#i have tomorrow probably some free time so if you have a song for a short video from a meh vidder my ask is open

[zhivchik]

[macfrog]

sweet child o' mine | pt. iv

to @mrsmando - without whom this insane story would never have happened in the first place. i love you i love you i love you thank you all so much for coming on this journey with me - it has been a blast. i hope you like where we turn out! love you guys always n forever x

pairing: neighbor!joel x fem!reader

summary: you're a mom. it's time to get your shit together.

warnings: bon jovi mention straight out the gate, labor/delivery [i have never given birth. those of you who have are nothing short of remarkable. please forgive if some of this is a little inaccurate or vague], use of pain medication during birth, description of pain and post-birth recovery, super emotional reader, unprotected piv, oral, alcohol consumption. DISCLAIMER: this series covers some issues which i know may be sensitive and possibly triggering to some. warnings will always be as thorough as possible, but if there’s ever anything you feel i’ve missed, please let me know. feel free to drop by my inbox anytime.

word count: 12k

pt. i / series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🩵

It’s September twenty-third.

Well, by now, it’s probably the twenty-fourth. You’ve been a little distracted, rolling between the sheets with your next-door neighbor for the last couple hours.

The wedding’s still going strong downstairs. The same Bon Jovi song has played three times over. Tommy has called Joel to ask where he is so much that Joel’s phone is now switched off and shoved to the bottom of his bag.

You’re slouched on the toilet in a sliver of moonlight. A fistful of tissue, panties loose around your ankles. Rolling your forehead side to side along the cool tile, heartbeat hammering between your temples.

Joel Miller – Joel fucking Miller – is in your bed. Naked, sweating, cock probably still half-hard.

This morning, the very idea of the man was an eyeroll. Stood in your mirror, promising yourself that this time tomorrow, it’ll all be over with.

This time in a month, it’ll be a foggy memory.

This time in a year, it –

His voice is muffled through the bathroom door. “Did you fall in, or somethin’?”

You snort. The milky moon blurs across your vision when you pull yourself upright. You swipe between your legs and stand, flushing the toilet.

“I needed a fucking breather,” you tease, tiptoeing back across the room.

Joel’s stretched out; a worked arm draped along the headboard. Sun-kissed to the middle of his bicep, paler across his shoulder. One leg bare on the mattress, the other under the sheets. They only just cover his modesty – dark hair trailing beneath light silk just in time.

He’s so big. It’s like you never really noticed until now. He takes up half the bed, laying like this. And sure, you’re halfway to fucked, but – has he always been so handsome?

You flop down beside him with a sigh, curling up in the burrow of sheets at his side. Your eyes trail up his body – the sheen of sweat up his side, the dark, damp hair under his arm. All the parts of him you’ve never seen before, will never see again.

You gulp. Quit fucking staring.

He doesn’t notice, anyway. He’s rubbing circles into his temples, grumbling. “How many goddamn times are they gonna play It’s My Life?”

“…for Tommy and Gina…” you nudge him, “…who never backed down…”

Joel chuckles, pulling his hand down his beard. “Twenty bucks says he’s changing that to Maria.”

“Oh, for sure. I ain’t going back down to listen to it, though.”

He hums in agreement, reaching over for his beer. His Adam’s apple bobs as he drinks.

“You owe me, by the way. This is my room, remember? My fucking minibar.”

He pauses, the bottle against his bottom lip. His eyes linger south of your chin before he answers, “I’m paying for the damn room.”

“Then I want a drink from yours. Make it even.”

He clicks his teeth and drinks again. “It’s one beer. Call it an early birthday gift.”

You frown. “When the hell’s your birthday?”

“Tuesday.”

“Bullshit.”

“Serious. The twenty-sixth.”

You push yourself up onto your elbows; chest bare and on display. And it’s a strange feeling, how little you care. Twelve hours ago, you didn’t know how close to sit next to him at the ceremony. How many times you could accidentally bump knees or brush elbows and it not be weird.

But in the last two hours, he’s made you come more times than you can count. More times than anyone you’ve ever been with before – that’s for sure. And you’ve repaid the favor: the proof is still dribbling out of you. Still dripping between your legs, all pearlescent and warm. You’re soaked, swollen, still sore from the size of him.

It’s a fucking strange feeling, that you don’t mind at all.

“How old are you turning?” you ask.

Joel swallows. He settles the beer on his sternum, thumbing the corner of the label. Sucks in a deep breath and says, “Forty-eight.”

“Jesus,” you mutter, eyes wide.

He turns slowly, glaring at you. “Hilarious,” he drawls, bumping the bottle against your tummy.

You hiss at the sudden chill. Wiping cold droplets from your skin, you swipe it from his grasp.

Joel pushes himself from the bed with a quiet groan and pads across the room. His cock sways with each step, an arrowhead of thick hair at its base.

He doesn’t seem to mind, either.

You tip your chin back, taking a hefty swig.

The pulsing bass is heavier, guitar squeal sharper, when he cracks open the window. Cool air sweeps past the scent of sex and settles softly on your skin.

The mattress dips again as Joel settles back into bed. He pulls the sheet over himself, silk falling over the stubborn shape against his thigh.

“Well,” you pass him the bottle, “happy birthday, old man. Here’s to forty-eight.”

“Here’s to forty-eight,” Joel echoes, staring off into space, “and whatever the hell it has in store.”

1:29. 1:29. 1:30.

It’s blurring across your vision. The pain and the panic and the blinking of your fucking alarm clock.

Your stomach is still tensed in the aftermath of the contraction; an ache like the slow sway of the ocean, a wave rolling off into the distance. You’re hunched over the edge of the bed – knee bouncing, palms kneading your round belly.

“We’re okay,” you whisper, blowing into the still night. “We’re fine. Maybe it isn’t labor, right? Maybe it’s just those…Braxton…shit…Hicks.”

The cicadas laugh as your uterus swings again.

Another kick of pain; a bolt that winds you, piercing from your stomach down between your legs. So slow it feels fucking personal.

Your back curls, nails digging into the mattress. You grit your teeth until it passes, then push yourself to your feet, reaching for your phone.

You think of Joel: the flecks of gold in his eyes, the rough surface of his palms. The fresh, woodsy scent woven into every thread on his shirt, seeping from every pore on his skin.

The way he’d pull you under his arm and walk you to his truck. Play more Eagles or whatever shit he has to take your mind off the pain – tell you he knows, he knows as you whimper in agony. The way he’d hold your thigh the entire ride, loosening it only to weave his fingers through yours.

He’s in Houston, though. He’s something like three hours away. There’s nothing he could do, even if you did call – even if he did pick up. Even if he got in his truck right this second.

Shit. Shit fuck shit. How are you in labor right now, on this fucking night? All your teasing, all your taunting the universe. You really think that’s gonna happen? You think your kid’s that much of an asshole?

Yeah. They’re half you.

You’re on your own. It’s nothing new; you’ve been on your own for most of your life. You drove yourself to college, worked your ass off, and sold your graduation guest tickets to your roommate. You found a job by yourself, moved back to Austin and turned it into home by yourself.

You haven’t needed anyone or anything, since you were eighteen.

But – oh, Jesus, fuck it. This was a two-man job from the start. Some things you figure you can let slide – and having a kid seems like a pretty decent excuse.

Fuck it.

You move, hunched and hobbling, to the bathroom door. Slumped against the wooden frame, you cup a hand between your legs.

Sure enough, your underwear is soaked. The fluid trickles down the seam of your thigh, warm and thin. It glistens in the moonlight when you lift your fingers.

“Shit,” you whisper. “Goddamn it, Duck.”

Body tingling and almost numb with pain, you scroll through your contacts to J. You stumble into the bathroom, wet fingers slipping around the sink. A weight begins to pull low between your hips.

Two rings and the tone cuts, his voice instantly spilling a cool comfort down your spine.

There’s no hello, no double checking that you haven’t accidentally dialed him in your sleep. Only that trademark drawl, that flat tone you’d swear sounded bored, if it weren’t for the haste with which Joel asks, “You okay?” the second he answers.

As if he were awake anyway, just waiting for your call.

“Yeah,” you choke, rubbing the nape of your neck. “I just called at one in the morning to…to say hi.”

He sighs, the crackle of breath echoed by the tinkle of wind chimes. The creak of wood as he settles into a chair on Vanessa’s parents’ porch. “Alright, smartass. What is it?”

“I’m…I’m in labor.”

“Mhm. That sure is funny, baby. Good one.”

You groan. “No, Joel, I swear – I swear, I just went into labor.”

He pauses. The chimes titter in the background. “You’re…You ain’t kidding me?”

The sharp peak of pain swipes the air clean from your lungs. The phone hits the sink with a clatter, drowning out your cry.

This kid is beating the ever-loving shit out of you. You’d be embarrassed if you had the energy to think about it.

“Baby?” Joel yells, loud enough that the sound loops around the bowl. His voice lifts to an octave you didn’t know it could reach. “Talk to me. Please, talk to me.”

Your fingers clamp around the phone. “I’m f-fine. It’s fine. I just gotta…gotta change my fuckin’ sheets, Joel, my waters broke while I was sleeping –”

“Oh, Christ,” he growls. The door squeals as he storms back into Vanessa’s family home. “The sh…Change the goddamn sheets? You gotta get to a hospital, darlin’!”

You laugh, head tipping back. “It’s fine,” you tell him. “Feels like the kid’s trying to kill me, but I can – shit, I can take ‘em.”

There’s the jangle of keys, the ruffle of a shirt being thrown over his head. “Yeah?” Joel says.“You can take childbirth, all on your own? Do me a favor and call a damn ambulance, baby.”

“An ambulance,” you repeat, laughing again.

“Yes, an ambulance. Call 9-1-1 right now. You want me to call ‘em? Let me go grab the landline –”

“Joel, do not call an ambulance –”

And if you thought you’d heard him at breaking point before – plucking your underwear from his lawn, dragging you around Home Depot, paling in your room with a pregnancy test in his hands – you know you have, now.

“You gotta get to a goddamn hospital now, baby!”

His voice trembles at its end, quivers like the pluck of a guitar string. A high-pitched echo, a nervous vibration.

Joel’s panicking.

It’s the second thing in less than five minutes that you never knew he could do.

“I can’t afford a f-fucking ambulance, Joel,” you yelp, sitting back on the edge of the bathtub.

“I will pay for it,” he pleads, “I’ll pay. Just – you gotta call them. You gotta…” He sighs again, breath wavering. “You’re in labor, and you’re alone. If anything happened to you, I –”

A hushed voice interrupts him. Follows him through the house, knotting her nightgown around her waist and twisting her dark tresses into a ponytail.

“She’s in labor,” Joel tells her. “I can’t stay. I’m going back for her.”

The porch door slams shut before Vanessa can reply, and Joel’s back outside again. Gravel crunching beneath his boots, crickets screaming in the background. “Still with me?” he asks.

“Still here,” you breathe, tracing your nails along your leg. “Duckie says hi, I guess.”

He hums. “Hi, Duckie. You little shit.”

You rock back and forth, eyes closed. Breathing between contractions, your head low between your shoulders. “How long will you be?”

The truck door creaks open. “I’m leaving right now. I’ll be…Fuck, I’ll be a couple hours, at least. I’m on my way, alright?”

Tears drip onto your bare thighs, the salt spilling into your mouth. “Joel,” you shake your head, “I don’t think I can do this.”

“Yes, you can,” he says. “Are you kidding? Got us this far ‘n now you want to bail? That ain’t you, baby. Come on, now.”

“I wanna bail,” you insist. You slump to the floor, head lolling over the rim of the bathtub. Weeping like a little kid. “I’m scared, Joel. I’m so scared.”

“I know you are. Lord knows I’m scared, too – scared as hell. But –” the engine roars to life, “– I can’t wait to finally meet this kid. Our kid. Can’t wait to hold ‘em. Can’t wait to see you become a mom, and me become a dad.”

“Mom and Dad,” you whisper, sniffling.

“Mom and Dad, right? Yeah. You can do this. I know you can.”

The bathroom blurs behind your tears. You close your eyes, replacing the pale night with warmer dawn. Replacing it with images of tiny hands and feet; missing front teeth and a love-worn teddy tucked safely into bed.

Joel’s voice is softer, kinder. Calmer, now that he’s closing the hundred and fifty miles between the two of you.

“Just – don’t let the kid give you any shit, alright?”

The fear boils into determination. Something more irritating than it is terrifying. You inhale, blowing a heavy, shuddered breath to the ceiling. “Whatever, Miller.”

“Attagirl,” he says. “That’s the spirit. Now, call a damn ambulance.”

With a scoff, you push yourself to your feet, waddling towards the foot of your bed. You sway back and forth, holding your bump and listening to the hum of Joel’s truck.

And then you hear it.

Three sharp raps, from downstairs.

You wander to the hallway, squinting in the dark. “Joel?”

“Hm?”

“Are you…?”

The sound grows louder the nearer you draw. Quick knuckles against your front door.

“Am I what, darlin’?”

You lower yourself down the stairs, fist tight around the rail.

It’s August again. Sun’s encore blazing through your kitchen windows, bleeding golden through your living room. Everything shining, everything new and untouched.

Knock knock knock.

Light satin, duck egg blue; string lights and a diamond-encrusted necklace. The bones of your wardrobe propped against your porch. A rattling toolbox hanging from his fist, a positive pregnancy test in yours.

The knocking halts when you flick the porch light on. She calls your name once, old voice quivering.

Your phone is still glued to your ear as you pull the door open. “Al…?”

She squints at you and lifts a hand to shield from the light. She’s still in her pajamas – green dressing gown loose and lifting in the breeze.

Her eyes drop to the tee draped over your bump, the silver stream of fluid down the inside of your thigh. As she opens her mouth to speak, your hand slams into the doorpost.

“Oh, fuck,” you groan, and Alice Brown steps straight over the threshold.

“Are you in labor? Oh, sweetie. Sit down, sit.”

She backs you towards the stairs. One bony, trembling hand around yours – squeezing as tight as you are. She rubs up and down your spine, shushing until the pain subsides.

You blink up at her glowing figure, haloed by the porch light outside. “How did you…?”

She hushes you with a finger in the air. “I’m up most nights. I heard you from the window. Have you called 9-1-1?”

You shake your head, beginning to cry again.

Alice just nods, dismissing your bullshit. “Where’s your overnight bag, sweetheart?”

You toss a thumb over your shoulder. “It’s up in the nursery. I can go grab it –”

She holds you still with a hand on your shoulder. “Stay.” Another curt nod, then, “Get your shoes, get yourself over to my car. Do you need pants? You need pants. My car, right now.”

“Alice, you really don’t have to –”

“Get in the car,” she insists, climbing past you. “I’m right behind you!”

You watch her figure dissolve into the dim upstairs, and lift the phone back to your ear. “Did you…hear all that?”

“Alice Brown,” Joel replies, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “What’d I tell ya? That woman doesn’t miss a goddamn thing in this neighborhood.”

“Three centimeters,” the obstetrician says, covering your legs with the sheet. “Still a little ways to go.”

The suite is hushed and still. Walls an unoffending shade of oatmeal; decorated only with oak paneling and a framed painting of some lilies.

A nurse tilts the shades, averting the twinkling city lights in the distance. She turns and smiles – the same fucking smile everyone’s been giving you since you set foot in the place. Head tilted, brows arched.

Sympathy that you want to chew up and spit back out at their feet.

You force yourself to smile in return, and she floats back out to the bustling reception.

“Will he make it?” Alice asks. She’s still in her pajamas; the floral print goes well with the interior of the room. “The father, I mean. Joel.”

The obstetrician peels the gloves from her hands. She shrugs as she drops them into a wastebin. “I don’t see why not,” she says. “Things are moving a little quickly, but I don’t see you having your baby in the next couple hours.”

“You don’t know this kid like I do,” you groan, shifting in the bed.

She lifts the cardiotocograph reading, scanning the jagged lines. “You’re doing great,” she says. “I’ll be back in a little while. Just holler if you need anything.” She strolls off, letting the door sweep shut behind her.

Alice adjusts your pillow and squeezes your shoulder. She holds out a cup of water, guiding the straw to your lips. “He’ll be here,” she whispers.

You take a sip and settle back. “I don’t think I’m that lucky. I told him I hoped he’d get a flat on the ride there. This feels like karma.”

“Well, if it’s anyone’s karma –” she wiggles her fingers, “– it’s his. Going to Houston was ridiculous in the first place. Hell, you two not being together is ridiculous.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Just because we’re having a kid doesn’t mean we should be together. You shouldn’t be with someone for the sake of a baby who won’t even know any different.”

“Right, right,” Alice agrees, turning away. “You should only be with someone if you love them.”

“Exactly. And me and Joel – we’re not in love.”

She murmurs to herself. She lowers into a chair by the window, crossing her arms. “I’m seventy-three,” she says. “I’m not a damn fool.”

Something twists awkwardly between your hips. You wince, clutching your bump.

Duckie’s heartbeat pulses through the room. Muffled little bubbles of noise, popping one after the other. Strong and steady as hell – a determined little thing, the doctor said.

Don’t I fucking know it, you thought.

You reach for the silicone mask and cup it over your mouth. The gas is cold and funny when you inhale, feeling it shoot straight for the back of your skull. It does little more than dull the spiking pain, but still – you tip your head back, eyes rolling closed.

You let yourself fade from the suite – its yellow lamplight and hushed chatter outside – to somewhere warmer. Somewhere brighter.

Birdsong high overhead, and the whispering leaves on the oak trees in your yard. The sweet breeze on your skin, soothing the sting of the sun. Prickling wood on your fingertips, the gentle strum of a guitar somewhere beyond the fence.

Peering between the slats, catching glimpses of him like watching a film reel. His head nodding, his foot tapping. The concentration tight on his face; the perfect pick and pluck of his fingers on each string.

Half-hoping that he’ll spot you, scold you for spying and storm back into his house. That he might bring it up later – And another thing, while he whips his newspaper from your grasp, ignoring your cackling.

Half-hoping that he won’t. That he’ll sit there at his back door, bottle of beer at his feet, playing to his audience of sparrows.

And you’ll stand here, wishing you could ask the name of each song he hums.

The contraction splits your daydream in two.

In two hours, you dilate almost three centimeters.

You pace back and forth across the suite, pausing only when your womb clenches like a fist. The contractions are lasting longer, swinging lower, and punching harder. They’re giving you less recovery time; less of a chance to get back on your feet.

It’s a fucking nightmare.

Joel’s still not here. Last you heard, he’d just hit Travis County. Twenty minutes, baby, I promise. That was half an hour ago.

It might be for the better that he hasn’t gotten here. You’ve warned Alice three times already that you might just beat the shit out of him, whenever he walks through that door.

And you know what, sweetheart? She chuckled. I bet you could beat the shit out of him, sore as you are.

“Fuck,” you cry out, collapsing onto the bed. You stretch out forward, head hanging between your shoulders, and gulp back more of the laughing gas. The ache barrels from your stomach to your hips, peaking in the very center.

Alice rubs circles into the small of your back. It’s not helping, but you let her do it anyways. Gives her something to tell the neighbors that isn’t damaging to your reputation.

“That’s it,” she coos. “A little longer, just a little…”

The door clicks open just as the tense band begins to loosen.

Your head is spinning. The mask slips from your fingers.

Alice’s hand pauses. “…a little longer…” she repeats, voice drifting. Her weight leaves your back, replaced by something heavier, stronger.

Safer.

Someone grounding, someone smelling of pine and sweet spice.

He sits on the bed at your back and curves around your body. Lips to your shoulder like the sun in your backyard. His beard scratches against your hot skin.

You blink your eyes open.

Joel’s watch face winks back at you. His hands are over yours – bigger, wider. His fists swallow yours whole. They turn, slipping beneath your palms, and your fingers lace together.

“Joel…” you breathe, face turning in to his neck.

“Hi, sweet girl,” he says, wiping sweat from your brow.

You fall limp against his chest. “Holy shit.”

He looks exhausted. Gray, almost translucent. Looks like he’s just driven a couple hundred miles, half asleep and wholly panicked.

But – he’s here. He made it.

The sight of him, the feel of him holding you upright, melts away any anger or resolve to fight back. For now, at least. Picking an argument can wait until there isn’t a human splitting you in two.

He’s here. You’re not doing this alone.

“Holy shit,” Joel repeats. “You okay?”

“How did you get here so –?”

“Ninety-five the entire way.”

You frown. “Only ninety-five?”

“Trunk’s a hunk a’ shit,” he admits. “Couldn’t break a hundred.”

Alice scoffs, somewhere across the room.

He cradles you, his lips to your forehead. “Where we at?” he asks, staring at the paper churning from the cardiotocograph.

“Five, almost s–shit – six centimeters.” You clamp down on his hands, your uterus winding again.

Joel holds the mask back to your lips and you suck another chemical breath in. “Six? Jesus,” he gapes at Alice, “ain’t that…ain’t that real fast? For – for your first?”

Your fingers are weak and shaky, resting on his knuckles. “Your kid has a sick sense of humor,” you mutter into the silicone.

“That ain’t from me,” he says. “That’s all you, maestro.”

You turn closer into his shirt with a groan. He’s solid as a rock, swaying you through it. He’s here.

Alice swipes her coat from a hook by the door. She shakes her head, pulling it over her shoulders. “Ninety-five, Joel? Sweet Lord.”

He rolls his eyes. His hand curves around your bump. “Had a little bit of an emergency, Alice,” he says, watching your face twist with pain.

“And what if you’d had an accident?”

“I didn’t, Alice.”

“You could’ve, goin’ that damn fast. You’re lucky you’re even here.”

Joel finally looks up. “It’s four in the mornin’,” he protests, like a teenager. “Lucky if I passed five cars.”

You give him a weak smile, lowering the mask. You won’t win, you mouth.

He presses his lips to your head. “’s too much fun,” he murmurs, and you snort.

“Oh!” Alice throws a hand up. “I’m glad you find it funny!” She buttons her coat and glares back at both of you, hands on her hips.

She’s a busybody – has been since before you even moved in. She showed up on your doorstep on your first night with a casserole in hand, and made sure to get a good look at your living room before she shuffled back to her own place.

Always watching, always listening.

You never thought you’d see the day when you’d actually be thankful for her snoopiness.

“Thank you, Alice,” you say, head tilting. “For getting me here, for holding my hand…Thank you.”

Her expression thaws, eyes gleaming. With a sniff, she composes herself – and then points to Joel. “You call me as soon as that baby arrives. I won’t sleep, Joel, until you call.”

“I’ll call,” he assures.

She looks back at you. Balls her crepe paper fists, gives them a hearty shake. “Good luck, Mom,” she says, and with one last glance, slips out of the room.

Joel turns back to you, an eyebrow raised. “Take it she was out tendin’ to her tulips again?”

“Yeah,” you snicker, “one in the morning, those fuckers had to be watered.”

He chuckles. “You feelin’ okay?”

“Better now,” you tell him.

“I’m so sorry, darlin’,” he says, shaking his head. “I should’ve been here. A goddamn idiot, headin’ off like that. So damn stupid.”

“Shh, you’re here now.” You wipe the tears from the corners of his eyes. “I just needed you to be here.”

He nods. “I’m here, whatever you need. Tell me what I can do.”

You take a deep breath. “I need…”

Joel straightens – bracing, ready to jump at your first request.

“…I need a fucking break, Joel. I’m so tired, and this fucking kid –”

“Alright,” he sighs, shifting from behind you. “You and your goddamn jokes.”

You smirk, looking over your shoulder. “You missed me.”

“Hm,” he fixes the neckline of your gown, “I missed you. I really did.”

Born at 07:43. It’s a girl.

It’s like being broken open. Like splitting at the seams; your old self falling from you like shards of fruit. Separating, rolling apart; making way for someone older, wiser. Someone with all of the answers in the palm of her hand.

Mom.

You finally get it. She turns to you, finally glances over her shoulder. And she’s no stranger – no one you haven’t known your entire life. I know you, you whisper, nail trailing her smile lines and the pimples along her jaw.

I see you every time I look in the mirror.

Duckie is pulled from your body with a scream like bloody murder – a scream which matches the whimper you let out in shock, if not in volume.

The kid can scream. Jesus Christ, she can scream. It pierces the dull room; deafens you for a couple seconds the first time you hear it.

You’ve never heard a sound so fucking beautiful.

She wails as they lift her from your body. All curled-up, wriggling in the midwife’s arms. She wails as they slot her beneath your chin, as they wipe the blood and amniotic fluid from her.

She wails until the moment her skin meets yours, and as though it’s all you’ve ever known, you begin shushing her cries. Your arms close around her body, rocking her until she settles.

Her tiny hand grabs for something, for someone, for –

You.

Her mom.

“Joel,” you gasp, watching her tiny, pruned fingers clasp tight around just one of yours. “She’s…she’s so small…”

He sniffs in reply, lifting his hand from your shoulder to wipe his face.

You turn to look up at him.

He looks as broken open as you feel. Eyes bloodshot and soaking, tears streaming into his thick beard. A sob in his throat which chokes and silences him, until he catches your eye and he can’t help but laugh with elation.

“Look at her,” he weeps, all torn up by the little girl in your arms. He presses his lips to your forehead in a crash of a kiss: wet, soaking wet on your skin.

You beam up at him when he pulls away. “We did it,” you whisper.

Joel shakes his head. He runs a thumb across the damp print left on your head. “You did it, honey,” he mutters. “I was nothin’ but a spectator.”

“You almost missed the game,” you quip, and he laughs again.

Your body throbs; nearly numb with pain, heavy with fatigue and emotion. But as long as she’s here, this tiny tornado of a girl, you don’t feel a thing.

Clenching and then unclenching her fist around your finger – so delicate compared to the punches she was throwing at your ribs just six hours ago. She’s worth every fucking second of it.

You finally fucking get it.

She fits so perfectly in the crook of your arm. It feels as though your body was made just to hold her – the very shape of you, designed especially for the very shape of her.

You wonder whether it was the same for your mom. Whether you came along and made her feel whole, for the first time in her life.

Duckie’s eyes open – all glossy and brand new, blinking up at the both of you like she needed no introduction. She already knows you, from the inside out. Her dad’s graying beard, the threads of silver around his temples. Her mom’s tear-stained cheeks, eyes red and bleary with sleeplessness and pure love.

You’re Mom, you’re Dad.

It’s all she’s ever known.

The pillow sighs as you lean back into it. The doctor begins repairing the damage done between your legs; threading and knitting your body back together.

You’re caught between a state of bliss and shock. Your brain is doing much the same work to itself as the woman between your knees is. Patching over all the bloody parts: the screams which tore your skin, the pain which cracked your teeth.

None of it holds a candle to the weight of her in your arms. No matter how tired you are, you can’t take your eyes off her. Her puffy cheeks, the little creases between her brows. No matter how sore, you never want to let go of her.

Joel runs a finger down Duckie’s cheek. “Ain’t she the most beautiful thing in the world?”

“I love her,” you say, bubbling again. “I love her more than anything.”

An hour old, and she’s already a daddy’s girl.

Joel ambles back and forth at the foot of your bed in the recovery suite, bouncing Duck in his arms. He’s never looked so relaxed, so natural at something. He’s never seemed so content, so peaceful.

Everything he’s ever made with his hands – structures and framework and your goddamn closet – and yet this, this tiny accident, this baby girl you were so sure you’d dreamt up right up until an hour ago –

This is the thing he’s proudest of.

Morning lifts through the windows, all soft and vanilla. It floats around him, sunlight spilling across his skin and breathing life and color into him.

Sunlight – or his daughter. They’re the same thing, anyway.

You pull apart a slice of toast, watching. Just watching. Sweet strawberry jam on your tongue, the flavor of everything sharper, fresher. The colors brighter, more vivid.

The world makes more sense like this, you think. Painted in shades of honey and ochre; a room in a corner of the world where time slows to a halt. A soft lullaby from his lips, and the little coos from hers.

The ache of love and labor lingers deep inside you, and nothing has ever made more sense.

You suck the sticky sweet from your fingertips.

Joel looks up, toying with Duckie’s hand. “You want her back?” he asks, a dumb grin on his face.

You shake your head. “I like watching you.”

He scrunches his nose, nuzzling it against his daughter’s, and whispers, “I wasn’t gonna give you back, anyways.” He sways in the early light, staring down at her. “Jesus,” he mutters, swiping at his eyes again, “I didn’t…I didn’t know I could love somethin’ this much.”

“Me, either.”

He drifts over, lowering himself slowly onto the edge of the bed. He extends his elbow, still cradling the baby, and helps you pull yourself upright.

You hiss, a not-so-subtle sting between your legs.

“You, uh…you think of a name yet?” Joel asks.

“Not yet,” you reply, hooked onto his shoulder. Duck blows a bubble and you wipe it with your knuckle. “I thought we were sticking with Duckie?”

His cheeks swell. The sun kisses the edges of his beard. “I thought of one,” he says softly. “Maybe. It’s your call.”

You yawn into his shirt, the warmth of him calm and soothing. “Alright, Miller. Hit me.”

He looks down at the baby nestled in his safe hands. The smallest thing either of you have ever seen.

The name must roll around his head a few times, the way he tilts to-and-fro – looking at her from one angle, then the next. Deciding, when he pulls back, that she suits it from every direction. Like it was her name long before he or even you knew it.

You watch his lips shape the name before you hear it.

Sarah.

And for what feels like forever, you just stare at him. The syllables lingering in the air like glistening specks of dust in a sunbeam. Your eyes follow them down to your daughter, now sleeping peacefully with two hands around one of her dad’s thumbs.

“Sarah,” you repeat, remembering whose name it was, whose name it is – whose name it has always been. “Sarah Miller.”

Joel’s shoulders lift. “What do you think? She look worthy of bein’ a Sarah?”

The rustle of tissue paper. Blue and green and purple tearing between your fingers. The funny fuzz of pom poms as your hands rummaged through the bag. Her hand swimming towards you, an orange foam fish riding the waves between her fingers. Bubbly sounds erupting from her lips.

Your girlish giggle. Her silly grin. Hopscotch along the sidewalk; stopping to look for cars before she’d walk you across the street. How much do I love you, baby girl?

More than the whole world, Mama.

“I love it,” you breathe, tears running to the corners of your mouth. “Sarah fucking Miller.”

“Sarah fuckin’ Miller,” Joel echoes; two wet lines the same as yours, curving down his cheeks. He shifts her into the crook of his arm.

You’re impossibly close. Your chin rests on his shoulder, foreheads brushing when you lean in to each other. His breath is hot on your lips, closer and closer and closer until –

He tastes like salt, rich with emotion. Salt, and then sweet when your tongue meets his. He lifts his free hand to cup your cheek, and your fingers link around his wrist.

And you know you shouldn’t be doing it – know this isn’t your man to be kissing. But in this room, where no one else can see – where it’s just you, him, and all the best parts of yourselves shaped into someone better – he feels like yours.

Just for a moment.

Joel takes the first week of Sarah’s life off work.

He spends a good twenty minutes on the phone to the contractor, talking more about the kid than he does the job. Her eyelashes, her fingernails, the way her legs scrunch anytime he lifts her up.

He’s besotted with the entire thing. And he tells everybody so.

He moves in with you both, stays in your guestroom. It’s a week of no sleep, no peace, and a total of three showers between you. Wearing the same clothes covered in spit-up and drool until one of you has the time or energy to do laundry.

It’s hard. It’s the hardest thing you’ve ever done. By your count, you’ve already cried three times to Joel – terrified you’re getting it all wrong.

But you’re doing it. Jesus God, you’re doing it.

You order takeout most nights. You can’t stand long enough to cook just yet, and you don’t trust Joel not to burn your fucking kitchen down – despite his protests. And it feels like, after everything your body’s given you, it deserves a greasy pizza and some chicken wings.

You rot on the couch together, watching shitty TV and arguing over reruns of Jeopardy! – until Sarah wakes and the whole thing begins again.

Joel loses the game of rock, paper, scissors tonight.

“Shh, baby girl. ‘s alright now, I gotcha,” he lulls, tucking her back in to her bassinet.

She fusses and stretches out; arms over her head, legs curled up. Her onesie is still a little too big – the socked feet all baggy, the sleeves rolled up her wrists.

He lingers for a moment as she drifts off, a hand stroking her tummy. Watching, always watching her. The rise and fall of her stomach, the puffs of breath from her nostrils, her lips still suckling away in her sleep.

“I swear I have a baby photo that looks just like her,” you say. “Same nose and everything.”

Joel clicks his teeth. “Got her looks from her mom. Lucky thing.”

“Low-hanging fruit,” you snort.

He drifts back over, sinking into the couch at your side. “Doin’ okay?” he asks, and you nod.

Every muscle in your body still feels like a ton weight. Your stomach is still swollen; there are still stitches between your legs. There are moments you can’t tell if you’re crying because of hormones, exhaustion, or joy.

Every time, it’s a combination of all three.

Life before feels so long ago – and it hasn’t even been a fortnight. But then you held her for the first time, and now – your arm misses the weight of her when she’s not in it. Your house feels eerily quiet when she’s not laughing, or whimpering, or screaming the fucking roof down.

You can feel your daughter growing up already, and she’s only ten days old.

On the mantelpiece, safe in a stippled gold frame, your mom beams down over her. The photo at least twenty years old, the memory even older. Laughing, the way she always was; nothing quite so funny as a joke frozen in time.

Joel prods you with his elbow. “She’d be proud of you, you know. Your mom.”

“Oh,” you scoff, “no, she’d be like, Holy shit. This kid totally kicked your ass.”

He chuckles. “Sure she did,” he shrugs, “she’s your kid.”

The TV babbles to itself across the room. In its glow, Joel meets your eye. A tiny, pearly fleck swimming in deep honey.

It’s familiar – each shade of bronze in his eyes, each thread of silver through his hair. Like you’ve mapped each and every line on his skin, collecting them like the sleepless hours between you.

Everything about him feels so normal. Burnt toast in the morning, a spoon clinking around a mug of coffee. The rustle of the newspaper, the sizzle of eggs in the pan, the baby snoring on your chest.

Everything – and yet nothing you’ve ever known.

“I miss her,” you whisper. “I miss my mom.”

His hand finds yours instantly. “I know, baby. I know you do.”

You slouch down, leaning on his shoulder, and close your eyes. Joel presses his lips to the crown of your head, his thumb looping around your knuckles.

Sarah gurgles in her sleep. She sighs – a satisfied little sound. Nothing has ever made more sense.

His voice rumbles against your skull. “Who sent the lilies?”

Your eyes flutter open. “Hm?”

Joel flicks his finger towards the window, towards a sprawl of speckled, cream flowers. “The lilies? They weren’t there this morning.”

“Oh…” You turn to look up at him, cringing.

He sees the flicker of her behind your eyes. Her lustrous curtain of hair, her perfect almond nails.

“Really?” Joel asks, mirroring your expression.

You nod, trying not to laugh. “From her and Kate. You were upstairs with Sarah when she came by. I offered to call you down, but – she just wanted to drop ‘em and go.”

“What did she…? Did she say anything?”

Your head shakes. “She just…she said congratulations, said she hoped we were okay. Then she got in her car and she left. I kinda figured things weren’t sunshine and roses, anyway. You haven’t fuckin’ seen her since Houston.”

He snorts, fingers massaging his eyes. “I was goin’ to tell you,” he mumbles into his palms, “I just…Honey, I don’t even know what day of the week it is right now. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” you mutter.

“Yes, I do,” he insists. His eyes flit over to Sarah, then back to you. “We haven’t really talked it through yet, me ‘n her. I called her a few days ago, we agreed it’s time. It – it’s past time. I shoulda called it months ago.”

“I guess,” you sigh. “Are you okay?”

Joel’s brow furrows. “’course I am. I got the most beautiful baby girl in the world,” and then, rolling his eyes, “you’re here.”

“Oh, fuck you,” you clip, batting his arm. “Vanessa could do way better, anyways.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

You squeeze his fingers, softly adding, “I’m sorry it didn’t work out, Joel.”

He stares down at your clasped hands. He looks tired, worn out. You figure it’s not just from the newborn. But he takes a deep breath, something the color of relief dawning on his skin, and looks you dead in the eye.

“I’m not.”

­“Hey, Duckie – can you say, Happy birthday, Daddy?”

A vinyl wobbles on the turntable – some acoustic record from when Joel was a teenager. There’s wrapping paper still crumpled beneath the coffee table; four plates with more crumbs than cake left, dotted around the room.

Tommy leans in, a lopsided party hat on his head, and tickles Sarah’s chin.

She blinks at him, unamused, then scrunches her little nose and turns back into your chest.

He sighs, straightening. “She don’t like her uncle Tommy all that much,” he grumbles, sulking back over to the couch. Maria puts a consoling arm around his shoulder.

You rest your lips on Sarah’s head, breathing in her sweet scent. Swaying back and forth, you tease, “She don’t like anyone all that much, not unless they’re her daddy.”

Joel’s head lifts and he smiles, eyes glistening. He watches you and Sarah dance; laughs when you twirl her around and she tips her head back, flashing a gummy grin.

“She’ll come around to ya,” he tells Tommy, wandering over to your side. “We all learned to, eventually.”

Tommy scoffs. “Very funny, old man. Jesus.”

Joel stoops down to let Sarah run her small hands through his beard. He catches her fingertips between his lips and pretends to nibble on them.

She giggles, squirming in your arms. Her fingers find the sweeps of hair on his forehead and, taking a fistful, she tugs.

“Christ,” Joel hisses, pulling back.

“That was on you this time,” you chuckle, pointing a finger. “You know she does that, and you still fall for it.”

Maria glances down at her watch. “Is that the time?” she asks, turning to Tommy. “We should really turn in.”

“Oh – right, right.” Tommy tips the last of his beer into his mouth. “We’re takin’ Mom to brunch tomorrow. Better get some goddamn rest.”

Joel hums, still massaging his hairline. “Hey,” he whispers, elbowing you. “Maybe I should take her over. She’s getting sleepy – ain’t you, little Duck?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Tommy stands and holds a hand out. “Why don’t you let Maria and I take her? We’ll tuck her in, keep an eye on her. We weren’t half bad the other day, while y’all were at work. And if she’s stayin’ at Joel’s tonight anyway…”

You glance to Joel, who shrugs. Something shaped like Sure.

“As long as you don’t mind,” you reply, bouncing the baby slowly. “Let me go grab her things.”

Joel’s hand slips across the small of your back as you pass, making for the stairs. He lingers at the bottom, watching until you turn into the nursery with Sarah in the crook of your arm.

You set her down in her crib and gather some of her favorites: a yellow blanket, a duck comforter, a rattle shaped like an elephant. She watches contentedly as you shuffle back and forth, staring when you lean over the wooden rail.

“You know how much I love you?” you whisper, curling a finger inside her fist. She squeezes, and you say, “More than the whole world.”

She grabs at the chain dangling from your neck, the letter S catching the light. Instead, she lifts your finger to her mouth. Her nails scratch light as a feather across your skin. Her gums are tiny and soft around your knuckle.

Everything about her is tiny and soft. Her sweeping eyelashes, her plushy cheeks. Her round tummy, and the squeals she lets free as you dot kisses and blow raspberries all over it. No matter how much she’s grown in three months, she’s still so tiny.

She’ll always be the smallest, sweetest thing you’ve ever known. And she’s all yours.

“Jesus, kid,” you sniff, swiping at your tears. You slip your hands around her back and prop her on your hip. “Alright, let’s go. Quit making your mom cry.”

The bag over your shoulder, you carry her out of the room and into the dark hallway. It’s quiet downstairs; nothing but the crackle of the record player, the distant chink of dishes in the kitchen.

That – and hushed voices in the living room.

“Joel,” Tommy says, over and over again. He’s trying to cut in between his brother’s rambling. Joel – listen to me. Just listen, for one second –”

You linger on the bottom step, trying to split Joel’s voice from Tommy’s. Trying to pluck the words out, over Maria’s humming from the next room.

“…and it ain’t that simple, Tommy it’s –”

“What ain’t simple about it? You have a –” Tommy says it through his teeth, “– you have a kid together, Joel. You really think she’s gonna –”

Sarah grabs the charm around your neck and shakes suddenly, rattling the chain.

You close your hand around hers, losing your balance. “Shhhhit, Duckie, you –”

Joel’s eyes snap to your figure as you step down. He clears his throat, leaning away from Tommy. “Hey – hey, darlin’.”

“Hey,” you reply. Bright. Chipper. Unclenching your fist to let your daughter shake your necklace some more.

She squeals with delight when she spots Joel across the room.

“She ready to go?” he asks, slinging a quick – telling – look at Tommy.

You look between the brothers, browns quirking. They look as guilty as each other: scratching their beards, staring at the furniture instead of you. “Uhuh,” you reply, tongue against your teeth. “Everything…everything okay?”

Tommy slaps his thighs as he stands. “Everything’s great, sweetheart. Sure as shit. Joel – you, uh…you got a key on ya?”

“Oh, yep.” Joel reaches into his pocket. He unhooks a silver key from the chain and drops it into his brother’s open palm.

Tommy calls for Maria. He sidesteps around you, face flushed and smiling.

She floats through from the kitchen, drying her palms on her jeans. “Where’s my baby duck?” she sings, reaching for Sarah.

You pass her over and she melts into her aunt’s arms, curling up into a little pink lump on her chest. “She just had a feed, like, twenty minutes ago, so – she should go down pretty well. And there are more bottles in Joel’s fridge, if you need ‘em.”

Maria nods, wrapping Sarah’s blanket around her. She lifts the bag strap from your shoulder and hands it to Tommy. “I’ll text you as soon as she’s down. Come on, Duckie, let’s get you to bed.”

Tommy leans over and squeezes your arm, winking as he follows his wife. He calls goodnight to Joel, lifting a pointed finger over his head, and closes the door behind them.

Things could not have gone smoother.

It’s suspicious as shit.

You turn when you hear Joel shifting.

“C’mon,” he utters, a pile of plates in one hand. “I ain’t leavin’ you with this mess.” He heads through to the kitchen, broad figure swaying.

The plates spill into the sink, water trickling over them. Joel hums to himself as he gets to work with a sponge in hand.

You linger in the living room.

Things have been good lately – peaceful. You’re in as much of a routine as Sarah will allow: a steady pattern of dropping her off and picking her back up, patchwork family dinners, daytrips whenever both of you can make them.

Your body is healing, pulling itself back together. You don’t have to think about being Mom anymore – she walks in stride with you. The world is painted a new shade of normal – one where you can do anything with a baby on your hip, one where love becomes your first language.

One where you swallow back the ache in your heart, for better or for worse. The only piece of you still fractured. The only wound left open.

Joel’s birthday cards lie flat on the coffee table. You pluck them up one by one – his parents’, Tommy and Maria’s, yours – and Sarah’s.

A messy splotch of a handprint, bright yellow paint smeared across half the fucking card (she hasn’t quite mastered self-control yet). A googly eye plastered to the bird’s chest; orange crayon for the beak and legs.

Sure, you took charge for most of the project – but when he opened it and saw his daughter’s little masterpiece, you caught him swiping his knuckle at the corner of his eye. He snuggled into her, perched on his lap, and whispered, Thank you, little Duckie.

You prop them along your mantelpiece, dotted around your mom’s photo. When you step back, looking from son to brother to…a good friend, you could almost pretend.

Almost pretend that they belong here, on this mantelpiece. There is no yours and his. Just one of everything; nothing doubled nor halved.

Almost pretend that he won’t collect them as he leaves, break into another teary laugh at the sight of the duck painting, and then kiss your cheek goodnight. Promise to have your daughter back in time to go swimming tomorrow morning.

Almost.

“Hey,” Joel calls, “did you, uh – did you hear Tommy talkin’ about Jackson?”

You slip into the kitchen, side by side with him at the sink. “Uh, yeah,” you reply, lifting a towel. “Moose, pine trees. Yep.”

“It sounds beautiful. You think we should take a trip up there sometime? Could be Sarah’s first vacation.”

“You mean the three of us?”

He shrugs, scrubbing a bowl in the water. “Sure. I don’t think Duckie would let one of us stay behind, do you? She’d scream the damn airport down,” he chuckles, looking back to the twinkling bubbles.

You hum. “Maybe.”

“You don’t feel like it?”

“No, I do. I just – I don’t know. Maybe someday.”

“Okay,” Joel says, nodding. “Put a pin in it.”

He passes you a dripping plate and you drag the towel over it, circling the pattern until the suds are wiped clean. And another, and another.

It feels awkward. It feels stiff. There’s something hanging between you, heavy on both your shoulders. A weight you haven’t felt around Joel in over a year.

You turn to him as he stacks the last plate on the draining board. “Is that what you were talking to Tommy about?”

Joel pauses. “You heard that, huh?”

“Only the part about having a kid. It’s none of my business, I know, I just –”

“Actually,” he clears his throat, “it’s plenty your business.”

He leans back against the counter and crosses his arms. A deep breath, cheeks puffing as he exhales. His grip on the dish towel whitens his knuckles.

He’s…nervous. The same shade of gray he wore the night you went into labor.

He takes another unsteady breath.

“Joel?” you ask, head tilting. “Whatever it is, you can say it. I got whiskey, if that’ll make it easier. Probably tastes like shit, but…”

His expression cracks. His eyes twinkle, and he smiles. Only a little, but enough. Enough to let the words slip through.

“You know, that night at Tommy’s wedding was one of the best nights of my life.”

Your heartbeat thuds a bassline in your ears; the rush of your blood the squealing guitar. Skin tacky, moans caught between teeth. Laughter and lust tangling together in the air.

“Yeah?” you ask.

Joel nods. “Yeah. Lying there – talking, laughing, messin’ around. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed that hard in all my life. I could’ve stayed in that room with you forever.”

Your eyes start to sting. You look away.

“I thought I would regret it. I thought I should regret it. And I never did. But then,” he takes a deep breath, “the next day, I look out front, and my newspaper’s sittin’ on my lawn. And for two weeks straight, I kept checking – and there it was. I thought, Sure as shit, she regrets the whole thing. I thought you never wanted to see me again.”

You shake your head. “I wanted to see you again. I missed – I missed you. Missed pissin’ you off.”

He laughs. “I missed you pissin’ me off. Missed that annoying as hell thud on my porch.”

“I didn’t know if you wanted me to – you know,” you admit, and Joel nods.

“We got pretty good at avoidin’ each other,” he grumbles. “And then – with Vanessa, I thought I’d be doin’ you a favor. Letting you off light.”

“You…you took her number to do me a favor?”

“Naw,” Joel says. “I took her number ‘cause her brother in-law has a lumber company, and I had a closet to build. I was drunk, I was an idiot, and I brought it up to her at the wedding. By the time I thought it through, you ‘n I weren’t speakin’.”

You stare at him, jaw slack. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

He shakes his head. He edges closer to you. Voice low, he says, “I shouldn’t’ve gone out on that first date with her. I shouldn’t’ve done any of it. I should’ve talked to you about what I was feeling.”

“Well, maybe we both should’ve,” you mutter, wringing your hands. “I wasn’t exactly the best at it, either.”

His head tips, considering. “Can I tell you now?”

You glance over to him. “Tell me what, Miller?”

“Tell you…tell you that I love you,” he whispers.

It steals the breath from your lungs. One clean swipe.

He nods to himself, then – certain of it – and says it again. “I do, darlin’. I love you.”

Your heart begins to hammer. Tears spill over onto your cheeks, dripping from your jaw.

“And, look –” Joel takes your wrists, “– I got no right to say any of that, I know. I put you through a hell of a lot, these last few months – and that kills me. But if you’ll let me, I swear to you – I’ll make it up to you. I’ll take care of you for the rest of my life.”

You look up. His cheeks are dappled, too – glistening with tears. “Joel…” you weep.

He cups your jaw. “Listen to me. What we’ve had, the last three months – I want it all the time. I want you, and I want Duck. I want the three of us under one roof. I want to sleep in the same bed as you.”

You breathe a shuddered laugh. Your hands fall over his wrists. Keep talking, you mouth, bottom lip trembling.

“I want to get married, or not,” Joel says. “I want to show up to Tommy and Maria’s anniversary party late, ‘cause Duck couldn’t pick which shoes she wanted to wear. I want to have more kids, take ‘em on vacation.”

“Wyoming?” you sniff.

“Wyoming,” he repeats. “I want…I want all of it, baby. You ‘n me. I want you ‘n me, more than anything in the world. And if I’m too late, then you can tell me. Tell me, and I swear on my life I will never mention it again.”

Your hands curve over his. His strong knuckles, worked and weathered and worn by his years. Down to his wrists – the tatty strap on his ages-old watch, the dark hair peppered along his arms.

“I love you so much, baby. So much that it drives me insane. You drive me…fuckin’ insane.”

“Oh, fuck you,” you whisper, balling your fists against his chest.

Joel laughs, nose brushing against yours. “Yeah,” he sniffs, “I figured you’d say som’ like that.”

“I love you, too,” you mumble, linking your arms around his neck. “Shit, I love you.”

“Ain’t that a thing?” he says, and his lips are on yours.

It’s been a year. A year since the first time you felt him – lips soft as velvet, sweet with alcohol and something stronger. His tongue and yours, his teeth and yours. Every part of you clashing with every part of him.

And goddamn, you’ve missed it.

Joel follows you upstairs, pinning you to the wall by your bedroom door. White heat flooding through your veins, he kneels before you and pulls you onto his tongue.

He’s hungry.

He laps at you as though you’ll be gone in the morning. As though he won’t wake up tangled in you, breathing in your scent, lips on your skin.

Dusk seeps in at the edges of your vision; daylight draining from the sky. It’s dark, too dark to see him clearly, but you feel him fucking everywhere.

His beard grazes the inside of your thigh. He kisses where he scratches your skin. He holds your hips steady, tongue dipping in and out.

“You know how fuckin’ sweet you taste?” he growls, slipping inside again.

He looks so good between your legs. Like he was made for it – made for you. All yours, in ways you never really understood until now.

He brings you to the edge with his tongue flat against your clit. Holding your hips firm against his mouth, groaning with you as you fall.

You come with a broken moan. Hips stutter to a halt, legs fall wide open. The warmth in your belly spills over and rushes to every corner of your body.

Joel moans, tongue still lapping as your cunt pulses all over him. “Good fuckin’ girl,” he slurs, watching you come undone.

He stands, a chaste kiss to your lips, and then parts them with his tongue. “Taste good?” he mumbles, kissing you gently.

Yeah, you think, moaning against him, it tastes fucking good.

He spreads you out on your mattress and kisses what feels like every square inch of your body. You giggle at the feeling of his lips behind your ear; moan when they close around your nipple.

Your back arches; little lightning bolts as he pulls the buds to a peak. Your fingers knot through his hair; hissing at the meeting of pain and pleasure between Joel’s lips.

“I love you,” you whisper, when he settles between your legs. You don’t know that you’ve felt something so true in all your life.

He smiles. Your fingers trace the lines at his eyes.

“Come here,” he says, and pulls your hips to meet his.

You curve a hand around his neck, glancing down at your open legs. “Looks a little different to the last time you saw her.”

Joel shakes his head, licking his lips. “Beautiful, baby. She looks so goddamn beautiful.”

Each movement is careful, deliberate. He notches his tip at your hole and pauses until you’re looking at him again.

And then he pushes in.

He slips an arm under your head; the other holding your thigh on his waist. He kisses you as you stretch around him. He still tastes like salt and slick.

You gasp, teeth gritting around a hiss. “Fuck,” you whimper, turning in to his chest.

“Easy, easy,” Joel coos, voice rumbling against your temple. “Catch your breath. Doin’ so good.”

“It’s not sore,” you tell him, nodding for him to move again. “It’s…it’s just…different.”

“Tighter,” he groans, eyes on your cunt as it draws his cock in.

You agree, “Tighter.”

He catches you in another kiss, his tongue slipping between your lips. “Feel so good, sweet girl. Breathe. ‘m right here.”

It’s never felt like this before. This gentle, this tender.

You have never felt like this before. Broken open, stitched back together. Your heart split into two – whole again each time his body meets yours.

Joel catches your moans on his tongue. He steadies his pace; rocking into you over and over. Laughing against your lips; your fingers intertwined with his.

“Feel good?” he pants.

Your head rolls back. “Mhm.”

“Take it, baby. Such a tight little thing.”

��Joel,” you cry, “I’m close.”

His teeth nip at your neck. “Shit,” his hips jump, “attagirl. Just like that.” He thrusts into you harder, bleeding the color from your vision.

You pull his lips to yours, foreheads tacky. Joel’s eyes gloss over.

I love you, he breathes.

And the world whitens.

He pulls you against his chest when you come back around. Shifts up the headboard, skin all sticky and warm. He kisses your temples, kisses your shoulders, kisses your knuckles.

You melt into his grasp, turning to look up at him. You run your fingers over his lips, through his damp hair. Just staring. Drinking him all in.

“You were right next door, the entire time,” you whisper.

He runs a thumb across your cheek. “Yep.”

“Do you think we wasted too much time?”

Joel’s lip turns. “Nah,” he says. “We found our way.”

“Needed a little help, though.”

He scoffs, tongue between his teeth. “I’m sure she’ll hold it against us forever.”

You think of that evening in August. The last bow of the sun before your world changed forever. Of deals struck and promises made. Of satin on your fingertips – newspaper ink and duck egg silk.

You think of that photograph on your mantelpiece. Bright eyes watching every second of it. A smile on her face the entire time.

You laugh to yourself. Joel looks down and kisses your swollen cheek.

“We should go,” he taps your thigh, “got a little duck who’ll be wonderin’ where her mama and daddy are.”

The church tower rings out twice as the truck purrs between graves.

Joel pulls up under the shade of a sycamore, tires rolling to a halt. Sarah kicks her feet, her heels thudding against her car seat.

“Mama,” she presses a sticky finger to the back window, “flowers.”

“Yeah, baby,” you call over your shoulder, hugging your own graveside gift a little tighter in your arms. “Lots of ‘em, huh?”

“Yeah,” your daughter quietly considers, then kicks her seat again.

Joel waits patiently for you to give him the go ahead. He slips a hand around your knee, looking ahead at the rows of headstones. So patient, so gentle.

Your chest swells, a deep breath filling your lungs, and you nod. “Alright.”

“Sure?” he asks. “Take as long as you want, darlin’.”

But if you wait any longer, you’ll never leave. The paper wrap crinkles in your arms. “You take Duck,” you reply, “I’ll take…”

Joel lifts your hand, placing a soft kiss between your knuckles. “You got it. We’ll walk on.”

He leaves you in the truck to collect yourself. He unbuckles Sarah and sets her loose, following her across the grass with his hands in his pockets.

Her light-up sneakers flash as she sprints; head tossed back, toothless smile pointed to the sun. She turns back to her dad, her little hand fitting perfectly into his.

Made for each other.

You hook your fingers around the handle and leave the truck.

Their grave is a short walk down a grassy slope, sheltered by another towering tree. Its leaves flutter down around you as you near the stone; stray petals which catch in the breeze and lead the way.

You kneel down, the grass dry and prickly through your jeans. “Hi, Mom,” you whisper, sweeping some dust from the base of the grave. “Hi, Dad.”

Your grandma picked this spot. She’s long gone – laid to rest elsewhere with a grandfather you never met – so you try to visit as often as you can. Freshen the flowers, brighten up the stone.

It fucking sucks, but someone’s gotta do it.

You peel the brown paper from the bouquet, exposing the soft colors Sarah picked back in the florist. They fit perfectly on the stone, right beneath the words Devoted parents.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, a feeling that wraps itself around your throat and steals any other words – until a flash of pink catches your attention.

“Duckie,” Joel calls, following her between graves. “Hey. This is a cem…Hey, Duck, listen – this is a cemetery, we gotta be – Sarah!”

You stifle a laugh, watching him jog after the hoodie tied around her waist. He swipes for her hand and she dodges him, ducking between graves faster than his mid-fifties joints can turn him.

There’s no one else here – it’s only you. And it’s a quiet enough place as it is, so – you let her laugh. Let him chase her, and let her sneakers light the place in pink. What else is there to do?

“Sorry it’s been a little while,” you tell your parents, eyes still on your man.

He’s kneeling now, Sarah on his thigh, in front of a tall, cross-shaped stone. They’re pointing at the words on the stone, her inquisitive eyes studying each one.

“I know I said I’d come visit for Dad’s birthday, but I guess things got busy – what with the move and all. We’re still living out of boxes. But the girls’ rooms are almost done – we just gotta paint ‘em.”

You look back down to the stone. Your mom’s name carved deep into spotted marble, your dad’s underneath. One awful date to tie them both together.

Dad probably heard Duck’s first squeal and turned away; gone back to whatever boring activity he might get up to in the afterlife. But your mom, you know for certain, is sat with her chin on the heel of her palm. Watching her mini-me trace the shapes of words, squirming when Joel presses his lips to her temple and whispers hints to her.

She’s probably smiling, making some comment about how big Sarah’s getting. How smart she is, how funny. How she must keep you and Joel on your toes – and goddamn, she’s right.

“Joel’s been working on the kitchen,” you continue. “I left my phone in the truck, but you should see it, Mom. He got these marble countertops, these little brushed-gold handles. He wrote our names on the wall before he tiled it, so whoever remodels after we’re gone will find that. The four of us.”

“M-meh-mem-orr-mem-or-ree?” Sarah tilts her head.

Joel nods. “Memory, yeah. Good job, Duck.”

“Duckie’s good,” you tell your mom. “She’s top of her class in – well, everything. Really wiping the floor with all the other first-graders. She’d have been your favorite – I know that much. And you’d have been hers.

“She’s gonna be some kind of lawyer, we think. Social justice and all that. She likes to be a woman of the people. Always talkin’ back to Joel – she hardly cuts him any slack, these days,” you laugh.

“He’s good, too – Joel. Working hard, as usual. Tommy and Maria visited last week – they brought Buckley, and now Duck won’t stop goin’ on about us getting a dog.”

You chance a glance over the stone, making sure the pair are out of earshot when you add, “Don’t tell her, but we called the pound last night. We’re heading there tomorrow while she’s at school to pick one out for her birthday. Joel’s giddier than I think Sarah’s gonna be.”

Joel’s carrying Duck now, wandering down a wobbly row of graves.

She halts him by pointing to one. “N-eh-v-eh-never…fff-or-g-for–”

He stares at her, a grin breaking across his lips. “Sound it out, that’s it. ‘s a big word, baby girl. You got it.”

The world seems to blur around them. The birds sing, a light melody from overhead. The green trees sway across the blue of the sky; the straight soar of cars on the highway. It all fades into the background, behind the two of them – wandering from shade into brilliant sun.

Your family. Your man, your blood – and everything in between. The little girl who brought it all together in the end – leading her dad by hand over knolls and broken stone, chasing butterflies, and asking what eh-teh-err-nal means.

“Means forever,” Joel says, kneeling beside her. “’s how long I’m gonna love you for.”

“And Nel?”

“And Nel.”

“And Mama?”

“And Mama.”

Sarah runs her hands through his beard, swaying side to side. “But me the most,” she concludes, nodding.

Joel hms, biting back a laugh. He lifts his chin, asks the little girl whether or not he’s going gray.

She has the same ridiculous laugh you do. The same snort you used to find so embarrassing, until you heard it come from her.

Just watching them stokes the already burning fire in your ribcage – the warmth flooding around your heart. He’s so good at it – being a dad.

Was he ever anything else, before he was a father? You can’t remember a time you didn’t wake up next to him, wrapped up in his arms, or with one of his kids burrowed between your bodies. It all feels so long ago, now.

He wanted to do everything. He’d lie with you between his legs, holding your half-sleeping form upright while you fed her. He’d race home after work specially to bathe her. He picked up any and every single duck-themed thing that he came across.

And what were you? Mom felt like such a fucking longshot. So out of your reach that you couldn’t understand the meaning of the word.

But there are days when she says it – Sarah, looking up at you with Joel’s twinkling eyes and a smirk which matches yours – and it’s like you’ve been waiting your whole life to hear it. Like you’ve been waiting your whole life for her.

Well. Her, and her little sister.

“And, uh – another thing,” you say, reaching for the plastic handle of a car seat. “I brought somebody for you to meet.”

A clumsy fist shoots up to shake a speckled dinosaur toy – the brown spheres of its eyes catching the sunlight. She squeals with delight when you unbuckle her, kicks her legs the same way her sister always did.

“She’s a little nervous, ain’t you, Nel?” you whisper, laughing at her gummy smile and tiny, socked feet. “She spit up on herself on the way here, but – I think you’re gonna love her.”

You perch the baby on your thigh, same as Joel did with Sarah, and she wraps her fingers around one of yours. You wiggle it – waving to your mom’s name, to the petals gently fluttering in the breeze.

“Mom,” you sniff, “this is Ellie.”

[jenscx]

[18] CALL ME BACK — right here

the sound of an engine revving catches your attention. your eyes move from wonyoung’s animated expression to the familiar black car, sakura’s face evident in the window.

she looks apologetic, but it flashes away once she sees who’s next to you. your throat automatically constricts, heat blooming at your cheeks when sakura struts to you, slamming the car door shut. you couldn’t help but find her anger attractive.

“baby,” she drawls out, “who’s this?” you can tell she’s acting. obviously sakura knows who jang wonyoung is.

“jang wonyoung, i’m yn’s close friend,” wonyoung introduces herself, but her smile is far from friendly. sakura grins back, her smirk akin to one of a predator. you twist your head to look at wonyoung again, her eyes flashing a glimpse of arrogance.

sakura’s hand slithers to embrace your waist. you nearly yelp at the sudden action. wonyoung’s eyes follow the movement, an eyebrow raising in question.

“you came pretty late,” wonyoung remarks cheekily, “did something, or someone, keep you from coming?” sakura’s jaw tightens, and so does the grip around your waist. you shriek.

“asshole!” you smack sakura’s shoulder, she knew you were ticklish there! your girlfriend merely chuckles, “sorry darling, but i just fell asleep. i didn’t hear my alarm going off.”

wonyoung hums. you turn to look at your friend, she’s been acting a little strangely. is it because of sakura?

“so, y/n,” wonyoung starts, a devilish smirk on her face, “wanna hang out on saturday? we left some things unsaid.” you furrow your brows, thinking of you had anything on saturday.

“uh, i think i’m fre—”

“baby, did you forget we have a date then?” sakura interrupts. you tilt your head curiously. since when did you arrange a date with sakura?

“huh?”

“aw, what about sunday? or are you spending both days together?” wonyoung pouts.

this time, sakura doesn’t retort.

“i think i’m free but i’ll get back to you?” you reply, but it comes out more like a question. being in the vicinity of both sakura and wonyoung confused you madly. not to mention, sakura was likely to leave bruises the way she gripped your waist.

at this point, sakura becomes restless and hugs you from the back.

“love, are you hungry? do you want to go get food?” she asks. your ears turn red at the nickname. sakura never called you ‘love’ before. it made butterflies swarm your stomach and your throat constrict with nervousness.

“uhh, ye-yeah… let’s go, kkura. see you tomorrow, or something, wonyoung,” you stutter, too focused on the way sakura caressed your waist and the attractive smirk plastered on her face.

wonyoung frowns, but covers it up quickly with a wave of her hand. you fumble in your steps to sakura’s car, her hand never leaving your side once. you think you might have saw her turn around to give wonyoung the finger, but maybe you were hallucinating. once you settle into the car, sakura turns on the radio.

“oh, baby,” she exclaims in glee, “this is the song we heard on our first date!” your ears perk up, it’s keshi.

“you remember that?” you ask.

“of course,” sakura rolls her eyes, turning the music louder. you giggle, stretching your hand out to encapsulate hers. your fingers intertwine as you hum to the melody. sakura spares you a few glances throughout the drive.

“i always thought you were really cute,” she says suddenly, “you came to the games but i never really talked to you, until that party.” you smile sheepishly at the thought of the party where you met sakura.

“that was so embarrassing, i almost puked on you,” you laugh. sakura shrugs, “it was cute, i had to hold your hair up and everything. like a meet-cute.”

you can’t help but feel warmth spreading all over you. sakura was so sweet. and such an amazing girlfriend.

“i’m sure i could have had a better first impression.. i probably looked terrible then.”

“oh baby, you already had all my attention the moment i saw you on those stands,” sakura laughs, “anything you did, i would just think you’re cute.” the song ends right at this moment. sakura continues humming while red flushes on your cheeks, spreading from your ears down to your neck.

why was sakura so smooth with her words? you both loved and hated it.

“stop being so cute, i’ll actually go crazy,” you mutter. sakura quirks an eyebrow up, “crazy for me?”

“yeah, crazy for you.”

“wouldn’t that be a dream for me?” you pout at your girlfriend, “stop making me so flustered, i’ll stop talking to you.”

sakura sighs dramatically, “i would die without your attention.” based on the way she acted previously, you wouldn’t be surprised if her words held some truth to them. the moment dies down and you’re back to comfortable silence. you enjoy car rides with sakura; you don’t have to keep talking to fill up the silence, you can just gaze at the ever changing scenery of the city. at its darkest, it is the prettiest. all the city lights flashing, shining at its brightest. it’s kind of ironic.

at a red light, sakura turns to you, “i’m really sorry for coming late. i didn’t mean to, and i just didn’t hear my alarm going off.”

you shrug, “it’s all good, kkura.”

“still, i’ll make it up to you,” sakura’s eyes glisten with sincerity. you melt at the puppy look and instantly lean in for a quick peck on the cheek.

“you look so cute right now. ugh, i hate how you always look so adorable without trying.” if not for the red light turning green, you would have taken both of her cheeks in your hands and started squishing her.

sakura giggles like a school girl. you almost feel like a teenager having a crush for the first time again.

“you’re always gorgeous without trying too.”

you wave her compliment off, “even when i’m crying with snot all over my face? remember when we watched move to heaven together? i wailed like a baby.”

your girlfriend snorts at the memory. your tear-stricken face along with rosy cheeks, paired with sniffles all throughout the episodes. “i still thought you were cute,” she remarks.

“sakura, i looked like i just crawled out of a sewer on most days,” you sigh. sakura falls silent. the only thing you hear is the running wheels of the car against the concrete streets.

“i beg to differ, but even at your worst,” sakura smiles, the city’s reflection in her eyes, “you’re still the only one in my heart. i’ll will be forever with you, right here.”

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[thoseboysinblue]

What Nobody Sees

Part 1

Christian Pulisic x reader

You have unexpectedly found yourself tangled up in a long-term situationship with Christian.

Word count: 4700+

Warnings: Swearing, smut (under 18 DNI)

Song Inspo: Sin So Sweet by Warren Zeiders

Requested: No

Author's note: The original concept for this is based on a dream I had. Once I heard the song, I knew it was an immediate fit. This will be a multi-part series. Thank you, as always to @neverinadream for helping me to flesh this out. Hope you enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated!

September 2023

Why does he always have to be one of the last ones to arrive? You think to yourself as you wait impatiently in your room trying to distract yourself with plans for tomorrow's training session.

Yesterday, you had busied yourself with greeting the other players as they arrived for the September training camp and upcoming international friendlies. Last night you ate dinner with a few of the guys, joining them for a few card games after dinner before trying to get some sleep.

Today seems to be dragging though as you are anticipating Christian's arrival. Even though you know the arrival schedule like the back of your hand, having studied it time and time again, you still find your self glancing between the schedule and your phone as the minutes tick by slower and slower.

A quiet knock at the door, pulls your attention away from your work. You immediately know who it is from the two quick knocks a short pause and two more knocks in succession.

You take a minute to shake yourself free of the smile that has spread on your face and collect your thoughts.

"You couldn't even greet me in the lobby like the rest of the staff," he drawls, pulling you into a hug and burying his face into your neck.

"You weren't supposed to be here for another hour, you could've told me you were getting in earlier," you say, pulling back from him to look him in the eyes.

"My flight got cancelled, so I booked a private, no one told you?" he grins, nudging your nose with his.

"No, no one told me, including you," you say with a bit of an eye roll.

"Maybe I wanted to see you for the first time since June in private, and not with everyone there watching," he smirks at you.

"Yeah, why's that?" you can't help but let the corners of your mouth draw upwards into a faint smile.

"So I could do this," he says, leaning in and closing the distance between your faces as he slides his hand around the back of your head and presses his lips to yours gently.

Butterflies immediately swarm in your stomach. This isn't like him, he's never affectionate like this with you, and he's breaking the unspoken rule the two of you seem to have regarding kissing.

Stop it. Stop it y/n. He just hasn't seen you in a while. He's just horny and this means nothing. It can't mean anything.

You break away from him naturally, both of you sharing a brief smile.

"Well I'm glad you finally made it," you say turning towards your bed as he follows behind you, "the other Italy boys got here yesterday but they said you had to go home first before coming to camp, everything ok?"

Small talk is easy between you and Christian. You were friends before you unexpectedly found yourselves falling into bed with one another every time he was at training camp with the US. Now here you were, this undefined situation you were in having carried on for just over a year. You were his training camp hook up, you assumed he had someone just like you waiting in Florida and probably in Milan by now as well.

You were a convenience, a way to fulfill his needs while he was busting his ass for the national team, and you weren't going to turn down the mind blowing sex you'd been having with him, so it worked out for you as well.

However, he never made you feel like you were just one of many, even though you figured you probably were. The thought of him sleeping with anyone else didn't bother you too much as you'd sworn you wouldn't catch feelings for him because they would definitely be unrequited. He couldn't see you like that. You were you, he was him, he was miles out of your league, except when he was on international duty. Then, for just that brief time, you could pretend a small part of him belonged to you.

"Everything's fine, my sister just wanted to have a belated 1st birthday party for Avery, and I guess an early birthday party for me," he says turning you to face him.

You reach for the hem of his shirt, assuming you know what he's here for until he grabs your wrist.

"That's not why I'm here, I just came by to say hi. I've got to go do some media stuff," he smiles softly at you.

"Already?" You question and he nods, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his hand grazing your jaw, sparking the butterflies again. Those damn butterflies. "Guess that's what happens when you're the star of the show," you chuckle at him.

"I'll text you later, you joining the team for dinner or do you want me to make an excuse to order room service?" he smiles.

"I was actually thinking I might eat in my room tonight," you shrug at him.

"Well then it's settled, we can eat together in my room," his offer catching you off guard.

"Don't you want to catch up with the guys?" you question him a little puzzled.

"I'd rather catch up with you," he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead.

"Don't do that," you sigh, resting your forehead against his chest.

"Don't do what?" he says settling his hands over your hips.

"The sweet stuff. You and I both know that's not what this is," you mumble against him.

"Ok" he huffs grabbing a handful of your ass.

"That's more like it," you giggle against him.

"I'll see you later," he says, turning and leaving the room, but not before giving you one final glance, his eyes wandering up and down your body, a body he'd gotten to know almost as well as his own over the past year.

Dieci: Meet me in my room in ten. Everyone is downstairs so you shouldn't have to worry about bumping into anyone 😉

Y/N: 👍🏻

Outside of camp, you and Christian rarely texted. You would occasionally like each other's social media posts, maybe reply to a story, but communication was pretty limited other than that.

You hated that seeing his name flash across your screen made your heart skip a beat lately, because he wasn't yours, not really, and you knew this little game would eventually end between the two of you.

Stepping off of the elevator, you glance quickly down the hallway, making sure you don't see anyone milling about, while a large part of the team knows about your little arrangement with Christian, the staff members do not, and you'd prefer to keep it that way.

You knock quietly on his door, your eyes nearly bulging out of your head when he opens the door wearing only a pair of shorts hanging low on his hips.

He notices the way you're looking at him and gives you a little smirk.

"Jesus Christ what are they feeding you in Italy," you drag your eyes shamelessly over his body reaching out to grab his bicep. "You must be hitting the gym hard over there, Christian, you're huge."

Obviously the physical attraction between the two of you is there or you wouldn't be in this situation, you know he loves it when you praise him in any way, so you never hold back on the compliments.

"Christian, you're huge," he mimics your words, "things I always love to hear," he says winking at you.

"I was referring to your arms," you chuckle.

"Mmmhmm, we will see about that in just a little bit," he says grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the bed, noticing the way your thighs clamped shut at his words, a slight blush painting your cheeks in anticipation. "But first, let's order some food," he says flopping down onto the bed and pulling you with him.

You decide what you want to eat and Christian calls and places the order for room service. "No dessert?" you arch an eyebrow at him.

"Nope. I plan on having dessert before dinner. Maybe twice," he chuckles, settling himself between your legs, his face hovering over yours. He runs his nose over the bridge of your nose, desperate to kiss you, but knowing that's not an option.

You turn your face away from him, fighting your own temptation to give in and kiss him the way you want to. Kissing means feelings, and you cannot allow yourself to fall for him, a move that would surely lead to your heart getting broken.

He resigns to trailing sloppy kisses along your neck, a faint moan escaping your lips when he grazes his teeth over your pulse soothing the sting with his tongue.

"I've missed...." he stops himself when your eyes snap to burn into his, your breath hitching in your throat as you are uncertain of what he's about to confess. "Hearing you moan," he finishes, losing the nerve to tell you he has missed you.

The truth is he has missed you, having not seen you since June. He had invited you to Florida while he was home, wanting a chance to spend time with you, away from the prying eyes of the rest of the team. He knew the fact that you had to work the July camp made it impossible but it still stung a bit when you declined his offer.

Everything aside, the two of you never had a conversation about what was going on between you, never made it clear that this was just a hook up and that neither of you were allowed to catch feelings. But he has no idea what you are thinking or where the two of you actually stand.

He slides his hands under your shirt and you sit up enough to allow him to pull it over your head making quick work of taking off your bra as well.

He dips his head to swirl his tongue around your right nipple, his thumb and forefinger rolling the left between them. He licks a stripe between your breasts before pulling your left nipple between his lips.

"Fuck, Christian, I've missed that mouth of yours," you breathe out feeling him smirk against you as he leaves a purple bruise just below your left breast before he kisses his way down your body.

"You've missed this mouth?" he says in a cocky tone tugging at the waistband of your shorts with his teeth, sliding his fingertips under it and waiting for you to lift your hips.

"Yes, I've missed your mouth, but not so much all the talking," you huff as you lift your hips, encouraging him to give you what you really want.

Christian doesn't know it, but you haven't slept with anyone else since you've been sleeping with him, and while you and your vibrator can get the job done, there is no replacement for what he can do to you.

He chuckles as he drags your shorts down your legs, taking your underwear with them, and settling himself between your legs, glancing up to see your eyes burning into his, silently pleading with him.

He presses a kiss to your lower abdomen, then trails his tongue down to your pubic bone, placing another kiss there.

"No, no, no," you whimper, knowing he's planning on teasing you before giving you what you actually want.

"What's the matter, you don't want me to go down on you?" he smirks against your inner thigh, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, I do, please, I don't want you to tease me, it's been nearly two months since I felt your mouth on me, Chris, please, and our food will be here soon, we don't have time," you beg him, knowing it probably won't make a difference, but he has enough power over you to reduce you into a begging mess in a matter of minutes and both of you know it.

"Darlin', you and I both know I can make you cum twice in under ten minutes, we've got plenty of time," he kisses along the inside of your other thigh.

"Your skin is so soft, baby" he nuzzles his face against you before using his tongue to tease your folds apart, carefully avoiding your clit.

"How about instead of teasing me, you see if you can make me cum twice in under 8 minutes," you breathe out, knowing he will have a hard time resisting a challenge.

"I know you say you don't like the teasing, but you actually do like it," he nips at the soft spot just to the side of your entrance pulling a quiet yelp from you, "you're already dripping for me," he barely dips his tongue into you, humming "so sweet," against you.

He glances over at the clock, "eight minutes you said?" You nod, staring him down, "bet you a coffee in the morning I can do it in seven," he winks at you as you buck your hips towards his face when he finally gives in and flicks his tongue over your clit.

"Thank fuck," you groan as your head falls back against the pillows as he chuckles against you before beginning to work you over expertly, more than a year of experience in memorizing your body and how you react to him giving him guidance.

He doesn't even bother with starting slowly, he knows it's not what you need, as he flattens his tongue against you before flicking and sucking at your clit. Glancing up your body he watches as you roll your nipples between your fingers helping yourself along.

"You're so fuckin' hot" he mumbles against you, but continues push you towards the edge. When he's certain you are close, he slides two fingers into you, enjoying the delicious way you clench around them instantly as you let out a gasp.

He curls his fingers against your g-spot pulsing them a couple of times before holding them still and pressing them against your sweet spot while he uses his tongue to bring your high crashing down over you.

He watches as you grip the sheets with one hand, the other moving to rest on top of his head as your back arches off of the bed and his name tumbles out of your mouth as part moan and part sigh.

"Baby, of all the ways I've heard my name fall from that pretty mouth of yours, that might be my favorite," he whispers against you, the softness in his voice sending the butterflies swarming.

You squirm against him when he starts moving his fingers again, not even giving you time to come down from your first orgasm before throttling you towards a second.

"Christian, I can't" you pant out, your head rolling against the pillows when you clamp your eyes shut.

"Y/N, open your eyes and look at me" he says softly, even as he continues his movements, "if you want me to stop, you need to use the safe word, but I know you've got another one for me, I can feel it. If it's too much, say the word, do you want me to stop?"

You shake your head, his voice reassuring you, as you regain your composure. "No, I don't want you to stop, I can handle it." You focus your eyes on his as he changes his position, pulling one leg over his forearm while he kneels on the bed between your legs, the new position causing your hips to tilt upward and his fingers to drive into you at the perfect angle.

"Good girl," he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, "my perfect good girl," he mumbles as you nod and clench tightly around his fingers.

He flicks his tongue over your nipple, before using his other hand to press down on your lower belly. "What the fuck," you babble somewhat incoherently, the added pressure making everything feel more intense.

When his thumb circles your clit you feel something that you've never felt before. Your body convulses and writhes beneath him you catch one more glimpse of him, an intent look of satisfaction on his face as he knows he's got you exactly where he wants you. Your vision goes dark as you try to get his attention, "Christian, Chris, Chris, baby," the franticness in your voice snapping his focus to your face.

But it's too late, your second orgasm hits you with a ferocity that neither of you were expecting, the intensity of two orgasms mere minutes apart causing you to squirt for the first time ever. It takes you a moment to come to your senses again and realize what just happened.

Christian is still kneeling between your legs as he gently lowers your leg and withdraws his fingers from you, taking in the scene in front of him as it slowly registers.

Suddenly embarrassed, your cheeks flush and you try to move to get out of the bed realizing you've soaked the sheets and him.

"Um, did you just..." Christian looks himself over, placing a hand on your leg to keep you from getting out of the bed, a little embarrassed himself to be asking that question when it's obvious what just happened.

You nod, unable to look at him or speak to him properly.

"Have you ever done that before?" he slides his hand along your jaw tilting your head up to look at him.

"No, never" you shake your head, "has that ever, um, have you ever," you close your eyes, frustrated that you can't get a fucking sentence out. "Have you ever done that to anyone else?" You sigh, opening your eyes to find him staring at you.

"No, that was a first for me, too," he grins proudly, "and don't be embarrassed, that was literally the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life."

You cover your face with your hands as a laugh escapes your lips, but he pulls your hands out of the way, his face now hovering a few inches from yours.

"And you called me baby, you've never called me that before," he smiles broadly at you.

"Surely, I have" you knit your eyebrows together.

"No, I'd definitely remember that, it's been Christian, Chris, an occasional Cap, Captain, or Pulisic, a slew of curse words, but never baby," he leans down, glancing between your eyes and lips, desperate to kiss you.

As you part your lips, almost allowing yourself to give in to him, a knock at the door interrupts you.

He closes his eyes and clenches his jaw, the look of frustration evident on his features.

"That's probably our dinner" he sighs, leaving a lingering kiss on your cheek and running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip sending a shiver up your spine.

You both get out of bed, Christian throwing the duvet over the mess you'd made while you grab your clothes. He meets you in the bathroom where you are getting dressed and cleans himself up a little before pulling a shirt over his head.

"Good luck with that," you chuckle, nodding towards the visible tent in his shorts as he blushes and attempts to rearrange himself before opening the door to his room.

You stay out of sight until you hear the person delivering your food leave, emerging from the bathroom to find Christian arranging your food onto the small table in his room, random sports highlights playing on the tv in the background.

He glances up and smiles at you as you make your way over to the table. "You ok?" he asks shyly as you nod.

"This looks nice," you smile at him, pouring each of you a glass of water.

You sit down and begin chatting while you eat, catching up on various things and sharing food back and forth when a clip comes on of his interview from earlier in the day spliced in with some of his recent AC Milan highlights.

His attention turns slightly towards the tv and you notice the flicker of a smile that dances on his lips at the praise he's receiving for his recent form. You nudge him with your knee get his attention, "it's been fun watching you enjoy club football again," you smile softly at him as he nods.

"So you've been watching?" he grins.

"I try to catch as many games as I can for everybody, helps me to know what you are looking like prior to getting here," you shrug.

"No other reason?" he narrows his eyes as you shake your head.

"So if several of us are playing in the same time slot, who are you going to watch?" he arches an eyebrow at you noticing the way you drop your gaze to your plate and blush slightly.

He taps his foot against yours, patiently waiting for an answer. When you glance back up at him and smile at him playfully, "Wes of course" you chuckle.

You let out a squeal as he launches himself at you, scooping you up and tossing you on the clean side of the bed. "We both know that's not true," he smiles down at you, "is it?"

"No, it's not," you breathe out as he grazes a kiss to the underside of your jaw.

"You like watching me play, don't you?" he questions you lowly.

"Yes, I've told you that. I think the way you play is creative and beautiful and I'm really glad I get to see it more regularly now," you speak honestly, "and watching you, it makes me horny," you whisper, threading your fingers into his hair.

He smiles against your neck leaving a trail of kisses there before he once again pulls your shirt over your head.

"So sexy," he mumbles against your chest kissing over the tops of your breasts as you take your bra off and toss it to the floor.

"Tell me," he glances up at you before flicking his tongue over your nipple, "what do you do when you're horny for me and I'm thousands of miles away?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," you chuckle. He sits up between your knees, pulling his shirt over his head, a cocky smile spreading over his lips as he notices the way your eyes drag over his body.

"I would actually," he bites his lip as he pulls your shorts and underwear down your legs, "do you think about me when you fuck yourself, y/n?"

The way you blush and look away from him gives him the answer he's craving.

He sheds himself of the remainder of his clothes, his cock springing free as he wraps his hand around it.

"I'll tell you a secret," he groans as you reach for him, wrapping your hand over the top of his, "I think about you, too" he leans down and whispers into your ear, nipping at your earlobe.

"I'm sure you're other girls won't appreciate that," you tilt your head back allowing him more access to your neck.

He continues trailing his tongue along your neck but his mind is going in a million different directions, the two of you have never discussed whether or not you're sleeping with anyone else, but now it's obvious to him that you think he has others, a twinge of jealousy washing over him at the thought of you having others as well.

You push against his chest and he turns to lay on his back, watching as you move to to straddle him, facing backwards. He grabs your wrist and shakes his head, "I want to see you," he says lowly, his eyes darkening, "I want to watch every inch of you while you take every inch of me."

You nod turning to face him, your hands resting on his chest as he lines himself up with your entrance. He grips onto your hip as you sink down on him.

"Baby," a strangled moan escapes his lips as he throws his head back against the pillows and closes his eyes momentarily.

You sit yourself more upright, enjoying the delightfully painful stretch you've missed since the last time you were with him.

"You good?" you ask as his hands skim along your sides coming up to brush his thumbs across your nipples.

He nods as you roll your hips and begin to slowly bounce over him, allowing both of you time to find a rhythm you enjoy.

You can't deny how much you love seeing him like this, hair disheveled, eyes wild, strings of profanities and praises tumbling from his mouth; the usual quiet and reserved side of him melted away.

"God, y/n, you're squeezing me so tight baby, you feel so fucking good," he squeezes into your hips and holds you steady while he thrusts up into you.

"Yes, Christian, just like that," you moan out, curling your fingertips into his chest. You lean forward slightly, flattening your hand against him, dangerously close to his neck as he bites his lower lip.

He makes eye contact with you, and lifts his chin encouraging you to do what he knows you are thinking about.

You've spent your fair share of nights coming undone with Christian's hands wrapped around your throat, but you've never thought about doing the same to him...until now.

You slide your hand around his throat, squeezing slightly as he smirks at you and you feel him twitch inside of you.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he groans and you can tell he's fighting to hold it off, not wanting to cum before you do.

His head thrashes against the pillows as you squeeze him tighter, your fingers digging into his neck when you lean down to whisper into his ear, "cum for me, baby."

"Shit, shit, shit," he moans as he shudders beneath you, gripping you as his high surges through him.

You slide your hand to his jaw as you collapse onto his chest.

"Fuck me," he sighs kissing the side of your head, "I'm a little scared by how fast that made me cum," he chuckles as you both work to regain your composure.

"Shit, you didn't finish did you?" he groans as you flop on the bed beside him and he turns to face you.

You shake your head, "but you got me off twice earlier, so going up 3-1 seems unfair," you grin at him.

You lean over and kiss him on the cheek, reassuring him that you're perfectly fine. He sighs wishing you'd properly kiss him.

You climb out of the bed and throw one more lingering glance at him before going into the bathroom to clean yourself up and get dressed.

After a few minutes, you head back into the room to find that he's dressed and cleaning up.

"I called downstairs, they are going to bring up some linens when they come to get the cart from dinner," he smiles at you.

You nod and help him place everything back onto the dinner cart before turning your attention to stripping the linens off of his bed, finding yourself getting a little lost in the domesticity of it all.

Once they've brought the clean linens, you help him remake the bed. He flops down on the bed and grabs your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours and giving them a squeeze.

"You're staying aren't you?" his eyes meet yours, pleading with you.

"What? No. I mean, I never stay. You never stay," you stammer, his request catching you a bit off guard.

"Oh, I just thought maybe after last time, you might," he drops his gaze and pulls his hand from yours. The action making your heart ache for him.

"Christian, I can't," you whisper, not quite able to get your voice to work.

He nods as you lean down and kiss him on the cheek, "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize," he offers you a weak smile, "I understand," he lies. Truthfully, he doesn't understand, he doesn't understand why you won't kiss him, why you won't stay with him, why after so long of being together in the way that you have been, you won't let him in.

You leave quietly and go back to your room, wishing you had it in you to go back and crawl into bed with him.

You take a shower, trying to clear your head and prepare yourself mentally for the days ahead.

When you climb into bed you notice a notification on your phone:

Dieci: I wish you would've stayed

@chilwellspulisic @neverinadream @masonspulisic @pulisicsgirl @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @nyctophilic0vitnir @lunamelona @tall-tanned-tattoo @lizzypotter14 @bracedes @xjval @notsoattractivearenti @bracedes

[chimcess]

Waterlog || pjm (3)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 12.2k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: toxic relationship (not reader and jimin), arguments, cheating (not reader and jimin), talks about previous child abuse, anxiety attack, strong language, crying, emotional abuse (not reader and jimin), talks of bad parental relationships, abandonment issues, some PTSD, prescription medication use, mentions of depression and mental health, lots of angst in this one, finally making some progress though, age insecurity, mutual pining, lots of side character development in this one, they really are so sweet together, jimin just being the nicest boy in the world, so much PDA, physical touch is his love language 👀👀👀, writing this is so comforting even when its angsty lol, i think that's it, let me know if I missed something A/N: Hello hello. Probably my favorite chapter to date. Bad news is that I think this series might be a little longer than originally intended. My inability to just get to the point has things moving a little slow, but I'm trying my best. We'll have to see, though! Hope you enjoy reading :)

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Time went by quickly. Wednesday and Friday morning, Jimin and I met up to train for a few hours and then got breakfast together. When he asked if I wanted to work out with him in the evenings, I agreed. In the beginning, I had given him pointers, but after the second week came to a close, we had started exercising in silence. We spotted one another, made small talk, and went to dinner on the nights he did not go home to be with his parents. We got along and I was happy my overwhelming attraction to him had slowly calmed down.

I was still aware of his presence, the way he smelled, and how often he smiled and laughed, but I had grown used to seeing him walking around in barely anything at all. Hoseok called me a cougar whenever we had time to chat while Andy kept telling me to talk with Jimin about how I felt, but I had gotten very good at deflecting. Things were better and I was taking my wins whenever I could get them. Even if those wins meant I went home sexually frustrated and aching for someone to make it better.

Jimin was packing up for the night and I was getting ready to head out. He had plans with a large group of his friends, so I would have to figure out dinner by myself this time. He invited me but I politely declined. I could vaguely recall how rude his friends from that restaurant had been, and that one girl's mean glare. I had no interest in repeating that.

Giselle waved at me on her way out which I returned with a smile. She was a very sweet, college girl and getting to know her was fun. Her brother moved out here six years ago and was the only reason she left Memphis. In-State tuition and a rent-free bedroom was all it took to convince her to spend some quality time with her big brother and his dog, Lucky.

She and Sam were the closest, but I would often see her eating lunch with Megan when he was with a client. Everyone was making bets on when they would eventually hook up, but I was convinced that had already happened and they were keeping it a secret from the nosy staff.

"See you tomorrow," Yoongi called out from across the room, seemingly appearing out of thin air.

He was out of eyesight before I could reply.

"Bye Yoon," Giselle sing-songed anyway, shoving her ear buds in and leaving before the door could close behind Yoongi. "Night guys!"

As the young woman said, Yoongi and Megan were the two most important people to befriend. Not just for massages either. The both of them were hilarious and kept the back fridge stocked with our favorite snacks. On the mornings I did not have time to eat breakfast, Megan stopped and got me a muffin and coffee from her favorite cafe. If I needed someone to help me out in the pool, Yoongi was always happy to offer himself for the job. It was challenging for me to focus on my swimming when Jimin was around, and I would often come in early to get a quick work out in before he got here.

“You okay getting home?” Jimin asked.

We had come together tonight, and he had offered to drive us in his truck. I had grown very fond of the green machine, which Jimin affectionately called Fiona, and I jumped at the chance to get in his passenger seat. We were usually riding around in my car since it was better on gas.

“Yeah, I’m riding with Sam.”

Sam and I had grown close as well. He was super funny and always down to hang out with me if I showed up by myself. On the odd Sunday I felt like getting out of the house, I found myself at the gym with Sam. I was currently attempting to teach him how to swim and always filled in for Yoongi on the weekends.

Jimin nodded, “Good. See you this weekend?”

I smiled, “Can’t miss your big party.”

Jimin’s 24th birthday was on the 13th and his family liked to go big. Eloise was clearing out an entire section in their restaurant for all of us, and I had found myself teamed up with Taehyung to help with the planning. Na-Yeon put everything in his hands since she was not feeling up to the task this year. I only agreed to help when I realized just how overboard the snowboarder would go if no one was there to reel him back in. So far, I had placed the responsibility of decorating, music, and organizing the gift table on my shoulders. James had pulled me aside and thanked me when he found out. Apparently, he was also worried about Taehyung’s enthusiasm. 

“It should be fun,” He nodded. “I’m going to head out.”

“See you tomorrow,” We had finally started coming 5 days a week. "We're working on your turns. Butterflies, too. Be prepared.”

He groaned, “You’re torturing me, coach.”

I laughed, “Is the baby upset?”

“Very,” He winked. My mouth went dry. Sometimes I felt silly for getting nervous around him, especially when I knew he flirted with everyone. I was not special. “See you Saturday.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled as I stared at his retreating back. “See you.”

Jimin’s birthday passed quietly. We had a great time and ate well. Taehyung got drunk enough to suggest karaoke once we cleared out the place for the night, and he and Na-yeon had all of us cracking up. I finally met Jungkook’s girlfriend, a pretty girl who did not talk very much, and I could feel the tension between the two of them. Jimin said that was just how they were and to ignore it.

After Jungkook successfully shoved Jimin's face into his cake, we opened presents. The boys got him tons of workout clothes and gear, Eloise bought him a new blender, and his parents both chipped in to get the new video game he had been talking about picking up.

I gifted him a bottle of his favorite cologne after Na-Yeon mentioned he was out. Jo Malone was the most distracting thing in my life right now, its scent clinging to the passenger side of my car most days and driving me insane if Jimin stood too close. Still, it was something I did not think I could part with now. Jimin was happy with the present and hugged me after opening it. I was positive I had this stupid grin on my face for the rest of the night.

By Halloween we were in the gym every day, save Sunday and the occasional Saturday when Jimin needed some time to rest. We both kept our word, our conversation at the restaurant we went to with Jungkook and Taehyung sticking better than I thought it would. Overtime he got more confident when asking for a break and I was a professional at picking up on his body language. We were a good team, and I was confident he would be in great shape for the Olympics.

It was mid-November now and Taehyung had finally gotten around to getting us together for the sushi date in Detroit. I had just gotten out of the shower when Jimin messaged he was going to come along. His mom had a rough Sunday and could not go to their usual dance class, so he had stayed with her instead. He looked worn out when he walked inside the pool room Monday morning so instead of training, I just sent him home. We were meeting back up on Wednesday to get back to work, but it seemed Jungkook’s nagging finally convinced him to come out with the rest of us.

My relationships with his friends had also started to improve. Taehyung had added me to their group chat a few weeks back and I had tried to keep up with them as often as I could remember to. It was not difficult. They text so often I had to silence notifications for the chat, but I had to admit they were really funny. Jungkook especially.

I was happy to spend time with everyone and getting out of the house sounded nice. Violet and Calvin were great, and I did enjoy eating dinner with them sometimes, but I would be lying if I said they would be my first choice to spend time with.

I had grown close enough with Taehyung during the partying planning that his bubbly, over the top personality had become more endearing than overwhelming. We had gone to lunch a few times together, his boldness only increasing with each meet up, and he could hold me hostage for hours if I let him. Milo was typically my saving grace, and Taehyung would leave with a wet kiss to my cheek and promises of the same time next week.

Tae: Y/N should pick you up

Jimin: Why???

Kookie: Your truck is ass

I chuckled and sent off a text of my own before going to my dresser to find something warm to wear. 

Me: I don’t mind driving

Me: Don’t hate on the truck. I like it.

My phone chimed a few times but I ignored it for now. I knew I wanted to wear a pair of dark, navy jeans. It was freezing outside so a long sleeve was a must, but I could get away with just two layers. My hands found a mustard-yellow turtleneck and I smiled. I could wear my brown boots with it. Happy with my outfit, I checked on the chat.

Jimin: U sure?

Tae: The truck is GREEN

Tae: Already a crime

Kookie: It can’t go over 60

Darcy: omg stop blowing my phone up 

Darcy: just ride with her dude

Jimin: Y/N?

I rolled my eyes. I hated when he did that. Jimin had the habit of double and triple checking in with someone. It was sweet but it also drove me insane. There was nothing more I disliked than repeating myself, especially if I already agreed to something. 

Me: I’ll pick you up in 30, k?

Jimin: Thanks

Darcy: Was that so hard?

I frowned. So, Darcy was in a bad mood then. Shouldn't take it out on Jimin, I thought. Even if she was having a bad day, something that seemed to be a reoccurring theme with her, it doesn't mean she can just talk to people like that. Fighting the urge to give into my annoyance and call her out, I tossed my phone on my bed and made myself finish getting ready.

Walking into the living room, I went on a hunt for the jacket I wanted to wear. It was the same color as my leather boots with sherpa trim. It would tie everything together and, I hoped, would keep Taehyung from complaining too much about the “offensive” color of my shirt. He had a hard time accepting anything in the yellow or green family. Finding it on the sofa, I nodded and left it be. I would grab it on my way out. 

It took me more time to get my hair figured out than anything, but once I gave up and did the same thing that I did every day, it worked itself. After that, I put on a little bit of makeup since I figured it would not take me very long. This was a casual outing with friends and the dim lights of the sushi place would give me some grace if things were not perfect. A nice base, simple eye look, and a layer of mascara already had me looking more awake than I had in months. After applying a layer of lip gloss and a misting of setting spray, I was out of the door, jacket keeping me warm, and purse tucked under my arm. 

I drove in silence, like I always did, and pulled onto the curb of Jimin’s house. Sending a text to the chat, I waited for him to come out. I was a few minutes later than I said I would be, but Jimin found a way to be late for everything, so I did not feel that bad about it. Taehyung and Milo were already on leaving Ann Arbor, and Jungkook and Darcy riding with them. They would only beat us there by fifteen minutes or so, but I hoped he would hurry up and come outside. Taehyung worked hard for those reservations.

My phone vibrated and I stared at the little device in my cup holder. It was weird how my anxiety fluctuated on a daily basis. Back home, I could talk on the phone and hold a conversation behind the wheel, but ever since I came to Michigan it felt like I had taken three massive steps back. Taking a few deep breaths, I told myself that I was safe. I was parked, completely stationary, and no one was around. No traffic meant no accidents. Sucking in a harsh breath, I picked it up.

Jimin: Be out in a sec

Jimin: Just making sure mom is okay

He had not left his mother’s house in days. I was worried about Na-Yeon, but I had to believe that Jimin would tell me if something was seriously wrong with her. I had truly started to feel connected with the woman. We joked over dinner and I found myself helping her out more and more each time I came by. It would devastate me if she passed away without me knowing how bad it had gotten. 

Me: Take your time

He came out only two minutes later. Wearing a heavy, black puffy jacket and tight pants, Jimin leisurely walked over and got into the car. His cologne hit me as soon as the door opened, and I bit my lip, trying to hide the deep inhale I took. Jo fucking Malone.

He smiled at me but otherwise kept quiet as I drove. He knew I had a difficult time behind the wheel and tried his best to keep conversation light. While I normally appreciated the sentiment, I did not want to make him sit in silence for 45 minutes. Opening and closing my mouth a few times, I struggled to come up with a good conversation topic.

We often bounced from idea to idea, mostly sticking to swimming and music, and I always found our little talks to be very insightful. Movies and tv shows had been fun to bond over, a small generational gap introducing us to shit we had never heard of before. There were so many things I could bring up, things that Jimin would jump at the idea to talk about. Still, I could not find my voice.

“So,” I started, awkwardly, trying to push past the blockade of anxiety. “Is this place as good as Tae says or is he going off on one of his rants again?”

Jimin chuckled softly. “It’s pretty good, but it’s still just sushi. Taehyung finds a way to make everything sound extravagant.”

We shared a quiet laugh. 

“It was nice of him to invite me,” My hands gripped the wheel tighter. We were starting to approach more populated areas. “He didn’t have to do that.”

Jimin snorted childishly, the sound relaxing me ever so slightly. If there was one thing I hated was driving at night. I was lucky the snow had stopped falling yesterday afternoon and the roads were clear, but a part of me wished I had asked Jimin to drive.

Traffic in Saline was lighter than any town back in Colorado, and driving around was a breeze in comparison. At home, you were lucky if there was only one accident a day, but more times than not I had been stuck on the interstate for hours because of multiple car crashes. Michigan felt less hectic; safer. Not safe enough to let my guard down, but safe enough to listen to Jimin when he spoke.

“Taehyung is just that kind of guy.”

I nodded; eyes glued to the road. I wanted to say something and keep our conversation flowing, but the more cars around us the more I tuned him out. My eyes flickered between my rearview mirror, side mirrors, and windshield rapidly as I drove. Once we were out of Saline and on I-94, I loosened my grip on the wheel. We would not hit much traffic until we were closer to Detroit.

Jimin stayed quiet and looked out the window. I wanted to thank him for being so understanding, but I knew he would not want me to. I kept my thoughts to myself and focused on the road. Jimin began to hum an unfamiliar tune.

My hands were shaking when we pulled up to the restaurant. Traffic had gotten pretty bad coming into the city, but we had picked a good day to come out. Jimin hummed and sang underneath his breath for most of the car ride, and we had a few small sporadic conversations when I felt the knots in my stomach loosen for a few brief moments.

"It's been forever since I've come here," Jimin said to himself, going to unbuckle his seat belt. "It looks pretty filled up."

Bash was a sushi place across from Wayne State University's football field and was one Taehyung’s favorite restaurants. He bragged about how delicious their food was for weeks before finally wearing me down with the promise of picking up the tab. He made reservations for their omakase, or “chef’s choice,” and promised I would get his obsession.

When I talked to Megan about it, she had said it was an expensive meal, so I was going to try and force myself to enjoy it regardless of my own personal feelings. Jimin seemed to like it here, and we usually enjoyed a lot of the same foods, so it made me feel a bit better about things.

I had to park down the street and spotted Taehyung’s Mazda a few cars away. Instead of getting out, I took a few moments to gather my composure. Jimin sat beside me patiently. He had grown used to my traffic anxiety. We had driven together so many times now, and he had gotten a taste of the worst of it a handful of times.

He had only asked about it the first time we rode to the gym together, completely frazzled and unsure of himself as I hyperventilated in the driver's seat. My hands trembled violently as my palms sweat profusely, and I let myself shed a few tears once we were parked. He reached out, placing a hand on my back, and quietly asked me what was bothering me.

“Red light,” I managed to wheeze out. They were doing some construction on the main road and things started piling up. I had gotten stuck in the intersection for just a few seconds, but it was long enough to send me into a blind panic. “Anxiety. Sorry. Need a minute.”

He helped me calm down, calming down to help me through my panic attack. We played a game of I-Spy, Jimin picking out the most obvious shit and saying the most random things to point out in order to make me laugh. When I felt a little better, he got out of the car to help me get out. After that he kept quiet about my obvious driving discomforts, but stuck close just in case I needed the support, and always offered to drive.

“Ready?” He asked when I grabbed my phone out of the cup holder.

“Yeah.”

We walked inside and the hostess made light conversation while she walked us to the back. Taehyung's laugh could be heard from the other side of the room, and his bright blue hair and vibrant eyeshadow stuck out like a sore thumb in this place. Milo was dressed in all black, his arm draped around his fiancé's shoulder, and a smile on his face. Jungkook was beside him scrolling through his phone, but Darcy was nowhere in sight. Glancing at Jimin, he seemed exasperated.

“Trouble in paradise,” He murmured, leaning down so I could hear him. I had to imagine their relationship was very exhausting and took its toll on their friend group. I knew how much it sucked being caught between Tilly and Hobi back in the day. “Here we fucking go.”

Taehyung jumped out of the booth when he caught sight of us, his fluffy, white cropped top riding up, revealing even more of his tanned skin. The snowboarder wrapped his arms around my waist and snuggled my hairline, showering me in compliments. Gold hoop earrings tapped my forehead, and his belly button ring was cold against my ribcage. He was happy to see me “dolled up” for once and forgave how ugly my shirt was since I looked “so cute.”

Milo gave me a slight wave, eyes never leaving Taehyung's bouncing body as he embraced Jimin, and Jungkook put his phone down to greet us. Darcy had gone to the bathroom and from the look on Milo’s face, Jimin’s was right about trouble in paradise. Whatever was going on, we were all about to fall witness. It made my stomach churn just thinking about it.

Our waitress brought a new pot of tea, asking us if we needed anything, before leaving with the promise of the first course coming out soon. Darcy almost slammed into the poor woman on her way back to our booth, her annoyed huff making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. When she sat down beside her boyfriend her entire body was rigged and face pulled together tightly. She did not spare us a glance as she sulked.

Darcy was a very beautiful girl and it made sense why Jungkook liked her so much. Tanned skin, green eyes, and black hair, the girl had one of those bodies most women would pay thousands of dollars for. Like Taehyung had said, she was a pleasant enough person, and we did not along well enough to hold a conversation, but there was no hiding the fact that Darcy was not a nice girl. In fact, I would venture to say she was very, very mean.

I saw it firsthand at Jimin’s birthday party. I had a moment where I felt myself panicking. Overwhelmed with all of the noise and people, I excused myself and called Andy to get my head back on straight. The women's restroom was tucked away in a small hallway and allowed me the space to shed a few tears. I was just starting to calm down, Andy's words of encouragement getting back to some sort of baseline, while I rubbed cold water on my neck. That was when I heard Jungkook on the other side of the door.

He was angry and when I told Andy I needed to go, I had every intention of going out there to talk to him, but another voice beat me to it. Darcy had been in a bad mood since she walked through the front door, her shitty attitude bringing down the party every time she opened her mouth. At first, I just brushed it off as an off night, something I could feel empathy towards, but then she opened her mouth and stopped those thoughts in their tracks.

The two of them were serial cheaters, and Jimin had alluded to that being their main issue when I asked about her attitude problem earlier that night. Eloise was the person who gave me the whole story and was not afraid to voice her dislike for the older girl. This was different from Milo, a guy who she clashed with due to their night and day personalities. Darcy had actively picked on and made fun of her growing up, and bullied her older sister while they were in school together.

Darcy, according to Eloise, started the back-and-forth cheating when they were in college. Instead of going their separate ways, something I doubt anyone would have blamed Jungkook for doing, he chose to get even. After fucking one of her sorority sisters, Jungkook made his way through the entire house within the span of three months. In retaliation, Darcy slept with a couple of guys from the NHL, something she still did to this day.

On the night of the party, she was still fuming over catching him with another woman a few days prior. Trapped in the bathroom and too afraid to let them know I could hear them; I suffered through five minutes of a couple’s quarrel I had no business being in the middle of. It was an eye opener for sure and made me avoid getting too close to either of them.

Darcy was very mean and spiteful, her words meant to cut him deeply with little care about how it would make him feel in the long run. She even brought up screwing one of his rivals to get back at him, something she had done on numerous occasions, and went as far as to compare the two men in bed. It helped to explain why Jungkook hated Jackson Wang so much.

Jungkook, despite how much I enjoyed him as an individual, was just as awful. He spent most of the argument defending his bad behavior by bringing up her own and took no accountability for his actions. He could have sex with all of Michigan and it would be justified because she cheated on him first. It was all very juvenile, and I tried my best to avoid them for the rest of the night.

“Bet they can’t go ten minutes without fighting,” Jimin mumbled in my ear.

I fought back a smile, leaning into his side. Physical touch was the swimmer’s love language and I had slowly grown accustomed to small touches here and there. So, it did not catch me off guard when his arm came around my shoulders, resting just above my head, hand gently brushing against my neck. The voice in my head often wished he would do it more often.

“She won’t start something before the food gets here,” I reasoned, stealing a look at the couple. Jungkook seemed fine, but from the look on Darcy’s face that might change soon. “I’ll say twenty.”

“What are we bargaining for?”

I laughed awkwardly, “Whatever you want.”

Taking a second to think, Jimin eyed the couple across the table. Taehyung and Milo were obviously extremely aware of the couple's awkward tension and tactfully ignored them, instead giggling about some inside joke. They were a very sweet pair. My weariness about Milo had dissipated over the last few weeks, but I could understand why he and Eloise could not get along.

Lou herself had admitted to being a bit of a stuck-up teenager back in the day, and Milo was the typical small-town stoner. They constantly butt heads when they were in high school, and just drifted apart with age. Taehyung and Jimin's friendship were the only reason they were in the same circle anymore, and the two just never spoke to avoid pressing buttons.

“I want to do something together,” Jimin finally said, I smiled, trying to ignore the snarky comments Darcy was making. The arguing was starting, and I felt my neck growing hot. Did they have to do this in public? “Get dinner or something.”

“We do that all the time,” I countered, half-heartedly paying attention to him.

“Denny’s doesn’t count," He mumbled.

The waitress finally came back with a large tray of sushi in her hand. That seemed to break up the argument momentarily, but Darcy did not seem pleased to be interrupted. Stuffing a large piece of ahi sashimi in my mouth, I sparked up a conversation with Taehyung to keep myself from having another meltdown. Beside him, Milo sent me a grateful look.

The rest of the table was silent, waiting for the fight to resume. Taehyung kept smiling painfully, but I could see the panic bubbling in his eyes, and for once I saw a small crack in his otherwise well-crafted facade. 

“I didn’t mean just getting food,” Jimin finally continued when we hit a lull, and it took me a few seconds to remember what he was talking about. “I meant… going out.”

I looked at him, eyebrow raised. His cheeks were puffed with scallops and I wished we were alone. This was not a conversation I wanted to have in front of the others, especially if he was insinuating what I thought he was. I did not want to jump to conclusions, but I was sure he was asking me out on a date. Even if it made me feel jittery thinking about it, I had a difficult time finding the voice to say yes. Saying no felt just as impossible, though, and I wished he would have picked a better time to bring this up. Whatever the hell this was.

“What are you asking me?” I whispered, taking another piece of fish off my plate, sneaking a look at Taehyung and Milo.

They were too wrapped up in one another to being listening in on us. I did not even bother checking in with the other two. I knew for a fact they did not care about anybody else but themselves.

“You know,” He replied.

Dating was not off the table, and I was more than happy to indulge myself, but I was worried about crossing this invisible line I had drawn. What would people say if they found out? A coach and her trainee, and even worse, the older woman and her much younger man. I could see the headlines now and it made my palms sticky. That would not be a good look for either one of us, and I did not want our personal relationship to affect Jimin’s career.

Putting my chopsticks down, I leaned away from him. “Can we talk about this later?”

He nodded, meeting my eyes, and I was relieved to see he was not upset. I had seen him angry a few times now, and he wore it on his sleeve with pride. Jimin was not afraid of his emotions, something I found extremely attractive, and it was nice that all I could see right now was understanding. Whatever happened he would hear me out, and I had to hope he would be understanding. I just had to be sure I did not fuck anything up.

Across the table the bickering had started again. Our waitress brought out the rest of our meal, sans desert, and seemed happy we were enjoying the food. She eyed Darcy wearily and left our table in a hurry. I felt horrible for the wait staff who had come to our table. They were all getting the nastiest looks from the dark haired beauty.

“Do we really have to do this now?” Jungkook sighed, running a hand through his hair roughly. His face was red and expression tight. “In front of my friends, dude? Are you serious?”

I cleared my throat, grabbed my tea and took a long sip before sinking into the booth and praying no one could see me. Jimin’s arm dropped, and he squeezed my shoulder in comfort. I let myself melt under his touch. It always felt nice when his hands were on me, his warmth burning hot like a furnace even in below freezing temperatures. Taehyung’s eyes were bulging out of his head now, his bottom lip trembling as he tried his best to keep the conversation between the four of us light. He had stopped trying to include the other two.

“You two seem close,” He gritted, fakeness coming from him that I had never encountered before. “Glad you were able to sort that out.”

I looked over at Jimin and saw his cheeks had gone pink. So, Taehyung knew something I didn’t. It would make sense for the childhood best friend to get the scoop before the chick he’s known for two months, I had definitely vented to my friends on more than one occasion, and my curiosity was peaked.

“I'm working on it,” Jimin replied, taking a big gulp of water. “Thanks, Tae," He breathed, rolling his eyes.

I stifled a laugh. He was so cute when he was embarrassed. I made a mental note to ask Tae to explain what he meant when we had a chance to get lunch. I had a feeling the snowboarder would be more than happy to divulge that little piece of information. 

“Talking about me to your friends?” I teased, trying my best to ignore the ever-growing argument across from me. The butterflies in my stomach were a helpful distraction. “Good things, I hope.”

He cracked a smile, face and neck flushed. “The best things.”

Such a flirt.

I bit my lip and looked away. Eating was a nice way to interrupt the electricity that was enveloping us, and I gorged myself on octopus and tuna. Whatever the hell these dishes were, I had to admit the sushi here was the best I had ever had. I would never doubt a recommendation from Taehyung again.

The conversation started flowing easily after that. Jungkook and Darcy were at a stalemate and were relatively quiet on their side of the booth. With the atmosphere lightening, Milo felt good enough to start telling us his latest work stories. He was a firefighter along with all three of his brothers. His father was promoted to chief about five years ago but was coming up to his retirement. The only one of his siblings to avoid the fireman fate was his baby sister, but had still managed to find a job at the station.

"You guys must be close," I laughed in disbelief.

“It’s the family business,” He joked. "Rosie is our new EMT."

Taehyung spoke excitedly about his upcoming competitions and was really hopeful he would win enough to qualify for the Olympics this year. Milo and Jimin both reassured him multiple times while I tried my best to keep up with everything he was talking about. I had very little knowledge of snowboarding, so I was having to constantly interrupt and ask for clarification. No one seemed to mind, and eventually Jungkook joined in to talk about his upcoming hockey games.

The Red Wings were having a good year, and he was proud of his team for working as hard as they did. As a goalie, he did not do a lot of skating, but his job was one of the hardest on the team. From what I knew after watching a few games on tv with Jimin's family, Jungkook was one of the best goalies in the NHL who was highly sought after. He had been offered millions to transfer to the New York Rangers, but out of loyalty he turned them down.

“I’ll take you to a few matches if you want,” Jimin offered. “Kook can get us tickets whenever.”

I smiled, “That sounds like fun.”

“Milo and I go all of the time so we can sit together,” Taehyung interjected, his shoulders relaxed for the first time since we got here.

Darcy was quiet and stayed on her phone. Jungkook was pretending she was not here, and it helped keep the arguing from starting again. I was not sure how long the truce would last, but I hoped they could hold it together long enough for us to finish eating.

“So Y/N,” Milo mused, taking a piece of fish from Taehyung’s plate. “Have you ever thought about competing again?”

I laughed nervously, “For a time, maybe. My injuries make it hard for me to swim the way I used to so I decided to keep it as a hobby.”

It was not a complete lie, but I knew I might be able to get back into competitions if I put in the time and effort. I hated the thought of being back in the spotlight, cameras shoved in my face, only to lose and give them more to talk about. I was still recovering from the trauma they inflicted on me after the accident. My leg injuries just gave me the perfect excuse to keep my distance.

He nodded, eyebrows knitted, “I didn’t know you had medical leave. What happened?”

Jimin tensed up beside me. 

“I was in a car accident,” I replied. Talking about what happened did not bother me as much as it used to, and Milo seemed genuinely interested in the answer. “I had to get a full knee replacement on my left side, and a full hip replacement. I should have lost my leg, but the doctor on staff recognized me and brought up my profession.”

Milo whistled, giving me a sympathetic look. “Leg? You could have died.”

“Well,” I breathed, finishing off my last piece of fish. “I pulled through though, so it wasn’t all bad.” I fiddled with my shirt, pretending to smooth it down as I played it cool. "Anyway, I have nerve damage in my leg that makes me get really horrible cramps and twitching if I overwork my muscles. It sucks but coaching is really fun, so I can't complain."

Blatantly lying wasn't something I did often, but I truly hated reliving the months of physical therapy. Unable to walk or talk, I was stuck in that hospital bed for weeks and then got sent home to watch my closest friends wait on me hand-and-foot. When I wasn’t in physical therapy, I was with my SLP. When I wasn’t with her then I was in bed, crying into my pillow, and wishing I had never woken up. It was an extremely dark time in my life, one filled with chronic pain and overwhelming depression, and talking about it made me emotional. 

“Anyway,” Taehyung sent his fiancé a pointed look. “Kookie’s next home game is in two weeks.”

Happy to be out of the spotlight, I began to talk with Jimin about changing our schedule around so we could attend the game. Taehyung was excited to get me some Red Wing merchandise, and Jungkook quickly began to boast about his prowess on the ice. Darcy scoffed beside him and I felt the group tense up.

“You’re so cocky, Ian,” She taunted, eyes glued to her phone. “I heard Avalanche was doing really well this season.”

I knew from the group chat that the Red Wings and the Colorado Avalanche had a long-standing rivalry. It had started all the way back in the mid-90’s and reached its peak in 2002. While the intensity had dissipated over the years, it had recently spiked up again due to Jungkook and Jackson Wang’s ongoing feud. The only reason Darcy would bring that up would be to piss her boyfriend off. 

“Hm,” Jungkook smirked, chuckling darkly. “Who told you that?”

I held my breath, already guessing where this was going. The tension from earlier was thicker than ever as we fell silent. Darcy put her phone on the table, flipped her hair over her shoulder, and looked Jungkook in the face as she replied.

“Jackson.”

It was dead silent for a few seconds. Then, without waiting for a response, Darcy kept digging the knife in and twisting. She called him ugly, said he sucked in bed, brought up all of the ways Jackson was better than he was, and went as far as to bring up his father's affair. Jungkook could not get a word in as her silky voice dropped lower and lower, words cutting deeper and deeper, and eyes growing brighter as she watched his expression fall. I learned something tonight. Darcy enjoyed hurting Jungkook.

"Why are you doing this, dude?" Jungkook's voice was thick with emotion. "You're acting like a fucking child. It's embarrassing."

“Holy shit,” Milo groaned as their voices got louder. “Are they being forreal right now?”

“Babe,” Taehyung scolded, the forced smile still plastered on his face. “Language.”

“You weren’t embarrassed when you fucked that girl” Darcy screamed and I felt my stomach twist uncomfortably. “Why should I feel bad about airing out my dirty laundry? Everyone here knows how much of a whore I am anyway, isn’t that right, Ian?”

“Keep your voice down,” Jungkook hissed, eyes glassy. “You’re causing a scene.”

Taehyung and Milo looked as mortified as I felt, both of them staring at Darcy in horror. The entire restaurant had gone silent. Eyes were glued to our table as they argued. She shouted about him getting his dick sucked in their bed, and Jungkook was just angry she was acting like this in public. It was Jimin’s birthday all over again only this time they knew people were watching and did not care. Taehyung’s smile was finally gone and replaced by trembling lips and fidgeting hands.

“Take that shit outside,” Jimin cut in, voice cold and hard. Darcy glared daggers in our direction. “You’re going to get us kicked out.”

Darcy opened her mouth to argue but was interrupted by the waitress coming back and demanding our party leave. Taehyung began to apologize profusely while Darcy stormed out of the restaurant, bumping into numerous people roughly without looking back. Jungkook was hot on her heels, breathing heavily, and eyes glossed over with unshed tears. She shouted that Jackson was outside and for Jungkook to go fuck himself. Jungkook didn’t reply but I knew he was not expecting the other man to be here. I sure the fuck wasn't.

An arm wrapped around my shoulders, “Hey, calm down. Breathe.”

I had not realized I had been holding my breath. Turning my head, I was taken aback by how close Jimin was. Our noses brushed together, his breath hot against my cheek, and I jerked away, heart racing. The butterflies were swarming now, and a shiver went down my spine. His arm dropped and I immediately missed its warmth. Flustered, I scooted out of the booth and kept my head hung low. I was so embarrassed, and I could hear Taehyung’s voice starting to wobble as he handed over some cash to the waitress for the trouble. No one was going home happy tonight. 

“I’m so fucking pissed off,” Jimin grunted, keeping in step with me. Milo was attempting to get a now hysterical Taehyung calmed as they followed behind us. “I don’t know why Tae invites the two of them anywhere.”

I shook my head, “It’s not his fault. She needs to get some self-control, though. That was so rude and uncalled for, and for what?"

“They both owe him a fucking apology,” He sighed harshly.

The guests of honor were already in a very heated screaming match when we finally made it outside. Whatever had been brewing inside had clearly reached its peak, and neither one of them was willing to back down. Jimin’s arm was back around my shoulders as he tried his best to shelter me from the strong winds that were kicking up. Looking at Darcy and Jungkook all I could see were my parents and it caused me great discomfort. Maybe I should try to call my dad again and make sure he was alright? He rarely answered but at least it would cut some of the edge off of my anxiety.

“Why are you acting like this?” Jungkook shouted, pulling at his hair. “What the fuck is wrong with you, dude?”

“You!” Darcy shrieked. “You! You! YOU! You’re the problem. This is all your fault!”

Jungkook called her a crazy bitch and Darcy slapped him across the face before stomping off. A sleek red convertible was waiting for her on the curb, a well-groomed man behind the steering wheel. He smiled and waved at Jungkook before speeding off, Darcy already attaching her lips to his neck and not sparing any of us a second glance.

“What the fuck!” Taehyung shouted, sobbing and clinging to Milo. 

I was surprised he was able to hold himself back for that long. He seemed hellbent on strangling Jungkook as soon as he was able. I stepped to the side watching a man I had never seen upset shove Jungkook backwards. Any resemblance of a smile was gone now, replaced with a snot-nosed, red eyed man with bared teeth. Jungkook stumbled, barely keeping his footing before shoving the other man back. Milo was quick to defend his fiancé, pushing Jungkook so hard he stumbled, fell on his ass, and cried out in pain. 

Jimin’s arm gripped me tighter as he stared at the scene unfold in silence. His clenched jaw, however, told me how angry he was. I briefly wondered what he would be doing if he was not so focused on keeping me warm.

“That was so fucked up,” Taehyung cried, wiping his face roughly. “I told you both to keep that shit at home or don’t come!”

“She started it! It’s not my fault-”

“Dude,” Milo shook his head, wrapping his arms around Taehyung. “It doesn’t fucking matter. That’s your girl.”

As the three of them argued, I tried to decipher the look on Jimin’s face. He was angry, that was very apparent, and I felt my own anger finally start to rise. He had been dealing with so much shit and on his first night out in ages this happens? It was unfair and ridiculous, my frustration over the entire situation making me want to go over and push Jungkook around, too. However, I knew that was not the way to handle this. Truth was, he was not the only person to blame for how badly the night had ended. Darcy was the main instigator.

“Are you okay?” I asked Jimin, stepping away from his tight embrace. His arm was still around my shoulders with no sign of moving. “I’m sorry everything got so shitty.”

He nodded, face softening when he looked at me. “Just worried about Taehyung. He was really excited about tonight.”

The yelling was finally starting to calm down and I was happy that they were talking things out. I did not think I could handle the screaming for any longer. I had been a bundle of nerves since I left my house, and my fingers trembled at my sides. I could hear my mother’s voice echoing in my head, though I was positive it was distorted after so many years. Sometimes when her and dad fought, she would find me hiding in my closet and pull me out, hands leaving my skin tender from the harsh grip she had on my arms, before telling me to clean up the broken dishes from off the floor.

“Come here you little shit!”

She hated me; hated being a mother. I could remember how much I wished she would hold me like the other kids' moms held them but was too afraid to ask. One time I drew a picture of her at school and she never even looked at it. Instead, she smoked her cigarettes at the dinner table and watched Law and Order. If I really thought about it, she threw the drawing away. It was too dirty. Just like I was too dirty.

Mom had germaphobia and considered me one of the dirtiest things she had ever seen. I was not allowed in their bedroom because of it. Dad went along with it like he did everything else. When he wasn’t drinking, he was sleeping or in the garage. I hoped he was doing okay. Danielle seemed to be just as controlling as mom had been.

“Where’d you go?”

I startled, whipping around to find Jimin staring at me. His expression was gentle and calm, and I was suddenly aware of the harsh chill nipping at my wet cheeks. I had not noticed I was starting to cry. Strange. It had been a long time since those memories had been brought up.

“Are you okay?” He asked, rubbing my arm. “You looked lost.”

I nodded, quickly reaching up to pat the tears away. It was a good thing my mascara was smudge proof or else I might look even more pathetic. I am 31 now and it felt stupid to cry over things so far in the past. Things I had not had to deal with in well over 20 years. Dr.Wolfe would disagree with me, but she wasn't here.

“Yeah,” I nodded, voice thick. “Just zoned out for a second. Eyes must have dried out.”

It was a bad lie, but a lie he accepted. Squeezing my arm one last time, he finally moved away to give me a bit of breathing room. That was another thing that I always appreciated about the guy. He never overstayed his welcome, even if he wanted to. Taking a second to compose myself, I mindlessly fixed my hair and adjusted my clothes. Nervous habit.

“I think everyone’s heading home for the night,” Jimin said, nodding his head toward the other three men. “They seem cool. You ready to leave?”

I shrugged, “If you are.”

He nodded and walked over to the ground. I gave myself another moment to gather my thoughts. The worst of it was over and I doubted those memories would make themselves known again. With the screaming over it would not take long for my head to get itself straightened out. I might ask Jimin to drive us back, though. I was exhausted, and frankly, I did not think we would be safe if I was behind the wheel. Nothing worse than an anxious driver.

Jungkook was ashamed of their behavior tonight, and when I joined the others, he was quick to throw a million apologies in my direction. I accepted them all easily but knew it would take me a few days to fully forgive him. Tonight was a lot. Hopefully I could speak with Taehyung privately and ask him not to invite the couple out with us. If I never had to see Darcy again it would make my stay that much easier.

“I think we’re going to go home,” Milo said once Jungkook walked away. He was planning on calling an Uber so Tae could have a bit of space. “My little flower is burned out for the night.”

I smiled sadly, “Are you sure? We can always try something else.”

Taehyung’s head snapped in my direction and I wanted to scoop him up in my arms. His face was puffy from crying and eyes still misty. He was quick to nod his head and reached out to take hold of my hands.

“You still want to hang out with me?” He whimpered.

I had only said it to cheer him up not thinking that he would actually go for the idea. I had never seen him so distraught before and Milo seemed convinced that he was over having fun. Stealing a look at the blonde, he gave me a grateful smile but otherwise kept a watchful eye on Taehyung.

“Of course I do,” I finally replied, squeezing his large hands. “Tonight wasn’t your fault.”

His lower lip started to wobble again and next thing I knew I was in a very tight, warm hug. Taehyung cried into the crook of my neck. He was worried I would not like him anymore because of the fight. I awkwardly hugged him back, hoping my calm reassurances would soothe him. We really needed to get from outside the front of this restaurant before they called the cops. 

“It’s alright,” I said, trying to gently remove his arms from my waist. “We’re still friends, I promise.”

After another minute of crying, Taehyung was back in Milo’s arms. His face was red, and his nose was running, but the sobs had stopped. Jimin placed a hand on my lower back and started to bounce a few ideas off of Milo. It was late, but from the sound of things, our get together was not over. I could not say for certain if this was a good thing or not, I did need to have that talk with Jimin. If we were out too late there was no way for me to promise I would not pass out in the car.

“Uh,” Jimin thought for a second. “If we’re still hungry there’s Pie Sci and Woodbridge is right down the street. There's also that park a few blocks away."

I shrugged, “Whatever’s the best?” Looking at Taehyung, I made sure that he was feeling well enough to hang out. “I won’t be upset if you want to go home. It was a rough night for all of us.”

He sniffled and nodded. “I’m just really tired.”

Jimin and I said our goodbyes and I promised the blue haired boy I would call him in the morning to set up another meet up. He called it a group date, something neither Jimin nor I disagreed with, but it did make me feel queasy. Depending on how our conversation goes, we may never spend time together outside of training. I felt like I was going to vomit.

“Let me drive?” Jimin murmured as we parted ways with the couple. 

I nodded, digging in my purse to find them. “Mind reader, I swear. Get out of my head, kid.”

He snickered, “Who says you weren’t in mine, granny”

The queasiness dissipated and I felt like I could breathe a little bit easier now. Being alone with Jimin had never felt this nerve wracking before, not even the first time we met, and it was hard to explain all of the thoughts and feelings going through my head. We were finally having the talk, but I had never imagined it going this way. Handing him the keys, I elbowed him in the ribs.

“Whoops,” I mocked. “You know me and my bad eyesight, kiddo.”

“Watch it,” He hissed, rubbing the spot. “Don’t want you breaking anything. You know you have frail bones.”

I laughed, “Don’t make me give you a knuckle sandwich, punk.”

Sliding into the passenger seat felt less daunting after the light hearted exchange. Still, my blood was pumping as Jimin clicked his seatbelt in place. I had no idea when the conversation would shift into murkier waters, but I needed to start thinking about what to say to him. 

Denying my feelings would only make things worse, and I did not think the younger man would believe me. In fact, he would be offended that I thought he was dumb enough to get bamboozled in the first place. Lying did not seem like the right call anyway. My feelings were not something to feel ashamed about, but they were very frightening. 

“When is later?”

I gasped, startled out of my thoughts. We had been driving for over ten minutes already. Time seemed to slip by when I was lost in my own head. Jimin apologized for scaring me but repeated the question once I reassured him that I was fine.

“Now,” I mumbled. “I guess later is now.”

Turning on the blinker, Jimin switched lanes smoothly. He was probably the best driver that I knew and always made sure to keep my little quirks in mind during our rides. He had even gotten used to leaving the radio off when I was around, something that I appreciated more than words could ever say. Recognizing that I was stalling, I cleared my throat and tried my best to get my jumbled thoughts across.

“As much as I would like to go on that date,” I started, voice weak, “I’m just a bit concerned with how that might affect our ability to work together.”

There we go, I thought to myself mentally patting myself on the back. That was not as hard as I thought it would be. Leaving out a few details would not hurt anybody, and it was the main cause of concern for me. My age was definitely up there, but I doubted Jimin would understand my perspective. To him I was just older, but to the rest of the world I was this cougar on the prowl for young men to help me relive my glory days. Even my own friends thought it was funny to make fun of the age gap.

“Is it only because of that?” Jimin pressed, his voice telling me that he was still reacting positively to whatever was coming out of my mouth. I was refusing to look at him, fearful that he would see through me. “Or is there something else bothering you?”

“W-w-well-” I stammered, “There is the media frenzy to think about. Sejin is already dealing with the press and your ‘out of character’ seclusion this season. Then there’s the age gap. I just-” I struggled to find the right words. Having let my insecurity slip out, I lost my flow and scrambled to get back on track. “Look, I haven’t done this whole dating thing in a really long time, and I don’t want that to get in the way of being a good coach. Ozzie put me in charge of you, and my reputation is on the line.”

I could hear my heart beating in my ears. Mouth dry and palms sweaty, I forced myself to look out of the window as I spoke. Anxiety had been something I dealt with for as long as I could remember, and it only got worse the older I got. My hands and fingers trembled in my lap as I tried to steady my breathing. 

In all of the dreams I had about Jimin, and there had been quite a few at this point, this moment had never felt so real and raw. We were always in these picture perfect pieces of heaven, sunshine beaming down on us, and the words I desperately wanted to say fell from my lips with ease. It was simple and sweet, and yet profound and beautiful. I could wax poetics and put myself thoughts together so eloquently he had no choice but to say yes to me. 

Reality was different. Here I was stumbling over my sentences and stuttering my way through words. Instead of taking his hand with mine, I was fidgeting with shaking fingers and desperately hoping he could not see just how uncomfortable I was. I knew he did. He always noticed. My heart was racing so fast I was afraid it would burst. Had he turned the heart up? It was boiling.

“I just want to know how you feel about me.”

“Hm?” I squeaked, unable to form any real words. My mouth was too dry. 

“I’ve thought about all of the same shit,” Jimin continued, voice as smooth and calming as ever. “I don’t care about any of that. All I want to know is how you feel about me.”

“You know,” I replied, wheezing. Talking felt impossible. “You know.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

Taking in a deep breath, I squeezed my eyes shut and began the mental countdown. My therapist taught me the technique years ago and I always found it to be helpful. I did this a few times until I felt calm enough to open my eyes. 

“Are you alright?” Jimin asked.

“Yeah,” I nodded, finally feeling my heart rate slowing. “A little anxious.”

“Don’t be,” He placed a hand on my knee. “It’s just me.”

And he was right. It was just Jimin and I in my car, but that was also the reason I felt so suffocated. There was nowhere to run or hide in here, and if things went south I was stuck with him for half an hour. Trying not to let those pessimistic thoughts send me back into a panic, I began to mentally point out things in my car.

Air freshener. It's green. It smells like pine and lemons. I want a new scent. Jimin likes to buy this coconut and mango one that smells like candy. I will buy one like his. I love the smell.

I let out a heavy breath. Everything was fine. He was not upset. He just wanted to know how I felt about him. Nothing more nothing less. My heart was settling, and my fingers were no longer shaking.

“I like you,” I choked out, placing my hand over his. “But you already knew that.”

He gently laughed, flipping his hand up to intertwine our fingers. 

“Yeah, you’re a terrible actress.”

I groaned, leaning my head against the window. As much as I tried kidding myself, there was absolutely no way he did not see the way I looked at him. I always knew when his flirting took on a more serious edge, like when he called me beautiful after seeing the scar on my leg for the first time, so it should not have been surprising that he picked up on a thing or two. Still, it did not make it any less embarrassing.

“How long have you known?” I asked, peeking at him through my lashes.

“I mean, I had a feeling when you first got to town, but I wasn’t completely sure until that first training day.”

He laughed at my embarrassed groan, holding my hand tighter. I knew I wasn't subtle enough. Poker face champion, my ass.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” He cooed. “You’ve been my dream girl since I was, like, 15.”

“That's not helping the age gap thing,” I tittered as I played with his fingers. Then, because I could not help myself. “Dream girl, huh?”

Picking up on the teasing tone in my voice, Jimin chortled. 

“Okay, big head. Calm down.”

“Big head?” I guffawed, pulling my hand out of his grasp. “Who are you calling big head, shortstop?”

“You, big head,” Taking back my hand, Jimin pinned it down and kept a tight grip. “No take backs.”

I always loved it when Jimin was in a good mood. He was so playful and full of energy, and all signs of those dark days were in the deepest parts of his mind. It was impossible to keep myself from playing along which only served to egg him on.

“You never said yes or no.”

“Yes or no to what?” I questioned. 

Jimin started rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb.

“To that date.”

Saying yes felt wrong, but saying no felt impossible. No matter what I said someone would be upset, and I had to decide who that would be: Jimin or America? I turned my own hand around this time and put my fingers through his. They fit together awkwardly, his hands just a bit too large, but I still found it perfect all the same.

“Do you have any ideas?”

His shiteating grin was contagious and a burst of butterflies began to flutter in my stomach. Hands clasped, Jimin started to list off all of the places we could go, but I was not fully listening. I had a date with this guy. I was going on a date with my trainee. 

“What do you think?”

I blinked rapidly, hoping he could not tell that I had zoned out. 

“You pick,” I breathed. “Surprise me.”

The rest of the drive back home was spent making small talk and discussing food preferences. Jimin was a dinner and a movie kind of guy, while I would rather do some sort of activity. What type of conversation could we have in a theater? Jimin seemed excited to plan out a fun night and I was just happy he was this into me. The feeling was most definitely mutual.

“Do you mind if I go to my house tonight? Mom needs some space and I know my dad is tired of having me breathing down their necks.”

I had yet to go over to his house. The days that we drove together were when he spent the evening with his parents. When Na-yeon and I talked about it, she was more upfront about her health situation than the men of the house. James spent most of his time taking care of his wife and their son enjoyed giving him a break every now and then. James would go on a fishing trip with his friends while Jimin stayed back to keep an eye on his mother. 

“Is it closer to town?” I asked, nibbling on my lower lip. 

I had yet to drive through downtown Ann Arbor. The Park house, and by proxy the Anderson’s, was a thirty minute drive from the bustling city. Nestled in the smaller town of Saline going towards Manchester, I had rarely had to leave the small town. This trip to Detroit was the farthest I had gone since arriving in Michigan, but I had a feeling the traffic in downtown Ann Arbor would be a bit much for me to drive through alone.

“Yeah,” I felt even more nervous by his nonchalant tone. “I used to live downtown, but I got tired of the noise. I bought my house in Eberwhite last summer, so there’s a little less foot traffic.”

“How’s the drive back to Saline?” Even I could hear the hesitation in my voice.

“Less than twenty,” Rubbing the back of my hand, his voice took on a sweeter tone. “We don’t have to. My truck’s at my parent’s place anyway.”

“Maybe some other time?” I forced myself to laugh, hoping to make the awkward tension leave. “Preferably when it’s not dark outside.”

I relaxed into my seat once I started seeing familiar landmarks. Saline was a very small town with a little over 2,000 residents, but downtown still had a way of attracting a relatively large crowd. Stoney Creek Brewery was packed and Jimin pointed out Sam’s car as we pass by. 

“Looks like he came out with Otis and Skye,” He murmured.

Otis was another personal trainer at the gym, and Skye was responsible for marketing. They had been going out for a while now and made plan to move to Ann Arbor once Otis graduated from school. He was getting his masters in movement science at the University of Michigan. They had planned on moving out there when he graduated last year, but neither of them could find a job that could pay their bills. Otis was hoping the master’s would give him a competitive edge while Skye saved up enough money to start her own advertising firm.

“Think Gigi is with them?” I wondered.

“Probably not. She’s busy studying for an exam. I saw that she requested time off tomorrow and the day after, so I don’t think she has the time to go out for drinks.”

Giselle was getting her bachelor’s in dental hygiene at UM, and everytime I spoke to her she was swamped with work. I had no idea she needed to request time off, though. Must be an intense program.

“Did you ever go to college?” I asked Jimin. 

He nodded, “I got my bachelor’s in psychology.”

Well, I had not been expecting that. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, but I never went back to get my master’s,” We turned onto the long road that led to his parent’s house. “I might after the Olympics.”

It was interesting to hear about his goals post-swimming. I never had those. My entire life was going to be swimming, and then, once I could no longer compete, I was opening my own swim school. After a couple of years of coaching under my belt, the plan was to start training professional athletes until I could join the Olympic coaching team. The accident was a very traumatic and eye-opening experience for me, so most of those plans ended up getting changed and modified over the years.

“What about you?” Jimin asked, pulling up to the curb.

“I went through an accelerated program at UCCS. Just graduated with my Masters in Athletic Training back in April.”

Neither one of us seemed to be ready to break the bubble we created. Even if we were just talking about school, it felt too intimate to leave. Holding hands in my car was new and I was worried if I opened the car door all of this would turn out to be a dream. The date, the confession; all of it. 

“I should get going,” Jimin sighed, still not moving his hand from mine. “It’s late and I have to drive home.”

I was the first one to move away. He was right. It was almost midnight and I had a really difficult time tonight. All of that yelling really took a toll on me. Jimin did not move until he heard the click of my seatbelt unfastening. 

“See you tomorrow?” He asked when I rounded the car. Getting out of the car, he held the door open as I slid inside. “I know we were out later than we thought we’d be.”

I nodded, “We can have a late morning. 8:30 instead of 6.”

“Sounds good. See you then.”

He closed my car door and jogged to his truck. It was parked in the driveway today. I pressed the button to roll my window down. 

“Drive safe!” I called out.

Looking over his shoulder, Jimin grinned and threw a hand up. I watched him climb into Fiona and tried to keep myself from worrying too much. It was so dark outside and he could be exhausted behind the wheel. Who knows what could happen to him.

He caught me staring and waved at me again. I returned it with a small smile. The truck stopped for a second and his phone was his hand. My cell phone vibrated in the cupholder.

Jimin: I’ll be okay

Jimin: Text you when I get home, k?

Looking back at the truck, I found him already looking at me. I nodded my response. He smiled at me again, waved, before finally backing out of the driveway. I did not move until I could no longer see his truck in my rearview. My phone buzzed one more time.

Jimin: At the stop sign on Woodland and Ann Arbor-Saline

Jimin: Go home. I’m here. I’m fine.

I hesitated texting him back when I knew he was driving, but decided that I would just have to trust he would not open it until it was safe.

Me: Get out of my head, kid

Finally putting my car in drive, I threw my phone back in its spot and made the ten minute drive down the road to the Anderson house. All of the lights were off when I pulled up and I was as quiet as a mouse walking to the backyard. 

I was beyond tired but still needed to get my nighttime routine done. Stripping out of my clothes, I turned on the shower and took off my makeup. Tonight wasn’t a wash night, so I was not in the shower for long. I heard my phone vibrating as I put on lotion and I quickly threw on a night shirt and went to my bedroom.

Jimin: Who says you aren’t in mine, meemaw

Jimin: I’m home now so you can get some sleep

Jimin: Night, geezer

I snorted. That was a new one. Crawling into bed, I got comfortable under my blankets and thought about a good comeback.

Me: Thank you

Me: Geezer? That’s such an geriatric thing to say, you whippersnapper

Jimin: LOL night 🫰🏼

Me: Night 🌜

I quick sent Taehyung a text to make sure he and Milo go home safely before putting my phone on the charger. Jungkook sent a text to our group chat an hour ago to let us know he was in his apartment back in Detroit. He was in Ann Arbor so often since Darcy lived out here, but he had bought a multi-million dollar home in Corktown when was first signed to the Red Wings in 2019. Milo was the one to reply to my text, signing his name at the bottom, since Taehyung passed out in the car on their way back home.

I took my medications and started up a game of solitaire while I waited for them to kick in. My psychologist had sent me to Michigan with a three month supply. I was planning my first trip back next week so I could see the boys in time for their first big competition of the season. While I was in town, I would pick up another three month supply. We were making the arrangements work as best as we could, and I was lucky I had a large group of people willing to support me during this transition.

Finally I felt the sleeping pills kicking in and I went to my white noise app. I hated falling asleep in silence and Emery had suggested the app while we were in a session. I paid for a yearly subscription and never regretted the fifty bucks. It had been a huge help in lulling me to bed.

Lights out and blankets wrapped snugly around my body, I closed my eyes and thought about everything that had happened. Jimin liked me back, asked me on a date, and told all of his friends about his infatuation with me before I even realized something else was going on. I was his dream girl. That put a lazy smile on my face. Then, I could no longer think about anything and was plunged into a dreamless sleep.

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

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[kiachiako]

carpe diem | l.hc

pairing |  gamer!haechan x female!reader

synopsis | You know you’re in trouble when your heart starts beating a little faster around Lee Haechan, professional flirt and someone any of your friends would advise against falling for. Then why are you standing in front of his door at the dead of night, lured by his offer of games, marijuana, and quality time with the man himself?

content | gamer!haechan, coder!reader, fluff, angst, language warning, drug usage, suggestive

wc | 5.1k

song | let’s get lost — g-eazy ft. devon baldwin

a/n | wish i could put into words how much i adore the vibe in this fic :(( hope you enjoy it just as much and leave any and all feedback at the end, i love reading your thoughts <3 ly

[h__chan06, 11:23PM] come over

You glance over at your phone as it lights up next to you, letting your eyes adjust to the darkness as your attention is stolen from the code on your monitors. With a snap of your gum and a knowing smile, you return back to the task at hand after scanning the chat notification that disappears just as quickly as it came.

It’s 11pm, and you know your night has only just started; as a compsci uni student by day and someone’s whose late hours are reserved by more… underground jobs, you’re used to the twilight that accompanies you as you work. Seoul’s neon city lights illuminate your apartment on their own as your fingers fly across the keyboard in your lap, lips pursed as your gaze races over each line of code in concentration.

You sigh when your clean slate of java is interrupted by a call pop-up that inconveniently takes up the entirety of your main screen. You’re about to click the red decline button when another text pops up, h__chan06’s < u better pick up > pressuring you into accepting.

“Y/N,” Haechan’s voice echoes throughout your room, filling the previous silence with his raspy tone. It sounds like he just woke up, and frankly, you think it’s the most attractive thing you’ve heard all week.

You hum softly in response.

“I’m bored,” he complains lowly, the sound of rubbing fabric transmitting over your speaker letting you know that he’s probably swathed in blankets in true Haechan fashion. “Want you to come game with me.”

You look up through your eyelashes at the digital blue light time on your wall, groaning when you remember that you have a 2am shift in a few hours at the 24-hour PC Bang that you completely forgot about.

“You know I can’t game for shit, Haechan.”

You hear him scoff at that, his mumbled, “says the literal game hacker,” making you giggle. You swivel around in your comfy desk chair, pushing your way to one of the glass walls of your apartment.

“It’s just,” you continue, staring out into the night cityscape, “I’ve got code due tomorrow for Prof Jung and I really wanna finish it before my part-time at the internet cafe.”

And you might be a little scared of spending alone time with the boy that makes your heart flutter a bit too much, but you would never admit that out loud.

“Please, Y/N,” the boy pleads with you. “Umm, I also just rolled if you want some.”

Your ears definitely perk up at that. Even though your assignment isn’t finished and it’s never the best idea to show up high to your job, you find yourself shrugging on a zip-up and grabbing your keys before you can even register your own actions.

Only a few hours can’t hurt, right?

…

Wrong.

It’s been five minutes of standing in front of Haechan’s apartment door — which just happens to reside in the same complex as yours — and you’re starting to think this is a bad idea.

Actually, this was a bad idea starting from the very first time you were introduced to Lee Haechan.

You still remember that day so clearly in your head; Mark had texted you and your friend group to meet up at his new apartment just days before sophomore year of uni started a year ago, his title as your best friend winning your free time over immediately as you headed a few floors down from your own home with Jaehyun and Karina. You were elated to be in the same building with Mark Lee, because that meant free rides to your classes in his classy Mustang and not having to jog a few blocks down the campus residences for weekly rom com reruns anymore.

However, what you had not expected to see was a brand new face as the three of you entered the spacious apartment, an unfamiliar boy’s laugh ringing throughout the foyer as if he had known your friends for an entire lifetime.

You were introduced to Lee Haechan a few moments later, his relaxed nature and confident smile drawing everyone to him immediately. The integration of his presence into your circle of friends was almost instantaneous.

It turned out that Haechan was Mark’s new roommate (and new competition for the title of his best friend, unfortunately), and somehow had every girl on campus hanging on to the sweet words that dripped out of his pretty mouth; it was just too easy to get hooked on his saccharin voice. He was truthfully too attractive for his own good with his sharp wit and dazzling smile, his model-like dimensions and the headphones/hoodie duo that drove female classmates to their graves with his gamer boyfriend appeal.

It was mostly wariness that kept you from growing close with Haechan, not really sure of what to think of him and his flirty tendencies although he had been nothing but friendly with you in the presence of your now shared friends.

One particular night after exams, the lot of you were over at their place to unwind after such a mentally demanding past few months. A few of the boys were busy trying to concoct something edible in the kitchen (it was most definitely not edible, as you had the “pleasure” of experiencing a few hours later), while Karina and Taeyong were hooked up in the most intense match of Mario Kart you had ever seen in your life.

“Shit,” Mark had mumbled, groaning as his eyes raked over the contents of their empty fridge. “Y/N,” you lifted your head to glance at him as you snuggled up against Karina’s side on the couch, skirt splayed on the cushions while watching the game intently. “I told Haechan to buy the soju today, but this fucker can’t even remember his own address,” he stared pointedly at said boy, Haechan’s innocent expression throwing you off guard, “so I’m not surprised that he forgot the drinks. Can you run to the convenience store down the street real quick and get some?”

You reluctantly got up from your comfy spot on the couch and made your way over to Mark, pulling his free hoodie over your form and tracing a frowny face on his fore-arm as your best friend pulled you into an apology hug.

“He’ll go with you and pay,” Mark nodded to Haechan, who shrugged and grabbed his card before holding the front door open for you with a wicked grin. “Play nice, Hyuck.”

You shuffled a few steps behind him as the two of you made your way out of the apartment complex and through the city night’s light drizzle, hair dampening when you neglected to pull up your hood.

You remember glancing up to him in surprise when Haechan suddenly turned around and tugged you forward by the sleeve, rivulets of raindrops tipping his lashes and glistening down his neck as he pulled you into a run with a wide smile.

“Let’s race.”

It had come as a surprise to you how easily you complied, eyes creased in elation as the rain poured down on your sprinting forms. The two of you weaved through umbrella clad people hurrying to escape the oncoming storm, a boy you barely knew leading you through shallow puddles and blinking crosswalks.

You were soaked by the time you got to the 24-hour convenience store, expressions painted with pure giddiness as you stepped into its artificial lights. The cashier had eyed the two of you with the greatest disdain, his gaze burning into the small spot of growing water pooling at the entrance under your figures.

Following Haechan into the alcohol aisle, you startled when a soft ding of your phone interrupted your euphoric haze. An immediate grimace graced your face.

“What is it? A new assignment?” He leaned closer to peer at your phone, warm breath reaching your cheek as his shoulder brushed against yours. Noticing the shaky inhale you had taken, he leaned back, amused. “I make you nervous, don’t I.”

You looked at him, incredulous.

“Never,” you answered, mentally kicking yourself at how unsure you sounded. The butterflies that you felt like vomiting gave yourself away nonetheless. “I don’t even know you.”

Haechan raised an eyebrow at you before dragging a chair out at the little window table in the corner of the store. Patting the seat across from him, he poured you a shot of soju and brushed a wet strand of hair out of your eyes.

“Then let me.”

You had sat there with Haechan for far too long that night, discovering every little thing he was willing to give up: from his area of study (“I’ll give you my old Python notes for Prof Cho’s lectures,” he had offered. “As your resident game development major and a survivor of the infamous Cho experience, I hereby grant you the right to all of my past cheat sheets and tests) to his unwavering loyalty to grape juice of all things (“You monster.” You had simply taken one sip of your apple drink before pausing with your lips hovering over the straw, feeling absolutely violated with the kicked puppy look he was giving you. “Apple over grape? Monster.)

The two of you had returned to Mark and Haechan’s flat hours later than you were supposed to, the former blaming his roommate for distracting you because he knew Haechan and his tendencies much better than anyone else did. Jaehyun had immediately swept you away in a game of Jenga (you thought it was a mystery why he enjoys a children’s game so much, but is it really?), so you were left with no other chance to speak with Haechan that night, even though he would shoot you a secret smile every chance he got.

It never escalated further.

School resumed like normal and suddenly everyone was busy again. Sure, you and Haechan were still friendly, but you hung out with the other guys much more than you did with him. A part of you was just so unsure about the type of guy he really was; you heard of his midnight escapades far too often to think that he was ever sincere in any interaction with a girl, nonetheless with you. It seemed like the boy that had run with you in the thundering rain and shared his stance on grape juice with passion was simply a figment of your imagination, a fleeting moment among thousands for him. You weren’t hurt nor surprised, already warned of his flowery words that you assumed were customized for each pretty girl that had the fatal luck of meeting Lee Haechan.

But he never made a true advance on you. Whenever your friend group got together, it was just meaningless flirting: the kind that caused your heart to flare up that you desperately pleaded with it to not react to someone like that. It was a sort of game almost, the type where you joked around with him when the time came, but never enough that you would be left with him for more than ten minutes. He still scolded Mark for making fun of you and offered you to smoke with him on more occasions than you’d like to admit, but that was it. A few weak moments in your judgment when you would give in to his offer for help on coding assignments and a free blunt.

As those memories play in your head, you bring your fingers up to your temples in frustration with yourself. You’re always careful with your heart, and you know that his words do affect you in a way they really shouldn't. You’ve been trying to avoid Haechan lately because you think the flirting might have actually gotten to your head. And yeah, you’re probably hyper aware of the scent of his cologne and the mere way he carries himself, but you’re determined to never fall in the traps of your own rapid heartbeat and warming cheeks.

“So then why am I here-” your mumbles stop when the door to the apartment you’ve been standing in front of swings open, the culprit leaning against its frame as his eyes flick over to you.

“Because you get swayed too easily, angel,” Haechan grins at you, his sweatpants and oversized hoodie hanging off his figure so well that you actually think it’s unfair. “And c’mon. We all know that you’ve just been dying to see me.”

You just gape at him before he laughs and tugs you inside, hand reaching up to squish your cheeks together.

“Don’t do that,” you pout after a few moments, pushing his hands away as you feel your face warm.

“I couldn’t resist, love,” he drawls, a Cheshire like smile overtaking his visage as he gestures for you to follow him into the living room. You take a seat on the floor with your back against the couch as you watch him move around, picking up two game controllers from the console before flicking the TV on and returning to sit next to you. The glittering lights of Seoul’s nightlife casts an eerie glow on Haechan’s side profile, all the sharp lines and curves of his face highlighted as you observe him.

Curious, you pick up one of the controllers and fiddle with it before shifting your body towards him.

“Why’d you text me though? You have so many other friends that probably game better than I do.”

Haechan doesn’t take his eyes off the screen as he replies to your valid inquiry, patting the space next to him so you’d move closer.

“You’re the only one that lives near here besides Mark, who decided that late-night practicing for his drivers license test is more important than playing games with me,” he jokes, shooting you a small grin before booting up the game home screen.

Oh.

Wait, no. That’s perfectly logical, you think to yourself.

…then why am I disappointed?

You hum in understanding before looking back up at the loading game.

“Want a hit?” the boy next to you offers, holding out a rolled joint between his index finger and thumb that wasn’t there before. You nod slowly and he takes the initiative to slot it between your lips, fingers grazing your chin in the slightest as he lights the end for you. You take a long pull, closing your eyes and sitting back as your insides fill with warmth with an exhale. Handing the joint back to him, he brings it to his lips and lets the smoke snake out his mouth before dissipating throughout the living room. “You needed that, hmm?”

Your glazed eyes tell him all he needs to know as he starts the video game on his TV, fingers busy setting up your characters and controls on the home screen. You watch his hands in a trance, not realizing that you’ve spaced out until he snaps his fingers in front of your face.

“Thinking about me already, angel,” he teases, hiding his hands behind his back. You hit him lightly and reach for the joint again.

“Shush, Haechan.” He simply blows a smoke ring towards your face in retaliation before reaching over to click a button on your own controller as your vision clears.

“Look here,” he instructs, positioning his fingers over yours so that he can guide you through each symbol and its uses. His cold skin leaves goosebumps as he leaves his palms resting against the back of your own hand. “This red one means shoot, and this one will allow you to pick up things. You press the back of the controller here,” Haechan maneuvers your fingers with his slowly as he talks, “to move forward. Makes sense?”

You nod with wide eyes, still shivering at the contact of his hands on yours. Haechan takes notice of the little bumps against your wrist as his pointer finger rubs against the back of yours.

“Aww, Y/N,” he coos, scrunching his nose at you, “you're nervous.” You protest and pull your hands away from his grasp, failing to come up with a coherent response. He chuckles under his breath at your attempt to escape him, instead grasping your arm and making you sit impossibly close to him so that you can feel the warmth radiating off his body.

With a dreamy look in his eyes and another long, hooded gaze in your direction, he takes another puff before grabbing his own controller. Silver bracelets clinking on his wrist, he shoots you a small smirk before starting the game with one click and settling forward so he can concentrate.

“I’m gonna lose so badly,” you grumble, watching the screen as the world spawns around your two avatars. Your character already seems like it’s suffering, taking hit after hit from the boy next to yours as she crumbles in ten seconds flat. “Kinda hate you right now, Haechan. And you too,” you squint at your girl’s name, “Widowmaker. What kind of person would call their character Widowmaker…” you add on with a mutter, frowning at her. You miss Haechan glancing at you with a small smile and a look of adoration in his eyes.

“I’m betting on it, angel,” he replies to your first words with a snicker after a few seconds, entirely shameless as he completely destroys whatever’s occurring on the TV. He sticks his tongue out to wet his lips as he immerses himself completely in the game. “You’re gonna give me something if I win, no?”

“I- what? When did I ever…?” you mutter with confusion as Haechan jumps to his knees with a shout. You watch with dread as blood splotches appear in your vision and the hearts that indicate your number of lives blink to a null gray, the girl that was supposed to help you win getting hit straight in the chest with her multitude of weapons and abnormally short crop top — you don’t know how her outfit was supposed to be of use, but you assumed that maybe Haechan’s character would have a moment of unclarity and propose or something.

“I won! And I even went easy on you, angel.”

And there it is in all its glory. A bright, green “You Win!” mocking you on his side of the screen while yours just flashes red as your character sinks to the ground in despair.

“Uh uh, Haechan,” you protest, turning towards him with your hands reaching for his controller. “We did not have a win-lose system set up and you know that I’m bad at this.” The said boy merely leans forward and taps his head with his finger pretending to think.

“I’ll give you my car for a week if you win,” he proposes, reaching for the controllers again. Your eyes widen.

“No fucking way,” you say, grinning as you lean forwards. “A month.”

“Two weeks, angel. Don’t push it.”

“A month.”

Haechan slumps against the couch, refusing to look at your pleading face and adorable expression.

“Fine,” he grumbles, defeated. “A month.”

“Yes!” you exclaim, shuffling in your spot with glee and crossing your legs to get ready for the next round. You are desperate for that car; having it would mean no more running to catch the train at 9pm after a botched lecture from your professors who seem to not know what a clock is. And, of course, midnight garlic bread runs without being scared shitless of what could be following you in the dark. “Need to focus…”

Haechan’s gaze zeros in on you, your tongue poking out of your tongue in concentration and your eyes enlarged with a newfound eagerness.

“Haa…” he breathes out, “cute.” You ignore your warming cheeks after hearing his words and nudge him to start the game, the soft look on his face catching you off guard to the point where you have to look away.

With a beeping countdown, another match of Overwatch starts and you’re left in the most concentrated state you’ve been since your last phase of, “I’m-going-to-get-all-perfect-marks-in-school-this-semester” (which isn’t actually saying much because you did not in fact get perfect marks that semester). With your gaze locked on your character and hands poised on your controller, you maneuver yourself carefully through the rotted terrain and hide from Haechan’s lingering avatar.

“I’m not letting you win,” you warn him with your most menacing tone, making your on-screen character do a 360 before shooting a warning shot into the far distance.

“Mm?” he hums, clicking rapidly on his own controller before turning to you, “you can’t win with me, angel.” You still at his words, scared to say something that will give away how truly nervous Haechan makes you. There’s something more in that sentence that you just can’t pinpoint.

After a moment of staring off into space, you regain consciousness and shake your head to clear your mind. “Focus…”

And that’s when you see it; Haechan’s avatar is crouched on top of a crumbling building at the corner of your vision, waiting for the perfect moment to shoot you down from above. He’s got his weapon aimed directly at you and the mere size of the thing scares you — and you’re not even the one being shot.

With dozens of quick solutions and methods running through your head to get out of your impending death, the worst possible thing you could do crosses your mind as you spy Haechan’s finger press down on the shoot button.

Just do it. You want to win? Just do it.

“Fuck it,” you whisper, pushing his controller out of his hands.

“Why would you-” he starts before stilling, the feeling of your fingers clutched around the fabric of his sweatshirt and being pulled in close to you shocking him into silence.

You let yourself lose all rational sense as you give him a tiny kiss, your body shuddering slightly at the simple feeling of his lips on yours. Only meaning to stall him for a few seconds, you reluctantly pull back and turn back to the screen to finish off the game. With one small click and a few splatters of blood on your display, you jump up with excitement as the “You Win!” finally appears for your victorious all-kill.

Before you can even turn to Haechan and taunt him with your victory, he twists his body so he can hover over you, pinning your wrists in one hand and bringing the other up to your face. You stare up at him with wide eyes with your noses just centimeters from each other, and you’re so close that you could connect your lips once again if you really wanted to. And you really want to.

Before you can fully process the position the two of you are in however, Haechan brushes his thumb against your cheekbone and switches his gaze between your eyes.

“You think you can just do that and not face the consequences? Hmm?” he whispers just next to your ear, his warmth breath reaching your neck as you shiver slightly under his touch. “Use your words.”

“The game?” you mumble dumbly, unable to pull anything coherent from your brain at the moment.

“I don’t care about the fucking game, Y/N,” Haechan replies, one of his hands smoothly moving up to hold the back of your neck. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment… you’re going to make it up to me, angel.”

With that, he fastens his lips to yours once again, letting out a small groan when he pulls you into his lap and presses your body into his. His kisses are deep and hard as he pulls you in by the waist and slips your zip up off your shoulders, the feeling of his tongue slipping into your mouth making your head dizzy.

The taste of marijuana and raspberry lingers in your mouth when he pulls away briefly to take a breath, soon after tilting his head so he can deepen the kiss even more. His little sounds go straight to your core, the moans he lets out increasing when you lean into him to slide your hands down the skin of his neck and shoulders. The way he moves is mesmerizing under your touch.

You throw your head back when one of his hands finds its way up to your throat, his fingers lightly wrapping around the base as you swallow in pleasure. He’s such a good kisser that you can feel yourself drown in his movements, delicate and sensual. His teeth nip little bites on your jawline, and you already know that the red blooming all over your skin will stay there for weeks with how much pressure he’s applying on your skin.

Making his way back to your mouth, he graces the flesh of your lips with his tongue before tugging gently. The little sound you make in reaction has him reeling, pulling away to put his forehead against yours.

“Want more?” Haechan inquires with his infamous smirk, nuzzling his nose against your skin as you sit straddling his lap.

Barely able to respond, you mumble, “more,” before chasing after his sweet kisses once again. You could do this all day.

“Ah ah,” he shushes you with his finger, letting the tip sneak between your lips just a smidge before wrapping his arms around you and hugging your body to his. “Didn’t mean to get you addicted, baby.” And with a sweet kiss on the corner of your mouth, he holds you in his warm embrace and rocks you back and forth, refusing to let you taste him. “Wanna keep you like this.”

You comply, relaxing as you sink into his lap in utmost comfort with your arms around his neck and face tucked in the crook of his neck.

You don’t even notice when your eyes start to flutter close, a sudden tiredness taking over your figure. You’ve always struggled with insomnia, but you fade into dreamland as soon as Haechan lays you down with him, hand rubbing soothing circles across your back.

Even you can’t deny it as much as your heart wants to; you feel at home in his embrace.

…

You wake up groggy to a blaring in your left ear, the piercing sound of your ringtone forcing you to consciousness. Rolling over to reach for your phone, you don’t even look at the caller ID before sliding the green accept button and holding the device against your ear.

You can’t get a single word out before a familiar voice blares out of the speaker, making you flinch away from the sound immediately.

“Sunshine! Did you finally get with Haechan?” Mark talks excitedly from the other side of the line, his hyper tone evident without seeing his expression.

“Good morning to you too- Wait, how did you know I was with Haechan last night?” you say incredulously, suddenly very awake. “How’d your permit test go anyway?” You hear Mark scoff at your question in response.

“Y/N. Did you think I really didn’t have my license already,” he says with exasperation. “Do you not exploit my driving skills every other day or am I going insane?”

“I mean kind of, yeah. With the way you drive…”

“Oh, fuck both of you,” Mark laughs out. “Haechan’s lies never make any sense.”

“Lies?” you mumble, confused. Why did Haechan lie to you about Mark anyway? You’re not sure where you lie in Haechan’s spectrum of feelings, but you hope your heart won’t get crushed with how hard you fell just a few hours ago.

Mark sighs audibly.

“Mm, he wanted the apartment empty yesterday and he’s talked about you since forever, Y/N-ie, really. Hope you know he’s very serious about getting to know you,” you gape at your phone at Mark’s confession, surprised. No way Lee Haechan, downright playboy and professional flirt is interested in you in the way you’ve been falling for him too — and suppressing it.

But with the way he cared for me last night, you think to yourself. He seemed so sincere.

“He’s stopped seeing other girls for a few months now,” Mark adds on, easing the worries he knows are running laps in your mind. “He’s so serious about you, Y/N, I can tell you that much.”

You let that information sink in as you sit back in your own bedsheets, hands rubbing your arms with the morning chill as you let the thought of Haechan and you marinate.

Just as your doubts begin to surface again, you hear a delicate knock on your apartment door before the door swings open and reveals a familiar boy standing in the hallway.

Haechan grins at you from behind a pile of fluffy winter blankets in his arms, taking your growing smile as an invitation to enter. He goes straight for your bed, settling into the warm spot next to you and letting his body snuggle into your side. Taking the fleece blankets, he wraps you in the fabric before placing a shy kiss on your temple, your cheeks blushing rose at his adoring actions.

“My angel.”

...

xoxo

2022 © kiachiako | all rights reserved.

[themoonchildwhofell]

all my ghosts

pairing: Farleigh Start x reader

content/warnings: fluff (im so sorry guys), pretty fast paced lol

summary: HC of a healthy farleigh x reader relationship (thank fucking god)

note: really wanted to write farleigh finding a nice partner that helps him with his trauma lol. possibly post saltburn. I'm so sorry my dudes. I really am a sucker for fluff! still based off of a Lizzy Mcalpine song.

"'Cause I hate all of my habits but I happen to love you."

Farleigh met you at a 7/11 near the place he works at. He's pretty bummed about not having to go to Oxford as well as fully disconnecting from the old life he had.

It was exactly July 11th. He remembered because you got a free slurpie at the convenient store.

You looked good for someone who was staying up due to an exam. You finally decided to claim that free slurpie they had since sugar wakes you up.

Farleigh, on the other hand, was just exploring the place. He didn't really want to stay at his mum's place. So he decided to get his own place.

He didn't really want to go out that night. It was a not-so-impulsive decision due to the fact that his case of cigarettes were all out.

The fluorescent lights weren't really giving you justice. As well as the bags under your eyes but who cares? You really need to pass this math exam tomorrow.

He approached you being the extrovert that he is and asked for your name and number. His excuse was to tour him around since it was his first time back at the States. (he was already living there for 3 weeks)

You agreed to tour him around. Praying that he wasn't a murderer of some sort.

You two went out the very next day to "tour" him around. At the end of the day, he did ask if this was a date.

"No. But maybe we can set a proper one?" you suggested.

He liked that. It means he gets to see you again.

Months pass and you both seem to connect really well.

The relationship progresses to you both being a couple.

Everything felt great. There was the usual fights, of course. I mean Farleigh is kind of a diva. You expected him to be annoying at times.

But most of the time, he's the loveliest.

It's the same with Farleigh as well. He loves your company. You make him feel good and sane. Especially after all the loss he experienced.

There are times that he feels like you're too good for him especially with all the baggage he has. All the trauma from Saltburn and his cousins passing.

These trauma did manifest some bad habits that he's actively fighting. But it helps him when he thinks that he might have a lot of ghosts with him haunting every piece of him left in Saltburn; He still has you.

Dates with him are always unpredictable. You both tried to do cocktails once at his apartment but failed. You both decided to just drink the wine and eat all the fruit.

You also tried cooking. Which was fun and messy. But the mac and cheese was good. He was really convinced that he could make a better mac and cheese than Gordon Ramsey. You giggled at how adorable he was and agreed. That night ended in a sink full of dirty dishes, slow dancing to Master & A Hound by Gregory Alan Isakov and tiny sweet kisses.

Sometimes, you both try clubbing. But end up going home early to just drink at home and watch some movie or have sex.

You both tried to finish two bottles of brandy one time.

"You really think you can beat me at drinking?" Farleigh smirked.

"Fuck! I'm 3 shots deep, my boy. And I feel sober." You we're not. You both didn't finish the bottles of brandy. And he had to carry you to bed.

"You know... I'm pretty drunk right now. But I really love you, Farleigh. You and all your ghosts." You passed out right after. He did say he loved you too. But he'll probably just repeat it once you both are sober. That was the first time you both said I love you.

You had the realization that you'd want to spend the rest of your life with him one Saturday morning. You both we're on the couch watching Bluey. You made him watch Bluey because at first he didn't want to since it's a kids show. But he saw the one episode with Chili and it really stuck with him.

He was laughing at a particular scene when he said. "I think we're like them. Chili and Bandit."

You stared at him. "Yeah. I guess so." It kinda dawned on you how compatible you both are. How you can live like this for the rest of your life.

He had the realization that he wanted to marry you the time you we're at his mom's home celebrating Christmas. You were helping with decorating the tree. He decided to quickly grab the star at the top of the cupboard in the hallway. While going back to the living room, he saw you sweaty, with your tongue out and concentrating on placing the lights on the tree. He realized he has never felt happier than that exact moment. He would love to spend every christmas decorating trees with you.

[lily-fics-11]

The Girl Next Door: Chapter 2 (Hazel Callahan, Bottoms)

Fic master post here (feel free to comment to be added to taglist)

The Girl Next Door

You hadn't been close with your neighbor Hazel for years. But you find her beat up in the locker room after fight club and all of that changes.

Chapter 2

Car rides with Hazel have you falling for her harder than ever. 

CW: mentions of blood and injury, mentions of violence, cursing, Taylor Swift references (I know not everyone is a fan so if people don't like it, I won't add anymore) *not beta read

You and Hazel walk to your car in silence. You get in the car and pass her the aux. “You still listen to Taylor Swift?” She asks shyly. 

“Of course I do!” You tell her with the biggest smile. She remembers your favorite singer. Does she remember all the times you would sing those songs together?

“What do you think about the new albums? And the re-recordings?” Hazel sounds excited to talk about Taylor Swift too, she remembers. 

“The 10 Minute Version of All Too Well has literally changed my life.”

“Should I put it on?”

“Absolutely!”

Before you know it you are on your way home, scream singing the 10 Minute Version of All Too Well, with Hazel. Since the song came out you’ve been listening to it over and over and thinking about her. There were so many lyrics that reminded you of your relationship with her. 

Her sweet disposition, and your wide eyed gaze. Being able to picture it after all these days. You might be okay but you’re not fine at all. How you got lost in translation. You had lost the one real thing you had ever known. It was rare, you were there, you remember it all to well.

But singing these lyrics with her, it was healing all those old wounds in a way you didn’t know was possible. You were stealing glances to see the smile on her face. Sometimes she would catch your gaze. As the words “ever lovely jewel” play she’s looking right at you.

Usually you were happy to live so close to the school. It was convenient. But with Hazel beside you it just wasn’t enough time. It’s hard to keep the smile on your face as you pull into your driveway, knowing that your time together is about to end. 

As soon as you are parked Hazel throws open the door, like she’s trying to run away. 

“Wait!” You yell at her, wondering why she’s so anxious the get out of your car. You do have to admit that this was a little overwhelming for you and it probably was for her too. She was the one that left you. She probably never wanted to be in this situation. 

She’s halfway out the door when she acknowledges you. She doesn’t say anything, just stares at you. 

You nervously clear your throat. 

“I just wanted to see if 8:00 was good for tomorrow morning…”

“Yeah. Yes. See you then.” Is all she has to say before she’s out and walking away from your car.

You were hurt for a moment but you started to watch her walk away and you realized that her wearing your sweatshirt meant that she was wearing your last name across her back. You just started giggling and then you punched your fist in the air and said “yes” when you thought about the smell of your perfume being stuck on her, even if it was only for a little while. You were never religious but you point up at the sky and say thank you. 

That night you spent about an hour curating the perfect outfit and set your alarm for an extra hour early so you would have time to perfect your makeup. 

When your alarm goes off the next morning you are immediately up and getting ready for the day, which is as stark contrast to your usual slamming of the snooze button. 

You usually just filled in your eyebrows and put on mascara for school but today you were going to be the first person Hazel saw and you wanted to stay on her mind all day. 

You start with your face. A little bronzer to warm up your face and a little blush to liven you up. Some highlighter on your cheekbones and the tip of your nose to catch light, and Hazel's attention. You also add a bit of highlighter to the inner corner of your eyes to draw her eyes right where you wanted it. You add a subtle wing to further accentuate your eyes and then do your usual mascara and brow routine. You finish off with your lips. You over-line them with a darker brown and fill them in with a nude lipstick to make them look as full as they can. You add a layer of lip gloss on top to make them look as inviting as possible. Not that you expect anything to come of this, but you can dream, right?

Your light wash ripped jeans are high waisted and perfectly hug the shape of your body. Your shirt is the perfect amount of low cut to highlight your assets and short enough to expose a tasteful amount of midriff. You put on your trusty pair of converse for good luck. 

You are in your car a few minutes early feeling a mixture of nerves and excitement. You sip on your coffee as you wait for Hazel. 

The clock hits 8:00, no Hazel. Not a problem though. You told her a few minutes early because you know she has a tendency to run late. That girl is nothing if not easily distracted.  

Hazel emerges from her house at 8:05 looking a little disheveled. She’s got hair sticking up out of place and she’s wearing… holy shit she is wearing your sweatshirt again!

Hazel plops down into your car. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be late. I was just thinking about… things, and lost track of time.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You tell her, and you can’t help yourself from pointing out “I see that you’re still wearing my sweatshirt.”

Her eyes widen, pupils dilating, and a bright red flush appears on her face. 

“I, um, fell asleep in it last night. And I didn’t have time to find another sweatshirt after getting dressed,” she tries excuse but you don’t need any justification. It takes everything in you not to giggle and kick your feet. Your sweatshirt. On Hazel all night. The smell of your perfume on her and now on her pillows and sheets. 

You just nod, “makes sense.”

“I didn’t even have time to make coffee,” she shakes her head in disappointment.

You are not really sure what caffeine would do to someone like Hazel but you still offer “you can have some of mine.” You didn’t think it was possible, but she is blushing even more.

“No, it’s totally fine. It’s my fault I don’t have any coffee. I’m the one that got distracted. You shouldn’t have to give up any of your coffee because I’m a mess.”

“I don’t usually finish it before it gets cold. So feel free to go for it.”

She doesn’t say anything.

“We used to share everything, right?” You remind her.

“We used to share everything.” She echos. 

She mumbles something under her breath that you can’t quite make out. But to your surprise she picks up the coffee and takes a sip. 

You bite down a smile when you see a bit of your lipstick on her mouth, it must have gotten left behind from when you were drinking it. 

“What?” She questions, seeing your failed attempt at holding back a smile.

“You’ve got a little something…” you motion to your mouth. 

She looks confused and opens the visor to look in the mirror. You expect her to be upset that your lipstick got on her but she just giggles. “Believe me, this color looks very good on you, but I think it looks even better on me.”

You can’t help but giggle too.

To your surprise she doesn’t bother to wipe the lipstick off, she just leaves it there. Leaving behind the indirect connection of your lips for anyone to see. Not your ideal way to leave your lipstick on her lips but you can’t complain either. 

Your sweatshirt. Your lipstick. You feel like you are going to pass out. 

You clear your throat, “we should probably get going…” Hazel nods in agreement. 

You turn on the car and put it in reverse. 

“Can I have the aux?” She asks.

“Go for it.” You pull out of the driveway. 

“I made us a playlist.” Your jaw drops and you accidentally slam on the breaks. 

You look at Hazel and Hazel looks at you in a panic. “I’m so sorry!” You tell her.

“It’s ok, it’s fine, it’s all good,” she tries to assure you but she is clearly fearing for her life. How stupid could you be? Hazel will never get in your car again after this!

You just stare at her for a minute trying to gauge where she’s at. She clears her throat. “You should probably drive now…” she suggests.

You just nod and start to drive, focusing on the road, afraid to make eye contact. 

“So, the playlist,” she says very hesitantly, “it’s all the Taylor Swift songs we haven’t gotten to listen to together.”

Your mouth drops open and you are speechless.

Her eyes widen, and she quickly tries remedy the situation “if you don’t want to listen to it we don’t have to!”

“No! That’s not it. I’m just surprised. That’s all.” You mumble, just clear enough for her to understand what you are saying. 

“I always used to make us playlists,” it’s her turn to remind you. The memory is a little bittersweet, tainted by the years of separation.  Music starts playing over the speaker. 

If there is one thing people should know about Hazel it’s that she’s a talker. She can talk about anything and everything for hours on end. But in the best way possible. She always puts a smile on the face of whoever she is talking to. It’s quite endearing. 

Hazel goes off on a tangent about fight club. After telling you the story of how she ended up in the state you found her in yesterday she pauses for a moment. 

“You could always come with me today, to fight club. We meet everyday after school.” She shyly offers.

“Hazel I don’t know if you remember the blood all over you yesterday, but I do. And you have a black eye.” You are thinking it but neglect to mention how the black eye and smear of your lipstick are making you feel a certain type of way. 

“Yes there are, side effects, but it’s worth it to learn how to defend yourself. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.” That last part comes out as more of a mumble that may not have been intended for you to hear. 

You start to take the offer into consideration. How far are you willing to go to spend more time with Hazel? You don’t want to seem desperate, doing something you clearly don’t want to do just for her. So you ask “Isabel and Brittany are in the club, right?” They are two of your very close friends. 

“Yeah, and a bunch of other girls. I promise that everyone is really nice. Everyone except PJ. No one is trying to hurt you. Everyone except PJ. But if you are worried about who you are going to have to fight, you can just pair up with me until you get comfortable. You know I would never do anything to hurt you.” A lump forms in your throat and you focus on the road, afraid that if you look at her you will burst into tears. If asked at the age of 13 you would have said that Hazel would never in a million years do anything to hurt you. You absolutely believe she would never physically harm you. But she didn’t just break your heart, she ripped it out of your chest and stomped on it. If anything you would have preferred for her to have punched you square in the face. That pain would have only been temporary. A million thoughts are swimming through your mind but you snap back into reality once you realize that you just parked your car. 

You thought the pain of losing Hazel was the worst thing you would ever feel. But now that you are thinking about it, missing out on the opportunity to get Hazel back would be astronomically worse. You remind yourself that you wouldn’t be getting Hazel in the way that you truly want her. But it was better than not having her at all. You turn towards her and she is looking at you expectantly. 

You let out a deep breath you don’t know you were holding in when you tell her: “fuck it, I’m in.” Her face lights up.

“It’s going to be great,” she assures you, “I promise.” She holds out her pinky and you feel butterflies in your stomach. You hook your pinky around hers and you both kiss your thumbs. The way you always used to.

[sofiareidings]

The Scenic Route

This story was based off of this photo:

Summary: You and your coworker finally admit your feelings for each other. But your first date doesn't really go as planned.

A/N: I'm not as obsessed with this stories as my others so I apologise if it isn't great. I really didn't have a lot of motivation today and my sister is back in the hospital aswell so we were really busy.

Song Suggestions: La Vie En Rose - Emily Watts

Word Count: 0.8k

The others on the team found it almost comical how oblivious the two of you had been. You both liked each other but didn’t know. Penelope and Emily had been telling you that he definitely liked you. When you didn’t listen Penelope went out of her way to show you the clues through a PowerPoint.

Derek and JJ had been doing the same thing to Spencer. When he finally believed them he spent two weeks planning how to ask you out. Exactly what he needed to do…and then it happened.

Everyone else had gone home from the office but you were finishing up on some paperwork. You were focused on your work and didn’t even notice that Spencer was still there. You kept an eye on him and after a while got the suspicion he didn’t have anything he was still doing but just waiting to talk to you. Everything that Penelope and Emily had been saying felt really likely now but you decided you wanted to see how this played out.

It had been twenty minutes since you finished working but you stayed there at your desk to see if he’d make the first move. You weren’t making it too obvious that you were done working, you had your computer turned on and you just scrolled through the internet mindlessly.

After another ten minutes you finally heard him speak up. “Y/N, are you busy or can we talk?” You smiled then nodded, of course you were free to talk. He got up and leaned onto the empty desk across from you. “So, I was wondering, if maybe you would want to uh…”

“Are you asking me out, Reid?” You cut him off because watching him trying to figure out how to ask you was like watching a puppy try to walk for the first time. He was a little shocked by what you said and you felt this excited feeling growing inside you realising that everyone was right. “Because if you are I would say yes Spence.”

Still a little bit in shock by your statement, this really did not go the way he had planned it to. He cleared his throat then tried to be less stunned while he talked. “You would? I mean, yes. I was hoping to ask you to dinner.” He smiled and stood up a little straighter. “I was thinking we could go out tomorrow? After work?”

“Yeah, I think I could make that work.” Shutting down your computer and starting to pack up. You broke out into a small laugh and finally picked up your jacket and keys. “Well, I should probably go home now. See you tomorrow.” Not sure how to say goodbye to someone you just admitted to liking, you started to reach out for a handshake then played it off as a wave.

Let’s just say that dinner the next day did not work.

You ended up having an emergency case and it just didn’t happen. Both of you should have expected it really.

The date got postponed for almost two weeks until it finally happened. The two of you decided on a small Chinese restaurant quite a bit away. Because of this, you also decided to take the train.

The restaurant was a cute little family owned business that was pretty much empty for the whole dinner. The both of you had a great time but even though you both knew how badly you wanted to just kiss each other neither of you had the guts to make a move. The waiter, a teen girl, was clearly trying to play cupid throughout dinner. There was this moment when it was time to get the bill and your hands touched, for maybe a second. You could feel the warmth of his hand and pulled away scared to make another move.

The train back was incredibly delayed and the train was packed. You found two seats right by the entrance to sit in but because of how full the train was you were practically shoulder to shoulder. Once the train started moving you felt Spencer move his arm away and you had a little bit of an internal panic for a second like maybe you did something wrong. That panic was shut down seconds later when you felt his hand laying behind you and hugging you close to him.

The arm around you was comforting and to tell him that without actually saying it you just leaned into him more. The train slowly started becoming less crowded but as each stop came you felt more and more tired.

The date might not have gone as you two had planned but the feeling this moment gave was better than what either of you could’ve expected.

Right before you started to fall asleep his hand disappeared for a second then came back and started running through your hair. You sunk deeper into his chest until you finally fell asleep, just comforted by him.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Nocturnal ballads [S. R.]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k

if you have never heard Etta James please do, her songs are beautiful. It is mentioned in this fic: At Last, All I Could Do Was Cry and Stormy Weather. Enjoy! <3

It was Sunday night, and the rainy air blew softly in the window of your shared apartment. You'd made coffee and drank your own cup while Spencer had barely touched his, which was somewhere among the notes, books, and case folders scattered across the expanse of his desk. For hours he intended to write a new article for a magazine that had requested it, but the task was getting more complicated than expected. With the passing of the months with him you had gotten used to him spending a lot of time studying in silence, reading, or just sitting on the couch too busy with his own thoughts, but this time it seemed to be something different. He didn't look comfortable with the task, the frown on his pretty face had never left him and the pen that was supposed to be used to write the words on his notebook was spent most of the time between his teeth.

It wasn't just a matter of that day, but lately he seemed to be more stressed than usual and a little more scattered. You didn't want to be invading his personal space or pressure him to talk to you because things had never worked out that way, however, that didn't free you from worrying about his condition.

When you finally got fed up with seeing him in that state you got up from your spot on the window sill and set your mug down on the bookshelf before cautiously approaching him. His hunched position on the chair was something that you had tried to get him to correct many times, nevertheless, it was almost natural for you to see him like this.

“Hey,” Spencer squealed, as he felt your arms wrap around his chest from behind, as if he'd barely remembered that you existed in the same space as him. Your head rested on his shoulder, giving him the perfect opportunity to kiss you on the cheek.

"Why don't you rest for a while, my love?" you asked kindly, close to his ear, as you turned your head to get a better look at him and moved your hands up and down his disheveled shirt. Spencer sighed at the warmth of your body against his and tilted his head back until it nestled against yours.

"I would like to, but I have to finish this today because I'm probably busy with a case tomorrow and I honestly feel like I haven't made any progress."

“It is because you are very tense. You won't be able to write anything if you're stressed” you assured him. You separated from him and your boyfriend complained about it, following you with his gaze towards the record player installed next to the bookcase.

The device was one of the objects that he brought from his own apartment and little by little you had helped him expand the collection that you jealously kept in the compartment under the furniture that you had bought. There was everything from old or classical music that he liked to some of the pop artists of the moment.

"What are you going to do?"

"You'll see" you smiled, squatting down to look for a particular record. When you got it out of his cover you placed it against the needle and manually fast-forwarded a couple of songs, not even noticing which one was playing "Come on, get up."

"What?"

"Get up" you repeated to your boyfriend, who had been carefully watching all your movements from his place "Let's dance"

"You're not talking seriously"

"Yes I do, very seriously," you said firmly, as you reached over to take his hand "Up"

"But I don't know how to do it!" he complained between laughs, while you maneuvered to get him out of the chair.

"I don't care, I just want you to dance with me" you insisted, pulling him towards you with a force that he didn't resist. Although he didn't seem very enthusiastic about the idea, he had never been able to deny you anything, so you dragged him to the center of the room and placed his hands on your waist, while you wrapped yours around his shoulders.

Spencer smiled and shook his head, incredulous that you'd take him out of his weekend chores to do that, and you started swaying back and forth to the music. You had placed the record At Last! From Etta James (one from Spencer's collection) and suddenly the title track filled the air.

At last

My love has come along…

“I love this song” he hummed, hearing the initial notes, closing his eyes with pleasure and a smile lighting up his face “Did you know that Etta won six Grammys in her career? Besides, she…”

“Spence” you cut it off right away. You hated doing it, but right now you didn't need that marvelous brain spouting facts about '60s blues “Don't think. Just relax"

Saying this, you took advantage of the position of your hands to caress the extension of his neck and shoulders, as if you wanted to remind him that he should release the accumulated tension in that area instead of getting more. You knew that asking him to stop thinking was like asking him to stop breathing, but for once he would have to try.

He wasn't offended by your request, but inhaled deeply and closed his eyes again to enjoy your hands walking over his body, thinking meanwhile that maybe you were right and his mind needed a well-deserved rest.

“That's it,” you praised softly, continuing your work and watching him relax as you rocked back and forth, “Just listen to the music, let yourself go…”

Little by little the man's body felt lighter and lighter, until it was enough to pull him a little towards you and he basically dropped all his weight on your body. His head had been hidden in the crook of your neck and his arms were now completely encircling you, as if he wanted to hold you as close as possible.

"You are a dream," he said, following the song, his voice drowned out by the series of soft kisses he began to leave on your bare skin.

It was obvious that he was tired and that little dance scene had only been the perfect excuse for him to finally allow himself to be aware of how physically the effort made during the day was hurting him.

“And you can call me your own,” you whispered with a smile, proud of your own witty follow-up to lyrics you'd only heard once or twice.

Your hand moved up to his head and as you began to caress his scalp you felt the man melt, if he could melt more, against you.

You guys didn't say anything for the rest of the song, but the romantic lyrics took care of conveying any sentiment. Spencer thought he could fall asleep right there, with the gentle rhythm of your bodies dancing as reason enough to lull him to sleep.

All I could do was cry, it didn't have particularly romantic lyrics, but being a slow song, you guys were able to keep rocking. Tenderly you pulled your man apart a bit and although his dismayed face made you feel guilty the laugh that replaced it when you gave him an exaggerated turn on his spot was enough to make you feel better. It was obvious that there was a considerable difference in height between you, so for said turn he had to crouch down a little, but when he recovered his normal position he pressed you against him, palms firmly planted on your lower back and now facing you.

"It's so sad"

"What, pretty?"

"The song," he whispered, a pout forming on his lips. Although you laughed, you agreed with him that it was indeed a very unfortunate ballad.

You guys danced throughout the tune and although Stormy Weather didn't represent a more positive outlook in terms of lyrics, this didn't stop you from staying in your perfect bubble of love.

Spencer was watching you from above with a completely entranced smile and you, from below, were looking at him with the most loving sparkle shining in your eyes. You loved him with everything he stood for and wished with all your might that you could do something to make him realize that he needed to take better care of himself and sometimes allow himself to steal these little moments from life to keep them in the heart.

"How do you feel now?" you suddenly asked. It was enough to see his face to realize the answer, but you wanted to hear it coming from him.

"I don't even remember what I was doing before this" he confessed to you, with a shy smile that made you smile too "I don't even know what I was doing before you. How was it that I could live so many years like this? Without the most perfect woman of all who came to rescue me from my own filth" 

"Oh, come on," you laughed, a blush already spreading across your cheeks at the compliment "It wasn't a big deal, sometimes it just takes a little attitude to lift the mood.”

"I love you like you can't imagine, have I ever told you before?" he continued, ignoring your attempts to look modest. "And I'm sorry I'm so bitter sometimes."

“You're not” you assured him, taking his face in your hands “Oh well, just a little bit. But nothing I can't tolerate” you teased, hearing his melodious laughter fill your ears.

You carefully stood on your toes so you could give him a gentle and warm kiss, which Spencer responded with all the joy in the world, while he held you better to avoid any effort. When you separated you stayed close, so much so that when you spoke you did it exhaling on his lips.

“Oh, and by the way…”

"Yeah, honey?"

"I love you too" you clarified with a smile. And then you melted into another kiss.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14

[ayech]

Home Is Wherever I’m With You

Summary: After their prison escape, the Russia crew spends the night at an inn that Dmitri’s cousin owns. You and Dmitri share a room, and a shower.

Warnings/disclaimers: Language, brief mentions of violence, graphic smut, reader is female

Word count: 4.8k

A/N: I tried to incorporate some Russian in this fic because it’s hot. That being said, if my Russian is off the mark I apologize, I only just started learning it on Duolingo and this owl won’t stop harassing me. Also for the convenience of this fic, we are going to pretend that Dmitri doesn’t have a family LMFAO. Please enjoy my totally self-indulgent shower sex fic.

                                          \\\

The snow falling just beyond the window was gentle but incessant, and you absently wondered to yourself if it ever stopped snowing in Russia. Your forehead settled against the glass as you stared outside, letting out a relieved sigh as the cold press soothed your battered and bruised skin.

It had been a long couple of days to say the least. Everyone knew breaking Hopper out of prison was going to be a tall order, but nothing could have prepared you for hijacking and crashing a plane, numerous violent encounters with Russian soldiers, another demogorgon (how do those things even keep coming back?), multiple nights desperately trying to stay alive in the bleak, unforgiving wilderness–

“You can shower first, if you’d like.”

Oh. And him. You were the least prepared for that.

You winced when you turned your head a little too fast for your aching muscles, smiling appreciatively at the man who was also holding out a change of clothes.

“Ah, what do you Americans call them again? Pizhamas?” Dmitri frowned at the way his accent mangled the word, but you only giggled and reached for the neatly folded garments, not missing the way his fingers grazed yours in the exchange. “My cousin had some extras in storage.”

Dmitri’s cousin ran a small, secluded inn that was nestled deep in the Russian wilderness. At first, having to help another fugitive seemed like it would be the group’s downfall, but if you all hadn’t taken Dmitri in you probably would have never made it out of the cold. Conveniently, the inn was hidden enough to buy some time and hatch up a plan on how to get back to the States. Although, his cousin’s single stipulation was that you all couldn’t stay for more than one night, to avoid any conflict with the soldiers that were no doubt searching for your group. It was a constricted window, but beggars can’t be choosers.

All planning was put aside for tomorrow, however. Hopper’s orders.

—

“Tonight, we rest,” Hopper wrapped an arm around Joyce’s shoulders and pulled her closer to him, waving everyone else off with his free hand. “We aren’t going to come up with any solid plans when we’re this tired. We’ll sort it all out in the morning.”

“Yeah, besides,” Murray also took the opportunity to wrap an arm around Dmitri’s shoulders. “Our comrade here spoke to his cousin and said we could stay as long as we need tomorrow, just as long as we’re out by nightfall.”

You smirked when Dmitri scoffed and shrugged his arm off. “We shouldn’t push our luck though, Americans. I say we leave by the afternoon.”

“Like I said, we’ll figure it out tomorrow,” Hopper sighed. “ And Murray, stop picking on him. Remember you have to share a room tonight, so don’t get on his bad side.”

Murray’s face fell immediately. “Not happening. I sleep alone.”

“Oh, really?” you snorted. “But I thought he was your comrade?”

You couldn’t help feeling slightly smug when everyone laughed at your jab, and you tried not to falter when Dmitri gave you a particularly fond smile. Murray smiled at you as well, though it lacked amusement.

“I don’t sleep with my comrades. But I know someone who wants to,” he sing-songed and narrowed his eyes knowingly at you. Your heart plummeted at the insinuation.

“Yeah, whatever,” you quickly tried to play it off before he took it too far, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “I don’t mind sharing a room.”

Hopper rolled his eyes and shrugged in exasperation, backing away with Joyce to head to their own room.

“Well, Enzo, at least you get some peace and quiet not having to share a room with Murray,” Joyce soothed, patting his shoulder sweetly before leaving with Hopper.

“We’ll see about that,” Murray mumbled right in your earshot, smirking deviously when you turned to glare at him. You noticed Dmitri watching the two of you with a confused look, and waited until he turned around before flipping Murray the bird, silently seething at his giddy laughter as you followed the Russian to your shared room.

—

A surge of annoyance came over you thinking back on what happened earlier, and you scoffed to yourself as you fiddled with the shower faucet. What had really infuriated you about Murray’s taunting was how right he was. He really had a knack for calling out sexual tension when he saw it.

You were pretty much attracted to Dmitri the second you met him. Well, after you had haphazardly swung a crowbar at him in an attempt at self-defense (no one had told you he was one of the good guys yet). Hopper eventually pried the weapon from your hands, and when Dmitri was backed up against a wall, eyes wide and bewildered at your frantic display, you couldn’t help but find him endearing.

What really did a number on you were the days spent navigating the woods. Dmitri, despite Murray’s constant heckling, was incredibly reliable. Calm, collected, and intuitive, you found yourself gravitating towards him constantly. Perhaps part of his allure was that he was born to the land, making him better equipped to navigate it and easier to rely on. But when the sound of Russian officials echoed through the air, and Dmitri held you flush against his body while you two were tucked away behind a tree, you were made painfully aware that you weren’t just drawn to him because he knew how to lead.

“Stay quiet,” he husked into your ear, his breath tickling the sensitive skin and blowing strands of hair against your cheek. You could feel his heart beating rapidly against your back, and prayed he couldn’t feel your blush under the hand covering your mouth. “I’ve got you, куколка.”

And at dusk, when he was on watch and keen blue eyes peered across the fire to look over you as you slept, you couldn’t deny the stir of something more. Something heady.

Now you were finally alone with him–regrettably, thanks to Murray–and you had absolutely no idea what to do about it. Your body was tired, your muscles sore and eyes aching for sleep, and yet you were still restless.

You desperately needed a hot shower to wash away the grime and messy emotions.

You fiddled with the faucet some more, frowning and looking up at the shower head when the stream still didn’t come out. Of course, that happened to be the exact moment the water finally decided to kick on. You sputtered and wiped your eyes with the back of your arm, reaching towards the counter for a towel and only finding the clothes Dmitri handed you earlier. Shit.

You wiped your face as best you could with just your arm, slowly opening the bathroom door and peering into the room to see Dmitri sitting on the edge of one of the beds, sleeve rolled up as he cleaned a wound on his bicep.

“Hey,” you called softly, his head quickly turning at the sound of your voice.

“Is everything okay?” he questioned, and you were taken aback when he stood to attention and dropped the wet cloth he was cleaning his cut with, his face painted with concern.

His furrowed brow deepened when you started laughing, and you almost felt bad when he frowned in confusion. He was so cute.

“Dmitri, I just need a towel,” you said between laughs, pointing to the small stack on the dresser. He cleared his throat then, lowering his head and muttering a brief ‘da’ before retrieving one and walking it over to you.

You were still smiling in amusement as he approached you. “What exactly did you think happened?”

“I don’t know what happened,” you laughed again at his slightly defensive tone. “That’s why I was worried.”

“Worried?” you teased, opting to poke fun at the confession to distract from how it set your stomach into a flurry of excitement.

There was a moment of quiet between you two. His eyes scanned over your face instead of responding, and the fluttering in your stomach intensified. Then you were engulfed in black, Dmitri throwing the towel over your head and ruffling your hair with it.

“Why are you wet?” he asked as you scrambled to pull the cloth off your head, huffing at him when he smirked at your disheveled state.

“There was a delay in the pipes, and I was under the stream of water when it finally kicked on,” you waved your hand dismissively, suddenly very insecure about the situation under the intensity of Dmitri’s amused gaze.

“Do showers work differently in your country?”

“No. But maybe you should have a talk with your cousin about his plumbing.”

You rolled your eyes. He was fully smiling now, absolutely delighted by your flustered agitation. You almost couldn’t stand how fond he looked, it made you want to crumble to your knees in front of him. Instead, you turned around and started back towards the bathroom.

“Try not to drown in there,” he called out as you went to close the door.

“If you’re so worried, why don’t you come and keep an eye on me?”

You paused then, the door still a quarter of the way open. You didn’t mean it like that. It was just a mindless retort, really, but the tension buzzing in the air from all of the teasing contorted it into something resembling a proposition.

Dmitri didn’t say a word at first, and you felt your palm sweating on the doorknob you were still gripping. Your words lingered with a heavy presence in the small room, your hammering heart the only sound in your ears for what felt like minutes. When Dmitri finally did speak, you noticed that his voice sounded rougher, his accent more defined than usual.

“You want that?”

Oh.

Maybe you did mean it like that. Just the thought of Dmitri actually joining you in the shower made you feel like you would burst into flames, liquid heat coursing through your veins at the prospect.

Rather than answering, you looked back at him through the opening of the door, stuttering on an inhale when your eyes met his. His gaze was intense, his attention entirely fixed on you as he waited for some sort of explanation. You were nervous now, too nervous to know the right thing to say. Instead you let your hand fall from the doorknob and stepped back further into the bathroom, holding his gaze and pointedly leaving the door open. Your cheeks felt hot as you watched his lips part in understanding.

You had to turn away then, before you got too overwhelmed. You focused your attention on undressing and finally getting into the shower, which had begun to run cold since it was on for so long. You reached out a shaky hand to adjust the temperature, internally spiraling over the possibility that you might have just made a complete fool of yourself, and could have to spend the rest of the night with someone who turned you away.

Before you could feel too rejected, you heard the door creak as it was pushed further open. You held your breath when the shadow of Dmitri’s silhouette slowly moved behind the shower curtain, trembling when you heard him quietly call out your name.

“Are you sure about this?” he sounded almost like he was out of breath. “If I come in there, more than just my eyes will be on you.”

Fuck. You felt your heartbeat between your legs, the realization that he was holding back making your body heat up, the steam coming from the water only adding to that effect.

“Yes,” you fought to keep your voice even. “I’m sure, Dmitri.”

There was a rustle of what could only be him stripping off his clothes. You turned your back to the curtain and took a steadying breath, closing your eyes as you faced the stream of water. The splash was almost sweltering, though you appreciated it when you felt the cool air creep in upon Dmitri’s entrance.

You gasped when he immediately pressed himself against you, his chest flush with your back as he mouthed along the line of your shoulder. Being this close to him brought you back to that day in the woods. You could feel his heart beating just as fast now as it was then, and you couldn’t help the surge of pride at having that effect on him.

His hands held your hips firmly, and you tilted your head so that his mouth could wander the expanse of your neck. You hummed when he peppered gentle, open mouthed kisses along a tender wound right under your jaw. One of the prison guards had nicked you with a blade.

“That feels nice. It’s still really sore,” you breathed.

His grip tightened on your waist. “I took care of him.”

You shivered at that. Of course he did.

Your hands desperately reached for him, one grasping at his hair as he began sucking right at the junction of your neck and shoulder, the other circling one of his wrists and pushing down in an attempt to guide his hands lower.

He chuckled and you felt it reverberate in your throat. “So needy.”

You huffed when he easily shook his hand free from your hold, instead grabbing your wrist and moving your hand between your legs.

“Touch yourself for me, куколка,” his lips were by your ear now. “Show me how you like it.”

You couldn’t help the desperate sound that tore past your lips, the frustration almost unbearable when he laughed again, his breath against your cheek more scorching than the water raining down on your bodies.

“You asked me to keep an eye on you, remember?” he teased, though relenting just a little when he brought his hands up to firmly knead your breasts. “I’m with you, now make yourself feel good for me.”

You were helpless like this, with his body looming over yours and his imposing voice in your ear. You finally pressed your fingers against your clit, rubbing with an even, steady rhythm while Dmitri watched. Delicate, breathy sounds spilled out of your mouth into the damp air around you, and at the small of your back you could feel something thick throb in response. You imagined how well Dmitri’s cock would fill you up, and you put more pressure into your strokes as you let your head fall back onto his shoulder.

Dmitri took the opportunity to wrap a hand around your bared throat, thumb stroking against your pulse point.

“So pretty,” he sighed, and you shuddered at the way his accent rolled over the word. “Does it feel good?”

When you didn’t immediately respond, too lost in chasing your own pleasure, you felt his grip tighten on your throat. You moaned properly then, your walls throbbing as if he just grabbed you by your core.

“Stay with me, now,” he growled into your ear. “I said, does it feel good?”

“Yes,” you gasped against his grip. Then, on an afterthought, you whispered: “Da.”

You smirked when he groaned at your use of his mother tongue, giggling when his resolve slipped away and he instinctively rubbed up against you while burying his face in your shoulder.

“You do too much playing,” despite his chastising, you could feel his smile against your skin.

“You’re one to talk,” you said breathlessly.

“You’re right,” he murmured, lifting his head and pressing a kiss to your temple. “But we’re having fun, no?”

To emphasize his point, he ground his hips against you once more. You both moaned when the slide of the water made his cock slip and slot between your thighs, so close to where you both wanted it to be.

“Блядь!” he hissed, thrusting forward again when you squeezed him between your thighs. He held your legs in place as he fucked you like that, the water and your arousal allowing his cock to glide easily between the soft plush of your inner thighs.

“So wet,” he growled appreciatively, grinding his hips into yours as he fucked your thighs. “And all for me. So good, малышка.”

“God, Dmitri,” you felt delirious as you looked down and watched the head of his cock peek out between your legs with each thrust, your thighs twitching when it just barely grazed against your clit. “Please.”

He pulled away from you then, and you could have cried from the loss of his warm weight against your frame. His hands on your waist guided you to turn and face him, and through the fog of pleasure, it dawned on you that this was the first time you were actually looking at him since this all began.

His wet hair was unruly, sticking up in multiple directions from you grabbing at it. And his eyes were dark, blue irises almost entirely engulfed by his lust-blown pupils, as they raked over your body to take in your own disheveled state. His strong chest heaved with his labored breathing, and you set your hands over the light dusting of hair there before trailing them up his neck, pulling him in for a hungry kiss.

Dmitri wasted no time in lifting you up and pushing your back against the wall, hissing into your mouth when you dug your nails into his shoulder at the cold press on your skin.

“Sorry, sorry,” you whispered, kissing the crescent welts and soothing the skin with your tongue.

He laughed lightly. “Don’t apologize. I want you to leave marks.”

He shifted then, adjusting his hold on you so that your legs were draped over his elbows, his hands supporting your lower back while he pressed you into the wall. You watched with hooded eyes as he lined himself up with your entrance, slowly easing the head of his cock in before meeting your gaze.

“Don’t look at me like that,” his voice was low, and your lips parted on a silent moan as he slowly thrust in and out, his thick cock stretching you wider and wider as he eased in deeper with each stroke.

He shamelessly moaned when he finally bottomed out, halting his movements when his hips were flush with yours and just pressing his weight into you. The pressure was too much and not enough at the same time. You felt like with one more inch he would split you open, yet you still weren’t as close to him as you wanted to be. You wouldn’t be satisfied until he consumed you completely.

His eyes were closed as he tried to regain his composure, and you couldn’t help but hungrily take in the way his pleasure etched into his features; furrowing his brow, flushing his cheeks, and pulling his lips into a soft ‘o’. He blinked his eyes open slowly, growling when he met your heated gaze.

“If you keep looking at me like that,” he warned. “I won’t be able to control myself.”

“Who said I want you to control yourself?” you smirked, unable to resist challenging him even with his cock filling you to the brim.

He smirked too, clicking his tongue as he lowered his face to tenderly rub his nose against yours. “What am I going to do with you?”

Then, as if to answer his own question, he pulled out and slammed back into you with a punishing thrust. You cried out, your head falling back against the tile when the force of his hips pushed you a few inches up the wall. He followed it up with another harsh thrust as he set a brutal rhythm, pressing his mouth to yours as he pounded into you with abandon.

“О Боже мой,” he grunted against your lips. “You feel so good. So perfect.”

You moaned as the praise showered over you, heating your skin more than the cascading water ever could. The wet sound of his hips slapping into yours reverberated throughout the small shower, filling your ears along with the guttural sounds Dmitri was making as he fucked you into the wall. You gasped when he adjusted your legs again, casting them over his shoulders so you were completely bent in half, all of his weight pushing into you as he got impossibly deeper.

The feverish cries spilling past your lips were uninhibited, growing louder and more desperate with each push of his hips against yours. You nearly sobbed when one of the hands supporting your lower back finally moved to rub against your clit, deft fingers stroking in tandem with every thrust.

“Вот так, малышка,” Dmitri’s voice rumbled against your throat where he had buried his head. “Ты звучишь потрясающе. Такая маленькая шлюшка для меня.”

You whined at his use of Russian, your body thrumming with pleasure as the foreign words ghosted across your damp skin and set every nerve ending into a frenzy.

“Dmitri,” you whimpered into his hair, latching onto the strands and shuddering when he applied more pressure to your clit, driving harder into your wet heat. “I’m so close.”

“Me too,” he rasped into your neck, an almost pained groan spilling from his lips as your walls clung tighter to his cock.

“In me,” you whispered, feeling him falter slightly in his movements before lifting his head to look at you with hesitant eyes.

“Please, Dmitri,” you whined, too blissed out to even feel remotely embarrassed by how desperate you were being. “I want to feel you inside me for days. Please.”

Your request pulled a feral growl from his chest, his hips quickly picking back up their ruthless pace as he chased his release. He moved to press his lips to yours again, though it just resulted in panting in each other’s mouths as your pleasure came closer and closer to its peak.

While his thumb continued its ministrations on your clit, Dmitri snuck two fingers down to squeeze them in alongside with his cock, curling them just so to press up against that sweet spot inside of you. That, coupled with the added stretch, was enough to make you see stars, stray tears falling down your cheeks as you trembled through wave after wave of pleasure.

“Да, да, да,” Dmitri chanted softly into the hair’s breadth of space between your lips, letting out a long moan as he followed you over the precipice. His hips stilled against yours as his cock throbbed inside you, liquid warmth seeping into your center and causing another belated surge of pleasure to shudder through your overstimulated body.

His forehead pressed into your shoulder as he let out a satisfied sigh. A tired laugh bubbled out of your chest as you cradled his head, petting down his hair to try and undo the mess you made of it. He hummed at the feeling of your fingers on his scalp, turning his head inward to press a line of kisses up your neck and to your jaw, not stopping until his lips found yours.

Without the cloud of lust muddling your senses, you were actually able to revel in the feeling of kissing Dmitri; how soft his lips felt, and the way the hairs of his mustache tickled the sensitive skin above your lip. You smiled against his mouth at the sensation.

He pulled away slightly, examining your face with adoring eyes. “What is it?”

“Your mustache tickles,” you giggled and bumped your nose with his, feeling giddy when he laughed along with you and pressed another sound kiss to your lips.

When you both decided it was finally time to actually bathe, he attentively helped you back down to your feet, letting you brace yourself against his sturdy frame while you tried to regain the feeling in your legs. His hands were gentle and diligent as they moved over the planes of your body, careful around healing wounds and bruises from the days passed as they lathered your skin with soap. He shot you an apologetic glance at the new bruises blossoming bright red on your lower back, tenderly massaging the skin there as he washed you.

You returned the favor once he was all done, delighting in the firm feel of his body under your hands as they glided over his skin. As you washed him, you felt the trickle of something warm and thick running down your thigh. It caught Dmitri’s attention as well, and his eyes darkened in interest as he brought his fingers to trail up your inner thigh, collecting the cum with the pads of two fingers before swiftly inserting them between your legs.

You gasped at the intrusion, burying your face in his chest when embarrassment burned in your cheeks.

“You did say you wanted to feel it in you for days, да?”

You shuddered at how smug he sounded, your face only feeling hotter when he massaged your tender walls before pulling his fingers back out.

By the time you stepped out of the shower the water was freezing, your teeth chattering away as you rushed to get dressed.

“This is nothing. We were just stranded in the cold for days,” Dmitri laughed at your jittery dance as you waited for him to finish changing.

You gladly let Dmitri bundle you up in a blanket once you were back in the bedroom, watching him with warm eyes as he adjusted the hem of the soft fabric around your neck. Your heart sank when he stepped away from the bed you were sitting on.

“Hey,” you called quietly, your anxiety spiking when he stopped in front of the other bed, looking back towards you curiously. “We… we can sleep together, if you want. It would be warmer that way.”

Dmitri blinked at you, almost confused, and you felt extremely shy all of the sudden. Then you saw him smirk, chuckling under his breath before reaching down and pulling the sheet off the bed.

“I was just grabbing another blanket,” he walked back over to you, pointing at the cloth draped over your still-shivering frame. “I didn’t think you’d share with me.”

“Oh,” you mumbled bashfully, dipping your chin further into the jumbled fabric around your neck.

You completely covered your face when he started laughing, embarrassed by how insecure you probably sounded. The bed dipped as he got on it, then you heard him softly call your name. Reluctantly pulling the blanket down, you found him lying on one side of the bed with his arms open in invitation.

You immediately burrowed into his side, feeling more than hearing the rumble in his chest when he let out another fond chuckle. He turned the lamp off next to the bed, a blanket of darkness falling over the room.

“So needy, куколка,” he whispered, enveloping you in his arms and kissing your hair.

“You just…” you hesitated, your chest constricting with the intensity of your feelings. You worried it might be too much for your current situation. “You make me feel safe.”

You felt him hold you tighter then. “Good. You are safe with me.”

You wanted to say more. You wanted him to know how happy he made you, and how much you cared for his safety too. You wanted to tell him that you would be more than willing to repeat tonight’s events, that you would eagerly accept and reciprocate his touch outside of this room.

But tomorrow was uncertain. There was no telling when, or even if, you’d make it back to the States. And if you did make it back, what did that mean for him?

“Dmitri,” you kept your voice quiet, not wanting to disturb the peace that had fallen over the dark room. “If it turns out that there is a way for us to get back to our country…”

You didn’t know how to finish the question. You didn’t know how to ask without making it sound like a request. You also didn’t know if you could handle an answer that involved you parting ways.

“Then we will go to your country,” he muttered the words sleepily into the top of your head, sending a chill down your scalp.

“You would leave your home?”

“Hm? My home?” his sleepy voice was laced with confusion. “I was living at a prison as a guard for years. Not the coziest home, eh?”

You hummed in understanding, deciding to leave it alone and let him sleep. He seemed to pick up on your unease, though, and you suddenly felt a tickle against your temple as he nuzzled his face into your hair.

“As far as I’m concerned,” he soothed a hand up and down your arm, squeezing your shoulder and pulling you impossibly closer to him. “You are home.”

You felt yourself sink into him, warmth spilling from your chest and all the way out, your toes and fingertips tingling with it.

Everything you wanted to say would be said eventually. If not, you were pretty sure Dmitri already knew.

                                          ///

Да/Da → Yes

Куколка → Literally means “little baby doll” or “dolly,” but it’s equivalent to “baby” or “sweetheart” in English

Малышкa → Baby

Блядь → Fuck

О Боже мой → Oh my God

“Вот так, малышка. Ты звучишь потрясающе. Такая маленькая шлюшка для меня.” → “That’s it, baby. You sound amazing. Such a little slut for me.”

[sunshineluverr]

It's Thursday, let's break up on Thursday • kth

Pairing : Taehyun x fem!reader

Word count : 4k

Genre : fluffy fluff, college au, (attempted) crack/humour, song fic

Synopsis : You're frustrated with your boyfriend's behaviour so you ended up deciding to break up with him on a regular Thursday.

(+ a cute day out with him!)

Warnings : slight angst cause it's about a break up, mentions of food (pork belly and other things), misunderstandings, reader overthinks stuff, some swearing, use of nicknames, slightly suggestive (?? barely just some mentions of it ig)

Few Disclaimers! : This is a work of pure fiction and only meant for entertainment purposes and does not depict anything about the idol or reader in real life

That being said, the website thing I've mentioned in the story is completely made up and even though that particular website exists, it does not read out the same instructions I've written down (for funny reasons)

The bonus scene is just something extra I wrote for fun and wholesomeness and is not that much relevant to the point of the fic. However I'll still recommend reading it, so, enjoy!

Song recommendation :

Biggest red flag :

Being scared of your own boyfriend.

Does that mean the boyfriend is a red flag? No. It's definitely you. Or at least that's what you believe in your head.

It's not been long since you started dating Taehyun. It's only been a month to be exact. Still you have yet to figure out how to act and react in a relationship and 𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 with someone like Taehyun.

Taehyun first met you during a group assignment between science & mechanism and physical education students. It was kind of a big deal for your college too, to be holding a project, this large scale.

The two of you kinda seemed to hit off instantly as you were assigned partners and shared your interest in having the thirst for knowledge.

The project was to create a device that will somehow help in boosting physical activity level of an individual. It was a complicated assignment indeed, causing you and Taehyun to work really hard on it together non stop which led to both of you having to be inseparable for weeks.

You ended up always having lunch together, spending breaks together, and always being at each other's dorms. And neither of you seemed to mind the closeness and comfortability that naturally came with spending so much time together.

On presentation day, it was a huge success. So much so infact that the device you both created for your project, was used as an example to other students and juniors. That night you both went all out to celebrate. That night was crazy.

"Oh what's this? Kang Taehyun has brought cake? What about the calories??" you tease him, going through the grocery bag he brought full of things for you two to celebrate.

"Calories are invisible for me when I see stawberry shortcake. Besides, we deserve it" He puts both arms on his waist and gives you a proud smile, you return the gesture, smiling warmly as you nod in agreement.

"Meat meat meat!! Grilling the meat Taehyunnie!" You do a little dance and song while he grills the pork belly for the two of you to eat.

You missed to catch the glimmer in Taehyun's eyes, as he watches you being so excited, he stares fondly because it brings joy in his heart to see you so happy. The two of you feast till you're content and then ended up sprawled on the carpetted floor, stomachs full.

"It's funny that we spent this much time together for merely a college assignment. None of the teams probably took it this seriously" You laugh at the irony and he hums in response.

"Like seriously Taehyun? How did you even get so much free time? Do you even have any friends?" You say in a mocking tone.

"I am pretty sure I have more friends than you, actually" Taehyun says bluntly to your comment. But you're used to his blunt and absolutely savage comebacks at this point.

"Okay okay Mr. popular, you're probably right too." you give a weak laugh

"It's true, I am just a lonely girl and after this, now that the project's over, we don't need to hang out together all the time, we must go our separate ways and-"

You're interrupted by Taehyun suddenly getting up and coming on top of you. You're extremely shocked and fall stiff.

"Um...Tae-"

"Shut up"

"Oh um...sorry." you gulp. That was kinda scary.

"No I mean, shut up about what you said. Take it back. What do you mean we're going separate ways? We can only become closer from this point on" Taehyun says as he is only inches away from your face, yet there is no sign of any emotion on him, as always he is so hard to read.

"If you want to stay friends Tae...we can, I will be more than happy to-"

"Friends? You really don't get it do you?" He says as he closes in the distance, to the point he's practically breathing on your face.

"I like you" he whispers and you surely felt your heart skip a whole beat.

The two of you just stay silent in the same position for a full two minutes. You needed to process what just happened.

You'd admit, you had feelings for Taehyun too, the way he smiles so rare but so pretty, the way he is so passionate and talented about his work, the way he randomly starts doing push ups anywhere and looks so hot while doing them. He was such an attractive guy, but you never took your feelings into consideration as he was kind of your first friend on college grounds. You didn't want to confuse romantic and platonic emotions.

But now that Taehyun, the Kang Cold Taehyun has confessed to you, you felt a wave of confidence beginning to loom over you.

"You like me? I like you too... Should we date?"

You finally give a reply to the boy hovering above you.

He gives away a soft smile then gets up, reaching out a hand to help you get up as well.

"Alright it's getting late right now, tomorrow is class after all"

"Huh what? What why where?"

Before you're able to process anything, Taehyun places a lingering kiss on your cheek and gives you a smile and a wave goodbye and immediately he is out the door.

"Good... night?"

That was the day it officially all began. Taehyun the dreadful boyfriend era.

The two of you never 100% established that you're officially dating, but you're going along with it.

There were quite a few significant changes that confirmed you're dating, like how whenever Taehyun and you walk side by side now, he makes sure to grab your hand. Another thing is he invites you over to eat dinner together basically every other day. It was fun but also nerve wrecking.

But besides the hand holding, You knew that Taehyun is not the best example of a warm and affectionate person, so the lack of touch that comes with being in a relationship was evident. But it still annoyed you so bad, the two of you didn't even kiss yet! What is this? Middle school?!

Something else that bothered you is how much Taehyun doesn't have any opinion on anything. Whenever the two of you eat together or plan to watch something together, he lets you decide every single time. Who does he think you are, some sort of decision factory?!

Another change that freaked you out was : As friends, Taehyun was always so precise, whenever the two of you ate out, you would always perfectly split the bill but ever since you began dating him, he's bought you, your morning coffee, every single day! Even when you refused, he forcibly insisted?? Taehyun would never spend for someone's food like this. It made no sense.

And yeah okay sure, maybe he is an affectionate "would do anything for you" type of guy after all and you misunderstood him? Not! because the most important thing to him is his gym time. This was confirmed by your conversation with him on last Thursday.

* "Taehyun! My evening classes are cancelled! If you want we can hang out a bit extra today! Maybe go to the arcade, have some-"

"Oh today is lifting day. I'll just meet you at our usual dinner time. My place again today?"

"Uh...yeah sure.." *

You were heartbroken! Is "lifting" more important than spending quality time with your girlfriend?!

Oh and yeah the dinner thing probably seems sweet...but he never stays the night! Even if you'd be finishing until 11:30 pm, he'll not let you walk home all alone in the night and go with you to drop you off, but he definitely won't let you stay either!

Every damn thing of Kang Taehyun as a boyfriend confused you. And you've been wrecking your mind to try and figure out the whole dating situation, so you give up. It's just a simple first time dating someone, it's really not that deep, plus it won't be like he would be heartbroken ; so you decide to break up with him, this Thursday. You two were truly better off as friends.

Thus began, the depression arc.

This week you had been incredibly sad, you even missed a few classes and deadlines, especially weird when you're always so punctual and attentive, but suddenly you seemed to lose motivation to do absolutely anything. After barely getting through the first class this morning, you slump on your desk instead of going out for break like you usually do.

"Hey"

You were disturbed from your nap by a poke on the head. You slightly lift up your head to look at the culprit of the person that woke you : who else but Taehyun.

You respond in groans and he sits down next to you, in that empty classroom.

"I brought you your lunch here. Your welcome."

"Don't wanna" you whine

"But you have to. What's up even with you lately?" He asks, sounding confused but mostly, concerned.

"It's your fault!" You speak without thinking, still half asleep.

"My fault? Did I do something wrong? Tell me if I did something to make you uncomfortable"

"No. Bye. Break time is almost over" You're blunt and reject his politeness.

"I'm not going until you eat. I'll feed you myself if I have to." He insisted, stubborn as always

He'll feed you? by his hands? You blush. The offer was so tempting. But you must resist, you can't lead him on by acting lovey dovey if you're going to break up soon.

"I swear I'll eat in the next break, just go okay? I don't want you to be late to a class because of me."

"If you insist" he shrugs in dissapointment. And as your eyes watch him leave the door, they almost get teary, you wonder why.

Today was the day. Taehyun asks to have dinner with you again, so you go along because it would seem too unusual if you refused to have dinner with him. That's literally the one thing you guys do together. And probably the last time you will do it ever.

You realise you're a bit upset that you could lose you're only friend in your college by breaking up with Taehyun. But you assumed that he is a mature man and will probably continue the friendship, going back to the things and how they used to be. Finally.

You were less excited for tonight's dinner though, breaking up seemed easy but it was still a bummer. Even when Taehyun said he'll make fried rice for you, which was special because he would usually make some protein rich, healthy food, but today he was making your favourite. Gosh why today of all days he decided to be so sweet?!

When you arrived at his dormroom, you tried your hardest to maintain that cold aura. You exchanged fewer words, took off your coat and sat on the floor table. Still, Taehyun greets you with a smile.

"I have good news."

Why?!! you wonder, now you bringing the bad news will be such a downer!

"What is it?"

"All of tomorrow's classes are cancelled due to a condolence holiday, we can stay up late! In celebration, I bought cheese tteok and ice cream" Taehyun beams.

Actually this news cheered you also up as well too, like a free day off from school was always something to be happy about.

Taehyun brings in the pot of rice, two bowls and you begin to have dinner. Usually you start the conversation, but not doing so the two of you ate in silence. The uncomfortable awkward-ness started to build up from this point on.

When you both finished, you helped Taehyun to clean up. At the beginning of your friendship, he would strictly refuse for your help to clean up because of his default polite personality but gradually, he got better at taking help from you since how often you'd come to his dorm, you practically lived there. (but of course you're still pissed off about the fact that he never asked you to stay over, though)

As the tidying and dishes were done, Taehyun suggests to play a videogame together but you brutally refused to which he pouts. You can't spend time in bonding with him right now, it's too late. You're about to break up with him any second now.

So you just sit on his couch scrolling through your phone, trying to distract yourself from the sight in front of you, that is, Taehyun doing his after meal work-out session. Even though it was annoying, he looks hot while excercising, so.

To try and find some motivation and ideas, you look up on your phone : "How to break up with your boyfriend?

You take a look at a site called wikihow, seemed suspicious..

" Method 1. Kill them"

You almost choke on air.

": If your boyfriend is dead! The relationship doesn't exist anymore! Super easy plan"

Wow okay um...if that's number one then what's number two?

"Method 2. Burn down his house : He will get too busy in trying to find a new house so he will break up with you himself!"

Is this site...for real????

You change up the text on your search bar to "How to break up with your boyfriend *gently* ?"

This time the results were different and safer. Phew.

Step 1. Compliment him

"Tae, uh you have some nice muscles you know? It's looking good"

"I know. Thank you"

Okay next...

Step 2. Try to start a conversation with him

"Taehyun come here. Can we talk?"

"Sure...?" He comes and sits beside you on the couch.

Step 3. Hug him

You give Taehyun a hug, he seemed to tense up a bit because he was surprised, but quickly returned the gesture, wrapping his arms around you. It was such a nice hug. He's so warm and muscular, yet soft, hugging him feels like the most comfortable heaven. You're going to miss hugs like this

Step 4. Say that you want to talk about something important

"Taehyun, I need to tell you something important"

"What is it? You can say anything to me"

Step 5. Rip off the bandaid!

"I wanna break up" you realise you only think the words and not actually say them from your mouth which lies hanging open. Taehyun watches you, confused.

"I..."

"Is everything alright?"

"I uh.."

"Are you crying?" Taehyun asks as he frowns with worry

"Huh? What? I am?!"

You touch your face and it's wet with hot tears. Sad feelings starting to sink in.

"I'm- I'm sorry"

"Why? Are you okay? What happened?" Taehyun voice is soft and caring as he cups your face.

You give in and start to sob, crying hard. You didn't contemplate the fact just how hard you had fallen for Kang Taehyun. It's true that even though there so many things that bothered or confused you, there were enough factors that kept you wanting more and needing more of him, all the time. He's imperfect but perfect as well and you loved him, you couldn't break up with him, you just couldn't.

"I'm sorry I can't" you sniffle

"Can't what?" He asks wiping a tear

"Can't break up with you"

Taehyun's jaw drops lightly, he really did not expect you to say that

"Who is asking you to do that? It's not like I'm breaking up with you"

"Oh yeah..." you let out, feeling dumbfounded

He smiles, in amusement almost.

You frown and throw a light punch to his arm.

"I'm breaking up with you because you're a terrible boyfriend!"

"I am?!"

"Yeah!" You sob more

"Uh did I do something wrong?"

"Everything! Taehyun you don't understand, this is my first real relationship and you used to be my only friend, so whenever I feel stressed about something on how to act or react as a girlfriend, or how everything is so confusing I cannot ask anyone or rant to anyone because I'm just a sad loner and and-! just! I don't understand anything!"

Taehyun lets out a small laugh and you look at him in confusion.

"Why don't you rant about your boyfriend to me...as your friend?"

"But you are my boyfriend!"

"Pretend I'm not"

"Well..then" you begin, wipping off a tear.

"My boyfriend is so annoying because he always pays for my stuff even though I never ask him to"

"Maybe that's his way of showing his love for you, his love language is acts of service?"

"I suppose that makes sense...But he never lets me stay over! Like we are boyfriend and girlfriend for fucks sake we can sleep together if we want to!"

"Maybe he is scared that if you stay over, his temptations will get to him and he is afraid you're not ready for taking that step so early into the relationship"

"Um well..uh he totally loves gyming more than me! He spends more time at the gym than with me!"

"Maybe if you voice your demands to him, he will comply and spend a lot more time with you, whenever you need"

"But but... he's so distant...we haven't even kissed yet!"

And instead of getting another logical (and wholesome) reply from your "best friend" Taehyun leaned in to press a kiss on your lips. It was soft and warm and sweet. You felt so happy to kiss him.

He separates the kiss and you feel like crying even more.

"Taehyun... you're the best boyfriend ever! I'm sorry I doubted you... I'm the worst"

"Shh shh...do not say that about yourself. I'm sorry if I seemed too careful or too distant. I will try harder for you."

"Me- me too! Taehyun...I love you"

"I love you too." He places another peck on your lips

"And really, you can just ask if you want to sleep over...but don't blame me for what happens after that" he gives you a playful smirk making you blush

"Kang Taehyun you drive me insane!!"

Step 6 : Congratulations! You have broken up with your boyfriend unsuccessfully!

(♡Bonus Scene♡)

"Tyun. Today I will take you out for the best adventure ever!"

"Oh?" he perks an eyebrow at you "but what's the occasion?"

"Hmm just, you'll see!"

That conversation you had with him, this morning, in the bath, while he was washing your hair. It isn't a often thing you two would shower together, but since you've grown so comfortable with him and today you really needed to save some time...

It was the best bet (even though it was so relaxing to the point you would spend the whole day right there but no way that's happening because it will probably be a health hazard)

Taehyun was confused about it all. It wasn't like today was your anniversary, birthday, valentines day, none. But you very specifically asked him to finish all his assignments beforehand, take an absentee from class and spend the whole day with you.

You had even picked out clothes for him by your choice, he was still confused but gladly accepted anything you ask him to do because he trusts you so much.

When he saw that the two of you, actually, matched clothes, like a cute couple pair set of clothes, he nodded and gave you a bright satisfied smile and a peck on the cheek. You're excited to receive those kind of reactions from him all day long because of all the surprises you planned.

Another surprise was that you would be driving! Although you would be using his car, cause you don't have your own. But since he's always the one driving for the two of you so you wanted to give him a break and return the gesture.

"But-"

"No buts! today you're the passenger princess babe, now hop in!"

Taehyun rolls his eyes at your teasing, though his heart flutters at you puttting in so many efforts just for him. He feels so loved and so in love, it's practically too much.

You drive around for a while, your destination clear in your mind. But even if it took quite some time to reach the location, the car ride was far from boring. You had put on a playlist of Taehyun's favorite songs, to put him in even higher spirits than he already was.

When you finally arrived, It was at a park, a hiking park to be specific.

"Wait baby really-? Are you sure you'd wanna do something like this? Will you be even alive?!" It seemed like he was joking but by his expression, he was genuinely concerned for your well being, knowing very well how much you hate any sort of physical activity.

"I'll be fine and we won't go that far so really you don't need to worry" You give a reassuring smile.

And yes, it's a shame you're not as physically energetic and adventurous as your boyfriend but that is exactly why you chose this place, it was perfect because it was completely unexpected. And his excitement was so clear on his face, it was so worth it.

The two of you began moving up the rocky road, hand in hand (or you'd probably fall to your death if he wasn't holding on tight)

The weather being perfect, just as you'd hoped it'd be. Despite your exhausted self, you appreciated the beauty of the hiking park ; there were flowers on every edge and small animals here and there.

As soon as you started recognising the pathway more and more, it was now you guiding Taehyun instead of him guiding you. He was surprised at your sudden enthusiasm but followed patiently nonetheless as you led the way.

You came to a stop to a bunch of trees that had hanging branches. Taehyun gave you a confused pout as to why you stopped suddenly and your heart did somersaults at his precious face.

"So, as we go through these branches, I want you to close your eyes."

"Huh? Why?" gosh he's stubborn as always, you think.

"just! please! or else I'll do it myself with my hands!"

"Okay okay" He finally closes his eyes. You firmed the grip on his hand and dragged him ahead, moving a few bushes and branches with your free hand.

"Okay" you sigh "You can open them now"

Taehyun's big eyes, grew bigger than ever and sparkled more than ever at the sight.

It was a giant tree, decorated with all sorts of confetti, ribbons, balloons, streamers and lights. One of the big branches had a swing attached to it, The swing was also adorable. There was a wide and thick picnic blanket spread across the grass. There was Large carving of yours and Taehyun's initials on the tree trunk. There were even Polaroids of you and Taehyun with tiny sticky notes next to them, bearing sweet messages, stuck on the tree.

It was absolutely beautiful and the most breath taking scene ever.

"So...what do you think?" You ask, expecting some words from your awe-struck boyfriend

"I...I don't know what to say.." Taehyun's eyes glimmered, almost a bit too much. Was he actually.... crying?!

"Taehyun are you-"

He interrupted you by lifting you in the air and twirling you around. "It's amazing. it's the best thing anyone has ever did for me! I love it so much!" He beamed.

His face was flushed and eyes were watery, surprisingly, but he had definitely teared up. Still you didn't ask about it as to not embarrass him and ruin the mood.

"I'm glad you like it!" you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning in closer.

"Like it? I love it! I love you!" Upon saying that, he immediately connected your lips, you're fluttering with affection.

The two of you, after hugging and kissing a bit more, finally settled down on the picnic blanket to enjoy the spread of lunch you had prepared. His compliments were endless, even if he wasn't a talkative person, he just couldn't stop expressing his love for you again and again.

"Love, please, would you tell me why all this special treatment you're giving me today? I'm so grateful for it but come on, there has to be something right?!"

"Why? I did it because you deserve it so much my dearest tyun!"

"that's not what I-"

You laugh. "fine fine, I'll tell you why I decided to do all of this, today, especially"

He leans in closer to listen attentively.

"So Taehyun, ready for the big reveal? Today is the anniversary of....'I was almost about to break up with you but I'm so glad I didn't and not doing so was the best decision I ever made' Surprise!"

His mouth was left hung open, unsure of how to feel about that information.

"Oh... really? why don't I remember that..."

You frown. "Geez Taehyun! unromantic as always!"

"Huh??" He's left more perplexed making you burst into laughter at his cute reactions.

"I'm kidding! and technically, it's the anniversary of our first kiss as well so it's on you for forgetting about that!" you give a light punch to his shoulder and he scrunches his face to give a fake dramatic reaction.

"Okay okay I'm sorry for not remembering, I suppose I have to kiss you to commemorate the occasion, so?"

"Hmm. You may." you shrug jokingly, receiving a laugh from him.

He leans in for a soft kiss, and a lot more.

But deep down you knew that you thought of this day as something else really, It was one of the biggest reliefs of your life, for not breaking up with Taehyun. Or that would've definitely been the worst kind of mistake as he's the best person you've ever met and loved and will continue to love forever.

A/n : Thank you so much for reading till the end and I hope you enjoyed this fic!

Thursday's child has far to go is one of my favourite TXT songs so I decided to kind of base a fic on it!

Btw if you saw my last post on here, I finally figured out how to use italics (turns out you can do it on Tumblr itself and I was just very stupid)

Anyways, I hope you have a nice day! And comments, critisism and feedback are highly appreciated! <3

[shakingparadigm]

What if Luka expects Hyuna to come like she did in his round with Mizi and he is plotting something.He has the trust of aliens,the love of the public and no one would suspect him to do something outside the box,far from the image he created of himself.Hyuna made her appearence in round 5 when we didn't expected it. If the round isn't entirely dedicated to Ivan and Till,this may be an option.He may confront Mizi and Hyuna,they may not be able to rescue Ivan and Till and not make it in time. Luka may not appear at all.

(Me overthinking things: OMG Akugetsu will cover Hyuna's song this must mean something | The other me: OMG I can't wait,this song literally suits him!)

(I like the style of your drawings,the way you use colors and the way you phrase things! When something about ALNST comes out I just wait for your updates! I can't imagine what will happen on tumblr when round 6 is out. And then all of us will wait for the next one over again XD)

Till the end.

TILL... the end...

Ok this is the worst joke I could ever make.

Oohh. Luka appearing in ROUND 6 would honestly be insane. I thought about him making an appearance in the short teaser scene before credits, but if he actually confronted anyone himself that would be so interesting. Imagine all 6 of them in the same episode... the same room... no way... the Alien Stage would be real...

Luka attempting to sabotage Mizi and Hyuna is such an intriguing concept. I do think he's figured out that Hyuna will be returning, he grew up with her, after all. He's most likely aware of her penchant for protecting people. He probably expects Mizi to come back for the only friends she has left, too. He couldn't do anything the first time he saw Hyuna after ROUND 5, but he might be more eager to get his hands on her now. If we get our first adult Hyuna and Luka interaction during ROUND 6 I'd actually go insane. as much as I hope for it though, I'm not sure whether or not it will actually happen. ROUND 6 already has a lot going for it. A final confession of love already makes for a heavy episode, but with Till's newly revealed backstory added to the mix? Mizi and Hyuna's attempt at a jailbreak? The whole video would probably need an entire week to be processed and even comprehended, especially if they want to go into extensive detail on each aspect. Still, though, if Luka interfered... if Mizi and Hyuna were unable to save anyone and had to defeatedly return to the rebellion base carrying the weight of their failure, well, I DON'T THINK I'D BE REACHABLE FOR AT LEAST 10 BUSINESS DAYS I'd have to go into hiding in order to cope with that. But who knows! The fun part about VIVINOS videos is that they're always gonna leave you fucked up in one way or another!

AKUGETSU COVERING ALL-IN. TILL COVERING HYUNA'S SONG. I've posted so many times about this day holy shit its finally real. It really does suit him! Do you think AKUGETSU is

1) hinting that Till is joining the rebellion

or

2) giving us the All-In cover as compensation for whatever bad thing is going to happen to Till

(or a secret third thing: he literally just did it for fun and we've just gone insane.)

Ahh thank you so much for enjoying my stuff! I'm so happy, everyone's been really nice to me as of late and I don't know what to doooo hahaha I'm just really glad to share everyone's excitement for ALIEN STAGE :)

You wait for my updates??!! oh no I'm so sorry 😭 I'm quite late at times because I've had some stuff going on (I've barely said anything about the April Fools actor au 😭) but hopefully I'll be free to go absolutely nuts after the release of ROUND 6 tomorrow!! If you're ever in need of someone to scream about ROUND 6 with my inbox is always open!! Thank you for your kind words!!

Can't wait till I get to hear from you again! :)

[cottondo]

ONCELER X READER

CHAPTER 2. | butterfly milk

Your body was laying halfway off of the bed. It wasn't the most comfortable, or natural position, but it felt right at the time. You press the phone up closer to your ear with an increasing smile as you listen to your friend on the other end.

"Aww, Y/N, it's beautiful here! You'd love it. I just know it," onceler beams into the phone.

A soft giggle escapes your chest, a lightness in your cheeks as you hear his voice. "I'll have to come visit you sooner than expected then, huh?" You smirk into the phone.

It's been a few days since you've heard from him, and, no lie, you really missed his voice. It was hard to believe that it had already been a month since he's left.

Being bored was an understatement. Most of your free time was spent with Oncie. Living without him was pretty lame. Who else were you supposed to stuff your cheeks full of marshmallows with? Or sing stupid songs about birds when you both couldn't sleep at night? Nobody.

"Sure! I'm think the Lorax wouldn't mind! I've already told him about you. Well, mentioned you, really."

You glance out the window of your bedroom and notice the dusky sky. Your brows furrow slightly. "Just couldn't keep my name to yourself, could you, oncie?"

"Psh, nah. I just had to prove that I wasn't a complete loner." He laughs. "He thinks I am."

Wow. What an ass.

You roll your eyes and sit up straight. "Thanks, I'm feelin' the love." You snort back. He chuckles into the speaker, and you can hear a few things moving around in the background. He was probably cooking.

"Hey, don't be like that! You know you're still being thought about." He teases back.

"Yeah, well . . I definitely miss you around here. 'Wish you'd come back sooner." You sink into your pillows, letting out a little sigh in turn.

Things just weren't the same without your best friend. Of course, it didn't help that you liked him. Maybe a bit more than you should have liked him, for someone who was supposed to be just your best friend.

It was kinda hard not to like him, though.

Onceler was fun, though sometimes a bit artless, but he knew how to make you laugh, and always put you in a good mood. Most nights, at his house, the two of you would sit by the fire in the backyard and he'd play his guitar.

Nobody really understood him like you did. And that's why he stuck around with you for so long, you were sure of it.

"I know, I'm sorry. But hey! Just think about all the money I'll be making once it really takes off!" He's grinning, you just know it.

You bite back the worry in your voice.

"I'm excited for you,"

It's not like it wasn't a good invention- - it was just . . different. His family shunned him for it, people laughed at him, and nobody really understood the purpose of a Thneed. It didn't really need to be brought into the world, you supposed.

"Thanks. It's gonna be great. But hey, listen. You really should come visit when you're free! It gets kinda lonely over here sometimes." Onceler says, "I mean, the Barbarloots are pretty good company, but they've been over staying their welcome." You can hear him bite back some annoyance in his tone.

You smile, nodding as if he could see you.

"Hell yeah, I'd be down." What was that feeling in your chest? Was that your heart pounding?

"I'll start packing tonight." You laugh.

  A few pots and pans clang around on the other end of the phone, and you cringe a little.

"Wait— really? I'm not actually lonely, you don't have t—"

"Uh, duh, yea I do. I'll head out tomorrow, so you're not an outcast anymore." You sneer. There's a playful smirk on your face, but it's not like he could see it. "I know you miss my company." It was a little hard to hold back the flirting sometimes. Naturally, you were just good at it.

"That's a little harsh. I've been fine on my own. It's nice!" Onceler retorts. "It's just me and the Thneed. Can't get any better than that."

You know damn well that was a lie. Man's been alone for too long, most of his life, and there was no way he could avoid that lie any longer.

You smile, teasing him back. "Uhuh, yeah. You're loosin' it, twiggy."

"Alllright." He puts an end to that teasing, and huffs into the phone. "Just call when you're leaving. I'll give you the address."

You kick your feet up, body hanging halfway off of the bed again. "Okay."

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

time skip

┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛

  When you got in the car to start your drive, you didn't expect it to have so many views. It was a long drive, a freaking troop, to get there.

You've heard stories as a kid about the Truffula Forest. It was known around most places, as the prettiest forest in the world. They say the scent of a tuft is sweeter than butterfly milk.

You can remember when you'd beg your mom to stay up and tell you all of the stories and fairytales of the one called the Lorax. A guardian of the forest, saver of trees. Endless tales of Swamee swans, and singing fish. Their harmonies would echo throughout the hills, and they'd swim through the crystal clear lakes.

So when you remembered the stories, you imagined it being as beautiful as they all said it would be. But seeing it for yourself? You couldn't even explain how amazing the views were. The hills went on for miles. There was a sweetness in the air, and it was light and floral.

Creeks and rivers streamed through bright grass, and in them, the notorious fish, and above high, in the Truffula trees, were the Swamee swans.

Some Barbarloots laze around, while others, climb trees and avoid your vehicle. They peer down at you with curiosity, noses sniffing around your new scent.

You jumped out of the car with wide eyes, pep in your step.

This was it. The place of your dreams- - the spot you'd been longing for to see, hear, and smell.

This was definitely the place.

[ao719]

…Sometimes Not (Part 3)

Maybe It’s Supposed To Be This Way

This is a submission for @choicesflashfics, using prompt #3, “How long have you been standing there?”

Song inspo: Wish You The Best - Lewis Capaldi

A/N: This is an au mini series to my Always You story. Thank you @burnsoslow for prereading and helping me work out a few sections! Please excuse any errors.  

Book/Pairing: TRR; Liam x OC (Reyna)

Rating: T • Warnings: None but some language.

Word count: 2500

Catch up here

With his eyes closed and head tipped back, Liam stood beneath the spray of the shower, letting the hot water relax his muscles and wash away the sweat from his early morning run. It was Saturday, and after a week full of non-stop meetings and appearances, he was looking forward to a day off.

After finishing in the shower, Liam stepped out and grabbed the towel from the hook, wrapping it around his waist as he moved to the sink. He swiped his hand down the mirror, wiping away the condensation, and met his blue-eyed reflection.

Liam barely recognized himself; he hadn’t in a long time. And he didn’t need to ask himself what — or rather who — was missing in his life to have altered him so much.

After getting dressed, Liam padded down the hall from his bedroom to the kitchen; when he rounded the corner, he smiled. “Good morning.”

Riley turned, slipping her phone into her pocket. “Morning,” she smiled. Liam kissed her cheek before moving to the coffee pot. “How was your run?”

“Good,” Liam nodded, turning to her a moment later. “Want to join me for breakfast?”

“Oh, uh … I already ate,” Riley smiled ruefully. “I’m about to head up to Somerset, so I just grabbed something small.”

Somerset was the duchy bequeathed to Riley upon their engagement; she seemed to enjoy herself there, spending a lot of her free time at the estate. “Oh, well … I don’t have anything going on this weekend,” Liam said. “Maybe I’ll join you.”

“No,” Riley said a bit too quickly, and he furrowed his brows. She chuckled and let out a breath. “I mean, I’m about to leave now, and you’ll probably be bored out of your mind. I’ve got a silly flower festival to attend most of the day that the locals are putting on, so …”

“Oh … ok,” Liam nodded.

Hearing the hint of disappointment in his tone, Riley stepped up to him. “I’ll be back tomorrow. How about we do something then?”

“Yeah,” Liam forced a smile. “Sure.”

Riley perched on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his in a lingering kiss, careful not to jostle the coffee in his hand. She drew back with a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Liam watched her walk away; when he heard the door to their quarters latch shut, he let out a breath.

Throughout their first year and a half of marriage, things with Riley hadn’t exactly progressed to where Liam initially hoped they might — hoped because it would make things so much easier. He knew of Riley’s feelings towards him because she told him, and he tried using that knowledge to make himself feel the same. He was trying to build something out of scraps because that’s what his guilt told him he needed to do. They shared moments from kisses to even being intimate, moments every normal married couple had, and they were moments where he thought perhaps there was some spark beginning to ignite, but he hadn’t quite figured out if it was because he was truly feeling something or if it was just pity and remorse.

Liam may not have loved her, but Riley had generously offered to be his wife when he seemed to be out of options. Because of that, he couldn’t get past the guilt, feeling that she deserved so much more than what he was giving. So eventually, he started making more of an effort to build their relationship into something better for her. He tried spending more time with her, just the two of them, hoping that would help them to fall into a place to elevate their marriage. The more he tried, however, the more difficult it seemed; it felt like most of the time, his attempts were met with excuses, much like that morning. Riley claimed to be busy or would express needing some time to herself to decompress after a long week. He wasn’t one to press, so he gave her whatever space she wanted. And he tried telling himself that his disappointment was because he wanted to try to build something with his wife … and not because he was lonely … and missing someone else.

Liam walked out onto the terrace of his quarters; on the table sat a tray of breakfast breads and various fruits along with two papers. He lowered himself into the chair and set his coffee down as he lifted The Cordonian Herald and grabbed the paper underneath. He unfolded The New York Times, scanning over the front page; he started reading it years ago after helping Gideon with one of their famed crossword puzzles during a trip to New York with his father. He’d had a subscription ever since, and because of the time it took to ship across the ocean, he always read the Sunday edition from the previous week every Saturday morning. Sure, he could read and do the crossword online, but he liked having the physical copy in hand, so he didn’t mind being a week behind.

As he spread some apple butter onto a morning roll, Liam casually flipped through the pages. He took a bite of his bread before swallowing it down with a sip of coffee as he flipped to another page; as he set his mug down, a photo in the paper caught his immediate attention, and he swore he felt his heart stop.

There, in the Sunday Styles section, at the center of other wedding and engagement announcements was an article detailing the coming together of two of New York’s finest families.

And above the article was a photograph of Reyna … and her fiancé.

It had been almost two years since Liam last saw or spoke to Reyna; one year and 10 months to be exact. Every day, week, month, and year that passed without her seemed to chip away at him, taking a piece of him with it. He missed her more than he knew how to even put into words. He missed her smile and laugh, their late-night phone calls and video chats, their inside jokes and playful banter.

Everything. Liam missed everything about her — about them.

Liam tried not to think about Reyna, but despite his best efforts, most of the time his attempts were futile. He’d gotten a little better about being able to shove those thoughts away quicker over time, but a piece of her always seemed to linger there. He chalked it off to not knowing anything about her anymore, about how she was, about her life. He knew nothing.

Liam had gotten updates about Reyna from Gideon from time to time after learning about her spiral when she returned to New York after Leo’s botched coronation. He’d been so worried about her during that time, he needed those updates for his own sanity, to know she was safe and taking care of herself. They stopped about a month before his wedding, however, once he knew she was doing ok. He couldn’t bring himself to ask for updates on the life she was living without him. It was too hard. He convinced himself that not knowing was for the best.

This update Liam stumbled upon by complete accident, and at that moment he wished he hadn’t. Reyna was engaged. Engaged. And he felt like he couldn’t breathe, losing the ability to read the fine print through his blurred vision. To her boss, he incredulously thought to himself as he aggressively blinked back the tears forming. He only knew who Luca Moretti was from Gideon when he told him about her job back when she first got it, that she would be working for the son of their family friend slash lawyer. He had no idea that they … they were a thing. More than a thing, it would seem.

Reyna was engaged.

Despite knowing he had absolutely no right to feel any kind of way about it, Liam swore he could physically feel the remnants of his heart shatter as he stared at the photograph above the announcement. He focused his eyes on her as he chewed the inside of his cheek, unable to stop his tears from falling.

Reyna was engaged, and she looked … happy. She moved on.

And he needed to do the same.

Wiping his cheeks, Liam blew out a breath before closing the paper and tossing it aside. He had no choice but to let Reyna go for good. They were over; there was nothing left for them. And maybe this was what he needed to truly put things into focus, to put all of himself into building the life with Riley he’d been trying and failing to.

Standing from the table, Liam walked inside and pulled his phone from his pocket. “Bastien … I need a car prepared to take me to Somerset.”

Despite Riley’s protest earlier, maybe this is what she needed from him; maybe she needed him to show up for her on his own, to fight to spend time with her. Maybe it was extra effort she wanted and needed, something he’d not realized until now.

****

A while later, Liam stood on the balcony of the master suite in the Somerset estate. When he arrived, he was surprised that Riley hadn’t yet, but he thought perhaps she went straight to the festival first.

Liam was taking in the view of the gardens below when he heard the bedroom door open; he turned toward the set of double doors leading back inside, but instead of surprising Riley, it was he who got the surprise.

Stumbling into the master suite, locked in a heated kiss with their hands all over each other was Riley … and Drake.

Liam stood stunned, unable to say a word as he watched his wife and best friend — his wife, who was supposed to be here alone, and his best friend, who had told him he would be out of town that weekend.

It was clear from watching them that this wasn’t a first-time occurrence. And suddenly, all of Riley’s excuses came flooding back as Liam’s hands fisted at his sides in mute rage. He’d been so blinded by guilt, he hadn’t even seen the obvious signs.

Drake drew back from her lips with a grin and reached for the hem of her shirt, but stopped short when something caught his attention. He lifted his gaze and his eyes widened when they locked on Liam standing in the balcony doorway.

Riley tried to kiss Drake again, but he stepped back. “Stop teasing me,” she giggled. When he didn’t react, she furrowed her brows before turning to see what he was looking at; her complexion paled when she saw her husband.  

“Li, what … how long have you been standing there?” Drake asked.

Liam’s eyes narrowed. “You come in here kissing my wife, and all you can think of to say is to ask how fucking long I’ve been standing here?”

Riley shook her head. “Liam, it’s not—”

“Do not insult my intelligence by trying to lie to my fucking face after you’ve been caught,” Liam interrupted, his voice cold.

Drake swallowed thickly when Liam’s steely gaze cut back to him. “Li, I—”

“How long?”

“Listen—”

“HOW LONG?” Liam roared, his anger rising as Drake tried to deflect the inevitable conversation. Drake mumbled something under his breath as he dropped his gaze. “Speak up,” he growled as he stepped closer.

“Since … the Social Season,” Drake answered more clearly.

Noticing the way Liam’s expression twisted with fury at Drake’s response, Riley stepped toward him. “Liam, please,” she pleaded. “I know what you’re thinking, but—”

Liam recoiled away. “I’m thinking that I had hoped we could eventually build a real marriage because you made me think you actually fucking cared! And you,” he spat as he looked at Drake. “You were my fucking brother!”

In a brief moment of clarity, Liam realized that this — his anger and reaction — stemmed from the person he cared about, missed, and loved more than anything and anyone else not being in his life … and having moved on from him.

Suddenly, everything he’d been shoving down and trying to bury for the last two years erupted to the surface along with the emotions he was still reeling in from that morning and now this new layer of betrayal. He never saw any of it coming; he could never have imagined what his life would turn into.

And now Liam was left with nothing to show for what he sacrificed and gave up except heartache, disloyalty, and loss.

It all mingled, creating a storm inside.

In the next moment, one of blind rage, Liam surged forward; his fist came across Drake’s jaw with an audible crack, sending him to the floor as Riley yelped in surprise.

*******

Sitting in his study, Liam stared out the window, watching the rain fall outside. It had been four months since that day in Somerset. More had come to light and a lot had happened because of it.

Liam spoke to Drake the day after the confrontation when he came to see him at the palace, wanting to try to clear the air; he didn’t want to talk to him, but he had questions he needed answers to. He learned that Riley had manipulated everything from the very beginning, telling Drake one thing and him another, using them both.

Despite Riley being the master puppeteer, however, Drake was no mere marionette.

Liam also learned that Drake was under the impression that Riley had plans to “handle their situation.” They were plans that would have publicly humiliated Liam. While they never came to pass, which all seemed to be a part of her scheme, Drake sat idly by, with no intention of telling Liam the truth.

Liam felt deceived by both Riley and Drake, but that betrayal from Drake hurt the most.

Drake knew everything Liam had gone through over the last couple of years. He’d been there to listen to him vent, watched him break down when he felt like his world was falling apart, and he knew of the guilt he’d felt for not giving Riley what he thought she deserved.

Despite all of that, rather than having Liam’s back like he said he did and always would, Drake had spent the last two years hurling knives into it instead.

A knock on his door pulled Liam’s attention, and he cleared his throat before calling for them to enter. Rashad stepped inside a moment later. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”

Liam offered a subtle smile. “Not at all.”

“I wanted to give you this …” Rashad set down a packet of papers in front of him. “It’s done.”

“Thank you,” Liam replied as he stared down at the documents.

The divorce was finalized.

At first, Liam had been so shell-shocked, he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do or how to move forward. Riley came to see him that night after the confrontation; she cried, said she was sorry, and begged him to forgive her. He asked her to leave, and a few days later, he came to a decision, one that, for the first time, was best for him.

Liam spoke to his father, council, and advisors so they knew of his plan beforehand. By the end of the following day, he’d filed for divorce and released a public statement in order to stay ahead of it.

Liam didn’t speak to Riley throughout the proceedings, communicating only through lawyers; she’d been staying in a hotel but left to go back to New York two months ago. He hadn’t spoken to Drake since the day he came to see him, but last he heard, he was in Texas … alone.

Now, Liam was a free man, no longer tied into a marriage that never should have happened to begin with. And he found himself right back where he’d always been, with Reyna heavy on his mind and heart. The only difference was that no guilt accompanied his musings now. He’d thought about reaching out, but after all the time that had passed, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

The only thing Liam could do was hope that Reyna was happy while he loved her from afar and cherished their past … because distance and memories were all he had left.

***************************************

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[snovaness]

A dream

Was it embarrassing? Possibly but right now you didn't care. There he was in a simple oversized white t-shirt and blue flannel. The t-shirt's neckline showed off his beautiful collarbones you'd be lying if you said it wasn't driving you insane. He looked ethereal while you were in your stained work clothes from the café. You are positive that he could tell that you were flustered by the sight of him. "Han, we're closed what are you doing here?" the man standing before you was practically a daily regular with a few of his friends. The two of you weren't exactly friends, but you were friendly enough that your conversations went beyond typical barista and customer formalities.

"Yeah, I know but I... I remember that you said you hated closing alone and I just was on my way to my friend's place and wanted to make sure you were okay." You felt your face heat up. "Yeah, I'm good! I'm just about to lock up and head home. I appreciate the thought... it's very sweet of you." he stood behind you as you made sure the doors of the front of the café were bolted shut. "How about I walk you home? I imagine you don't live that far from here?" he asks. "I live a few blocks north from here. I can walk alone if that's out of your way. I'm used to it by now" He shakes his head "No really I'd love to. I have to head that way anyway." you nod and he motions for you to take the lead.

"So work on any new songs lately?" you ask casually. He told you last week that he makes music with a couple of his friends and posts them on YouTube and Spotify under their group name 3racha. You can see him smile brightly from the corner of your eye. "yeah! I finished my 4th song this week. I'm actually on my way to record some demos with Chan and Changbin. You remember them right?" you nod "yeah! they come with you often. Not nearly as often as Felix and Lee know though. Oh and can you tell Felix I did try his banana bread recipe and it was really good."

"I can always just give you his number if you want it," he says quietly. you shake your head "No that's okay. I wouldn't say we are that close. If I'm being honest I think your friends only talk to me so much because you come to the café so often. Not that I mind I really enjoy you guys. Don't tell anyone but you are my favorite regular." a blush creeps up to his cheeks and his ears turn a light shade of pink. "well you are my favorite barista." you laugh "Your order is the same every time you come in. You don't exactly change things up which makes things very easy for me." a comfortable silence falls between the two of you. Seeing your apartment in the distance you feel a strange wave of sadness that your walk with Han is about to end. Your thoughts land on the teasing of your co-workers who have grown to notice the crush you have on Han. Was it that obvious? Did he know? It was just a silly crush it wasn't like you planned to confess to him that would be insane.

"Well, this is the building I live in." you motion your hand to the apartment complex about 100 feet in front of the two of you. He laughs "This is crazy but my friend actually lives in that apartment building right there." he points to a gray building across the street. "Oh wow, how close! Funny that we have never run into each other around here then. Well... I hope I get to see you soon. Min will be there tomorrow if you stop by the café." he looks at you through the lid of his cap "Will you be there tomorrow?" you shake your head "I have the next two days off actually! I'm pretty excited even though all I'll probably do is sleep and catch up on some chores." he smiles at your excitement over your uninteresting plans. "well if your free tomorrow night there's this new horror movie out. I remember you said your favorite genre was horror... would you like to watch it together?" you watch him shove his hands in his pockets as the question processes through your brain. He bites his lower lip as he waits for your response. "I'd love to" At this point your cheeks are so hot you are sure he can feel the heat radiate off of you. You truly cannot fathom the fact that Han of all people has just asked you on a date.

"Really? Great! I will pick you up at 5 if that works with you. Can I have your number? I have actually been wanting to ask you for a while but wasn't sure if it was appropriate." you laugh as you type your number into his phone. How sweet you think to yourself. "gosh you're so cute" Your eyes widen when you realize that you said that out loud. "I think you're cute too," he says as he adjusts his cap. "Thanks for walking me home. I look forward to our date tomorrow" you place a kiss on his cheek and head inside your building. A deep breath escapes your mouth. As you unlock your apartment door you realize that you just kissed Han on the cheek. After he just asked you on a date.

You raise your hands towards your face and smile widely. This felt like a dream. You start to convince yourself that you've created this whole situation in your head. That was until your phone started buzzing in your pocket. Your smile widens as you read the message "I'll pick you up at 5 tomorrow." a chuckle escapes your mouth when another message comes in. "This is Han btw".