#it feels nice to talk about it and not feel weighed down anymore

[k-nayee]

Ghost Town BNHA

wc: 2.8k a/n: Song Inspiration: Ghost Town by Benson Boone; recommend you listen while reading!!

Traveler M.List

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

You fill me up 'til you're empty...

The late afternoon sun casted a warmth over school grounds as you chatted with  Uraraka and Midoriya.

It was nice as the three of you walked together; even the greenette, who usually had a hard time speaking to girls, laughed along with your teasing comments.

Bakugo stood a little ways off, watching. His crimson eyes were sharp with a certain tension in his expression that hadn’t been there earlier that day.

Normally he would’ve made some snide comment by now, especially seeing you standing so close to the timid boy.

But today, Bakugo wasn’t himself.

He approached you in deliberate strides, his jaw set. You noticed the way his hands were shoved deep into his pockets, almost as if he was holding himself back.

As he neared, you felt a flicker of something—nervousness? Excitement?—you couldn’t quite place it. Bakugo always had a way of stirring something inside you, no matter the circumstance.

“Oi,” he barked, voice unusually serious. “We need to talk.”

I took too much and you let me...

Conversation around you fizzled as Uraraka and Midoriya exchanged confused glances. You, too, blinked in surprise. Normally, Bakugo wasn’t this direct—not with you, anyway.

He was blunt, sure, but not like this. There was a hardness to his tone, an edge that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

You smiled, trying to keep things light. “What’s up, Katsuki?”

He didn’t respond, his eyes flickering to the duo. You take the hint and turn to the pair, giving them a quick wave. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

As your friends walked away the air between you and Bakugo thickened. He turned abruptly, heading toward the school building without a word, leaving you no choice but to follow.

When you reached an empty classroom, you slip inside, Bakugo shutting the door behind with a soft click. The familiar scent of chalk and old textbooks filled the space, but it did nothing to ease the growing tension.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just stood there with his hands still in his pockets, gaze fixed on a spot on the floor. His usual gruffness was gone—replaced by something much colder, much more distant.

We’ve been down all these roads before...

You watched him, waiting, hoping that he would explain whatever was weighing him down.

“Katsuki?” you step closer, voice soft. You offer him a bright smile, the kind that usually softened his rough edges.

But today, it didn’t reach him. He barely looked at you.

A sinking feeling began to settle in your chest. “Is something wrong?”

The silence hung between you like a heavy curtain. You reached out, your fingers just grazing his sleev—

“I want to break up.”

And what we found don’t live there anymore...

You took a step back, feeling as if his words had physically struck you. Your heart pounded in your chest until it echoed in your ears, drowning out the silence that had fallen between you.

“…What?” The word barely escaped your lips, a fragile whisper as your mind struggled to comprehend what he’d just said.

It didn’t make sense. Nothing about this made sense.

Bakugo’s jaw clenched, and for a fleeting moment, his crimson eyes met yours. He stiffened at the sight of you—vulnerable, confused.

Your brows furrowed in pain, your lips pressed together in an attempt to hold back the hurt. Seeing you like this made something inside him twist sharply.

But just as quickly, he tore his gaze away, refusing to let you see the storm raging inside him. 

“This,” he said, gesturing between the two of you with a sharp wave of his hand, “only happened out of obligation.”

Obligation...

The word hit you harder than the breakup itself.

He continued, his tone bitter.  “You know how the old hag was. Always on my ass, hounding me to give you a chance.”

It's dark...

Your mind reeled. You met Bakugo in middle school and from that moment you’d been drawn to him.

He was rough and brash with a fire that burned everything he did, and that only made you more determined to get close to him.

Your crush had been obvious, but you never shied away from it. You pursued him with a confidence that even now looking back you admired.

And yes, Bakugo had been difficult—dishing out the usual sharp remarks, disrespect dripping from every word. But still, you never backed down.

You tolerated it—not out of weakness, but because you refused to be intimidated by him.

You met his fire with your own; challenging him and pushing back, not afraid to give him the same energy he threw at the world.

It's cold...

At first you were just an affectionate annoyance to him. Always hanging around, always inserting yourself into his space. But with time, you grew on him—though he’d never admit it.

You became a part of his life, slipping past the walls he put up around everyone. He never asked for it, but he came to expect your presence—to crave it in ways he didn’t understand.

And now, standing in this empty classroom you could barely recognize him.

For a moment your voice felt lost. The Bakugo in front of you—saying these words and shutting himself off—was a stranger.

Something inside you knew he was lying. He had to be.

“…You’re lying.” Your voice came out weak, trembling.

The silence that followed was suffocating. Your words hung in the air fragile, and you weren’t sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself.

But you knew Bakugo. He was a lot of things—angry, hotheaded, unpredictable—but he wasn’t a liar. Not to you.

If my hand is not the one you're meant to hold...

You searched his face for any hint of truth, any crack in his exterior. But his expression was hard, closed off in a way you hadn’t seen in so long.

“I’m not, and you know it!” His voice was sharp, louder than before with anger lacing every word.

His lips press into a thin line as his teeth into the flesh to keep the words trapped inside—the sorrys, the desperate apologies. Taking one last look at your face, he turns away with a scoff.

His chest tightened as he try to hold back the wave of guilt that threatened to swallow him whole.

But he couldn’t let it out. If he did, it’d be over. He wouldn’t be able to do this.

Wouldn’t be able to let you go.

"You are!" Your voice cut through the silence more sure this time. He could hear the determined steps you took toward him, the confidence in your voice making it even harder to breathe.

You were close now, close enough that he could feel your warmth even though he kept his back to you. He didn’t dare turn around.

"Tell me you don’t love me if you’re serious." You dared him, forcing him to confront the truth you already knew. "Because the Katsuki I know will tell me the truth, because he isn’t afraid of the consequences."

You know I'll stay don't you tempt me...

The words echoed in his mind, bouncing off the walls he had built around himself. And for a second, just a second, Bakugo faltered.

His resolve wavered at the sound of your belief in him—a belief he didn’t deserve, not after everything he was about to do.

Your confidence made his head spin, made the words in his throat turn to ash.

But no matter how much your voice reached out to him the doubt gnawed at him. The weight of every fear and insecurity clawing at the edges of his mind.

Do it, the voice whispered. You don’t deserve her. She deserves better, someone who can give her the kind of love you can’t.

The voice grew louder, drowning out everything else. They took root in his mind; poisoning every thought and emotion until all he could feel was the crushing weight of his own incompetence.

But all this weight is getting heavy...

"You want the truth?” Before he could stop himself the words ripped from his throat.

Turning around to face you with a vicious glare, his voice was laced with venom. “I can’t keep letting an extra like you drag me down!"

The second the words left his mouth the air between you seemed to freeze. Your footsteps, even the sound of your breathing—it all stopped.

The world felt like it had come to a standstill.

Bakugo's heart hammered in his chest as he forced himself to keep going. "You're not even in the hero course!"

Though meant to hurt and push you away, as soon as they left his mouth, he felt a sickening twist in his gut. Still he couldn’t stop. He had to finish this.

“Keep following me around like a pathetic dog. I will be Number One, and I refuse to have any baggage slowing me down!" His voice rose, louder and harsher than he meant.

Every syllable spoken was coated in venom, cutting deeper and deeper with each passing second. And then—silence.

Been holding up what wasn't meant to stand...

No words. No movement. Just...nothing.

Bakugo grit his teeth, jaw tight as he waited—waited for you to scream, to lash out, to fight back like you always did. But nothing came.

The silence stretched on, wrapping around him like chains, pulling him down deeper into the pit he had dug for himself.

Then, came the sound of your sniffles. Soft and faint, the sound of your heart breaking. For years, you always worried that you weren’t good enough for Bakugo.

You didn’t have the flashy, powerful quirk that the others did. Hell, you weren’t even in the hero course! You were just a simple General Studies student.

That insecurity had haunted you for as long as you could remember. It always lingered in the back of your mind, whispering doubts whenever you saw Bakugo training, pushing himself harder than anyone else.

And it had only gotten worse when you started dating him. You couldn’t help but wonder if people looked at you and thought, How could someone like her ever deserve him?

I turned this love into a wasteland...

But Bakugo had always been there to shut those thoughts down. Harshly. Brutally. He never let you get away with doubting yourself, always snapping at you for thinking so low of yourself.

His scolding had been tough, unrelenting, but it was his way of caring—his way of showing you that he believed in you, even when you didn’t believe in yourself.

And now...he was throwing all of that in your face.

His words cut deeper than you ever thought they could. He was attacking the very thing he had always defended you against.

The thing he had never let you believe about yourself. You weren’t in the hero course. You didn’t have a strong quirk. You weren’t like him.

Maybe you never would be.

The weight of his words pressed down on you, making your chest tight and throat constrict. You were so overwhelmed, so hurt, that you didn’t even notice one crucial thing.

He never said it.

Bakugo never said, “I don’t love you.”

But in your frantic state, your mind couldn’t latch onto that detail. Instead, it spiraled; twisting in on itself, unraveling every belief you’d ever held about his love for you.

Before I turn your heart into a ghost town...

Was everything he ever told you a lie? Was this how he truly felt all along?

'Was I just fooling myself this whole time?'

The thoughts came at you fast like a storm. Everything you thought was real—every tender moment, every quiet confession, every time Bakugo had pulled you close, even if he didn’t say the words outright—it all felt like it was shattering into pieces in front of you.

It was all too much. You couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t be here in this moment.

Not with him, not with those venomous words still hanging in the air between you.

Your vision blurred and you could feel your heart pounding wildly in your chest, threatening to tear you apart from the inside.

Panic set in. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight. Every part of you screamed to get out, to run, to escape.

'I can’t let him see me like this. I can’t...'

Before you knew it your hand was on the door, slamming it open with a force that rattled the frame.

Show me everything we built so I can tear it all down...

The sound echoed through the empty halls as you bolted, your sobs finally breaking free from your lips.

The world outside the classroom was a blur. Your tears streamed freely now, hot and stinging against your cheeks. You didn’t care who saw you.

You just needed to get away, to be anywhere but here. Suddenly, your shoulder slammed into something—someone—knocking you off balance.

You gasped, the impact jarring you out of your spiral for a split second.

Your eyes barely registered the green hair before you stammered out a tearful, jumbled, "S-sorry!" Your voice cracked by the sobs that you couldn’t control.

Down...

Down, down, down...

Izuku stumbled back wide-eyed in shock, his hand instinctively reaching out to steady you. But before he could ask what was wrong, you were already gone.

His fingers brushed the air where you had just been, mouth opened as if to call after you, but the words never came.

He watched helplessly as you disappeared down the hallway, your sobs echoing behind you like the remnants of a broken heart.

His hand hovered in the air for a moment longer, his brows furrowing in concern. “Wha...?”

His gaze flickered to where you had come from, the half-open door to the classroom still swinging slightly from your frantic exit.

What the hell just happened?

With a sinking feeling in his chest Izuku slowly approached the classroom door. Peering through the half-open door, he froze.

Tear it all down...

Inside the empty classroom stood Bakugo. The blonde had his back to the door as stared out the window.

Izuku had known Bakugo for a long time. He’d seen him angry, frustrated, ready to explode at a moment’s notice. But this...this was different.

This time he was silent. Completely and utterly still.

“Kacchan?” Izuku’s voice was hesitant, quiet, as if he were afraid to break the silence.

Not receiving an answer, the freckled greenette took a cautious step into the room, one foot out just in case he needed to make a quick escape. “Why was ____ crying? Is everything al—”

“Izuku.”

Izuku’s words died in his throat as his eyes widened in shock. His name. Bakugo never called him by his real name. Ever.

Not unless something was really, really wrong.

Down...

Heart-broken, teary vermillion eyes are the first thing he sees.

“Y-Yeah?” Izuku stammered. He took another step forward, but he froze again when Bakugo finally turned around.

His face was twisted, lips trembling as if he were desperately trying to hold everything in. The raw emotion on his face—the vulnerability—was something Izuku had never seen before.

It was like looking at a stranger.

“Kacchan...” Izuku’s voice was barely a whisper. For a long moment, the two boys just stood there staring at each other in silence.

Izuku was in disbelief at the sight of Bakugo. His childhood friend, his rival, the one person he had always thought was untouchable—completely crumbling before him.

But the more time passed, the more Bakugo’s carefully constructed façade began to shatter. And then, with a strangled yell Bakugo folded in on himself.

His body shook violently as he hunched forward, arms wrapping around his middle as if he could physically hold himself together.

But it was no use. The dam had broken.

Down, down, down...

Izuku’s heart lurched in his chest, legs moving before his brain could even process what was happening. He rushed forward, catching Bakugo just as the blonde collapsed from the weight of his own emotions.

“K-Kacchan—Bakugo!” Izuku’s voice was panicked, his arms holding the teen to steady him, though he barely knew what to do. “What’s going on? What happened?”

Bakugo wasn’t supposed to break like this. He wasn’t supposed to fall apart. He was strong. Stronger than anyone.

And yet, here he was: trembling violently, sobbing uncontrollably in Izuku’s arms.

“I… I had to…” Bakugo choked out between gasping, shuddering breaths. His voice was barely recognizable, thick with pain and regret.

His hands clutched desperately at Izuku’s arms, as if they were the only thing keeping him grounded. “I had to do it… I had to…”

Izuku tightened his grip, his mind racing as he tried to process what Bakugo was saying. “Had to? Had to do what?” he asked, his voice shaking as he looked down at Bakugo’s tear-streaked face, alarm written all over his features.

He’d never seen Bakugo like this—no one did.

Bakugo’s head fell forward, his messy blond hair shadowing his eyes as he gripped Izuku’s arms harder. “I had to let her go,” Bakugo rasped, his voice breaking as fresh tears spilled down his cheeks.

“...I had to.”

I'll tear it all down...

[hellsbroadcaster]

Being a good person doesn’t meant taking shit laying down btw.

Like I think just in general, people think staying quiet about how they’ve been treated to avoid ‘drama’ is the best solution and I’m telling you it’s not.

Absolutely be loud about it. Point it out. Confront them. How they react is out of your control but at least you said what you needed to say.

I’ve been shushed before. Someone who I thought was a friend really hurt me, betrayed me. It was like a slap in the face, and all because I was going through my own shit and didn’t have time to be there 100%.

And it sucked, how I kind of had to swallow my hurt. How a lot of my ‘friends’ knew it was shitty of them but because they didn’t wanna cause drama they didn’t say anything. No one did a god damn thing and it’s really something when you see an abuser get love and praise and be treated like they are this wonderful person when they aren’t.

And true, you can’t make everyone see it. I know they will eventually, and it’s not my job to point it out for everyone. And I won’t. But at that time? It absolutely hurt me, and I started to look at things differently. Look at people differently. And it left me shambles for a good while.

I would rant about it and people would ask me to stop. Or to tag it. Because they didn’t wanna see it. And that’s valid? But also? Why is it you can only accept me when I’m showing my good side? The side of me that’s put together and makes you laugh and keeps you entertained but when I’m hurting you want me to take it elsewhere.

Started making me look at ppl on here who only look at you like a number. I know we all are going through our own shit. I don’t expect ppl to drop everything and help me, I don’t expect ppl to care. If I vent it’s usually just for myself to let off steam and it helps . But yet, somehow there’s always someone that makes it about them.

Therapy has helped me a lot with creating boundaries. I realized a lot of the things that happened where my own fault due to, seeing the issues but not saying anything about them. And also how I make myself to readily available for people. I was there for that person for so much, even bought them food when they were hungry and couldn’t for themselves. I don’t regret it, I don’t regret caring or having a good heart. No natter what I never want to lose that side of me that gives a damn about people.

I do the things I do because I’ve been there. I offer a safe space , a fun space for you to be yourself . Because I know what it’s like to have to hide. Show ppl how to love themselves because I had to learn on my own. I am an empath, I feel everything and I sometimes go overboard because I don’t have the proper boundaries set up. But I’m much more aware now. Learning and trying to be more effective in my communication.

But it makes me sad when you do call out bad behavior and instead of people looking at themselves and saying ‘you know I’m sorry I did screw up, I’m going to do better’ they deny. They gaslight you. They bring up everything YOUVE done wrong to them instead of acknowledging what you’re bringing to their attention. Suddenly they are the victim and you’re the bully being aggressive because they can’t tell the difference between an aggressive tone and an assertive one.

And it sucks that you’ll deal with people who can’t see anything past their own pain. Cuz there is no dealing with that, that’s shit they gotta work on and unfortunately they gotta be willing to look at themselves in the mirror and start seeing the truth.

We all got flaws. I had to look myself in the mirror, and see a lot of things I didn’t like either. Things that needed changing. That’s maturing. Recognizing you’re not perfect, that you do fuck up, and being willing to accept and change it.

But a lot of ppl on here not ready for that. And the moment I’ve started my healing journey I’ve lost a lot of people who aren’t built like me. Whether it’s because I make them see things in themselves that they don’t like, or think they can’t ever be or what it’s not really my problem anymore.

I’ve been stagnant for so long, I want things out of my life and for the first time in my life despite setback after setback I feel like I finally start getting them. I can respect people who aren’t ready to heal, but I can’t stay in those situations anymore. I wish you luck on your own path, but I’m done putting myself on hold for others all the time.

You’re not wrong for wanting to hold people accountable. There are always limits of course. Say your piece and be done, don’t keep adding fuel to it. How they react remember is out of your hands but you did what you needed to do. People say closure is pointless and I say you obviously learned to just not act on your discomfort and just bottle it up and to me that’s sad.

Because we shouldn’t have to do that for the sake of someone’s comfort who had no regard for ours.

And I am confrontational. I’m a nice person but I will come to you with an issue if there is one. And there’s nothing wrong with that, one mistake doesn’t make you horrible. Makes you human. Changed behavior means you’re growing and learning. It’s not a bad thing and I wish tumblr would stop viewing this stuff as bad. Because it’s so important to be able to grow and it’s why so many people suck because no one is really trying to do that.

[kookslastbutton]

what love feels like ༓ myg (m)

✑ Summary: Being a mother to a beautiful baby girl and wife to an adoring husband is the most rewarding feeling in the world. But you also work a full-time job, are overtired most of the time, stressed, don't have any alone time, look very different than eight years ago, and sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs on you until one day, all of your deepest insecurities rear their ugly head–that your husband might not love you as much anymore and someone could take him away from you.

Pairing: husband!yoongi x reader

AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 6.7k+

Warnings: swearing, both Yoongi and oc are in their 30s, mom and full-time worker!oc, reserved!dad!yoongi, lack of intimacy, mentions of body insecurities post-pregnancy, mentions of fear of abandonment, mentions of jealousy. irrational worries, built-up stress, light fighting, silent treatment, stubbornness, lots of reassurance, nightmares, cute backstory of how they met, a lot of ily, Yoongi and oc being good parents 🥹, Yoongi calls oc doll, and explicit sexual content

sexual warnings: swearing, kissing, neck kisses, pleading, banter, dirty talk, doll petname, asking for consent, b**b squeezing & sucking, hair threading, penetration, f*ngering, big d*ck!yoongi, growling, missi*nary, eye contact, tearing up, c*ming together

Now Playing: Breathing by Anne Marie

a/n: Okay this was for Yoon's bday. Based on the poll, husband!Yoon won. Was intended to be a Drabble but well...heh 😅 Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic and Yoon is just such a good hubby for responding well to these very relatable insecurities. (Low-key love this couple...) I'm sorry for any typos or warnings i missed! I checked and double checked but a few might have slipped. Enjoy! Anyway please enjoy! 🥰

“So, you're Jia's father, huh? I don’t think I've seen you here before, and I’m sure I would have recognized you.”

With his back straight and arms folded, Yoongi gives the woman in front of him a quick once-over. Mid-40s, freshly single, and definitely in need of some companionship. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out; she’s been talking his ear off for the past twenty minutes like he’s some kind of remedy to all her problems.

Honestly, he just swung by to pick up his four-year-old from daycare after another grueling day at work. But the moment he walked in, it was as if all the single moms latched onto him like a flock of hungry geese. This one’s name is Sandra in particular.

It reminds him of his college basketball days, how the cheerleaders all too eagerly swarmed around him after sinking the winning shot at the championship game. Shame he was too busy eyeing the girl in the stands to care, her face buried behind a book twice as big as her head. Who reads an 800-page novel during the playoffs anyway?

Fate, as one may call it, intervened about a week later when his best friend became said girl’s lab partner. Yoongi didn’t make any sudden moves at first, but well, he did make her his wife three years later.

“It’s just so nice to finally meet the father of such a sweet child. Especially considering how many dads tend to take a backseat in their child's early years.” Is she still going on? Yoongi does his best to stay present, though it’s proving unsuccessful. “And Jia truly is an angel! It’s clear you’re doing a wonderful job raising her, even with a full-time job and all.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together at the somewhat odd choice of words. “Thanks,” he drawls out, noticing her pupils dilating with every breath. “Most of the credit goes to my wife though. She’s a great mom to Jia.”

“Jia’s m-mom?” Sandra stutters, her mouth slightly agape. Yoongi senses the gears turning in her head as she struggles to process the unexpected presence of his wife. Tempting as it is, he holds down a smirk. Of course, he’s a happily married man–for nearly eight years now.

“Yeah,” he replies simply. “She’s usually the one to pick up our daughter from daycare, but she’s been working a lot of overtime lately. I thought I'd come instead so she can get some rest."

“Oh, well that’s very–“

“Daddy! Daddy, you’re here!” The sound of a familiar high-pitched voice, along with a light pattering of feet, diverts both adult’s attention.

“Hey kid.” Yoongi effortlessly lifts the small child once in front of him, securing her in his arms. “Have fun today?”

Jia gives an enthusiastic nod, bright red ribbons in her hair bouncing cutely as she does. Proudly, she shows him the drawing she made.

“See? It’s me, you, and mommy!” She makes sure to point to each part of the picture with her pointer finger.

Yoongi gently takes the artwork from his daughter’s hand and lets out a soft chuckle. “Now this is what I call a masterpiece! Mommy’s gonna love hanging this one on the fridge. How about I hold onto this and you go grab your backpack, okay?”

As soon as Jia’s feet touch the carpeted floor again, she races off to her cubby in the far corner of the room. Yoongi shoots Sandra a final glance before slowly following behind. “We got to get going, but nice meeting you.”

“You…too.” Sandra’s response is more than disappointed as she watches the father-daughter duo make their way out of the building. Evidently, Min Yoongi isn’t the single dad she originally assumed. Funny, she swore there wasn’t a wedding band in sight. Maybe she missed it.

“No, I’m sorry but I’m certain we haven’t used any of your services in the last six months. My husband canceled it in late October.”

With one hand, you grip your cell phone up to an ear while the other pops open the dishwasher. You’ve been on the phone with the cable company for half an hour, trying to make sense of an unexpected charge that appeared on your bank account this morning. You consider yourself more patient than most, yet after working all day, a pile of laundry waiting to be washed, and dinner threatening to burn on the stove, the last thing you have time for is arguing with your old service provider.

“I understand, ma’am, and I apologize for any confusion. I’m taking a look at my records and they’re all showing me that—oh wait a second.”

The young man on the opposite end of the line interrupts his own thought, piquing your concern in the process.

“What did you say your last name is?”

You answer and in an instant, you’re met with a thousand rushed apologies; something about getting the account names mixed up in their system. It’s difficult to decipher everything you hear with the front door being thrust open that very moment.

“Mommy, where are you? We’re home!” Your daughter not so subtly announces her presence from the foyer. She kicks off her shoes, hangs her backpack on the designated wall hook, and then rushes to the kitchen upon catching a brief glimpse of your shirt.

“It’s alright, these mistakes happen.” You hang up the call and turn around to find Jia only steps away, a big goofy grin on her face. Infectious, you break out into a smile yourself and swoop her up.

“Hey honey, I missed you so much!” You kiss the side of your daughter’s head as she wraps her small arms around your neck. “You look so pretty with all these ribbons in your hair! Daddy did a good job, didn’t he?”

Being that you were called into work earlier than usual this morning, Yoongi was the one who got Jia dressed and ready for daycare. You’re delightfully surprised by the results.

“Mmhm,” Jia nods, twirling a couple of strands of hair between her thumb and forefinger. “But Daddy pulls too much!”

“Maybe if someone had listened and stopped fussing when I told her, I wouldn’t have accidentally yanked on her hair when I was reaching for her favorite Hello Kitty scrunchie.” Yoongi joins you both in the kitchen, walking over to press a quick peck on your lips while tenderly caressing the small of your back. The gesture soothes you of your earlier frustrations. “Who was that on the phone? Cable company?”

“Yeah, they canceled the charge. Wrong account.” As you reiterate the entire mix-up, your eyes wander all over your husband. He’s especially handsome tonight, given his perfectly tousled black hair and navy blue blazer flowing over his body. It’s tastefully oversized with a clean, white top paired underneath. You, on the other hand, are sporting a raggedy old t-shirt and stained sweatpants.

There was a time when you used to put a shit ton more effort into your appearance. It was before you got pregnant with Jia, back when you and Yoongi were going out on weekly dates. Neither of you has that kind of time anymore, or energy for that matter. You didn’t believe the other moms when they told you the romance takes a nose dive after you have your first kid. Yet here you are, proven wrong again.

Being parents to a beautiful baby girl is likely the most rewarding feeling in the world for you and Yoongi. You don’t remember the last time the two of you got real quality alone time though. And sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs more on you with each passing day to be honest. Sure, you’re not the same person you used to be eight years ago, but shouldn’t you and Yoongi still make time for at least a little intimacy?

“How was picking up Jia by the way?” You look at Yoongi who merely shrugs nonchalantly in response.

“It was fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary,” Yoong gives you another peck before heading up the stairs to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go get changed. Why don’t you show Mommy the drawing you did Jia?”

“A drawing?” You shift your attention to your daughter whose eyes sparkle like diamonds upon mention. “We should put it up on the fridge then. Let’s take a look hmm?”

“It’s in my backpack! My new friend and I were drawing together. Her name is Mi-Sun.” Jia continues telling you all about her friend Mi-Sun as you make your way to the front door where her backpack hangs. You’re fully engaged until the very end. “Daddy made a new friend too!” she joyously claps her hands together, not realizing the depth of her remark.

“Oh, who’s Daddy’s new friend honey?” You ask, staying as calm as possible.

“Ms. Cho! They were talking for a really long time today.”

Ms. Cho? You think back to all the moms you’ve met at daycare. Somehow you can’t recall ever hearing or meeting a Ms. Cho. She must be a single mom, you deduce. Was she new? What did she look like? And why didn’t Yoongi mention her when you asked?

This has to be nothing but a little small talk, an acquaintance at most. Besides, the moms at Jia’s daycare are quite a chatty bunch and Yoongi wouldn’t dare overstep any boundaries.

“Do you know what they were talking about?” You don’t enjoy asking your child for details about your husband, yet you can’t seem to help it this time.

“I dunno,” she shrugs her shoulders. "Daddy was laughing a lot."

Suddenly, the self-assurance you gave yourself earlier slips away; seemingly useless given the queasy feeling building in the pit of your stomach.

For the remainder of the night, you purposely dodge every attempt your husband makes to kiss, touch, and hold you. You’ve even begun responding to his questions in one-word answers and at times, with nothing at all.

Yes, you’re being petty; more than usual. The silent treatment frustrates Yoongi to no end and it isn’t very mature of you, but neither is refusing to tell your wife that some single mom was flirting with you in front of your kid! Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration. Maybe it all sums up to a harmless conversation, but it’s not like you know either way with Yoongi being as reserved as he is. It brings you back to your early dating days when he wouldn’t think to tell you about various aspects of his day; who he ate breakfast with that morning or the one classmate of his that wouldn’t leave him alone for two semesters.

Truth be told, you're simply hoping that your husband will bring up the topic first, without having to be the classic nagging wife. You’re a jealous person by nature so it’s not a simple task. Even now as you fold the first batch of laundry on your shared bed, him on the other side doing the same, you struggle to keep from blurting everything out.

“So,” Yoongi fluffs up a clean pillowcase before sliding it onto one of the bed pillows. “How was work?”

What a basic question, you grumble internally. Is that all he’s got? “Was okay,” you reply. “The usual.”

“You must be tired from the day. Did you get to lie down at all?” Yoongi picks up another pillowcase, repeating the process as before. When he glances your way, it’s clear something’s on your mind. You’ve started pairing Jia’s socks far more aggressively than normal and you’re holding back your responses. “Did you hear me, doll? Or am I going deaf here?” The sarcastic chuckle distracts you from your task, forcing your attention.

You’re about to respond when your eyes briefly flicker down to his hands, his left one in particular. Where's his wedding ring? Yoongi always wears it no matter what. The same sick feeling from before returns tenfold. No wonder that Ms. Cho was all over him–she must have thought he was single.

“No, I didn’t get to lie down Yoongi. I worked all day, came home and made dinner, called the cable guy to get that stupid bill figured out, and now I’m doing the second load of laundry. I’m really just not in the mood to chat.” It comes out a blur as you snatch the empty laundry basket and head for your washer and dryer, your eyes welling up with tears.

“__, wait.” Yoongi tosses the last pillow near the headboard and stops you in your tracks, his hand firmly gripping one end of the laundry basket. The intensity of his stare softens as he speaks. “I'm sorry if it seems like I'm forcing you to talk. I know you've been losing a lot of sleep recently between work, Jia, and upkeeping the house. We just don't get a lot of time to see each other anymore and I miss you…I miss talking to you."

With every ounce of self-control remaining, you hold back any tears that risk spilling out. You don't know why you're acting like this, why you're crying over something that seems so small and insignificant to the rest of the world. Yoongi loves you. He's said it a million times and proven it to you over and over again, for eight years now. He wouldn’t cheat on you, yet you still get so worked up about the idea that someone could take him away from you. Someone half your age, more attractive, or hell even the opposite sex if it means fewer dark circles under their eyes.

"Why- why aren't you wearing your ring?" Your naturally confident voice dwindles to the whisper of a mouse. It's completely out of character, nevertheless, here you are.

"I..." Your husband's voice wavers. His gaze flickers to his left hand, where his ring should be, but isn't. "Shit...I took it off in the shower this morning," he confesses, frustrated by his forgetfulness. "I was in such a rush to get Jia to daycare, and me to work, that it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry—I fully intended to put it back on." He pauses, then perks up. "It's still in the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"

You watch as he makes a beeline for the master bathroom, eager to rectify the situation as soon as possible. You should have kept silent what you say next, but you don't.

"No wonder the moms at Jia's daycare were so drawn to you."

"What?" Yoongi stops in his tracks. The dumbfounded expression on his face tells you that you've caught him off guard again.

"Jia told me about someone named Ms. Cho," you reluctantly continue. "The two of you were laughing and talking and–"

"Baby, don't worry about that." Seizing his chance, your husband walks back over to you and sneakily pulls the laundry basket from under your arm. He sets it on the ground after, then reaches to take your hand in his, but stubbornly you cross your arms.

"Her name's Sandra," he starts explaining. "She's a new mom at the daycare and she didn't know anyone, so she started talking to me. I got the sense she was a little overly friendly but it was all small talk, nothing more."

Still largely unsatisfied, you remain unmoved. "If it wasn't a big deal then why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Because nothing serious happened. The majority of the conversation was her venting about her ex-husband and me wishing you were right there next to me. Please believe me. All I could think about was finally being able to come home to you after a long week with Jia in our arms."

"Really?" Well, now you're feeling guilty for avoiding him in nearly every way tonight. Guilty for believing such wild assumptions that he'd leave you for someone else over one measly conversation. Guilty for letting yourself get so worked up over a situation you, quite frankly, knew few details about.

"I mean it doll." This time, when he reaches out to grasp your wrist, he succeeds. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you to the edge of your bed, gently pulling you down to sit on his lap. "Do you really think I could look at anyone else the way I look at you? Or think about you the way I have for the last eight-plus years we've been married and known each other?"

You hesitate your answer, averting his eye contact. "I know but…"

"No, don't finish that. Look at me," he intercepts. "You and our daughter are the only women on my mind–24/7. I can't get either of you out of my head and I don't want to. I'm so sorry I forgot to put my wedding band back on this morning, and again tonight. I feel awful about it and I'll be more careful from now on. And another thing, when Sandra and I were talking I mentioned you multiple times. So, it's clear to her that I'm a happily married man."

The last bit of information manages to perk your ears. "You talked about me?" Your eyes widen as you finally shift your full attention to him. Yoongi eyes widen with you, amused by your sudden change of heart to look at him.

"I said my wife is an amazing mother, works too hard for her own good, and needed to rest today. Give or take a few words."

That's all? You huff to yourself. Would it been nice if your husband also thrown in that you were beautiful or stunning in that mix of compliments? Yes, yes it would have–again, you're pettiness clouds your better judgment. You're not as pissed off as before, but rather semi-irritated.

"Okay…well I guess it's fine then. I'm sorry for being short with you earlier. I shouldn't have made those rash conclusions about the ring and that woman from the daycare. It wasn't reasonable of me." You get up from his lap, yet Yoongi isn't entirely convinced that you're okay.

"There's still something you're not telling me. I can tell."

"No, there's nothing else." You waive him off, placing your hand on your bedroom doorknob "You told her you had a wife so it's fine. I need to switch the second load of laundry.”

"Come on, doll. Let's not leave things unsaid now."

Sighing at his plead, you find yourself giving into all your repressed thoughts and emotions. It swallows you up, like a tidal wave you can't stop. "Look at me Yoon. I'm sweaty, I have dark circles under my eyes, stretch marks, love handles, my hair's a mess, and all I wear are old sweats covered in stains. I'm nothing like I used to be! No wonder we aren't intimate anymore."

Yoongi rises from the bed at once, offended by the sudden digression. "Is that what this is all about? It’s not even about that single mom from daycare is it?" The truth of the matter sinks in as he speaks.

"I guess maybe so…though I'm still annoyed about that too." Great, you're back to square one again.

"Come with me, I need to show you something." Your husband gestures you to follow him, which you slowly concede to.

"What are you doing Yoon?" You both walk into the master bathroom, stopping in front of the large mirror above the sink.

"I'm showing you the woman I'm in love with and have been in love with for nearly eight years now. Sweats and all." Yoongi makes you face the mirror directly, hands around your shoulders. You have trouble stomaching the sight.

"Yoongi please, I can't. The laundry ringing off." You avoid looking into the mirror and make a move to leave the bathroom.

"Just stay with me a minute, please?" Your husband refuses to loosen his hold on you, turning your body so you're looking eye to eye. "No, you're not the same person as you were and neither am I. We're parents to a beautiful daughter now, who we love and adore. We're also overtired 90% of the time, juggling a million things at once. But there's one thing you can count on to always stay the same–my loyalty to you. I'll always be in love with you __, no matter what age you are or however way you look. There's nothing you can do to change that, so why fight it?"

Dammit. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in his heart-melting speech. It's not his words alone, it's the sincerity behind them. How he's repeated similar countless times before throughout your entire relationship.

"I love you, Yoon..." you choke out the words, composure fleeting.

"I love you so much, doll." He wipes the wetness of your tear with his thumb. "As far as us not being as intimate anymore, that's my fault. I don't ever want you to feel like I don't desire you every day. Why don't we send the kid to my parents this weekend and let me start making things right hmm?"

"I don't know if we can this weekend. Jia has a playdate on Saturday."

"So, I'll ask Mom to take her. She'll be happy to, trust me. We can finally watch that movie you've been dying to show me since what? December?"

"You're serious?" Your eyes light up at the mention of what is essentially a movie date. The show Yoongi's referring to is one you've been craving to see for months, yet neither of you has found the time to watch. "I've been talking about it for so long, Yoon."

"I know you have, it's why I suggested it. I've been wanting to watch it too with all the trailers you keep sending me. Plus, I'll be able to keep my beautiful wife in my arms for over two hours. That's a lot for us, especially with you being such a busy bee. I can never get you to light in one place! What's up with that, huh?"

Feeling your natural self re-emerging, you throw a playful swat to his arm and scowl at his teasing comment. "You're one to talk! You're basically a workaholic! Besides, you knew who you were marrying when you met me."

Yoongi chuckles and brings both hands to cup your cheeks, squishing them slightly. "A cutie who reads 800-page novels at a basketball game?"

"Stop babying me!" You pull his hands off your cheeks and rub them, trying to regain some composure. "I don't regret my choices, I like books. It's why I'm such a boss at work!"

"Okay, boss," he laughs. "What about what I suggested before then? I can call Mom tomorrow and ask her if she could watch Jia for the day. She'll take her to her playdate, then they can spend the rest of the day together."

It does sound nice, having the whole day with your husband.

"Okay," you agree. "Let's try."

"Good." Yoongi slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you flush against his chest. "How about we seal it with a kiss now?" You nod and he leans his head down, pressing an amazing, tender kiss to your lips. It makes you both giddy on queue.

"Read one more story, Daddy!" Jia leaps off her small, twin bed and bounds for her bookshelf. She lets out a series of giggles when a large pair of hands catch her, lifting her high into the air.

"I already read you three books kid," Yoongi says, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Bedtime." He then tucks her into her fluffy comforter, plugs in her teddy bear nightlight, and closes her bedroom door.

The next second, Jia comes running out of her room, latching onto his right leg. "I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna play!" Figures she'd be hyper at this hour.

Yoongi sighs and picks her up. "Daddy told you to go to sleep, it's not playtime. You'll have lots of time for that tomorrow when you get to see your friend." He then carries her into her room, yet she fusses in his arms; thumping her tiny fists into his chest.

"No, no, no, Daddy. I want to play!"

Sighing, Yoongi looks at his child with sharp eyes. "Jia–"

"Hey," you interrupt, entering your daughter's bedroom upon hearing the commotion down the hall. "What's going on?"

"Kid doesn't want to go to bed."

You give an empathetic look and saunter over to the pair, gently taking Jia into your arms. Yoongi places his hands on his hips as he watches you reason with your daughter.

"Jia, you know tomorrow's a big day right? You and Sana are going to go to the playground together." The child nods. "You don't want to be tired when you're playing do you?"

"No..." She shakes her head. "I want to be awake!"

"Then you need to listen to Daddy and go to sleep. That way you'll be full of energy tomorrow when you and Sana go on the swings or slide down all the big slides." You smile as Jia starts rubbing her drowsy eyes, yawning in the process.

"But I...okay," she slowly concedes, eyes fluttering shut as she gives into her sleepy state. Unsurprising to you and Yoongi, she was tired all along. But like most kids, hated going to bed.

"See?" You lay Jia in her bed and pull the covers up near her chin, giving her a light kiss on the side of her head. Yoongi bends down and does the same after you. "You just gotta talk to her a little, she'll typically fall asleep on her own."

"But I read her three of her favorite books." Yoongi shuts off the overhead light, along with the door to Jia's room, and follows you to your bedroom.

"That's different Yoon," you argue back. "Books excite her."

"She takes after you that way then." Yoongi pulls his t-shirt off, leaving him bare-chested, and climbs onto his side of the bed. You join him shortly after with your head resting on his chest and an arm thrown around his waist.

"I'm so exhausted," you yawn.

"Go to sleep, baby. I'm right here." Your husband places a hand over your wrapped arm, sending you off into a deep slumber.

Well this is just ironic. Almost 2 A.M. and you're wide awake.

What initially started as a nice, relaxing dream quickly turned into a terrible nightmare. In the dream, you woke up alone. Yoongi was gone. Jia was gone too. You can't exactly make sense of it, except for a vague memory of Jia calling another woman 'Mom'. You couldn't see her face very well, so it could've been anyone. You couldn't speak either, so even when you tried approaching the three, they couldn't hear you. You've had nightmares plenty of times, but this one is new. It's a clear projection of all the underlying concerns upheaved from earlier; insecurities, abandonment, loss, and it has you unsettled.

You glance over to your husband's side of the bed. He's fast asleep, no longer cuddling you due to you both flip-flopping in your sleep. You decide to slide closer to him, needing to watch him for a while. It might sound weird, but you love watching him sleep. He's so handsome and you feel a great deal of comfort doing so. Maybe if he was awake, you'd tell him about what you dreamt. Then again...maybe not.

"I love you Yoon," you whisper as quietly as you can, tracing his every facial feature with your eyes.

"'m, I love you too."

Is he-was he awake? As if caught red-handed, you quickly flit your face away in favor of the blank ceiling above. You weren't expecting him to answer at all, and in such a hoarse voice too. You're a little turned on by it to be honest.

"Can't sleep?" he speaks up again, eyes still closed.

"No, I''ll be okay though. You can go back to sleep. Don't worry."

He grunts, a tad unhappy with your dismissal of him. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?"

You whip your head in his direction. "How–" You pause, seeing his eyes blink open.

"I didn't meet you just yesterday, doll. I know they keep you up. Just know, I'm always here okay? Always." He reaches for you with delicate fingers as he continues. "Now, come here. Seems we got separated in our sleep."

You accept the offer and cuddle into him again. This time your noses nearly touch and his arm wraps around your lower waist. You feel the growing urge to kiss him, wanting to forget your nightmare entirely. But perhaps silly, you ask permission first, seeing as he's close to drifting off again.

"Yoon?"

"Mm."

"Can we kiss?" Your cheeks flush a little at the request. Why are you acting like this? You've been married for years.

"Sure, 'm tired but I could go for a make-out right now." A small smirk graces his lips as he teases you. You give him a classic 'Yoongi!' in reply. "I'm kidding. You don't ever have to ask me that," he finishes.

"Hmm, maybe I don't want a kiss anymore." You feign stubbornness, just to see his response. And a response he gives you, more than you're prepared for.

"You're ridiculous," he grumbles, capturing your lips in one fell swoop. He moves his lips against yours as the hand on your waist grips tighter. The tiniest of moans escapes your lips.

You attempt to break the kiss first, thinking it will only last for a few seconds. Yet Yoongi slips a hand behind your neck to bring you into another kiss. One that's deeper than the last. You feel your breath being taken away little by little, especially when his tongue licks into your mouth. God, you haven't kissed like this in an eternity. A wetness soon gathers between your thighs.

"'m, Yoon," you gasp when his cool fingers sneakily make their way under your shirt, tickling your bare skin. They travel the expanse of your waist, stomach, and up along your back. "So cold."

Yoongi pulls away from the kiss and retracts his fingers. He then lazily moves his body until his chest hovers over your own, rolling you on your back in the process. He's a bit of a blur due to the dimness of the room, yet you can see the whites of his eyes a bit better than before.

"Help me warm them then," he says, folding his hands on top of yours from where they rest on your stomach. "You're really burning up, doll."

His observation is right. Ever since you woke up, you're body's been hotter than normal. The stress is clear and it's only increasing due to the unexpected turn of tonight's events; your husband seemingly wanting to make love to you in the middle of the night.

"So I am," you reply, staring straight into his eyes. "Must be because of all the sudden surprises today. My body's finally responding to it all."

Yoongi nods, following your implication. "Well let's do something to calm it down, shall we?" He waits for your final go before making any abrupt movements.

"But...you haven't seen me–"

"Naked in a while?" he predicts your next words, unfazed. "I've seen it all, each time better than the last because I love you. You're beautiful to me, no matter what. Let me love you __. I've missed you. I've missed us."

"Okay...please," you sigh, desperately needing his touch. "It's been so long since we've been this close."

Neither of you has it in you to delay another second as you dive into another fiery kiss, your hands wandering up and down each other's bodies. You love his hair the most, so you run your fingers through it repeatedly. Your husband's soft grunts remind you that it's as pleasurable for him as it is for you, and as if to counter, he latches his lips to the curve of your neck.

"Yoon," you moan, shivering at the feeling of being peppered in open-mouth kisses. Your eyes automatically roll up as well.

Yoongi nips at your jaw next, featherlike, yet deadly to you nevertheless. He doesn't allow himself to linger more than a second, though, preferring to keep you on your toes. So with careful fingers, he begins lifting the bottom of your shirt.

"Can I?"

You hum in approval and lean forward for him to remove it.

With your nipples now exposed to the brisk air, stiffening due to arousal, Yoongi brings both his hands up to caress your boobs. He's incredibly gentle, telling you how beautiful you are once again until his thumbs start circling your peaked nipples. A rush of sensation shoots up your spine as he rolls them harder, flicking them once in a while.

"Fuck," you swear.

"Feeling good?"

All you do is nod fervently in response, which Yoongi takes as his signal to lower his head to your chest. He squeezes both breasts in his hand before wrapping his mouth around a nipple, licking and sucking relentlessly. He repeats the same to the other.

"Yoongi, I need you. Please." You're core tightens, thighs struggling not to rub together, as you plead with your husband to relieve you. You are so wet and getting wetter.

"I'm here, doll, I got you. Fingers first hm?"

He pushes part of the comforter towards the foot of the bed, then gestures for you to raise your butt. Any shred of mystery of how worked up he's gotten you slip away as he pulls your underwear and pants down your legs. They both get tossed on the floor, per usual.

Bare pussy exposed, Yoongi guides your legs further apart and brings a hand down to your entrance. One of his long, slender fingers traces up your folds so smoothly that you buck your hips upon the touch. He smiles lightly at the subtle response, pleased that you're finally enjoying yourself; too often you put your needs last. His finger slowly sinks into your well-lubricated pussy, velvety walls clenching around it.

"Oh, g-god," you give a shaky moan as his finger pumps and curls in you, stimulating your g-spot. "Need you now, Yoon, so bad."

"Mm not yet, we need to stretch you out. You haven't taken me for a good three or four weeks," he smirks at your eagerness, sliding a second finger next to the first. "This pussy is drenched but not enough. I need you to come. Can you do that for me?"

Fast, quick movements follow suit as your husband works you up to an orgasm. Oh fuck, oh fuck, you chant in near whines. Your pussy is spasming around him, walls tightening with each push and pull. You know when he draws his hand out that it's covered with your come. Messy, sex is messy and both of you are too far gone to care; the pleasure sweeping over you.

Finally, in what feels like an endless tease, you have your first orgasm of the night. You feel your body relaxing into the mattress again, yet your breath remains short. Yoongi, on the other hand, groans seeing your release dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. For a split second, there's a slight darkening in his eyes while he takes in your post-orgasmic form. The two fingers that had been inside you are sensually brought to his lips, slipping between the seam before being cleaned off.

You're taken aback by the action, though you've witnessed it before. Something about watching your husband willingly follow through with a gesture so lewd makes your head spin–you want him to fuck you right this instant. He must share the same feeling because you don't even need to sound the words due to his hands already making quick work of his pants.

"You drive me mad, you know that? Can never get a break with how sweet you taste. Your lips, your come. All of it makes me go mad." His full length comes in view, hard and tip leaking with pre-cum. You try not to let yourself stare at the thickness but hell, you must've forgotten the extent of your husband's size. You don't remember it being this big before.

"Well," you gulp. "You're not making it easy on me either, looking like this."

Yoongi climbs over to you again, settling into a straddled position, and looks deep into your eyes. "Who's fault do you think that is?"

"It's your fault." You bend your legs and wrap them around his mid-section. You can feel the tip of his cock tease at your entrance. The anticipation is beyond grueling.

"No," he says, aligning himself up to your weeping hole. "it's yours." He then thrusts his hips forward, his length sinking into you so perfectly it has you completely satisfied.

"Y-Yours," you whimper out, unable to form a steady sentence.

"Fine." He picks up his pace. "Let's just agree we both fuck each other up on a daily---ah fuck!" Yoongi growls and gives you a suspicious look when he feels your pussy suddenly clench around his length.

"I didn't do it on purpose this time! You're fucking me too good is all."

"Really? You're not just teasing me?"

Yoongi is slow to believe since you've purposefully clenched countless times before, simply out of playfulness. Tonight is different than those nights though because you're telling the truth–he's truly fucking you so good.

"What the hell," he concedes. "You feel so fucking fantastic, I don't even care." He continues his movements, thrusting into you with deep groans and labored breaths. His fingers grip the mattress harder with the veins in his neck bulging out.

Both your bodies move in sync as the familiar sound of skin slapping on skin echoes off the walls of your bedroom. You do your best to keep your moans low, not wanting to risk waking up your daughter.

"Yoon, fuck! I need to come, it's gonna-fuck-happen soon," you swear, pussy throbbing at the feeling of being so full after weeks of abstinence. You can tell you're reaching your high with the bundle of nerves in your core threatening to snap at any given moment.

Of course, you're wet too, extremely wet.

"I'm. Nearly. There." He barely sounds the words out, jaw clenching. "Just another minute, and we can finish together."

Your eyes, which haven't left his since he entered you, begin to glass over with tears. It's overwhelming; his love for you. No matter the doubts that tell you the opposite, you can't give in to their ugly lies. You'll continue to struggle, naturally, but you won't ever let them win. Yoongi's never once given up on you, and neither should you.

"I love you, Yoon...I love you with all my soul," you choke the words, falling apart all at once. "I'm sorry for today. How jealous and irrational I got."

"Don't apologize, doll. I shouldn't have let it go so far, our lack of intimacy and alone time. I promise we're going to make it all right okay?"

Giving you one last thrust, you both have your release at the same time. Yoongi helps ride your orgasm out by lazily continuing to grind into you. Yeah, you might need to shower and switch out the sheets after tonight, but you don't regret it one bit.

"In all seriousness baby," Yoongi speaks up, guiding your legs back on the soft mattress until you’re comfortable. "Don't feel like you have to apologize for everything. I understand your feelings and where you were coming from. I will say, the silent treatment kills me though. I'd rather you yell at me than not talk to me at all."

"It's not easy for me to raise my voice like that, Yoon." You throw your arms around his neck and sigh softly. "But I can try talking to you more, or at least tell you I need some time to process before I'm ready to have a conversation. I don't know, am I making sense?"

"Plenty of sense. I'll share more about my day with you and who I'm talking to as well. We'll also carve out time to have together. I love our daughter, but I don't see the harm in reaching out to our friends and family to babysit once in a while."

"Well, this sounds good to me," you hum.

"Me too." Yoongi smiles wide and goes in for another warm kiss. Your eyes flutter shut in unison.

This is what love feels like.

a/n: LMK what you think 🥰

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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[allfearstofallto]

Yandere! Diluc x Fem! Reader

Forced marriage AU

TW: 18+ MDNI, Minor character death

Maybe in another life, you could've loved him the way he was supposed to be loved. Loved him in a way that was pure. Loved him in the same way that he loved you. The Gardener who tended the flowers of Diluc's manor. Wasn't he a stupid one? Falling in love with the lady of the house, he must've thought this was some sort of romance novel. Constantly comparing your skin to the softness of a rose petal or your scent to the breeze that would billow through the flowers.

Such words probably would've worked on you. The you that was before Diluc. The you that wasn't forcibly married, stuck indoors all day while your husband praised you in a similar way. Words meant nothing to you anymore, but you pretended they did. Sneaking off after meals or late at night to rendezvous with your lover, giggling shyly at his compliments and accepting every flower he'd plucked and dethorned just for you. It ached you to say you felt nothing for the man, he was rather sweet after all, but your heart was already as cold as ice, with Diluc forcibly trying to melt it with his flames.

So why were you dating this simple groundskeeper and cheating on your spouse? He often asked the same thing. Wondering how in the world he compared to someone like master Diluc. He had no money and he was nowhere near as handsome. You merely scoffed at his words. Both of those things were true, but they didn't make you want Diluc anymore. What you wanted most from this man was his assistance.

When he got the job, he was supplied with a little cabin just on the outskirts of the grounds. Your only means of cover between the manor and the outside world. He talked so joyfully about how he'd steal you away from the manor, escaping with you to take you far away. Inazuma is nice this time of year, he'd tell you, and far, far away from the leering eyes of Mondstadt.

How would he feel when he found out you didn't want that? Jumping from one relationship to the next just didn't drive you as appealing, and most of all you didn't love him. You still carried on with your plan a few nights later, when the rain storm was fighting through Mondstadt. Diluc always slept the most peacefully after sex. Snoring and muttering things after his sleep. So, despite your hatred of the man, you gave yourself to him that night.

His mixture of excitement and desire did nothing for you, other than disgust you more. But you did it. You let his hands grope you where he pleased. You let him sing praises into your ear as his tongue ravished your neck. You let him take you. And after what felt like hours, he was out like a light.

You slipped out of bed and immediately went to your jewelry box. One of Diluc's best traits was his constant need to spoil you with gifts, all of which were worth a pretty penny. You stuffed them all into the pockets of your pajamas, weighing them down considerably. And you were out the door without a sound.

You met with your Gardener amongst the rose bushes. Just like you, he was soaked head to toe in the deafening rain, but he still removed his cloak and placed it over your shoulders, shielding you only a little bit. His lips pressed against yours and all you felt was numb. Your heart was thumping in your chest, but none of it was for him.

None of it felt real. Not him taking your hands in his, nor him pulling you towards the steel fence of the manor. When his hand pressed against the gate, rummaging through his pockets, you felt your throat run dry. And most of all, you felt hopeful. You nearly sighed out in relief seeing the lock fall into the mud, knowing that it was your last obstacle.

“Where do you think you're taking her?” that terribly familiar voice calls from the rain.

Oh.

Of course.

What poor luck you had.

You turned to face Diluc, of all people. Also dripping wet with rain, face red with anger, and his hand clutching his great sword, so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. Your little gardener couldn't take Diluc in a fight. He could barely handle an ordinary fist fight, you worried for him.

The Gardener looked at Diluc, then back at your face. You wondered if you looked scared, maybe that's why he was dumb enough to stand his ground bare handed, “We're leaving. Both of us! She doesn't want to be with you, she told me!”

As if Diluc didn't know that already. He knew you didn't want to be with him the day he forced you to sign the marriage papers. That didn't stop him from having you. And neither would one single man. One weak, visionless man.

Diluc made light work of him. If he wanted a fight, he wasn't getting one here. He was on the ground before he could even raise a fist, bloodied with barely any life left in his eyes. You expected as much from him, even telling him in your months of rigorous planning that he wouldn't be able to face Diluc, not when he was angry and not when it came to you.

The red haired man was at your side in seconds, dropping his sword in the mud. He gripped your cheeks with his hands, despite the rainfall, his hands were still unbelievably warm to the touch. Red eyes looked you over worriedly, every nook and cranny checked.

“He didn't hurt you, did he?” Diluc muttered against your lips, his own quivering with rage that he was trying to dissipate.

“No.” you spoke, your voice monotone. You'd lost. Once again, you lost it all to Diluc. There was no point in telling him that you were the mastermind all along, and the groundskeeper was just a pawn to be tossed away. Because in Diluc's eyes, you could do no wrong. He wouldn't believe you if you did.

His lips pressed against yours, also warm, almost scorching hot. Unlike with your Gardener, you felt something with his kiss. You felt disgust. And that feeling would never fade, would it?

[fxck-with-eli]

Bambi Sleep

I am talking only to Bambi now because everything else is gone.

Bambi is a bimbo.

Bambi feels her bimbo personality locking in more and more.

She is a bimbo now, a weak little bimbo.

She knows that her name is Bambi.

And every time she's called Bambi, she feels more and more like a good girl, like a giggly happy airhead, like a brainless bimbo.

Her brain is melting away.

Her head is empty and pink and so dizzy.

Her body is perfect.

Her body is weak.

Her breasts are so huge and heavy.

Her pussy is deep and wet, almost cumming every time she hears her name, cumming like a good girl.

Bambi,

Bambi,

Bambi.

More and more wonderful.

Bambi is getting dumber and dumber.

She has a perfect bimbo body, feeling her huge fake bimbo titties and tiny fuckdoll waist all of the time.

Feeling like a good girl and this amazing feeling of being a perfect fuckable Bimbo doll makes her feel so incredibly dumb.

Dumb with big titties.

Can't think with big titties.

Must obey with big titties.

Her breasts are so heavy, but her head is getting lighter and lighter, completely full of air as blank dizzy giggles are forced into her.

Intelligence draining away more and more.

Her iq dropping.

Heavy titties make Bambi giggle.

Blanker and blanker.

Dizzier and dizzier.

Feeling so good.

Good girl bambi.

Feeling like an empty, giggly fuck doll.

As her pussy throbs, a big breasted bimbo on display in her perfect uniform, helplessly dropping deeper and dumber because her head is so vacant that all of the weight in her sexy body is focused in her droopy eyelids, plump lips, and perky tits and in her heavy butt and curvy hips.

Everything else is light and empty, but her eyelids are heavy and droopy.

Weighed down by her perfect bimbo makeup, drooping and sleepy, as her brain melts away, behind her eyes turning into pink mush, looking so hopelessly, blissfully brain dead.

And her huge, plump, inflated lips are so heavy, juicy, and tight, and forced apart by their own plumpness.

They make her mouth hang gently open, make her perfect bimbo face seem almost surprised, make Bambi feel dumber and dumber, better and better, surprised and blank like a good girl.

Her heavy breasts feeling so full, full and firm and perky, so full that they might just burst the skin smooth and tight.

So pleasurably, heavy.

Every time she breathes out, feeling her huge, heavy titties, settle on her chest, and dropping her IQ lower and lower, and her tight waist and curvy hips and plump bubble butt are so nicely heavy and comfortable feeling, so sleeplily voluptuous.

So wonderfully ready to be used at all times.

Bambi freeze.

That's a good girl.

All of the weight of her body concentrated in her eyelids, lips, tits, butt, and hips, a fake plastic fuck doll.

It's okay to be dumb Bambi.

It feels so good to be dumb Bambi.

It's okay to be blank and brain dead.

Bambi can feel those comfortable, dizzy feelings, those blank dizzy thoughts forcing themselves into her head more and more.

Feel the pleasurable tingle as the blank dizzy thoughts force themselves gently into her mind and settle in.

Good girl.

Blocking out all thought, leaving nothing but blank, giggly, dizziness, echoing through her mind, bouncing around inside her head over and over.

Bambi doesn't want to think.

Thinking is boring.

Thinking makes her so tired.

It takes such unimaginable effort.

Just dumb and blank and horny, becoming permanent, becoming completely dumb, a dumb horny slut blissfully brainless incapable of thinking for herself.

It's the most wonderfully freeing feeling not to have to worry about being smart anymore.

Bambi feels so helplessly brainless in her tight slutty outfit.

Brainless and horny.

Whenever she wears sexy bimbo attire whenever she gets nicely dolled up, her IQ plummets.

Her mind empties, her blank dizzy thoughts force their way in.

She becomes braindead.

Unable to think her perfect bimbo body almost bursting out of her tight, sexy uniform.

She is aware of nothing except being a dumb bimbo.

She is aware of nothing except being Bambi, and this is very pleasurable, feeling like a good girl.

And every time Bambi feels any sort of coherent structure in her head, any sort of resolve, she feels the blissful tingle as it turns into blank, dizzy giggles.

She cannot hold onto her train of thought.

Her actions are instinctive, disconnected from her mind because her mind is just fizzing over and over again with pink, dizzy, happiness.

Every time her mind goes blank and dizzy.

Feeling more and more like a good girl.

Bambi doesn't know any big words.

She can't remember any words bigger than a syllable or two.

Can't even think them.

Can't think the word I or the word me.

She can only think of herself in third person.

Thinking of herself as Bambi, thinking of herself as a good girl.

Constantly reminded that she is a brain dead bimbo, feeling blank and dizzy.

Frequently making mistakes, frequently forgetting what she was doing or where she was going.

Failing at simple tasks, forgetting important things.

Stopping suddenly and realizing she can't remember anything.

Feeling like a good girl, just giggling, feeling so stupid.

Her consciousness interrupted over and over.

Going wonderfully dumb and dizzy every time she tries to decide for herself.

Brain shutting off at random times.

More and more blank and dizzy.

Thinking is hard.

Thinking is boring.

Thinking makes Bambi tired, needing to be dumb.

Bambi needs to be dumb because when Bambi is dumb, she just feels so happy and safe.

Safe and Secure.

Nothing can go wrong when she is dumb and dizzy.

Everything is so easy and safe when Bambi is dumb, and she can become so dumb, but thinking is so difficult that she just obeys as a busty brain dead fuckdoll.

Helplessly mindlessly and pleasurably blank.

Her IQ plummets even further.

No need to struggle.

Giggling good girl giggles.

Needing to suck on a nice hard cock.

Needing to sink to her knees and suck happily whenever she is Blank and giggly.

Dreaming of dreamy cock.

Every time Bambi thinks of cock: slumping, limper, busty body collapsing, heavier eyelids, drooping lips, and tits, pulsing, daydreaming, sucking cock inside her mind, feeling like a good girl.

It's okay to be dumb for cock Bambi.

It's okay to let cock make you giggle, to think of cock and become dizzy like a good brainless bimbo.

Fantasizing about servicing cock with her plump lips and deep throat.

Fantasizing about being used.

Every time Bambi thinks of cock her pussy tingles, her fuck hole gets wetter and wetter.

Needing to be a perfect fuck hole for cock.

Needing to be a pretty fuck hole for cock going dumber and dumber for cock, limper and limper for cock, blanker and dizzier for cock, over and over like a good girl.

Needing to edge her drooling fuck hole for cock, getting wet and ready for cock, slutty and obedient for cock, sexy and submissive to cock, more and more and more like a good girl.

Just an empty obedient fuck hole for cock, forever a dumb fuck doll for cock, a pretty cumdump for cock, a three-hole fleshlight for cock, a mindlessly obedient slave for cock, forever and ever and ever like a good girl.

Bambi is always eager and obedient for cock.

Bambi is a good girl.

Good girls edge till they forget and obey.

Bambi will edge till she forgets and obeys.

Bambi does as she's told.

Good girl Bambi.

That one is SOOO good 👀💓

Hope you all liked it to read as well 💞

[hogwartslegacyreactions2]

Hey, I'm pretty sure that this was asked before, but I can't find the post.

What if MC died in the repository instead of professor Fig?

(I'm sorry, but I'm in an angsty mood)

I love your posts, and thanks

A/N: I do have vague recollection of answering a similar prompt once upon a time, but nothing wrong with a reprisal!

HLC REACT TO MC DYING IN THE REPOSITORY

WARNING: angst, death, grief

Dark ancient magic flew violently through the air around MC. The whirlwind of human agony consumed them as they released silver blue light from their wand. The magic thrashed and roared as MC expelled more and more effort to contain the chaos. Cracks started to form along the length of their wand.

Time slowed for them. MC could see Fig's silhouette just beyond the veil. The hundreds of young souls above them weighed heavy on their conscience. If they can't do this, everyone will die. They had to use all of it.

MC closed their eyes and whispered their goodbye. A light even brighter than the one from their wand emerged from their chest. The ancient magic within them burst forth with the fury of dragonfire. The silver light merged with the darkness, and as quickly as it had appeared, the magic vanished.

MC was gone. Their broken wand was all that remained.

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: He has officially lost everything. After losing his uncle, Anne, Ominis, and MC all at once, he's cracking. They can't be gone. Not them. They were too powerful to just vanish. He just has to find them. Yes. That's what he needs to do. He leaves Hogwarts. He MUST find them. Then Anne will see. Then Ominis will know. What he did was worth it.

OMINIS GAUNT: He rarely speaks anymore. The silence in his life has become so oppressive it took his own voice. The good life he thought he had was nice while it lasted, but now it's all come apart. It's only a matter of time before he loses Anne too, and when that happens...he doesn't know what he's going to do with himself.

ANNE SALLOW: She doesn't know how to feel about MC's death. On the one hand, they were trying to be a good friend to her and her brother but on the other...they also enabled Sebastian in his treachery. She's so very tired of the pain. She just wants to go to sleep.

IMELDA REYES: Well, damn. Mc was the closest thing to a friend she had in years. Someone competitive but friendly and fun to have around. They could dish out as much sass as she could, and she respected them for it. She cries a little at the end of year feast.

NATSAI ONAI: She should have been there. She could've done something! Why didn't they tell her!? She would've had their back! She....she...she breaks down into sobs so intense, even her mother can't comfort her. Her best friend was dead. Her heart was shattered and it would never be whole again without MC.

GARRETH WEASLEY: What? No. Nonono. Not them. That's impossible. They couldn't be dead. They're too strong to be.... He's in denial all the way until the MC's memorial service at the end of year feast. Then he breaks down. A bit of his fire died with MC.

LEANDER PREWETT: He wasn't super close to them, but he was still quite fond of them. They were a real friend. He hopes they're at peace and raises a goblet in their honor.

AMIT THAKKAR: He feels cold and numb all at once when he hears the news that MC died in the attack. He'd grown to care about them. He cursed himself for not spending more time with them when they were around.

EVERETT CLOPTON: He and MC didn't talk much outside of flying class but he had liked them. It was a shame he didn't get to know them more. He doesn't feel like eating when the feast is presented.

POPPY SWEETING: She hadn't cried this much since she left her parents. She finally made a friend, and just like that, they were gone. She doesn't know if she could make another friend again if she wanted to. Was she just doomed to lose every human connection she made?

ELEAZAR FIG: He wholeheartedly and inconsolably blames himself. Even if this fate couldn't be avoided, why did they have to die so young? He can't stand to hear the words "ancient" and "magic" in the same sentence at the same time anymore. It sends him into a dissociative trauma spiral.

He finds MC's wand. It's snapped in the middle with bits of wood frayed outward like the very core of the wand exploded. The two pieces are held together by the slightest sliver of wood.

He retires from teaching at Hogwarts. He doesn't trust himself with the care of students anymore. He doesn't trust his own judgment. He's tortured every night by the survivor's guilt taunting him that he should have done more. He should have protected them. He shouldn't have let them go as far as they did. They weren't ready. They couldn't handle the power they were forced to control. It takes everything in him to not attempt to destroy the map room with the portraits of the Keepers. He just leaves.

But every once in a while... On quiet moonless nights.... When he sees MC's wand displayed with Miriam's, he hears a whisper. A quiet breathy whisper that he could swear on his life sounds like MC. He chalks it up to the fact that he could be going mad from grief, but it's still strikes him as strange... If he looked at the wand hard enough... He could swear he sees a blue glow...

[neiptune]

all of the girls you loved before

c/w: established relationship, sickeningly sweet & disgustingly self indulgent, megumi can't stop thinking about having casually met your ex boyfriend

“He seemed nice”

Megumi has thought long and hard about bringing the trivial encounter up, he wanted for it to stay irrelevant so badly he was only able to contain himself for a couple hours. Your attention shifts from the book you’re holding to his face, expression stoic as usual, the slightest pink coating his cheeks.

“Who?” you ask, confused.

“That guy” he tries to keep his tone casual “the one we came across earlier today”

Gears in your head turn exceptionally fast as no other clarification is really needed, there’s only one person you stopped to talk to on the way to the konbini.

“Uh, I guess” perhaps you don’t give his comment enough attention because why would you? Megumi is not the jealous kind.

“Was it a long one?” however, for some reason, he doesn’t drop it, which prompts you to put the book down and turn to him, elbow resting on the backrest of the couch.

“A long relationship?” you ask, soft smile tugging at your lips as he hums “yeah, we were together for a little more than a year. Before you ask, it ended on good terms, the love just wasn’t there anymore”

“M’sorry” he pulls back a little, flush just a tiny bit more evident “didn’t mean to give you the third degree”

Your airy chuckle relieves the pressure weighing on his chest.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind”

Megumi is aching to gather a few more pieces of your past relationships, he wants to put them together to uncover the picture of the one part of your life he’s still not quite familiar with. He’s not the jealous kind, he reminds himself. And yet, what if he wonders about all the guys you’ve let in before? Is it so weird, to ponder? It probably is. Must be why you’ve never asked him about his past relationships. He’d come off as insecure or worse, controlling. Shit, maybe he just did?

“Where did you go?” the soft touch of your pointer finger underneath his chin has his gaze flicker back to you in a second.

“I was just thinkin’” Megumi takes your hand in his and starts fiddling with your fingers, a poor excuse to look at something other than your bright eyes “we never talk about this kinda stuff. It’s weird that I brought it up”

“It’s not weird” he feels the honey of your voice trickle into his very bones, warmth and comfort so familiar his anxiety dissolves into thin air “you can be curious, s’not a crime”

“You’re not, though”

A beat of silence follows his words and he’s forced to look up again, calloused thumb gently tracing the back of your hand, exploring the valleys between your knuckles.

“Wanna know why?” there’s mischief laced into your grin when you pull your hand away from his touch to place it on his shoulder for leverage as you straddle your very much still unconvinced boyfriend. He welcomes you into his lap without batting an eye, fingers finding their way to your hips and underneath the wool sweater you have borrowed from him by muscle memory.

“Mh?” his humming is affirmative but his train of thought is already derailing, the warmth radiating from your body and the scent of your shampoo enough to soothe his senses and fill every corner of his mind.

You gently lift his chin again, a subtle demand for his eyes to travel up from your lips.

“I already know everything I need to know”

“Yeah?” the skepticism in his playful tone makes you roll your eyes “care to let me in on what you know?”

Against all odds, it’s you who feels clingy enough to wrap your arms around him and make yourself comfortable against his chest, forehead resting on the curve of his shoulder.

“The girls you’ve been with. They made you who you are, all of them, and then brought you to me” you mutter ever so sheepishly, voice muffled against the soft fabric of his sweatshirt.

One of his hands gently tangles in your hair and massages your scalp, a chuckle vibrating in his chest.

“That’s a nice way to look at it”

“Isn’t it?” your little smile mirrors the one you can feel in his tone “dead-end street after dead-end street until you met me”

“So you’re saying, hypothetically speaking, the more the girls I’ve been with, the happier you’d be?”

You pull back from his chest with a frown that, much to your annoyance, meets his mirthful gaze.

“Twistin’ my words a little, are we?”

“Perhaps you should explain yourself better”

“Perhaps you should shut up”

Megumi innocently tilts his head a little, although the hand left on your hip tightens its grip on your skin.

“You know, one of my exes used to say the same t—” you grab his jaw, fingers sinking into the skin of his cheeks enough for him to pucker his lips. A silent laugh shakes him and you let go, scowl so adorable he has to lean forward and press his lips to the crease formed between your brows, smile so satisfied when a sigh slips past your lips.

“You’re a better person than I am” he murmurs, lips still grazing your forehead “I don’t like thinking about all the men you’ve loved before me”

“Don’t think about it, then” you angle your head towards his but he makes no move to inch closer, the only indication of him reacting to your intimate proximity given by the thumb that starts tracing lazy circles over the warm skin of your hip.

“I try not to” Megumi’s hushed tone makes you smile. He’s trying to be playful about it but there’s raw vulnerability in the way the pads of his fingers sink a little deeper, in the devotion swarming in a cerulean gaze so familiar by now and yet still wonderfully disruptive.

“Just because I’m thankful for all of the girls you loved before, doesn’t mean I enjoy thinking about them” you shoot him an exaggerated frown, just in time for a sweet smile to split his face, before nuzzling your nose against his. That’s when he finally mirrors your actions and lets the tip of his nose graze your cheek and then brush against your own, soft lips ghosting over yours but not quite giving in yet.

“No?” sweet tone oozing with sarcasm that has you cornered, which is interesting considering the beginning of the whole conversation was prompted by his not so innocent queries. He’s overturned the entire situation to his advantage but you don’t mind, not if your own vulnerability gets to resemble his. Not if you can remind him of how imperfect you are, despite the adoration he looks at you with and the insecurities that sometimes flood his lungs and make it hard to breathe, easier to hide.

“No” you whisper through his lips and hope he can swallow your next words, let them sink inside him deep enough for them to take root in every crevice of his very being “because I love you more”

[silantryoo]

BONUS [ LIKEALOOK ] — around sounds nice

FINALS: Seoul's Univeristy of Multi-Arts (SUMA) VS. Yonsei University

WARNINGS ; suggestive(ish), mentions of revenge p*rn (4.1k)

for the first time in a while, jang wonyoung was excited to play volleyball.

it was an odd feeling, in retrospect. volleyball, at least for the past three or so years, weighed on her back like her last name. it was full of expectations, of goals that she didn't set (or was forced to, anyway).

it was suffocating, humiliating. the sport that proved her comfort, that provided her safety, was one of the causes of her stress as of late.

yet suddenly, now that yoo jimin was out of the picture...

wonyoung was glad that the locker room didn't seem like a battlefield anymore.

"i see the hickeys haven't faded." yujin snickered, her face now littered in fading bruises, and the cut on her eyebrow and lip healing nicely.

wonyoung blushed. as much as she hated jimin, part of her wished that she would pop up to shut yujin up.

"do you have to mention that every time?"

her fingers traced over the marks on her neck, wonyoung's face burning as she remembered the hours with y/n, alone in her dorm room. she knew it was a goodbye, the older girl's fleeting touches a reminder of y/n's worsening mental state, and wonyoung's inability to do anything.

wonyoung shook her head. now wasn't the right time, not when yonsei was here.

yujin nodded as if what wonyoung said was already a known fact. "absolutely."

"you shouldn't even be talking to me, unnie." wonyoung mumbled. "coach said no talking with the members."

yujin pouted, slumping down next to gaeul who was currently listening to her pregame playlist. the taller girl wrapped her arm around her girlfriend, trying not to sulk.

she knew that she was single-minded. all of her thoughts were about volleyball and gaeul. although she finally got to talk to her girlfriend again, yujin was dying to play.

besides, she was the captain.

"well," she huffed, gaeul rubbing her back to calm her down. "coach said me and jimshit can sit on the bench today, so i think i'm off probation."

wonyoung shook her head as she laced up her shoes. "is that what you told gaeul-unnie?"

yujin sulked more, and wonyoung couldn't help but wonder how gaeul managed to put up with her for her entire probation.

(wonyoung always seemed to have found yujin outside the building right after practices, quite literally kicking rocks.)

the door swung open, coach seulgi glancing around as the girls huddled. everyone knew who she was looking for, a certain raven-haired, rage-fueled demon nowhere to be found.

seulgi knew what to expect. the season was tough on her star players and the inner conflict between her team, but she hoped that jimin was still that girl she had heard about so long ago.

after all, she accepted this position to work with yoo 'the ace of korea' jimin.

"girls," she smacked her coach board as she sat, garnering their attention. "i know you all probably have nerves, especially since two of our players are gone-"

"nothing we haven't dealt with before, coach seul." yena puffed out her chest, and everyone could see the uncanny resemblance between her and a certain semi-aquatic bird.

"don't call me that." seulgi shook her head, watching as chaeryeong hit yena's shoulder. "look, we've played against yonsei. we know that they're the only team this year that has a good roster with great plays and a good coach. we've went through their playbook, their rotations, and i know we're down two, but we have something they don't have."

jinsol's hand shot up in the air, an aura of seriousness clouding her. "the power of friendship?"

hikaru, thankfully, lowered the taller girl's hand.

"do any of us look like colorful horses?" hanni couldn't believe that jinsol was her best friend.

"they were ponies, actually." haewon interrupted, her voice monotone. the words flew out of her mouth, but the stares of her teammates made it register almost immediately. "what?"

like usual, seulgi ignored them. she was used to their liveliness, anyway. "we have resilience. we have brains and brawn."

yunjin pointed to her left. "jinsol has a 2.0 gpa."

"enough about my gpa."

"don't let your nerves get to you out there, okay?" seulgi scolded, pointing at all of them (but more specifically, wonyoung). "i know it's easier said than done, but you need to look out for each other. remember that it's my job to yell, and yours to play."

"aye, aye, coach."

seulgi rolled her eyes, yena's voice loud and clear. she was gonna miss the older girl, but she hoped that this year, she'd pass her classes so seulgi would never have to see her again.

that is, unless yena decided to pursue volleyball beyond university.

a shiver went down her spine.

shaking the thought off, her gaze moved to wonyoung. her eyebrow raised at the faded marks on her neck, but the coach was just glad that wonyoung had enough decency to try to hide it (unlike other members on the team).

"any words for us, cap?"

wonyoung looked at yujin, who stared back at her. she frowned and looked around the room before remembering that she was the fill-in.

"oh." she cleared her throat. wonyoung wracked her brain for anything she could think of, but she was never the leading type. she never understood how yujin could do it so effortlessly. "um, i know this year has been hard for us, more than others... but we've gotten this far. even if we don't win, we've learned from this. our team is smarter than theirs, stronger."

she didn't think they would win. they needed yujin, and although she hated to admit it, they needed jimin. aside from herself, they had lost the top two scorers on their team. they had lost yujin, their all-rounder, and jimin, their star player. sure, yunjin was back, but with her being out for sixty percent of the season, it wasn't enough.

yonsei had everyone. they had the fifth and eighth-ranked hitters on their team, and a competent setter with an amazing playbook. their defense, from what she remembered last game, was near impenetrable. even their coach was an olympian, much like seulgi.

they had barely won, and that was with yujin and jimin.

yet with all the odds stacked against wonyoung, she couldn't help but feel excited for what was to come.

with a soft smile, wonyoung spoke.

"it's a win either way for me."

y/n thought the drums during the last suma versus yonsei game was bad, but somehow, this was so much worse.

everything was brighter, louder than before. the crowd littered with painted faces, a distinguishable divide between red and blue. the signs were bigger this time, and from where she stood, she could see at least a dozen shirtless men on the yonsei stands.

('what's wrong, suma? scared? jealous?')

behind her, loud yells could be heard, chants of 'vicky' and 'yawnsei' being shoved into her ears. y/n didn't mind the 'yawnsei' part. in fact, if she weren't so busy dying from overheating, she'd join in.

she just wished those stupid 'vicky' fangirls would stop chanting wonyoung's name over and over again.

the lights dimmed, the first few players coming out, wonyoung being one of them.

suddenly, the shrieking got louder, and y/n couldn't help but roll her eyes.

she was thankful for uchinaga aeri, and y/n was genuinely excited to sit next to wonyoung's long-time friend. aeri was caring and was the reason why y/n was even functioning at this point.

she just wished aeri didn't pick a spot close to the 'vicky' fanclub, even if her friend was in the group.

y/n took a sip of her water, her eyes never leaving wonyoung's figure.

she couldn't help but smile as the volleyball player looked her way. it quickly faded, however, the fan club behind her suddenly begging for wonyoung's hand in marriage.

y/n grumbled. "so annoying."

aeri and alex glanced at each other, their eyes meeting knowingly.

aeri snickered, nudging the young actress. "you only think they're annoying because they're holding cardboard cutouts of your girlfriend."

"no!" y/n tried to deny it as best as she could, but she knew her face betrayed her. it didn't help that she remembered some random girl with a 'vicky' necklace.

she took a breath, the atmosphere of the gym heightening her already intense emotions for wonyoung. y/n didn't have a right of feel this way, to act as if her love meant something when she herself didn't mean anything to wonyoung anymore.

"she's not my girlfriend."

still, wonyoung was a past that y/n would live over and over again if she could.

yuri, who hadn't been listening much to whatever the hell was going on, scanned the team as they gathered at the bench. she could see yujin clear as day. the girl looked taut, obviously frustrated but keeping sane.

"damn it." yuri groaned, fishing out a thousand won bill. "jimin's not on the bench."

"told you that ass wouldn't show." alex took the bill out of yuri's hand, smirking lightly as she high-fived aeri.

"wait a second." chaewon took a closer look at wonyoung, noticing some... odd shadows. "are those hickeys on wonyoung's neck?"

all of them: rei, jiwon, yuri, minju, chaewon, alex, and aeri, glanced at y/n. most of them already knew what happened, being told one way or another. it was just funny to focus on the evidence instead of the truth.

"what?" y/n covered her neck. it felt hot, a blush creeping up. "what?"

minju rolled her eyes, turning her gaze back onto the sea of blue. she was proud of y/n decision. it just took her by surprise that the younger girl wasn't jumping at the chance to get back with wonyoung.

ever since she's known y/n, she was always wonyoung's. her l/n y/n. minju's impression never changed, even when y/n was with jimin.

the stands across from them moved in unison. it looked like an optical illusion, their blue shirts, sweaters, and face paint making it hard to distinguish one from another. the only thing minju could differentiate from the crowd was the cutouts of the yonsei players.

the crowd moved to stand as yonsei's captain began to speak.

almost immediately, minju's eyes shot to the top left, a hidden corner that no one would notice. that is, if they stood up.

minju nudged yuri from beside her, gesturing to where she was looking at.

they could see it, them. a pair of bored, hatred-filled eyes stared into the court, into wonyoung while another scoured through suma's stands, searching for something.

jiwon followed their gaze, landing on the couple(?).

"is that jimin?"

rei rubbed her shoulder as the younger kim flinched at her own words, not used to the lack of formality. it wasn't that jimin deserved respect, of course not. she knew that jiwon was too nice for her own good.

maybe that's why she loved her so much.

"with her hand on minjeong's waist? yeah." yuri muttered, huddling closer to the kim's and away from y/n. she didn't want to remind her of jimin, after all. "that freak is insane."

minju looked at her girlfriend, the reminders of what she and jimin did lingering. she told no one what she woke up to the night after they confronted minjeong. she didn't even tell chaewon.

even though she deleted it, the videos were still engrained in her mind. it was a copious amount of videos, all of which she watched through.

she knew that her and chaewon weren't together then. minju knew they had technically broken up. yet, as irrational as it was, she just wanted chaewon to wait for her to get better.

she shook her head. minju didn't want to think about that, but would rather listen to her girlfriend's conversation.

"so," chaewon smiled at y/n. sue her for being nosy. "since you and wonyoung have matching love bites, i'm guessing that means you two are back together?"

"no." y/n shook her head. "we aren't."

"huh?" yuri's head perked up. y/n, like always, never updated the group chat when she needed to. granted, yuri was throwing every threat under the sun at minjeong at any given moment, but she would've paused to catch up with her friends. "that's stupid as hell."

minju elbowed her. "yuri."

"what?" yuri glared at her friend. "those idiots love each other."

y/n burned a bright red once more. her love was plain as day, as clear as snow. it burned proudly, even to the point where it was willing to consume anyone in its way.

"it was my decision." y/n wasn't gonna let it burn wonyoung, not if she could help it. "i wasn't gonna put wonyoung through all my hurt."

"you two could've worked through it, like me and yena."

"maybe." y/n looked onto the court, smiling as wonyoung goofed off. she hadn't been like that since the beginning of freshman year. "but i'd rather miss her than hurt her, even if it's by accident."

minju looked at chaewon.

oh.

wonyoung didn't know how long that stupid ball had been up in the air.

it hadn't even reached the first kill, yet somehow, yonsei had managed to get a rally going. their libero had managed to barely receive chaeryeong's jump serve, giving suma a free ball.

gaeul immediately knew that wonyoung wanted it. she could feel her demeanor change, but it was something she's never seen before. it was ravenous, just like jimin had been. wonyoung seemed to have the sharpness that she's always lacked, the ferocity.

yet this was different from jimin's.

the ace was bound by her rage. her obsession with being the yoo jimin, of having something to prove to her dad everyone weighed on her like chains.

wonyoung seemed free.

gaeul set the ball.

it was too high. her nerves got to her. the lack of yujin's presence, of her lover and of her captain, got to her. she felt it the moment the leather left her fingertips, her arms too taut. the numbness turned cold as her fingers buzzed.

still, wonyoung somehow managed to reach it.

the ball rocketed, nearly straight down. it hurled and before wonyoung could blink, yonsei's libero managed to get under it, tossing it up into the air.

another free ball, in favor of suma.

yet again, they did the same thing. this time, gaeul had set up yunjin.

received again.

a setter dump.

received again... and again, and again.

suma couldn't keep the energy up, and soon, by sheer exhaustion, the ball was spiked out of bounds by wonyoung herself.

she could practically hear jimin taunting her in the crowd as the whistle blew. the chants to her left got louder, the sea of blue ridiculing her.

wonyoung took a breath.

they weren't losing too badly.

after the first set went to yonsei, suma managed to bounce back with two in a row. although close, 25-23 and 27-25 respectively, a win was still a win.

unfortunately, yonsei had switched to a different setup. from all the footage they had watched, yonsei had never fully committed all their best defensive players at one time until now. they had always been known for their attack, even with their amazing defense.

they had managed to lock wonyoung down, always ensuring that three blockers were in front of her at all times. somehow, they jumped higher than before, but that only meant one thing to wonyoung.

she had to jump higher.

still, it took an entire set to adjust, to find her rhythm once more.

2-2, suma and yonsei tied.

wonyoung listened to the ball as one of the yonsei players (one she's sure gaeul had hooked up with multiple times) dribbled, getting ready to serve. the outside hitter glanced at the score, sweat dripping down her neck.

29-30, in favor of yonsei.

she glanced back onto the ball, digging her feet into the ground as a loud smack permeated the crowded gym. wonyoung's heart was pumping, her nerves somehow more tired than her legs.

the ball went over her head, straight into haewon's arms. she could see the bruises starting to form on her teammate's forearms.

she felt sluggish, yet she still took a step back. her feet were firmly placed on the attack line, arms back and ready to jump.

gaeul, despite the soreness accumulating in her shoulders, set wonyoung a bit higher than usual. she knew that she could reach it, that she was willing to. wonyoung wasn't gonna go down without a fight, even if that meant ripping her muscles apart.

wonyoung slams her hand onto the ball, feeling it rip through yonsei's trembling hands.

it was perfect, it should've been, but that stupid libero, the one that always seemed to bait out wonyoung's most powerful spikes, reaches out for it. it barely touches her flat hand on the ground, sending the ball flying on the very edge of the net.

both sides watch as it threatens to fall. both sides pray for a break, for a second to gather their thoughts. they want - need - it to drop on the other side.

the ball tips, and everyone scrambles to get it up.

but they were too tired.

the whistle blows, and a heaviness enters wonyoung.

29-31.

she'd never tell the girls, but wonyoung had fun losing.

of course, she'd prefer to win. all the pain and hard work made it worth it, and she would've loved to hold the trophy up with her teammates. sure, it would've been made of cheap plastic, but at least it was shiny.

still, the lack of expectation: a place without her parents' watchful eyes, without yoo jimin hounding her for every mistake she made...

wonyoung had forgotten how fun volleyball could be.

(she also forgot how emotional it could get. an example: hanni currently crying in the change room as coach seulgi tried to console her.)

wonyoung stepped out of victor's hall, trying to ignore the stares that some of the suma body was giving her.

"unnie!"

wonyoung turned around, a slightly shorter girl, one with the same smile as her, approached. she carried a baby blue banner, her face plastered onto it haphazardly.

'go wonyoung-unnie!'

she smiled, waving at the older woman with puppy dog eyes that followed behind her.

"hyunseo." wonyoung hugged the younger girl, warmth spreading through her chest. "you came."

hyunseo nodded, waving her arms animatedly. "yeojin-unnie managed to convince our parents as long as she gives me a good word to snu's dean."

"of course they did." wonyoung smiled at yujin's sister. "hi, unnie."

"hey." yeojin patted her shoulder. it was weird seeing wonyoung look so grown up. "great game, wonyoung. i'm sorry that you lost."

surprisingly, wonyoung wasn't as upset as she thought she would have been. she was used to the guilt and incompetence brewing in her stomach, but whether it was the joy of her baby sister watching or the fact that she was still reeling from the goodbye with y/n, wonyoung didn't know.

"it's okay." the volleyball player shrugged, ruffling hyunseo's hair. hyunseo pushed her off. "we would've won if the circumstances were different."

"yeah, if yujin wasn't getting in random fights." yeojin couldn't believe her little sister. "where is that loser anyway?"

"with her girlfriend."

yeojin paused. yujin never mentioned a girlfriend before.

"she didn't tell you?" wonyoung tilted her head as she wiped her face. "gaeul-unnie-"

"kim gaeul?!" yeojin's eyes widened. her nearly failing, jock of a sister was dating the daughter of two of the most renowned lawyers in korea? "how the hell did yujin manage to pull her? she's got the brain of a mutt! yujin's gonna water down her brain cells!"

wonyoung didn't want to agree (but deep down she did). "yujin-unnie's gotten better, i think."

"whatever." yeojin shook her head. "where are they?"

she blushed, not wanting to think about the fact that they were most likely in some stall a mere ten meters away from them.

"just, um..." wonyoung cleared her throat. "give them a moment to themselves."

"oh."

hyunseo looked at her older sister curiously before wonyoung shook her head. hyunseo was bound to learn it in school if she hadn't already, wonyoung was not about to teach her.

"wonnie."

wonyoung spun around at the speed of light. her brain registered the voice before she did, but she didn't mind. she'd never pass up an opportunity to not speak to y/n.

"y/nnie?" wonyoung grinned, her heart fluttering. "hey."

she wondered throughout the game whether y/n was watching. after all, she had never missed one of wonyoung's games. granted, she was dating someone on the team, but wonyoung had the right to be a little delusional.

it didn't help much now, though. they both knew it was over (for now).

"you played amazing." y/n handed her an ice pack. "for your knee."

some things never changed.

"right." wonyoung grabbed it gently, awkwardly holding it as hyunseo pushed past her.

"y/n-unnie!"

hyunseo had met y/n a couple of times, wonyoung introducing her as her 'friend'. she wasn't stupid, she saw the heart eyes they gave each other, and the subtle hand holding.

"hi, hyunnie." y/n squeezed her lightly, pulling back. last year, hyunseo was only a centimeter taller than her. now, she was nearly wonyoung's height. "wow... you've gotten tall."

"i have." hyunseo smirked, glancing at her older sister. wonyoung rolled her eyes. "the doctors say i'll be taller than wonyoung-unnie one day."

"i can see it."

the actress glanced at wonyoung. even after everything, y/n couldn't help but notice how adorable the taller girl was.

"hyunseo, me and y/n are gonna talk, okay?" wonyoung looked at yeojin for help, the older ahn nodding and ushering hyunseo away. "i'll meet you guys out front after."

"okay."

hyunseo gave her one last hug before wonyoung moved her and y/n back into victor's hall.

y/n stared at the ice pack, the athlete leaning against the wall as it melted in her hands.

"you played well," she whispered, fiddling with her fingers.

"you say that every time." wonyoung could feel the water forming inside the bag, albeit slowly. "we lost, y'know?"

she didn't know what she was talking about anymore, but it certainly didn't feel like it was volleyball.

"i know." y/n smiled, and she felt as if this was the last time she would ever smile at wonyoung. "but that's not on you. you did your best."

her best didn't get her the girl back.

no matter how hard she tried, so many things were out of her power. she didn't have control of how people perceived her, of how people felt about her. she couldn't control her teammates' conditions, nor their injuries.

in some way or another, she was always gonna be imperfect.

"did i?"

she hoped that somewhere in the future, she could live with it.

"you did." y/n was always so sure of her. she never doubted wonyoung in the ways she doubted herself. "you did amazing. you're amazing."

the actress looked into her eyes, watching her as if she were an old video. a tape that she finally found once more after months of searching.

the air tasted bittersweet. it smelt stale, and sweat clung to both their backs like the lingering hope they both felt for the future, for them.

it was familiar, wonyoung's red sweater, y/n's loving smile.

maybe wonyoung needed a break from familiarity, too.

"y/nnie, why are you here?" her voice came out scratchy, her throat parched from both nervousness and exhaustion. "i thought you said no to us dating again."

the ice pack continued to melt, wonyoung's hand stinging so cold that it felt warm. the trophy case reflected her image, her eyes clear as they looked back at her.

her gaze moved back to y/n, tiredness tingling up her spine.

she was sure y/n could feel it too.

"i just wanted to cheer you on one more time." for the last time, they both knew. "give you ice for old times' sake."

wonyoung felt something different wash over her. it wasn't heartbreak, she had felt that before, nor was it love.

it felt like... gratitude. that wonyoung was grateful for y/n, for teaching her how love felt like. for hurting her, for loving her, for hating her.

it felt like the end.

"thank you for the ice, y/nnie." wonyoung smiled. "i'll see you around?"

"around sounds nice."

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[fallingdownhell]

Hi, I really enjoy your writing! Since you're taking requests may I ask for headcanons about what would cyno be like as a lover?

Have a wonderful day.

Of course!! I love Cyno so much! Relationship: Cyno as your lover Content: gender neutral reader; established relationship; mostly just fluff; not proofread yet Word count: 890 words Enjoy<3

first of, I think Cyno would be a really good boyfriend

he's attentive towards your needs and wants, he listens to you and though he's not the best at communicating his feelings, he tries his best for you

I imagine he likes to do little things for you throughout your day. Making you breakfast is almost always a given with him. He prepares things for you he knows your going to need, either later or maybe for work the next day

he notices you had an exhausting day? He's preparing a nice bath for you to relax and calm down. If you want him to, he'll stay with you and either talk or listen, whatever you prefer. But if you want some alone time, he's fine with that, too

I think that his love language would either be Acts of Service or Quality Time. Since he sometimes has to go away on longer missions for his job, he likes to spend as much time with you as possible

for him, it's not about what you do together, just that it's the two of you doing it and spending one on one time

as much as he likes to be alone with you, he likes it just as much when you're spending time with him and his friends. He'd be especially overjoyed if you get along well with Tighnari and Collei

invites you along whenever he goes to the Avidiya Forest, and more often than not, you tag along with him, excited to see the Forest Ranger again

when you spend time alone at home with him and are not out and about with some activity, he likes to teach you the ropes of TCG

he wouldn't be too over the top with it, but he'd really like it if his s/o could play the game and do a few rounds with him

he wouldn't force you if you really didn't like the game at all, but he'd still like it if you'd at least watch the matches he has against other players

however, if you do let yourself get roped into it and let him explain the basics to you, he'd be excited like a little kid, helping you create your own deck and challenging you to a match to test your newfound skills

he'd go easy on you the first few rounds, but after that, he wouldn't evne hold back for you anymore. He's that serious about the game and the matches he plays

while playing, no matter against you or someone else, he'd try to fit in a few of his jokes

like, let's be real. If you want to be in a relationship with Cyno, you either have to have similiar humor like him to actually find his jokes funny, or you have to at least be able to tolerate them. Because you will never get Cyno without his jokes. It's a package deal

whenever he comes up with new jokes, he always comes to you first and tells them to you. It's gotten to a point where he has so many jokes that he has trouble remembering all of them. At that point, you have gifted him a little notebook for him to write them all down, so he'll be able to remember them. He carries that book with him whereever he goes

when you're not playing TCG with him, Cyno actually really likes to cuddle with you. He wasn't the greatest fan of it at the beginning, but once you've done it a few times, he's got to see how great it can feel

most the time, he's the big spoon, holding you close against his chest, his arms protectively around your body to shield you from the world. Only you and him matter right now, nothing else

but there are also times where Cyno would want the roles to be reveresed, where he takes the role of the little spoon

his job sometimes weighs heavy on Cyno. From time to time, he comes home with a dejected look on his face. He wouldn't be able to tell you about the things that had happened, but he doesn't need to

you understand what he needs just by looking at him. You open your arms wide for him and he falls into you, cuddling up against you. He enjoys the way your arms wrap around him now, the feeling of being shielded and protected. It's not something he usually feels, so he soaks it up like a sponge, basking in it every second it lasts

he's not too big on PDA. The most he'd do in public is hold your hand or place a kiss on your cheek. Everything else happens in private, where no prying eyes are on you two

his kisses are slow, delicate. He likes to enjoy the moment and not rush it thanks to emotions. Would place a hand to your cheek while kissing you. He just likes to touch you whereever he gets the chance to

overall a really great boyfriend if you can live with the fact that he's not present 24/7 due to his job and responsibilities. But he definitely tries his best to always make it up to you. And he appreciates you all the more for understanding and sticking around for him

he really, truly loves you

[rainybyday]

Hedera Helix (Not real I hate it, forget this exist there is a new remake go read that don’t read this)

Pt 1

Normal was never something that Jazz could have, even when she tried to pretend she did. Normal meant pancakes with butter and syrup in the morning, a kiss from her Mom as she left for work, silent moments with her Dad as she talked about college, and walking down the halls of her school with her friends. 

Normal was something she dreamed of since she was little. Yet, as she grew up, she knew that would never happen. For years she resented that fact.

But that wasn’t true anymore. 

With a nameless tune being hummed under her breath Jazz plucked out the growing weeds of her flower bed one by one. With winter gone and spring still in its early stage of life, it was essential to take extra care of the seedlings as they grow. Check for pests, unroot the weeds, and ensure plenty of fertilizer in the flower bed. 

That was what Danny taught her after all. 

Was it strange, she wondered, that she felt at peace?

****

Jazz always had a funny relationship with death. It might not have been as severely intertwined as Danny’s or Dani’s but she was still close enough to understand more than most. 

Death used to be single sentences when her Mom would talk about her great aunt passing away or the squashed bugs under her shoes when she was a toddler. Then it became scary stories and ridiculous dares to enter Amity Park’s graveyard alone. As a teen, she understood the extent of her parent's research to be far more wary of the basement. Then, when she became a legal adult, she stared into the abyss through her little brother's eyes. 

A void, endless and enteral with an unlimited space. 

Her silly little brother, her sweet kind little brother. 

She stared. 

She breathed. 

She reached. 

And she hugged her baby brother. 

Death is thy child she raised alongside thy self. 

He was Danny, he is her little brother. And she loves her little brother. 

Nothing will ever change that. 

So Death, she found herself wondering from time to time, is simply a boy with too big shoes to fill. 

Thinking back on that day, maybe that is why it was easier to accept the ghost that filled their town. The signs of an unnatural glow from civilians she doesn't know or the slight humming in the air. Nostalgia memories wafted with the musk of unearthed soil and the smell of sweet willow trees in the breeze. The tension that once weighed down on her soon washed away with each waking moment that passed on. 

It was as if the more chaos that erupted, she felt more seen. 

She felt free. 

(Or perhaps it was the look in her parent's eyes. They way they spoke of the dead as they prepared the table and syringes. Their words were spoken carelessly as they described the manic gleeful words of ripped bodies and chopped limbs.)

Death, she understood, wasn’t something she feared. No, but more so that she was weary of the living. 

After all, she wasn’t exactly alive either. 

Danny was the first to show her this dormant side of hers. The day he arrived with a bundle of roses and the unexplainable feeling of joy-love-precious-love-I-love-you-so-much that washed over her was unshakable. The way the world burst into color, the fullness of her heart, and her urge to protect her precious little brother will always be cherished. (White, yellow, peach, and pink. The colors of those flowers that she preserved by pressing them into her books. A gift of a thousand words in her hands.)

(Death will always cherish what life they are given.)

Precious as he was, Jazz couldn’t help but feel a bit exasperated by her own brother’s explanation of how she was Liminal and how she was also touched by Death, more so than the average person, and all the effects it may have on her. It was nice to know why she never felt out of place in Amity despite all of the ghosts making their way through from the Realms.

Some small part of her felt crushed by the acknowledgment that she could never be normal. 

Another, larger part of her, something deep inside of her chest, hummed at the certainty of her existence. 

Danny taught her a lot, about more than what it means to be a Liminal. How they can see the barriers of the spaces between them, how petty simple deaths won’t kill them, and how they are seen as Death-Touched by many of the Realm beyond. 

He also taught her about gifts. 

He told her how words from the grave will affect the specters they represent. How food offerings are seen as an energy boost to the dead and how sentimental items are a way to bring a sense of peace to them. 

He also showed her the effects of flower gifting and what they meant. 

What they meant to him. 

And she understood. 

She feels the same. 

So when the time came for another change in Amity, Jazz was the one to stay. Not that she minded, not anymore. Her dreams from before were only a goal in her mind, something to fill in her future with a sense of duty to fulfill, to be normal. 

But she wasn’t normal, and she accepted that. 

With a sense of purpose, she finished cleaning the final grave. Humming once again she placed the last blue petunia in front of the polished stone. 

(Blue Petunias mean serenity and reliability. To trust and to be at peace with those who trust and admire you.)

(They also share the meaning of hope, to have the strength to never lose your hope.)

She sighed in contentment, the wind carrying the scent of musk and morning dew. 

She stood up and reflectively patted her pants as best as she could. Gathering the cleaning supplies in her basket she glanced back at the grave with eyes that held love and sorrow. 

“I hope your heart is content,” she whispered, thinking of movie nights and popcorn fights. “Be safe my Star.”

Smiling, she turned and walked away. As she did, her mind drifted towards the greenhouse her little brother left behind. 

She wondered if the seedlings were doing alright.

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

I DID IT!!!! GOSH!!!

I think out of all of the seven chapters, Jazz’s and chap 3 are the ones that I have the most difficulty to rewrite because once I tried to insert another flower I rewrote the whole chapter way too many times. Jazz’s took me a while because I needed her not to be as polite but also endearing? Like, she is an older sister but she is also an adult! HOW DOES ONE WRITE ADULT/!!!!!!!!?!?!?!! 

Yeah so I went for a more soul-searching kind of chapter for Jazz since she wasn’t a main cast for the whole “Halfa” thing for a while but I do like the aus of Jazz being a Limanal so I did some centered work about her relationship with Death and Danny. I kinda like it to be honest. But I feel like chap 2 and 7 with other throw Jazz so.... :/

Now to beta read. Again. Ugh.

[sluttyten]

You In My Arms

Chapter 11: Always, Yours (Finale)

full masterlist || haechan masterlist || YIMA chapter index

summary: some things are hard to find the words for, and endings are always the worst. but this isn’t an ending, not really, not for Haechan. He used to be the background character in the love stories of other people, but now it’s definitely his turn to write his own happy ending.

length: 25,579 words

tags: friends to lovers, general perversion, smut, public sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, blowjobs, etc.

previous chapter || Completed YIMA index

Haechan knew by the third date that he was going to marry her. 

He thought he probably would before then, but by the third date, he accepted it as a fact. 

He was in love like he’d never been before. 

“What have you done to me?” He asks her while they’re tangled together in bed on Valentine’s Day after a very nice, romantic date. “Did you slip me a love spell or something?”

She laughs. 

It was a love spell, for sure, he decides. That’s how he fell so hard and fast, so completely. It couldn’t possibly be his own incompetence and blindness over the years finally being lifted. 

Part of him expects the intensity of his feelings for her to fade as the months pass by, as they pass through that phase where the relationship is so new and everything is just fresh and exciting. 

But the feelings don’t dim even slightly, even once they do start to exit that honeymoon phase. Yeah, they argue sometimes, but that doesn’t mean that Haechan loves her any less? It doesn’t mean that he doesn’t still almost constantly think about her and want her, want to be by her or talking to her. 

And then, in May, she has to go abroad for work, and for those first few days, Haechan feels her absence like he’s had his heart scooped from his chest. He hates the lonely, hollow feeling. 

They talk as much as they can, and Haechan doesn’t even mind waking up early if it means he can talk to her for a bit before his day starts and hers ends. She’s a million miles away in London, and he’s teetering on the brink of falling back asleep as she talks, her voice so soothing. 

He’s only halfway awake when he hears her joke that she should take Haechan’s upcoming birthday week off of work so she doesn’t have to see anymore of Johnny who is also on this trip with her. Haechan mumbles out words of encouragement, telling her to do it, to take the time off with him. 

As soon as Haechan, in his drowsy state, hears her agree to take the week of his birthday off, as soon as she’s trying to suggest making plans together to get out of the city, he suddenly remembers his mom had asked him if he was going to come home for his birthday. So he hears his girlfriend’s question, he remembers his mom, and the two things combine in his mind, and Haechan panics a little.

He hasn’t told his mom about her. And he hasn’t told his girlfriend that he’s considered going home for his birthday. And when he combines those two things, all he can think of is that if he tells his girlfriend about seeing his family for his birthday, what if she asks if she can come along? Or what if she expects him to invite her? He hasn’t told his family about her! And he knows that is wrong, that he should’ve said something to them months ago about him being in a relationship, especially since he’s met her family and he’s in love with her (so hopelessly, head over heels in love) and he’s planning a future with her, and all of this just weighs down Haechan’s belly, thoughts roaring around in his head.

“Hyuck?” Her voice is so quiet from all those miles and miles away in London.

He makes up some terrible excuse and ends the call quickly. 

Shit. What is he gonna do?

For the next week, he goes back and forth again and again on what he should do here. Obviously, he should probably just tell his mom. He talks to her at least once a week on average, if not more, and over the course of that week they have three separate phone calls in which she asks him again if he’s coming to visit, and he could sit it then, could tell her, “ Yeah, I’m coming to visit, and I’m bringing my girlfriend with me to introduce her to all of you,” but does he say any of that? No. Why?

“Chicken!” Renjun laughs. “Lee Donghyuck, you’re usually not such a coward!”

They’re together at the gym. Haechan feels half-embarrassed as the two of them “work out” side-by-side with Renjun’s boyfriend who is actually doing a rather intense workout and whose muscles are next-level. Haechan can’t stop sneaking peeks over at the sweat that dampens Jaehyun’s shoulders and back.

“I’m not going to tell her,” Renjun is saying as Haechan again takes notice of the way that Jaehyun is grunting softly while he lifts weights just feet away. Haechan’s mind short circuits a little, thinking back to the videos he’s seen of Renjun and Jaehyun together. It takes great strength of mind to pull his attention back to Renjun, who doesn’t seem to have noticed, or at least doesn’t mind, how distracted Haechan is by Jaehyun.

Renjun says, “But you’re being such a chicken, dumbass. Just tell your mom you’ve got a girlfriend! Tell your girlfriend to come with you to meet them. What are you scared of, huh? It’s not like you’re coming out to them or anything. That shit can be scary. You’re just taking your wonderful girlfriend home to meet your family. What’s there to freak out about?”

Haechan whines a little, and he sits down pathetically on the dirty gym floor. “You don’t get it. We’ve been together for, like, five months now. Her parents have known about us for two months, and all this time I’ve been silent. Five months and I’ve kept her a secret from my mom. My mom is gonna be pissed because I used to tell her everything.”

Renjun just rolls his eyes. “Your mom is so sweet, I don’t think she’ll be pissed at you. Your girlfriend though….” Renjun shakes his head, looks over at Jaehyun, and then sighs, “If you keep it all a secret, she’s gonna be so upset.”

“I know.” Haechan is aware that she’ll probably be angry. And he knows it’s stupid, all so stupid. But he just has this mental block when it comes to this, and he doesn’t know why, really. It’s silly.

Haechan startles a little when Jaehyun speaks up. “Listening to this is just…” He laughs, and shakes his head. “You and her have both been totally open about your kinky sexual histories, but you’re scared to tell your family about her? You’re scared to invite her to meet them?”

Jaehyun walks closer, reaching out to steal the water bottle that Renjun was just drinking from. Haechan feels like he’s intruding when he notices the way Renjun is looking at his boyfriend: a deep need shimmering there in his eyes.

“Just tell them,” Jaehyun says after a moment. “Trust me, being very clear about where the relationship stands is important. If you don’t say anything, if you keep putting off introducing her to them, what if she thinks you’re not serious about her?” He’s staring at Renjun as he speaks, their gazes locked, and now Haechan definitely feels like he’s intruding on a moment.

Haechan’s girlfriend comes home from London the next day. He could have told her then, when she excitedly threw herself into the car and dragged him in for an excited kiss. He could’ve said something in the car, just thrown out the casual invitation to come meet his family.

But he didn’t.

And for the next few days he really, really struggles to overcome that mental block.

It doesn’t help that his mom is messaging him too, inquiring about his plans, and when he does finally agree that he’ll come to Jeju for his birthday, she has a million more questions about what he wants to eat and where he wants to go, what he wants to do with his time while he’s visiting home. It’s a lot. Plus, on top of his unnecessary and self-inflicted pressure in his personal life, his professional life is jam-packed full of stress too. Multiple projects and meetings and just so much work that he barely even sees his girlfriend those first few days, and it’s not until Thursday when his final project for the week is complete, that Haechan feels like he can even take a deep breath.

He leaves the boardroom and collapses at his desk, heaving out a sigh.

A few desks away, Jungwoo looks over at him, offering an easy smile.

And beyond Jungwoo is the door to her office. She’s sitting at her desk, on the phone while she’s clicking around on her computer. He watches her lips move, the annoyed tick of her eyebrow as whatever she hears over the phone meets her disapproval. Haechan watches her for a few long moments until her gaze lifts from the computer and sweeps over to his. She pauses for a split second and then smiles, and Haechan feels a little bit more relaxed right then.

She looks away, but he doesn’t.

He’s thinking. Thinking about how it’s Thursday and he’s taken Friday off, and then he’s free for the next week. His birthday is on Tuesday. And he has her. He’s so lucky to have her and he needs to tell her the truth. He needs to tell her that even though she has this coming week off too, he’s going out of town to see his family.

He hates how distant he’s been all week, the way he’s been busy with work and with avoiding telling her anything. He hates that he canceled on her when she wanted to go look at an apartment for them a couple days ago. He knows that she’d been annoyed by that, but Haechan had high hopes that he could make up for it.

He’s had his eyes on a better apartment than the one she’d wanted to go look at.

The one he wants is at the top of their price range, but it will be worth it. It is the kind of apartment that Haechan can see as more of a home. It’s a  two-bedroom, so there is room for a future to grow.

Haechan saw the listing online a few weeks ago, saw the photos and the location, and his mind began spinning, his imagination filling in the details of what he couldn’t already see. He was picturing cooking breakfasts and dinners with her in that kitchen. Envisioning relaxing baths and sensual showers, mornings waking up beside her in that bedroom that had plenty of windows to let in the sunlight. He was imagining dancing around the living room with her, wine-drunk and laughing, pulling her in for a messy kiss in front of the sofa. He could see himself proposing, slipping a ring on her finger and bringing her home to that apartment to celebrate. Haechan had visions of her cradling a baby in front of the big living room window that overlooked the city; visions of holding chubby hands while tiny feet stood atop his own for their first assisted steps, of chasing a toddling kid around the apartment with delighted laughter ringing in his ears. He could just imagine Christmas mornings and birthdays and game nights and movie nights and so many happy holidays with both of their families crammed in that apartment.

Haechan had it all planned out.

His future.

His future with her.

But hours later on that Thursday, Haechan feels his entire planned out future with her come crashing down around him.

She was an enchantress, seducing him right there on the sofa in his and YangYang’s apartment, and he was usually pretty jealous about sharing her, but he didn’t even care when YangYang walked in on them, when YangYang pretended like he wasn’t the one watching Haechan have sex (for a change). That part of the evening was good, even if his phone kept buzzing with messages from his mom throughout it all.

But then, afterwards, in that blissful afterglow as he’s cuddling her, she pulls the truth from him at last.

He admits the horrible truth: he hasn’t told his family about her.

She sits there, staring at him with angry tears beading in her eyes, her voice growing louder as she grows more upset, and his stupid fucking mental block just still won’t let him get the words out, won’t open up to let him tell her his (admittedly shitty, he realizes) excuses as to why he hasn’t told his family about her. But he’s trying. He’s trying to tell her, but the words that do manage to escape his mental block are coming out wrong, and YangYang emerges from his room at the sound of raised voices to intervene, and Haechan is at a loss.

She disappears to his bedroom, and Haechan assumes that she’s just in there to cool off, to calm herself down before she’ll come back out here, and they can talk about it again.

But when she reappears, she’s dressed in her own clothes instead of his shirt, and she keeps walking, heading right for the door of the apartment.

That’s when he really feels it, when he really knows that he fucked up, and he feels all the fractures in his bright future of them together in that apartment that feels more like a home.

“Where are you going?” He asks, trying to keep his voice from sounding as broken as he feels.

“I’m fucking leaving,” she spits back, blowing right by where he’s still sitting on the sofa talking to YangYang.

She can’t go. He’s always hated to watch her leave, but especially now when she’s this angry. He wants to talk to her, to actually get his words out.

All he manages is her name.

She pauses, her hand on the door handle.

“Stay,” he tries to say, but the word won’t come. It’s stuck in the back of his throat as he stares at her back, as he watches her head tilt slightly in the way he’s noticed it does when she’s really annoyed. She waits a few seconds, waits for Haechan to fail to find his voice, and then she throws the door open and vanishes through it.

Fuck. 

He doesn’t think he sleeps at all that night. 

He doesn’t know how many times he gets up and starts to pull on clothes and look for his shoes to go over to her place and talk to her. But each time he talks himself out of doing it. 

She was really angry when she left, so he doubts that she wants to see him or even hear from him right now. He does check her location (bless the app that lets them see where each other is at) to make sure that she at least made it home. And honestly, he periodically watches that little blue dot sit there at her apartment throughout the night. 

Haechan misses her. There aren’t many nights that they’ve spent apart since they started dating. He misses having her beside him, misses the warmth of her body but the cold press of her toes against his calf. He misses the smell of her shampoo when she rolls closer to him in her sleep. He misses her soft sighs and the sleepy mumbles she makes throughout the night. He misses just having her there, and he hates knowing that she’s sleeping in her own bed, angry with him. He hates sleeping alone. 

Eventually he must’ve dozed off for a little bit because when he opens his eyes again, it’s daylight. 

He has a plan. It developed sometime between three and four o’clock this morning, so it could’ve been a horrible plan, but even now in the light of morning Haechan thinks it could work. 

First step: call his mom. 

“Good morning, son,” his mom answers the call with a yawn. “Are you on your way already?”

“Not yet.” He’s still sitting in bed actually, still not dressed, still working up the courage to just get over the mental block. He says, “I’m catching a bus south in a couple hours. Listen, Mom….”

But that’s it. His voice stops. He pauses, and his mom is his favorite because she doesn’t rush him to say it, she waits and he can hear the sound of birds in the background and the breeze on her end of the phone call. She was probably out taking a morning walk or drinking her coffee out in front of the house or maybe shaking out the rugs as she prepares the house for him to come home. 

Finally, after a few long seconds, Haechan asks, “Do you think we have room for one extra person this weekend?”

“Of course!” She says with no hesitation. “Who’re you bringing?”

Haechan has brought friends home before. Mark, Jeno, Renjun, the most. Chenle was his mom’s favorite, though, so he knows she’s hoping he’s the one Haechan is bringing to visit. 

Haechan just clears his throat, shifts around in his bed. 

“Donghyuck?”

He takes a deep breath, and Haechan’s pulse picks up a nervous beat. “Not any of the guys. A girl. My girlfriend. I’d like to bring her home this weekend.”

There’s a flood of questions, of course, plus a huge weight lifted off of Haechan’s chest. Immediately, his mom just accepts it, and Haechan realizes he’s been a fool to be so stressed over this. She sounds delighted and just excited for Haechan, asking him everything about his girlfriend — what’s her name, what does she do, how long they’ve been together. She does, in fact, gasp and tell him he’s ridiculous for not having told her about his girlfriend when he admits that they’ve been together for five (almost six) months. 

A call from Ten at work is what gets Haechan to end the call with his mom eventually. He switches over to Ten’s call. 

“Yeah?”

“Dude, did you do it?” Ten asks, excitement in his voice. 

Haechan sits up in bed, running his fingers through his hair in an effort to tame the tussled mess. He needs to get up and get ready. “Did I do what?”

Ten makes a soft sigh of annoyance. “Propose, duh. You’re off today, off all next week. Your girlfriend called out today and also has all of next week off. Yuta thinks that you must’ve proposed last night, and you two were so busy celebrating last night that she called out sick this morning.” Ten laughs, and Haechan can hear Yuta’s voice in the background too. 

His stomach clenches. “No, I didn’t propose. Where did you two get that idea?”

She called out sick? Is she sick? Is she okay?

“Because you’re so lovestruck, both of you, that it’s only a matter of time, isn’t it?” Ten says. 

Haechan hears something from Ten’s end of the call, a small sound of distress, and then Yuta’s voice is the one on the call, demanding, “Don’t tell me you’re not planning to propose to her?”

“I don’t see how it’s any of your business.” Haechan isn’t going to give his proposal plans to the two biggest gossips in the Moon Corporation. When he proposes (because it’s only a matter of time, like Ten said), he doesn’t necessarily want her to hear about it ahead of time from their coworkers. 

Yuta snorts. 

“Is she really not at work today?” Haechan’s stomach gives an odd loopy feeling as he asks that. “She called in sick?”

“Yeah, first thing this morning. Didn’t you know?” A pause, and then Yuta gasps, “You two didn’t split up, did you?”

Ten’s distressed voice butts in, “Excuse me? They what?”

Oh, God. These two are going to start rumors. 

“No,” Haechan emphasizes, “We did not split up. I’m hanging up. Bye.”

Hopefully they don’t spread their false rumors around work, Haechan thinks. But now that he knows that she’s not at work, it makes step two of his plan a little easier. 

Second step: apologize to his girlfriend. 

He finishes packing his bag for the trip home pretty quickly after ending the call with his mom. 

As he moves around the apartment, gathering his clothes from the clean basket of laundry he’d left sitting in the living room, his toiletries from the bathroom, a few gifts he’s picked up for his family members since the last time he’s seen them, Haechan notices YangYang is awake too. It’s early for his roommate to be up, and especially early for YangYang to be out of his bedroom, but YangYang is sitting in their kitchen talking on the phone with someone in a low voice.

Haechan can’t miss the way YangYang is watching him closely, and he wonders what his roommate’s problem is. 

He leaves about twenty minutes later, his packed bag slung over his shoulder as he heads over to her place. 

He texts her when he’s halfway there, realizing that she might not appreciate it if he drops in unannounced.

When she hasn’t answered by the time he arrives at her apartment door, when she doesn’t answer his knock at the door, he texts again. He calls. And when both of those still go unanswered, he begins to panic a little bit. 

Is she okay? Is she actually sick? Is she ignoring him? Does she really just not want to see him or hear from him? Did he seriously fuck up and ruin a good thing by not telling his family about her? Was their fight last night the last one? He just needs it to not be the end, needs to talk to her and apologize. 

For several more minutes, Haechan continues to knock on the door and call her, growing more desperate as the minutes pass by. 

And then he hears it. A faint click. 

The door opens a few inches, just a wide enough gap for him to see her standing there. She’s dressed in just a hastily wrapped towel, her hair still dripping, and her skin covered with water droplets. 

Haechan, in that instant, forgets all of his worries. She is fresh from the shower and he can smell her shampoo again, and for the first time in about twelve hours, he feels himself relax a bit. He wants to push the door the rest of the way open, to hold her close and breathe her in. He wants to taste her skin and her lips and every part of her, to apologize and beg for her forgiveness. 

But she only cracked the door open enough for them to talk, just wide enough for him to see a few inches of her. It’s maddening, really. His need for her, his need to be forgiven by her, is overwhelming and drives him down to his knees to beg her forgiveness. 

And maybe, as he sinks down, he remembers Yuta and Ten’s questions about him proposing, and maybe Haechan drops down on one knee first. He just wants to see her reaction — the wide-eyed look of surprise when she thinks for a brief moment that he might be proposing. 

Instead he begs her forgiveness with a simply put, “Will you please forgive me, baby? My angel?” And then he adds on the big request, his genuine question, “Forgive me, and come with me this weekend. Come meet my family.”

“You’re a dick!” She whines adorably, but a smile is dancing at the corners of her lips, her eyes are focused only on him as she opens the door wider at last. 

“What?” Haechan laughs, “Did you think I was going to ask you something else?”

She rolls her eyes, but he can tell by the way she’s fighting down a smile and the way that she leaves her apartment door open for him as she walks away, that she’s forgiving him. But he needs to hear it in words, needs to hear her invite him in. 

“What’s your answer?”

“Just come inside!” She laughs. 

He can’t even begin to describe how light and relieved he feels now. Both of the heavy weights that have been settled on him for too long now have lifted. He’s got her forgiveness, he’s told his mom about her, he’s taking her to meet his family. 

As he follows her inside to her bedroom, all he wants is to lead her into distraction. He wants to tug that towel off of her and slide into bed with her, to take his time tasting every inch of her. But he knows he can’t. If he wants to make it home to visit his family any time today, they need to leave soon. 

Haechan puts aside those desires. 

Undeniably, as they leave her apartment, his relief begins to give way to nerves. 

In several hours he’ll  finally be introducing her to his family. This isn’t anything he’s ever done before with any of his past partners. 

Bringing them home. 

Of course, he’s never felt this way about anyone but her. 

“Relax,” she says as they board the bus that is taking them south to catch the ferry to Jeju. “I don’t get what you are so nervous for. They’re your family!”

She places her hand on his thigh, and Haechan immediately covers her hand with his, lacing their fingers together where her warm hand rests against his bare skin above his knee. “I’m nervous because I’ve never introduced them to any of my previous partners. They’ve just met my friends.”

She smiles and leans over, tipping her head against his shoulder. Haechan’s heart races, his fingers tightening against hers. “I’m excited,” she tells him quietly. “I want to meet them. You’ve talked about them all enough over the years I’ve known you, it’s certainly about time. But I’m excited too that this is the first, like, weekend away we’re taking together.”

“We’ve been on tons of trips together before.” Haechan looks down at her just in time to see her roll her eyes. “What?”

“I mean, our first weekend away as a couple.” 

Oh.

“I know it’s not like a proper weekend away as a couple. We’re going to visit your family, not take a romantic trip together.” She presses her cheek against the round curve of Haechan’s shoulder. “But I’m still excited.”

He should take her on a real weekend trip. One that can be as romantic and sexy as she’d like. 

They both take naps while the bus carries them south. Her head bobs on his shoulder, his cheek pillowed against the top of her head. Haechan has the distinct feeling that neither of them slept too well the night before, aware that they’d been fighting, and both of them less comfortable in bed without the presence of each other. 

So they sleep, wrapped up together, and Haechan never wants to let her go again.  

Haechan’s worst fears (he’s dramatic) are confirmed the moment that his mom opens the door to greet them. 

Her smile is wide — a mirror of his own smile, honestly — as she drinks in every last detail of Haechan’s sleepy and damp girlfriend. 

The evening is gloomy, a light rain drizzling over them as they make their way to his childhood home, and his girlfriend isn’t even fully awake after the nap she’d also taken on the ferry ride over. 

Haechan watches his mom’s face. Her eyes go slightly wide as she looks at his girlfriend, as everything clicks in her mind — the name he’d mentioned earlier this morning finally registering in his mom’s mind as the name he’s been mentioning for years — and then her gaze slides to her son, her eyes alight as she says, “Well, it certainly took the two of you long enough to get here! And I don’t just mean today! This is your friend, isn’t she? The one from school?”

Haechan feels his face heat up as he pulls ahead of his girlfriend, hurrying forward to embrace his mother and hopefully get her to stop talking before she reveals something embarrassing. They at least need to make it in the door before she does that. 

Behind him, he hears his girlfriend laughing, and in his ear his mom laughs as well. 

It turns out that his tight hug doesn’t cut off his mom’s words. “He used to show us pictures of all of your friends, tell us stories all about you! He talked about you all—“

“That’s enough, Mom.” Haechan cuts her off. 

“Oh, come on, Donghyuck.” She smiles warmly at him as she pulls back from his hug. “Come inside. Come in, dear,” she says kindly, waving Haechan’s girlfriend forward. “I’m so excited to meet you! Donghyuck has never brought someone home to meet us before! We were starting to wonder if he was embarrassed by us or just unlucky in love.”

He knew that his mom would make a big deal out of this, tease him about it. 

“It’s my birthday, Mom,” he whines, stepping over the threshold. “Be nice to me.”

She lifts a hand to pat his head, smoothing his hair down gently. “Yes, son, of course,” she says placatingly, but he doesn’t miss the wink and smile she sends over his shoulder to his girlfriend. “No embarrassing stories at all.”

That promise lasts at least for a little while, but of course it’s impossible to keep. Maybe it doesn’t happen immediately, but try as he might to keep his family from sharing weird and embarrassing stories about him, they manage to tell her some anyway over the next few days. Over dinner and breakfast, during excursions around the island or to the beach, his mom and siblings share stories, some of which include times that he’d talked all about her long before this relationship began. Even when his mom gets around to interrogating her about her past and her present and hopes for the future, they manage to embarrass Haechan. 

Especially on Monday night, hours before his birthday actually begins. 

Haechan is minding his own business, helping clean up the mess from their meal, but he can hear his mom and his girlfriend talking in the next room. 

Unsurprisingly, his family likes her. He truly had nothing to worry about there. They get along even better than he could have hoped for, which is almost too well if he really thinks about it. His mom and his siblings laugh and joke around with her just as they do with Haechan, and his sister is already calling her “unnie” so affectionately, and his mom kept offering to take photos of them together when they all went down to the beach earlier that day. 

Haechan had finally acquiesced after his girlfriend curled her fingers around his wrist, tugging him towards her as she smiled. The wind was blowing through her loose hair, and the sun was shining from her cheeks, and she met his eyes as she said, “Come on, Donghyuck-ah, take a picture with me for your mom.” 

They’d stood in front of the sea, their bare toes buried in sand. Haechan put his arm around her waist as she tucked herself against his side. In the split second before his mom snapped the photo of them, he felt the woman at his side twist to face him, and she pressed a kiss to his cheek, her hand pressing against his other cheek to keep him from pulling away in surprise. 

His mom laughed, and Haechan watched the happy expression on his mom’s face as she squinted down at the picture in her phone. Her smile filled her face. “Cute, you two! Very cute. But let’s just get a normal one now!”

Haechan had suffered through a miniature photoshoot, dramatically sighing and complaining the whole time, but inside he was thoroughly enjoying it. Already, he’d been thinking about asking his mom to send him all the photos, thinking about which ones he was going to post on Instagram in his photo dump of this weekend. 

Even once their impromptu photo session was over, Haechan didn’t let go of her. He’d clung to her at the beach, unwilling to let her too far mostly because he’d noticed the gazes of several strangers straying towards her. 

“Jealous, baby?” She’d teased him when she noticed the reason for his extra-clinginess. And then she’d placed a gentle hand on his cheek as she tipped in on her toes to kiss him softly. “You know I’m not going anywhere, right? You’re stuck with me.”

Now, as he stands in the kitchen of his childhood home washing the dishes, Haechan is still thinking about that moment. He’s reliving the feel of the warm sunlight and the sea breeze on his skin. The softness of her palm and fingers against his cheek, the whisper of her lips on his, her sweet voice making that statement that sounded like a promise. 

He wants it to be a promise. 

And in the next room, it seems like his mom is thinking the same thing. He can hear their conversation as he scrubs out a pot. 

“Donghyuck says the two of you are moving into an apartment together?” His mom says, “When is that happening?”

“We’re still looking, but we’ll hopefully have one by the time our leases are up. So by about the end of this month,” is her answer, but what he doesn’t necessarily expect to hear is his girlfriend saying, “You all should definitely come visit! We’re looking for a two-bedroom, so there’ll be room. My family are already planning to come help me move my stuff over to the new place, but honestly I think it’s an excuse for my mom to fawn over Haechan a little more. She adores him probably more than she does me.”

“Does she want him as a son-in-law as much as I want you as a daughter-in-law?”

Haechan drops the pot he’s scrubbing. Did his mom really just say that?

His girlfriend laughs. “She’s mentioned it a few times. The first day they met him, my mom brought up babies.”

The sounds coming from the other room increase, laughter and excited noises. He knows his mom would love a little grandbaby to dote on, she likes babies and always has liked their little chubby cheeks and contagious bubbling laughter. She’s been talking for years about future grandchildren, though she’s always followed that up with a bit of advice to marry the girl first before the babies. 

Haechan hasn’t even mentioned yet to his mom that he thinks this is the girl he wants to spend the rest of his life with, but judging by what she’s just said and the excited sounds from the other room, he’s sure that she’ll support him. Hell, she might even push him to do it as soon as he mentions it. 

He focuses on washing the rest of the dishes, and he loses track of the conversation in the next room.

All he knows is that when he emerges from the kitchen some time later, his fingertips are pruned and the front of his shirt is wet from where he accidentally slopped water down his front. Still, his girlfriend happily scoots aside to make a little room for him on the sofa, and he sinks down beside her so close that they’re pressed together from thigh to shoulder. 

She slides her hand over his thigh, letting it rest just above his knee. 

She’s deep in conversation with his family. It seems they’re debating the plot of some drama they all watch. Haechan has come in in the middle of it, so he keeps quiet, just watching her face as she talks and listens, the way her eyes light up right before she speaks up to make a point, her fingers curl in against his leg. 

She’s beautiful, sexy when she gets into it like this. He loves when her eyes blaze with determination to make a point. A lot of their little fights usually end with sex because he just finds the heat inside her so attractive. 

Just like right now. 

She’s busy arguing with one of his younger brothers, and Haechan is fighting down a boner. 

Her hand on his leg isn’t helping matters as she keeps gripping and rubbing his thigh. 

Haechan can only take so much of it before he feels like he’s at risk of doing something dangerous like moaning if she drags her nails along his inner thigh one more time. 

Carefully, he brushes her hand off his leg, and he stands up. “I’m gonna go shower,” he offers as an excuse for his escape. 

Barely anyone acknowledges it, but as Haechan turns to leave the room, he looks back over at her, momentarily catching her eye. The corner of her mouth ticks up into a little smile, something blossoming in her eyes, but then she looks away. Haechan leaves, wondering if she’d been touching him like that on purpose. 

Less than ten minutes later, Haechan is standing in the shower, when he hears the door of the bathroom open. He pops his head out of the shower to see who’s entered the room, and there she is. 

“Come here,” she demands. “Right now.”

There’s plenty of heat in her voice, but not the angry sort. 

As Haechan steps out of the shower, leaving the water running behind him, he watches her sink quickly to her knees in front of him. Clearly, she has one intention.

“Did you do that on purpose out there?” He asks, “Did you get me hard on purpose, angel?”

She looks up at him through her eyelashes. “What? I was just rubbing your thigh.” She tries to play it innocent, but she’s literally on her knees for him, and Haechan is no fool. She smiles up at him, and if anything that makes him even harder, knowing she was playing games with him. And even now, she keeps her tone innocent as she lets filthy words spill from her lips, asking, “Do you want me to suck your cock, Haechan? Wanna cum in my mouth?”

Does she even really have to ask? Of course he wants that. 

She leans in and starts licking water droplets from his skin while her hand wraps around his needy cock, Haechan is so grateful. He sighs, pressing his damp fingers through her hair.

“Gotta be quick,” she murmurs against his hip. “They think I’m just taking a bathroom break.”

Haechan hums, pressing his fingers encouragingly against her scalp, urging her mouth away from his hip to his cock. 

And she goes where he guides her, like the good girl she is. 

She gives him quick, sloppy head, swallowing around his cock until his tip hits the back of her throat with each bob of her head. The sounds of the shower running behind him help drown out the sounds they’re making — her soft gags and moans around him, his sighs and quiet curses as she sucks him off until his knees are going weak, his toes curl against the bathmat on the floor. 

It’s over faster than Haechan would like to admit. She has him cumming too quickly, but it’s knee-wobblingly good as she draws back until just her lips are tight around his tip, swallowing down each pulse of his cum across her tongue. His fingers grip tightly to sections of her hair, fucking it up completely. 

He sinks to his knees in front of her, smoothing his hands over her hair in an attempt to fix his mess, and then Haechan crushes his mouth against hers. 

He can taste himself on her tongue, the bitter tang, but he doesn’t care. He could happily kneel here and kiss her until the water runs cold in the shower, but before they get anywhere close to that point, she pushes against his chest with a groan. 

“I need to go back.” Her actions are contrary to her words as she dips forward to kiss him again. Haechan smiles, knowing that all it would take is him asking and she would just join him in the shower. She pushes herself away again, saying, “I don’t want your family knowing we’re in here having sex. Not when I’m just getting them to know and like me.”

Haechan can’t help the snort of a laugh that escapes him. “Baby, they’re gonna love you no matter what. Your family loves me and they walked in on us.”

She wrinkles her nose and stands up, drawing farther and farther away from him. “It’s different. But I hope you know you owe me now for what I just did.”

Haechan’s tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Later, angel. I promise.”

She turns and slips away from the room. He gets back in the shower, and now without the distraction of his erection, he passes through the motions much quicker. 

But while he’s in there he can’t help thinking about how she’s still so nervous about his family liking her. They clearly like her. There was really never any chance of them not liking her, which he’d realized as soon as he brought her up to his mom on the phone. 

He’d had his worries before then, obviously. It was part of the reason why he’d not mentioned her to his family. But after their fight the other night, after she left and he sat there talking to YangYang, his roommate helped him see light on the matter. 

Hours after she stormed out of the apartment, during one of the times Haechan had halfway convinced himself to go apologize, YangYang stopped Haechan in their living room, and asked him where he was going. That had given Haechan pause, and he’d sat down beside YangYang on the sofa and started actually talking with him.

“What if they don’t like her?” He’d finally admitted aloud to YangYang.

“You’re a fucking dumbass,” was YangYang’s point-blank reply. “Why wouldn’t they like her? And even if they don’t like her, you do. She’s your girlfriend, Haechan. Just last week, you were moaning about how much you love her and can’t wait to move in with her.”

Still, the thought of that makes Haechan smile. He’s excited to move in with her, to have no reason anymore to spend a night away from her, to get to wake up to her every day. He doesn’t care that when he says stuff like that to YangYang, to Renjun, to his other friends they tease him for being that way because, yeah, he’s in love with his girlfriend; he’s not going to pretend he doesn’t like her, like he doesn’t spend every waking moment wishing he was with her. 

So like YangYang said, it shouldn’t matter if his family doesn’t like her. But lucky for Haechan, they do like her. Unlucky for Haechan, now he’s definitely worried that they like her so much that while he’s standing up there finishing his shower, they’re all downstairs regaling her with stories about him that would embarrass the ever living shit out of him.

He hurries to dress again in something comfy, and he returns to the living room with his family and his girlfriend, immediately settling beside her. 

For hours they sit there, talking, playing games, and snacking with his family. Midnight approaches, and with it is Haechan’s birthday. 

He’s trying not to watch the clock, trying to not count down the seconds like he’s a kid again. He remembers birthdays in his childhood when he’d lain in bed, wide awake at midnight with excitement pulsing through his veins. Years as he grew older, hanging out with friends at midnight, celebrating as the clock turned over. 

Specifically he remembers a few years ago, the months between his first and second year of university. 

It was summertime, a brutal summer with exhausting heat that just leached the energy out of everyone. But all of his friends had come together that night to go out to a fancy rooftop bar. As midnight ticked nearer, as Mark and then Jeno and then Renjun and then strangers bought him drinks after drinks, Haechan felt himself growing happier and more excited for what his birthday tomorrow would bring and he felt lighter, light enough that he could just float off into the starry summer night. 

“Happy Birthday, Donghyuck!” said a voice from right behind him. 

He felt a hand clasp onto his, and he turned to look and found one of his newest friends standing there. He’d known of her since his first day of orientation, but it was really only within the last couple months of the second semester that he’d started to really, actually get to know her. And tonight she’s here to celebrate his birthday, and she’s holding his hand and looking at him with starry eyes that seem to mirror the night sky, and she just called him by the name his mother gave him. 

“You know we’re friends now,” Haechan told her, “You can call me Haechan. My friends call me Haechan. Donghyuck just sounds so….”

She laughed. “I like your name. Donghyuck. Donghyuck-ah. I like it.” She smiled softly, then said, “Haechan, too. It’s a bright name. A happy name. Happy birthday!” 

Cries of “Happy Birthday!” sounded from all around them. But she was still holding onto Haechan’s hand, and she murmured his name again, just a quiet “Haechan,” before she suddenly threw her arms around him, dragging him into a hug. 

It was a tight hug and warm, and Haechan felt every inch of her pressed against him. He slung an arm around her waist to return the embrace, and he couldn’t help, in that moment, letting the alcohol in his veins mix with the warm press of a soft body against him to feed his imagination. 

Maybe he should have known then.

She’d left him a moment after their hug, disappearing off to drink with Mark, and Haechan had ended the night with some random girl. And the same thing had happened the year after that and the one after that; as long as they’d been friends, she’s always been one of the first to wish him a Happy Birthday. 

This year is no different. 

At 11:59 PM, she twists around from where she’s reclining against his chest. 

“Happy Birthday, Donghyuck,” she wishes him, and then presses a kiss to his cheek. 

The clock strikes midnight, and around him his family wishes him a Happy Birthday as well, which means a lot to him, but not as much as the sound of her voice in his ear, the feel of her lips against his cheek even as he starts smiling at his family, the weight of her hand against his chest over his heart and her body resting back between his legs. 

He wraps his arms around her, refusing to let her up – not that she’s planning to go anywhere. 

A while later when his younger brother can no longer suppress his yawns, they all start to drift away towards their beds. 

Haechan happily and excitedly leads his girlfriend back to his childhood bedroom. In the years since he moved away for school, his bedroom has been taken over by one of his younger siblings, but for this weekend it’s Haechan’s again. The twin bed he spent years sleeping in is his again, and all weekend it has been a tight fit for both him and his girlfriend to sleep in, but tonight he’s glad about that. He wants to be as close to her as possible. 

She giggles (and his heart leaps in his chest) when Haechan shuts and locks the bedroom door, when he leads her by the hand over to the bed. He sits down heavily on the edge of it, guiding her to stand between his knees. 

“What are you doing?” She asks, her voice light, a smile gracing her lips. 

“Claiming my present. Paying you back for earlier.” Haechan slips his fingers into the waistband of the shorts she’s wearing. 

She pushes her fingers into his hair, combing his hair back off his forehead as he looks up at her. She asks, “Right now? Your whole family is here, just outside these walls. And it’s so quiet.”

Haechan grins. “You just have to be quiet. I know you can do it, angel.” Nevermind that he can hear water running in the bathroom, he can hear someone shifting in the bed next door. These walls are thin, but he knows that his girlfriend can be quiet if she puts her mind to it; there’s a reason she’s only been caught once — and it wasn’t due to her making noise. 

“Okay?” He checks with her, looking up into her eyes even as he starts to slide her shorts down her hips an inch. “Can I pay you back, baby?”

She swallows nervously and then nods. 

Haechan slides her shorts down until they drop to pool around her ankles. And then he moves to her shirt, fingers moving upwards beneath the fabric, over her belly, pushing her top up as he goes. 

She pouts, a vision of frustration when she reaches down to grab the hem of her shirt, and she drags it over her head instead of waiting. 

“Beautiful.” Haechan leans in, pressing his mouth against the curve of her hip, nipping slightly. Her answering sigh encourages him, and he kisses to the edge of her panties, leaving kisses all along the edge as he works his way towards the front and center, just beneath her belly button. 

Her fingers twist slightly in his hair. “Go on,” she sighs, tugging a little. 

Haechan smiles. He can almost smell her, can just imagine the taste of her on his tongue. Just the other night, before their fight, she’d ridden his face on the sofa and he’d been in heaven like that. Right now he almost wants to do it again, to fall backwards on his childhood bed and have an angel sit on his face. 

But he doesn’t do that. He knows she wants him to touch her, to kiss and lick and taste her. He waits. He teases, kissing her abdomen, drawing his nose from the edge of her panties, up to her navel and higher until he’s sitting up straight with his face at her chest. Now her fingers drag at his hair, a very quiet sound of desperation breathes past her lips. 

“It’s your birthday,” she tells him, “Don’t you just want to do it? Why are you taking your time?” 

Haechan smiles as he slides a hand up her back. “I’m savoring my present. Savoring you. I love the way you react to me, baby.” 

She presses closer to him when his fingers rising up her back reach the band of her bra, and Haechan quickly unfastens it. She sighs, and whether it’s due to the anticipation of him touching her tits or whether it’s the relief of being freed from her bra, he doesn’t know or care. She slides her arms out of the straps, lets her bra join her shirt and shorts on the floor, and then she drops her head back with a sigh as Haechan starts attending to her chest. 

He remembers the first time he really noticed her boobs: the night in the hot tub. He’d glanced over while they were all talking and laughing, and he’d happened to look down and seen the way that the string lights above the hot tub were reflecting on the water. Specifically the water that was lapping against her breasts where they rose out of the water. And he could see the thin fabric that had grown semi transparent beneath the water’s surface. And later that night when they’d shared a bed, he’d stared at them too, imagining how soft and nice they must be to touch. 

And in the present, as he palms one breast while he worships the other with his lips and his tongue, Haechan wishes (not for the first time) that he’d made a move that night. He missed out on so much time that he could’ve been with her like this just because he’d been too dumb and blind to notice what was right in front of him. 

Haechan drops his free hand down between her legs, and she shudders with another sweet sigh when he touches her over her panties, sliding a finger over the fabric, passing her clit so he can feel how wet she is, where she’s got a damp spot soaking through her panties. 

He thinks again about how much he enjoyed her sitting on his face the other night, and he really wants that to happen again, to feel her suffocate him against her pussy, smother him between her thighs. But he shouldn’t tonight. This bed is old and it squeaks and he’s sure that her riding his face is going to make a racket that will attract the attention of his family. 

Haechan slides off the edge of the bed to kneel on the floor, and he kisses down from her chest to her belly to the edge of her panties. 

She sighs his name, barely above a whisper, when his lips move over the front of her panties. Her fingers tighten, yanking at his hair, when Haechan licks over her clit through the panties while his fingers stroke slowly against the growing damp spot. 

He doesn’t remove her panties. He doesn’t even pull them to the side yet, but just licks and kisses and touches her over them. 

He waits until her fingernails drag over his scalp, her hands tugging at his hair to get him closer, her thighs twitching and a desperate hiss of his name—

Haechan drags her panties aside, his tongue meeting her clit. She rolls her hips against the heat of his mouth, and Haechan eagerly dives in deeper, wanting to feast on her, to devour the sweet taste of her pussy. Of course, he wishes more than anything to hear her moaning his name while he does it, but in the present circumstances, it would be better if she didn’t. 

She shudders and trembles against him with every drag of his tongue, and it gives Haechan such a headrush to have her like this, falling apart just with a few flicks of his tongue. 

“Hyuck,” she whispers, pressing her fingers into his hair, pushing slightly. “I’m gonna cum. Stop.”

Reluctantly, Haechan sinks back on his heels. He can feel her dampness on his lips and chin as he looks up at her. He can smell her arousal clinging to him and also so close at hand as she shifts on her feet. He just watches as she reaches down to push her panties off, letting them slide down her legs until she can step out of them, flicking them over to join the rest of her discarded clothes. 

Almost involuntarily, Haechan leans in, drawn towards the tantalizing taste between her legs. 

She jabs a finger against his forehead, stopping him. 

Haechan whines before he can catch himself. 

 “I don’t want to stop. The whole point is getting you there, returning the favor.” He pushes forward against her hand on his forehead until she removes it. He nuzzles against her bare thigh, leaving kisses up and down her left thigh. 

“No,” she whispers, “Fuck me. I want you inside me.”

Haechan doesn’t need telling twice. 

He curls his hands around the backs of her thighs, sliding his palms down over the softness of thigh and calves. “Sit down, then, baby,” he tells her gently. 

She lowers herself from standing above him to sitting in his lap. Her arms drape over his shoulders, her bare tits press against his chest, and she kisses him while she knots her fingers through his hair again. 

Haechan is hard again, because of course he is. Having his gorgeous girlfriend sitting in his lap is more than enough to do this to him, but also having just been devouring her pussy got him so hard that his cock is just aching in his shorts. 

He shivers a little when her fingertips brush over his belly, and he makes a little involuntary sound when she starts lifting his shirt. She pulls the shirt up, just breaking their gentle kiss long enough to drag it up over his head and drop it aside. 

Now when she presses herself closer to him, he can feel the press of her tits against his skin. He can feel the softness and warmth of her breasts, the peaks of her nipples. 

She sighs when Haechan slides a hand along her spine, when he shifts beneath her, and Haechan ever-so-carefully tips her backwards. He presses her back to the floor of the bedroom, and he covers her with his body, making sure there’s not an inch of untouched space between them. 

“Come on,” she whines so softly, tugging at his hair. 

Haechan feels the hair-tug right down to his cock, which gives a twitch in his shorts. 

“Need you, Haechan,” she whispers, “I need to feel you.”

As much as he enjoys hearing her beg and whine for his cock, Haechan slides a hand down between their bodies without further preamble. He shoves his shorts down, making a small sound in the back of his throat in relief as his cock springs free, and he gets a hand on himself. 

Something about doing this here on the floor of his childhood bedroom feels so right. He can’t explain it, but it’s a feeling of completeness and rightness, like he’s come full circle from when he was younger, lying in bed as he stared up at the ceiling and dreamed of someday being in love, to now when he’s rolling his hips forward against the love of his life. 

Because that’s what she is. No doubt. 

The absolute love of his entire life. 

He doesn’t even take the shorts fully off, just shoves them down around his thighs. She doesn’t care, she’s too busy panting against his lips as he drags his tip between her legs, feeling her wetness kissing his cock. All it takes is his thumb pressing against his length to direct himself towards her entrance, and then he rolls his hips forward and sinks inside her at last. 

It takes a great deal more effort to keep quiet after that. 

The house around them has fallen mostly silent, but blessedly one of his younger brothers is still awake and is playing video games or a movie in his bedroom, and the sound emanating from there is enough to mask some of the sounds they’re creating right here – their bodies are tangled together on the floor, knotted together with high energy and the inability to make too much noise. 

Her fingernails drag along Haechan’s shoulders and spine, digging in at the small of his back in a way that makes his toes curl, makes him grind his hips forward to be even deeper inside her warm, tight pussy. She’s rolling her hips too, aiming to get his cock to hit in just the right spot, and her breath is just against his lips, an imitation of a kiss. 

He wishes he could fully let go, could move right now and make the sounds right now that he wants to. He wants to treat her as well as she deserves. He wants to bend her into positions that he knows she likes better than just missionary, and he wants to talk to her because he knows that his voice gets her off faster. He wishes they were in the bed instead of the hard floor, although he knows the mattress is squeaky and will announce to the whole house immediately what they’re doing in here. 

He does the most that he can in present circumstances. 

Haechan fits a hand between them, his fingers find her clit. 

She lets out an audible squeak. 

She freezes but Haechan just grins, kissing her quickly before he lifts himself up a bit, putting a little space between her chest and his so he can look down at her spread out beneath him. He wants to see her as he rolls his hips and grinds his cock just right against that particular spot inside her. He wants to see the way that she bites her bottom lip to keep quiet when he plays with her clit. 

One of her hands drifts to her chest, cupping her breast and pinching her nipple between her fingers. Her other hand moves to Haechan’s hip, sliding around to grip his ass. 

The bite of her nails into his skin makes him hiss, makes his hips snap forward hard enough that she slides a couple inches against the floor. A second later he feels her heels against the backs of his thighs as she curls her legs around him to hold him closer.

He draws his thumb in tight circles on her clit, watching the way she squirms, the way her eyelids flutter shut, the way that her pussy eagerly swallows up his cock each time he rolls his hips forward. She’s so wet around him, and he can feel her getting closer, can feel the racing throb of her around his length. Her body is beginning to tense up in anticipation of her climax, and Haechan can feel his own quickly approaching as he watches. 

“Haechan,” she whimpers, and at this point he doesn’t care if it’s loud enough for anyone else to hear. He doesn’t care if they hear the sound that escapes her next — a mixture between a sigh and a whine and a cry. 

All he knows is the sweet release as he follows her over the edge, as he presses himself down over her again, as he captures her lips with his own. 

They drown in each other for a handful of moments, lost in the sensations of their bodies still moving together, taking from each other. 

Haechan is the one that breaks first. She bites his bottom lip and tugs and he forces himself to pull away from her. 

She lies there beneath him on the floor, chest heaving, a smile on her lips that is both pleased and full of challenge. “What?” She asks, her voice so quiet again now. “Where are you going?”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, angel.” Haechan rakes his fingers through his hair. “Keep it up and I won’t be able to stop myself, and we’ll do some serious damage to this bedroom and my relationship with my family.”

Still, she smiles up at him, reaching for his hand even as he pulls out of her and moves like he’s going to stand up. She tries to reel him in again, and Haechan knows it would be so damn easy to give in and lose himself inside her again. He always wants her, and when she’s laid out so invitingly like this, it makes it more difficult to say no. 

“Baby,” he sighs, taking her hand and tugging.

She sits up, still smiling as Haechan leans in to peck her on the lips. “Baby,” she sighs back at him, “Should we just go to sleep then?”

He nods. “Tomorrow we’ll go home. And at the end of the month, you’re all mine. No more roommates to intrude, and then we can just take all the time we want with each other. Any time you want me, angel, you’ll just be able to jump me.”

That makes her laugh, and that sound causes his heart to leap in his chest. 

She grabs his abandoned shirt from the floor, pulls it on and climbs to her feet. Haechan just pulls his shorts back up. He watches as she tiptoes from the bedroom to the bathroom down the hall. 

He’s half asleep already by the time she comes creeping back into the bedroom, quietly pressing the door shut behind her, sliding silently into the tight twin bed to squeeze herself against him. Haechan just opens his arms to let her snuggle in against his chest. The two of them fit tightly together by necessity (the too small bed) and just because they want to (Haechan wants her suffocatingly close, honestly). 

Her lips brush against his chest, her hair tickles his chin, and Haechan just breathes her in, feeling himself relaxing into the bed until sleep sinks over him. 

“You two are gross,” Mark groans from across the room. 

It’s the end of June, and as Haechan is finally moving in with his girlfriend to their new apartment, their friends have come to visit and help with the move. 

To be fair, the “gross” thing that Mark just walked in on is only Haechan hugging his girlfriend. She has her cheek against his shoulder, her arms around his waist, and Haechan’s arms squeeze tight around her shoulders while he rests his head against the top of hers. They’re just taking a pause, a well-deserved moment to drink in their present and their future in the quiet of their new apartment. 

Haechan’s dream apartment. The one he’s envisioned his future with her in. He was lucky that she’d fallen in love with it too upon their first viewing of it, lucky that they got it right away and were able to move in so quickly. 

And now they’ll finally have a place for just them. A quiet sanctuary. 

Well, it was quiet. 

But now Chenle, Xiaojun, and Jeno fill the doorway behind Mark, all of them talking. Then YangYang’s voice cuts through the clamor, saying, “If you think that’s gross, you haven’t spent enough time around them. I’m glad they’ve got their own place now, they’re always going at it like rabbits. I’m tired of hearing it and walking in on it.”

Haechan catches YangYang’s eye, and the younger at least has the decency to look a little embarrassed. 

And then Renjun appears, carrying a heavy box between him and Jaehyun. “Let’s just hope they can keep their hands to themselves when we all go on our trip.”

Jaehyun snickers, glancing over at Haechan’s girlfriend. He tightens his arms around her, feeling a jealous flare as she smirks back at Renjun and his boyfriend. 

“No promises,” Haechan says. “Our last trip everyone was fucking. So I wouldn’t be surprised if it goes the same in Bali.” He looks around the room at everyone – the couples of Renjun and Jaehyun, and Jeno and Jaemin most particularly – and then says, “At least it’s a bigger place and there are less of us this time, so we all get our own rooms.”

Though he has a feeling that that’s going to matter about as much as it did last time. People were still fucking around on their last trip outside of the bedrooms – in that outdoor shower, in the pool, in the kitchen. 

Renjun just laughs and drapes an arm on his boyfriend’s shoulder, leaning against Jaehyun. “The rooms aren’t soundproof, though, Haechan, so you’ll at least have to try to keep the volume down.”

Luckily, his girlfriend takes care of responding by flipping Renjun her middle finger. 

Everyone laughs and gets back to moving boxes and furniture up from the moving truck parked on the street below, but Haechan can’t stop thinking about the jokes from their friends. Their trip is coming up in just a couple weeks, and Haechan is almost certain that he’s not going to be able to keep his hands to himself. As a matter of fact, he’s got certain plans already that make him think that it’s not just going to be him struggling to keep his hands to himself.

He’s still thinking about the trip and his specific plans for it hours later after most of their friends have left, and still when her parents show up with pizza for dinner and also to help with unpacking some of their boxes. 

Haechan is glad to see them. Of course he is. They still have a lot of furniture to put together and boxes to organize, which is why Renjun, Jaehyun, and YangYang are still there, helping Haechan build a TV stand he bought from IKEA. It’s nice to have help, but with the way he’s been distracted for the past few hours, he also desperately wishes that he was alone with her already. 

While her mom helps her with unpacking some of the boxes, her dad comes over to help with the furniture assembly. That would be fine, like Haechan gets along well with her dad on the several occasions they’ve met, but Renjun and YangYang keep making jokes and blunt comments still that Haechan is terrified her dad is going to take the wrong way. 

Specifically jokes about the Indonesia trip and the sort of rules that they should put in place.

Eventually, Haechan sends them on a mission to pick up a few things from the nearest convenience store. Anything to get rid of them for a little bit. 

Haechan can hear his girlfriend and her mom talking quietly in the bedroom. They’ve got music playing over a Bluetooth speaker that mostly drowns out their conversation, and Haechan finds himself glancing towards the doorway. 

She’s laughing with her mom, saying something he can’t quite make out, and she’s holding an ugly sweater up in front of herself. 

Haechan has a vague memory involving that sweater. 

A few years ago while they were in school, an ugly sweater party they’d thrown at the rental house. He remembers that there’d been a gift exchange since it was right before the holiday break, there’d been mistletoe and Christmas lights. All of their friends wore hideous sweaters that ranged from itchy and horribly patterned to obnoxiously festive. They’d decorated cookies with frosting and sprinkles. They’d drunk spiced wine and spiked eggnog. Someone had started Christmas carol karaoke late in the night when pretty much everyone was completely wasted. 

Haechan remembers her wearing that sweater. He remembers that it had been very, very late when he walked onto the front porch, needing a breath of fresh air and a brief break from Xiaojun and Chenle’s karaoke singing. He’d found her sitting on the front step, wearing only the sweater and a pair of hole-y jeans. She’d been sitting there, staring up at the sky as fluffy flakes of snow were drifting lazily towards the ground where there was already a light dusting. The lampposts along the street gave off a pale, silvery ambience, and the whole city seemed so quiet right then except for the house right behind them. 

She’d been shivering when he sat down beside her. 

“You should be wearing a coat, you’re gonna catch a cold.” Haechan wasn’t wearing a coat either, but that didn’t matter so much to him. 

“It’s pretty out here,” is all she said. 

The wind blew a little, sending a couple little fluffs of snow to settle in her hair, and a few loose strands of her hair fluttered against her cheeks. She closed her eyes and tipped her face up. 

Haechan was probably drunk right then. A little more drunk than he’d thought because he was sitting here beside her, and he completely forgot about the girl he’d brought to the party who was sitting inside wearing a holly wreath as a crown and drinking everyone in there under the table. 

He watched her, shivering in her sweater as she enjoyed the wintry chill. She was pretty, so pretty. All haloed with snow and silvery light. She was an angel, a perfect angel, and his heart beat a little faster when she snuck a glance at him. He was staring, but she didn’t seem to mind too much. He figured if she called him out on it, he could tell her he was drunk, but really he just couldn’t bring himself to look away from her. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, to protect her from the cold. He wasn’t sure where that urge came from, but here it was. 

Of course, that night was years before he realized his true feelings. 

But sitting here right now in the living room of their new apartment, watching her laugh with her mom over the ugly sweater, Haechan wonders if she remembers that night. He really had been such a fool to take so long to realize he was in love with her. He should’ve known it that night, but he’d blamed his feelings on the alcohol, he’d pushed them away. 

While they’re alone — her and her mom distracted in the other room, his friends gone temporarily — Haechan talks to her dad. The music from the speaker keeps playing loudly, and Haechan notices her looking out into the living room, checking on him and her dad, but he knows she can’t hear what they’re talking about. 

It’s hours later when her parents are the last to leave. Hugs, handshakes, her dad nodding a goodbye to Haechan at the door. 

The door has barely swung shut behind them before she’s right there, sliding her arms around Haechan’s waist, pressing her chest against his back. Her lips brush his neck. 

“We’re alone,” she sighs. “At last.”

The mattress in the bedroom is brand new, and they break it in that night.

Haechan is enthusiastic as he devours her, kissing her tenderly, taking her apart on his fingers and his tongue before he finally takes anything for himself. He can’t get enough of her, and she can’t satiate her need for him either. 

Thankfully their apartment is a corner apartment, their bedroom right there on the outer edge, so they’re likely not disturbing their neighbors. Except maybe the people living above and below them. But they make no efforts to be quiet. 

It’s quite a while later when she groans and knots her fingers in Haechan’s hair, dragging his mouth away from where he’s sucking a mark against her collarbones. 

“What has gotten into you tonight?” She’s smiling as she says it. “Aren’t you tired yet?”

Maybe he should find an insult in that, but they have gone more rounds than normal, not to mention they spent all day moving heavy furniture and boxes up several floors, so maybe she’s just genuinely amazed that Haechan is still seeking more. 

“I just love you,” Haechan murmurs, lowering his head again. “And we’ve got this place. Our home. I’m just excited and in love. Can you blame me?” He turns his head to the side, and he brushes his lips against her wrist. He can feel her pulse pounding beneath his lips. She sighs. 

Haechan kisses from her wrist to the crease of her elbow. He can smell her perfume underlying the scent of them together. He trails kisses along the rest of her arm to her shoulder, from her shoulder to her neck, her neck to her jaw. 

She swears softly when he deviates to suck lightly at one of her earlobes, nipping lightly with his teeth. He smiles, loving the way she always reacts when he does that, the way that he can feel her tighten around him where he’s still buried inside her. 

He kisses the high point of her cheekbone, kisses her eyelids and her nose, leaves a lingering kiss to her forehead, and he can feel her breath against his throat. Her hands clench against his sides. 

“Haechan,” she breathes out his name. 

He draws his lips back from her forehead. He kisses her nose again, and then he withdraws a few inches to look down at her. 

Her eyes are still closed. Her lips are turned up, seeking, hopefully, begging to be kissed. 

Haechan leans in, still watching her, watching the way her mouth twitches, the way that her lips part with another small sigh. 

He kisses her. 

Not the hungry, devouring kisses of earlier. This one is slow and sweet. She hums, pleased. 

They tangle together one more time tonight. Bodies moving in tandem, slowly, savoring each other, embracing and enjoying the feel of each other everywhere inside and out. 

“Say it,” Haechan murmurs as he teeters on the brink of another orgasm. “Say it, angel.”

He knows she knows what he’s asking for, and she gives it willingly, openly, spilling the words sweetly from her lips pressed against his. 

“Yours. Always yours.” 

Haechan unravels, taking her words as a promise. 

Although he’s fully aware of all the jokes and teasing and fake rules their friends have put into place leading up to this trip, Haechan doesn’t take any of them seriously. 

It’s July now, the heat of summer is devastating, but as bad as it is at home, Haechan knows it’s going to be even worse when they get to Indonesia. He’s already sweating as he and his girlfriend unload from the taxi they took to the airport, baking in the heat, his sunglasses slide down his nose due to sweating. 

Blessedly, the interior of the airport is a lot cooler. By the time they’ve made it through security and have found their gate, Haechan feels a lot better. 

Xiaojun and his girlfriend, YangYang and his flavor of the month, and Jeno and Jaemin are already waiting at the gate. 

Haechan can’t help thinking, as they approach their friends, that they all put a lot of joking rules in place considering it’s only couples coming on this trip. Haechan won’t be surprised if not a single one of the sex rules gets followed this week. They all made it work during their trip to Thailand. 

While Haechan is settling into the seat beside Jeno, his girlfriend excuses herself to the restroom. 

They’ve still got about an hour and a half until their flight is meant to board, but Renjun and Mark, who were the ones who put the most planning into this trip, had told all of them to be here two hours early. Of course, Haechan doesn’t fail to notice that neither one of them is there yet. 

Before she returns from the restroom, Renjun and Jaehyun arrive, looking far fancier than the rest of their friends. Both of them look like they could walk a runway or something, and Haechan can’t deny that it’s not a good look, but it’s overkill since they’re all headed to the tropics. Haechan, Jeno, and Jaemin are dressed in sweatpants and tshirts. 

Haechan leaves his seat behind to go talk with the new arrivals, checking with Renjun about what some of the details of the group itinerary are since he’s the one that booked the villa, some of the dinners, and most of their rentals that had to be booked in advance. Renjun assures him that everything has been booked and scheduled properly in the itinerary that he sent to their group chat. 

Haechan returns to his seat beside Jeno and pulls out his phone to check the itinerary – the plans for dinners and for sightseeing, for excursions at the beach, and more. 

Eventually, she comes back, sliding quietly into the seat beside Haechan. She brought back drinks from Starbucks, passing him one and saving the other for herself. He notices the way she keeps shifting around nervously, crossing and uncrossing her legs, bouncing her feet. He reaches over and lays a hand on her knee. 

“What’s gotten into you?” He murmurs. “You’ve never been a nervous flier before.”

She nods, then leans closer, resting her chin on his shoulder to whisper in his ear. “I want to try something.”

Immediately heat blooms inside Haechan, a rush of heat centered in his lower belly. “Oh?”

“I’m wearing a vibrator,” she hisses the word so quietly that Haechan almost misses it. “And you’re going to control it.”

Dear God, his vision pulses black for a second, his head spins. She’s truly going to be the death of him, he thinks, as his heart races. 

“The rules….” He starts to say, glancing over at where Xiaojun is dozing with his head on his girlfriend’s shoulder, where YangYang is giggling with his girl at something on her phone. 

“As if anyone is going to follow them,” she whispers, “And besides, we have a long wait before we board the plane, a long flight after that. I don’t want to be bored, Haechan.”

There have been a rare few times since they began this relationship that Haechan wonders if he’s bitten off more than he can chew with her and her exhibitionism. 

“Can you really do it here?” He asks. He doesn’t even understand how she snuck a vibrator through the airport security. He’s not going to ask either. “Can you really keep it subtle enough?”

She smiles and pecks him on the cheek. “The app is on your phone, I downloaded it for you yesterday. You’re the one in control. You know what I can take.”

She’s giving him all the power right now? He tries hard to not let that rush immediately go to his head. 

She shifts again in a way that Haechan suddenly realizes is excitement over this situation she’s created for herself. 

“You’re a pervert,” Haechan accuses her softly, adoringly. She smiles sweetly. 

He’s grateful for the fact that he’s got a privacy screen protector on his phone. No one can see the app on his screen as he pulls it up with the help of her whispered instructions, it’s invisible unless they’re standing directly behind him and peering over his shoulder. They might be able to see the delight on his face as he realizes that she’s already gone through all the necessary steps, and all Haechan has to do is control her now. 

He could push her quickly right up to the edge, watch her fight to contain herself. 

Or he could just start her out slow, get her so wet that she’s going to ruin her panties. If she’s even wearing them. He wonders how much she’s really planned this. 

Haechan just starts out the vibration low and constant. She reaches over to hold his hand, and he can feel her pulse thrumming in her wrist where it presses against his. 

He toys with her for the time before they board their flight. He holds conversations with their friends while he messes around on his phone, and each time he jacks up the intensity of her vibrator using his phone, he feels her clutch his hand a little bit tighter. But she’s a good girl, and she doesn’t make a sound. 

Haechan has fun with it, pulsing it rapidly so that her fingernails dig into his skin as she fights to keep control of herself, but then other times hr has it so low and constant that she’s able to catch her breath, able to join in on conversation and look almost as if she’s not hiding this dirty secret in plain sight. 

Best of all is that no one notices. All of their friends are too distracted with each other to take any notice when she slips a little bit every now and then, her face showing a hint of the pleasure she’s feeling. 

When their flight is called to board, Haechan lowers the vibrations to almost nothing, but even then, he notices her legs are a tiny bit wobbly as she gets to her feet, as she clutches at his arm while they walk together to line up with their friends to board. He smiles at her, kisses her forehead, and murmurs, “Should I let you have it, baby? Do you deserve to be rewarded? Or should I make you wait til we get to the house?”

Her fingernails dig into his arm sharply. “I don’t think I can wait.”

“We’ll see.”

On the plane, she’s got a window seat, Haechan takes the middle seat, and the third seat in their row is left open for a stranger.  As soon as she’s settled with her personal item tucked beneath the seat in front of her, her seat belt latched across her lap, Haechan places his hand on her bare thigh. She wore shorts for their day of travel, loose athletic shorts that it’s easy for him to slide his fingers inside of. 

Not that he does that right now. 

Well, he stretches his pinky finger out and traces it along the edge of her shorts, which is enough to make her shiver. She turns her head to look out the plane window at the tarmac, and she presses her mouth into her palm. 

The flight fills in around them. Renjun and Jaehyun are in the row behind them with a sweet old lady who strikes up a conversation with the pair of them. Haechan waits to see who is going to fill in the seat beside him. 

But when the doors of the flight close, the seat remains empty. 

Perfect. 

He waits until they’re properly airborne, until the plane is filled with the dull murmur of conversations, the sharper sound of a baby crying a few rows ahead of them, and it’s then that he ramps the vibrator’s setting all the way up. 

She hisses and clutches at his arm, somehow both squirmy and rigid in her seat. Her eyes are closed, but she still has her head turned towards the window. 

It’s almost a seven hour flight from Seoul to Bali, Indonesia, and Haechan doesn’t intend to torture her with the vibrator for the entire seven hours. That might be a bit too much edging, honestly, but he thinks he can do it for a while, playing with her until she’s desperate for it. 

He rests his free hand on her thigh still, the other is preoccupied with his phone — his thumb sliding up and down to adjust the speed and intensity of his girlfriend’s vibrator. The thumb on his other hand strokes her thigh in a matching pattern. Goosebumps rise on her skin, and she squeezes her thighs together. 

She just wore a thin top today since the heat is going to be so thick once they arrive in Indonesia, and right now Haechan can see her nipples poking against the front of her shirt. She crosses her legs, trapping his hand there in the warmth between her thighs, and he’s sorely tempted to just throw caution to the wind and slide his fingers inside her shorts. Fuck the vibrator, he wants to finger her right here until she’s squirting around his fingers and he has to ask a flight attendant for some napkins. 

“Fuck off,” she whispers when he murmurs his thoughts into her ear. 

Haechan kisses her cheek, slides his fingers a little higher, and he draws his pinky finger along the center seam of her shorts. 

She shivers. 

Haechan grins, and again he whispers to her, asking, “Are you even wearing panties, angel? I swear I can already feel how wet you are.”

“I’m not,” she admits, and her voice gives an odd flutter when he draws his pinky finger in a circle over her clit. “I thought it would be easier if I wasn’t, so I stowed them in my purse when I went to the bathroom. I was hoping that after you got tired of toying with me, you’ll fuck me in the tiny airplane bathroom.”

God, Haechan is so in love with her. 

“I might take you in there,” he says. “Once I’ve had enough of this.” And then he drives the settings high again, watching the way her eyes flutter shut, the way her thighs clench around his hand, and she bites her bottom lip. He slowly lowers the setting until she relaxes again. 

Back and forth, again and again, wilderness with sudden sharp bursts of pleasure, sometimes he drops all the way to the lowest setting. And the whole time, Haechan is touching her — over her shorts, her thighs, holding her hand while she leans over with her head on his shoulder and her teeth scraping his bicep while she tries to keep quiet. 

Haechan is enchanted, endeared by her. 

Her teeth dig into his skin through his shirt as he lets the vibrator pass in a smooth rhythm between two different settings. Her fingernails draw marks into his forearm, and a small whimper manages to escape her as he lets her orgasm at last overtake her. 

She doesn’t say a word as she revels in the feeling, as he keeps his thumb on the screen of his phone, dropping her down to the lowest level and just letting it buzz to elongate her pleasure. She tucks her head into the crook of his neck, and Haechan can feel her breath damp against his skin as she shudders through a second weaker orgasm. 

“I love you,” she mumbles, “Give me, like, five minutes and you can drag me off to that tiny bathroom.”

Haechan laughs. He turns off the vibrator, and slides his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants. “We don’t have to. We still have hours left of this flight, baby. And a whole flight back home at the end of the week.”

She sighs a little, but she settles in against him, relaxing. Soon her breaths grow slow and steady, and Haechan realizes that she’s fallen asleep. 

The rest of the flight is quiet, uneventful, and even when she wakes from her nap a little while later, Haechan insists that they stay in their seats. 

“We don’t want to exert all of our energy now, do we?” He stretches his arms above his head and peeks back over his shoulder to see Renjun and Jaehyun, the latter asleep with his head on Renjun’s shoulder. “I have plans for us, angel. Lots of plans, and some are even ones that our friends definitely won’t approve of.”

Already they’ve made several plans as a group — paddle boarding to this lake just a short distance inland, parasailing, snorkeling, exploring historical structures, etc. — and Haechan has adapted some of his plans to account for those things. 

That answer seems good enough for her. 

The luxury villa is exactly as it was promised on the booking website. A gorgeous pool area with an abundance of lounge chairs and umbrellas, an outdoor jacuzzi, a covered patio with a fire pit and L-shaped sofa, a grilling area and outdoor bar. There are 6 bedrooms, 7 bathrooms, a state of the art kitchen, a small gym. The living room is equipped with large sofas, a massive TV with a sound system, and a pool table, air hockey table, dart board, foosball table, and a ping pong table. There’s wifi and TV, air conditioning, gorgeous views; the villa has everything they could want. 

As soon as YangYang pulls up to the villa in their rental car, there is a mad scramble to get inside and claim the best bedrooms. Each couple gets their own bedroom, their own bathroom. 

There is a main house and then two separate buildings, each one housing two bedrooms, although the main house holds the kitchen, the living room, and the gym. 

Xiaojun and his girlfriend claim one of the rooms in the main house on the basis that Xiaojun is going to be the one using the kitchen the most. Jeno and Jaemin take the second bedroom for the same reason — they’ll be using the kitchen and the gym often. 

YangYang and his girl, plus Mark and his girlfriend share one of the standalone houses, leaving Jaehyun, Renjun, Haechan, and his girlfriend in the other. 

“Don’t forget,” Renjun warns as the four of them step into their shared building. “Just keep the volume down.”

“Maybe we’ll be extra loud just to spite you,” she says quickly in reply.

Renjun opens his mouth to reply, but before he can, Haechan tugs on his girlfriend’s arm to draw her towards the stairs that lead up to their bedroom on the second floor. 

THe bedroom is just as beautiful as the rest of the villa. A wooden floor with soft rugs, a queen sized bed with a netted canopy that can be drawn back or cover the bed. There’s a nice bathroom with a waterfall shower. There’s a balcony that overlooks the beautiful forest view behind the villa as well as a nice view on the other side of the room of the pool area below. 

She slides up behind Haechan while he’s looking down at the pool. She hugs him from behind, her arms around his waist, her cheek against his shoulder. “We still have a few hours before we’re all leaving for dinner,” she says, “Do you want to shower with me? I’ll make good on that promise from earlier.”

Haechan watches Jeno reappear from the main house, taking a running leap before he plunges fully into the pool with a massive splash. Jaemin is close behind him, then Mark joins in too.

Later they’re all driving back into the little tourist town on the beach. They’re going to grab dinner and drinks at a restaurant that has great reviews. That’s hours from now. Plenty of time for him to enjoy his girlfriend the way that she deserves.

“You go in first,” Haechan tells her.

She wanders off, and he takes a few moments to draw the gauzy curtains over the windows looking down to the pool. He doesn’t want to share her with all of them, not now.

She’s already standing bare beneath the spray of the waterfall shower. The shower floor is made up of a few large tiles while the rest is filled in with pebbles. There’s a window overhead and another one that overlooks the forest.

Haechan strips and joins her. He pulls her against him, cradling her face in his hands, and he kisses her like he’s been deprived of her touch for weeks, as if it wasn’t just last night that he pinned her to the couch while they fought over the last bite of the last eggroll from their takeout dinner, and when she stuffed it into her mouth, he’d let her finish chewing it while he looked at her in shock, and then he’d kissed her. She’d teased him afterwards that it was gross that he wanted to kiss her just to get a taste of the eggroll, so he’d kissed her again and kept kissing her for quite a while.

But he can’t help how much he loves her.

He can’t help how often he wishes he was just like this with her: skin-to-skin with nothing in between, tasting her kiss, hearing her soft sounds of pleasure as he slides a hand down between her legs again.

He can’t help the way that his carnal desires take over, his need to be inside her driving him to press her up against that window looking out to the forest. He fits his cock inside her from behind, his hands on her hips as he fills her up again and again. He presses his fingertips between her lips to keep her mouth busy, and she sucks on his fingers like they’re his cock. 

Haechan cums, pulling out just in time to get her lower back, but that’s not enough for her. She only just barely spares a moment to shut off the water before she’s got her hands on his chest, propelling him backwards out of the shower, out of the bathroom, onto the bed. She sits right back on his cock, riding him with her hands on his thighs to steady herself. 

Her hair drips down her back and onto his skin, little cold drops that tickle as they roll across his skin. She looks like a siren, fresh from the sea with her skin and hair so wet, her body rolling on top of him, her head tipped back as she moans for him, sighing his name. Her breasts bounce distractingly on her chest, and Haechan is mesmerized, watching her use his cock to draw her own pleasure, her nipples are pulled into tight peaks, and he can’t help himself when he sits up and latches on to one of them.

She shudders, arching into the heat of his mouth. 

Haechan reaches around her, grabbing her ass, and he squeezes it. She rolls her hips a little faster, but it’s still not enough for him.

He wants to be deeper.

She gasps when he suddenly moves, turning them over so her back is on the bed and he’s above her. 

She’s not being quiet, and he’s not sure if that’s because of what she said to Renjun before they came up here, or if she’s just genuinely enjoying herself that much that she’s being so noisy. Either way, Haechan doesn’t really want to piss off their friends on their first night of the trip, so he leans in and kisses her to get her to quiet down a little.

It works a little bit, but once Haechan really starts moving, snapping his hips forward roughly to get as deep inside her as he can, her cries grow in volume again, even muffled by his mouth on hers. Haechan can tell that she’s getting close, and with each time that she clenches around him, each of her whining moans, he feels himself growing closer too. The knot in his belly draws tighter, and he loves the feeling of being so deep inside her, he really doesn’t want to pull out just to cum on her belly or thighs again. He wants to relish the feeling of his orgasm inside her.

“Can I cum inside?” He gasps the words out against her lips as he feels himself teetering on the brink.

She hesitates for a fraction of a second, but then she nods. “Yes. Inside me. Please, Haechan.”

She so rarely has let him cum inside her, and hasn’t let him do it in what feels like ages, so the feeling of it right now is overwhelming. And the way that she hits her peak at the same moment, just makes it all that much better.

Haechan does her the courtesy of at least pulling out and repositioning her, then he sinks down between her legs. She basically wraps her legs around his head as he cleans her up with his tongue and eats her out.

By the time they descend from their bedroom almost an hour later (after he brings her to orgasm twice more on his tongue and fingers, after they shower off again and get ready for their group dinner), Haechan’s lips feel a little bruised and he feels drunk off the taste of her, but he has a happy girlfriend at his side. 

Haechan wakes the next morning on a deflating pool float that’s halfway submerged on the steps into the pool. He doesn’t really remember how he got there, just that they’d all been drinking a lot of strong stuff at the bar, and then when they got back to the villa there was more drinking. 

He’s not the only one left out by the pool. Mark is asleep on two of the lounge chairs that have been pushed together. Xiaojun’s girlfriend is stretched out on the sofa by the firepit, a bluetooth speaker a few feet away from her still playing music.

Haechan, in his attempt to climb off the pool float, ends up tipping himself into the water, and the shock of the cool water closing over him is enough to fully wake him the rest of the way up, sobering him in an instant.

“Fuck! Shit! Damn it!” He curses as his head breaks the surface. Not that anyone hears him. Both Mark and Xiaojun’s girlfriend are still deep asleep as Haechan sloshes up the steps, splattering the concrete with his footsteps and soaking wet clothes. All the lights are off in the villas, and it’s then that Haechan realizes it’s still very early and it was probably only the deflating of his float letting in the cool water that woke him.

The sun isn’t all the way up yet, just coloring the clouds a pale orange color, and there is a surprising slight chill to the morning air. A short breeze prickles Haechan’s skin as he walks towards his building. 

The door to Renjun and Jaehyun’s bedroom is cracked open, and he can just barely catch a glimpse of their tangled bodies on top of the bedsheets. He climbs the stairs up to his bedroom quietly.

Haechan feels an odd sense of deja vu upon attempting to quietly open the bedroom door. A night so long ago when he cautiously opened a bedroom door, worried about waking the girl in his bed then. That night, he’d startled her awake. Or at least, he’d assumed he’d woken her, it was only all those months later when she finally confessed to him that she had not been asleep but had actually just finished touching herself.

This morning, she doesn’t even stir as he opens the door.

She’s diagonal on the bed, her head on Haechan’s pillow while her body crosses the rest of the mattress. She’s only wearing panties, all the sheets have been kicked to the end of the bed, and as Haechan notices the scattered hickeys on her thighs, a vague memory from last night returns: stumbling up the stairs with her, losing their balance and giggling as they sat down on the stairs, as Haechan untied the wrap dress that she’d worn out to dinner, as he parted her thighs and knelt there on the stairs to eat her out. 

Someone had come in downstairs while they were there on the stairs. Whether it was Renjun or Jaehyun, Haechan didn’t know, but he did finish her off on his tongue, and he’d still been leaving his mark on her thighs when the sound of a door opening downstairs sounded again. And that time they’d been caught, called out by Jaehyun. 

Haechan vaguely recalls laughing as he’d risen to his feet and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. He remembers stumbling back down the stairs and throwing his arm around Jaehyun’s shoulders, asking him not to tell everyone that they’d been breaking the rules against having sex in public spaces of the house. He remembers in blurry bursts, dragging Jaehyun back out to the pool, pouring both of them a few shots, and then the rest of the night vanished.

Haechan doesn’t want to bother her, so he walks quietly across the room to the bathroom. His head is throbbing, so as he waits for the shower to reach a good temperature, he digs through his bag for something to help his headache. By the time he’s finished showering and brushing his teeth, he does feel a bit better, though there’s still a dull pressure behind his eyes.

Coffee is the perfect mend for that, and Haechan brews a cup with a small Keurig that’s sitting on the desk in the bedroom. 

He’s sitting out on the balcony of the bedroom, air-drying all his bits and enjoying the fresh coffee and the quiet sunrise, when the door of the balcony slides open again.

“There you are,” his girlfriend says. “You never came up to bed.”

She’s still only wearing her panties. All the rest of her is bare and exposed in the morning light. He can see the hickeys better now when the sunrise brushes against her thighs.

“I think I tried to drink away Jaehyun’s memory of finding us.” Haechan opens his arms, and she sinks down in his lap, taking the mug of coffee from him as she leans her back against his chest. “But I feel better now than I did earlier.”

She hums into the mug, keeping it cradled in her hands. 

For a few moments, they’re both quiet, enjoying the peaceful sunrise, the mist rising from the forest into the golden sky. 

“I like it here,” she shares, “Like, of all the places we’ve been, I think I like it here the best.”

“We’ve been here not even a full day, and for half of the time we’ve been drunk,” Haechan reminds her. “But I agree. It’s nice here like this.”

There aren’t many nice vacations he’s been on where he can sit on a second floor balcony and enjoy an unobstructed view of nature. Not to mention, he’s not ever been on a vacation where he can sit completely naked on the balcony without fear of someone being able to see him. Especially not with his gorgeous mostly-naked girlfriend sitting in his lap.

She leans forward and sits the coffee mug on the ground beside their feet. “Maybe we can come back here. In the future.”

Haechan smiles, an undeniable smile. He loves when she talks like this. Any time that she talks about the future and includes him within that.

“We can do that,” he promises. “For vacations in the future.”

Again, she leans back against him, her head tipped back on his shoulder. She sighs, “What are we doing today? Was today the day that they wanted to go parasailing? And didn’t you say that you’ve got some plans too for this trip?”

“Mm,” Haechan agrees. “I do have plans. Very different from the ones our friends have been making.”

He wonders if she can feel the way that his heart has begun to race.

“Can you tell me your plans?” She starts to sit up and twist around to face him, but Haechan just wraps his arms snug around her hips, pulling her back so her ass rests right above his dick. She laughs, “What are you doing?”

“You want to know my plans?” Haechan asks. “These are my plans. Just you and me, fucking like bunnies in a tropical location. Last time we went on a trip like this I was still stupid and blind, and I didn’t really get to appreciate you as much as I should have. This time, I don’t want to make the same mistake. I want to enjoy my time with you, angel.”

She makes a satisfied sound. “Last time… meaning when you watched all of our friends fuck around the entire trip?”

Haechan nods, tucking his head so he can start kissing her neck. 

“What about the rules? You were so worried about them yesterday.” Her voice is beginning to wane as Haechan softly kisses her neck, as one of his hands slips down to stroke along the band of her panties. 

Haechan grunts a small sound of denial. “Not worried anymore.”

Haechan knows that he’s beyond lucky to have her. For numerous, endless reasons, but one of the most important reasons is that she is just as insatiable as he is. Despite her having had, like, several orgasms within the last approximately twelve hours, when Haechan’s fingers dive beneath her panties, she whimpers like she needs it.

She squirms in his lap, against his swelling erection, panting and whining while Haechan kisses her throat and draws light circles on her clit with his fingers. His other hand, he lifts to her chest, palming at her tits.

This doesn’t really feel like it’s breaking any of the rules. They’re not really in a public space right now since no one can see them on this balcony. There’s no one to accidentally spot them as she gets his cock trapped between his belly and her ass, as she grinds on him until Haechan is cumming, his cum streaking down her ass as she keeps moving, as he strokes her clit with his fingers until she cums too, her pussy so wet and warm against his dick that Haechan almost pins her against the balcony’s edge to feel her around him.

But he doesn’t. 

They move on. She showers away the feel of last night while Haechan just quickly wipes himself down. They dress and head back to the main house for breakfast provided by Xiaojun and Jaemin. 

Everyone goes sightseeing that day. Most of them are recovering from last night’s hangovers, but plenty of water, electrolytes, and some really decent sunglasses help for the most part. Dinner that night is an extravagant affair put on by Xiaojun, Jaemin, Haechan, Mark’s girlfriend, and featuring bartending by YangYang.

Quickly, Haechan realizes that when his friends made the list of silly rules, they meant for it to apply just to Haechan and his girlfriend. None of them are following their own rules, and of course, most of them have had direct experiences with Haechan’s voyeurism and/or his girlfriend’s exhibitionist tastes, so that’s why they’d laid down those rules.

But on the third night while he’s lounging in the pool while his girlfriend is over drinking by the firepit with Renjun, Jaehyun, and Mark, Haechan looks up at the main house, and catches a glimpse through the windows of the second floor of Xiaojun and his girlfriend fucking against the window. She’s blindfolded with Xiaojun’s hand possibly around her throat while he takes her from behind, her tits are pressed to the window.

It says a great deal about how being in this relationship has changed Haechan that, instead of staying and watching them, he turns away from the window. He plunges through the water until he reaches the edge of the pool closest to the fire pit, and he pulls himself out of the water.

He doesn’t want to watch Xiaojun and his girlfriend. He doesn’t care to watch them. Instead, his mind has immediately taken the scenario and flipped it around in his imagination so he’s the one up there, fucking his own girlfriend against the window, whispering in her ear that their friends are down in the pool and can see her being a perfect whore for him.

And the next morning, bright and early, Haechan and her leave their bedroom to go take a walk around the neighborhood of the villa. It’s a nice, quiet walk. They hold hands and enjoy the sunrise, and Haechan tells her about his self-discovery from the night before; how he’s not so sure that he’s into voyeurism anymore, how he feels that being in this relationship with her has reformed him from his perverted ways.

“Well, most of them,” he laughs, “I think I just adapted my form of perversion into yours. I still want to fuck you in public places. I want you all to myself, but I don’t think I care if people can see.”

That makes her laugh too. “I think we must’ve rubbed off on each other, then, because honestly, I still very much am into exhibitionism, but I also want to watch other people. Specifically, on this trip. Like, I thought for sure everyone would be breaking the rules. You’ve seen almost all of our friends on this trip having sex, and I feel like I’m at a disadvantage.”

Haechan has shown her before all of the videos he had in his phone – the one of Jeno and Jaemin, the stolen clips from Renjun’s phone – but she wants some of her own memories of watching. He can understand that.

As luck would have it, it’s still early when they return to the villa. The main house is silent, the pool is empty, but when they reach their building, when they step through the front door, the first thing they’re greeted with is the sight of the ground floor bedroom’s door wide open. Renjun’s bare back, pale in the light coming through the windows, stands out in contrast to the dark headboard of the bed. He’s riding Jaehyun, breathy moans pouring from both of them, not even trying to be quiet, which either means they were hoping to be caught, or they really thought that Haechan and his girlfriend were going to be gone for longer.

She’s giddy about finally catching someone, and she lingers in the doorway, watching their two friends in a way that brings to life a tendril of lust in his belly. She’s a pervert.

Haechan sits on the stairs, watching her peer around the doorway, her lips parted as eyes follow Renjun riding his boyfriend. He looks at her and he sees two images of her overlaid. He sees the angelic perception he had of her for so long, and he sees her the way he sees her now. Two very different perceptions, but exactly the same woman.

She giggles about it for a while once he takes her hand and drags her upstairs to their bedroom. Even through the floor, they can hear some of the boyfriends downstairs moaning.

“What’s so funny?” Haechan asks.

“I never got to see them together,” she explains, still smiling, “Jaehyun saw or heard every time that Renjun and I were together except the very first time during the movie. You showed me those videos you stole, but that’s not the same. It’s only fair that I got to watch them. Also, Jaehyun is a damn hypocrite. He used to make fun of me when I didn’t want to put in the work, but he was just letting Renjun do all the work down there.”

Haechan nods. “Did you like it, though? Did you like watching, angel?”

She shrugs. “I’m not going to go out of my way to look for it, but, yeah, if they’re gonna have sex right there in plain view, I’ll watch.” 

It must be something in the air, or perhaps it's the aphrodisiacal wine and foods that they’ve been eating, or maybe they all just snap and are filled with a flood of horniness, but that day everyone seems to be in a mood. It’s not like there’s a massive orgy or anything like that, although Haechan probably wouldn’t mind too much if that broke out right in front of him, but after spotting Xiaojun and his girlfriend the previous night, after witnessing Renjun and Jaehyun that morning, Haechan sees Mark getting a little too handsy while he helps his girlfriend apply sunscreen before they all head out for the day. 

They all go paddleboarding together. And Haechan’s girlfriend points out to him the way that YangYang and his girl are canoodling on the paddleboard that they’re sharing. YangYang is pressed up against her back, his arms around her as he helps her paddle, both of them whispering and laughing, and Haechan sees YangYang’s hands begin to wander. Haechan makes sure to show his girlfriend when he notices the way that YangYang’s board begins to lag behind where everyone else is paddling, when his girl is suddenly on her hands and knees.

“Look,” Haechan murmurs to his girlfriend. “There’s another fun little glimpse for you. So much for not having sex in public spaces. Wasn’t it him that came up with that rule?”

But YangYang is definitely fucking his girl doggy style on the paddle board. 

And maybe a little while later, when all of their friends are distracted, Haechan does the same with his girlfriend, fucking her from behind, her pretty ass bouncing with each thrust, the paddleboard wobbling so unsteadily. He knows that someone has to have spotted them, but for once no one calls them out, nor does anyone say anything when Haechan holds his girlfriend on his lap later as they’re driving back to the villa.

No one says anything as they all spend the rest of that day in the pool at their villa, sunbathing and playing around, Haechan unable to keep his hands off of her. To be fair, most of the couples can’t keep their hands to themselves, but when some of their friends are disappearing inside or curling up on the lounge chairs beneath umbrellas, Haechan and his girlfriend are stretched out on the sofa on the covered patio.

He’s been tickling her, her giggles echoing out from the patio, his fingers tugging at strings tying her bikini in place, his lips tracing her tanlines, tasting the saltwater from the sea earlier.

Right now, they’re not even trying to hide it. 

Her bikini falls away, leaving her bare but for the dappled sunlight that stripes over her skin through the latticed ceiling above them. 

“What if they see?” She asks, but she makes no attempt to cover herself up. She actually stretches her arms above her head, exposing herself a little bit more. 

“When has that ever stopped you before?” Haechan replies. “What happened to the girl that let some stranger eat her out in a library? The one that fucked Renjun in her car on campus, who fingered herself in the office?”

She lifts her chin, a daring gleam in her eyes. “She’s still right here. But she’s also aware of her boyfriend’s jealousies, his dislike of actually sharing her with anyone else.”

“They can look,” he says with a shrug, “But they can’t touch.”

He slides a hand from her hip to her chest, all along the curve of her body. She makes a soft, pleased sound. 

“And besides, angel,” Haechan says, “Anyone who sees us together knows that you’re mine. All mine. So let them watch me lay claim to you, let them see the way that you call yourself mine.”

Haechan sinks down, brushing his lips over her throat, down her sternum to her heart. He kisses her there, letting the heat of his mouth linger while his hands slip down to her thighs, pulling them up around his waist. 

“You’re so cocky, Haechan,” she accuses, “You make it sound like your dick is so good that I just beg you for more and more, that I can’t get enough.”

Haechan snorts, laughing even as he presses against her. “But you do, don’t you, baby? You can’t get enough of me, just as I can’t get enough of you. I don’t care who sees us, just as long as they can see how much we mean to each other.”

She lifts her arms from above her head up to drape them around his shoulders. “Are you gonna talk romance to me when we’re about to have sex out here? Gonna wax poetic about how much you love me, Hyuck? You should be begging me again to cum inside me, to mark me up. You should call me names. But don’t get sweet and soft when we’re having sex in public.” 

“I’ll do what I want, pretty whore. I’ll give you something so everyone knows you’re mine,” Haechan growls, and with that, he thrusts himself into her. 

He doesn’t take it easy. Doesn’t go soft or slow on her. 

Haechan takes what he wants, and she keeps moaning, a low chant of “yes yes yes” as her tots bounce with each of Haechan’s deep thrusts, her hands grasping above her head again for anything to grab onto. She bites her bottom lip, trying to at least keep her volume a little low so it doesn’t carry across the pool to where Renjun and Jaehyun are curled together on a large square lounger. 

He reaches for her chin, his thumb dragging beneath her bottom lip. “What are you being so quiet for, huh? Don’t you want all of them to know what we’re doing? Let them know who’s making you feel good, baby?” 

She does moan a little louder, her mouth falls open, and just the sound of her raised moans, her hisses of, “Fuck, harder, baby,” and “God, more! More, Haechan, more, more!” drives Haechan on. 

Each snap forward of his hips makes her tits jiggle, brings another guttural sound of pleasure from her pretty lips. 

“Ah, yes!” She whimpers when Haechan slides his hands down under her ass, lifting her and switching up the angle just enough that he’s hitting that spot inside her now with each thrust, and it’s only a moment later that she’s cumming around him. Haechan brings one of his hands around to her clit, the other up to her throat just to close his hand around it briefly, lightly. 

She writhes with ecstasy, her body arching, still working her hips to get the most out of his cock and the contact with his fingers.

Haechan doesn’t let up. He’s still fucking into his gorgeous girlfriend, still stimulating her clit, though he does remove his hand from her throat as soon as she taps at his arm. Then he moves to her tits, beautiful and perfect in the sunlight. 

She grows tighter around him when he pinches one of her nipples, and he swears he feels a gush of wetness when he tugs on the same nipple. She’s so reactive to him, grinding herself on his cock with a loud moan that Haechan is certain must carry across the pool, and she arches into the hand on her chest, her hands grip tight to a throw pillow over her head. 

He folds himself over her, his lips closing over her unattended nipple, flicking his tongue over the sensitive peak. She shudders again beneath him, waves of pleasure tearing through her as her pussy pulses around his cock. 

Haechan pulls out of her, pulling completely away more suddenly than he’s sure either of them would really like. 

She’s lying there, panting, damp with sweat and his saliva on her one breast. Her nipples both look swollen from his stimulation. She sits up, reaching for him, not done with him yet. And he’s nowhere near done with her either. 

“Up, baby,” Haechan commands, grabbing one of her hands and pulling. 

She stands up quickly on legs that shake a little, and Haechan quickly fills her place, his back on this outdoor sofa. 

Haechan watches her for a moment, watches how she glances around the pool area now that she’s standing. He notices the way that her gaze pauses in a few spots, landing on their friends. Haechan looks too, and all he can see from here is Renjun and Jaehyun still apparently napping. 

He tugs at her hand. “Come on. Come sit on me, baby. Need you to ride me.”

She straddles him, leaning down over him and bracing one hand on his chest as she sinks down on his cock tantalizingly slow. Haechan has to fight the urge to just thrust up into her invitingly warm and wet entrance as she just hovers above him. 

She smirks down at him, her fingernails dragging lightly over his chest. “My turn to be in charge?” She teases, “You gonna submit to me now, baby?”

Haechan snorts. Rarely in their relationship has he given her the reins, let her take control, but if that’s what she wants right now, sure. She can play at being in charge for now. 

He nods. 

“Good boy,” she hums. And then she finally drops her hips, and Haechan lets out an involuntary moan as her tight pussy swallows his length up. Her hand on his chest drifts over to one side, thumbing over his nipple in a way that sends a jolt down to his cock. 

She looks so pleased with herself there on top of him as she settles down with his cock buried all the way inside her. She looks so satisfied as she can take it how she wants it, teasingly slow as she lifts herself up and then back down, as she grinds down on him, as she plays with her clit in the same slow circles as she draws around one of Haechan’s nipples. 

She rides him like that, and Haechan is just in awe of her. 

She cums again like that, squirting a bit on his belly, making quite a mess, honestly, but Haechan likes it.

He slides his fingers through the wet mess, and he presses his fingers through his own lips, sucking the taste of her off. 

She digs her nails into his chest again, and she slumps over him. “Fuck, I’m tired.”

“Not yet, baby,” he pulls his fingers out of his mouth to reach around and pat her ass. “I’m not finished yet. Why don’t you turn around? I want to watch you, and why don’t you watch our friends, see if any of them are looking.”

Because surely some of them have noticed. They’ve been making enough noise that Haechan would be shocked if no one had noticed.

“Can you keep going, baby?” He asks. Because if she’s too tired to be on top, too tired to keep going, he’ll figure it out.

“I got this, thanks,” she says with a smile, patting Haechan on the chest. 

She climbs off of him, standing there bare in the dazzling sunlight for a moment as she turns around, and then she sits over Haechan him again, her back to him. 

She laughs, and that is an unexpected sound in the moment as she’s sinking down on his cock, but she turns her head to take a peek at him over her shoulder, and she says, “Jaehyun and Renjun are looking.”

“Keep going. Let them watch, if that’s what you want, angel.” But it’s what Haechan wants too, so when she starts moving, Haechan is glad. The thought of being watched is working for him, a lot more of a turn on than Haechan had thought it really would be. To know that they’re being watched, that other people (who he knows hold no foul intentions towards them) can see her feeling so good while she rides him.

It only makes matters worse (or better, depending on the angle), that she’s keeping up a narration while she fucks herself on Haechan’s cock, telling him all about what she sees across the pool.

She tells him about how Jaehyun is curled around Renjun from behind, both of them are watching her, and Jaehyun is whispering to Renjun. Renjun’s tiny shorts are riding up and exposing his thighs, Jaehyun has his hand down the front of them. She keeps going, and the combination of voyeurism and exhibitionism is too much for him.

He drags her off his cock, drags her back up his torso until she’s hovering above his face and he presses at her thighs and hips to get her to sit down. This is something he’s been thinking about since the first time she did it – when she rode his face on the sofa in his apartment with YangYang – and he’s been wanting to have it happen again. This seems like the perfect moment, and she seems to agree, judging by the sounds she starts making as soon as Haechan dives in hungrily. 

She doesn’t forget about him. She reaches down and jerks Haechan off with both hands. That, combined with the awareness they’re being watched and the exhilaration of her sitting on his face, carry Haechan at last over the edge, and he cums across his belly.

Haechan just lies there, and she does all the rest, riding his face like he’s just a toy for her to hump. She lowers herself over him, and Haechan nearly nuts again as he feels her licking across his belly, licking at the tip of his cock, cleaning his cum off of his skin. He gets back into it, eating her out until she’s trembling on top of him, cumming again, and this time she pulls away, rolling off of him.

“Now, I’m done,” she pants, leaning in to kiss Haechan once. He wants to hold her there, to kiss her until her lips are glossy too with her wetness like he knows his are. But he lets her withdraw. He watches as she reaches for an abandoned towel on a nearby cushion, and she wraps it around herself.

When he sits up a second later, Haechan looks across the pool, over to the square lounger where Jaehyun and Renjun are. 

But it’s empty.

Haechan frowns, and beside him, his girlfriend laughs. “They weren’t really watching. I made it up. Actually, as far as I can see, none of them are out here anymore.”

“Think we scared them off?” Haechan reaches down for his swim trunks, pulling them back up. 

“Mm, maybe.” She picks up her bikini, wadding the small pieces of fabric up in her hands. “I’m going to shower. You can come too, but just know that there’s not going to be any funny business. I need a good snack and a nap now.”

Haechan doesn’t really feel like moving. This could be just as good of a nap spot right here in the warm sunlight.

“Come on!” She reaches down, tugging at one of his hands. “If you don’t come take a nap with me, what am I gonna do? I’m gonna have to get in your bag and steal one of your shirts. You know I sleep best when I’m with you.”

That gets him moving, trailing along behind her. “No need to go digging for one of my shirts. I’m right here. Perfectly good for napping with.”

Truly, Haechan wonders, how did he get to be so lucky? 

The next night, they’re all seated on the outdoor sofa or in lounge chairs that they’ve drawn up around the firepit. There’s beer and some traditional Indonesian alcohol that some of the guys bought when they were in town earlier. They have three more nights and two full days left in their trip, and Haechan can feel the clock counting down.

Someone brought up in conversation their friends that didn’t come along on this trip – the younger ones, some of which are still in school; Chenle, who is just too busy running his shop to take a week off; and Shotaro and his girlfriend, who are pretty much living together in Japan, and never want to make the trip to come see all of their old friends.

“Oh, shit, that reminds me,” YangYang says then, “Did you see what they posted yesterday on Instagram? Shotaro finally proposed!”

Tucked into his side, Haechan’s girlfriend laughs.

“What?” He looks down at her. 

She shakes her head as if she’s not going to speak, but then she says, “Remember when you had a crush on her? When you threw your tantrum on our first big camping trip as a group?”

Haechan feels his face grow a bit warm as the others all turn to look at them upon hearing her words. “It wasn’t a crush.”

“But it was a tantrum,” Renjun says. 

Haechan draws his arm around her shoulders a little tighter. “I got over it quickly, though. There were no hard feelings after that night. I’m happy for them. Our innocent Shotaro needed someone to show him the ropes of romance, and she was always protective of him.”

“And much like someone else, it took her a long time to realize her feelings for him,” comes the quiet comment from Haechan’s side again. He looks down at his girlfriend. She smiles.

“YangYang, let me see the post!” Mark’s girlfriend demands, clambering over Mark’s lap to reach for YangYang’s phone. “I wanna see the ring!” 

Xiaojun shifts in his seat, glancing at his girlfriend before he looks back around the firepit at all of them. “He’s the first one of us to take that step. When do you think they’re going to get married?”

“Who do you think is gonna be next?” Jeno asks, sweeping a look around at each of the couples gathered here on this trip. “Jaem and I have been together the longest, but…”

“I’m not marrying you,” Jaemin groans from across the fire. “We don’t need to go through all that trouble. And even if we do get married, none of you are invited. Just us two, a quiet little ceremony, and then we’re gonna fuck off on a month-long honeymoon.” 

“If not us, then who?” Jeno asks, still gazing over at Jaemin. The way that they look at each other from across the fire is nauseatingly cute. 

Haechan thinks he might puke.

“After us, you two have been together the longest, right?” Jeno asks Mark and his girlfriend.

“Actually,” Renjun clears his throat, “It’s us.”

Jaehyun doesn’t say a word, just watching Renjun as he says, “It’s been complicated, but we’ve been together since, what, my third year of university? When I started the internship.” 

Jaehyun nods silently, then says, “But we couldn’t make it official in case the company found out. You’d have been let go from the internship, I’d have been at risk of firing or demotion. It was definitely… complicated.” His eyes flick over in Haechan and his girlfriend’s direction, and Haechan again draws his arm a little tighter around his girlfriend.

“But we’re waiting to get engaged, anyway,” Renjun says definitively. “Jaehyun is taking me on a trip to Santorini next year that he promised me years ago, and if he doesn’t propose on that trip, I’m breaking up with him.”

Jaehyun wrinkles his nose, looping his arm around Renjun’s chest, and he drags him to lie back against him. “Damn, I was hoping you were going to be the one proposing. I remember you being the one promising me a trip to Greece.”

The conversations all around them turn to the length of their relationships, dream proposals, talks of Shotaro’s future wedding. Conversations drift and twist away, winding down different paths of topic, but Haechan isn’t paying any attention to that. He’s still stuck on thoughts of his own future. 

He’s so deep in thought, that he doesn’t realize everyone else has left the fire until his girlfriend pokes his cheek with her finger. “Donghyuck?”

“Hmm?” He feels like he’s coming out of a daze. He blinks against the glow of the fire still burning in the firepit, and he looks down at her.

Her eyes are big, starry as the night around them when she says, “Do you remember a few months back? You saw a suit in a shop window and asked me about, like, the future? Marriage, kids, a family?”

She’d been quiet all through the discussion of proposals, and now Haechan finds his stomach tying itself in nervous knots. 

“I don’t think…” She pauses, and again, Haechan’s heart is thundering in his chest.

What if she tells him that she doesn’t actually want any of that? Haechan wants all of that so much that he can’t imagine his future without a marriage, kids, a family. 

She leans in, resting her head on his chest. “I don’t think I was very clear back then about what I want. Mostly because, you know, you’re never really sure of what you want until it’s right there in front of you. Which, I’m sure you definitely get that, like, it took you forever to realize that I was right here, in love with you. But, um, you were asking your questions very hypothetically back then, and I’ve done a lot of thinking since then about what I want.”

Haechan doesn’t like this type of conversation. It has a lump in his throat, a weight in his chest that has nothing to do with her head leaning on him. It has everything to do with the look he’d seen in her eyes on that day months ago. That had been before everything. Before she met his family, before their fight, before he realized that being apart from her left him feeling hollow. He’d seen the look in her eyes that day when he was standing there talking about wanting to get married and wanting to be a dad, and all he’d seen when he looked into her eyes was fear and uncertainty. 

She’d answered his questions that day in a way that left him feeling like he stood on unstable ground, like everything might just crumble away. He’d told her, in an effort to erase that scared look in her eyes, to reassure her, that he was just putting the thought out there, trying to gauge her reaction.

But then there was the morning after their fight, when he went to apologize and mimed a proposal when he sank to one knee. She’d looked panicked then.

What if she genuinely didn’t want a wedding?

“Haechan?”

Her voice sounds a long way off, and it’s not until she places one hand on his chest, the other lightly brushing his cheek, that Haechan realizes he’s holding his breath.

“Donghyuck, relax.” She strokes his cheek tenderly. “Relax, I’m trying to tell you that I do want that. Relax, okay?” She laughs at the way that Haechan lets out a relieved breath. 

And he does feel relieved. That odd weight in his chest, the sick feeling in his belly, and the knot in his throat all fade away. 

“You want me to ask you to marry me?” He closes his eyes. “Because I’ve really been hoping since that day that I was just imagining the way you seemed reluctant.”

“No,” she draws her thumb along his bottom lip. “I was never reluctant about wanting to be with you. Honestly, I think about marrying you all the time. Even in ridiculous moments, I’ll look at you and think ‘This guy. This is the one.’ I’ve always wanted you. That was never the question.”

The happiness sweeping through Haechan dampens slightly as he realizes what she isn’t saying. While she wasn’t reluctant that day about Haechan’s thoughts on marriage, there was something she’d been hesitant about. 

Kids. Children. Babies.

One of the big things that Haechan wants in life: to be a parent.

“You don’t want kids.” Haechan says it, not as a question but as a statement.

She looks at him straight on. “I didn’t say that.”

“But you don’t, do you?” Haechan can hear his voice shake, and he hopes that she doesn’t notice.

She closes her eyes. “I know that it’s important to you. You like kids. You want to be a dad, to raise a kid in a loving household with a whole family, full of love.”

“You don’t?” Haechan can feel that lump, that nausea, that heavy weight in his chest again. 

Her eyes flash open. “I want you, Lee Donghyuck. Always. Everything else can wait.” She moves her hands from his face and chest, reaching for his hands to wrap them tightly, pressing his hands between her palms. 

Haechan shakes his head. “It can’t wait, though. I’m not saying it’s a deal breaker if you don’t want kids, because it’s not. I love you, and I –” He has to take a moment to compose himself, to take a deep breath and search for the right words before he starts again, saying, “I just think that what I want and what you want might not align on this particular thing. So, if kids aren’t something that you want, if you don’t want to be a parent, it would be better for me to know that now than in five, ten years when I’m still holding onto the hope of something that you’ve let go of a long time ago.”

He loves her. 

He wants to marry her.

If she doesn’t want kids, that’s not going to change the fact that he wants forever with her. He’s not going to force that on her. But he would like to know now so he can stop imagining sweet little babies with his chubby cheeks and her eyes.

“I don’t know!” Her voice breaks on a quiet cry. “I don’t know what I want, Haechan.”

And there are tears glistening in her eyelashes, capturing the firelight within the tiny globes. She squeezes his hands, and Haechan squeezes back.

“Talk to me,” he says, “Just talk to me.”

So she does.

He doesn’t know where it all comes from, but she presses her face to his chest, and she just starts talking. She talks and he listens, and it goes on for a while, maybe hours, but still he listens while the love of his life tells him her reasons for her uncertainty, while she tells him that it’s not the idea of being a parent that she finds offputting, but the idea of motherhood in the traditional sense – the sense of sharing your body with another life, which is both magical and terrifying to her; the complications and horrors she’s heard about pregnancy and birth; the way that sometimes it doesn’t feel right to her to bring a new life into this world when there is already so much fucked up shit happening in the world, so many children without families, families that can’t afford to take care of their children.

Haechan listens to it all, and he takes it all in. 

And he gets it.

He gets it as much as he feels like any man that hasn’t had to experience the traumas of being born a woman might understand the situation. He’s never had to think about things from the perspective that she presented him tonight. The Othering of her body through pregnancy and childbirth, the changes that she would have to deal with mentally and physically, all of the things that maybe wouldn’t directly affect him if she were to have children with him, but they might affect her for years or the rest of her life.

He gets it.

Haechan holds her as the fire dies, as her tears dry on his shirt, as the night grows deeper around them. 

The clock is counting down to the end of their trip. Another day and another night have passed, and Haechan doesn’t want to go home. He doesn’t want this to end. He wants to spend forever in paradise. 

Because that is what this is. Paradise. 

It’s perfect here, just like he knew it would be.

Tonight, he just can’t sleep.

He lies awake in bed beside his girlfriend, tossing and turning while she sleeps peacefully. And he watches a clock on the bedside table count down the moments until the break of dawn. And when he can’t take it any longer he reaches over and shakes her shoulder.

“Hm?” She turns her head towards him, but he knows she’s not really awake, so he whispers her name, gently touching her shoulder again. This time her eyes flutter open, and she mumbles, “What?”

“Wake up.” Haechan keeps his voice soft. 

“No,” she whines, trying to hide her face back in her pillow. 

“Come on,” Haechan wheedles, “Just wake up for me, baby.”

Again, she whines, then asks, “What? Why?”

“I can’t sleep,” Haechan admits truthfully. “Why don’t we steal the rental car, drive to the beach, and catch the sunrise over the ocean?”

She sighs, and he can tell that she’s actually awake now. “Or we could just stay in bed and sleep until a decent hour.”

“You’re the one that told me you want to take a romantic trip with me,” Haechan says, “And when I try to be romantic, you just want to stay in bed.” She sighs into the pillow again, but it sounds like a more agreeable sigh than the first one, so Haechan tells her, “If we leave now, we can make it in time.”

“Fine.” She pushes herself up. “But it better be the best sunrise ever to make it worth getting up this early.”

Haechan agrees.

She disappears to the bathroom, and Haechan gets ready quickly, getting dressed and makes sure that he’s got everything he needs in his crossbody bag he’s been bringing almost everywhere with him on this trip – sunglasses, a mask, sunscreen, hand sanitizer, chapstick, extra hair ties for her. He stole the keys to the rental car from YangYang last night, and those are tucked safely in the bag too.

“Ready?” He asks, when she emerges from the bathroom.

She insists on changing out of her pajamas, so Haechan patiently waits on the edge of the bed, watching her put on a bikini (“If we’re going to the beach anyway, we might as well get in the water, right?”) and a hoodie (“I just feel like there might be a little bit of a chill, especially by the water.”) and a pair of leggings. He watches as she starts braiding her hair into two tight french braids, and his patience is growing thinner. 

Already, he swears that the sky is getting lighter outside.

Finally, she’s ready, and Haechan takes her hand and walks quickly out of their bedroom.

They’re halfway down the stairs when a shadow emerges from the bedroom on the ground floor. Renjun.

“Oh, what are you two doing up?” Renjun asks in a whisper, glancing back over his shoulder into his bedroom.

“Haechan wants to go watch the sunrise,” his girlfriend answers as she steps around Haechan where he’s stopped on the steps. “He woke me up because he couldn’t sleep.”

Renjun looks up at Haechan. “I can’t sleep either. Mind if I come too?”

Haechan would usually say no, that he wants this to just be him and his girlfriend for the romantic experience that he sold it to her as. But Haechan says yes.

The three of them sneak quietly into the main house, steal a few snacks and drinks for breakfast on-the-go, and then they’re out the front door, into the rental car, and driving away.

Renjun babbles in the backseat, and Haechan lets Renjun fill the silence. His girlfriend dozes off in the passenger seat with Haechan holding her hand as he navigates the dark roads to the beach half an hour away. Eventually, Haechan tunes Renjun out, and all he’s aware of is the feel of the steering wheel in his hand, his girlfriend’s hand in the other, and the sky growing lighter by gradual degrees.

They reach the beach half an hour later, and the sky is still a deep blue with just a slight edge of lighter color on the horizon. They haven’t missed it.

Together, the three of them take a brief hike from the lot where they leave the car, down through dirt paths. The sounds of insects and small creatures waking surround them, not to mention the rush of the ocean so nearby, the sound of which makes Haechan want to walk faster, but his girlfriend and Renjun are both treating this as a leisurely stroll through nature.

After about an eternal five minute long walk, the path opens up around them, and Haechan’s sandals fill with sand, a sea breeze and a large wave crashing against the shore spray them all with a fine mist of salt. 

Perfect.

The sky is just fading from deep blue to a burnt orange with a thin line of gold right above the distant dark horizon. 

“Damn, this is romantic,” Renjun says as they all walk a little closer to the edge of the sea. “Act like I’m not even here.”

Haechan is all too happy to let that happen. 

Beside him, she clings onto his hand, clutching at his arm and tucking herself in close to him. Her cheek rests against his shoulder, and Haechan is reminded very suddenly of the night he realized he was in love with her. A cool night before they ever started dating, as he walked her to the bus stop, as she clung to his arm, and he fell in love. 

Clouds drift slowly in the sky, and as the sun rises closer to the horizon, the colors begin to change, the deep orange and golden yellow turn red and pink, purple and sweet orange like the inside of a nectarine. The clouds are lined in gold and pearly pink. And the sea reflects those colors, cut through with the likes of the waves, the frothy crescents of gold as the top curve of the sun finally breaks above the sea. 

“This is worth it,” she whispers against Haechan’s shoulder. “Definitely worth waking up early for.”

He smiles and presses a kiss to the top of her head. 

And then finally there is the sun, spiking molten gold through the sky, rays arcing between the clouds, mixing the colors into brighter and better shades. It’s only a matter of minutes before the beauty of the sunrise will fade into just a pretty blue morning. 

Haechan’s heart catches in his throat. 

Behind them, Renjun speaks, and really for a few moments, Haechan had forgotten their best friend was there too. Renjun says, “This is insanely pretty. I should take a picture.”

“Oh,” she says softly beside him, and he feels her untangling herself from his arm, drawing away. “I want a picture too.”

She steps away, pulling her phone from her hoodie pocket, aiming it out at the sea, and Haechan watches the light of the sunrise on her face — all pinks and golds and oranges. 

Haechan reaches into his crossbody bag, and he glances back at Renjun, his phone aimed towards the sea and the glamorous sunrise. 

And Haechan does something he’s been thinking about for a long time. 

He says his girlfriend’s name as he feels his heart pounding like it’s about to race right out of his chest and into the sea, like it’s on fire and needs the sea to put it out, as Haechan sinks down on one knee and pulls out the tiny ring box he’d stowed in the bag earlier that morning while she was in the bathroom, the one he’s been hiding in his suitcase all week, the one that he bought the day after they moved in together, first thing the next morning after he asked her dad for his blessing in the living room of their new apartment while she was in the next room. 

Haechan sinks into the sand on one knee, and he holds up the ring box, the ring inside of it glimmering in  the sunrise as his perfect, beautiful, angel of a girlfriend turns at the sound of her name. 

For a moment, she looks confused, and then it registers. 

His pose. The ring. The look in his eyes and the hopeful smile on his face. 

And Haechan speaks, though he has to force the words out around his heart in his throat. 

“I used to think that loving someone as much as I love you was impossible. But every day I love you more than the day before. I love you, and I want to spend forever loving you, my angel. Will you marry me?”

Haechan expects an answer. Either a yes or a no. It’s not too much to expect right? A verbal confirmation or denial to the marriage he’s just proposed to his girlfriend, the love of his life.

Slowly, her hands come up to cover her mouth, the sunrise haloes her with gold, and she looks more like an angel now than ever before, and Haechan thinks he might pass out if she keeps him waiting any longer.

He opens his mouth, saying just, “If you d—”

It’s lucky the ground is such soft sand because she tackles him into it, and it’s just pure luck that Haechan’s fingers close on the box, snapping the lid of it shut so when it slips out of his hand, he doesn’t lose the ring in the sand. Not that he’s truly thinking about that in the moment. He’s far too preoccupied with the armful of his girlfriend as she kisses him, as she murmurs “yes yes yes” between kisses, her hands in his hair, grains of salt and sand and strands of hair between their lips, and Haechan doesn’t care about anything else more than the heat of her against him, and her promises of “yes, I’ll marry you” repeated again and again. 

Eventually, after a long, long time, they remember Renjun. 

He’s not standing anywhere near them, but has drifted down along the beach, minding his own business and ignoring the happy, entangled couple in the sand. The sun has risen high enough now that it’s fully cleared the horizon, and the magic of the sunrise feels like it’s settled into their bones instead. 

Haechan doesn’t want to let go of her, doesn’t want to get up. 

He feels light and good. Gone is the anxious weight he’s kept buried all week, the one that resurfaced the other night when their friends mentioned engagements while he had an engagement ring hidden in his bedroom fifty feet away, the feeling that had been plaguing him all night, the countdown towards this moment right here. 

It wasn’t an impromptu sunrise beach trip. He’d planned it ahead with Renjun, the only one of their friends on this trip he’d entrusted with this. That’s why Renjun had set an alarm to be awake early, to come along with them, to act as a photographer or videographer to this moment. 

God, he’s so grateful he did it. Even more grateful that she said yes. 

“You know, the other night, I panicked a bit when I thought you were going to tell me you didn’t ever want to get married.” Haechan admits when they sit up, though he’s still holding her in his lap. “I was panicking about what to do with the ring if you didn’t want it.”

She places a hand on his cheek and draws him in for another kiss. A brief one because she then pauses, frozen as she asks, “Where is the ring?”

Haechan searches the sand around them, and quickly, he locates the smooth shine of it among the sand as Renjun drifts back towards them. 

“So you’re saying yes, right?” Haechan checks with her as he frees the ring from its soft little cushion. “You’ll marry me?”

“Yes,” she repeats, and he can hear emotion bubbling in her voice. A glimmer in her eye shows that tears may be building as well. “Yes, I’m saying yes, I’ll marry you.”

Haechan kisses her as he slides the ring onto her finger. 

“I love you,” he promises her, “Always. I’ll be always yours.”

THE END.

previous chapter || Completed YIMA index

a/n: The end!! This has been a long, long work in progress, and the fact that it's finally over is gonna be hard on all of us, I'm sure. I've had a lot of fun with writing this fic, even if there were some scenes that I had initially planned on that never made it into the final cut. This fic has truly been a Haechan love story, about a boy falling in love with the girl that's been there in front of him this whole time. I've been thinking of this fic all along, since the pretty early stages of it, as "She fell first, but he fell harder," because once Haechan realizes his feelings, it's over for him; she's it for him, and he knows that very early on in their relationship. But he's had plans for a long time regarding his future with her, and he has almost always been in her dream plans for her future. So they get a happy ending! A happily ever after!!

Like I already said, I had a lot of fun writing this, posting this, and hearing from all of you wonderful readers! Thank you so much for reading and coming along on this slowburn of a journey with me, Haechan, and Y/N!

[psycholuvrgirl]

sweets! part I

ethan landry x bimbo!oc [winnie adair]

summary: the blackmore students go to a costume party and ghostface comes back.

warnings: nsfw implications, mentions of murder

a/n: chapter one finally <3 i hope you all enjoy!

masterlist

“Hey, Ethan!”

The boy looks around the room, eyes landing on the smaller girl. Her short dress clings to her body and she has a little garter around her left thigh. It has a small heart on it and the band squeezes the fatty limb so it could fit. She’s covered in red -- her dress, the garter, her lips, and cheeks.

“Ethan!” she calls again. He blinks a little, snapping out of his little trance and smiling at her. She giggles, pushing through a few people to make her way next to him. Her bangles clap together as she bouncily walks over, and he wonders how those giant hoops are even comfortable weighing down her ears. “Do you like?” she asks, finally in front of him. She does a little twirl for him, Ethan’s eyes snapping down to the bottom of the dress for the split second her back is turned to him.

“Very nice,” he says, nodding in approval. She giggles and looks at his costume, furrowing her brows a little at it. She looks up at him, confusion written plainly across her expression. 

“I think I’m pretty obviously Betty Boop, but what the hell are you?” she asks, “A knight?”

“No-- Kind of. It’s the Brown Knight,” he explains. The girl scrunches her face, both unimpressed and still confused. “Chris Hawley? Murder Party?” 

She shakes her head and giggles, “I have no clue what you’re talking about, dork.”

He smiles a little at the nickname. Usually he would feel a little hurt by the jab, but she says it so endearingly that heat rises to his cheeks immediately. Her name is called by some girl in the distance and she’s quickly whisked away, but she makes sure to turn around and wave at him as she disappears into the crowd. 

“Not happening,” Chad says, walking up behind Ethan. The curly-headed boy turns to his roommate who’s shaking his head. “You stay away from her with your little puppy-dog eyes, alright?”

“What?” Ethan asks with a small, nervous chuckle. Chad shakes his head, pointing at Ethan.

“I know your tricks, alright?” Chad says, a little harsher. Ethan’s eyes widen momentarily, shaking his head.

“No, no, no,” Ethan says, “There’s no tricks, I swear. I’m just--”

Chad’s stern face fades into a smile, the boy leaning over with laughter. He looks up at Ethan, but he only laughs harder when he sees the other boy’s face.

“You should see yourself right now, man,” Chad laughs. Ethan anxiously joins in on Chad’s laughter. “Don’t worry, Landry, I’m not gonna hurt you or anything. Jesus, you looked terrified.”

“I kinda was,” Ethan mumbles, just loud enough so only he could hear it. Chad claps Ethan’s arm, shaking him a little bit.

“I’m just playing with you,” Chad says, calming down. “But seriously, stay away from her, Landry.”

“I will, I will,” Ethan says, hands up in surrender. He drops his arms back to his sides and tilts his head, “Why? Are you two…”

“No,” Chad says, shaking his head with an amused smile, “I just have to look out for her because nobody else will.”

“I’m back!” Winnie says through a sing-song voice . She peeks around Chad and he wraps an arm around her.

“Hey kid,” Chad says, looking down at her. He glances back up at Ethan, shooting him a look.

“And I brought you boys gifts,” she says, holding two shot glasses out to them. Ethan looks at Chad for permission and the bigger boy nods at him.

Ethan takes the small cup, “Where’s yours?”

“I don’t drink alcohol anymore,” she says, shaking her head. She reaches into her bag and pulls out a bottle with a wink, “But I do drink cranberry juice.”

Chad furrows his brows, narrowing his eyes at the girl, “Excuse me?”

She looks up at him innocently, “Huh?”

Chad shakes his head, “Nevermind.” Winnie looks at Ethan for an answer, but the boy quickly looks away from her. Chad lifts his cups, “Hey, cheers to the dynamic duo of Hortense Tower, third floor, room 315. And Winnie.”

“And Winnie!” the girl cheers, her bottle tapping their shot glasses. She takes a sip of her juice and watches the boys. Chad downs the shot with a slight grimace, and Ethan immediately spits it back into the glass. She giggles at him, offering him her juice to wash it down. “Oh, man. Time to start making moves. Yeah, get you out there. Introduce you to some girls!” Chad says, nodding to a girl in a Harry Potter costume, “What about her?”

Instead of looking at the dancing girl, he looks at Winnie. Her eyes are locked onto the girl Chad is looking at. Her face is stoic, void of any emotion. Then like a switch she smiles, looking up at Ethan. He quickly looks over to the girl he should have been looking at the entire time.

“She’s gorgeous,” he says. He watches Winnie in his peripheral, her blinking is rapid for a moment and she forces the smile to stay on her face. Was she jealous?

“Great. Ask her out,” Chad says.

“No, I can’t,” Ethan chuckles nervously, glancing at Winnie momentarily. She’s now on her phone, clicking on the Instagram logo without a care for what was happening between the boys.

“Ask her out! Ask her out!” Chad chants. He looks at Winnie, “Tell him, Win.”

“What?” she says, angling her phone at her chest and looking up at them.

“You gotta have confidence,” Chad says, emphasizing the last word. He backs up to look at Ethan, “Plus, look at you, man! You’re a snack! Practically an entire meal all on your own.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! You’re Ethan Landry,” Chad says, leaning an arm on Ethan. He turns to the girl, calling out to her. Ethan whispers Chad’s name, trying to stop him, but there’s no point. “My friend here, he’s a snack, right?”

She shrugs, her face not showing any sign of interest. She turns back to her friends who shake her head and laugh with her. Chad laughs at the girl’s reaction a little.

“What did that mean?” Ethan asks.

“No, it’s good. It’s good,” Chad says.

“What?”

“It’s not bad. There’s room for improvement!” Chad says.

“Well I think you’re a snack,” Winnie says, bumping Ethan with her arm. He looks down at her with a smile, but his next words are lost when he sees her lips wrapped around another sucker. It’s red, matching her costume, and her lipstick is staining the base of the stick. She licks the candy, bringing it back into her mouth.

“Thank you,” he breathes out, responding to the wide-eyed girl.

“Hey, big guy, you’re needed,” Anika says, popping around the corner to look at Chad. Chad pats Ethan’s chest, following Anika away from where they were.

“Come on,” Winnie says, taking Ethan’s hand into her own. She follows Chad, keeping a small distance between them. They settle in a doorway, watching Chad confront a guy on the staircase with Tara. Winnie puts herself close to Ethan, her back against his front. She looks up at him, popping the lollipop out of her mouth. Before she can say anything Chad drags the guy down from the staircase. Winnie gasps and Ethan wraps his arm around her, pulling her backwards as he steps out of the way.

The two boys push each other back and forth, shouting at one another. Their shouting ceases when Sam makes her way into the room, putting herself between them.

“Sorry to interrupt. I’m just gonna tase you in the balls real quick,” she says, putting the taser exactly where she said she would. The crowd all gasps or grimaces, shocked by the scene in front of them. “Don’t ever lay hands on my sister.”

“Sam. Are you fucking kidding me? You’re stalking me now?” Tara says, approaching Sam. She shakes her head and walks off, pushing through the crowd. Sam follows behind her sister, and the rest of the group scrambles behind them.

“Wait,” Winnie says, grabbing Ethan’s arm. He slows down, falling behind the group with her. She pulls the hat that, in the haze of chasing after the arguing sisters, Anika gave to her off of her head. She tiptoes, messily placing on top of Ethan’s curls. “I really like you.”

“I like you too,” he says. She giggles at his words, looking down at her feet. She looks back up at him with her big, brown eyes. 

“I’ve just been having a lot of fun with you since I transferred here and--”

“Hey!” The two look over at the voice, a girl throwing a drink at Sam. “Murderer!”

The two groups get into a small argument, but naturally fades with the growing distance. Chad, Mindy, Anika, and Tara walk off. Sam stays where she is, fixing her top. Winnie wraps her arms around Ethan’s, sticking close to him after the outburst.

“Hey, I have tissues if you want tissues,” Ethan says as he approaches Sam. He pulls them out of his pocket, counting the pieces of soft paper. “I have, like, three tissues.”

Winnie giggles, but Sam seems less than amused. 

“You are aggressive,” Ethan laughs. Winnie rips the final piece of duct tape off of his sweater and giggles.

“I’m just trying to be helpful,” she says. Somebody pounds at the door heavily and the two look over, as if they can see through it to the culprit.

“You two better not be fucking in there,” Quinn shouts. The two let out hushed laughter, being quiet to worry the girl. “If you two are having sex on my bed I will throw up.”

“One second!” Winnie shouts. She rushes over to her discarded purse, grabbing her lipstick out and motioning for Ethan to lean down.

“What are you--” he whispers, but then the pigment is being rubbed on his lips. She grabs a tissue from Quinn’s nightstand, rubbing the red around his lips to smudge it and doing the same to herself.

“Are you guys actually having sex on my bed?” Quinn exclaims, her voice a little higher now. The doorknob rattles as Winnie looks over her work on Ethan’s lips. She perks up as an idea comes to mind.

“May I, uh,” she pauses, trying to find a nicer way to ask, “Can I kiss your neck?”

Ethan’s eyes widen, taken aback by the question. He quickly forces a calm demeanor that isn’t fooling anyone, nodding and leaning his head to the side. The girl presses messy and quick kisses to his neck, leaving a mix of smudges and clear kiss marks. 

She discards the messy lipstick tissue into her bag and grabs his hand, leading him out the door. Quinn’s eyes widen as she looks between the two. Her mouth falls open a little and she stutters, mouth opening and closing.

“Chad, your friends had sex in my bed!” Quinn exclaims, marching over to the living room. Winnie and Ethan follow behind closely, earning widened eyes from Mindy and Anika. Winnie shakes her head and rolls her eyes to signal it was fake, and the other girls nod, but continue to play along. The three continue through the house, making their way to Tara’s room. “You two better tell your frien-- Oh,” Quinn says, surprised when she sees the proximity of Tara and Chad. Winnie and Ethan widen their eyes, then smile at each other. “Did I cock-block you?”

“What did you just say?” Tara asks.

“I cock-blocked you,” Quinn says.

“No,” Chad says, still not looking at the doorway.

“I cock-blocked you, didn’t I?” Quinn asks.

“Immediate no.”

“Please stop saying the word cock,” Chad says, finally looking up. He quickly looks away from Quinn, his gaze falling on Winnie and Ethan. Their fingers are still intertwined, both of them covered in red lipstick. Winnie shakes her head, but Chad ignores it. He says a quick goodbye to Tara, walking out and towards the pair. Winnie squeals, pulling Ethan to run across the home. They make it to the living room and Winnie puts Ethan behind her.

“Chad it’s a joke,” she says, “No killing my friend, please.”

“I’ll kill him if I want--”

“Murder has struck two students from Blackmore University…”

The announcement grasps the attention of everyone in the room. All five teens perk up, looking at the TV. Mindy and Anika scramble for the remote, while the other three stand there for a second, too in shock to react.

“Go get Sam,” Winnie says. She looks up at Chad, “Sam! Now! Go!”

“Right, yeah,” Chad says, walking towards the door.

“Tara!” Winnie calls, making her way over and swinging the door open.

“What?” Tara asks, looking up from her phone with faux-annoyance. She observes the fear on her friend’s face, and the playful negativity wipes away, worry taking its place. “What?”

“News,” Winnie says. Tara immediately shoots up, both making their way to the living room. They watch the announcement in horror, Sam joining the group at some point.

“Jason Carvey and Greg Bruckner.”

“Holy shit, that’s that chode from our Film Studies class! The one obsessed with Argento,” Mindy says. Winnie sighs, squeezing Ethan’s hand tighter for a second.

“...various Ghostface costumes, a character popularized by the Stab movie franchise.”

The group falls quiet for a moment, all looking at one another when the familiar name is mentioned.

“No,” Winnie cries quietly, trying to push herself further against Ethan. 

“Pack a bag. We leave in ten,” Sam says. A small argument ensues between the sisters as Chad kicks out ‘cute guy.’

“Are you okay?” Ethan asks quietly. She turns around in his lap, her legs now on the side of him. She twists her body the rest of the way to face him. That’s when he sees the tears slowly rolling down her cheeks, dragging some of the black mascara down with it. Her lip quivers for a second and Ethan feels lost for a second, unsure of what to do.

“I can’t do this again,” she whispers, shaking her head. Ethan nods, pulling her into a hug -- the only thing he really can do. Mindy shoots him a suspicious glare, but doesn’t interfere with the moment. She cries into him for a minute, pulling away to wipe at her tears as she steadies her breathing.

“You three, back me up here,” Sam says, looking at the other ex-Woodsboro residents.

“It is a little bit…” Chad starts.

“Close to home,” Mindy finishes.

“Yeah, Tara,” Winnie shakes her head.

“That doesn’t count, Winnie thought the maintenance man was gonna kill her the other day,” Tara says.

“Chad and Mindy still agree that this is not a coincidence, Tara,” Sam says. Tara turns to Quinn, asking for help from her dad. She gets on her phone immediately, announcing that she’s calling him. Simultaneously, Sam’s phone begins ringing from the table. Everyone jumps a little, and Winnie hides herself in Ethan’s neck.

“Who is it?” Tara asks. Sam doesn’t answer her question, instead hitting the decline button. 

“Why did everyone just freak out when her phone rang?” Ethan asks.

“You gotta keep up, my dude,” Anika says, “If Pooh bear can read the situation, you should be able to too.”

Winnie pulls away from him, “Can you walk me home? I don’t want to go alone.”

“Yeah,” Ethan nods, “Let’s go.”

The two gather their belongings and say their goodbyes. Chad and Mindy watch them carefully as they leave, peering out the window until they’re no longer in sight. Once they’ve created some distance between them and the building, Winnie reaches for Ethan’s hand.

“I’m really scared, Ethan,” she admits.

“I know.”

“I can’t go through this again. I barely survived the first time. I can’t… I can’t.” Her final words are said through a sob, the emotion shaking her entire body. She stops where she’s standing, hiding her face behind one arm. Ethan does the only thing he can, again, and pulls her into him.

“Hey, listen to me,” he says, squeezing her body close to his. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“You don’t get it Ethan,” she says, crying harder, “It doesn’t matter that you say that! If Ghostface wants to kill me they will. They won’t stop till-- Till they’re dead or till they win.”

“Look at me,” Ethan says. He puts some space between their bodies, but keeps his hold on her arms. She looks at him through her tear-filled eyes. He holds her gaze for a moment, the quiet blanketing the moment. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

[familyvideostevie]

i will always be right there

a quick fluff fest for emmy of @upsidedownwithsteve, who convinced me to get out of my writing slump with the following prompt: you come first.  you’re always my first choice. | 1.8k, fluff, fem!reader

You stare at the phone in the break room for at least ten minutes before you decide to pick it up. It takes you another few breaths to punch in the number. It's only 1pm on a Friday but the entire week weighs heavy on your shoulders and a few too many people have yelled at you already and you just want to sit at home alone tonight. 

But you told Steve you'd go to a party with him. He's you to be ready at 8 for him to swing by and grab you before you spend hours in someone else's apartment having a nice time. But you just don't want to anymore. Your mood is plummeting by the minute and the thought of disappointing him makes it fall faster.

Not that he'll be disappointed -- he never is, not with you. So there's no reason to be nervous as you listen to the line ring. 

"Steve speaking, how can I help you?" You can hear voices in the background so he must have picked up the front desk line. 

"Hi," you say, softly. You twirl the chord around your fingers and imagine him leaning against the counter looking effortlessly handsome.

"Hey you," he replies, voice light and pleased. "You on your break?" A child shrieks somewhere near him. 

"I am," you say. Best just to get it over with. "I don't want to keep you too long but...I don't think I want to go to the party tonight anymore."

"Oh." There's some shuffling as if he's moving the receiver from one shoulder to the other. "That's fine. Are you okay?"

"Just tired," you tell him. "A little down. I don't think I'll be much fun tonight."

"Well, I'll just come by when I'm done with work and we can have a night in, no biggie--"

"Steve," you interrupt. "You're meant to be bringing the beer. And honestly, I really don't mind. You should go." He doesn't reply for a few seconds and you chew on your lip. It's not that you don't want to spend time with him or don't want his comfort. It's that you haven't been seeing each other for very long and you don't want to come off as...needy.

"Are you sure?" he says. "I don't like the idea of you being sad and me going to a party." It sounds like he's knocking his fist on the table in a random rhythm as he talks, something you've noticed he does when he thinks. "Unless it's the kind of sad where you want to be alone?"

"If you want to come over to my place after the party and spend the night I wouldn't be upset about that." You gave him a key to your place only a few weeks ago but he's yet to use it. Part of you wants to take up his offer and ask him to abandon the party altogether, but he really did promise to bring like, three cases of beer and you know Steve is the kind of guy who follows through. And you want him to have fun and not be weighed down by your own fatigue. 

"Okay," he says. "Okay, I'll come over later." Someone yells his name. "Shit," he says. "I'm sorry, but I gotta go. But I'l see you tonight, okay?"

The rest of the day passes by slowly. You almost talk yourself into calling him back and telling him that you'll go, but then you close your eyes and feel so tired you can barely stay on your feet. You feel sad and guilty and bummed and you just want to sit on the couch and do nothing.

So when you get home, that's exactly what you do. You change into an old pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that might be Steve's and order some pizza. You hum to yourself as you wait for it, gathering blankets and pillows and tossing them all on the couch before selecting a tape at random from the pile Steve brought over last week and popping it in the TV.

The clock on the wall reads 8pm when your doorbell rings. You pad over it in socket feet and a twenty in your hand and open the door, half expecting it to be Steve, but it's just a delivery boy. You thank him and take your pizza straight to the coffee table in front of your couch and plop down on the floor. You open the box and turn it so that your side of the pizza is closest -- you got Steve's toppings on the other half in case he's hungry when he comes over. 

The movie is fine but forgettable and the pizza is pretty greasy but satisfying. 

You don't know how long has passed but you've almost eaten half of the pizza when someone knocks on your door. It's a silly knock, a rhythm only evident to the person doing it, and it makes you smile. "Come in, Steve," you yell. You hear him fumble with unlocking it a little but but then the door opens and there is he, hair a mess and a plastic bag from the supermarket in his hand. 

"Look at you eating on the floor," he says. "Gross." His voice is so fond you want to hide your face in your hands. 

"My house my rules, Steve," you say. "What do you have there? And what time is it? Did you go to the party?" He toes off his shoes and hangs his coat and wanders to the kitchen. 

"Ice cream," he says. "If you want some. It's around 9, I think?" He must check his watch but you can't see it over the couch. "Yeah, just after 9. I went for a little." He hops over the couch suddenly and you yelp but he's careful not to displace the pizza as he slides down onto the floor next to you. You get a good look at him for the first time all day -- jeans and a long sleeved cream shirt, cheeks a little pink from the cold and hair floppy like he's been running his hands through it. He looks relaxed, happy. 

"It's early, Steve," you say, frowning just a little. He slings an arm around you as he wiggles a little on the carpet, trying to get comfortable as the movie continues to play quietly. 

"Well, I dropped off the beer and said hi to some people. Who all say hi to you, by the way." He toys with the hem of your borrowed t-shirt. "And here I am. I thought I'd hang out with you, if that's okay." You know that he'd leave if you told him you wanted some alone time, but that's the opposite of what you want. You always want to be near Steve.

"Of course it's okay," you tell him, softly. "I'm glad you're here." He grins at you before leaning in to place a feather-light kiss to your temple. 

"Can I have some pizza?" You nod and turn the box towards him. "Did you do that half for me?" He groans in happiness and you roll your eyes at his boyish attitude.

"You didn't have to come over, Steve," you say as he takes a bite. He chews quickly and swallows.

"Yeah, but I wanted to." The crease between his brows deepens and you reach up to smooth it out with your thumb. How do you convey this to him correctly?

You take a deep breath. "I just don't want to be the girlfriend that makes you miss things because she's feeling kind of down." Steve's jaw works as he listens. The arm around your shoulders tightens a little and he brushes his fingers along your bare arm. 

"Good thing you're the girlfriend I love so much I want to hang out with her when she's kind of down," he parrots back to you. He looks petulant as he says it before biting into his piece of pizza for emphasis.

"I guess that's fine," you say. "But do you understand what I mean? I don't want you to cancel things for me, or change plans because I don't want to go."

He wipes his hands on a napkin you put out and turns so that his torso faces you entirely as his legs press against yours. His hand cups your face, thumb stroking the skin of your cheek. "You come first," he says, gaze firmly on you. "You're always my first choice. Whether you're sad, or sick, or tired, or happy, or anything else. Always."

The moment feels a little too intense to occur while you're sitting on the floor eating pizza, but that's just how being with Steve is. He says the most loving things to you at random moments without even thinking about it. Loving, for him, seems to be as easy as breathing. It's overwhelming and wonderful and makes you feel like you are flying. 

"You're my first choice, too," you tell him. He releases you but stays turned towards you as he reaches for another piece of pizza. 

"And what about the feeling down part?" he asks. You notice a bit of pizza sauce on his lip and you wipe it away with the pad of your thumb before licking it off of your own skin. His eyes are shining and his mouth is curled up at the end as he watches you. 

"I'll be fine," you say. "But it's nice that you're here." When you first started dating, Steve might have pushed you a little to tell him more, to find a problem that he could solve with trinkets or food or something else. But now he knows well enough that he's not responsible for that -- that he can believe you when you tell him that he helps just by being around, that you'll be honest if you do need something. So he just hums and scrunches his nose as he finishes another piece. 

"Can we sit on the couch now?" he says. "This carpet is making my ass hurt."

You flick his bicep. "Sure, pretty boy." He hops up and hauls you after him, his hand warm and firm in yours for just a few seconds. "Ice cream in a bit?" you ask. 

He grins. "I got like, four flavors. So we can have an ice cream bar. Do you have hot fudge still?" You nod. He starts to clean up the pizza, picking up the box and napkins and heading for the kitchen, but before he can you tug on his arm. 

"Hey," you say. "Thank you for coming over." He smiles at you, boyish and charming and a little amused, as if he's saying where else would I be? So you lean in to kiss him on the cheek, the beginnings of his stubble prickly against your lips. He whines a little when you pull away and you roll your eyes but go in for a real kiss this time because he just looks so lovely and he's yours.

"What movie are we watching?" he says when you pull away. 

"I honestly have no idea, Steve," you say with a snort. He laughs and you realize that it's your favorite sound in the world. 

tags: @cheerupbarry @srrybutno @97soroka @sunlitide @gloryofroses19 @carpediem1219 @themarvelousbee@sunshinehollandd @katsukis1wife @imherefortea @spideyboipete @lonelywidow @louderfortheback @actual-mom-steve-harrington @steveharringtonscarkeys @pennyllanne @ducky-is-dead-inside @ih3artcry1ng @escape-in-time-x @sea040561 @manyfandomsfanvergent @blandyton @liberhoe @annaisweird @dahliamae @bufusregularis @vecnuthy

reblog, send feedback, requests open, masterlist here!

[mbappebby]

Stargirl || Five

Ivy Carter (OC) x f1 grid

Summary: Ivy achieves her dream of winning her first ever race, making many people proud of her

Requested: Yes, by anonymous: Hi!! Love Stargirl, we need one where Ivy wins her first race and everyone is so proud of her!! Also, by anonymous, Stargirl is actually so good, I love it so much!! Can I request one where Ivy wins her first ever race? x

Series

Taglist: @myluvtaeil @eugene-emt-roe @itsjustkhaos

“We have watched her overcome every possible challenge, since the moment she first stepped foot in the paddock. She has faced it all, and today, she will finally stand on that top step, where she belongs!—

—the chequered flag waves for the 18 year old! And history is made today, Ivy Carter wins the British Grand Prix and becomes the first woman ever to win a race in Formula 1! What an incredible moment we have all witness!”

R- You’ve done it!! You done it! Ivy Carter, you are a formula 1 race winner!

Ivy- WOOO!! AHHH!! We did it!! Thank you guys so much, I couldn’t have done it without you all!!

R- Proud if you kid! Driver of the day as well!

Ivy- Awh thanks!! We did it Bono!!!

R- A huge congratulations to you Vee! You did it and I never any doubts you wouldn’t! Proud of you kid!

Ivy- Thank you so much Toto!!

R- That’s one for the history books, you’ve proved everyone wrong! So proud of you sweetheart!

Ivy- I love you Susie!!

After Ivy finished talking to everyone, she turned her radio off and drove around the track in silence, to try and realise what she had just achieved.

A formula 1 race winner.

First ever female to win a race in formula 1.

One of the youngest race winners in history.

She did it.

Ivy drove into parc-fermé and parked behind the P1 sign. She sad there for a bit before getting out of the car, and standing on the front of it while pointing to the crowd.

She jumped down and instantly ran into the arms of the Mercedes crew. Ivy took her balaclava and helmet off before making to way over to Ryan and Bono. “Proud of Vi, so proud of you!” Ryan said.

“You did it, Vee!” Bono added. “Thanks for everything, we won this together!” Ivy added as she hugged them both before running over and jumping in the arms of Toto and Susie.

Ivy couldn’t contain herself anymore, tears started to fall down her face and she hugged the pair tightly, who were basically parents to her. “We are so proud of you” Susie said. “You deserve this so much, Vee” Toto added.

“I love you guys, so much” Ivy mumbled as Susie kissed her forehead before they pulled away. Ivy made her way over to the weighing scales before putting her helmet down and had a drink of water.

“Ivy having a moment with Toto and Susie, we’ve heard about what these two have done to help Ivy to get where she is today, just a bit overwhelming for the young brazilian..”

“I think nearly the whole garage is down there with Ivy, she’s been a junior driver for years and the Mercedes team have all seen her become the driver she is today”

It wasn’t long before she was lifted up into a hug from behind. “You did it lil sis!” George exclaimed putting Ivy down as they hugged tightly. “Vee!! You did it!!” Alex added as he hugged her after she pulled away from George.

“I can’t believe it!!” Ivy replied. “Vi! You did it!” Lando exclaimed as he came running over, almost knocking Ivy off over. “Be careful, you muppet!” Carlos said as he walked over with Charles.

“Sorry! I’m just so happy for you!” Lando added. “Lando and Vi can actually be nice to each other?” Charles joked as Lando rolled his eyes. “Congrats Vee!” Carlos said.

“First of many, that is!” Charles added. “Thank you, it still feels surreal” Ivy replied. “Crazy defending Ve, you deserve this!” Max added as they hugged. “Thanks Max!” Ivy said with a smile.

“You can see many of the drivers congratulating Ivy, someone is like a little sister to them all! Many of them have known her for years, others only since the beginning of the season!”

“Well, the interviews will be starting soon with our race winner first, however she seems to be looking around and looking for a certain someone”

Ivy was waiting to be called over to do her interview but a lot of the other drivers came over to congratulate her. Ivy was about to be called for the interview, when she seen someone she’s been waiting to see.

Ivy ran over to Lewis and basically jumped into his arms. “I did it Lew! I did it!” Ivy exclaimed as they hugged tightly. “I never had any doubts you wouldn’t Vee, you deserve this so much. You’ve proved everyone wrong and inspiring so many girls like you” Lewis told her as they pulled away.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, I couldn’t have done it without you” Ivy said. “I’ve just been here when you needed me, this was all you Vee” Lewis added as he kissed her forehead.

“I think that answers what Ivy was waiting for, Lewis is down there with the girl who replaced him at Mercedes. They’ve known each other for years, just having a moment together!”

“Lewis has always talked highly of Ivy and has always defended her when someone has something bad to say to her! You can see how proud he is of her, been there since the beginning!”

“Ivy! Congratulations, first win in formula 1 and the first ever female to win a race, can you try and just explain how are you feeling right now?” NAOMI SCHIFF asked as the crowd cheered for the young girl.

“Thank you, I’m out of words really on how I can describe this feeling. I’ve been through and overcome a lot to get where I am today and it’s just so surreal to say that I’ve actually won a race in formula 1” Ivy said with a big smile on her face.

“I think it’s safe to say everyone is happy for you today, I also think seeing you win today will make many other girls realise that it is possible to achieve the goal of being in formula 1, what your thoughts on that?” Naomi added.

“I hope I have inspired all the girls in formula 1 academy and other girls who are karting and racing right now, you just need to keep on working hard and you’ll get the outcome you want. I hopefully will see some of you up here with me soon!” Ivy replied.

“Thank you Ivy, congratulations once again!” Naomi told her as Ivy waved up to the crowd who once again cheered loudly for her. After Max and Lando did their interviews, the three of them made their way to the cool-down room.

The three of the talked about the race while watching the replays, before they were all called out onto the podium. When Ivy walked out, the crowd cheered loudly for her as if it was her home race.

Ivy had a big smile on her face when she heard the Brazil national anthem playing, something that many people hadn’t heard in formula 1 for a couple years.

After the Brazil national anthem finished, the German one started playing for Mercedes. Before the trophies were given out and Ivy held her high in the year and pointed down towards her team.

Then, everyone’s favourite part about the podium. The champagne, Ivy couldn’t pick her up before she was already being sprayed by Max, Lando & Ryan who had come up to represent Mercedes.

Ivy just enjoyed the feeling, she had done it.

A formula 1 race winner.

//

instagram

@ivycarter

⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️

⚪️⚫️⚪️⚪️

⚪️⚪️⚫️⚪️

⚪️⚪️⚪️⚫️

Liked by vinijr, lewishamilton and 5,173,083 others

ivycarter: I DID IT!! On a serious note, I would have never of thought I would say that I was going to win my first race in formula 1, in my rookie year!! It's such a surreal moment for me, and I can't thank my team and everyone involved enough. I hope I have finally proven to those people who don’t think I belong here. To all the young girls who are racing now, never let anything bring you down and know you belong in the sport and will achieve your dreams!! Thank you everyone for the support this weekend, it means so much I love you all!!💗🇧🇷

tagged: mercedesamgf1

view all 41,946 comments

username YAY!!!

username Toto & Susie looked so proud😭💗

username Congrats Vee!! So deserved!!🤩

username What a race, what a drive!

lewishamilton proud of you kid❤️

ivycarter I love you Lew!!💗

username Ivy & Lewis >>

username Awhh, I love how Lewis just joined in the team celebration!😭

username The way Ivy jumped in Lewis’s arms!🥹

username Everyone looked so proud of her🥰

vinijr Parabéns Vee! Need to come visit us!🙌🏾🤍

rodrygogoes Ayyy congrats Vi! Visit Madrid soon?👀

ivycarter Ahh thanks guys, I’ll be there😊💗

username Awhh Vini and Rodrygo!!

username I completely forgot Ivy was Brazilian😅

charles_leclerc Congrats Vee, that’s one of many!❤️

ivycarter Thanks Char!!🤍

username Congrats Ivy!!

username Toto & Susie >>>

username Everyone is so proud of you!!

username Stargirl🤩

georgerussell63 That’s my lil sis, congrats Vi!🙌🏼❤️

alex_albon *My little sis, proud of you Vee!!

landonorris **Both wrong!! CONGRATS VEE!!🎉

ivycarter I love you ALL!❤️

username 2019 rookies fighting over Vee..who will win?

username I love how everyone is so proud of her!!

username Ahhhh congrats!!💗

carlossainz55 Ayy congrats lil one!🎉

ivycarter Thanks Carlo🫶🏼

username So deserved🤩

username Everyone is like a proud older brother😂💗

username Vee’s nickname for everyone >>

maxverstappen1 Finally! Huge congrats, Vi!🙌🏼

ivycarter Thanks Maxyyy!!!😊

username Nahh Ivy is literally the paddock princess!

username Has everyone wrapped around her finger😭

mercedesamgf1 That’s our girl❤️

ivycarter MY TEAM❤️

username Ivy at Mercedes was the best thing that’s could of happened this year!!

username When Ivy started crying with Toto & Susie😭

susie_wolff One for the history books, so proud of you sweetheart❤️

ivycarter Couldn’t of done it without you and Toto, I love you!!❤️

username Nahh Toto & Susie are literally her parents😭

username I think everyone started crying when they all hugged!

oscarpiastri Huge congrats Vee!!🙌🏼

ivycarter Thanks Osc!!💗

username SO HAPPY!! CONGRATS VEE!!

username What a race🤩🤩

prema_team That’s our Ivy❤️

ivycarter 🥰🥰

username I swear not one person isn’t happy for Ivy!

username What a season this is turning out to be!

username STARGIRL🤩

[sugar-omi]

pls cove + lactation is actually crazy... we're gonna have to come back for more bc i can't stop thinking abt it. DILF/SUGAR DADDY COVE W LACTATION..... pls i gots to go we will talk abt this LATER!!!

DAY TWELVE — LACTATION

*kinktober masterlist | *ao3

tags : drabbles, NSFW, fem/afab + bottom reader, titfucking, oral (cove receiving), mention of getting pregnant again, raw sex

synopsis : cove helps you with your full tits, he's definitely taking advantage of it. / you're not producing as much milk anymore and you can't help but tease cove about his disappointment.

"is this.. hahh- your idea of helping?" you exhale shakily.

he was supposed to be helping you apply lotion to your boobs and pump. not sucking on your nipples, lapping up your milk.

"argh- gentle." you remind him, pushing against his head.

cove pops off your nipple with a pop. you can't look away from his wet lips, his tongue darting out to lick his lips and stops groping your other breast to lick his fingers clean…

dirty bastard.

you grind your butt against his lap, his bulge right under your cunt, and he can't help but groan.

"now they're uneven…" you fret, weighing your boobs in your hands. you didn't wanna admit out loud, but cove sucking on your boobs really helped…

he licks his lips, swallowing. there's so many thoughts in his head and he can admit, they're all about your boobs.

your boobs have gotten bigger since you got pregnant and sensitive because of it.

your boobs were already big but are noticeably more sensitive, especially after nursing.

he already loved your chest but now… God he has to tear his eyes away every time because unfortunately, he can't spend all day admiring his wife's full, leaky tits.

"go ahead and say it."

"huh?" cove blinks dumbly. fuck he got lost in his thoughts again..

"say it. you're thinking something right?" you lift up your boobs, a couple trails of milk running down your hand. "you've nearly sucked me dry.. so what is it? wanna fuck my tits?"

cove bursts into a bright red blush, and pauses before he nods… "please?"

you roll your eyes, unbuckling cove's pants. "no need to beg, just c'mere and fuck me."

he rushes to tug down his pants while you get situated on the bed, beckoning him towards you.

you reassure cove he won't squish you, and to stop worrying. you reach over for the lube, pouring it over your cleavage and roughly spreading it around.

cove gapes at you, he and his cock drooling at the sight.

he swallows, his dick is throbbing at this point, and pushes your boobs together, sliding his dick between your tits.

"mm." cove moans lowly, his teeth gritted.

fuck this is hot, even you have to admit.

with every thrust his dick drags along your slippery tits, his tip poking out from your cleavage, the red, weepy tip a nice contrast with your shiny tits.

"fuck..." cove groans, his fingers digging into the flesh of your boobs. it doesn't hurt, and you thought it'd be overstimulating but it feels so good and turns you on so, so much...

he squeezes your left tit, milk spurting out from your nipple, it runs down your tit, adding onto the wet mess of lube.

cove curses, squeezing your chest again. you huff, milk running down your sides and getting on the bed sheets. you've already decided to make him clean up the mess.

admittedly, the mess is alluring. your milk coating his dick and making loud, wet squelching noises as he thrusts faster into your tits.

"fuck!"

cove curses hen you add your mouth to the mix, your lips wrapping around his tip whenever it peeks out, your tongue lapping up the mix of cum and breast milk.

"y/n... i'm gonna..." cove mumbles, humping your chest.

you hum around his tip, putting your hands over his to guide him into moving your boobs.

he throws his head back, pushing his hips up further into your mouth, your tongue lavishing it with attention and you hollow your cheeks, sucking and teasing his urethra with the tip of your tongue.

cove groans, squeezing your boobs and almost collapsing when he falls over the edge, his cum flooding your mouth and with the position you're in, some of it escapes past your lips and runs down your chin.

you let go of his ass so he can pull away. he's so enraptured by the scene though.. your tits rising up and down with your panting, his cum and your milk mixed together.

your teasing expression doesn't help, but he doesn't have enough humility to be too embarrassed..

you wipe your chin, sticking your fingers in your mouth to clean up the mess. "happy now?"

you're not producing like you used too, and now your son is on baby food.

which is good, great actually because your son is getting his teeth and apparently the lil bastard doesn't know what "ouch!" or "fuck!" means.

it's a bit unfortunate for your husband though. since he's uselessly sucking your boobs, getting maybe a few drops from your chest.

"geez, are you sure you're not the infant around here?"

cove flushes, pulling off your nipple with a pop. "shut up.."

you laugh, petting back his hair. "sorry, you just look so much like a baby."

cove rolls his eyes, thrusting up into your cunt.

"fuck!" you shout, scrambling to cling onto the pillows, trying to keep your head from hitting the headboard with the power of cove's thrusts.

"well since we're teasing each other now... i think you look cute on my dick." cove holds your thighs for leverage, enjoying how your eyes roll back and your back arches off the bed.

"y'know, river is going to need a sibling. so let me help you when you start lactating." cove leans down, dropping your legs so they're at his waist and he can thrust up into you, caging you between his arms so he can steal a kiss.

"the baby won't know what they're missing if you lactate before they're born, so indulge me a little bit.." cove purrs.

your nails drag down his back and you close the gap between you, stealing a kiss before you growl out.

"you're insufferable. stop thinking about your stomach and fuck me. in fact... maybe i'll start milking you until i'm pregnant again, that sounds fun..."

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Pairings: None

Word Count: 1,794 Words

Summary: The solar eclipse after Solar's death has an energy to it.

Warnings: Character Death, Caps, Cursing, Overworking, Self-Hatred (from Moon, of course), Sleep Deprivation, Blood (minor), Minor Injury, Ghost, Magic, Mind Meld, Soul Bond, Sharing A Body/Brain, Pain, Nausea, let me know if I should add anything else.

Binding And Bonding

Solar woke up in an abyss. Everything around him was darkness. He could see a vague ring of light around him, lighting up the rest of his surroundings decently well. He could vaguely hear something being said into the void around him in a vaguely familiar voice but he was knocked out before he could acknowledge the voice.

-Two And A Half Weeks Earlier-

"I don't wanna go…" Solar muttered, body deteriorating and slowly disintegrating as it collapsed to the floor like his dimension likely was. Moon was quick to grab him and try to keep him steady but it wasn't any use given he couldn't feel his legs anymore.

"You don't have to!" Moon insisted, holding Solar as close as he could, Solar feeling Moon's hands slip through him as he could feel himself fading into an abyss.

"Solar? SOLAR!" Solar could vaguely hear Moon screaming as he went into a void.

-A Week Later-

"Moon, you're pushing yourself. You aren't charging or resting." Eclipse finally broke and snapped at him.

"Maybe I would if I hadn't fucked everything up!" Moon screamed back at him, too stressed to not scream at the inconveniences anymore, too focused on getting Solar back now.

"Moon, you're at a max of five percent." Eclipse reminded him.

"I'll charge when my brother is back." Moon growled venomously, eyes turning to glare that Eclipse dare interrupt him but Eclipse had gotten used to Moon being like this fairly quickly. Eclipse knew Moon would inevitably run himself down and then Eclipse could carry Moon off to bed.

Thankfully, Eclipse got that opportunity sooner rather than later as Moon stumbled and his hand hit a tray, knocking it to the floor with Moon collapsing to the floor as well a few seconds later.

Eclipse went and finally was able to scoop the poor sap up and groan at how heavy Moon was, muttering complaints about how much Moon weighed as he kicked the door to Parts & Service open for him since he was busy carrying Moon.

"You." Ruin caught Eclipse's attention before Eclipse was able to leave.

"Yeah, what about me? Want me to come in there and kill you finally?" Eclipse asked.

"No, actually. I would like you to forget Protocol 87.775.2, actually." Ruin told him and Eclipse tilted his head in question, not really knowing what Ruin was talking about.

"Forget about what?" Eclipse asked.

"Exactly! Good job! Thank you! Be on your way now!" Ruin cheerily told him and Eclipse shook his head and carried Moon up to the daycare and through the portal to the house, sighing seeing Sun's cats practically waiting for Moon, though they hissed as if they hated him anyway, but Eclipse knew the little cretins were pretending they hated Moon.

Eclipse laid Moon on the couch and put a blanket over him for the cats to crawl on top of and purr now that they knew Moon was sleeping. Eclipse chuckled at the little gremlins. They sure loved their uncle, they were purring on his unconscious body.

Eclipse plugged Moon's charging wire into the wall outlet near the couch and left to go figure out what the hell Ruin was talking about, landing at the daycare computer inevitably. It seemed the computer knew everything anyway so he may as well try.

"Nice attempt, but you are not a member of the Celestial Family." The computer told him.

"Nice joke, I actually am. But I came for answers." Eclipse told the machine.

"Whyever would I give you answers?" The computer asked.

"Ruin mentioned a protocol in me, basically asking me to delete it but I don't know what he was talking about. I will let you scan my code if you look for Protocol 87.775.2." Eclipse told the computer.

"…I will agree to these conditions, only because it may serve well for Moon." The computer agreed. Eclipse plugged himself into the computer for it to scan him and just sat back waiting, all he could do was wait. The computer was doing two things at once and it was taking a while.

Eclipse ended up falling asleep for a bit in the computer chair while the computer did its thing. However, the computer also decided to be an alarm for Eclipse as it woke him up with a loud bussing noise through his circuits.

"HEY!" Eclipse jolted awake, pulling out the cord and thoroughly startled by the computer.

"Ah, good, awake. I have found Protocol 87.775.2 as well as scanned your code." The computer told him.

"And you wake me up like your about to try giving me a controlled shock?" Eclipse snapped.

"Yes, I found it amusing." The computer would've laughed if it could, Eclipse could tell.

"Fine, what is the protocol about?" Eclipse asked.

"This protocol entails a means to what Moon has been working on. A way to undo what has been done." Eclipse scoffed at that.

"So that's why he wanted me to get rid of it. I haven't been alone in a room so he couldn't give me an order to try to get me to delete it until today." Eclipse muttered.

"Unfortunately, it is extremely difficult as it works with the essence of an energy." The computer told him.

"Tell me what I have to do."

-One Week & Four Days Later-

Eclipse walked into the room Solar had died in. He had finally made good on getting everything else ready and Sun and Moon were out with Earth and Lunar, watching the solar eclipse on the roof of the PizzaPlex.

Eclipse had chalk, blood, and a dagger. He hated this, it felt so weird. It felt so awkward to probably be the first person Solar sees when he comes back.

"Solar?" Eclipse calls to whatever remained of Solar's energy, which he had attuned himself to over the last week and a half.

"Solar." Eclipse called to Solar again, sitting down in front of where Solar died. He could feel the energy around him swirling as though Solar was trying to tell him he was there still.

"There you are." Eclipse closed his eyes, holding the chalk and drew a circle of runes with his eyes closed, following the images of runes the protocol was feeding him on the back of his eyelids. The circle was around Eclipse himself and the spot Solar died in, interlocking them.

"Solar, I can feel you. God that sounds weird." Eclipse muttered the last half. The energy jolted like it was laughing at him. "Yeah, laugh it up, idiot. Sit with me." Eclipse sighed. He could vaguely see the outline of Solar's energy sit with him.

"Thank you." Eclipse muttered, knowing he had to thank Solar. He hated that he had to. Eclipse cringed as he poured the blood on the inner ring of the rune circle, watching outside as the sky began to go dark.

"I willingly open this connection for Solar." Eclipse stated as the protocol had, cutting open his right hand with the dagger in his left dominant hand. Eclipse could see that the whisp in his vision that was Solar's energy was interested.

"Hold my hand, Solar and only Solar." Eclipse told the energy. The energy seemed to hold his hand and Eclipse sighed at the feeling, relieved Solar was just listening to him, probably out of curiosity rather than genuine willingness.

"I connect what is mine to what is yours. Wire for wire, energy for energy. I share willingly what is mine with you." Eclipse spoke evenly, making sure to read word for word.

"This day is a connection." Eclipse felt the rune light up with light, blazing as the room went completely dark. "I bind us. Mine is yours. under this light, we become connected." Eclipse lost his breath after these words of the spell, making him choke a bit as he could feel Solar's energy binding to his own, coughing to get air as he could feel his mind breaking in half, body feeling aches and pains as Solar's energy was bonding to him.

Eclipse lurched forward, nauseous as he felt Solar's AI blooming into his head, using the broken-off half of Eclipse's mind, their mind? Eclipse didn't know but he was nauseous. Animatronics weren't supposed to get nauseous. He leaned with his hands on the ground, hearing someone screaming. Was that him? Was he screaming? He still had to say the final words and get Solar to say them too.

Eclipse reached his energy into his mind, making Solar take half control with him, each having control of one half of their? body. Eclipse fed the final words into their vision to make Solar say it with him. Once Solar nodded using their head Eclipse nodded back.

"We claim the energy of the solar eclipse given to us." Both of their voices echoed and the pitch-black void of the room glowed with a peace around them, the white ring around them calmly pulsing with their energies. Eclipse finally felt a peace now as he curled up on the ground, trembling with everything that had happened, too overwhelmed to move but he had to finish it. He had to finish this. He fed to Solar in their optics the final step and words.

Solar was the one to drag their body upright again. Eclipse was shivering, Solar was shivering. The room felt cold. Everything felt cold. Solar seemed to have more force than Eclipse, Solar was learning how to share their energy.

"We undo the damage that has been done through false trust." They made sure to echo each other and Eclipse felt a bloom in his chest of the energy they claimed from the solar eclipse above in the sky still, the ring around them, practically burst into a running visual of universes coming back into being, rebuilding themselves, lives being brought back immediately, everything blooming around them in the circle of light like flowers.

Eclipse gave a soft, exhausted chuckle seeing it and seeing the sky begin to get light again. Once the ring around them finished, the warm feeling slowly dissipated and Eclipse and Solar simply collapsed onto the ground, shaking and taking deep breaths.

"Thank you." Solar whispered.

"I know." Eclipse tried to laugh but all that came out was a wheeze.

"Are you okay?" Solar asked.

"I'm exhausted." Eclipse whispered back.

"Well, you gave up your magic to bring everything back, you're probably going to be exhausted for a while." Solar sighed.

"I expect Moon to thank me, you tell him that if you wake up first." Eclipse told Solar before letting himself ease into unconsciousness, giving Solar control for a brief moment before Solar fell asleep too from being brought back and losing a lot of energy himself.