to see his thoughts on The Screwtape Letters. Otherwise I think I’d have to hand him a copy of The Stepford Wives with a sticky-note foreword of: “THIS IS A CAUTIONARY TALE, NOT AN INSTRUCTION MANUAL”.

#jonathan crane #edward nygma #harley quinn #harvey dent #bat-tag #ask night!#thanks so much for this!!!

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two-reflections · 4 months

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how you feel about your current WIP

Which one, hahahahaaa...

Thanks for asking, it's always good to do a WIP audit. Let's do it as a numbered list. Only going for the multi-chapter stories here. I also have a lot of oneshots in varying states of completion.

Non Warhammer 40k stories are under the Read More.

Carrion's Heir - Technically not a WIP, but not fully uploaded yet. It would have been a better story if I hadn't had to follow a set of prompts, but that was how the challenge I wrote it for worked. Still, I love the main character and his story arc. May come back to it in the future.

Of Steel and Flesh - Started off as a quick series of campaign-inspired drabbles, but became its own thing. I kind of love it and kind of hate it sometimes. Maybe I should have just left it as a bunch of tiny vignettes. I am committed to finishing it, though. Again, I care a lot about the main characters, and I REALLY like the Dark Mechanicum sect in it.

Even in Death - MY BELOVED. MY DARLING. MY SWEET, SELF-INDULGENT DREADNOUGHT-BASED BABY. Putting this one off to finish other projects hurts so bad. I want to write the rest of this ASAP.

[Unnamed Techmarine Story] - This is about my character Bai'keti's 30 years on Mars. It's less about his training and more about what being so far from his brothers and culture is like, the difficulty of adopting a new culture, and his intense friendship with another techmarine in training from the Dragonspears chapter. I'll probably never upload this one because I'm not too familiar with what Mars in 40k is like beyond "Admech and the Void Dragon live here." Plus, it's based on my own time as an International student at a particularly weird British University. It makes me feel nostalgic for the rare good times, and also SO freaking glad I survived my time and am not there any more. Hated my Uni so much. This WIP is also on the back burner at like 12k words, will probably pick it back up in the autumn.

[Unnamed Salamander Story] - The story of Val'ten's first year in the Salamanders' 6th company. Includes a romance between him and his brander priest, but it's mostly about various missions and adventures, how he settles to life as a Salamander brother, and his attempt to grow a little garden in his downtime. This one is my most long-term wh40k project since I came up with Val'ten in 2017 for a completely different (and much worse) fic. His story has been stuck at around 60k words for months because it's on the back burner while I finish other things, but this is the story I think about in the shower, when I'm waiting in a queue, when I'm on the train. It's so important to me.

Other fandoms and Original Work

The Name Within - A leftover from my Kingdom Hearts Days. It's about Isa straightening out his head after everything that happened in KH3, and coming to terms with perhaps never functioning like a normal human after experiencing literal dehumanization at a pivotal age. I've linked it because it's on Ao3, but I wouldn't bother checking it out, it's probably not worth reading unless you really like this one particular dude. It's been missing around two paragraphs to finish for years. I should just bash those out and finish it, but it's hard to find the keen for it now.

Big Name on Campus/The Dream He Was Given - Temporary names for two fanfics based on a very old Sci-Fi manga. One is a weird fix-it-fic, the other is based on the University career of my favourite character, the chronically ill director of a medical center. I know, another university story, but I swear this one's not primarily based on my experience; rather, on watching my parents' students over the years. Decent chance I will never finish these two, there's no English-speaking audience for this comic so they're only for me. I love BNOC, though. The other, I could take or leave.

Twisted Links - Original story. After a series of international incidents and corporate takeovers, HR Agent Marley from the Pan-Martian Corporation ends up as temporary site director for a radio telescope in the Caribbean with secret instructions to ensure the Corp's permanent control of the site. Unbeknownst to Marley, local engineer and anti-colonialism activist Victor is struggling to hide a rogue Pan-Martian AI which caused a major international incident several decades before. Will Victor be able to keep the AI secret, or will Marley find out that there's a second being living inside Victor's head? Whose vision for the future of the telescope will become reality, or will the whole place shut down? The first 20k words of this story secured me a first-class Master's degree, but just as I was gearing up to write the rest, the catastrophic demise of the telescope where I grew up happened. I miss this story and want to go back to it but... Trauma...

#wip wednesday #This works for my WIP Wednesday post this week since I haven't been painting!#Warhammer 40000 fanfiction #Wh40k fanfic #Meta

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idv-harmonic-melody · 2 months

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❛ Killernight Disco❜ - Another victim

Last event post

"August X, 1998 Time: why am i even writing this when i know i don't know the time. But i think it has been like...Almost an hour? Mood: another person died.

Where do i even begin? No, actually, i don't know where to start. I remember seeing horror movies and thinking that there was no way people were as dumb as these characters, but they apparently are! Amazing! Actually no, Orpheus, concentrate. Do not start speaking ill of the dead, imagine if you end up dying too and someone starts writing shit about you, you wouldn't like it, would you? Well, actually, i would be dead, so i wouldn't be able to know that. Well. Whatever.

This entire paragraph was to say that i am losing my mind, it has been only an hour and i am already losing my mind. Another person died, i am now sharing this club with three bodies. But alright, let me remember what happened exactly to see if i calm down.

After writing my thoughts for the last time i tried to talk to the people there and we all gave each others our names, and afterwards, since the club was so big, we decided to separate into groups, i decided to team up with Ms. Topaz (because if anything went bad, we could lock ourselves in the vip area, because there is no way the assassin has acess to it, right?) and decided to search around the club's bathrooms once more, as there could be clues left by the assassin still in there, which proved to be useless since we didn't find anything.

But my peace was short-lived, because soon, Ms. Kafka came into the bathroom to ask for help. Apparently, the killer had appeared in front of her and her husband when they were searching around the 2nd floor, and, when her husband decided to run and leave her behind, the killer had gone after him, despite her being right there. (reminder for myself: weird)

When we went upstairs, the door to one of the vip rooms had been open, and upon entering, we found Mrs. Neumann corpse there, there was a lot of broken glass bottles around the place, he had a really bad wound in his head, and a wound similar to the one of the two other victims in his throat, well, needless to say he was dead.

Upon looking through his itens, i couldn't manage to any VIP card that he could potentialy have, so maybe i should ask his wife (ex-wife?) about that. For now, i will try to warn others about what happened, maybe ask Ms. Topaz and Ms. Kafka to try to find them for me while i try to investigate the room better?

God, i'm not good at this type of thing."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As always, a little ramble below the letter! Matthias was really fun to draw, and, technically, he was one of the first and also the last designs i made! Since i made his first design right after finishing Beth's and Xiao's, but i reallyyyy disliked how it looked, so i didn't remade it until finishing ALL the others, when i finally had some ideas! Also as a small fun fact: his jacket is inspired by one i actually have!!!!

I had some difficulties making his designs as most inspo i found were for teenager atletes, and i def did NOT want him to look too young, so i tried to use a mix of atletes clothes + bad boy styles, and i think it looked pretty neat!!! Gen one of my fave skins..........As always, here is a small ref for his whole body + his beta design!!!

#✿' killernight disco #✿' not an ask answer

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cherrycarmine · 1 year

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Bruno's Pizza (Grand Reopening)

I've been really into Pizza Tower for the past few months and it inspired me to write this story.

Here's the first draft of what I've been working on for a few months. I may or may not redo this someday (I haven't been feeling up to writing for the last few months, so this might be a bit weird).

Content warnings: Body Horror, Violence, Murder

Bruno didn't know how his pizzeria ended up leaving that strange tower. But here it was, back downtown and just as run-down as it had been long ago. He vaguely remembers putting it in the hands of an old friend of his after falling ill a few years before he died. Judging by the old signs peeling from the front door, that guy must've done something that led to the place getting condemned. If only he could rebuild it from the ground up.

All he could do was look sadly from beyond as the creature inhabiting the place drove away any chance of him reopening his old business, said creature having made the place its "home" as it slept underneath one of the tables. If he were alive, he'd be gagging at the old, decaying smell and random body parts strewn around his pizzeria (probably the only good thing about being a ghost, he supposed).

Come to think of it, that creature bears a shocking resemblance to Peppino. Bruno wondered why it chose him specifically (he wasn't a bad guy; while he wasn't the most talkative guy around, Bruno enjoyed the few conversations they held at the local bar down the street. And Mr. Peppino is dedicated to his business, something Bruno admired. His pizza could be better, though. But maybe that's just him being petty). The damn thing even named its pizzeria "Peppino's Pizza 2" for crying out loud! To think that his pizzeria - his dream business - has been reduced to a shell of his old competitor's place.

He should've never agreed to that merger! It did nothing for him in the end.

Bruno desperately wanted to get rid of that monster so that he could finally rest. But he had no idea what he could do. Haunting it was out of the question; it seemed to respond aggressively to any attempts to confront it. The last thing Bruno wanted was to die again. Perhaps possessing it would be better. Neither would risk upsetting the other and would achieve their shared dream of running a pizzeria (well, reopening it in Bruno's case).

Bruno floated over to the sleeping creature. He grimaced as he got closer to it, afraid at the thought of possessing something so abnormal. What if he couldn't leave? What if it got angry and went on a rampage?

Maybe he could act as its conscience. Bruno took a deep breath before diving in.

The monster bolted upright and roared before scrambling around the pizzeria. Bruno shouted as he rattled around inside the creature's mind. "Calm down, buddy! I ain't here to hurt you!" It stopped quickly, panting. Bruno breathed a sigh of relief.

"All right," Bruno said. "How 'bout I teach you how to make a fine pizza?"

The creature looked around, confused.

"Don't worry about where I am! You wanna become a fellow pizzaiolo, right?" Bruno couldn't help but chuckle as the creature happily waved its hands and gurgled. "Good! Just listen to me, and you'll be making the best pizza in town!"

This guy's pretty docile. Bruno figured he could get his business running again within a few months should everything go well. He definitely had to hire some new hands, however.

Perhaps he should reconsider their deal. Bruno watched in horror as the creature smashed one of its clones into a paste - presumably intending to use the remains as the dough for its pizza - before skinning the other clone and using said "skin" as the toppings. Then it smashed the other clone and proceeded to pluck out its eyes before putting them onto the "pizza."

The creature smiled and let out a gurgling laugh before bringing the concoction to its mouth and taking a bite. It had the nerve to kiss its fingers as if it were satisfied with such an awful excuse of a pizza.

Unbelievable! Bruno wanted to strangle it to death.

On what planet does human skin even remotely resemble pepperoni?! And that flesh-colored goo must've had such an awful taste it could destroy someone's stomach in minutes. Not that this guy would realize; he's eaten multiple slices of his so-called "pizzas" without blinking! Bruno couldn't figure out this guy's thought process at all.

Bruno groaned, his patience waning by the second. "Get some actual food, idiot!" He didn't care whether he went to Peppino's or the grocery store - he needed something edible! Something an actual person could eat without gagging.

The creature groaned, shaking. Even Bruno couldn't help but balk at the sight of going out in public; he couldn't do anything about their unsightly appearance, and talking through him was not an option.

Worse yet, the strange combination of "ingredients" made sense to him, in a way. Wait. He shouldn't be thinking like that! He's this guy's conscience, so he should be telling him to stop! "Hey…" His voice trembled, seemingly unrecognizable to him.

The creature suddenly stepped out of the kitchen, seemingly alerted by something outside. Two cheeseslimes were sliding along the sidewalk, conversing. Bruno and the creature grinned.

Cheese. That's what his pizza was missing.

#pizza tower #writing #fake peppino #pizza tower bruno #my writing #first draft #fanfiction #I just felt like sharing something after not doing so for such a long time

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sheskindaperfecttryhardboys · 2 years

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inspired by a post i saw by @mh-midnight-wanderer

🌹🦇Things I Liked About The Movie🦇🌹

Frankie…thats it thats the post - Ceci played the HELL out of them I loved the casual representation like the thing I hate about most shows that add representation is thats all there is to the character and here it isn’t the case Frankie is my favorite character of the movie not just because of them being nonbinary. between the Info-dumping and how relatable their struggle with socializing was and how consistent they were with their movement and the first day they were 15 days old and the next they were 16 days old I really enjoyed that. They in my opinion had the best outfits in the movie like I did not hate them as someone where my clothing and makeup expression is very important to my gender presentation. Overall they held up the movie definitely.

The music was fucking great there was not a bad song all of them bops going onto my musical playlist hell my main playlist even cuz the hyperfixation is real

The visuals and like background music was so on brand in my opinion like I don’t know how they could have been done better with the budget they had I really did feel immersed in the universe

The humor was also so on brand the football scene and the main 3 disturbing ghoulias rest in the graveyard were some highlights for me

Eventhough I am Jacksons biggest simp the teacher I did like I know alot of people were saying it was predictable but their motives and everything and how they didn’t want Clawdeen to get involved and thought their way was the best way for her I enjoyed. and hell from what i recall they never said his first name that could be Jackson.

I enjoyed headmistress and Dracula’s characters they are just as I would have imagined them and how Draculaura has conflict with her dad due to their family’s legacy I related to alot as a kid who feels like they haven’t done enough as an 18 year old because my siblings already had cars and high gpas and stable jobs by then

🌹🦇Things I Disliked About The Movie🦇🌹

Cleo - fucking white woman jumpscare everytime she came on screen I omfg

The casting in general when it came to the poc in the movie yall know damn well Cleo and Clawdeen could and should have been casted by darker actresses and the argument of talent can not be made because there are plenty of darker skinned poc actresses who can act and sing yall could have found

i wish they kepted ghoulia nonverbal/speaks zombie i made a post touching on this lightly ill link it here

🍒🧟Things I Liked About The Cartoon🧟🍒

Draculaura, Cleo, and Lagoonas cartoon characters looked very cute

Im trying to be positive here okay

🍒🧟Things I Didn’t Like About The Cartoon🧟🍒

TORALEI!! im not even not even upset about the fact that she’s fucking british okay its the fact they scrapped her origin of being an orphan that had a rough upbringing and how they brought nuance to her character instead to make her some bigoted chav she was one of my favorite characters and yall shat on her

youtube

i didnt like the story felt rushed and cheap but that was only one episode I watched so

felt like a baby show and not a good one like miraculous ladybug or sophia the first like just bright colors make them shut up for 10 minutes baby show i was hoping for something fun to watch at any age like the og Bratz show

the styles of the character are hard to look the only ones that I like are draculaura and cleo and maybe lagoona really the rest of them I don’t see myself getting dolls of which makes me upset cuz as someone who really liked live action Frankie if their doll looked like that I would have bought it

why did they make clawdeen biracial? i dont know if this is for the show and the movie im assuming both because of how the character looks. like did the idea of having a fully black main character not vibe with y’all what is the reason if yall wanted to have a biracial character then create a new character making a character who was fully black now biracial is crumby as hell making it seem as if having a dark skinned femme lead isn’t appealing

this can apply to both the movie and the show really where are clawdeens siblings??? howleen my girl where are you!! clawd my himbo!? i loved how the wolf siblings showed the variety of shades black teens came in and their characters in general and thats just gone now

ill add more as i go!!🖤

#monster high #the formatting on this looks horrible jfc

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id0ntkn0w0101 · 2 years

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Top 5 Writing Tips for Depressed People

As a certified depressed person. I am not a professional writer, I am just a person who likes to write but am also depressed. These are my tips and tricks for doing better at writing without hating myself

1 - Try to channel every mood into writing.

Wake up in a bad mood because you're pissed at someone? Write about your character being pissed at someone. Depression kicking your ass? Write about your character's mental illness or emotional struggle. Manage to have a rare, good day? Maybe give your character a bit of a reprieve from the conflict and let them have a relaxing day with their friends and/or lover. And if these don't fit into the place you are in in your book, don't worry, because...

2 - Don't force yourself to write linearly.

Don't force yourself to write according to a strict "this then that then this then that" timeline. If you have an idea for a scene at the end of your slow burn romance where the two characters finally kiss, then write that scene. Writing is always going to be easier if you write what you want to write when you want to write it instead of just hoping it'll be there when its finally time for that scene to pop up. I know I can never remember scene ideas, even if I outline them beforehand. My "scene plans" end up being so elaborate so I don't forget anything that I basically end up writing the actual scene anyway.

3 - Lower your expectations for your first draft.

Don't expect your first draft to make your writing sound like a finished book you'd pick up at Barnes&Noble. The books there are likely, at minimum, a 3rd draft. Most bigger authors who work with a publisher even have an editor that reads over everything and recommends corrections. A huge part of the writing process isn't even writing, it's rewriting. It's realizing, "Wait this line of dialogue seems really similar to that one my favorite author wrote, I should change it." or "Wait her hair was brown in the last scene and now its blonde. Does she dye her hair a lot like Ramona Flowers or do I need to correct it." The goal when writing is not to write in a "them" way. That is, writing in a similar style to authors you like. Every writer, whether a seasoned NaNoWriMo veteran or a middle schooler with a dream, has their own writing voice and style. You can, of course, take inspiration from another writer's style, but if you completely try to change your own, your writing will feel hollow and manufactured rather than alive and full.

4 - Know yourself!

Every person is different, and depressed people still fit in that category. Know if you are the kind of person that functions better if you schedule time every day to do something, or if you work better when you just let yourself do things in their own time. Apply that knowledge to your writing. I, for instance, work better if I write as soon as I have the idea, so planning time out to try to write won't work for me because I'll be hit with Blank Screen syndrome. However, I also have a tendency to get stuck in my own head and need to force myself to at least try to write every single day. Know who you are and how you function best, because nobody is going to tell you for you.

5 - Don't reread stuff until you get to a good stopping point.

Unless you just forget a character's name or appearance or something, don't reread your work until, bare minimum, you get to the end of that section of the book. I guarantee if you do, you will hate a lot of it and just end up starting over. If you can avoid it, don't even reread it until you finish the first draft or are lightly editing it to post somewhere like I do. Even then, I just turn on spell check or grammar check and click through it correcting mistakes I made without really reading the words around them. If you focus too much on what you've already written, you'll get too tied up in editing things and you won't ever get new words and scenes on the page. If, like me, you have a tendency to forget little things about fantasy mechanics or character or setting appearances, write down little blurbs about those things in a seperate document or in your notes app and come back to it later on when you need a reminder. Your notes don't need to be perfectly written, so you won't be too bothered with editing them.

I hope you all enjoyed this list and hopefully get some clarity or inspiration from it. If anyone has any other tips, please share them. If you'd like to read my own writing, I have my current WIP FIRST DRAFT posted both on this tumblr and on ao3 called Of Dreams and Fury. Have a great day!

#writing advice #depressed writer #depression advice #mental health #depression #my writing #motivation #writers #writers on tumblr

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cherrybomboyfriend · 4 months

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prince of egypt prince of persia prince of paris, you’re the prince of serving me poison on the terrace

may 10th, 2024.

listening to my current favorite song while crying over a possibility of me being talentless. i hate asking other people for opinions on my art because it fucking wrecks me whenever i get criticized for it. i’ve always thought that i was some artistic genius so whenever people tell me that im not it slams cracks into the foundation of my entire body. my desire for expertise will tear me apart. a girl in sophomore year told me that my poetry was bad and it caused me to never write the same ever again. i used to be so innovative before she laughed at my work. now i can’t find myself anywhere near the amount of creativity at that point in my poetic journey. every time i go a little abstract i slide my tail between my legs and stare at the ground. what if i am nothing? i’ve been making music for around a year now and it’s been the funnest yet scariest experience ever. i really fucking like making music. i’ve had a lot of medical complications over the past two years so creating art has helped me immensely. i feel myself starting to fall in love with producing and making little melodies over my computer-born beats. despite this honeymoon phase i still have moments of frustration. i needed help to see which version of my second verse for this song sounded better so i asked my friend for help. she told me that it sounded weird and tried to tell me how to fix it (which annoyed me to the gods), so i sent her a song of reference (being the song that i mentioned at the top of this text) for her to get my point. she listened to the song then proceeded to say “that sounds good, but whatever you’re trying to do doesn’t. it won’t sound like that at all.” which made me burst into tears! i slammed my macbook shut and buried myself into the covers. i don’t want anyone to see me anymore. you don’t think my art has potential? fine! then maybe i should just go fucking kill myself! i’ll end my fucking life if that’s what you want! since the thing that brings me the most joy humiliates me then i deserve to swing from the ceiling by sweaters ive crocheted but never sold. play these awful fucking tunes at my funeral since i apparently suck at making them. read aloud the poetry i wrote when i was 15 for everyone to hear and coil up in disgust at! i don’t care! i wish that criticism of my art didn’t affect me so much i pretend that it doesn’t to seem well put together but it does. everything hurts me. i said that i was falling in love with the new song earlier but now i look at it like a lost child. you disgust me. you do nothing good. you’re going nowhere in life. get out of my garageband library. you’re not allowed to come back until you make a name for yourself. until you make me money. i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have said that. i love you. you’re my baby. you came out of my sweaty pointer fingers. i’ll never leave you. here, i’ll sing you my favorite song, the one that inspired you.

Prince of Egypt, prince of Persia, Prince of Paris

You’re the prince of champagne and sunning on the terrace

You’re the prince of bubble bath, the crush i have is terrifying

Suffer, but i bear it. i know love will tear us apart again

LOVE WILL NEVER TEAR ME AND MY MACBOOK APART AGAIN!!! ILL BURY MYSELF WITH THESE TUNES AND MY BAD POETRY.

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jaehyunfirstlove · 3 years

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You decide you’re ready to have a baby. The catch? You’re not seeing anyone at the moment. Enter your best friend, Jeong Jaehyun. Will he be the answer to your dilemma?

Pairing: best friend!Jaehyun x f.reader

Genre: best friends to fwb to lovers, fluff, angst, smut (18+ only)

Warnings: mentions of infertility, pregnancy and childbirth, sperm donors, IVF (in vitro fertilization), fertility drugs, mood swings, fingering, unprotected sex, cum play, nipple play, breeding kink, oral sex (f.receiving), dirty talk, pregnant sex, rough sex

Word count: 10.6k

Taglist: @jaehyunnie77 @mrg-jjh @keeach (send me a message if you want to be tagged in future fics)

A/N: this was only meant to be a short fic but it morphed into this monstrosity. I tried to tag for everything but if I missed anything please let me know. Inspired by the fact that Jaehyun wanted to be a teen dad (but they are not teens in this story, just thought I’d make that clear :) Also please excuse my unimaginative name for the baby, I’m terrible at coming up with names lol

Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional so please excuse any inconsistencies.

“So what have you got planned for today?” your best friend, Jaehyun, asked you as he took a sip of his coffee, shielding his eyes from the sun’s rays coming through the window of the cafe.

It was your weekly Saturday brunch, at which Jaehyun would show up, nine times out of ten, hungover, wearing dark sunglasses, a baseball cap, a black t-shirt and sweats. There was never a deviation from this outfit, even on the times when he came not hungover.

“Oh not much, just an appointment at the fertility clinic this afternoon.”

Jaehyun paused, as you took a sip of your latte. You couldn’t see the look in his eyes through the sunglasses but his fork had stopped midway to his mouth. It hovered in the air, scrambled eggs sliding off of it and plopping onto the plate below.

“The where?” he asked, tipping his head to look at you above the top of his sunglasses.

“Fertility clinic. Looking into getting a sperm donor.”

The matter-of-fact way you were saying everything seemed to shock him, his fork still not moving towards his mouth or back onto the plate.

“Excuse me, a sperm donor?”

You put your coffee cup down, and sighed. “I don’t know why you’re so shocked, I told you before I wanted to have a baby.”

“I thought you were joking!”

“Well I wasn’t!” you don’t know why you were being so indignant, maybe because all you’d heard from everyone around you, from your parents to your doctor to the lady that sold you pretzels from a street cart, was negative. You shouldn’t have a baby without a partner, was the main point of contention, but how was that going to happen if you weren’t seeing anyone, and hadn’t had a serious relationship in almost a year.

“But a sperm donor, Y/N?” he asked, after mulling over what you just said.

“Yeah? What’s wrong with it?” you countered. You were so sick of everyone around you criticizing your plan.

“I don’t know, what if he’s like, a serial killer or something?”

“They do psychiatric assessments on everyone who donates.”

“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have an undiagnosed illness-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Jaehyun!” you’d had it, letting out an exasperated huff, “Do you have a better idea? Do you want to be my sperm donor?”

You weren’t at all serious, you were just mainly upset and unfortunately, taking it out on him, but he actually sat back in his chair, eyebrows raised, as if he were contemplating it.

“Anyway, forget it. I don’t need your approval. I just hoped that you’d support me, of all people.” You couldn’t help but pout. He was your best friend and he’d stuck with you when no one else had. You may have said you didn’t need his approval but deep down you wanted him to be on your side.

He leaned forward, took his sunglasses off and looked you in the eye. “Of course I support you,” he said sincerely. “If this is what you want, then I’m with you one hundred percent of the way.”

You smiled, your heart feeling lighter, and just as you took a sip of your latte he said the one thing that would complicate your life forever.

“But I get to be that sperm donor.”

You spluttered, almost choking on your latte. “I wasn’t being at all serious, Jaehyun,” you chuckled nervously, but one look at his face and you could see he was being completely serious.

“I just don’t like the idea of some stranger being the father of your child,” he said quietly, looking down at his plate of food while he said it, “might as well be me, right?” He looked up at you hopefully.

You didn’t know what to say. This was your best friend, the one you’d grown up with, the one you’d catch tadpoles with, the one you’d drag to the playground with you, the one you told all your innermost secrets to. The one who knew you best. Didn’t it make sense then, that he would be the one to share this with you, in the end? You looked at his face; open, sincere, beautiful. You knew he was attractive, with the trail of broken hearts he’d leave in his wake, but you hadn’t really looked at him in that way before. Suddenly he was a new person to you, and now you didn’t know how to feel.

“Jaehyun, I-” you rubbed your hands together nervously, still unsure of what to say, “it’s a big thing, you know? This will change the rest of your life.”

He nodded, but there was no trace of hesitation in his actions. In fact, he looked as sure as anything. “Yeah that’s a given. But I’ve thought about it and I’m ready.”

“Jaehyun, you’ve literally thought about it for, like, the few minutes we’ve been sitting here.”

He smiled, “Actually I’ve thought about it for a long time.”

“About being a sperm donor?”

He laughed. “No, not specifically a sperm donor. But it’s a start,” he shrugged. “So what do I have to do?”

---

Jaehyun accompanied you to the appointment at the fertility clinic, where they outlined the plan and what was required of the two of you. It didn’t sound too bad, but you did find that having Jaehyun there to support you was really helpful. Every time the doctor explained something that made you nervous you would look over at him and he would smile confidently at you, sometimes squeezing your hand if you looked particularly concerned.

It was the fertility drugs they gave you, that threw your world into chaos. They had warned you of the side effects but you didn’t think it would be this bad. Your mood swung back and forth like a pendulum, one moment you were happy, the next you were crying into your cereal. You were irritable more than you had ever been in your life, and constantly snapped at every little thing. Not to mention that your breasts were sore and you had nausea, making you feel like you were pregnant already. You felt bad for Jaehyun when he was around for your mood swings and irritable moments, but he handled it much better than you thought he would. He’d give you your space when you needed it, but also sit by your side when you didn’t want to be alone. You found yourself thinking about how he would be as a father, but then you would remember that he was just the sperm donor.

One day, when he was sitting beside you on the couch, rubbing your back after you’d cried over your coffee order being wrong, you ended up asking him how much he wanted to be involved.

“We didn’t talk about the ‘after’,” you said, still sniffling. He stopped rubbing your back and looked at you.

“What do you want the ‘after’ to look like?” He asked, his tone level and gentle.

You had visions of Jaehyun rocking the baby to sleep, of Jaehyun seeing the baby walk for the first time, of Jaehyun teaching your child how to ride a bike, piano lessons, soccer games, first day of school. The perfect family. Except he wasn’t your husband, he wasn’t even your boyfriend. You didn’t know what to ask of him.

“I don’t know,” you whispered. He went back to rubbing your back.

“I’ll be as involved as you want me to be,” he said softly, “my only request is that I get to be a part of their life.”

That sounded fair, you thought. This was certainly going to be more complicated than getting a stranger as a sperm donor.

---

You went through several cycles of IVF, but none had been successful and you were losing hope. Not to mention the fertility drugs were really taking a toll on you, and the doctor had recommended taking a break. You were devastated, seeing it as the end of your dream, no matter how much the doctor reassured you that it wasn’t.

“There has to be another solution,” you pleaded at one appointment. Jaehyun hadn’t accompanied you and you felt yourself falling apart without his presence.

“Well, of course there’s the surefire way,” the doctor shrugged.

“What’s that? I’ll do anything!” you were hopeful once again at the doctor’s words.

“Regular sexual intercourse.”

Of course, you thought bitterly. You couldn’t help but think this was society punishing you for doing this without a husband. Undeterred, you resolved to discuss it with Jaehyun.

---

The look on Jaehyun’s face when you broached the subject was one you had never seen on him before. It was a mixture of shock, terror, resignation, and… something else, almost like acceptance, as if this were the natural course of things.

You resolved not to make it weird, it was just sex after all, and you would get a baby out of it, and that was the most important thing. However, your palms still got sweaty at the thought of it, your heart racing imagining him naked. You’d gone swimming with him plenty of times, went on beach outings often, and you realized you’d always avert your eyes from his bare chest. You figured you were just doing it to be polite, but you had no trouble looking at other men’s chests (you were only human, after all). You shook your head of your thoughts, while waiting patiently for him to agree or disagree to your request.

“I know it’s weird,” you began, when he still hadn’t said anything, “but I promise it won’t change anything in our relationship.” You needed him to agree, and at this point you would say anything to convince him. He looked at you thoughtfully, before he nodded.

“Okay, I’m in.”

---

You’d been keeping track of your cycle and had the days you were ovulating marked on your calendar, which you had shared with Jaehyun. It was agreed that he would come to your place after work, where you would have sex in the hopes of making a baby.

The first night you were nervous, pacing your room as you waited for him to come over. When the doorbell rang you literally jumped out of your skin. When you opened the door you were relieved to see that he was nervous too, although he tried his best to hide it. He joked around with you, trying to keep the mood light, and you had to admit you appreciated it. But when you got to the bedroom, you both went quiet. Jaehyun stood at one end of the room and you stood at the other, the bed looming between you.

“Do you want me to turn around while you get undressed?” he asked awkwardly, and you realized you hadn’t thought through the details.

“Um, yeah, sure,” you replied, and when he turned around you hastily undressed and jumped under the covers. “Done,” you advised, and he turned around. He didn’t make a move though, just looking at you pointedly, until you realized and turned your head away. Once he was done undressing you felt him lift the covers and get into the bed with you, and you couldn’t stop your heart from hammering in your chest.

“Y/N,” he said softly, because you still hadn’t turned back to him. “Can I touch you?”

You bit your lip, still not looking his way, and nodded. His touch made you jolt, even though his hand was warm, the electricity you felt made all your nerve endings feel like they were on fire.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his hand moving tentatively across your stomach. You nodded but you realized you were panting already, and he had barely touched you. “Tell me if I do anything you don’t like,” he suddenly whispered in your ear, and then he was kissing your neck.

You weren’t prepared for the intimacy, you had really only thought about the intercourse part. You hadn’t prepared yourself for the kissing, and the touching, and how he was so good at making you feel good. You felt like you weren’t supposed to enjoy it, that it was supposed to be “just sex” because you were friends and you weren’t doing this because you loved each other, you were only doing it to have a baby. But the more he touched you, the more he kissed you, the more you fell under his spell. You felt like you should tell him to stop, to just get on with it, but you knew he was doing it to get you nice and wet and therefore more comfortable to take him.

His kisses started to move along your jaw, towards your lips, and when he was finally there, his lips on yours, you felt a panic bubble up in your chest. It was too intimate, too much for someone who wasn’t yours. You pulled away, and he looked at you in surprise.

“No kissing on the lips,” you managed to say, maybe that would be enough to keep it less intimate, you told yourself. He nodded without saying a word, his hand coming up to your breast.

“Is it okay if I touch you here?” he asked, his eyes on yours. You thought for a moment and decided it was okay, and when you nodded he cupped your breast tentatively, all the while watching you for your reaction. When you didn’t pull away he squeezed gently, rubbing your nipple with his thumb.

You pressed your lips together, trying to suppress a moan, because everything he was doing was making you feel so good. He kept watching your reaction, and when he was satisfied that you were reacting favorably he got bolder, his hand slipping down between your legs.

You yelped when he touched you there, your legs involuntarily closing and trapping his hand. He froze, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Sorry,” you apologized, flushing with embarrassment, “reflex reaction.”

“It’s okay,” he said softly, as you slowly opened up your legs again. He moved his hand slowly, gently, just rubbing the inside of your thigh. “You can relax, Y/N, I promise I won’t hurt you.” His words were soft, his tone gentle, and it did wonders to calm and soothe you.

You nodded, giving him the go-ahead, and he reached tentatively with his finger, just lightly touching your folds. The electricity you felt when he first touched you came back with a vengeance, and you almost melted right into the bed. Your reaction encouraged him though, and he pressed his finger further in, rubbing your wetness around. When he was satisfied with the state of your arousal he got into position between your legs, placing the tip of his cock at your entrance. He paused, looking you in the eye, gently stroking your cheek.

“Ready?” he asked gently, “I’ll go slow.”

You nodded vigorously, to be honest the anticipation was killing you and you were very much aroused, wanting him to just get on with it. When he pushed into you though, you realized you should really be careful what you wished for. The feeling of him stretching you was almost too much, every inch he pushed in agonizingly slow amplifying your arousal to a dizzying degree. By the time he was seated all the way inside you you were panting, almost out of breath already.

“Okay?” he asked, through gritted teeth. You could tell he was holding back for dear life, but he purposely went achingly slow to make sure you were comfortable.

“Yes,” you said, having adjusted to his size, “you can move now.” Your pussy clenched involuntarily around him and he hissed.

“Don’t do that, Y/N,” he groaned, “I won’t last.”

“Sorry,” you said sheepishly, and as if to get you back he snapped his hips, making you cry out.

“Fuck!” you screamed, and that definitely encouraged him, and he set a pace, fucking you into the mattress. You felt your toes curl, a familiar knot building in your stomach. Once again, you thought, you felt like you shouldn’t be enjoying it as much as you were, it was more important for him to come inside you. “Come on, baby, come for me,” you whispered in his ear, hoping the dirty talk would encourage him.

“Almost there,” he grunted, and as much as you tried not to enjoy it, the way he was drilling into you felt too good. You bit your lip and grasped at the sheets, trying to keep your orgasm down, but he took it as a sign that you were about to come. He reached between you and thumbed your clit, and at that moment your orgasm exploded out of you without warning. He groaned as you clenched around him, finally spilling his seed inside you. You were dizzy, mind hazy from your orgasm, but you were content at the feeling of his cum inside you. He started to pull out, then stopped.

“Oh,” he said, and you looked up at him to see why he was saying that.

“What is it?” you asked.

“It’s leaking out of you,” he pointed down between your legs. You panicked.

“Well you’re not supposed to pull out right away!” you wrung your hands frantically, “push it back in!”

He looked at you incredulously, before looking down at his already softening cock, realizing it was useless at that point. So he just used his fingers, gathering up the cum that had leaked down and pushing it back into your pussy. You bit your lip again, because the more he pushed in, the more aroused you became, surprised that you weren’t oversensitive at this point. He must’ve noticed your reaction because he didn’t stop, pushing in further and further, in and out, faster and faster, until you were coming again, pussy pulsing around his fingers.

You took a deep breath to regulate your breathing, while he pulled his fingers out of you and sat back.

“Are you okay?” he asked, when you still lay there, unmoving.

“Yes,” you responded, staring up at the ceiling.

“Well, I guess I’ll get going,” he said awkwardly, when you didn’t say anything else.

You nodded, still staring up at the ceiling. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll be here.” He dressed without saying anything more and left the room.

---

He came over again the next night, and you repeated the same awkward scene from the night before. This continued for a few cycles, with no success, and again you were losing hope.

“Maybe there’s something wrong with me,” you said dejectedly one day. Jaehyun looked over at you, concern etched on his face.

“The doctor said you were fine,” he replied, attempting to soothe you.

“Maybe there’s something wrong with you then,” you huffed, but Jaehyun just shook his head.

“Y/N, they put us through a bunch of tests and said we’re both fine,” he put a hand on your knee to reassure you.

“Then why isn’t it working?” you lamented, on the verge of tears.

“Do you want my opinion?” he asked hesitantly. You looked up at him in surprise.

“Yeah, of course,” you replied, curious as to what he had to say.

“Well, I’ve been reading those links the doctor sent, and it said stress is a big factor,” he stated carefully, “I think you just need to relax, and let it happen.”

You were floored. On the one hand you were touched that he had actually read the links the doctor had sent (you had been too impatient to bother), on the other hand, what exactly did he mean by ‘letting it happen’?

“Let’s do things differently next time, what do you think?” he had a twinkle in his eye that was starting to alarm you.

“What do you have in mind?” you asked suspiciously.

“You’ll see.” He smiled, much too widely for your liking.

---

The next time came around and you were more nervous than you were the first night, and if this was his idea of making it more relaxed he was already failing miserably. When he showed up at your door though, you almost didn’t recognize him.

Instead of a t-shirt and sweats, he was wearing a crisp white button-down and jeans that sat sexily on his hips. Instead of his hair flat and falling in his face he had it pulled back, with just a few strands falling over his forehead. He also smelled incredible, a musky scent that forever trapped you in his hold, and made you want him in every way he would let you.

He smiled at you, but not in the way a friend smiles at a friend, and when he leaned in to give you a kiss on the cheek you almost passed out from the warmth of his lips and the intoxicating scent emanating from his skin. He walked past you to the bedroom, leaving you standing there with your mouth open and your underwear dampening.

When you finally collected yourself, you went upstairs to hear the bath running. You walked into the bathroom to see him drawing a bath, candles surrounding the tub, flower petals in the water, and the most luscious smelling bath bomb marinating in it.

“Jaehyun, what-”

“Shh,” he put a finger to your lips, and even that act was so sensual you had to squeeze your legs together, “let me take care of you.” He reached down and turned off the water. “Get undressed and get in the bath, and I’ll come back and help you get relaxed.” He left the room and you did what he said, calling him back in once you were in the bath and the cloudy bubbly water reached the tops of your breasts.

He had such a calm and serene look on his face that it almost threw you off, but then he was taking your puff and squeezing body wash on it.

“May I?” he asked, and when you nodded he gently took your arm and ran the puff along it. He did the same with the other arm, and that simple act, along with the warmth of the bath water, did wonders to soothe you. You felt like you were floating, with the calming scents of the bath bomb, and his gentle touch. He started to run the puff along your neck and you bent your head back and sighed. Soon enough he was dipping below the surface of the water, running the puff between your breasts, and you sighed even deeper as he got lower, past your stomach, and lower still. The puff was forgotten, and now it was just his hand, reaching down between your legs. It all felt so good, you spread your legs even wider, wanting more.

“How does it feel?” he whispered, so close to your ear you shuddered.

“So good,” you couldn’t help but moan, and then his hand was there, cupping your pussy.

“I want to make you feel good, Y/N,” he purred, his voice like honey, “will you let me make you feel good?”

“Yes,” the word came out on a long exhale, as he plunged a finger between your folds, and you couldn’t help but fall apart. He fingered you until you came, water splashing all around you as you writhed in pleasure. When you were done he picked you up out of the bath, not caring that his clothes were getting wet, and carried you to the bed. You couldn’t care that you were probably soaking the bed, because his lips were on your neck, hot and urgent, leaving marks that you’d have trouble concealing the next day.

You pulled at his shirt, wanting it off already, and he obliged, throwing the damp fabric to a corner of the room. You rubbed your hands all over his chest, feeling the firm muscle there, then down to his abs. He groaned against your neck when you undid his belt and slipped your hand over his hardened cock.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he hissed, when you wrapped your hand around it and pumped.

“Don’t come yet,” you whispered, taking your hand away, opting instead to pull the rest of his jeans and boxers off. You wrapped your legs around him, encouraging him to enter you, but he pulled back slightly.

“Slow down,” he breathed, and you could feel him smiling against your neck, “this isn’t a race, Y/N,” he continued kissing down the column of your neck, down to your chest, “relax, and let me make you feel good.”

You finally relented, relaxing as he’d ordered, letting yourself melt into the mattress as he sucked on your skin. Your body was on fire, both from the heat of the bath you just had as well as the way his lips were ruining you. When he got down to your lower stomach you realized where he was headed, and instead of fighting the pleasure you were feeling you simply gave in. As soon as his wet tongue collided with your wet folds you let go, moaning wantonly at the feeling. Every sound you made spurred him on, every jerk and jolt of your body gave him the impetus to push you to the height of pleasure, until you were yanking at his hair and convulsing around his tongue.

“That was fucking hot, Y/N,” he almost growled, wiping at his chin as he moved to hover above you, “I almost came.”

“Don’t,” you panted, trying to catch your breath, “you need to come inside me.”

“You want it? Want my cum inside you, fill you up,” his voice was deep, intense, a tone you’d never heard from him, and certainly words you’d never heard from him, but it certainly was doing the job and making you very aroused.

“Oh god,” you exclaimed, unaware that dirty talk was something you liked. Your previous boyfriends hadn’t been this filthy, but you found you loved it.

“I’m gonna fuck you hard, and you’re gonna take all of my cum,” he continued, voice raspy, breath hot in your ear, “I’m gonna knock you the fuck up, and watch your belly grow with my baby.”

“Jaehyun!” you cried out, losing yourself completely. You grabbed a hold of his neck and pulled him down, and for a split second you saw his eyes grow wide as you smashed your lips against his, your no-kissing rule forgotten. He kissed you with the same passion and intensity that he ate you out with, and you wondered why you had ever put that no-kissing rule into place if he could make you feel like that with his lips. You moaned when his tongue entered your mouth, just as he slid his cock inside you.

This time you didn’t hold back, allowing yourself to feel everything. The way his cock slid in and out of you, the way the tip kept hitting that spot so deep inside you. The way his tongue moved in your mouth, the way his hands rubbed up and down your body, sometimes squeezing your breasts and flicking your nipples. Your hands roamed over his back, feeling his muscles move, and when you felt your orgasm start to build you dragged your nails against his skin.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna come,” he broke from the kiss to drop his head down to your chest, his thrusts getting harder but more erratic.

“Oh god, do it,” you panted, your orgasm about to burst out of you, “fill me up, baby, I want your cum so bad.”

That was enough to send him over the edge, and he pulled you flush against him as he came inside you, the particularly forceful thrusts triggering your own orgasm and making you clench around him. He let out a loud groan as you milked him, fingernails digging into his back.

When you were both done you held him against you, not wanting to let him go. He obliged, just holding you, his face tucked against your neck. You could feel his hot breath against your skin and that, along with his arms around you and his weight on top of you was all oddly comforting.

“I’m gonna pull out,” he finally said, when he had gone soft inside you. You sighed but nodded, and once he had pulled out you clamped your legs together, trying to keep as much of his cum inside you as you could.

He dressed quietly and you watched him, heart stuttering in your chest, your mind reeling. You had promised him that the sex wouldn’t change anything in your relationship, but you couldn’t believe how wrong you were. You wanted to reach for him, wanted him to stay, but you held back.

“Thanks for that,” you said quietly, and he turned to you and smiled.

“You’re welcome,” he said sincerely, “I’ll do anything for you,” and he brought his hand up and cupped your cheek, his eyes soft as he looked at you, “you’re my best friend.”

You smiled at him, but inside your heart was breaking. How could you ever think you could do this and keep your friendship as it was?

---

A few weeks later you were late, and although you tried not to get your hopes up you couldn’t help but think this was it. You waited to take the pregnancy test, wanting Jaehyun to be there no matter the outcome.

“What is it? What’s wrong? You said it’s an emergency.” He looked so concerned when he came over, and you almost felt bad for not saying what it was about right away.

“I’m late, Jaehyun,” you announced nervously.

“Where do you have to be?”

“No, I mean my period! I haven’t gotten my period yet!”

He paused, the pieces finally falling into place, and his face suddenly lit up. “Oh shit!” He covered his mouth with his hand as he looked at you with wide eyes.

“Come with me, I’m gonna take a pregnancy test.” You led him upstairs where he waited outside the bathroom door while you took the test. You placed the stick on the counter and opened the door to let him in.

“Well? What does it say?” he asked, rubbing his hands in anticipation.

“It’s gonna take a few minutes,” you answered nervously, “I can’t look, tell me what it says.” You turned away, so anxious you thought you would pass out.

“One line, so far,” he stated, and you tried to stay calm but your heart was beating out of your chest.

“Hold my hand,” you reached behind you and he took your hand in his, squeezing to comfort you. He was silent for a while, and you couldn’t take it anymore. “Well? What does it say now?”

“I see…” he started to say, and you so desperately wanted to turn around but you were too scared.

“What?! Just say it!”

He pulled you to him, turning you around and lifting the stick up to your eye level. “Two lines.”

You blinked a few times, wanting to make sure you were seeing it right, but every time you opened your eyes there were two solid lines. You were pregnant.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, both of your hands going up to cover your mouth. Jaehyun whooped in celebration, jumping up and down with glee. You saw the genuine happiness in his face and so many emotions ran through you that the only thing you could do was burst into tears.

“Aw, Y/N, don’t cry!” he laughed, gathering you into his arms, thinking you were just crying from happiness. But it was so much more complicated than that. You were getting what you wanted, a baby, but you hadn’t prepared yourself for all the complications of having a baby with your best friend, who you may have developed feelings for.

---

The first trimester was hell. You were throwing up every morning, and feeling nausea for the rest of the day. You had an aversion to most food, even hating the smell of certain things, like meat. The only things you could keep down were bread and noodles, and you wondered how the baby could grow when that was all that you ate. But at every appointment the doctor reassured you that the baby was doing well and developing at a good rate. Jaehyun insisted on going with you to your first ultrasound and as much as you wanted him to, you also dreaded it.

When the fuzzy form of your baby showed up on the screen for the first time you felt a surge of happiness overcome you, tears springing to your eyes at the sight of the tiny figure on the screen. You heard Jaehyun inhale sharply and turned to look at him. The awe in his face was so endearing it made the tears run down your cheeks, and seeing your reaction he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for a hug.

“That’s our baby,” he whispered, his voice almost breaking, and you cried harder.

“Congratulations!” the technician said, patting you both on the shoulder. You felt like you should correct her, tell her that although the baby was technically yours and Jaehyun’s, you weren’t together and wouldn’t be raising the baby as such. But how do you explain that to a complete stranger? You looked over at Jaehyun, who was smiling from ear to ear, shaking the technician’s hand and making no move to explain the situation.

Later, as you were getting ready to leave the clinic, you saw the technician hand over a copy of the ultrasound picture to Jaehyun. He took it happily in his hands, as if it were the most precious thing in the world. As he walked towards you he slipped it into the plastic window spot in his wallet, where your drivers’ license should be, but his now housed a blurry black and white photo of your baby.

“Hey, wanna get something to eat to celebrate?” he asked, slinging an arm around you as you both left the clinic.

You shook your head. As much as you wanted to spend time with him, you found it hurt more than it helped. Once the baby was born you’d have to deal with him being around more often, so it was better to save up your strength for that.

“I’m actually really tired, I just want to go home and rest,” you answered without looking up at him, “besides, I’m still off most foods.”

“Oh, okay, makes sense.” He said, removing his arm from around your shoulder and stuffing his hands in his pockets. He didn’t sound upset or offended, but when you looked at him out of the corner of your eye you saw a flash of emotion cross his face, almost like hurt or disappointment. You felt bad, knowing you had been avoiding him, even giving up your weekly brunches, but you felt it was better this way.

“Listen, I’ll let you know when the next ultrasound is, okay? You can come with me again.” You wanted just to wipe the look of disappointment off his face, and luckily it worked.

“Yeah, that would be great! Thanks so much, Y/N,” he leaned down and hugged you, and it was the closest he’d been to you since the last time you’d had sex to make the baby. You held him close, committing the feel of him and the scent of him to memory, before you pulled away and walked towards your car.

---

If the first trimester had been hell, the second trimester was heaven. Miraculously the nausea disappeared, and you found yourself actually craving food. You felt more energized and less tired, and slept so much better. Your belly was starting to grow, and you actually had to start shopping for maternity clothes. Your mood was so much better, but what really came back with a vengeance was your libido. During the first trimester you couldn’t even think about sex, but now, it was all you could think about.

Usually your vibrator would do the trick, but there were always moments where you’d think about Jaehyun, think about how good he could make you feel. Sometimes just thinking about him fucking you was enough to get you off, but when you really thought about him, about the feeling of his cock parting your folds, or the feeling of his strong hips pounding into you, his face sweaty and his scent overpowering the air between you, nothing was better than the real thing.

Which is how you found yourself one night, holding your phone and dialing his number without hesitation.

“Hey, what’s up,” he answered, his voice sounding distant. You realized you hadn’t spoken to or seen him in weeks, and instantly you felt terrible.

“Um, actually nothing. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t wake me,” you could hear him shuffling around, like he had been lying down and started to sit up, “is something wrong, Y/N?”

He always saw right through you, you could hear the concern is his voice, and there was no turning back now.

“Could you come over? I think I need some… company.” You didn’t know if you could just ask for sex over the phone, and was it really only sex that you wanted? Or did you just want him there, with you.

“Yeah, yeah, sure, I can come over,” you heard more shuffling, like he was getting dressed, “are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’ll be better when you’re here.” You answered truthfully.

When he showed up at your door you couldn’t stop yourself from pulling him towards you and hugging him tightly. He didn’t protest, just held you and rubbed your back gently.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked softly against your hair.

“I miss you,” you admitted, voice muffled against his chest because you were too ashamed to look at him.

“I’m around, you know,” he chuckled, “you’re the one who cancelled our brunches.”

You pulled back and forced yourself to make eye contact with him. “No, Jaehyun, I miss you.” You touched his chest when you said it, giving him a look laden with meaning. He understood right away, his eyebrows rising slightly. You took him by the hand and pulled him inside, leading him upstairs and to your bedroom. He let himself be led, but once you were behind closed doors he suddenly took you into his arms and kissed you. The kiss wasn’t subtle, or gentle, it was intense and forceful, his intent surely to rile you up. It definitely worked, because you could feel wetness pooling in your panties as he stuck his tongue down your throat.

“You want my cock again,” he growled, breaking from the kiss to suck a line down your throat. You gasped at his aggressiveness, but you had to admit it really turned you on.

“Yes,” you breathed out, as he stripped you of your clothes and pushed you towards the bed. You fumbled at his clothes, trying to get them off but you found your limbs were weak from the way he was handling you. He took over, stripping off the rest of his clothes, his cock springing forward when he pulled his boxers down. You admired it for only a second before he turned you around, pushing you onto your hands and knees on the bed.

“You like my cock, don’t you, you like me fucking into your little pussy,” he spoke so low, his chest flush against your back so you could feel the reverberation of his voice.

You didn’t have a chance to answer, because he rammed his cock into you, a scream tearing from your throat as he went as deep as he could.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips as he started to pound into you. You weren’t sure how pregnant sex would feel, since so many things were changing in your body, but you weren’t prepared for what you got. It felt like your entire body was on fire, pleasure coursing through every part of you. He hit places inside you that you’d never felt before, and all of it was like nothing you’d ever experienced.

“Jae,” you panted, “Jae, oh my god!” your orgasm was coming on, super fast and beyond your control.

“You’re gonna come already, baby? Alright, come on, come all over my cock,” he reached down, and although it was a little awkward because of your belly, he managed to get to your clit and rub it with the pad of his thumb.

Your vision went white when your orgasm hit, your fingers and toes going numb as your pussy clenched around his cock. You could barely hold yourself up, your upper body falling to the bed as you convulsed around him. He kept going, fucking you through it, and when you stilled he pulled out and lay you on your back. He gave you a moment to catch your breath, before he entered you again. You cried out at the oversensitivity, but he went slowly, and soon enough you started to feel pleasure again.

“I can keep going,” he said, as he fucked into you at a slow but deliberate pace, “you want more, don’t you?”

You nodded vigorously, already feeling another orgasm building. He propped himself up then, and pounded into you, the bed shaking from his harsh thrusts. You gripped and pulled at the sheets, unable to contain the needy whines and moans coming up out of your mouth. You forced your eyes open to see him hovering over you, a look of intense concentration on his face, his brow sweaty, hair falling into his eyes. When he saw you looking at him his concentration faltered, and he bent his head down for a kiss. You were expecting a kiss to match the intensity with which he was fucking you, but instead it was soft, gentle, lingering. You felt something in it, something above and beyond what he was doing to you, something that carried you where you most wanted to be but didn’t dare go. The orgasm you had then was different, not just purely physical, not just filled with lust, but something more elevated, more emotional.

He broke the kiss to grunt loudly as he came, spilling more of his seed inside you. When he was done he pulled out, and sat at the edge of the bed.

“Y/N,” he said, and you don’t know why he sounded so defeated. You sat up, preparing yourself for what he was going to say.

“Jaehyun,” you reached for him but thought better of it, your hand dropping into your lap.

“I can’t keep doing this with you,” he said, his voice quiet but determined, “it’s fucking me up and I don’t know what to do with myself.”

Your heart sank. He was pulling out of your life, and it was all your fault for doing this to him. “I’m so sorry, Jaehyun.”

He got dressed hurriedly, without looking back at you, and before he opened the door to leave he turned back.

“You need to decide for yourself what you want me to be,” he still didn’t look at you, opting to look at the floor instead, “I’ll always be here for you, but I need to know where I stand.”

The door closing behind him echoed in the room, the absence of him already settling into your heart.

---

You went through the rest of the second trimester on your own, too ashamed and heartbroken to see Jaehyun, and too confused to sort out your feelings. He’d text you once in a while to ask you how you were doing, how you were feeling, but there was no talk beyond the pregnancy. He didn’t come to any more of your doctor’s appointments, nor did you ever invite him to any more in the first place. The third trimester hit even worse than the first, your belly was now so big it was almost uncomfortable to do anything, you now had constant heartburn, and you were going to the bathroom every ten minutes because of the weight on your bladder.

About a month before your due date, you were making dinner in the kitchen when you felt an uncomfortable tightening in your abdomen. You clutched your stomach, gripping the counter in alarm and wondering what you should do. The feeling came and went, but returned after a few minutes. Concerned, you called your doctor, who advised you to come in to the hospital just to get checked out. As you were getting ready you got a text from Jaehyun, asking how you were doing.

Jaehyun: hey just doing my check-in

JH: how is it going today

Me: well it’s probably nothing but

Me: just going to the hospital to get checked out

JH: wait what

JH: let me take you

Me: i should be ok

JH: Y/N pls let me take you

Me: ok

JH: thank you i’ll be right there

You sighed, wishing you had never told him and made him worry. Luckily you didn’t have to wait long since he lived nearby, and soon enough he was pulling up to your house. You didn’t bother to wait for him to come to the door, coming out as soon as you saw his car. You were locking the front door when the uncomfortable feeling came back, making you double over, clutching your stomach.

“Y/N!” you heard Jaehyun yell behind you, and soon enough his arms were cradling you as you crouched over. “What happened? What’s going on?”

His voice sounded frantic, terrified, and when you looked up in his eyes he looked so scared that it made your chest ache.

You smiled weakly, trying to placate him, “Don’t worry, it’s probably just false labor,” you patted him on the arm and soon enough the feeling went away. “My doctor just wants me to come in and get checked out, just in case.”

He nodded, but didn’t look reassured at all, creases of worry still lining his face. He also didn’t let you go, holding onto your arm as you walked to the car. At the hospital he didn’t leave your side, until the doctor came to do your examination.

“I’ll wait outside,” he said hesitantly, but you could tell he didn’t want to leave at all, eyes looking longingly back at you as he left the room.

After the doctor examined you and reassured you that it really was just false labor, you were cleared to leave and found Jaehyun in the hall, pacing. Once he saw you he ran up to you, searching your face with frantic eyes.

“Well? What happened?” he’d taken your hands in his, and his palms felt cold and clammy.

“It was nothing, just false labor, the doctor told me to go home and rest.” You reassured him, squeezing his hands and smiling softly at him. He let out a long breath, collapsing into a nearby chair.

“Oh my god, Y/N, I almost died!” he passed the back of his hand over his eyes dramatically, and you suppressed a giggle at his overdramatic show.

“Don’t laugh!” he sat up and looked at you incredulously, “I lost ten years of my life just now!”

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” you pressed your lips together trying not to smile. He broke into a wide grin then, pleased with himself that he had managed to lighten your mood with his sense of humor.

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

---

The drive from the hospital had been quiet, both of you realizing that there was still this huge wall between you, and neither of you were brave enough to breach it. He walked you to your door in continued silence, and once you reached your doorstep he turned around to walk back to his car.

“Jaehyun,” you called, unable to stand it anymore, “do you wanna come in and talk?”

He turned around, a mixture of hope, fear, and resignation on his face, and nodded.

The time apart had made you realize how much you missed him, and seeing him again had made you realize how much you still wanted him to be a part of your life. You were hoping to salvage something of your relationship, but you were fully aware that you could never go back to what it had been.

You sat him down on the sofa and took a deep breath.

“Jaehyun,” you began, getting more and more nervous as you went on, “I know I made things weird, even though I promised I wouldn’t,” he opened his mouth to say something but you stopped him, determined to get out what you wanted to say. “I was so focused on having a baby that I didn’t think about what involving you would mean, and what it would do to our friendship. I think I was just naive, I didn’t think anything would change, and I was so wrong.”

He sat across from you, and even though he was just inches away it felt like he was miles away, like an unfathomable chasm had opened up between you. Then he looked up at you, hesitant, but determined.

“Y/N, we can’t go back and change things anymore. What’s happened has happened.” He tilted his head to regard you, taking a deep breath before moving on, “so I just need to know one thing.”

“What is it?”

“Do you want me to be a part of your life?”

“Yes. Always.” You answered truthfully, without a doubt in your mind. He smiled, but there was still something behind his eyes.

“Hey, do you remember that pact we made in eighth grade?” He suddenly asked, his eyes twinkling.

“The marriage one?” you scanned your eighth grade memories and that was the only pact you could think of.

“Yeah, the one where we said if neither of us are married by the time we’re thirty, we’ll marry each other?”

“Yes, I remember.” It was during PE class, when you and Jaehyun were sitting in the field while everyone else was running around chasing soccer balls. You don’t remember how the subject came up, but soon enough you were doing pinky swears and Jaehyun was fashioning rings out of blades of grass for you and him to wear. You both had a good laugh over it, and never thought about it again until this moment.

“So what if we didn’t wait?”

“What do you mean?”

“What if we didn’t wait until we’re thirty, what if we just did it now? I mean, we’re having a baby together already.”

“Jaehyun, are you proposing right now?” you said it as a joke, even chuckling to yourself, you weren’t taking the whole thing seriously at all, except Jaehyun wasn’t laughing.

“I mean, I don’t have a ring, but…” he looked around the room, and seeing your spider plant on a nearby table he picked a leaf off and rolled it around itself, making a ring out of it, and slipped it on your finger. You were speechless.

“Jaehyun, you’re serious.” You managed to say after the thoughts stopped running through your brain. You hadn’t really thought about marriage, none of the guys you’d dated had ever made you think about it. You knew you wanted kids, but marriage was something you figured you couldn’t achieve, never having found the right guy. Yet here he was all along, Jeong Jaehyun, your best friend, someone who knew you inside and out. A dawning realization hit you then, that maybe none of your relationships ever worked out because you kept comparing them to Jaehyun, and no one ever held up. You were in love with your best friend, and you didn’t even know it.

“Well?” he asked, with raised eyebrows and hopeful eyes. You stared at the leaf ring on your finger, turning it around and around, your heart and mind finally finding peace in your realization. You looked up at him, cupping his face, and he looked like he was bracing himself for a possibly negative response.

“Yes.” You answered, smiling brightly at him, and it took him a moment to realize you weren’t turning him down. His face broke out into a wide grin, his dimples as deep as ever, his eyes shiny. He pulled you in for a hug, but your belly made it somewhat awkward.

“Oh my god, Y/N, you’re huge!” he looked down at your belly in awe.

“Jaehyun what the fuck!” you smacked him on the arm, slightly offended.

“No, I meant I was too busy being worried about you that I never noticed how big your belly had gotten.” He reached out his hand tentatively. “Can I touch?”

“Of course,” you said, happy that you could share this with him. You took his hand and placed it on your belly.

“Can you feel the baby move?” He asked, eyes growing wide when his hand landed on your stomach.

“Sometimes, mostly when I’m lying still though.” You let him rub his hand over your stomach, endeared at how awestruck he was, his mouth forming a little ‘o’ as he moved his hand around. He suddenly leaned forward, his face getting very close to your belly.

“Hey little one,” he called softly, and your heart clenched at the sight of him talking to the baby in your belly, “I’m your dad.”

Suddenly you felt a jolt in your ribs, as the baby stretched and kicked inside you.

“Oh my god, Y/N! Did you feel that?” Jaehyun clapped excitedly.

“Damn right I felt it,” you groaned, patting your stomach, “keep it down in there, kicking mama in the ribs really hurts!”

Jaehyun burst out laughing, gathering you in his arms and hugging you tightly. “That was adorable!” he exclaimed, and your heart felt warm as you wrapped your arms around him.

---

You decided to just do a small backyard ceremony for your wedding, neither of you fond of big parties that meant even bigger expenses. Jaehyun moved into your house since he had been rooming with a friend, and once all of his things had been moved in and installed, you were left alone with each other once again.

You don’t know why, but your first night as a married couple felt like the first night you’d had sex, awkward as hell. Once again you stood on either side of the bed, unsure as to what to do.

“Bed?” he finally asked after you’d both stood there for too long.

“Bed,” you answered, and you both got in at the same time. You couldn’t help but laugh at your awkwardness, and that certainly broke the tension. You turned to your side, the only way you could get comfortable with how big your belly was, and he slotted his body behind you, wrapping an arm around you and resting his hand on your belly. You sighed contentedly, loving the feeling of being in his arms.

“This is nice,” he whispered, but his breath against your ear made you shiver, and suddenly contentment wasn’t the only thing you were feeling. Not to mention his hand that was on your belly had moved to your hip, fingers tracing wide circles over the fabric of your sleep shorts.

“Jaehyun,” you didn’t mean to, but his name came out in a moan, and his hand stopped its circuit, the faintest bit of pressure being applied to your hip.

“Y/N?” he questioned, but you were taking his hand and moving it up to your breasts. Once he cupped them you moaned again. “Holy shit, Y/N, your boobs are huge!”

“Jaehyun!” you reprimanded him, but he apologized quickly.

“Sorry, sorry, I just-” he cupped and squeezed, feeling the weight of them, “wow,” was all he could say.

“Well they won’t be this big for too long, so you better take advantage of them now,” you encouraged, and he did, tweaking your nipples until you were moaning into your pillow.

“Tell me if I do anything that hurts, or makes you feel uncomfortable, okay?” he whispered into your ear, before he started to plant wet kisses along your neck and shoulder. Your mind went hazy at the feeling of his lips on your skin, and soon he slipped a hand down, past the waistband of your shorts.

You inhaled sharply when his fingers found you wet, when he gathered some of your arousal to rub it around your clit. You moaned loudly when he made circles around your bud, pressing your face further into your pillow.

“Don’t do that, baby, I wanna hear you,” he pulled the covers off and pushed your pillow away, helping you take off your shirt and the rest of your clothes so you were fully exposed to him. He looked at you, lust and hunger clouding his eyes. “Fuck, you look so gorgeous knocked up with my baby.”

Your pussy clenched at his words and you pulled at his own clothes to get him to take them off. “Come here and fuck me, husband.”

Your words ignited something in him, and he bent down, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder and pushing into you. You cried out, not caring anymore how loud you were being, the feeling of his cock inside you throwing you into the heights of pleasure. Once you started though, you couldn’t stop, moans and whimpers and whines tumbling out of your lips as he pumped his cock inside you.

“You like it, don’t you?” he growled, “you like my cock so much you let me knock you up.”

You moaned even louder at his words, your orgasm starting to build in the pit of your stomach. “Yes, god, yes!”

“You want my cum, baby? Look at where it got you, huh? You let me come inside you and now you’re knocked up.” His voice was raspy, deep, and it cut right to your core.

“Fuck, Jaehyun! I’m gonna come!” you warned him, grasping at the sheets as your orgasm hit you, your pussy pulsing around his cock. It didn’t take much longer for him to come, one last thrust that took your breath away, and he spilled his seed into you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, brushing aside a strand of hair that had fallen into your face, “did it hurt at all?”

“No, not at all, it felt good,” you smiled at him, wanting to alleviate his concern. He looked relieved, before he bent down and kissed the swell of your stomach.

“Sorry, baby,” he said sheepishly, addressing the baby, and you could only laugh, rubbing a hand through his hair as he smiled up at you.

---

The next day Jaehyun had left for work, and you were almost out the door yourself when you felt something gush between your legs. You figured you knew what it was and, resolved to stay calm, you quickly called Jaehyun.

“Babe, what is it?” he answered on the first ring.

“I think my water broke.”

“Okay, stay calm, I’m on my way back.”

It didn’t take long for him to come back since he’d just left, and you drove to the hospital all the while holding tightly to his hand. The contractions started then, not too bad at first but as time went on the pain was hard to bear. By the time you reached the hospital you were grimacing in pain and Jaehyun was yelling for someone to come and help you.

You labored for hours, Jaehyun never leaving your side, giving you strength even when you felt like you had no more to give. You wondered how you could have ever done this without him, without his unwavering support, his cheerful but calm demeanor raising you up when you felt like giving in. Soon enough you had a healthy baby in your hands, a boy that an ecstatic Jaehyun had already dubbed his ‘mini me’.

---

If you had known what the first few weeks with a newborn would have been like you would have seriously rethought having a baby in the first place. You were exhausted more than you had ever been in your life, catching sleep for only those precious moments when the baby would sleep. Your breasts were sore from breastfeeding, and if you never saw another poopy diaper in your life it would be too soon. What made it all worth it, was the look of pure innocence in your baby’s eyes, and the way your husband would stare at him like he was the most precious person in the world.

One night you were woken again by the baby’s cries, and trudging to his room you were surprised to see Jaehyun already there.

“Sorry to wake you,” he whispered, “I was changing him and he lost his binky.” You stood in the doorway and watched as your husband expertly handled your son, swaddling him in his blankets and making sure the pacifier was situated in his mouth. “Go back to bed, I got this.”

Jaehyun had done many things during your time together that you considered sexy, but this was probably the sexiest thing he had ever done. You walked back to your bedroom, mentally reminding yourself to reward him when you were more awake.

You lay in bed though, unable to fall back asleep. Your mind was racing, anxieties resurfacing at that dark and quiet time of night. Jaehyun eventually came back, sliding into the bed and spooning you, his arm coming to wrap around your waist.

“Jae?” you whispered, hoping he hadn’t fallen back asleep right away.

“Hm? I thought you were asleep.” He sounded tired, tightening his arm around you.

“Is this the life you wanted?” you asked him, rubbing his arm that was wrapped around you.

“Absolutely.” He answered, without hesitation.

“No, I’m serious.”

“So am I. Why wouldn’t you think I was being serious?” he suddenly propped himself up on his elbow so he could see your face.

“Because you had a life before this, and now it’s just-” you waved your hand in the air, “me and the baby.”

“Just you and the baby? Y/N, you and Yuno are the most important things in my life right now.” He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “Yeah I had Friday night drinks and Sunday basketball games, and that was fun and all, but you two are my family now.”

“Don’t you miss it?”

“If I did I’d just go and do it? So no, I don’t miss it right now. Maybe eventually? But that doesn’t mean I’d love you and Yuno less.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d told you he loved you, but you knew you’d never get tired of hearing it. You’d been surprised when he’d told you he’d been in love with you for a while, not daring to say anything about it for fear of ruining your friendship. When you’d told him that you wanted to have a baby he knew that there was no one else in the world that he wanted to bear his children except you, and he was relieved when you accepted his offer of being a sperm donor. He had been prepared to be just that, but the sex threw everything into chaos, including his feelings for you and his resolve to keep your relationship as just friends. He felt himself falling even deeper for you, but his heart couldn’t handle the push and pull he was feeling from you. He never wanted to pull out of your life, and he spent more time staring at his phone waiting for you to call or text than he dared to admit. Bringing up the marriage pact had been a gamble, and he was terrified that you’d say no, but when you said yes, he could barely contain his happiness.

“Listen,” he said, taking your hand in his, “this life is more than I could have ever asked for.”

“Really?” you asked, turning to look at him, “With me?”

“Baby, it’s always been you.”

#jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun smut #nct imagines #nct smut

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princesssarisa · 2 years

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Fictional character ask Jane Bennet?

Favorite thing about them: I like her sweet, loving, compassionate personality, and the way she serves as a warm, safe confidante for Elizabeth in a way that none of her other family members do. I also like the fact that she's not just sweet and ladylike (even if she is mistaken for just that: see below). She has an underlying stubbornness too, as shown by how she clings to her idealism no matter how much Elizabeth tries to playfully skewer it, and contrary to popular belief, she's not perfect: she almost loses her man because she's too reserved about her feelings for him, and she can be naïve and over-idealistic to the point of comedy. But this doesn't make her stupid; sometimes her sympathy for others is very right while Elizabeth's witty skepticism is wrong. She's just an all-around likable character.

Least favorite thing about them: Nothing about her personally, but about some of the commentary she inspires. I don't know just how bad it is because I'm not deep in the Austen fandom, but I've already seen too many people write about how "boring" she is, how she's "too perfect to be real," how she's "weaker" and "less intelligent" than Elizabeth, and how Austen must have meant her as a "deconstruction" of traditional femininity.

Now, I'm not saying there isn't some truth in that last part. Jane does embody all the ideal traits of a 19th century lady and of the traditional romantic heroine: beautiful, kind, innocent, gentle, reserved, well-mannered, selfless, forgiving, falls in love easily and tenderly... even the four-day cold she catches can be viewed as a milder version of the deathly illnesses so common among delicate 19th century heroines. Maybe it is significant that Austen took this classic heroine-type figure and made her a supporting character, while the more complex, unconventional Elizabeth gets to be the heroine, and maybe it does matter that some of her classic "feminine virtues" (namely her naïve, trusting nature and her ladylike shyness) are also her flaws. But she's not weaker than Elizabeth, and just because she's less quick-witted doesn't mean she's less smart: an important part of Elizabeth's character arc is to realize that her cynicism hasn't been wiser than Jane's idealism! She's not "too perfect" either; I've already covered that. And as for "boring," "well... I won't pretend she's as three-dimensional as Elizabeth, but I do think she's a fully developed character with some depth. I'd like to see more people explore the pressure she must feel to present a perfect ladylike image, or the idea that her relentless idealism might be her way of coping with her dysfunctional family, just like Elizabeth and Mr. Bennet's cynical wit is their coping mechanism. More of that, and less writing her off as just a dull cardboard "nice girl."

Three things I have in common with them:

*I like to believe the best of other people, because it hurts to believe the worst.

*I try to be kind to everyone.

*I can be shy and quiet in public, but I'm more talkative with my loved ones.

Three things I don't have in common with them:

*I don't have any sisters.

*I'm not expected to save my family from financial ruin with a good marriage.

*I'm not good at hiding my emotions – even when I try to look indifferent, my face always betrays me.

Favorite line:

Her response to Bingley's leaving, which stands out not only for her bravery in the face of heartbreak, but for her heartwarming generosity and lack of any anger toward Bingley (Elizabeth, of course, feels differently):

He may live in my memory as the most amiable man of my acquaintance, but that is all. I have nothing either to hope or fear, and nothing to reproach him with.

In her letter from London revealing her belated understanding of Caroline Bingley's false friendship:

My dearest Lizzy will, I am sure, be incapable of triumphing in her better judgement, at my expense, when I confess myself to have been entirely deceived in Miss Bingley’s regard for me. But, my dear sister, though the event has proved you right, do not think me obstinate if I still assert that, considering what her behaviour was, my confidence was as natural as your suspicion.

When she's newly engaged and blissfully happy:

"I am certainly the most fortunate creature that ever existed! Oh! Lizzy, why am I thus singled from my family, and blessed above them all! If I could but see you as happy! If there were but such another man for you!"

When she's still doubting Elizabeth's love for Darcy:

"Do anything rather than marry without affection."

When she finally believes it:

"Now I am quite happy, for you will be as happy as myself. I always had a value for him. Were it for nothing but his love of you, I must always have esteemed him; but now, as Bingley's friend and your husband, there can be only Bingley and yourself more dear to me."

(I agree with @anghraine that this line says something about the dysfunction of the Bennet family, even if it is half-joking – Jane has three other sisters and both of her parents still alive, but she says she'll love her brother-in-law more than anyone except her favorite sister and her husband!)

brOTP: Elizabeth.

OTP: Bingley.

nOTP: Her father, Mr. Collins, or Wickham.

Random headcanon: I'll borrow one from @anghraine: She's going to be best friends with Darcy once they're in-laws, and adore his and Elizabeth's children too. Since she's naturally good with children (she's implied to be the favorite older cousin of the Gardiners' little ones), and since Elizabeth and Darcy can both be prickly, their children will often turn to "Aunt Bingley" for the nurturing that their parents, however loving and well-meaning, will sometimes lack.

Unpopular opinion: She's not inhumanly perfect, but neither is she an insipid fool, and she deserves to be seen as a character in her own right, not just as a symbol of "ideal" Regency womanhood who contrasts with Elizabeth.

Song I associate with them: None at the moment.

Favorite pictures of them:

Not really a picture of her, but this painting of Mrs. Harriet Quentin by Jean François-Marie Huet-Villiers is thought to be the portrait that Austen saw in 1813 and described as looking exactly like her mental image of Jane:

Moving onto real Jane pictures, this watercolor by C.E. Brock:

This line drawing of Bingley's proposal by the same artist:

This drawing by his brother, H.M. Brock, showing her romance with Bingley blossoming as she recovers from her cold:

Sabina Franklyn, 1980 BBC miniseries:

Susannah Harker, 1995 BBC miniseries:

Rosamund Pike, 2005 film:

#character ask #jane austen #pride and prejudice #jane bennet #fictional characters #ask game

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smolcobie · 3 years

Text

Hyunjae | Butterfly Effect

↪ Summary: After a dangerous fire, Hyunjae is unable to hide his feelings for you.

Word Count: 3,5k

Warnings: Suggestive | Fire | Friends To Lovers | Heavy Making Out

Genre: Hyunjae x Reader | HYUNJAE FIREFIGHTER AU | Female Reader

Dedicated to my fav deobi friend @santacruz-sand <3

Human beings are known for their daily mistakes. We used to say that every day we make a mistake, some don't make that much difference, others can change the course of your life, better known as the butterfly effect. Each action has its reaction, gradually shaping the path you will take in life.

Some say that this is fate, that no matter how much you try to escape, it will happen. Others prefer to believe that you create your own destiny. I didn't believe in any of these theories, in fact, I always preferred to think that it is easier to do your best every day than to be disappointed by the path you took because you thought that this was your destiny after all.

The greatest example that my theory was real, was seeing how my best friend lived. Every single day he left early, before the sun came up, and came back when it was night. Being a firefighter required perfection in his form, discipline, punctuality, courage to face his fears, and a lot of willingness to risk his own life for the benefit of society.

I watched him cautiously, analyzing his ways and manners. The way he slammed the gate hard to make sure it was locked, or how he sighed and gave a silly smile when he managed to do something he liked, but what I liked most was the way he struggled every day to cheer people's lives.

- ▪︎ -

"[NAME], do your best every day and no one will have the courage to speak ill of the way you live." He said with his red cheeks and heavy eyes from the soju he drank.

"What are you talking about? I live very well, you're the one who lives next to my house and keeps risking your life." I laughed, fixing up his fringe that was messy "You're already starting to get drunk, let's go home." I got up pulling on his shirt and he made a weeping face.

"[NAME], why are you so mean to me?" He said slyly and I lifted him up with all my strength hugging him around the waist "Hyunjae, come on, you need to rest." He sighed and started walking making a pout on his lips.

"Stop pouting, you know you need to rest. You work a lot and when you take a break you want to drink soju and philosophize about life with me." I commented while walking down the dark street.

"But you are my best friend, you have to listen to me." I laughed at his comment "If you paid me I could even quit my job, after all, listening to you is all I do." "That's why I love you." He chuckled and put his head on my shoulder as I opened the door to his house, after entering the password.

"I love you too, so go to sleep." I tossed him on the bed and he smiled happily hugging his soft pillow.

- ▪︎ -

It was almost always like this. Hyunjae coming to my house to vent about life, I laugh while making some cards to post on my Instagram and the company. Being a calligraphy artist was a happy part of my life, being able to decorate bookstores, houses, gifts was something that gave me the strength to live.

Hyunjae was such an essential part of my life, that I only realized when our mutual friend asked why we lived so close to each other. My first thought was to think that it would be easier to go out, have fun and talk. My second thought was that I was completely in love with him, and I didn't want to admit it.

It was complicated, an old love that I knew had no way out, but nothing was going to change because I couldn't find any nice guys. I lived with Hyunjae and I had already accepted my condition. Romance went from something I dreamed of as a teenager, to something I value as an adult, but not as much as my sanity.

It was easier to live with Hyunjae than having to go on blind dates with bizarre guys that our friend Sunwoo arranged (probably from the deep web). And I keep ignoring my feelings, being inspired by its way of life.

That day was more beautiful than usual. The sun was shining brightly, the sky was clear and blue, the traffic seemed calm and the weather was perfect for an outdoor meeting, perhaps a date in the park. The subway was surprisingly empty, although it was very early, and I was completely rested.

It seemed like the perfect working day. I had made many cards at the company, sent some orders by mail, and placed new orders for a major literature event that would take place at the company. Lunch was great and our boss was in a good mood telling stories from when she was in college.

The day had gone well, my colleagues finished their jobs earlier than expected so we were able to go out early and eat fried chicken in a new restaurant near the company. I returned home happy and completely shocked at how perfect my day had been.

I got home and changed my shoes. I took a relaxing bath while listening to the news of the day through my radio hanging from the bathroom sink.

"URGENT NEWS! THERE IS A FIRE IN A BUSINESS BUILDING LOCATED IN THE GANGNAM REGION, MANY ARE THREATENING TO JUMP THROUGH THE WINDOWS. SOURCES CONFIRM THAT THE FIRE STARTED BY THE BAD WIRING THAT HAS NOT BEEN CORRECTLY REPLACED. THE FIREFIGHTERS HAVE JUST ARRIVED AND ARE PREPARING TO RELEASE THE PLACE AND REMOVE SURVIVORS. ”

I immediately turned off the shower, drying myself quickly, putting on any clothes, and going to the living room to turn on the TV and see the news.

All the channels were talking about the fire. It even seemed ironic, as I had a great day, and now a building near my company was on fire, and I had to see desperate people on the TV screen.

My heart stopped and my eyes lit up when I recognized Hyunjae running away with a long sheet and other men helping him from afar. This was apparently what he was supposed to do, try to stay calm and help people in a tragedy that could cost their lives.

“FIREFIGHTERS MOBILIZED QUICKLY AND SURVIVORS ARE GETTING TO THE GROUND SAFELY. THE FIRE HAS BEEN CONTROLLED AND WE HAVE NO NEWS FROM ANY VICTIMS IN SERIOUS STATE UNTIL THE MOMENT-” The woman turned and the cameraman filmed Hyunjae leaving the scene with a woman unconscious in his arms “THIS YOUNG BRAVE MAN REMOVED THE LAST VICTIM FROM THE LOCATION. AMBULANCE HAS ARRIVED AND WILL TREAT EVERYONE IMMEDIATELY. ”

I closed my fists tightly, my mouth dried and my heart sped up. Hyunjae had entered that burning building, risking his life, to save another one.

The fire subsided until it was extinguished. Reporters were still talking about how the police were already investigating everything and how fortunately no lives were lost and the victims had only minor injuries. I sighed with relief and sent a message to Hyunjae, congratulating him, but mostly asking how he was doing.

Me:

[Are you okay? I just saw it all on TV, I'm so worried!]

[I am proud of you, you were amazing.]

[I hope you're all right, send a message when you see this.]

Received.

I sighed and laid down on my bed covering my eyes trying to remember that he was fine.

"Nothing happened."

"Hyunjae is fine. No need to worry."

I was trying to convince myself that he was fine, alive, and doing his job, but my heart couldn't calm down. I decided to take a light tranquilizer and lie down again.

Maybe he would answer me in the morning, I would wait patiently and everything would be fine.

I turned on some drama on TV while I was busy watching cute animals on Youtube to pass the time. After a few hours and having a quick nap, I was surprised by the ringing of my cell phone and saw that it was Hyunjae.

I got up and answered quickly.

“Hyunjae ?! Are you okay? Where are you?" I hurried over and felt him give a tired laugh on the other end of the phone.

“I'm outside your house, please open it for me. It's a little cold here. ” He made a little joke like he always does, maybe, trying to calm my worried mood.

"Okay, I'll be right back." I hung up the phone and ran out to the door.

I opened the door feeling my heart racing, my joints tingling from suddenly getting up and automatically everything calmed down when I saw his face.

He had his bangs glued to his forehead, his face was dirty with some ash. He still had his work uniform on and was holding some bandages probably bought from the pharmacy near our homes.

"I came for you to heal me." He gave a sarcastic smile as I felt relief wash over my entire body.

"Come on, staying in this serene is bad." I pulled him inside, locking the door and putting his usual shoe in the doorway.

"Unfortunately I bought anything I saw at the pharmacy, so I hope you help me, I'm deadly tired." He started talking quietly trying to hide how he was shaken by that night.

"Hyunjae... are you okay?" I asked seeing him sitting on a chair in the kitchen taking off his uniform, leaving only the standard white blouse and pants.

"Yeah." He said dryly biting his lip and looking away. The habit he made when he lied.

"Stop lying to me." I walked towards him crossing my arms “If you were really well, you would have gone home, answered on your cell phone, and slept in peace."

He sighed and looked at me with a look that made my whole body tremble. He looked scared, anxious, but mostly nervous about something.

"What is it?" I touched his cheek and he sighed, closing his eyes and leaning into my hand.

"I almost lost my mind today." He stood up scratching the back of his neck with a choked voice as if he were about to cry.

"What do you mean?" He looked at me so sincerely that I felt my heart soften.

"We were on the traffic patrol when we heard the call." He laughed, but it was sad. "When they said the address, and I realized it was on the same street as your job, I despaired."

My eyes flew open and he sat on the edge of the couch burying his fingers in his dirty, messy hair.

“I thought you could be there and I lost it. When I got there, all I could think about was you.” I approached and realized that in fact, his eyes were watery "I know I should be concerned with other people, but I could only think ‘What if it is her building? What if she is there? What if she is in danger? What if I can't save her?’ And I went into eternal despair.”

I felt my heart racing so fast it could come out of my mouth.

"I-I didn't care if other people were hurt, as long as you were fine..." He looked at me and I felt a huge urge to hold his face "And it scares me. The way I was afraid of losing you and I couldn't think rationally, on the professional side.”

I sat next to him listening to everything he had to say.

"Hyunjae, anyone would feel the same way, you don't have to feel guilty about it." I wiped away his tears and held his cheeks in the palm of my hands "I would have done the same, thinking about you all the time."

He gave a smile sniffing before holding my hands.

"But it's different this time." He said before looking into my eyes with an invisible force that made me nervous "I thought nothing would make sense if I didn't have you by my side."

I took a deep breath trying to follow his argument.

"I don't want to lose you." He whispered as if it were a forbidden confession "You are the most important person in the whole world to me." He touched my cheek with the palm of his hand "You know that, don't you?" He swallowed hard, leaning his forehead against mine.

I took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair.

"I know Hyunjae, you are also the most special person for me." I said seeing how he had relaxed a little more "Now get up, you need to take a shower and put bandages on these cuts."

I stood up first, but I felt his hand close to my fist. He was taller than me, not so much, but his body was so strong that it made me feel small around him.

"What? Come on, you're very tired. ” I took the lead before I felt him pulling me again.

"[NAME]." He said hoarsely as I studied his face curiously.

Hyunjae was too different that night.

“What is it Hyunjae? Your face is dirty, you need to take a shower. ” I touched my hips trying to understand what he wanted.

Hyunjae approached pulling my wrist towards him before giving a kiss there.

"Come with me." He said making me petrified on the spot.

"W-WHAT?!" I asked nervously as I felt my heart pound so loudly that I was afraid he might hear "I-That's not funny, Hyunjae."

He released my fist and pulled me by the hip, staring deep into my eyes.

"I'm not kidding." I felt a shiver down my back when he admitted it wasn't a joke or a friend flirt "I got tired of pretending I don't feel anything for you."

I couldn't say anything, I was too shocked to reply.

“[NAME], you are the most important person to me and I don't want to live any longer having to treat you just like a best friend.” He touched my chin and raised my gaze to his “Please, be honest with me. Am I just a best friend to you? ”

I felt his gaze enter my soul and I knew I had no way to lie anymore, this was the only chance I would have to admit what I feel.

"No." I swallowed and stared at his mouth, which formed a small smile of satisfaction.

It was amazing the effect that Hyunjae had on me. Even if I wanted to run away, I wouldn't be able to lie because it was already obvious from the way I act.

"Great." I felt my stomach churn when I felt his left hand hold me tighter as his right landed on my cheek, making his thumb touch my chin, caressing it. "I hope you don't mind this."

"Mind wha—" I could barely finish the question and I felt his lips on mine.

I pulled away unintentionally from the shock and looked into his eyes that seemed to be staring at me with an indescribable fire. I swallowed and felt my heart racing as he just smirked sideways, as if he knew what I was thinking.

He approached me slowly, touching our noses and I closed my eyes feeling his breath warm my face. I felt my face heat up and my palms sweat when his lips brushed against mine again. I held on to his white blouse with the rest of my strength and waited for Hyunjae to close the distance that bothered me so much.

I felt his hand move and his fingers pulled my chin down, opening my mouth that was closed by shock. I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding and felt him laugh through his nose before wetting my bottom lip with his tongue lightly, kissing me gently.

I lifted my hands to his hair where I pulled slightly, feeling my back against the bathroom door. Hyunjae took a quick breath, trying desperately to open the bathroom door, trying not to break the kiss.

I opened my eyes after Hyunjae got rid of me, feeling my heart stop at the sight of him focused on trying to open the bathroom door. His face was flushed, but his ears seemed to burn at how red they were. His dark eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth was pink and inviting.

"Aish." Hyunjae said finally opening the bathroom making me smile slightly.

I held on to his blouse when I almost tripped over my own rug and Hyunjae grabbed my waist with his arm. He gave me a shy smile before leaning his body against mine, making me even more nervous.

His fingers played with the old buttons on my wool blouse. I held his neck intoxicating myself by his smell invading my senses. I felt a shiver down my spine when his fingers touched my skin gently, as if it were the most expensive porcelain that should be handled with care.

Hyunjae started the shower making me more and more nervous. He pushed me with some force making my back touch the tile on the cold wall of the bathroom. I felt his wet abdomen touching mine and tried to take his shirt off awkwardly making him laugh with amusement.

I looked into his eyes feeling my cheeks flush hard as I held his necklace in my hand. I smirked when I realized it was the gift I had given them for his last birthday. It was a sun necklace that was completed with another necklace, which was mine and was shaped like a moon.

I used to say that he was the sun that lit up my life and that reflected in me. I didn't expect him to wear it every day, because he is so critical of his clothes and his style, so I was surprised when I saw the jewel on his soft, wide collarbone.

"I-I like that necklace." He justified himself by making me smile as I felt my hair gradually get wet from the shower water.

I caressed his cheeks, removing all the dust and ashes from his face. He closed his eyes as I carefully wiped his face by raising my hands to his hair. My stomach churned when I kissed the corner of his jaw and he let out a long breath squeezing my waist.

"I like you." I confessed by kissing his neck, stroking his hair "Really."

"N-Noona." He said slyly in my ear making me smile. He only called me Noona when he was embarrassed "Don't do this to me."

"What?" I asked, acting like I didn't get his thoughts while looking at his beautiful body in front of me. I moved my hands down his chest feeling my whole body softening and looked him in the eyes hoping he understood the message I wanted to convey.

"You know." He responded by pinning me to the wall as he fiddled with the buttons on his pants, leaning his forehead against mine, chuckling through his nose.

I hugged him feeling slightly embarrassed when I felt him take off my bra and toss it on any floor in the bathroom. I closed my eyes tightly as I felt his lips kiss my neck slowly and lovingly.

"[NAME] ..." He sighed and kissed my collarbone "I-I know you like romantic guys, but the last thing I want to do now is to be patient and romantic with you."

I felt my whole body tremble and my thoughts were confused.

"I-Is this okay with you?" He asked suspiciously and I nodded, unable to speak, "Are you sure?"

I just answered him by kissing him again. He returned it immediately, deepening the kiss, holding me in his strong arms.

So, I closed my eyes and just let all those feelings accumulated from so long being satisfied without thinking about anything else.

- ▪︎ -

The truth was that love could come from anywhere, from a friendship for years, from a complete stranger, from a colleague at work or college. There are no limits to define where love should be born.

For Hyunjae and you, it was born out of years of extreme care. An affection that could not be limited by friendship, and by the undeniable attraction you felt for each other. There are people who spend years like this without the courage to declare themselves.

At that moment, a questioning is born within you. What if you hadn't declared yourself that night? What if you had run away? Hyunjae would probably walk away and leave your house feeling his heart broken. You weren't going to have the happy ending you wanted, and you could probably lose a precious friendship.

Ultimately, the butterfly effect has been proven and you should admit that your best 'mistake' was to have overcome your fear and admitted your senses. His best 'mistake' was sleeping with his best friend.

The question that remains is: Was that your destiny, or just the butterfly effect?

Ultimately, none of that mattered, because you both loved each other deeply.

▪︎

MASTERLIST

207 notes · View notes

cherrybracelets · 3 years

Text

I’ll Take You On

bucky barnes x f. reader

18+ / drinking mentions, heavy smut (unprotected s*x, oral s*x (m receiving) )

inspired by: ill take you on by brockhampton

For your whole childhood, as long as you could remember, you wanted to be a veterinarian. You had loved animals, and couldn’t imagine a better way to spend your days than caring for them. But, as you grew up and the harsh realities of adulthood and capitalism dawned upon you, your dream was becoming less likely.

Vet school was way over you and your mom’s budget. It was just the two of you, and she wasn’t exactly bringing in buckets of cash at her teaching job. So, you had to get a bit more realistic.

After graduation college with a business degree, you set forth into the world hoping for a lifetime of amazing opportunities. But, a job didn’t come as easy as you’d hoped, and you were getting desperate. So desperate, in fact, that you called your estranged father begging for a job.

Your father left your mom when you were nine. You didn’t care much, as he wasn’t around a lot anyways. He was some big shot lawyer in Miami, and he was always traveling for work. It was honestly easier on you and your mom once he left. He didn’t make much an effort to connect with you after that, only calling every few months and sending wads of cash on Holidays, hoping to make up for his absence.

So, as you pushed aside your pride to call and ask for his help, it was really the least he could do. And lucky for you, his firm’s office manager had just quit. It didn’t sound like an incredibly difficult job and the pay was beyond what you wanted. Your father was most likely overcompensating with the salary. But he could afford it.

He also promised you a place to live, rent free. He owned multiple properties around the city, most of which he never used. It was kind of the perfect situation. A little suspiciously perfect.

But there were no other options. You needed a job and he desperately needed to feel like he wasn’t the worst father in the world. It was a win-win for both of you.

And obviously, Miami wasn’t the worst place you could be. You didn’t know anyone besides your father, but you didn’t care. The idea of relaxing on a beach alone soothed you way more than a group of screaming drunk girls.

After a week of settling into your apartment and the city, it was finally time to start your new job. You had met up with your father multiple times already, getting prepared for the job and visiting a few of his favorite spots around the city. He was actually really kind, but it was slightly uncomfortable talking to him.

You walked into his office on your first day, shaking in nerves as you prepared to meet your new coworkers. Would they treat you kindly, or did they catch up on the obvious nepotism that was lingering through this entire situation?

But your fears were quickly buried over as his staff welcomed you with open arms, talking highly of you and about how “proud” your father was to have you working here. You rolled your eyes at his obvious attempt to show a warmer side to his staff, but you let it slide. You had a job and place to live because of him, so it was the least you could do.

You spent the morning learning the phone and computer system, battling intrusive questions from everyone in the office and trying to learn how to work the damn coffee machine. But all in all, it wasn’t a bad job.

You never really knew what kind of law your father practiced, and maybe that was something you should’ve asked before, so you were a little less shocked. His clients were mega rich and famous. And your father was just mega rich. It kind of pissed you off, seeing how well he lived and how you and your mom never saw a penny of it. Part of you wanted to scream at him, break all the expensive glasses in his office and storm out. But what was the point? Caring about him was more energy than it was worth.

Your father met with his clients throughout the day, and part of your job was welcoming them to the office, getting them something to drink, and telling your father when they arrive. And today, at 2:12 PM, twelve minutes late for his appointment, he walked in.

“James Barnes. I’m here to see Henry,” he commanded, not bothering to look up from his cell phone and pay you an ounce of attention.

“Of course. Can I get you anything to drink?” You asked kindly, trying to keep your voice from quivering. He stood towering over you, his large frame blocking the light above, casting a shadow over your desk. He was one of the most beautiful and intimidating people you’d ever seen. You felt like you were going to choke if he looked directly at you.

But he didn’t. He walked cooly over to the sofa in the waiting area and sat down, mumbling “Scotch…”.

You stood up and walked away quickly, desperately trying to catch your breath. You slipped quietly into your father's office, smiling as you closed the door behind you.

“James Barnes is here. And he mentioned something about scotch, which I’m not sure if I’m authorized to give…”

Your father chuckled and stood up, walking over to a small bar cart in his office and pouring two drinks.

“Everyone calls him Bucky. He’s a good friend. Come on, i’ll introduce you.”

You followed behind your father in a daze, not ready to face him, not ready for his eyes to meet yours. Your skin felt hot and the room was spinning as your head, his loud voice greeting your father in excitement.

“Bucky! It’s been too long!” Your father yelled, handing him a drink and smiling sheepishly.

“Yeah, I had to be in New York a bit longer than I thought,” he trailed off, taking a sip of his drink. You were hiding behind your father, hoping he would forget about you and you could sneak away without a word. But of course you wouldn’t get away that easily.

“Bucky, I have to introduce you to my daughter. Today is her first day working here! (Y/N), come introduce yourself,” he instructed, turning towards you and ushering you in closer to Bucky.

“(Y/N)...” he whispered, the sound of your name in his mouth making your whole body light up. You had never heard it sound so beautiful before. He reached his hand out towards you, and you grabbed it lightly. His hands were soft and cold, shocking your skin as he touched you. As you shook hands, he leaned towards you, the smell of mint and tobacco pouring from his skin.

“Why don’t we head to your office, Henry,” he frowned, dropping your hand and turning towards your father. You brought your hand back to your side, confused and dizzy as you found your seat.

“Can… can I get you anything, Henry?” You stuttered, realizing awkwardly that this was the first time you’d addressed him, and you didn’t say dad. There was an uncomfortable silence between the two of you, and you cleared your throat awkwardly.

“Sorry, thought that would be more professional. Totally awkward, right?” You laughed, trying to ease the tension. You didn’t think your father would care if you called him Henry, but maybe he wanted you to play into the sweet daughter character at work.

“No, sweetheart, this is actually a private meeting. I don’t want any interruptions, unless someone’s dead. Okay?” He said in a serious tone, pushing aside any awkwardness. He hadn’t said this with any other clients he’s seen today, so it gave you an uncomfortable feeling in your stomach.

You turned towards Bucky, looking for some sign of a joke with him. But his face was carved of stone, his eyes locked on your father as if he expected Henry’s devout secrecy for any conversation they had.

The two walked quietly into his office and shut the door, leaving the image of him to only exist in your mind. You were curious who exactly this beautiful mystery was, so you did what you always did. Googled him.

You searched for a while, under both of the names he went by. But nothing. You couldn’t find him anywhere. Nothing on Facebook, Linkedin was empty, Twitter and Instagram were farfetched. It was like he didn’t exist. You even unblocked your father on facebook to stalk his friends and see if he existed there, but nothing. He was a ghost.

You got frustrated after a while, sitting back angrily in your chair, realizing you had three voicemails. Yikes, you were not very good at this job.

You finished all your work quickly, hoping it would distract you from him.

They spent the next two hours locked away in your fathers office, leaving you to wilt away in boredom. It only took about 30 minutes to catch up on calls and emails, and then all you could do was scroll aimlessly on your phone hoping someone would bother you.

But everyone seemed very quiet here. Beyond the initial excitement of meeting you in the morning, everyone stayed at their desks all day, focused intently on their own work. It was one of the quietest offices you’d ever been in. Maybe they were just trying to show off on your first day, or trying not to bother you… but it was odd.

At 4:15, your father loudly exited his office, Bucky following behind. He was smiling, something you hadn’t seen before. It was almost god-like, his perfect smile, radiating warmth and happiness. You wanted to be close to him again, missing the sweet smell of his lips…

“(Y/N), I have a request…” your father interrupted your daydreaming, making you jump as you stood up to help him.

“What’s up?” You asked casually, refusing to take your eyes off Bucky.

“Bucky and I are grabbing dinner tonight, and we’d love for you to join us,” he said quickly, Bucky finally turning towards you and meeting your glance.

“You… want me to come?” You asked quietly, Bucky still staring at you. He smirked slightly as you spoke, but refused to break your gaze.

“Well, Bucky would really love to get to know my daughter. You know how… proud I am of you. The light of my life!” He said, smiling intensely at you. You finally looked away from Bucky and towards your father as he spoke.

It was disgusting, the way your father was obviously using a fake relationship with you to get in good with his clients and employees. But you would’ve done anything to see Bucky again. So you agreed reluctantly, wondering why a man like Bucky would care about his lawyer's daughter…

“We’re going to a nice place so… dress up,” your father instructed, eyeing your clothes. You had noticed you were the least dressed up at the office.

“Um… I don’t really have a nice dress…” you whispered quietly, wondering how “nice” you needed to dress…

Your father pulled out his wallet, handing you a thick black AmEx card.

“I’ll have my driver take you downtown to some shops. Get whatever you want,” he instructed, pushing the card in your hand.

You didn’t refuse, why would you? Free shopping spree and dinner with some hot mystery man sounded like your perfect day.

You spent the next few hours in and out of shops, spending more money than your father most likely anticipated. But you needed a new wardrobe anyways, most of your old clothes were too warm to wear here.

You picked out a gorgeous light blue silk dress and some strappy white heels to match. You were maybe a little ‘under’ dressed for dinner with your father, but all you could focus on was Bucky. You felt high whenever he crossed your mind, your body unable to focus on anything except the feel of his cool skin touching yours.

By the time you were done shopping, it was almost time to meet them at dinner. The driver promised to bring the rest of your bags home and drop you right off at the restaurant. It was all the way across town, and you’d most likely still be late even if you left now. So you hopped in the car quickly, your new outfit looking perfect.

The drive to the restaurant took just as long as the driver said it would- maybe even longer. You were getting impatient as the time went by, wondering if he was thinking about you the way you were thinking of him.

It was unlikely. You still weren’t sure who exactly he was, but you knew he didn’t spend his time with ordinary girls.

But why did he want you to come to dinner? It was odd of him to take such an interest in you. None of your fathers other clients seemed to look twice in your direction. But then again, Bucky was the only one that required privacy.

As you got lost in your thoughts, your mind tumbling through expectations and excitement, your driver pulled swiftly up to the front entrance of Paterro’s.

Upon walking through the doors, you were taken aback by the overwhelming fanciness of this restaurant. Your father definitely undersold how nice it was. You felt slightly underdressed, but no one seemed to look twice at you. You were used to not turning heads, being able to walk through a crowd without notice.

That changed when you got to your table. Your father wasn’t there, most likely in the bathroom or at the bar. It was just him, looking just as beautiful as you pictured he would.

He wore a navy blue suit that hugged his skin tightly and left very little of his body up for imagination. As you walked towards him, his head lifted from the table and his eyes lingered towards your body. He gave you a soft smile, but he was obviously distracted by how much of you he was seeing.

“Your… Henry ran to grab a few cigars for later…” he mumbled, standing up awkwardly and pulling out a chair for you.

“Thank you…” you whispered, sitting shakily down in the chair as he pushed you in towards the table.

You were in between Bucky and your father’s seat, but much closer to Bucky. Your father came back less than 30 seconds later, which was ideal, since you couldn’t think of a single word to say to Bucky.

Your father greeted you kindly, a wide smile that read as ‘You better be good tonight.’ It clearly wasn’t normal for him to have guests attend his business dinners. He seemed just as put off as you did, but the two of you kept your thoughts to yourselves and made small talk.

“This is one of my favorite restaurants, (Y/N),” your father smiled, handing you a menu to you.

“I’m excited to be here. Thank you for having me,” you responded kindly.

Bucky and your father started talking about business, leaving you to your own thoughts as you scoured the menu. The prices were insane, but obviously you weren’t footing the bill. You had half a mind to order the most expensive thing on the menu, for the hell of it, but you settled on a nice glass of red wine and pasta.

You weren’t included in much of the conversation, wondering why exactly you were invited in the first place. It seemed that the two of them barely even knew you were there. You sipped at your wine angrily, wondering how you could get Bucky’s attention.

It was then when you decided to make one of the riskiest decisions of your entire life. But, high risk, high reward, right?

Bucky cracked a joke with your father, and you laughed loudly and girlishly, forcing him to draw his eyes towards you. You then gently placed your hand on his knee, dragging your fingertips on his thigh lightly as you smiled at him. For a second, you forgot your father was even there, lost in the delight of finally having your hands on Bucky.

But you quickly drew your hand back, afraid of how far you’d go if you didn’t stop. Luckily your father didn’t seem to notice, or care. But Bucky did.

In fact, he was glaring at you. His fists were clenched on the table, his breath shaky and his stared. His face started to relax and he looked away, a slight smirk on his face as he grabbed his drink and gulped it.

“I have to run and make a quick phone call,” Bucky said abruptly, not waiting for a response before leaving the table.

You turned awkwardly to your father, not sure what to say to him at this moment. Thankful for you, he clearly felt the same, and buried himself in his phone. That was the nice thing about your father, he never forced you to talk.

Bucky was back quicker than you’d expected, looking relieved as he sat down.

“Sorry about that,” he smiled, clearing his throat. “Where were we?”

The three of you started chatting again, a feat that only lasted about five minutes, before another interruption. Your father’s phone started ringing loudly, much to your embarrassment.

“One sec,” he whispered, jumping out of his chair and answering in a rush.

Your heart dropped as you realized you were alone with him for the first time. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him after you nearly groped him under the table. You felt a lump in your throat as you stared intently at your fathers empty chair.

“Do you wanna talk about what the hell you’re doing?” Bucky growled at you, making you finally turn your head and face him head on.

“I don’t know what you mean…” you whispered innocently.

“Oh, shut the hell up. I’m not gonna fall for your sweet girl act. Your father might, but I see right through it…” He snickered, taking a large sip from his third drink of the evening.

“I’m sorry if I’ve done something to upset you, James.” You could see him cringe at the sound of that name. You couldn’t help but to get under his skin. Something about him so angry made it hotter.

“Listen, if you wanna fuck me, just say it. I’m not here for all these little games.”

“You truly think every girl in the entire universe wants to have sex with you? Seems like somebody has a little ego problem,” you retorted, rolling your eyes and looking away.

“Oh, baby,” he laughed, touching your cheek lightly with his thumb. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t get under this table and suck my cock if you could?”

The thought of your mouth around him made you quiver, which was very evident to Bucky. He laughed coyly, before tightly gripping your chin. He brushed his thumb lightly over your lips, your body aching at his touch.

He dropped his hand quickly as your father approached the table, looking distraught.

“I’m so sorry guys... My client just called, major emergency. I’m gonna have to run… Bucky, can you make sure (Y/N) get’s home safe? I’m gonna have to take my car…”

Bucky chuckled quietly and nodded at your father, enjoying the obvious win.

“I’ll take good care of her, man.”

Your father thanked Bucky, throwing his credit card to you for dinner and running off in a hurry. You felt sick to your stomach, all the red wine dancing around in your body. You felt Bucky’s hand on your thigh, rubbing circles on your skin.

“You ready to go?” He winked, tilting his head for an answer. You could only nod, unable to think of any words to say.

Bucky tossed three one-hundred dollar bills down on the table, taking them from a large wad of cash hidden in his jacket. You felt dizzy at the sight of all the money, wondering where it could possibly be coming from.

The valet pulled Bucky’s car around, which was obviously something beautiful and fancy and nauseatingly expensive. He opened the passenger door for you, helping you up into the seat. He leaned towards you after you were sitting, pulling your face to his. He kissed you intensely, not giving you a second to think, or breathe. You melted into him, allowing his body to do whatever he wanted.

But he quickly broke away, closing the door and getting in the driver seat. He didn’t speak to you the rest of the ride, just casually glancing in your direction every few minutes. You wondered if you should tell him where you lived, or if he already knew. But you quickly realized you weren’t going home.

You pulled up to a large white house on the beach. The gates opened promptly as you arrived. They closed quickly behind you, making you finally realize the intensity of the situation. You were here now, locked inside, with a complete stranger. A very, very hot stranger.

Bucky opened the door for you, clearly picking up your awe at the size of the house.

“I’m just renting it. I don’t usually stay in one place too long…” he explained, a hint of sadness in his voice.

“What exactly do you do?” You asked, instantly regretting it as you noticed the distaste in his voice.

“You don’t need to know that, yet,” he snapped, emphasizing the word ‘yet’. What the hell did that mean?

He ushered you through the front door, offering you a glass of wine as you entered. You accepted happily, staring at his wide wine collection that was much nicer than the box sitting in your fridge.

You sat down on his couch, sinking into the soft cushions, realizing just then how tipsy you were. As he walked back towards you with your drinks, you felt a wave of excitement and spontaneity wash over you. Fuck wine, man. The worst and horniest decisions you ever made were because of wine.

Bucky set your drinks done and you didn’t waste any time. You jumped up towards him, pushing your lips onto his and dragging your hands down his body. He didn’t fight you, unbuckling his pants quickly. He began kissing your neck, pulling down the straps of your dress. You hadn’t worn a bra, giving his lips easy access to your breasts. He sucked your nipples lightly, grazing his teeth.

You pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a perfectly sculpted body that at this point, you had expected. You brought your hand down to his dick, already hard and poking out through his boxers. You pushed him off of you as you got down to your knees, removing his boxers and taking his length into your mouth.

You flicked your tongue across his tip, making him shake under you. He grabbed the back of your head and pushed himself deeper into you, hitting the back of your throat. He moved in and out of your mouth, his hand holding your hair out of the way.

Finally he pulled out of your mouth, beckoning you to stand up. You did as you were told, getting off your knees and following him to the catch. He sat down and dragged you onto his lap, feeling his cock under you. He kissed you for a while, but you never got bored. You could’ve kissed him forever.

But you felt him twitching beneath you, begging to be inside. You positioned him to your opening and slid down gently, adjusting to his size. He moaned slightly, throwing his head back as he went in.

“Don’t move for a second…” he commanded, sitting up and taking your face. He was inside of you, not moving, just holding you.

“You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen,” he whispered, the scotch spilling from his breath. He didn’t give you time to respond before he grabbed your hips and began to rock you on him.

You let him move you for a few minutes before you started moving yourself. You felt the overwhelming rush of pleasure take over as you got close to cumming, speeding up your motions.

“Shit…” you squealed, riding out your high as he kissed your neck.

“Keep going… I wanna cum inside you…” He whispered into your ear, his lips tickling your jaw.

You kept grinding your hips, moving faster as he got closer. He gripped onto your hips, digging his nails into your skin as you felt him twitch. You felt him fill you up with warmth, claiming you as his in that moment. The ultimate trophy of male dominance.

You felt sick to your stomach after you got off, feeling him drip down your thighs as you rolled to the other side of the couch. The fun of the wine had worn off into an annoying headache, and you were dreadfully thirsty.

For some reason, you wondered if you had dreamed the whole thing, before you looked over and saw a naked Bucky, staring blissfully at you.

“Can I get you anything?” He asked, kindly.

“Water.”

He smiled graciously, standing up and putting his boxers on. He walked down a hallway, presumably to the kitchen, and your fight or flight kicked in. You quickly grabbed your shoes and bag, bolting out the front door, unable to face him.

You were greeted by the fresh air, happy to be back in the realm of normalcy. And then you remembered. The gate.

“Fuck…” you exclaimed, dropping your shoes on the pavement.

“I’ll take you home.” You heard, seeing an uncomfortable Bucky standing in the doorway.

You got back in his car, staying uncomfortably silent as he started the engine and opened the gate.

“Do you regret it?” He asked. His voice snapped through the quiet like a whip. It made you jump.

“No. I don’t.” You answered. It was the truth.

“Good. We’ll talk soon, then.”

He dropped you off without another word, and you realized you never actually gave him your address.

Who the hell was James Barnes?

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #tfatws #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #james buchanan barnes

186 notes · View notes

yslkook · 4 years

Text

sonder

pairing: taehyung x reader (exes au) summary: sonder: the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own. or

“What am I about to say?”

“That nothing has worked out for you since we dated, because even though the women you date are all wonderful, all you see in them is me,” You exhale, “I might have to kick you out if you say something as predictable as that.”

word count: 3459 warnings: alcohol, smut (penetrative sex, oral f receiving, tae is possessive for like half a second, some tears) a/n: inspired by these pictures of taehyung. also if this feels rushed, that was on purpose- i wanted to make them kinda messy

Your second whiskey of the evening burns something bitter in the back of your throat, but you welcome it. It’s a welcome respite from the shitty week you’ve had, but that’s besides the point.

One of your favorite things to do to unwind after a tough week is to people watch, and one of your favorite places to do so was at the bars near your apartment. You liked to create vivid stories for these people that walked through the bar- who they were, what their backstories were. It was an amusing game to you, and even if both Yoongi and Hobi told you that you needed a better hobby, you’d only scoff at them.

Speaking of, Yoongi was supposed to be joining you soon. But apparently he’s running late. About fifteen minutes late, according to his cryptic text from earlier:

yoongi: running late, im bringing a friend

You think nothing of it, not really. And you just sip on your whiskey, watching a pair of new faces walk through the door from your stealthy booth in the corner of the bar.

You should’ve known that when Yoongi had said he was bringing a friend, it meant Taehyung. You briefly remember Yoongi telling you that Taehyung had moved back to the city a few weeks ago.

Taehyung, who had moved away halfway across the world years ago as a novice in the art history world. Taehyung, who had broken your delicate heart and taken pieces of it with him more than five years ago.

But even so, you harbor no ill feelings towards the man. He did what he had to do, and you did as well. It’s been so long now, that he should almost be a stranger to you.

Yoongi watches the way your lips part in surprise at the sight of Taehyung- he knows there are still lingering feelings, maybe a lack of closure. Maybe something else that you don’t feel like discussing or diving into. You send him a hearty death glare his way but Yoongi ignores it.

You and Taehyung are nothing if not stubborn. Taehyung hasn’t stopped asking about you since he moved back to the city.

After all, you’ve hardly dated since Taehyung broke up with you. You had sincerely, genuinely believed that he was your one and only, your forever. It just hadn’t felt right, not with anyone else. So you just stopped, not wanting to force love with people if your heart really wasn’t in it.

And now, Taehyung is standing in front of you, dressed in expensive black from head to toe, looking as if he had just walked off of the runway before meeting up with Yoongi. His hair is longer than you ever remembered it being, two small silver hoops in his ears.

Handsome. He looks healthy and warm. He looks good.

You clear your throat and wave at both of them, opening your arms for a hug. Yoongi’s hug is brief, you see the man at least once or twice a week, but you pinch his waist for ambushing you like this. You gasp softly when Taehyung wraps his arms around you. You’d apparently forgotten how his body just fits into yours. Even after all this time.

It truly hasn’t been that long, but it feels like it.

“Hi,” Taehyung breathes into your hair. You should pull away, you really should. You can’t even meet Yoongi’s eyes, too bewitched by the hold that Taehyung somehow still has on you.

You feel as though your heart is running a mile a minute, and yet it feels like you’re greeting an old friend after a long time.

“Taehyung,” You say softly, his name sounding like a ghost of a memory, “It’s been a long time.”

You sit in your booth and Taehyung sits next to Yoongi. It feels like three old friends catching up after a while, not like if two exes are sitting with their mutual best friend trying not to catch glimpses of the other.

You take a sip of your drink with shaky hands. It’s going to be a long night.

At some point during the evening, Yoongi claims that Hoseok has an emergency and that he has to go. You think he planned this (both him and Hobi), because there’s a meddling glint in his eye that you haven’t seen recently.

You panic, scrambling to somehow get Yoongi to stay, so that you’re not alone with Taehyung. You’re afraid of what you might do or say. Or for what you might not do or say.

And yet, talking to him comes like second nature. Maybe it’s because you have years of history between the both of you, even if you haven’t spoken in the last five.

It hurt so much. When he broke up with you, you mourned the loss of your best friend. He had said you could try to be friends, but you couldn’t handle it at the time. And then more time went by… and suddenly, he was barely a thought in your passing mind. Yet, he still lingered, in your mannerisms. Maybe some part of you was still waiting on him. Which wasn’t healthy… But it wasn’t hurting anyone. And besides, you were okay. But you had never really believed in soulmates until Taehyung. Perhaps it was the lack of closure.

At least that’s what you convinced yourself, because seeing Taehyung like this, laughing and talking to you as if no time has past throws you for a loop.

Mainly because… it’s so easy to fall into conversation with him. It’s so easy to laugh with him and make him laugh. You enjoy learning about everything he’s been up to over the last few years, all of his adventures, the sights he’s seen. How enthusiastic he is, how he finds beauty in everything.

You both had always been such good friends. Maybe that’s what you miss more than anything. Somehow, hours go by and you both are left to be the only ones in the bar-

“Hey what brought you here to begin with?” Taehyung asks, holding the door open for you, “Had a bad day? You still like people watching?”

“Yeah,” You say wistfully, “Something like that.”

He squeezes your shoulder in reassurance. You catch his eyes in the streetlights and feel your heart swell.

Even if it’s been more than five years since you saw Taehyung last, since you felt his fingers thread in between yours… it still feels so familiar. It’s funny, isn’t it? How so much time can go by, how you can be strangers on paper but feel like you’ve known his soul for this entire time.

His smile glows in the moonlight. A light breeze cradles him, carding through his dark strands of hair gently. You can vividly recall a time when it was you- your fingers running through his hair through soft laughs and unkept promises.

You wonder if your heart is still his, after all this time. It’s not as if you’ve had many people to compare your all-consuming five year relationship to in the last few years. Every person you met, you found yourself comparing to your ex-boyfriend. It wasn’t healthy.

And you had known that he had moved on from your own mutual friends. You don’t even know if he’s single right now, but you knew he was in a relationship a year ago… Or maybe two? Maybe you should care a little more, but you’ll blame it on the whiskey for causing you to squeeze his hand a little harder and lean into him.

Taehyung looks exactly the same, he feels exactly the same as he did when you were twenty-two and stupid enough to believe that you would make it. He’s always felt like he fit the messy edges of your soul perfectly, and even now, you feel that familiar warmth of his soul rubbing up against yours.

Even as he’s chatting away, eyes crinkling in genuine happiness, you’re hardly listening. You’re only thinking about how nice he feels next to you.

Serendipity. It must be serendipity, for him to show up in your life again when you had been teetering on the edge of misery and self-deprecation. Your head is jumbled, brain filled with nothing but sweet memories of him and your heart is aching for something you might never have again.

But all you have is now. So when Taehyung twirls you easily and sways with you under the dimmed light of a street lamp, pulling a surprised laugh out of you, you make your decision.

“Where’s your new big girl apartment?” Taehyung asks, a hint of longing in his tone.

“It’s not new,” You scoff, “But I live, like, five blocks away.”

Taehyung takes your hand in his again, asking you questions about your apartment. How you found it, do you like it, do you have roommates. To which you shrug and tell him that you like being alone. Something shifts in his eyes, something sad. He recalls your thirst for life when you both had been together- always ready to try something new, always wanting to be around people, always dreaming with your head in the sky.

He wonders what changed. You’re so quiet, eyes a little dark, shoulders tense. Maybe that’s what growing up is. Maybe that’s what tumbling out of your early twenties and into your late twenties is.

Or maybe you’ve just changed in general. It’s been a long time, after all. Since you both mutually broke up, since he moved halfway across the globe.

But still, he catches sparks, flutters of embers in your gaze. He catches the tender, playful excitement that you’ve always held near and dear to your heart- it’s what made you and him such a good team years ago.

Talking to him is so easy, not that you thought it would be difficult to begin with. It’s always been easy with him, easy to laugh with him, easy to love him.

The front door of your apartment building comes into view. Your hand is still in his. Taehyung hesitates on letting you go, but he does.

“It was nice to see you,” Taehyung murmurs, allowing himself the brush of the back of his hand on your cheekbone, “I mean it.”

“Yeah. I’m glad I ran into you, too. Even if I was stuffing my face with whiskeys,” You grin and lean into his touch, “Even if Yoongi probably played both of us.”

“Don’t know when you became such a whiskey girl.”

“It’s been years, Taehyung. I’m sure I’ve got a few more surprises for you,” You say, smile falling into something more intense, “Wanna come find out what they are?”

“Thought you’d never ask, sweetheart.”

Taehyung’s lips are on yours the minute you close the door to your apartment. His hands are molded to your hips over your clothes and you instantly moan into his mouth loudly, slipping your tongue past his lips eagerly. Drinking him up as if he’s been yours to drink up this entire time.

You fumble with the buttons of his peacoat, nearly ready to yank the buttons off. Patience has never been your strong suit, but you just want to feel him.

But the minute you pull away for air, you re-center yourself. No matter how enticing his bitten lips are…

“Are you single?” You ask bluntly.

“Why?” Taehyung says with an arch of his stupidly perfect eyebrow, “You falling in love with me again?”

“Shut up, you wish. I thought you had a girlfriend,” You say pointedly, toeing out of your heels and hanging your jackets up in the coat closet.

“You keeping tabs on me? I knew it,” Taehyung says, looking a little too smug about it.

“Shut the fuck up,” You swat his chest, “Yoongi may have mentioned it to me once or twice.”

More like he told you multiple times when you were drunk, wasted and crying over Taehyung because you never truly got over him. In some corner of the deepest part of your heart, you never got over him.

“I’m not dating anyone. Or talking, seeing anyone,” Taehyung shrugs, “That didn’t work out. Nothing’s really worked out, not since…”

“Don’t say it,” You mutter, “Don’t say what I think you’re about to say.”

You need another drink. So you pour yourself another hefty glass of whiskey and pour one out for him, too.

“What am I about to say?”

“And if it’s true?”

“Then I’m definitely kicking you out. Might need another five years to see you again,” You whisper. He moves closer to you, tentatively holding your hips in his. You don’t push him away, only looking up at him with wide eyes.

“I missed you so fucking much,” Taehyung breathes into your hair, wrapping you in a hug, “You have no idea. And you? Are you single?”

“No, you missed the idea of me. Of us,” You mumble, but you’re unable to pull out of his hold, “We were young, we had dreams… And yeah, I’m single.”

“We could’ve made it work-”

“Taehyung, stop it,” You mutter, throat going dry with barely concealed yearning for him, “We both made the choices we made for a reason. You’re here and I’m here for a reason. Don’t wanna talk about what if’s with you anymore. Just kiss me, Taehyung-”

Taehyung doesn’t need to be told twice, cupping your face in his big hands and pressing his soft lips to yours instantly. Time feels like nothing between you both, but it feels like he’s trying to learn this new version of you through your kiss.

You’re undecided on whether this is a one time thing, but all you know is that you want him. And you want him now. His hands are warm over your thighs as he lifts you up in his arms, your chest plastered to his. His hair has gotten longer, dark strands effortlessly falling into his forehead.

He’s so handsome and you swoon when his lips press against your neck. Taehyung still remembers what you like, what your favorite spots are.

It’s almost as if no time has passed. You both ignore it, ignore the nostalgia creeping into the crevices of your kisses.

“Mmm, my bedroom’s that way,” You mumble hoarsely, pulling away with hooded eyes.

“You’ll have to give me a proper tour later,” Taehyung says, his voice somehow even deeper.

“Yeah, you’d be so lucky,” You snort and Taehyung shuts you up with another searing kiss. He doesn’t miss the meticulous way you’ve decorated your cozy home, pops of color and decorations that are so very you in every corner. He sees a small photo collage in the corner of your bedroom.

Once upon a time, a photo of you and him would’ve been the crown jewel.

“Tae,” You mumble, “Stop, focus on me. I want you-”

So he does.

Your legs close around Taehyung’s head, his tongue slipping into your glossy folds for the third time that evening. He can’t get enough of your soft noises, even when you’re telling him it’s too much, you widen your legs for him to slot in between them easily. Taehyung hikes your legs over his shoulder, nearly rutting into the bed at the sight of your quivering bottom lip and the way your tits bounce.

He palms you lewdly, squeezing and pinching. “You’re so wet,” Taehyung moans into your pussy, “Fuck, baby-”

“Taehyung,” You breathe, voice sounding broken even to your own ears, “I want you, I want your cock…”

“You sure you want this?” Taehyung asks, his voice strained.

“Yeah,” You nod eagerly, “Do you?”

With a nod, “Do you have condoms?” He rasps, nose nudging your clit.

“Y-yeah,” You moan, “The nightstand, first drawer. Brand new box, never before used-”

“Really?” Taehyung raises an eyebrow, “When was the last time, baby?”

“The last time what,” You whine, tugging on his forearm.

“Last time you had sex,” Taehyung says, pulling the box out from your nightstand.

“Uhhh… when you broke up with me?” You shrug sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Shit,” He groans, “Seriously?”

You don’t miss how he palms himself over his pants at your words. He’s always had a hint of possessiveness in him, and you already know that he’s trying to process that the last person, the only person to have ever seen you like this was him.

“Yeah, I didn’t have luck the way you did, I guess,” You say lightly, “Not that I was trying very hard, though.”

“Damn, baby, nobody’s been loving you right, huh?” Taehyung says, pulling out a condom from the box with shaky hands.

“Yeah. Not even you,” You say. Maybe that was mean, but his eyes flash at you in warning.

“Come here,” He says, a soft demand, “Did you miss me?”

You shrug playfully and unbutton his pants for him. He swats your roaming hands away and they land on his belly, your nails scratching lazily. Taehyung has always looked like a vision, but seeing him like this, hovering above you with golden, tanned skin and his jaw locked, looking every bit like the man of your dreams...

He commands, demands respect. Your pussy throbs just from the sight of him shucking off his pants and his boxers in one go, tugging his hard and heavy cock roughly with one hand.

You swear you drool. Your head is empty, only thoughts of him, his big hands, broad shoulders-

“Did you miss me, baby,” Taehyung asks again, voice a little rougher, a little harsher.

“Does it matter,” You challenge him, “You only want my pussy-”

“And you only want my cock-”

“So give it to me then. Since you know me so well,” You sneer. You gasp in surprise when he swats your thigh and then moan his name when he pushes the head of his cock into you without much warning.

“You talk so fucking much,” Taehyung breathes, cupping your cheeks with one hand.

“Shit,” You gasp, “You’re so fucking big-”

You squeeze your eyes shut and Taehyung stills inside of you, giving you time to adjust to him. He peppers sweet kisses over your forehead, a contrast to his previous words. You cannot believe that somehow, Taehyung is back in your bed, his cock buried deep within you.

The thought makes your eyes water. You’re a little overwhelmed.

“What’s wrong,” Taehyung asks when he sees your wet eyes, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Nothing, you’re just so big,” You mumble, avoiding his eyes. Taehyung looks at you suspiciously but says nothing.

He’s the only one who’s ever had you like this. The thought makes something in his belly flare, the urge to leave bruises on your welcoming hips and pound into your wet pussy growing and growing with each second.

But he doesn’t move, not until you give him the okay. Taehyung’s fingers are tight around your hips, loose around your neck, his lips plastered to any inch of skin he can reach. With the first rock of his hips into you, you wrap your legs around his waist and shudder in his arms.

He nuzzles your neck, chest plastered against yours. Your nails are tightly pressed into his biceps, surely leaving marks for tomorrow morning. Your soft cries of his name sound like sweet rapture, something he’s been searching for for years. Or something that he had and something he let go of.

And then he wonders how he ever spent the last few years not buried in your pussy, when you feel something like home to him.

“You know, I moved back here a few weeks ago,” Taehyung says, turning on his side to face you, hands gentle over your chest.

“Oh, I know. Yoongi and Hobi wouldn’t shut up about it. They really missed you,” You reply, not meeting his eyes.

“And you? Did you?” Taehyung asks again. You hesitate.

“Does it matter, Taehyung?” You mumble, brushing his hair away from his eyes, “Does it change anything?”

“It could. If you wanted it to,” He murmurs, pulling you into his chest. His fingers are light over your spine, but you scoff.

“Don’t say shit like that,” You sigh, pressing your hand to his face.

He only laughs with his big, bright smile and pulls you in closer, kissing your forehead. “I can leave you know. If you want me to. If this is... weird.”

“I think we’re way past weird, Taehyung. If I wanted you to leave, I would’ve kicked you out by now,” You say easily and ignore the way his smile sends unfamiliar butterflies through your belly, “Go to sleep. I’ll decide if I wanna kick you out in the morning.”

#taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung fic

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