#update: still staring at the lamp

[stardew-obsessed-ora]

i redecorated my stardew home (will post once stardew stops shitting itself) and morris just keeps staring at everything.

i LOVE the enthusiasm real glad I made the decisions I did (id also zone out staring at a lamp for 2 hours. can't judge)

(i thought he was going toward the kid but no he just stops dead in front of the lamp and stays there)

[millers-girl]

on the line

interconnected standalone/sequel-ish to bitter/sweet and fallout - a Dr. Jack Abbot (The Pitt) fanfic

pairing: Jack Abbot x f!reader

summary: Jack takes a six-week placement across the country. Four specific FaceTime calls—full of banter, longing, and everything unsaid—hold you two together until he comes home.

warnings/tags: grumpy x sunshine, age gap, long-distance relationship, mild language

word count: 5.0k

“What are you wearing?” 

You cracked one eye open, squinting against the soft glow of your bedside lamp. Jack was staring at you through the screen of your phone, propped up on your nightstand. His image was bright against the dim lighting, accenting the sharp set of his jaw and the smirk playing at his lips.

“You know what I’m wearing – we’re on FaceTime,” you mumbled into your pillow, voice thick with sleep. Your limbs felt heavy under the familiar weight of your comforter. “When are you coming back?” 

“You know when I’m coming back,” he echoed, mimicking your tone. “Why’re you asking – miss me?” His voice dropped an octave, teasing, and you saw his eyes flick down your form as you shifted to get more comfortable beneath the covers.

This had been an ongoing game for the last month – every time you talked, one of you tried to get the other to admit they missed them first. Neither of you had cracked. 

Now, that didn’t mean you didn’t miss him. Quite the opposite, actually. 

Jack had been gone for three weeks now, having been offered an intensive placement at UCLA Medical Center. You could still remember how he broke the news—quietly, nonchalantly, like he didn’t want to make a big deal out of it—and how you’d smiled widely and pushed him to take it even as something inside you fought every move.

This is UCLA, you told yourself. He has to take it; it’s an incredible opportunity. How many times does something like this come along?

But knowing it was the right decision didn’t make it easier.

Six weeks. Forty-two days. Nearly fifty sunsets without him. 

After spending almost every day together, the sudden absence had carved out a hollow space in your chest.

The first week, you felt his absence immensely. But you figured, with time, it’d get easier. 

Oh, how wrong you were.

The ache didn’t dull. It sharpened. Everything reminded you of him – how much he’d probably roll his eyes at a joke Eleni told during service, how he’d immediately get to cleaning your apartment if he saw how messy it had gotten, how he’d let you follow him around if he was back at the hospital when you were dropping dinner off for your sister. 

Luckily, technology was on your side. While he was in California, you texted him constantly – mostly one-sided updates on your day, the chaos of the kitchen, the new weird thing your landlord did. He replied in his usual charming fashion: a “K” here, a thumbs-up emoji there.

FaceTime was more his speed. Every night, your phone took up its spot on your nightstand while you curled into bed, half-asleep before he even picked up. He was usually just getting ready for his shift – brushing his teeth, dressing in his scrubs, sometimes sitting in the car with one hand on the wheel. 

“At least it’s regulating my sleep cycle,” you’d joked during one call, watching him frown in that subtle, concerned way he did.

“You love me doing night shifts,” he’d countered. “Said it keeps you on your toes, guessing.”

“Yeah, guessing how much sleep I’m gonna get that night,” you’d teased back, and he’d huffed a small laugh. 

Now here he was, two weeks from coming home, asking you what you were wearing in that low, steady voice of his that always had knots forming in your stomach.

“You already know I’m wearing one of your hundred black tees,” you mumbled, cheek sinking deeper into your pillow. 

“No panties?” he asked, a hint of a smirk at his lips as his eyes gleamed with mischief.

With minimal effort, you peeled back the duvet just enough for him to catch a glimpse of his boxers sitting low on your hips.

“You do miss me,” he grinned triumphantly, a quiet chuckle escaping him. You sighed through a small smile, eyes fluttering shut. His voice, even through the phone, grounded you. “Tell me what you did today.”

You took a moment to think, thoughts clouded by sleep and the warmth of your sheets. “Tried out a new truffle recipe,” you murmured. 

Sure enough, you peeked an eye open just in time to catch his nose wrinkle in disgust. He hated truffles.

The sight made you smile – even 3,000 miles away, Jack was still so Jack.

“Dinner rush was crazy – some show was going on at the theatre down the block so we were packed. Almost ran into one of the sommeliers rushing out of the kitchen. Nicked my finger on the bottle opener he was holding.”

“Let me see,” he said immediately, and you pulled your hand from under the covers and held it up to the camera, watching his eyes narrow. “Did someone at the Pitt take a look?”

“My sister did,” you said, brushing it off. “It’s fine – just a scrape.”

He frowned that familiar, pinched-brow frown.

“You should keep it wrapped,” he muttered. “Could get infected.” 

You mirrored his expression, this time out of something deeper – affection, mingled with longing. “I miss you medically scolding me.” 

Jack paused a beat, then offered softly, “I can still do it over the phone. That’s why they invented FaceTime.” 

“I’m pretty sure that’s not true,” you giggled sleepily, burrowing deeper into your sheets. The weight of him not being there settled over you again, dense and unrelenting. 

Silence stretched for a moment before you opened your eyes again. Jack was still looking at you. “What?” you asked, your voice small.

He hesitated. “Nothing… you just look tired.”

But the way he said it—gentle, weighted—made your throat tighten. 

You didn’t just look tired.

You missed him. You missed sleeping better when he was beside you, the steady rhythm of his breathing syncing with yours as your limbs tangled together. You missed the safety, the stillness. Without him, everything felt a little bit off.

Your hand drifted across the sheets, reaching for his side of the bed – cold, untouched. Your fingers curled into the empty space as if you could will it to hold his warmth. That familiar ache bloomed in your chest again, pressing hard against your ribs, forcing you to acknowledge it.

And the way he was looking at you right now—gaze just soft enough for you to see the emotion behind it—it made the distance hard to bear. 

You wanted to ask him to come back early. Just say it. Just tell him.

But you didn’t.

He was doing something important – teaching residents, working alongside brilliant attendings, contributing to something meaningful. You couldn’t ask him to give that up. So you buried it, like always.

Instead, you asked, “Any exciting cases today?” 

Jack blinked at you, then shrugged, his voice returning to that calm, clinical cadence. “Someone said a guy came in with third-degree burns from resting his hand on the grill – didn’t realize his wife had turned it on.” 

You winced, turning your face into the pillow. “Ugh, Jack – that’s gross.” 

He chuckled softly. “Reminds me of an old army buddy who met the wrong end of a crockpot once.” 

You hummed, already drifting. “Tell me about it.” 

You tried to stay awake, but the familiar and comforting tone of his low voice began to lull you to sleep. A few minutes into the story, Jack noticed your breathing had slowed.

You looked so peaceful.

He watched for a while, the silence between you warm and heavy, filled with all the things left unsaid.

Then, in a quiet voice that barely crossed the distance, he whispered a sweet good night to you and ended the call.

Four weeks into the placement, when Jack FaceTimed you and you answered with a deep-set frown and red-rimmed eyes, he could already tell it would be one of those days. 

The hard days. The days one of you missed the other so much, it was impossible to ignore. The days your heart was three thousand miles away, tucked into the go-bag of your favorite ED attending, somewhere in a cramped locker room in Los Angeles. 

“What’s wrong?” he immediately asked, making your frown deepen. 

“Nothing,” you promised, setting the phone down on your nightstand as you began to get ready for bed. The camera angle wobbled as you moved – half of your frame disappearing, your voice muffled by distance and steam escaping from the open bathroom door behind you.

This was unusual. Whenever Jack called at this time, you were already tucked in bed, cozy and glowing, hair a little messy, a smile curling at the corners of your lips the moment you saw him. 

And, you always showered in the mornings – you said showering at night would intervene with how much time you two got to spend on FaceTime. 

Yet, here you were now – hair wet from the shower, curling at the ends as you moved about your room, distracted and quieter than usual. You pulled on a soft t-shirt, then wandered off-screen, brushing your teeth with a kind of mechanical rhythm.

Jack stayed silent, watching.

He could tell something was bothering you. 

Your hands shook as you did your skincare – too much toner on the pad, moisturizer forgotten halfway through.

“How was your day?” Jack asked slowly, treading lightly, trying to gauge how you were actually feeling.

“Fine,” you mumbled, disappearing again. The faucet turned on in the background as you washed your hands, cool water grounding your overheated nerves before you slipped into bed wit a heavy sigh. 

Jack’s voice came again, cautious, “Anything happen?” He tried to sound casual, but you weren’t in the mood for it now.

You glanced at the screen sharply. “Like what?” 

“I don’t know, just… anything good? Or… something bad?” 

Your jaw tensed as you looked past the phone, voice bitter. “A critic came in today.”

“Oh?” 

You laughed humorlessly. “I didn’t even know who she was, and I told her to fuck off.” 

Jack’s brow rose at that. “And why’d you do that?”

“Because she was being an asshole – and I didn’t recognize her and I was rushing and – and I was exhausted. I just snapped and – and it wasn’t even about her. It’s just… I’m tired. I’m so tired of pretending this isn’t hard.”  

Jack paused, his face softening, the weight of your words hanging thickly between you.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling like this?” 

You shrugged, unwilling to meet his eyes. “Because it’s not your fault,” you finally said. “And I didn’t want to make it your problem.” 

“You’re not a problem.” 

His voice was quiet, thick with the guilt settling into his stomach.

You immediately noticed the shift in his tone – soft and frayed around the edges.

“I didn’t say it to make you feel guilty,” you said, gaze now locking onto his, unwavering. 

“I know,” he replied, tiredly dragging a hand down his face, like he wanted to crawl through the screen and pull you into his arms.

“I just… I miss you.” 

There it was.

You’d finally said it.

And yet, it didn’t make you feel like you’d lost the game – at least, not in the way you thought. And, it didn’t make Jack feel like he won, either.

“I miss you every day,” you continued. “I miss you so much I don’t know where to put it anymore. It’s just there. Always. Like a weight on my chest. And every day, you – you pick up the phone and I see your face and you’re fine. Smiling… Happy. And, it’s just – just… Don’t you miss me? Like, even a little?” 

The moment you said it, you instantly regretted it. 

Jack could tell – the way your eyes squeezed shut in regret, like you wished you could pull the words right back into your chest. It broke his heart even more than hearing the desperation in your voice. 

He found himself looking away, swallowing hard. Then, finally, quietly, he said, “Of course I miss you. I miss you all the time. I just – I don’t let myself think about it too long. If I do, I can’t focus.” 

You knew he’d never say anything hurtful on purpose but the comment still stung. A sharp pang, like a bruise pressed too hard.

If he missed you so much, how come it felt like you were the only one falling apart? If he missed you so much, why didn’t it seem like he felt it?

Before you could stop yourself, the words spilled out. “Right. Got it. I’m over here crying in the walk-in fridge like a lunatic and you get to compartmentalize.” 

His eyes flinched shut, barely perceptible – but you saw it. Instantly regretted your words. And yet, you didn’t take it back.

And he didn’t push back either.

The silence grew too thick, claustrophobic.

After a beat, you shook your head, voice quieter now. “You’re running late – I should let you go. We can just… I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

Your hand reached for the screen, heart already retreating.

“Wait!” Jack’s voice rang out, startling you.

You hesitated, still refusing to meet his eyes, but something in you paused – your ribs tightened at the strain in his voice.

“I think about you all day,” he admitted. “I know I don’t say it enough, but I do. I make a list in my head of all the things to tell you when we finally talk, and then when you pick up and give me that smile, I forget how to say any of it.”

You blinked.

That wasn't what you expected at all.

Still, he kept going. “And I bought you this mug from the UCLA store, in the shape of a smiling sunny face. I keep it in my locker, drink coffee from it before the shift – and all the residents look at me like I’m crazy. But it just… it reminds me of you. Keeps me grounded. Gets me through the shift.

“And your voice notes – I save them all. I listen to one specific one whenever I miss you more than usual – the one where you called me a broody bastard and then basically told me you missed me in the same breath.” 

That cracked something open in your chest. Like air rushing into lungs that had been holding their breath too long.

Soft tears lined your eyes. Not the frustrated kind. The aching, full-hearted kind.

You stared at the screen, heart thudding in your chest, throat thick with emotion. His face was still there – steady, honest, eyes staring back at yours, so full of you. Of all the missing he hadn’t said until now.

He missed you. Of course he missed you. Maybe not in the same noisy, unraveling way you did – but in the quiet, deliberate way only Jack could. Through mugs and voice notes. Through saved recordings and mental lists. Through showing up, every night, even when words failed.

Your lip trembled as a tear ran down your cheek.

“Jack…” you breathed, the apology catching somewhere between a sob and a sigh. 

“I’m sorry,” you finally said, voice low and thick. “I didn’t mean what I said. I just – God – I feel everything right now, and I don’t know if it’s hormones or just the distance or – ” 

That four-letter word was at the tip of your tongue, but it didn’t feel right to tell him over the phone. This deserved to be told in person. He deserved that.

Jack’s face softened, almost imperceptibly, but you caught it – the way his shoulders eased like something fragile in him had finally seemed to settle.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, after a beat, he deadpanned, “It’s both. I checked the app earlier.” 

You stared, stunned. Then, your eyes warmed, the corners crinkling as a small, disbelieving, shaky smile touched your lips. “You track my cycle on your phone?” 

He shrugged, a little too casual. “Ever since the brownies incident – hell yeah.” 

That conversation changed things – in the best way. 

It made both you and Jack more intentional about the time apart. More creative, more present. FaceTimes evolved into something more sacred, more playful. You started doing virtual date nights, much to Jack’s technologically-deficient chagrin.

“I can barely work this FaceCall thing, you want me to do what now?”, to which you’d rolled your eyes and corrected, “FaceTime,” while suppressing a grin.

He’d grumbled, but you caught the way he cleared his evenings anyway – made sure he wasn’t on call any earlier than he needed to be, made sure his dinner (mediocre and suspiciously not homemade) was ready on time. Despite the mismatched time zones, you both made space. You’d end up eating hours apart, but “together” nonetheless. And that was what mattered.

Six days before Jack was set to fly home, you had another one of these date nights. 

The screen flickered to life and there he was – tousled hair you wished you could run your fingers through, half-zipped hoodie you wished you could burrow into, sitting cross-legged on a too-modern couch that definitely didn’t belong to him. He held up a plastic takeout container like it was an offering.

“Dinner, courtesy of the fine culinary skills I’ve learned from you.” 

You raised a brow. “That looks suspiciously like pad Thai.” 

He shrugged. “Maybe I cooked. Maybe the DoorDash guy and I are becoming best friends.”  

You snorted, curling deeper under your blanket as you reached for the remote. “What’d you do yesterday?” 

Jack leaned back with a groan, the kind that said his spine hated him and the previous night had been long. “This guy came in with a ridiculous chest injury. We had to work carefully around the nerve endings in his nipple and – what?” 

He paused mid-sentence, catching the grin spreading across your face.

“Should I be jealous by how excited you just got talking about someone else’s nipples?” you teased.

Jack coughed, nearly choking on his water. “Jesus. It was a very complicated procedure. We had to be extremely precise.” 

“Oh, I’m sure his nipples were deeply moved by your devotion,” you grinned.

“You’re insufferable.” 

“And you miss it.” 

“Unfortunately,” he deadpanned, mouth twitching.

You smiled, feeling that familiar warmth settle into your chest. God, you missed his face. You missed his voice, his sarcasm, the way he looked at you like you hung up the moon. 

You squinted at the screen. “Is it just me or are you getting a tan?” 

Jack glanced down at his arms. “Well, the sun does shockingly exist here. Unlike your vampire den of a kitchen.” 

“I work best when the lights are dim, and you know that!” 

He smirked. “Sure. That explains why every time you call me from there, you look like you’re in a hostage video.” 

You groaned, tossing a throw pillow off your bed. “Well, not all of us can soak up some West Coast rays while also being a nipple whisperer. Guess you’re just built different.” 

“I regret telling you anything about that case.” 

You smirked as The Bachelor theme started playing faintly from your TV. You both fell quiet for a beat, comfortable. It had become your ritual – playing the show in the background, pretending to care about the drama, when really, it was just an excuse to sit in each other’s orbit for a while. 

Midway through the episode, Jack stood up and walked off-screen and came back holding something. You squinted.

“Is that… a bobblehead? Of an avocado… surfing?” 

Jack held it up proudly toward the camera like it was fine art. “Picked it up at a roadside stand. Guy said it was hand-painted by his seven-year-old niece.” 

“It’s so ugly,” you commented, grinning anyway. “I love it!”

He just laughed, setting it on the table behind him so its little bobblehead eyes stared into your soul for the rest of the call. And, his heart grew every time he caught you staring at it.

Later, you rolled onto your side, shifting your phone as you got more comfortable. The new angle must’ve shown more of the room, because Jack leaned in, eyes narrowing.

“You changed the bedroom.”

You panned the camera, shaking your head. “Just been sleeping on your side lately,” you admitted through flushed cheeks, before cutting him off when he smirked and parted his lips to speak. “Don’t! Don’t ask me why. Just helps me sleep better.” 

He didn’t make a joke. Just stared at you with that soft, unreadable look that always made your chest feel like it was going to burst open.

“I missed this view,” he said gently. His voice was low, almost reverent. “That room. That bed. You in it.”

You fiddled with the comforter. “It misses you. The vibe’s been different, though. Less broody. No angry sighs every time the neighbor’s dog barks.” 

“That dog is a demon,” Jack said, on instinct.

“You’re just grumpy when you’re tired,” you teased.

“And you’re grumpy when I’m not there for you to stick those frozen toes under my legs to warm them up.” 

You opened your mouth to retort, paused, then nodded. “Okay, that’s true.” 

Jack laughed.

The show was long forgotten now. All that mattered was the glow of your screens, the way his eyes didn’t leave yours, the way his voice softened like it always did when the night got quieter.

“What do you miss the most?” he asked, almost shy.

You hesitated, then said, “I miss you hogging the blanket.” That made Jack laugh, but you shook your head, insisting, “I’m serious. In like a stockholm syndrome-y way – I miss that. And other stuff, like you leaving all the lights on or waking me up at the stupid hours of dawn when you get back from a shift… The little stuff.” 

Jack nodded, smiling in that slow, aching way. “You know what I miss?” 

“What?” 

“Sitting at the island, watching you test out new recipes – make a mess of the kitchen like you’re on some Food Network competition.”  

You smiled, fond and aching. “That’s the only way I cook.” 

“I know,” he said. “I miss it. Miss you.” 

You let that settle between you. Let it warm you all the way through.

 “In six days, I’m gonna be stuck to you like velcro,” you murmured.

He quirked a brow. “Is that so?” 

You nodded. “And you’re not allowed to leave again, by the way. And if you do, you’re taking me in your go-bag.” You lifted your pinky finger toward the camera. “Promise.” 

Without hesitation, Jack raised his pinky to match yours. “Promise, baby.” 

And for a moment, across the glow of two tiny screens, it almost felt like he was already home.

“Are you here yet?” you asked the second you picked up the FaceTime, barely able to contain the grin stretching across your face. The sounds of the kitchen clattered behind you, but your focus remained on the screen. On him.

Today was the day Jack was coming home and you were giddy with anticipation. 

“I am,” he replied, voice smooth, teasing, “but where are you?”

You groaned, “A last-minute catering order came in, so I had to stay late. Almost just brought the chef’s knife with me to work in the car and just sprint to Arrivals.”

Jack smirked, familiar and smug. “I don’t know how TSA would’ve taken that.” 

“But, I sent a good backup, huh?” 

Jack shifted the camera to the driver’s seat, where Robby sat, looking amused as he drove. “You’re lucky I’m easily bribable with food,” he said. “Picking him up on my day off was not part of the plan.” 

“Yeah, but you’d do it for the filet mignon these magic hands can make, right?” You wiggled your fingers at the screen, and Jack snorted.

“Oh, any day of the week,” Robby agreed, his grin cracking wider.

Jack turned the camera back to himself. He looked tired from the long travel day, but the way he looked at you—like he’d been waiting all day, or rather, six weeks, to see your face—made your chest ache.

You drank him in. Stubble. Black tee. Soft warmth creeping onto his features as he looked at you. 

“How was your flight?” you asked.

“You’re lucky I like you,” he replied, rubbing his jaw. “I just spent six hours sitting in front of a guy who kept stabbing at the screen like it wronged him personally. Kept me up the whole flight.”

From off-screen, Robby piped up, “Is that why you fell asleep on my shoulder in the first five minutes of the drive?” 

“Aww, is that true?” you cooed, and Jack immediately frowned, shaking his head. “Liar,” you accused with a knowing smile, before asking, “Are you close?”

“To your place?” You nodded. “I was gonna head home first, shower, sleep for a bit – ”

You were already shaking your head, correcting him, “No. You’re coming here first; not allowed to shower before you see me.”

Robby snorted, and Jack sighed in that over-it-but-not-really way before turning to his friend. “Can you drop me off at hers?” 

“Kinda already assumed,” Robby said, tapping the GPS. “Route’s set to her address.”

“How much longer?” you asked Robby, bouncing on your heels with impatient energy.

“Twenty-three minutes.”

You groaned, tugging off your apron. The clock on the wall ticked slowly, teasingly. “Can you be here already?” you whined at Jack, then paused as a mischievous glint sparked behind your eyes. “I’m ovulating and miss you being in my – ”

“Ohhhkay,” Robby cut in, clearly scarred and making your grin widen. Jack’s mouth twitched.

“I was going to say ‘arms.’ Sheesh, Jack, what kind of freaks do you work with?” you teased, grin widening as Jack broke into a full smile and aimed the camera at Robby, who groaned in defeat. 

“You’re gonna get me kicked out of this car, trouble,” Jack said, warmth bleeding into his voice at the nickname. Your chest squeezed, missing him.

Eleni walked into the office a moment later, waving at the screen. “Hey, Eleni,” Jack greeted.

“Hey,” she said, squinting. “Was that groaning I heard just now? You guys doing phone sex again or just emotionally scarring Robby?” 

“For the record, those things are not mutually exclusive,” Robby chimed in.

Eleni grinned, turning to you. “You heading out now?” 

You nodded. “Unless there’s something else – ”

She was already shaking her head. “Go. Get out of here. You’ve already cleaned the walk-in twice just waiting for Jack to land.” 

Jack perked up at that. “Aww, is that true?” he mocked, using your tone from earlier.

You glared at him, but before you could deny it, Eleni added, “She reorganized the grain bins, too!”

You were already grabbing your keys as Eleni ushered you toward the door. “Okay, I’ll see you when you get here,” you said to Jack. 

In a rare moment of vulnerability, he puckered his lips and blew you a kiss goodbye. You flushed, heart stuttering. 

“You’re getting soft on me, Abbot,” you teased.

“Pretty sure we’re way past that.”

The drive home was a blur; you could barely keep your concentration. Every red light felt like the universe was plotting against you; every slow pedestrian crossing the street made you want to scream. 

Your heart was hammering in your ears. You didn’t even remember pulling into the driveway, adrenaline surging. But the moment you caught sight of the front door – 

There he was.

Jack.

Standing at your front door in that familiar black tee, suitcase sitting on the porch as he fumbled with the spare key you’d given him. He was so focused on unlocking the door, he didn’t even hear your footsteps approaching.

“You know, for someone who saves lives for a living,” you called out, approaching him, “you’re really struggling with the concept of a lock.” 

Jack froze, then turned.

And then, a slow-spreading, lopsided smile that had lived on your phone screen for far too long was finally gracing you in person. 

“Well, maybe if someone didn’t have ten million locks on the door, we wouldn’t be in this situation,” he said, voice lower than usual, rougher in a way that made your stomach flip.

You crossed the distance in three strides. The key clattered onto his luggage as he let it fall.

And then you were in his arms. 

Not the thought of him. Not his voice through a screen. Not his pixelated smile or sleepy texts or pictures of his takeout. Him. Warm and solid and real.

His arms wrapped so tightly around you, it felt like he wouldn’t ever let go. And you didn’t want him to. You buried your face in his chest, breathing him in. 

“I forgot how good you smell,” you mumbled into his shirt. “Like middle seat and recycled plane air.” 

He tugged playfully at your ear, leaning back just enough for you to get a good look at him. Sun-kissed skin. Slight scruff that made your fingertips itch to trace it.

“You got more handsome. That’s annoying.” 

He raised a brow. “You’re only saying that because you’re ovulating.” 

“No,” you promised. “If I did, I would’ve already dragged you inside and ripped your clothes off – ”

He kissed you mid-sentence. Not hurried. Not desperate. Just… steady. Like he had all the time in the world, because now, he did.

When you finally pulled back, breath short, he rested his forehead against yours. “Missed you,” you said softly.

“Yeah,” he whispered, almost like it hurt. “Me too.” 

You leaned into him again, arms tightening, greedy now that you finally could be. “You’re never leaving again, right?” 

He chuckled, voice cracking just a little. “You going to chain me to the radiator?” 

You shrugged. “Tempting. I do own zip ties.” 

His laugh was full, unguarded, the sound of it seeping into your skin like sunlight. “Why don’t we save those for the bedroom, huh?” 

He leaned down again to kiss your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your mouth. And then he whispered, “Let’s go inside.” 

But neither of you moved. Not yet.

You’d waited this long.

What was one more minute in each other’s arms?

[666thtoolofhell]

santos creates a new group chat, names it ⛔👑💊⛔ and proceeds to send dozens of innocent looking pics she snaps of kingdon together, in various situations, always with the caption: “langdon who is going to be divorced (in...?)” and several ellipsis come to life as everyone types back with a random timeframe.

it starts a trend. the others follow santos’ lead and start doing the same, playing private eye whenever the flow is calm. it's harmless fun. in the beginning, it's just a joke. really, it is. after a while, it's still a joke. mostly. but then... then langdon actually does separate from his wife. and, eventually, does get divorced. and then dana gets added to the group chat - no one comes clean, but santos is suspecting perlah, and she's known to have a nose for this shit. and that's when the bets start for real.

collins isn't in the group chat - she rejects the invite - but gets regular updates from dana. the pic saga continues, but the default caption changes to: “langdon who is going to remarry.” robby is blissfully unaware of the group chat but he's also been the live slug reaction meme personified the whole time, so there's that.

📱 garcia once sends a screen recording of langdon's phone - that she presumably sent herself first - of his home screen/lock screen that pans from his kids and dog to mel at a park;

🧋 shen once catches them at this new coffee shop downtown, mid bickering, as an annoying langdon attempts to get an annoyed mel to try something other than her usual order;

🎥 mckay goes to the movies with her dad and harrison one fine evening just to see them with mel's sister becca buying tickets and popcorn;

🌙 mohan once forwards what looks suspiciously like a surveillance type of photo abbot sent her of the two of them on the hospital rooftop, at night, gazing at the stars, shoulder to shoulder;

🩺 whitaker once sends a series of hurried blurry shots of them smiling stupidly at eachother as they jog around, in and out of patient rooms during a slower shift;

👀 javadi, as usual, forgets to turn on the flash, so no one really understands the intricacies of the ritual, but they're standing supremely and unnecessarily close as they talk while maintaining intense eye contact;

🧥 donnie clocks them whip quick at the ambulance bay this one time when langdon is insisting on giving mel his jacket because it got cold and she left hers inside her locker and there's no time to go get it before the patient arrives, mel!

🍮 jesse gets a good one of them at the cafeteria around lunch time, eating spoonfuls out if the same pudding cup in the background, with ellis front and center hooking a thumb over her shoulder at them with a knowing smirk;

💤 princess finds them in the break room after a rush, sitting on the couch, sharing ear buds, langdon's head on mel's shoulder, and mel staring at him as he slept instead of at her opened lava lamp app;

🚗 perlah once discreetly records scant seconds of them leaving together in langdon's car at the end of a shift from hell, langdon carrying mel's things and opening the door for her to groggily climb in, then turning the phone to get her own deadpan expression on camera;

🖥️ dana doesn't take any pictures because she's too busy being in charge of both the betting poll, the official excel file with all the pertinent names, dates, and amounts, as well as the photo album they're going to print and gift them with at the wedding, whenever the hell that ends up being.

[joelsrose]

i’d absolutely love to see your take on a jackson era *SPOILER* (not dead obviously) joel who meets a new comer who’s harsher and more close off than him and only wants to use him for sex and he ends up falling first??🙏🏼🫶🏻 i adore your writing and also can’t wait for more TIP, G&R, and FD 🫶🏻🫶🏻

ok this prompt seriously did something for me and i went feral - enjoy (warnings smut/feelings - both equally as dangerous) thank you so much for your request ! i need the inspo sometimes so feel free to message me in my inbox with more requests xx

also update tangled in paradise hppefully out in the next DAY

all my work (though this needs updating)

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

The lukewarm air clung to your skin as you sat at the bar in the Tipsy Bison, a glass in hand, the bitter burn of the whiskey still fresh on your tongue. It was a disgusting kind of heat, the kind that stuck to you and made you wish for a shower—or another drink. It was late, later than you usually stayed out, and the bar was sparsely populated, just a few regulars nursing their usuals in the dim light.

You flagged down the bartender, your fingers drumming lightly against the counter. "Another," you said, meeting their eye. They nodded, reaching for the bottle.

Your gaze drifted as you waited, lazily scanning the room. That’s when you saw him.

A man sat at the far end of the bar, hunched over a glass of whiskey, his posture heavy. He looked older, maybe early fifties, his face etched with lines that spoke of a hard life, not just years. His dark hair was streaked with silver, the strands curling slightly at the ends, and a thick, scruffy beard framed a scowl that seemed permanently etched into his features. His eyes were sharp, though, hidden beneath furrowed brows as he stared at the bottle behind the bar like it held all the answers.

Your brow arched in curiosity. You didn’t recognize him exactly, but he looked familiar—someone you’d seen in passing. Without overthinking it, you slid off your stool and moved down the bar, settling yourself in the seat next to his. He didn’t look at you, didn’t even acknowledge your presence. But that didn’t stop you from giving him a once-over, shamelessly.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice low and gruff, still not turning to meet your gaze.

You chuckled, leaning back slightly. “Do I know you?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Doubt it,” he sighed.

“Oh,” you said, letting the word hang in the air. “You’re Tommy’s brother, right?”

He sighed again, the kind of exhale that sounded more like an admission. “That’s me.”

You smirked, lifting the fresh shot the bartender had set down in front of you. “Hotter than your brother, though,” you said before downing it in one smooth motion, the whiskey burning all the way down.

That got his attention. His head turned, and he finally looked at you—dark eyes narrowing slightly, lips parting as if to say something but stopping short. He looked genuinely taken aback, like no one had ever said something like that to him before. “The fuck are you talkin’ about?” he asked, his tone more stunned than angry.

You shrugged, giving him an unabashed once-over again. “I’m just sayin’. You’re good-looking,” you repeated, meeting his gaze directly.

He scoffed, a rough sound that came from deep in his chest. “Look, lady,” he said, shaking his head, “I’m way past relationships, so I suggest you just walk away.”

“Who said anything about relationships?” you replied, your tone light and teasing.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

The room was bathed in the dim glow of a bedside lamp, shadows dancing against the walls as the dresser rattled softly with the force of his movements. Joel had you pinned there, caged in by his arms, his chest pressed against your back as if daring you to pull away—not that you wanted to. His breath was hot against your ear, low grunts and growls spilling out as he moved with deliberate, unrelenting intensity.

Your clothes were still on, mostly. His jeans were tugged down just enough, your own pulled halfway down your thighs, bunched awkwardly as you clutched the edge of the dresser, trying to anchor yourself against the tidal wave building inside you.

“Joel,” you gasped, your head falling back against his shoulder as your grip tightened on the wood. “I’m—God, I’m gonna—”

“Fuckin’ take it,” he growled, his voice thick and ragged, one hand gripping your hip so tightly you were sure it’d leave marks. “You’re right there. C’mon.”

The sensation overwhelmed you, and with a strangled cry, your body broke apart. “Joel!” you screamed, your nails raking against his forearm as you bucked beneath him, the dresser creaking in protest.

Joel groaned deeply, pulling out just in time, his breath heavy and labored. He finished on his hand with a grunt, his forehead dropping briefly to your shoulder as he let out a long sigh, the tension draining from his body.

You both stood there for a moment, chests heaving, the room filled with nothing but the sound of your breathing and the faint rustle of clothing as he stepped back, adjusting himself.

“Damn,” he muttered, his voice still rough as he wiped his hand clean with a nearby rag, tossing it aside like it meant nothing, “You all right?”

You leaned against the dresser, still catching your breath, your legs shaking slightly as you straightened up and fixed your clothes. “I think so,” you said with a wry chuckle, running a hand through your hair. “Well… that escalated.”

Joel just shrugged, his eyes sweeping over you before he grabbed his belt, threading it back through the loops with practiced ease. “Yeah, well,” he said gruffly, his tone casual, though there was a flicker of something deeper in his gaze. “Guess we’re doin’ this now.”

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

It had been a few months now, and the routine had settled into something both comfortable and volatile. It was almost always the same—you’d show up at Joel’s door late at night, the moon high and the town quiet. He’d answer in a wrinkled shirt and tousled hair, his face carved with irritation that didn’t quite mask the way his gaze swept over your form.

“Seriously?” he’d mutter as you stepped past him, already kicking off your boots and shimmying out of your jeans in the doorway.

“You’re too horny for your own good,” he’d grumble, his brow furrowing in that way that somehow made him look even more rugged.

“No rest for the wicked,” you’d shoot back with a sly grin, already dashing upstairs, leaving him standing there shaking his head and muttering under his breath.

Joel always followed, though. No matter how much he sighed or rolled his eyes, he’d climb the stairs after you, his heavy footfalls a sound you’d grown to expect. By the time he found you, sprawled out and ready, he was already hard, already resigned to the fact that you weren’t going to leave him in peace.

It wasn’t soft, not with Joel. It was rough hands, bitten-off curses, and bruising grips that left reminders on your skin. You’d both cum, panting and wrecked, and then you’d slip out of his bed and pull your clothes back on like it was nothing.

At first, you’d knock when you came over, but after too many nights of him stumbling half-asleep to the door, he’d shoved a key into your hand. “Sick of you bangin’ on my door at all hours,” he’d grunted, and you’d just laughed, pocketing it without a second thought.

It worked for you—this arrangement. Whenever the day had been too hard, when your fingers weren’t cutting it and the frustration bubbled over, Joel was there. He was steady, dependable in his own gruff way. But there were rules, even if they weren’t spoken out loud. You never kissed. It just wasn’t part of the deal.

Instead, you’d press your lips to his collarbone, to the patch of skin where his pulse thrummed, tasting salt and sweat. He didn’t complain, but he didn’t ask for more, either. Maybe that’s why it worked—you didn’t ask for more, either.

Tonight had been no different. Joel had pulled you apart, his hands gripping your thighs as he thrust into you, his breath hot against your neck as you came for the second time. You were still catching your breath when you rolled off him, reaching for your shirt and pulling it over your head.

“It’s cold,” he muttered, his voice low and gravelly as he sat up. “You could just ... spend the night.”

The words were casual, thrown out like they didn’t mean anything. But they did. Joel didn’t offer people to stay. Joel didn’t let people in. And yet, here he was, offering you the kind of closeness he didn’t give anyone else.

“Nah,” you said breezily, oblivious to the weight of what he’d just said. You zipped up your jeans, running a hand through your hair as you glanced at him. “Got patrol early. You know how it is.”

Joel nodded stiffly, his face giving nothing away, though his eyes lingered on you as you grabbed your jacket. “Yeah,” he said, the word rough and clipped. “Sure.”

You slung your bag over your shoulder, giving him a small smile. “Anyway,” you said, already moving toward the door, “see you when I see you.”

He swallowed hard as he watched you leave, the door clicking shut behind you. For a long moment, he sat there, staring at the empty space you’d left behind. Joel didn’t have the words to explain it, not even to himself. He didn’t want to need this, didn’t want to need you. But he did.

And as much as he hated to admit it, he hated even more that he wished you’d stayed.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

The kitchen was dim, the faint hum of the fridge the only sound besides your heavy breathing and the occasional low groan from Joel as he worked between your thighs.

You were spread out on the countertop, your patrol gear still half on, boots kicked off somewhere by the door. The ache from hours on horseback had burned away, replaced with a sharper, hotter need that only Joel could satisfy.

You’d barely stumbled in, desperate, and Joel had opened the door with a gruff sigh, already knowing what you wanted before you even spoke. "Needy as hell," he muttered, but his hands had been on you in seconds, pulling you inside, settling you on the counter like it was second nature.

And now? Now, his tongue moved against you with an unrelenting, agonizing precision. You moaned, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling just enough to make him grunt in response. His beard scraped deliciously against your thighs, grounding you in the moment as the coil in your belly tightened with every flick of his tongue.

"Fuck, Joel," you groaned, your voice rough and breathless as he dragged another moan from you. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place like you might dare to squirm away. This wasn’t like usual. Normally, Joel was fast, efficient—out and over. He didn’t linger. But tonight? Tonight, he was taking his damn time, his lips and tongue teasing you, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge until you thought you might lose your mind.

“Yeah, darlin’?” he hummed against your core, his voice low and gravelly, the vibration making you arch off the countertop. He looked up briefly, his dark eyes hooded, lips slick and glistening as he smirked. “What’s that? You need somethin’?”

“Joel,” you gasped, your head falling back as his tongue flicked over your clit again, slow and deliberate. Your chest heaved as your nails dug into his scalp, desperate for something to hold onto. “I—shit—I’ve got a shift in ten minutes.”

“Then you’d better hurry up,” he rasped against you, his breath warm against your sensitive skin. But he didn’t hurry. No, if anything, he slowed down, his tongue tracing deliberate, lazy circles that made your breath hitch and your thighs tremble.

“You’re—” you gasped, biting down on your lip as he sucked gently on your clit, “you’re taking too long.”

Joel chuckled low in his throat, the sound dark and teasing as he kissed along the inside of your thigh, his stubble scratching against the tender skin. “Ain’t my fault you came in here all wound up,” he said, his tone gruff but laced with something softer, something dangerous that he wasn’t saying. “Maybe you should learn some patience.”

“Patience?” you nearly whined, your voice cracking as his tongue returned to your clit, working you over with a precision that made your toes curl. “Oh, fuck, Joel—”

He didn’t respond this time, just groaned softly against you, his grip tightening on your hips as he brought you to the brink. You shattered with a loud cry, your thighs trembling around his head as waves of pleasure crashed over you, leaving you breathless and boneless on the countertop.

Joel pulled back slowly, his lips glistening as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes locked on yours. “There,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, like gravel underfoot. “That’s better.”

You were still catching your breath, your chest rising and falling as you pulled your pants up. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, though there was no heat in your words.

Joel just smirked, stepping back to let you slide off the counter. “Better get goin’, then,” he said, his voice casual, but his eyes lingered on you like he didn’t want you to leave.

And as you grabbed your boots and headed out the door, Joel stood there in the kitchen, his hands braced on the counter where you’d been moments ago, hating the way he already missed you.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Joel’s birthdays weren’t something he talked about. Hell, you were pretty sure he hated the day entirely. No celebrations, no well wishes—just another date on the calendar he could ignore. But when you knocked on his door that afternoon, a half-smushed cupcake clutched in your hand, you decided you didn’t care much for his rules.

You knocked again, shifting on your feet. The air was cool, a sharp contrast to the warmth you’d stolen earlier in the kitchen as you snuck eggs to make the damn thing. It wasn’t pretty, but it was something.

Finally, the door creaked open, revealing Joel in his usual worn flannel and jeans. His brows lifted slightly when he saw you, the corners of his mouth twitching in what almost passed for a smile. “Hey,” he said, stepping back to let you in. “Come on in.”

You slid past him, your boots clunking softly against the wood floor as he shut the door behind you. His place was as it always was—quiet, a little too clean, with that faint woodsy smell that clung to everything Joel owned. He turned to you, jerking his head toward the couch. “You wanna do it here, or… head upstairs?” His voice was gruff, casual, like it didn’t matter much either way.

You snorted, crossing your arms as you arched a brow at him. “You make me sound like a sex addict, Joel.”

His brow furrowed, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as if to say, Aren’t you, though?

You rolled your eyes, pulling the slightly battered cupcake from behind your back. “Actually,” you began, your tone teasing as you held it out to him, “I’m here because it’s someone’s birthday.”

Joel’s expression froze for a moment, his eyes flicking to the cupcake and then back to you. “The hell’s this?” he asked, his voice softer now, tinged with something you couldn’t quite place.

“It’s a cupcake,” you said, grinning as you waved it in front of him. “Took some serious effort, too. You know how hard it is to get eggs without pissing everyone off?”

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he took the cupcake from your hands, his calloused fingers brushing yours for just a moment. “You steal eggs for this?”

"Hey," you teased, "I baked for you. That’s a luxury, you know—not all my conquests get this kind of treatment."

Joel huffed a laugh, shaking his head as he leaned against the counter. “Conquests?” he repeated, his voice thick with amusement. “You’re fuckin’ ridiculous.”

“Seriously, though,” you said, stepping closer, “Happy birthday, Miller.”

“Thanks,” he muttered. He looked at it for a moment before letting out a low sigh. “Another fuckin’ year older.”

You smirked, walking towards the couch, “Don’t worry,” you said with a wink, “The machinery still works, right?”

Joel barked out a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” you shot back, your grin widening as you plopped down onto his couch, making yourself comfortable. “So,” you started, glancing over at him, “any big plans for your big day?”

Joel followed, lowering himself onto the couch with a groan, his body settling heavily into the worn cushions. “No,” he said, running a hand through his messy hair, his fingers raking through the dark strands streaked with silver. “Not really my thing.”

You tilted your head, watching him for a moment. He looked tired, more so than usual, the lines around his eyes deeper, his shoulders heavier. Birthdays weren’t just something Joel ignored—they were something he carried, quietly, like an old wound he didn’t let anyone see.

“Guess that’s why I’m here,” you said lightly, breaking the silence. “Can’t let you sit around brooding all night, now, can I?”

Joel glanced at you, his dark eyes narrowing slightly, though there was a hint of something softer there, too. “You do that a lot? Rescue lonely old men on their birthdays?”

You grinned, leaning back against the cushions. “Only the ones who can still get it up.”

That got another chuckle out of him, the sound low and rough, like gravel underfoot. He shook his head, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, the cupcake still untouched in his hands.

For a moment, you both sat in silence, the faint hum of the fridge filling the room. It was comfortable, easy, the kind of quiet that felt rare in a world that was always teetering on the edge of chaos.

“So really, no plans?” you asked, edging closer to him on the couch, feigning innocence as you tucked one leg beneath you.

“Nah,” he muttered, his eyes darting away from yours. But he wasn’t fast enough for you to miss the way his jeans were beginning to strain, the fabric tightening over his thighs.

Your gaze dropped to his lap, catching the telltale tension in his jeans as they began to tighten. A smirk tugged at the corners of your lips. “Well,” you began, your hand finding its way to his thigh, your fingers brushing just a little too close to where you knew he was already hard. “I think I could give you a birthday present you might actually enjoy, Miller.”

His laugh was low, almost reluctant, but you saw the faintest twitch of a smile on his lips. “And you deny bein’ a sex addict,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm.

“Hey,” you shot back, your grin widening as your hand slid just a little higher, your fingers brushing the seam of his jeans. “I’m not the one who’s about to cum in their pants.” You tilted your head, nodding toward the very obvious bulge straining against the zipper.

“It’s a fuckin’ Pavlovian response,” he said, chuckling under his breath, though his voice was strained. “You walk through that door, and my body just knows what’s comin’.”

“Doesn’t sound like you’re complaining,” you replied, your voice dropping lower as you slid off the couch, sinking to your knees between his legs.

“Fuck,” Joel muttered, his voice tight as he glanced down at you, his eyes dark and hooded. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

“C’mon, birthday boy,” you teased, your fingers trailing up his thigh as you grinned up at him. “I’ll let you cum in my mouth—just this once,” you added with a wink, your nails scraping lightly against the inside of his leg.

Joel huffed out a laugh, though it came out more like a groan as his hips shifted toward you instinctively. “You always let me do that,” he muttered, his tone gruff as his hands moved to his belt, undoing it with practiced ease.

“Yeah, well,” you said, your voice softening as you tugged his jeans and boxers down in one smooth motion, freeing him. “Consider it my gift to you.”

Joel let out a low curse, his head falling back again as you leaned in, your hand wrapping around him as you pressed a soft, teasing kiss to the tip. He was already throbbing, his body betraying the control he usually clung to so tightly.

As you worked him with your hands and mouth, Joel groaned, his fingers tangling in your hair. His usual gruff demeanor was slipping, replaced with raw, unguarded need, and you couldn’t help but smirk around him.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he muttered, his voice rough as his hips bucked slightly. “You’re too good at this.”

“Maybe,” you teased, pulling back just enough to glance up at him, your eyes meeting his. “But I think you’re enjoying it.”

Joel swallowed hard, his jaw clenched as he looked down at you, his dark eyes clouded with something you couldn’t quite place. “Yeah,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “Too much.”

His head tipped back against the couch with a groan, his hand tightening in your hair. “Fuck,” he murmured, his voice gravelly and raw. “Just like that, baby. Just like that.”

You didn’t stop, your head moving in a steady rhythm, his quiet curses spurring you on. Your tongue worked him perfectly, coaxing those low, guttural noises from deep in his chest. His hips shifted slightly, a tension in his thighs that told you he was close, and you couldn’t help but smirk.

Pulling back for just a moment, you let a string of saliva trail from his tip to your lips, your breath hitching as you whispered, “Use my mouth.”

Joel’s head snapped forward at your words, his eyes locking onto yours with a heat that sent a shiver down your spine. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice hoarse as his hand slid from your hair to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Alright. You sure about this?”

You nodded, your lips parting slightly as you gave him a wicked grin. “Positive.”

He didn’t waste any more time. His hand found its way back to your hair, his grip firm but careful as he guided you back to him. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice rough as gravel as you took him again, deeper this time, his hips rolling forward just enough to test your limits.

The sound he made was low and guttural, almost a growl, as he watched you, his free hand gripping the edge of the couch so tightly his knuckles went white. “Jesus,” he muttered, his voice breaking as your hands gripped his thighs for balance, your movements eager and unrelenting. “You’re… fuckin’ perfect.”

The tension in the room was electric, every noise, every breath amplifying the heat between you. Joel’s composure was unraveling, his usual stoic demeanor cracking as he gave in to you completely. And for a fleeting moment, as his fingers brushed against your cheek in a surprisingly tender gesture, you wondered if there was something more to the way he looked at you—something deeper.

But before the thought could settle, Joel groaned your name, the sound low and guttural, reverberating through the quiet room. His hips stuttered, his control slipping as he came, his hand tightening in your hair, his breaths ragged and uneven. You didn’t hesitate, swallowing every drop, the heat of him lingering on your tongue as you pulled back, licking your lips with a slow, deliberate motion that made his chest rise and fall even harder.

“Damn,” he muttered, his voice still thick with desire as he glanced down at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You’re gonna kill me one of these days.”

You grinned, wiping your lips with the back of your hand as you pushed yourself up. “Wouldn’t want you going soft on me, Miller.”

“Fuck,” Joel groaned, running a hand through his hair as he stood, his other hand reaching for yours. “Let’s go upstairs,” he muttered, his voice rough but full of purpose. His cock brushed against his abdomen with each step, and the sight of him—disheveled, flushed, and fully undone—was enough to make your stomach flip.

You laughed, letting him guide you up the stairs. “I think I’ve corrupted you, Miller,” you teased, your voice laced with playful smugness.

Joel glanced over his shoulder, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. “Get on the bed,” he ordered, his tone firm but not harsh, sending a jolt of heat straight through you.

“Yes, sir,” you replied with a laugh, already peeling off your shirt as you stepped into the bedroom. But just as your fingers reached for the waistband of your pants, Joel’s hand caught yours, stopping you mid-motion.

“Slow,” he murmured, his voice low and almost tender, a stark contrast to the usual roughness. His eyes softened as he looked at you, his calloused thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Slow this time.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. “Okay,” you said softly, nodding as you let your hands fall to your sides. His gaze lingered on you, searching, as if making sure you understood.

He took his time, his rough palms brushing against your skin as he worked your clothes off piece by piece, his eyes tracing every inch of you like he was memorizing it.

You felt bare—not just physically, but in a way that made your chest tighten. This wasn’t the hurried, primal need you were used to with Joel. This was different, heavier, as if he was letting you see a part of himself he usually kept locked away.

“Lie down,” Joel said, his voice soft but laced with that commanding edge that always made your stomach twist. You obeyed without hesitation, settling onto the bed as he climbed in after you, his weight dipping the mattress. He hovered over you, his hands braced on either side of your head, his dark eyes locking onto yours like he could see straight through you.

You bit your lip as you watched him, the room’s dim light catching the silver streaks in his hair. There was something in the way he looked at you tonight—something heavier, more deliberate, that made your pulse race. His hand moved slowly, his fingers brushing against your inner thigh, trailing higher until they found your core.

A sharp inhale escaped your lips, your hips hitching instinctively as his thumb pressed against you, teasing through the fabric. Joel’s eyes darkened, his brows furrowing slightly as if he was studying your reaction.

“You’re wet,” he murmured, his voice low and almost a growl, the words spoken as if they were a simple fact.

“Kinda what happens,” you hummed, your voice trembling as his lips brushed against your neck, leaving a trail of slow, deliberate kisses that made your skin burn.

But Joel didn’t stop. His thumb pressed firmer now, dragging a quiet moan from you as he spoke again, his words rough and laced with something possessive. “You’re wet,” he repeated, his lips grazing your ear, “for me.”

The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine, his voice curling around you like smoke, intoxicating and dangerous. His hand moved against you with a confidence that left no room for doubt, coaxing your body into responding to his every touch.

“Joel,” you whispered, your voice catching as his mouth found the hollow of your throat, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you gasp.

“Say it,” he murmured, his voice low and insistent as his hand slipped beneath your underwear, his fingers sliding through your slick heat. “Tell me you’re wet for me.”

Your head tilted back against the pillow, your breath hitching as your hands gripped his shoulders. “I am,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m wet for you.”

“Damn right you are,” Joel muttered, his lips pressing against your jaw as his fingers moved with agonizing precision. There was no teasing now, no pretense—just Joel, gruff and unrelenting, pulling you apart like he owned you.

You swallowed hard, your voice trembling as you looked up at him. “Fuck, I need your cock,” you said, your words raw and unfiltered.

Joel raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into the faintest of smirks. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly, the kind that sent shivers down your spine.

You nodded, biting your lip as he guided you, his hands firm yet careful, positioning you on your knees. He knew your favorite by now—doggy, fast and dirty, the kind of sex that didn’t leave room for intimacy, just raw need. But tonight, as he moved behind you, you reached back, stopping him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his brow furrowing as he looked at you, his hands lingering at your waist.

You turned to face him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It’s your birthday,” you said softly, your voice lighter now, teasing but warm. “We’ll do it the way you like.”

Joel froze for a moment, his eyes scanning your face, searching for something. He didn’t say anything, but the shift in his expression was unmistakable—a flicker of vulnerability, quickly masked by his usual stoicism.

He didn’t ask how you knew. Joel might not have been one to talk, but you’d paid attention. You knew he always came quicker during missionary, the way he liked being able to see your face when you fell apart beneath him. You knew how he’d hitch your leg over his hip, how he liked the way it let him sink deeper.

You leaned back onto the bed, your fingers trailing along his forearm as you tugged him toward you. “C’mon, birthday boy,” you said, your voice softer now, the teasing edge replaced with something gentler. “Let me give you what you want.”

Joel’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his eyes darkening as he climbed onto the bed, settling between your legs. He didn’t speak, but his hands said enough—the way they skimmed over your thighs, up your sides, lingering at your hips as if grounding himself.

He pushed into you slowly, achingly slow, his forehead still pressed to yours as he sank in fully. The stretch burned, but it was the kind of burn you craved, the kind that made your toes curl and your breath hitch. Joel groaned low in his throat, his grip on your thigh tightening as he began to move, his hips rolling into you with deliberate precision.

“Look at me,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, and you obeyed, your eyes locking onto his. It was too much—his gaze, the way his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your flushed skin as he moved inside you. This wasn’t just sex anymore, not tonight.

“Fuck,” Joel muttered, his voice breaking as your nails raked lightly over his back. “You feel so damn good.”

“So do you,” you gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders as he hit that spot that made you see stars. “Joel—”

"Yeah, baby," Joel murmured, his voice rough and low as his forehead fell to your shoulder. His thrusts quickened, his hips snapping against yours in a way that made your whole body arch. “I got you,” he breathed, his words sending shivers down your spine.

“Fuck,” you groaned, your voice breaking as he pushed even deeper. “I feel you so deep,” you gasped, your fingers clawing at his back. The weight of him, the heat, the stretch—it was overwhelming in the best way.

Joel’s lips brushed against your neck, the coarse scrape of his beard a contrast to the softness of his mouth. He kissed you there, slow and deliberate, as though savoring the taste of your skin. But then, his kisses began to inch upward, moving with purpose—along the column of your neck, over your jaw, each one sending a ripple of heat through you.

You moaned, your hands gripping his shoulders as his lips lingered just below your chin. His pace quickened, his thrusts deeper, harder, but his kisses softer, more purposeful, like he was memorizing every inch of you.

“Joel,” you gasped, your voice trembling as his lips hovered dangerously close to yours. Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his dark, hooded gaze for a fleeting moment before they slipped shut again as he thrust into you with enough force to steal your breath.

He caught your wrists suddenly, pinning your hands above your head with one large, calloused hand, his grip firm but not harsh. The other hand slid under your thigh, hitching it higher to deepen the angle. “Let me,” he murmured, his voice raw and laced with something you hadn’t heard before—something close to desperation.

“Joel,” you warned, your voice trembling as his lips ghosted over yours, his breath hot and uneven against your mouth.

“Please,” he whispered, the single word heavy, his tone stripped of all its usual gruffness. And before you could respond, his lips met yours in a kiss so fervent, so unrestrained, that it stole every thought from your mind.

It wasn’t soft—it was passionate, consuming, like he’d been holding back for far too long. His mouth claimed yours, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that matched the way his body moved inside you. His tongue swept against yours, his grip on your wrists tightening as if to keep you grounded.

The kiss made everything shift, the weight of it hitting you like a wave. Joel wasn’t just fucking you anymore—he was with you, every touch, every movement speaking to something he couldn’t quite say out loud. His hips snapped harder now, his groans muffled against your lips as he swallowed every sound you made as you both finally came in perfect unison.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours as you both struggled to catch it. His dark eyes searched yours, his thumb brushing lightly over your wrist where he still held it above your head.

“Joel,” you whispered, your voice shaky, the weight of what had just happened pressing down on you.

But Joel didn’t say anything, not right away. Instead, he leaned down, capturing your lips in another kiss—softer this time, almost tender. His lips lingered on yours, like he was trying to memorize the feel of you, as if that kiss was meant to say what he couldn’t put into words. Whatever this was, it felt heavy, real, and it scared you more than you cared to admit.

You shifted, pulling away slightly to look at him. His face was uncharacteristically open, his usual guarded expression replaced with something raw, vulnerable. It was too much, too close, and you didn’t know what to say.

“Well,” you muttered, your voice breaking the silence as you pushed yourself up, your legs still shaky as you reached for your clothes. “I should probably go.”

Joel frowned, sitting up slightly, his bare chest glistening in the dim light as he watched you. “You’re leaving?” he asked, his voice gruff but tinged with something you didn’t expect—disappointment.

“Yeah,” you stammered, fumbling with your pants as you buttoned them. You avoided his gaze, focusing on the task at hand as you tried to come up with something, anything, to make this feel less... heavy. “I’ve, uh… I’ve got things to do,” you said finally, the excuse weak even to your own ears.

Joel leaned back against the headboard, his breathing still heavy, his eyes fixed on you as you moved around the room. He was silent for a long moment, and you felt the weight of his gaze like a physical thing, pressing down on you.

“You sure that’s why you’re leavin’?” he asked, his voice low but steady, his question cutting through the air like a knife.

You froze, your hands fumbling as you grabbed your jacket. You didn’t look at him, couldn’t look at him, because the way he was looking at you—like he was trying to figure you out, like he cared—was too much. “Yeah,” you said quickly, your voice flat. “That’s it.”

But Joel wasn’t stupid, and you knew he didn’t believe you. He let out a quiet sigh, his head tilting back against the headboard as he watched you, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re not built for this, are you?” he murmured, almost to himself.

You flinched, the words hitting closer to home than you wanted to admit. “Don’t make this something it’s not, Joel,” you said sharply, finally turning to face him. “It’s just sex.”

Joel’s jaw tightened, his gaze hardening as he studied you. “If that’s all it is,” he said, his voice rough, “then why are you runnin’?”

You didn’t have an answer for that—not one you were ready to admit, anyway. So instead, you pulled your jacket on, forcing a smile as you stepped toward the door. “See you around, Miller,” you said, your tone deliberately casual, as if the tension between you didn’t exist.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Joel’s words haunted you, replaying over and over in your head: “If that’s all it is, then why are you runnin’?”

It had been days since you’d last seen him, and you’d tried everything to shake him from your system. Your fingers weren’t enough, and humping your pillow only left you frustrated. Hell, you even considered finding someone else to fuck—someone who didn’t look at you the way Joel did, who didn’t make you feel like you were standing on the edge of something you didn’t know how to handle. But no matter what you did, deep down, you knew the truth: you didn’t just want someone. You needed him.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, glancing at the clock. It was past 1 a.m. Joel would be pissed—you knew that. But you didn’t care. The thought of another night without him was unbearable, and before you could overthink it, you were already out the door, making your way to his house.

The door creaked softly as you let yourself in, the weight of the key in your pocket feeling heavier than usual. You climbed the stairs quietly, the familiar scent of his house wrapping around you like a blanket. When you reached his room, the sight of him stopped you in your tracks.

Joel was fast asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily. The soft glow of moonlight streamed through the window, highlighting the silver in his hair, the lines on his face that seemed softer in sleep. For a moment, you hesitated, your resolve faltering as you watched him. He looked peaceful—something you rarely saw.

“Joel,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you stood at the edge of the bed. He didn’t stir. You tried again, a little louder this time. “Joel.”

He jolted awake with a start, his hand instinctively reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there. “Fucking hell,” he muttered, his voice thick with sleep as he squinted at you in the dim light. “You scared the shit outta me.” He reached over, flipping on the lamp. The warm light illuminated the room, his brow furrowed as he took you in.

“I could’ve shot you,” he grumbled, running a hand down his face as he sat up.

“Your gun’s downstairs,” you said simply, your tone light, though your heart was racing. You crossed your arms, standing awkwardly by the bed as he stared at you.

Joel’s eyes narrowed, his annoyance evident as he leaned back against the headboard. “The hell are you doin’ here? It’s one in the goddamn mornin’.”

You swallowed hard, your confidence wavering under his gaze. “I… I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

He raised an eyebrow, his expression softening just slightly as he watched you. “So you thought wakin’ me up was a good idea?”

You shrugged, your lips twitching into a faint smirk despite yourself. “You’re awake now, aren’t you?”

Joel let out a quiet huff, shaking his head as he looked at you. His expression was unreadable, but it didn’t matter.

You knew this dance—knew how to dissolve the tension in the way you always did. Slowly, you reached for the hem of your shirt, starting to pull it over your head.

This you knew how to do.

“Stop,” he said, his voice low but firm. He sighed, sitting up straighter in bed, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “Just… stop.”

Your hands froze mid-motion, the fabric falling back into place as you stared at him. “Oh,” you muttered, the word quiet as you smoothed your shirt back down. “Okay.”

Joel’s jaw clenched, his eyes fixed on the floor as he avoided your gaze. “I think… we should stop,” he said finally, his voice rough, like the words were being dragged out of him.

“Stop what?” you asked, your brow furrowing as a sharp sting of disappointment coursed through you.

“This,” he said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “What we’ve been doin’. I think it’s time to stop.”

Your chest tightened, the words hitting you harder than you’d expected. You masked it with a scoff, trying to brush it off like it didn’t matter. “You got a girlfriend or something now?” you joked, your voice light, but the edge of bitterness still slipped through.

Joel’s head snapped up at that, his dark eyes meeting yours for a moment before he quickly looked away again. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he shifted uncomfortably. “Maybe,” he muttered, his shoulders tensing.

It was a lie—you could see it clear as day. Joel wasn’t a good liar. Not to you.

“What?” you said, your brow furrowing deeper as you stared at him. “Since when?”

He shrugged, the motion stiff and unconvincing. “Couple weeks, maybe,” he said, still not meeting your eyes.

“Bullshit,” you snapped, crossing your arms as you tilted your head at him. “You can’t even look at me.”

Joel’s lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw working as he tried to find the right words. He couldn’t tell you the truth—that it wasn’t about some imaginary girlfriend. That it was about you. That somewhere along the line, he’d started to feel more than he should have, and it was tearing him apart.

“Does it matter?” he said finally, his voice gruff as he forced himself to look at you. “It’s not workin’. We shouldn’t have started this in the first place.”

You flinched at the harshness of his tone, the wall he was building between you suddenly feeling insurmountable. “Not working?” you echoed, your voice quieter now, the hurt bleeding into your words despite your best efforts to hide it. “What the hell does that even mean, Joel?”

“It means this is gonna hurt if it keeps goin’,” he said, his voice softening just enough to make it worse. “For both of us.”

You stared at him, your mind racing. This was Joel—gruff, unyielding, impossible Joel—and he was pulling away from you, shutting you out. And even though you’d told yourself this was just sex, that it didn’t matter, the ache in your chest told a different story.

“Fine,” you said finally, your voice sharp as you pushed yourself off the bed, grabbing your jacket. “If that’s how you feel, then fine.”

Joel didn’t stop you, didn’t say another word as you stormed out. But as the door clicked shut behind you, he let out a long, shaky breath, his head falling into his hands.

He’d lied to you—lied to protect himself, and maybe to protect you, too. But the truth was, Joel didn’t just like you. He’d fallen for you, hard and fast, and it scared him more than he wanted to admit.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

One week later

You found yourself at the Tipsy Bison, the familiar hum of muted conversations and the occasional clink of glasses filling the dimly lit bar. It was almost poetic, sitting here again, like the first time you met Joel. Except this time, the tension wasn’t playful—it was heavy, suffocating, and every sip of your drink did little to ease the weight in your chest.

The stool next to you creaked, and you didn’t need to look to know who it was. Joel sat down beside you, his presence unmistakable. He didn’t speak right away, just let the silence stretch before finally breaking it.

“Do I know you?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, throwing your own line back at you from that first night.

You turned your head to glare at him. “What do you want, Joel?” you asked, raising your glass to your lips and taking a long sip.

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the bar as he glanced sideways at you. “Haven’t seen you in a while,” he said, his tone casual, but his eyes betraying something deeper.

“Yeah, well,” you said, your voice sharp as you set your glass down with a clink. “You made it pretty clear you wanted nothing to do with me.”

“That’s not true,” he said quickly, shaking his head, his brows knitting together in frustration. “You know that’s not true.”

You let out a dry laugh, the sound bitter as you swirled the drink in your glass. “Right. So where’s your imaginary girlfriend?” you spat, the words laced with venom as you turned to face him fully.

Joel’s jaw tightened, his hand curling into a loose fist on the bar. “Don’t,” he said, his voice low, warning. He said your name, the sound of it rough and heavy, like it carried the weight of all the things he hadn’t said yet.

“What, Joel?” you snapped, your voice rising slightly, drawing the attention of a couple of nearby patrons. “You think you can just show up here and—what? Smooth everything over? You lied to me.”

His eyes narrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line as he leaned closer. “I didn’t lie,” he said firmly. “I—”

“You did!” you interrupted, your voice trembling now, your emotions spilling over in a way you couldn’t control. “You lied to me, Joel.”

“I lied because we had to stop,” he shot back, his voice rough, his words cutting through the air like a blade.

“Okay, well, you could’ve just said that,” you snapped, throwing your hands up in frustration. “Instead of pulling that bullshit about having some imaginary girlfriend.”

Joel’s shoulders sagged slightly, his jaw tightening as he rubbed a hand over his face. “I know,” he muttered, his voice quieter now, more subdued. “I fucked up.”

“Fuck,” you groaned, the word coming out like a frustrated exhale as you turned away for a moment, your hand gripping your glass tightly. “I thought you liked it.”

“Of course I liked it,” Joel said sharply, his voice rising slightly before he caught himself. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, his expression softened, his voice dipping lower. “You think I didn’t?”

“Then what?” you demanded, your voice raw as you turned back to him, searching his face for an answer that made sense. “Ever since your birthday, you’ve been weird. Was it the kiss? Joel, you chose to kiss me.”

“I know,” he murmured, his voice almost a sigh, his head dipping slightly as his shoulders hunched forward. “I know I did.”

“Then just tell me,” you pleaded, your voice cracking. “Is it me? Did I do something wrong?”

“It’s not you,” Joel said quickly, his voice firm as he looked up at you, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “It’s not you.”

“Then what is it?” you asked, your frustration giving way to something closer to hurt, your voice quieter now.

Joel let out a heavy sigh, his hand gripping the edge of the bar as he leaned forward, his shoulders tense. “I just… I can’t keep doin’ this,” he said finally, his voice low and gruff. “I can’t keep havin’ sex with you and actin’ like it ain’t somethin’ more.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and loaded, like a bomb waiting to go off. Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest as you stared at him, trying to process what he’d just said.

“Something more,” you repeated softly, almost to yourself.

Joel nodded, his jaw working as he looked down at his hands. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s somethin’ more. Least it is for me.”

The room seemed to tilt, the weight of his admission making it hard to breathe. You swallowed hard, your hands gripping the edge of the bar as you tried to steady yourself. “And you didn’t think to tell me that sooner?” you asked, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and something else—something closer to fear.

“I didn’t know how,” Joel admitted, his voice raw, like the words had been dragged out of him. “Hell, I didn’t even wanna admit it to myself. But I can’t keep doin’ this, can’t keep seein’ you and pretendin’ I don’t feel the way I do.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you felt like the ground had shifted beneath you. “I…” you stammered, searching for something to say, but your thoughts were a jumbled mess.

“Hey,” Joel cut in gently, his voice soft but firm. “This isn’t about me tellin’ you how I feel and expectin’ you to feel the same. I’m a big boy—I can handle it if you don’t.” His eyes flicked to yours, a faint, self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips. “It’s just that… it’ll be too hard if we keep goin’. Too hard for me.”

“Oh,” you murmured, swallowing hard as you tried to process his words, your fingers curling around the edge of the bar for support.

“Yeah,” he said, his gaze dropping to his hands as he rubbed the back of his neck. The awkwardness in the air was palpable, and yet there was something unbearably vulnerable about the way he sat there, shoulders hunched slightly, like he was bracing for a blow.

You took a shaky breath, willing yourself to find your voice. “I’ve never…” you began, hesitating as his gaze lifted to meet yours. The weight of his attention made it harder to get the words out, but you pushed forward. “I’ve never been in a relationship.”

Joel’s brow furrowed slightly, his lips parting in surprise. “Really?” he asked, his voice low and careful, as if he didn’t want to push too hard.

You nodded, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “Yeah,” you said, your voice quieter now. “I’ve never been… in love.” The words came out haltingly, the weight of them settling heavily between you. “So I don’t even know what that feels like,” you confessed, your eyes searching his, hoping he’d understand the vulnerability in your words.

Joel’s expression softened, his rough exterior giving way to something warmer, something almost gentle. “Alright,” he said, his voice low and steady, as if grounding you. “That’s okay. There ain’t no timeframe on that sorta thing. No rules sayin’ when it’s supposed to happen.”

You looked at him, the gruff man who so often felt impossible to pin down, who was usually the one keeping things at arm’s length. But here he was, sitting across from you, making space for something you didn’t know how to name. “How does it feel?” you asked suddenly, the words spilling out before you could stop them. Vulnerability cracked through your voice, a stark contrast to the version of yourself that usually tore his clothes off, always in control, always calling the shots.

Joel’s brow furrowed slightly as he sat back, his gaze thoughtful. “How does it feel?” he repeated, almost to himself. He ran a hand down his face, exhaling slowly before meeting your eyes again.

“It feels like someone you can’t stop thinkin’ about, no matter how much you try not to. Like every little thing they do sticks with you. The way they laugh, the way they look when they’re not payin’ attention…” He trailed off, his voice dropping lower, almost hesitant, as if revealing too much might make him unravel.

His jaw clenched briefly before he added, “It’s like missin’ someone even when they’re right next to ya.”

You swallowed hard, his words hitting you with a force you weren’t ready for. The realization struck fast and sharp—you felt that way for Joel. You had for a while now, but hearing him put it into words made it real, undeniable. Your throat tightened as you swallowed again, your hands gripping the edge of the bar as if it could steady you.

“It’s different for everyone,” Joel said with a shrug, his voice almost casual now, like he was trying to pull back from the weight of what he’d just shared. He sighed, his fingers drumming lightly on the bar. “You’re not upset, are you? I mean… I still want us to, you know, talk.”

“Talk?” you said, laughing softly despite the tightness in your chest. “Don’t know if we ever did a whole lot of that, Joel.”

He chuckled, the sound rough and low, but his eyes didn’t leave yours, like he was searching for something unspoken in your expression.

“Joel,” you said, your voice quieter now, more hesitant. You took a deep breath, your gaze dropping to the scuffed wood of the bar as you found the courage to speak. “There’s… one person I’ve felt like that for.”

Joel’s posture stiffened slightly, his brows furrowing as he tilted his head, his dark eyes watching you closely. “Oh,” he said, his voice careful, guarded.

You nodded, your fingers tracing invisible patterns on the bar’s surface. “I miss him when he’s not there,” you said softly, the words coming out like a confession. “And I feel like he… sees me, you know? Like really sees me, in a way no one else does.”

Joel swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his hand flexed against the bar. His gaze flickered, his usual stoic demeanor cracking slightly as he shifted in his seat.

“And…” you whispered, your voice barely audible now, the vulnerability in your words making them stick in your throat. “And I think he feels the same way about me.”

Joel’s breath hitched, his eyes locking onto yours, and for a moment, it felt like the whole world had stilled. His lips parted slightly, like he was about to say something, but the words didn’t come. Instead, his hand reached out, hesitating for only a moment before brushing lightly against yours where it rested on the bar.

“Is that right?” he murmured finally, his voice rough, his dark eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite name.

You nodded, your heart pounding as your fingers turned, brushing lightly against his. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice trembling, the weight of everything you were saying—and everything you weren’t—hanging in the air. “It is.”

“But…” you began, your voice faltering, “I think he thinks all I use him for is sex.”

Joel stiffened slightly, his hand pausing against yours as his jaw tightened. He looked away for a moment, his eyes darting to the scuffed wood of the bar as he exhaled slowly. “Do you?” he asked, his voice low and steady, but there was something vulnerable in the way he said it, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer.

Your chest tightened at the question, the weight of it pressing down on you. “No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “No, I don’t.”

Joel glanced back at you, his brow furrowed, his expression guarded but softening just enough to let you see the cracks in his armor. “Then why…?” he started, but he trailed off, like he couldn’t quite finish the sentence.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe it was easier that way. To pretend it was just physical. To not think about… everything else.”

Joel’s lips pressed into a thin line, his hand still resting over yours. “Everything else,” he repeated quietly, almost to himself.

You bit your lip, your fingers tightening slightly under his. “But it wasn’t, was it?” you asked softly, your voice trembling. “Not for you. Not for me.”

Joel’s breath hitched slightly, his eyes meeting yours again, and this time there was no hiding the emotion there. “No,” he said simply, his voice rough. “It wasn’t.”

For a moment, the silence between you was deafening, the weight of everything unsaid filling the space. And then Joel’s hand shifted, his fingers lacing through yours as he let out a soft sigh. “I thought… maybe that’s all you wanted,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “Didn’t think you wanted more.”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. “I didn’t know I did,” you said honestly, your eyes searching his. “Not until now.”

Joel nodded slowly, his thumb brushing over your hand in a gesture so tender it made your chest ache. “Well,” he said softly, his voice steady but laced with something that sounded like hope, “guess we got some figurin’ out to do, then.”

You bit your lip as you took him in, the tension between you crackling like a live wire. Even now, even with the weight of everything unsaid hanging heavy in the air, Joel turned you on in a way that made your stomach flip. Your panties were already damp, a low heat building that you couldn’t ignore, no matter how serious the conversation had been moments ago.

Joel’s eyes caught yours, and he sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I know that look,” he said, his voice low and rough, tinged with something that made your breath hitch. He knew you too well—the way your eyes grew hazy when you were needy, the way you bit your lip like you were barely holding yourself together.

You shook your head, feeling your cheeks heat under his steady gaze. “Can’t help it,” you said softly, almost shyly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Fuck,” Joel muttered under his breath, his jaw tightening as he looked at you. His dark eyes searched your face, his expression unreadable. “You mean it?” he asked finally, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “There’s… somethin’ there?”

“Yeah,” you said, your voice trembling as you nodded. “There’s something there.”

Joel stared at you for a moment, his shoulders rising and falling with a deep, steadying breath. “Fuck,” he said again, the word rough and full of meaning. He reached for your hand, his grip firm but gentle. “Let’s go home.”

A startled laugh escaped your lips, almost a squeal as the weight of the moment dissolved into an electric anticipation. You grabbed his hand, and together you practically ran out of the bar, your steps hurried, his long strides matching yours as you made your way through the quiet streets of Jackson.

The night air was cool, but your skin burned with the heat of what was about to happen. Every brush of his shoulder against yours, every glance he threw your way as you moved together, only stoked the fire. By the time you reached Joel’s front door, both of you were breathless, though not from the walk.

Joel fumbled with his keys for only a second before pushing the door open, and as soon as it clicked shut behind you, he turned, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak.

“This what you want?” he asked, his voice low, almost a growl as he stepped closer.

“Yeah,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the way your heart raced. “It’s what I want.”

Joel didn’t wait another second. His hands were on you, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was equal parts desperate and tender, the kind that made you feel like you were being seen, completely and utterly. And for the first time, it wasn’t just about the heat or the need—it was about something more, something that neither of you had the words for yet, but both of you could feel.

[koiukiy-o]

orphic; (adj.) mysterious and entrancing, beyond ordinary understanding. ─── 003. the framework.

-> summary: when you, a final-year student at the grove, get assigned to study under anaxagoras—one of the legendary seven sages—you know things are about to get interesting. but as the weeks go by, the line between correlation and causation starts to blur, and the more time you spend with professor anaxagoras, the more drawn to him you become in ways you never expected. the rules of the academy are clear, and the risks are an unfortunate possibility, but curiosity is a dangerous thing. and maybe, just maybe, some risks are worth taking. after all, isn’t every great discovery just a leap of faith? -> pairing: anaxa x gn!reader. -> tropes: professor x student, slow burn, forbidden romance. -> wc: 2.4k -> warnings: potential hsr spoilers from TB mission: "Light Slips the Gate, Shadow Greets the Throne" (3.1 update). main character is written to be 21+ years of age, at the very least. (anaxa is written to be around 26-27 years of age.) swearing, mature themes, suggestive content.

-> a/n: well well well... this took a long damn time. apologies, apologies, but the science had to be figured out. these two are absolute NERDS, i fear. oblivion is absolutely delicious on those who claim to possess and pursue the knowledge of the universe. i fear you will be suffering for a WHILE if youre not into the slow burn HAAHAHAH. also,, if you guys ever want to see the actual equations and notes i took to write some of the science for this chapter, i could post it as well,, hehe,, -> prev. || next. -> orphic; the masterlist.

Hushed voices, the occasional shuffle of papers, the muted hum of thought is all that fills the air in the library. You sit at your usual table, papers strewn before you. The assignment has consumed your thoughts since it was given to you—an open-ended challenge demanding structure, logic, proof. Model something that physics refuses to acknowledge.

Your notes are chaotic, an evolving web of connections scrawled in the margins, crossed out and rewritten. A familiar frustration gnaws at you—the feeling of standing on the precipice of understanding, just shy of articulation. You run a hand through your hair and exhale sharply, staring at the mess of your own making. You need structure, a foundation to hold onto. If the soul exists, then it cannot be an anomaly—it must be governed by laws, patterns, something definable. If every human mind is unique, then what makes them so? The answer cannot be randomness. There must be an underlying form, a universal template from which all variation emerges.

You tap your pen against the page, mind turning. If identity is not a static entity but a recursive function, shaped by initial conditions and iterative transformations, then no self is ever fixed. The soul would not be a singular essence but a structure in motion, a process of becoming. And if this process holds, then consciousness cannot be isolated. The soul, then, is not merely a singular phenomenon—it is networked, existing not only within itself but through its connections. But what is it that determines it?

If this recursion is real, then it must not be a property of human existence but a fundamental principle of consciousness itself, a universal law.

It isn’t proof. It isn’t even a complete theory yet. But it is a start. A framework, a way forward. You stare at the words in front of you, pulse steady but intent.

Your fingers ache from gripping the pen too tightly, your vision blurring as you stare at the same lines of text, reading and rereading without truly absorbing them. The library’s stillness, once a comfort, has become suffocating—a static silence pressing in around you, the air too thick, the rows of bookshelves seemingly endless, as if space itself is closing in.

You lean back, dragging a hand down your face. A glance at the clock startles you. How long have you been here? Long enough that the lamps cast long, slanted shadows over your scattered notes. Long enough that exhaustion has settled into your limbs, dull and insistent.

You need air. Movement. A change in surroundings before your thoughts begin looping endlessly in place.

Gathering your papers into a loose stack, you shove them into your bag with little care for organization. You rise, stretching the stiffness from your spine before heading for the exit. The fluorescent lighting of the library hums overhead as you step out, the cooler evening air brushing against your skin like a quiet relief.

Minutes later, you find yourself at the café, drawn by the promise of warmth and caffeine. As the quiet hum of the city presses in, you click a few buttons on your phone and lift it to your ear.

–

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingers in the air, grounding you. You wrap your hands around the ceramic cup, letting its heat seep into your skin. You sit near the window, coffee cup nestled between your hands, eyes skimming the notes spread haphazardly across the table. The light overhead buzzes softly—old wiring, probably—but the sound fades into the background as you focus.

You’re not here to have a breakthrough. You’re here to map the boundaries.

The problem with studying the soul—if you can even call it that—isn’t just defining it. It’s figuring out where to look. If it exists as more than a philosophical concept, then there have to be parameters. A framework.

You flip to a blank page in your notebook.

What is the soul?

A real question. Not in the poetic sense, not in the way people speak about it in hushed tones and late-night confessions, but as a function. A thing with properties.

You write:

— The soul is not isolated. If it were, it wouldn’t interact with the world. People change. Learn. Influence each other. Whatever the soul is, it isn’t locked away inside a single person.

— It has persistent traits, but it is not static. Memories shape behavior. Experience alters perception. The thing that makes you you isn’t a fixed point, but it also isn’t random. There’s continuity, even through change.

— It extends beyond individual experience. Connections leave an imprint. People carry each other—sometimes in ways they can’t explain. If the soul exists beyond metaphor, then its effects should be traceable.

You take a slow sip of coffee. These aren’t conclusions. They’re places to start.

At the very least, if you’re going to chase something this impossible, you have to know what it isn’t–

"Trial and error."

The voice is measured, almost idle, but it cuts through the noise of the café like a well-placed incision.

You jolt, pen slipping from your fingers. Anaxagoras is standing beside your table, hands in the pockets of his coat, gaze flicking over your notes with mild interest. His presence isn’t overwhelming, but it shifts the air in a way you feel immediately. Like a variable introduced into an equation.

"You can’t just—appear—like that," you say, exhaling sharply as you retrieve your pen.

He lifts a brow. "I used the door. Perhaps you weren’t paying attention." His gaze drops back to your notebook, reading without asking, though you suspect if you told him to stop, he actually would. "Trial and error," he repeats, as if the phrase itself is under scrutiny. "A method you seem to be employing."

You sit back slightly, fingers curling around your coffee cup. "You say that like it’s a bad thing."

"Not at all," he replies, voice as even as ever. "It’s an honest approach. Just an unpolished one."

You huff a quiet laugh. "Practicality aside, it’s the only thing I can do at this stage. I'm defining parameters, not solving anything." You tap your pen against the page. "Or would you rather I skip to the part where I give you something half-formed and empirically worthless?"

His mouth curves—just slightly. "I appreciate the restraint."

"High praise."

Anaxagoras doesn’t acknowledge that, but his gaze lingers on your notes a moment longer before he straightens. He doesn’t sit, doesn’t ask to join, but he also doesn’t leave immediately.

Instead, he says, "It’s getting cold."

You blink at him. "What?"

"Your coffee," he nods toward your coffee cup, still mostly full. "You’ve been holding it for minutes without drinking."

You glance down at it, then back up at him. "I didn't realize you were keeping track."

"Well, far be it from me to disrupt your... inefficiency." he remarks, stepping back.

You glance toward the door. "I'm actually waiting for someone."

Anaxagoras tilts his head slightly.

"A friend," you clarify, though you're not sure why it feels necessary to do so.

He makes no move to leave, and you take another sip of coffee, not minding the silence that settles between you. It's surprisingly comfortable, even in its brevity.

Then, the door swings open.

Ilias strides in, scanning the café—then stops dead when he sees the two of you. His eyes flick between you and Anaxagoras, narrowing with immediate, delighted suspicion. And then, with exaggerated slowness, he pivots on his heel, turning straight back toward the exit.

"Oh, for—come back," you call, exasperated.

Ilias replies, raising his hands in mock surrender but grinning as he turns back around. "Please. Continue your—" he gestures vaguely, "—whatever this is."

Anaxagoras exhales, barely more than a breath, and finally steps away from your table. "I’m leaving."

Ilias watches him, expression far too entertained. He mutters just loud enough for you to hear, "I can't believe you invited me to your impromptu date."

You glare at him, but before you can retort, you catch the faintest shift in Anaxagoras' posture—nothing overt, no reaction beyond the briefest pause in his step. Then he continues toward the door, leaving without a word.

You groan, rubbing your temples.

Ilias collapses into the seat across from you like a man overcome by the sheer weight of his own amusement. "That was," he announces, "the single most deliciously awkward thing I have ever witnessed."

You mutter a quiet curse under your breath, flipping to a fresh page in your notebook.

"And yet," he sighs, folding his hands under his chin with a smirk, "here I am—like the universe itself has conspired to place me in this exact moment.”

Ilias is still grinning as he leans back in his chair, stretching lazily. “You know, if you ever need a chaperone for your secret intellectual rendezvous, I’m available.”

You roll your eyes, gathering your notes with more force than necessary. “It wasn’t an—” You stop yourself. There’s no point. Ilias seemingly lives for provocation, and you won’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, you shake your head and lean back in your chair, stretching your arms with a sigh.

Ilias, ever the dramatist, makes a show of settling in across from you, propping his chin in his hands. “You’re unusually quiet,” he muses. “Brooding, even.”

“No.”

“Hmm.” He taps a finger against the table. “That was an awfully long pause for a simple ‘no.’”

You roll your eyes but don’t bother arguing. Instead, you glance out the window, watching the people moving along the street, the steady glow of passing headlights. The café hums around you—low conversations, the occasional clatter of a cup against its saucer. It’s late, but not late enough to leave just yet.

Ilias orders something sweet, drumming his fingers absently against the table while he waits. You sip the last of your now-cold coffee, your mind still lingering elsewhere. A glance at your notes does little to pull you back. The thought won’t let go.

You don’t even realize you’re frowning at your notes until Ilias nudges your cup with his own.

"Thinking about your not-a-date?" he teases, grinning.

You glare at him half-heartedly, but there’s no real heat behind it. “Thinking,” you say simply.

Eventually, Ilias finishes his pastry, brushing crumbs from his fingers before stretching with a yawn.

The two of you step outside together, the shift from the café’s warmth to the crisp night air making you shiver. The city has quieted, the usual rush of movement settling into a steadier rhythm. You walk side by side for a while, boots clicking against the pavement, the hum of distant traffic filling the spaces between conversation. 

Even as Ilias chatters on about something inconsequential, the ideas still linger at the edge of your mind, waiting to take shape. 

By the next morning, the café is a memory drowned out by the quiet rustle of students filling the lecture hall. The usual pre-class murmur settles into a steady rhythm—books thudding against desks, the sharp clicking of laptop keys, the low hum of voices exchanging half-hearted speculations on today’s topic. 

You slide into your usual seat at the front, your notes open in front of you, though your pen remains idle between your fingers. The thoughts that have followed you since the library refuse to resolve, circling just beyond reach. There’s something missing—something foundational, yet frustratingly unformed.

At the lectern, Anaxagoras sets down his drink with practiced ease, the cup making a soft, deliberate sound against the wooden surface. The hall quiets. 

He surveys the room with that same composed intensity, his gaze flickering over the assembled students before settling briefly—too briefly—on you.

“Continuity,” he begins, his voice carrying effortlessly, “is a deceptively simple concept. We assume that when two systems interact, they influence each other only at the moment of contact. That once they separate, the interaction ends.”

You straighten slightly. A slow prickle of recognition runs down your spine.

Anaxagoras picks up a piece of chalk and sketches a familiar equation on the board—one you’ve seen before, but never in this exact context. Your fingers tighten around your pen.

“But,” he continues, underlining a key term, “this assumes a linear, local model of influence. What happens, then, if we acknowledge that certain interactions leave something… persistent? That even after separation, a trace remains?”

The rustling of papers around you barely registers. Your thoughts lurch forward, bridging gaps in ways they hadn’t before.

You shift, almost without realizing, and Anaxagoras glances in your direction—briefly, but with intent. He knows.

A student two seats over raises a hand. “Are you talking about quantum entanglement?”

Anaxagoras tilts his head slightly. “A useful analogy, but not a perfect one. Entanglement suggests an instantaneous connection regardless of distance. What I am asking is more fundamental—does influence itself persist, even outside direct interaction?”

A murmur ripples through the hall. A few students exchange looks, some hurriedly scribbling notes, others frowning as they try to grasp the implications.

Your heart beats a fraction faster as the pieces align. The answer should be simple. If two variables are no longer in contact, the influence should end. The system should reset. But—

“They don’t go back to what they were before,” you murmur, half to yourself.

Anaxagoras sets the chalk down. “Louder.”

The words form before hesitation can stop them. “Even apart, they still retain the effect of their interaction. They update each other, whether they remain in proximity or not.”

The silence that follows is the kind that shifts the atmosphere of a room. Not an absence of sound, but a space filled with quiet recognition.

Anaxagoras watches you, his expression unreadable, but you swear something flickers in his gaze.

You grip your pen tighter. “There’s a kind of imprint,” you continue, voice steadier now. “An effect that doesn’t disappear even after separation. A persistence beyond time or proximity.”

He nods once, the movement precise. “Nonlinear. Nonlocal.”

A slow breath escapes you.

The clock on the wall ticks forward. A student coughs. Someone flips a page too loudly. The world presses back in, indifferent to the shape of revelation.

Anaxagoras turns away first, back to the board, where the equation remains half-finished. He picks up the chalk again, his voice returning to its usual cadence, folding the moment neatly back into lecture. 

His gaze flickers back to you for a moment—steady, contemplative, threaded with something unreadable. Interest, perhaps. Amusement, restrained but evident in the slight tilt of his head. And then, just low enough for only you to hear:

“You were closer than you thought.”

You exhale, staring at the marginalia scrawled in the edges of your notebook—sharp, decisive, yet somehow restrained. Outside the window, the campus air carries the crisp scent of rain—not quite fallen, not quite gone. And yet, the thought lingers, refusing to leave you.

-> next.

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[writingmochi]

one year later...

cast: heeseung ✗ fem.reader (ft. the peeps, and other idols)

synopsis: as the day nears midnight on your twins' first birthday, you and heeseung reflect on the past year of your lives as parents, partners, and eternal life rivals...

genre: romantic comedy, slice of life, coming-of-age, rivals since childhood to lovers, college/university-to-fresh graduates au, parents/family au, established relationship au, fluff, angst, mature content (explicit smut)

word count: 17755 (17.7k) + 12 social media-related pics!

warning(s): dark humor, hardships of being a parent (baby blues, insomnia, etc), hardships of being young adults and fresh graduates in today's economy, mention of human excrements (pee, poop, blood, breast milk), nudity (outside of sex), multiple explicit smut scenes (rough sex and love making), they are freaky ahh, unprotected sex, hand job (m & f receive), oral job (m & f receive), deep throating, dirty talk with pet names (daddy & mama), marking, multiple orgasms, creampies, lactation kink (if there is something that i forgot, let me know)

message of the moon: remember that this story is fiction and do be careful and read the warnings at the top. all the idols mentioned here are not what they are in real life.

happy one year to this fic my gosh! i genuinely still can't believe that people love this fic so much. i just have to write this in return ('cause i have also been thinking about them too) :D thank you so much for giving laurel hell a chance and for loving them so much. hope you enjoy this continuation because we started laurel hell with a prologue. why not an epilogue too? + this post is this blog's 1000th post so cheers for that as well

soundtrack (updated playlist) | read part 1 first!

epilogue: my chest is about to burst

from your point of view, you are looking at your whole world.

your body leans against the doorframe as you twiddle with your fingers, eyeing the little fingers clenched into fists out stretched from beneath her little blanket from the gaps of the crib. on the other side, your sight meets the figure with broad shoulders that carefully sets down the baby boy inside his own crib. he leans down, tugging the baby’s blanket on top of the snoring chest just like he did with the sister and carefully leans down as the sound of a kiss flutters in the room. your cheeks warm as he turns around, a wide smile on his face.

heeseung pulls away from siwoo’s crib as the sound of your babies’ snores ring in tandem. his wide smile stops before receding into his signature smirk alongside a scrunched nose and a subtle wink—rolling your eyes as a result. yet, his approaching presence makes you step back outside to the hallway as he carefully clutches onto the door handle and closes it as quietly as possible. your eyes are staring at each other as you both let out a such a long sigh, signalling your tiredness of today from cleaning the house of the tables you pull out for the guests from the very important event of the day.

your twins’ first birthday.

reaching your hand out, you held heeseung’s wrist before bringing him in front of you. your hands fondling his shoulders, pressing down to give them messages as you both walked towards your bedroom. both of you passing by the glass door to the backyard of your new house as you eyed the hanging decorations from the birthday party. wrapped gifts resting on top of the coffee table in the living room, waiting to be opened after the sunrise of tomorrow. for now, your mind is focusing on the comfort of your bed.

the warm light from the bedside lamp creates a relaxing atmosphere as heeseung’s yawn makes you do it as well. he hums, stretching his neck from the soothing message you voluntarily give. heeseung turns his body around before sitting on the edge of the bed. his legs widen up before he tugs you by your hips into his embrace. his head rested on your loose t-shirt-covered stomach, giving it a peck before he tilts back to rest his chin on you, looking up to your face.

“can’t believe they’re one now,” heeseung mumbles. your hands automatically brushing his black bangs that are longer with his new hairstyle, pressing down on the little freckle on his forehead that you love to kiss.

“yeah. gosh, i still remember the pain when i gave birth to them,” you answered, pulling his hand from your hip as you find the crescent marks on the forearm. his blood mixing with yours in that tub, breaking skin to feel a sliver of your enormous pain. his eyes stare at how you caress the marks left by your nails, lifting the arm up so that you can kiss them.

“i’m still so proud of you for that.” his smirk shows once again, the hand you held moved out of your grip before resting on your waist.

“you should also be proud of yourself, hee, for actually committing to what you said that night on the balcony.”

“of course, baby.” his warm gaze pierces your vision as he leans into your left hand that is still cupping his face. leaning down, you rest your lips on his as he puckers up, both pairs melting into each other, signalled by the sigh coming from both you and him. heeseung moves his body backwards, making you gasp and let go from the kiss as you landed on top of him. playfully hitting his chest, heeseung lets out a small shriek and an offended look that made you gave one more peck to the corner of his lips before you rests your back on your side of the mattress.

your head sinks into the silky smooth fabric on the bed, staring at the ceiling as heeseung’s hand moves to connect with yours—interlocking your fingers. peeking from the corner of your eyes, he also stares at the ceiling with his eyelids threatening to droop from exhaustion. that is before he turns his head to meet yours and a smile spreads across both of your features.

“we fucking graduated. we have one-year-old children now together, and i’m living with you now. teen heeseung must have a fucking field day to rest or else his head will explode knowing the situation he is now.”

“heck, i think us in freshmen year of college won’t even expect this shit,” you uttered back. his eyes flutter as he studies your face and how your chest rises and falls in the same rhythm as his.

“i should probably be glad that yoon keeho’s party got raided two years ago. or else, we wouldn’t have fuck and be living this life now.” his statement raises chuckles from you as you shake your head, still couldn’t believe how everything happens and how you are actually enjoying reaping what you both sow now.

“many life-changing events happen even within the year since siah and siwoo are in our lives.” you curl your body now and turn to face it against his. his grip on your hand is still as tight as ever.

“summarize them for me, baby.” heeseung follows suit, the sultry voice that he uses making you roll your eyes once again from his out-of-left-field replies.

“shitting hell, lee.” you used your locked hands to nudge his collar as heeseung held his head against his other arm now resting upright on the mattress.

“well, where do we start?”

-

heeseung's eyes gaze at your shaking body, quiet sobs filter throughout the living area as he couldn't even focus on the movement from the game he is playing at the screen in front of him. days have passed since your confession. he is one month into parenthood and has an internship in a media agency as a copywriter for the sports column. your smile was always masking the session of crying you let out every time you put the baby to sleep.

he continues to peer at you who are standing by the dining table, letting the milk pumper pull out the breast milk so that he or anyone can also help feed the twin. putting his headset on the desk, the chair skids as heeseung stands up to go to you. your hand is gripping the dining table, trembling as heeseung steps closer and peeks his face beside yours. you don't jump anymore—unlike the many times you had before—and your eyelashes flutter as the evident sniffles don't magically make the presence of your crying self disappear instantly.

your tense body relaxes as a warm hand rested on your waist, the hand that was holding onto the table starts to relax as the other is holding onto the pumper. his hand moves and gently pushes your head to face him—dried trails of liquid glisten your cheeks from the light as he brushed them with his thumb.

"i'm listening…" his short reply earns him a small smile from your swollen face. the humming of the machine fills in the space as he holds onto your waist, one of the hand brushing against your breast full of milk.

taking a huge breath, you answered, "i feel… useless… i don't know- i, i just feel like i should do something else other than taking care of the twins. like, preparing for graduation, internships, or something?"

"our graduation isn't until february 2025. you still have a paper to do for that as well… and other than that," he turns your head to face him, mind scrambling as the highlighted words in relation to postpartum blues shows up in mind.

"you're adjusting to a new normal. everything that you, we, are experiencing will be normalcy. you have me to take care of them. you know that, right, baby?"

the pet name that slips out of his lips makes him nibble on them as you let out a small chuckle, your eyes looking another way as he kisses your temple. "yeah, plus you have that paternal leave notice as well," heeseung hums as a reply before he pulls back.

"i was thinking. maybe you could take a weekend trip with the girls. you deserved rest."

"and you deserved more time with your children too, lee heeseung," you retort, feeling how the tips of his fingers are brushing against the part beneath your swollen chest, holding you close against him.

"yeah, that could work." heeseung speaks like he is talking with himself before he rests his head on your shoulder as he opens the group chat with all eight of the gang. his fingers pressing onto the virtual keyboard as he chats away the plan he had been going for you. your sight following each written word as you nuzzle against him.

what could go wrong by leaving heeseung alone with the twins, huh?

-

"WAAHHHHHH"

"RRAHHHH"

two wailing cries come from two different sides of the room as the twins move on the bean bags of the living area. in the kitchen, heeseung is struggling to pour your now-warm breast milk into the bottles while looking at the instructions you give in the chatbox. siah wake him up early today, brushing on the other side of the bed to feel your dissapearance from the night before as chaeryeong picks you up for the girls' trip—a granola bar in replace with a small note of "good luck, lee :P." he didn't realized just how much of a foodie his babies are until siah even nearly finishes her bottle before the daylight graces his side of the earth.

the rest of the day is filled with burping the babies and see them sleep on the bean bag from most of the daylight. as he played co-op with jeongin on the other side of the screen, he had think "it's not as bad as i thought to be with them the whole day." that is before he rested his head against the backrest of his gaming seat that he looks at the instagram story of your matching picture.

pressing it, he finds the video of the rushing spring wave pushing onto the beach. his memory catches onto your apperance, straightening your body as you walk from the sea when he notices how you are wearing one of his basketball shorts—the 01 is evident as it contrasts the black decelis color—but it matches with your bikini top that shows your cleavage but also the rest of your torso that is returning back to your pre-pregnancy body from the wrapping you have done.

heeseung feels the seething flame inside his eyes as he presses to reply to your story, typing into the box as he watches how you're getting closer to the screen before brushing against the camera right as he hits send.

right as he sees your last message, siwoo's wail rings throughout the room that he even is startled by that. too late to quiet him down as his sister follows along. eyes on the empty bottles on the dining table from the morning that he has to refill.

his hands hold onto the two bottles as he gently picks up siah to join her with her brother on the same bean bag before heeseung picks up one bottle and holds the end onto siwoo's lips, which he latches onto. his free hand caresses siah's head before grabbing onto her bottle and doing the same thing to her. instead, she doesn't seem enthusiastic to drink as her cries slowly fizzle out whilst looking at her brother who is drinking the milk with her big doe-like eyes. heeseung chuckles, thanking the universe that it isn't as cruel as he thought.

however, his chuckles are also being followed, looking down to see the corner of siah's mouth lifting up and she lets out a giggle of her own. heeseung's smile gets wider, the first time he sees his daughter genuinely smile. his hand is still squeezing the bottle. siwoo is drinking from it as he can feel the way his eyes getting blurry to hear the chuckles coming from the baby's lips. he knows that he will brag about this to you when you come back tomorrow. "you want to know what happened? siah smiled. genuinely. her smile is so beautiful-"

the chuckles turn into blurbs as siah's innocent eyes look up to her dad's, finding how he grimaces as the smell floating around is a familiar smell—eyes returning to the culprit who was a blabbering mess full of laughter. heeseung sighs as he squeezes the last droplet of the milk before he replaces it with siwoo's pacifier and then taking care of the bomb that siah just dropped. his hands slowly familiarizing the muscle memory he had trained from the many classes with haseul. siah's legs flailing as he peels off the diaper before quickly replacing it.

he can't help but to want to get better with this. the motivation of his rivalry with you coming once again. and he will still definitely flaunt that he had been the receiving end of his daughter's first smile.

-

you didn't cry as much as the month before. instead, it is replaced with the sound of guitar strumming that has decorated your home's atmosphere for the past few days.

with siwoo at the back and siah at the front, heeseung finishes bringing the two on a stroll through campus and on the park—earning a few nods of respect from the people he had met before as he balances his final classes with taking care of the babies. their giggles decorate more of the day as he lets them reach out their hands on the soft grass while resting onto each of their dad's thighs. the door of the apartment closes gently as the sound of your guitar makes the twins react.

ever since that trip—and the many mentions of siah and also siwoo's smiles towards him—you are motivated than ever to reclaim your old life and assimilate it with the one now. reaching out to yoonah, she is able to put your name in for your old position with the additional apprenticeship with the human resources division. hearing much of mitski's latest album on the trip, you played air guitar chords as you listened to the song and looked at the tab deciphered online, implementing on your guitar that you now bring to work.

hearing the sound of the children singing along to your strumming warms and flutters your heart more and more, resulting in yoonah assigning you to play a large part for the annual showcase: playing your guitar as the background for the children to sing, even making you sing a few lyrics to also help them.

"aahhh!" siah reacted to the guitar as heeseung slowly lifted her up from her place and gently carried her whilst walking towards your shared bedroom where you are practicing. a nudge from his elbow is enough for the door to widen as he can hear siwoo also flailing behind his back.

"my babies!" you exclaimed whilst looking upwards from your position sitting on the floor. heeseung slowly kneels down as he places siah on the floor before opening the belt that holds siwoo's carrier by his chest. siah leans her body against heeseung's folded legs as her hands clap against each other. siwoo following afterwards as he had the widest smile on his face. your boyfriend's hand holding onto their chests to not let them lean too forward. their eyes flitting between your strumming hands and the one on the tab of your acoustic guitar. the chords you're playing are simple ones that heeseung asked for you to teach him, but that, combined with the familiar lyrics of the little mermaid staple, 'part of your world' creates a combination of how nonchalant you are between playing the guitar and singing.

heeseung had heard you sing before—from the mumble singing as you tried to separate yourself from him in your joint road trip between two families during the last year of middle school to the karaoke hangs out as you sing a high school musical song with minjeong—yet it still doesn't make him tired. sometimes he joins in even with a small volume. but with the way you had to practice for the performance whilst also helping the children you take care of to also sing, he had caught you singing numerous of times. when you start to play the guitar once again, he enters the room and hears how your sound dwindles from full one lyrical to just melodical hums. but, whilst waiting for the end of the night as you and he tuck in the twins into their cribs, you let him listen to you play mitski's song on the guitar whilst resting his head against your shoulder; sitting on the floor by the foot of the bed after a long day of wrecking his mind for proofreading his articles. his favourite is 'first love/late spring'—your all-time favorite and the very song your instagram handle referred to.

siwoo pushed his hand forward, fingers moving as his big eyes look at your hand on the fingerboard as he mimics them like he holds a small guitar of his own. siah, on the other hand, focuses more on the sound of your voice and on the guitar. her face agape with her eyes moving around to capture as much of the sound as possible. that is before she shrieks in excitement, her body bouncing around it makes heeseung panic as siah claps her hand.

"amma!"

the chord lingers as you stop strumming, jaw dropped as you look at your daughter who didn't know what she has done, but your eyes lock with heeseung who is also left stunned. and as you drop your guitar on the mattress, it begins.

"YES!!!"

"NO!"

your exclaims clash with heeseung's as you quickly grab siah out of his grip and lift her up in your arms. practically running around the bedroom as your whoops and siah's giggles filter into the room. heeseung pulls siwoo up onto his lap, looking at his mom and sister walking around in amazement and confusion before turning his head to look at his dad, who stares down with a look of determination.

"come on, my son! make me proud. say appa." heeseung speaks the last word as slow as ever, replaying it for siwoo to follow as you picked up your phone to record the interaction. siah's excitement spreads as she taps against your torso while calling for you in her baby speak. the viewfinder from the phone screen focuses on siwoo, heeseung's hand resting on the baby's knees as you can see how their eyes start to resemble each other. siwoo follows the way heeseung's lips move, a little chuckle coming out of his little body as heeseung finally lets out the word, slower and now with found.

"appa?" heeseung says once more.

"appa." siwoo follows, and the grin you were sporting gets wider as your body shakes. heeseung giggles as he tucks siwoo into more of his laps before spreading kisses from his head to his chubby cheeks. "appa!" siwoo shrieks as you slowly walk toward heeseung before leaning down and kissing the crown of his head.

"gosh, they're growing up so fast," you sighed as the twins seemed to be encouraged more to speak. heeseung stares up at your standing self, a smirk on his face as he looks at the two. his mind already be thinking of how warm his home can be.

with the numerous practice that you have done in the comfort, a few weeks has passed in a blink of an eye as heeseung looked at his twins tucked in their formal outfits and a small headset that covers their ears so they won't get hurt from the loud sounds, holding onto beomgyu's and ryujin's shoulders respectively.

heeseung tucked his suit jacket and smoothed down the creases as he eyed the numerous parents coming to the recital to celebrate the graduation of the older kids who will be going to elementary school this year; no need for daycares anymore. you have mentioned some of them—mainly woonhak, hyunseo, yujin, and rami—as you both converse about your day at work, as he reminded you many times of your conflicting feelings from the overwhelming sense of emotions and your still unstable postpartum hormones.

"those children will grow up and remember you taking part in their lives."

you left the apartment for the rehearsals, borrowing his car as he has to then drive beomgyu's sedan with the two people holding onto his babies like their designated car seats. a bouquet of pink flowers and another collection of sunflowers sitting beside ryujin, who is playing around with siwoo in the back seat.

the parents there had their eyes on the twins—their eyes full of reminiscence of when their own kids were that young as heeseung told them of their age: nearly three months old. ryujin holds onto the ticket for the recital to go to their seats, their eyes set on the poster for the disney-themed performance as they look at the credits to find your name: narrated and accompanied by (l/n)(y/n).

the twins couldn't contain their excitement as beomgyu sat on his seat and jumped siah around on his thighs. the boy's eyes looking at his best friend with furrowed eyebrows and bouquets tucked in front of him to hide.

"didn't know she is also narrating the recital," heeseung uttered, confiding with his best friend to whom he can pour his hearts out.

"yeah, but you should've known because she is practicing many disney songs to play." beomgyu shook his head, can't believing even your boyfriend can see the nuance of it.

"that is because you are a fully-fledged musician, beom. and it feels to me like she kept it a secret for me." he rolled his eyes before ryujin cut in.

"she does that. i know little spoilers but you'll see why she only practices songs outside of work," your best friend said as she hold onto siwoo. their eyes were looking at heeseung, who only gave a sigh before the lights dimmed in the rest of the room, shining a spotlight on the lone stool in the middle of the stage.

claps and cheers are heard as heeseung looks to the stage to find you in a dress he had never seen you before. a white sundress that is a perfect embodiment of a cozy summer look. the little scratchiness of the acoustic guitar strap on your back also filled in with your footsteps as you bowed down in front of the parents you recognized and guests that also come along, tucking on the headset microphone closer to your lips.

sitting down and adjusting the guitar to rest on your lap, heeseung looks as you played the song he never heard you play at home, but he recognized it from his childhood. your fingers picking on the strings as your voice rings as he held onto his breath, mesmerize by everything that is you. a intimate and warm rendition of 'you'll be in my heart' from the tarzan movie he had watched when he was also a kid.

"i will be here, don't you cry~" you sing and smile, knowing what happens next as you sing the chorus and the curtains lift up behind you, showing the kids dressing up in their costumes and the backdrop of a beautiful landscape behind you. the sound of the pitter-patters from the stage combines with the children's laughter as you continue to sing, and it made heeseung's eyes sting before looking at his twins, who are also looking at the stage, mesmerized.

as he watches the performance, he now understands your role as the audience surrogate—maybe even parental surrogate. a bridge between the children and their fantasy world and the people watching as you seem to be like an all-seeing and knowing deity, asking questions the audience may also thinking in their head as the children answers, playing the music diegetically and non-diegetically as heeseung can't help but to utilizes the lessons he learned in media analysis class. the children perform with the music as you continue to accompany them until the end.

with the last song—indicated by the appearance of a small orchestra group—ended, the audience stands for the standing ovation. you lead the kids to the front of the stage as you all take a bow alongside the daycare staff who appeared on stage as the team leaders of every group on the stage. heeseung quickly steps out from his seat, and giddiness flows through his body when he sees the other parents allowed to be on stage to give their bouquets to their children.

your eyes were greeting woonhak's parents, who were beaming with joy at their child's performance, saying words about the boy who is hugging onto his dad's legs before you heard someone call for you. turning your body to the voice, your eyes enlarged as you watched heeseung standing up on stage with a bouquet of sunflowers in his hand.

"for me?" you asked as you stopped in front of heeseung, who had a sheepish smile.

"this one? no, this is for the kids," he answered as the disappointed look he expected didn't come. it was replaced with disbelief.

"wow, you even thought of them, huh? genuinely impressed." you slowly hold onto the bouquet as you see the sunflowers are separated. in an instant, you left heeseung behind to approach woonhak as you squatted down and gave him one of the sunflowers. heeseung actually followed you around, giving the flowers to children that you had taken care of as he watches some of them wrapping their arms around your neck.

the paper that encases the stems is all left as you fold it when your eyes see ryujin and beomgyu standing at the front of the stage as they looked up at the crowd there. your legs stride you there as you see your babies realizing the look of their mom there with the exclamations of "ma" ringing between them.

"hello! how are you two doing with uncle gyu and auntie ryu?" you questioned as you sat down in the position where your legs dangled off the stage as the twins reached their arms up to caress your dress.

"they're surprisingly calm during the car ride. siah was actually bopping to the rock songs on the radio," beomgyu replied as he held onto siah gently while still letting her reach out to touch your hand. the boy's eyes moved to your right as ryujin rolls her eyes whilst giggling. you turn to see a bouquet of pink flowers in your eyes as you lift up and find heeseung's heavy breathing face with a sweating forehead staring right at you.

"i was chasing you around. you were so quick," your boyfriend complained as you echoed your question.

"so, this one is for me?"

"of course, baby," he replied as you looked down at the bouquet and pulled it to your hold. your hand brush up his forehead to wipe the sweat before he wraps his arm around your waist and kisses your temple. earning a look of disgust at beomgyu and ryujin as heeseung gives a quick bird flip to the both of them before he reaches down to get siah and siwoo from their hands to your laps to get some photos.

-

"has it been that long since we ate out?" you eyed the hotpot broths that were slowly boiling on the table between the two of you.

"only the two of us? probably before you gave birth," heeseung replied, his forehead framed with his bangs as you both wearing some comfy outfits whilst going out after leaving the twins with your parents.

"in technicality, all four of us were there." you held onto the chopsticks and put the things you ordered into the broth. "so, i can assume that we never go out only the two of us."

"why would we back then? we're rivals, and we can't stand each other."

you hummed as heeseung put the noodles in the mala broth, "yet, here we are. sitting across from each other, dating, and also having kids with each other." he continues.

"you just have to know how much of a relief i will be having today without the twins. i love them, but i also want rest," you said it so playfully exasperated, watching the food being boiled as heeseung tasted the broth on the tip of his chopsticks.

"well, they will be with your parents today and then my parents tomorrow. we'll have the whole weekend to ourselves until we pick them up on sunday. that should probably be enough, yeah?"

"yeah," you echoed. your eyes gleaming as you stare at the boy across from you, not as a baby daddy, but as someone you are interested in.

"i think you promised me to do a tell-all on that girls' trip with you five," heeseung continues the conversation as you sighed.

"unless you also tell me that day you brought the twins to work."

"deal."

both of you blabber as you keep up with each other's lives whilst filling your stomachs up with the delicious hotpot. maybe it is because of your shared struggle that you are very comfortable talking with each other about something deeper. you both actually resolve much of the conflict you had when you were younger, from the time when you stopped him from teasing a friend of yours to him genuinely apologizing for the nosebleed you get. you talked about your friends' relationships too, mainly beomgyu and ryujin that still pisses you off because of beomgyu's "chance" by using you. but you didn't expect that heeseung has some hot takes about it, too.

"it is very shitty of him when i knew of the big picture. i actually had a talk with him about that the first time we met after i moved into the apartment with you. he shouldn't use you like that." heeseung sipped his drink before continuing, "maybe that's why he still isn't as open to you like he used to."

"yeah, i feel it too. but i am glad that he manned up and actually courted ryujin. like, that time that i said to him that because she is demiromantic might be stuck to him because he had to actually get close to her to make her interested in him." you stretch your arms up after licking the broth that was sticking to your lips.

as you put your card down to pay—"for all the numerous times you paid me for my food" you retorted to him—you walk hand in hand with heeseung on the shopping street as you eyed the numerous stores before his eyes landed on the arcade. shaking your head, you let heeseung drag you into the building with numerous neon-colored machines as he leads you both to the air hockey table. a recognisable flame in his eyes as he inserts the credits into the machine.

"come on. don't tell me you're giving up on our rivalry?" heeseung taunts you as he grabs the mallet on his side.

"it never died down ever since you brought up the twins' firsts and who saw it. bring it on!" the puck is released from its dock as you hit it with your mallet hard to the other side, eyes on the goal.

it didn't stop with air hockey; it continued to racing games both on car and motorcycle to even the game where you both have to use teamwork to fight the enemies. in the end, the giddiness of your youths comes back as you walk side by side with fingers interlocked, your other hand holding onto the bag containing your favorite joint fried chicken franchise as a takeaway. the wind of the night blowing the cool air that combats the summer's stinging heat.

pressing the number in the keypad, the familiar chime tells you to push the door handle and the door open. your feet immediatly moves to push your shoes off as you step onto the wooden floor, heading towards the kitchen island that is your dining table. you put down the bag of chicken on it, moving it around on the island until it stands near the edge on the shorter side. that is when you also noticed the sound of loud breaths and hands pressing down on your hips.

"you look so fucking sexy." the familiar voice calls as he brushes his point nose against the crook of your neck, inhaling a little bit before pressing a searing kiss on the skin. "from that dress in the recital to your freaking outfits on that girls trip" he reminded. one of his hands move to the front of you, pressing down onto the tummy where your babies were—nearing the top of your lower lips. the searing kiss trails down until the edge of the collar from your neck before he gave the skin a hard suck.

"i wanna put another baby in you." heeseung's deep tone sends goosebumps up your arms. one of your hands meets the one pressing down your tummy. you expand your neck for him, leaning back against his muscular shoulders as his hold on you moves around your body, one of them squeezing your tense breasts that lets you feel both the pain and pleasure.

"hee, we might get an irish twin, then."

"irish triplet with our current situation. besides..." one of his hands guides your head to face his—even only a glimmer of it felt hot against your cheeks, "i haven't properly thank you for giving birth to our children and the past three months."

your quick movement makes his grip on you loosen and you wrapped your hands around his neck before slamming your lips against his that he replies hungrily. your baggy clothes fold into the form of your current body as he pushes his tongue into your cavern, sensing the saliva polling around the edge of your lips. a gasp come out from your lungs as he lifted you up to sit on the kitchen island. legs already curling up as he stands in between your spreading knees. heeseung's digits continue to trail down against your front as you lean back and find yourself breathing hard the oxygen around you. you help him lift your t-shirt off of yours, letting him see the nursery bra you bought yourself because of your enlarging breasts.

"fuck…" you hiss, letting him touch the much more sensitive nipples because of the arousal as he chuckles as you lift his t-shirt off. the plane of his muscles still looks sexy even without the strain of sports training them when you move your hands across his torso before you cup his jaw and meet his lips with yours once again. kisses that felt more like devouring every inch of your mouth to each other.

"i'm gonna worship you so much," he whispers against your lips, forehead meeting yours as you let your breath intermingle when his two hands reach behind to unhook your bra. your breasts fell from the hold as they landed on your chest. heeseung's hands pushed your shoulder blades so that you sat upright before moving to your perk nipples, all sensitive to touch even with his caresses.

"you have to know…" he cups one of your boobs gently, "when i was heating up the milk for the twins when you were away for your trip." his hands now move to hold you by your ribcage right underneath your armpit, making him able to play to around with them easier.

"i tried a sip." your eyes meet where heeseung's eyes supposedly are looking, yet his focus lingers a little longer on your breasts before he lifts it up to know your reaction. lips agape, you meet his hot stare as he steps closer, brushing his clothed bulge against your covered core. the tips of your nose touching as his eyes pierced into yours.

"i bet it tastes better from the source. please, let me?" you lightly gnaw at your bottom lip, looking between his thick lips to your sensitive boobs as you decipher the hint of desperation in his tone. one of your hands moved to caress the prominent lines on his abdomen.

"i want to see you do it." your words added to your nodding as he gives you a peck on the lips before trailing them down your chin to your neck and your chest. one hand holding yourself upright on the island, his hand cup one of your boobs before squeezing it, making you let out a small moan only for him to hear combined with both of your ragged breaths.

his lips trailed down the curve before flicking the nipple with his tongue. you peer down, focusing on the nipple that heeseung wants to try.

"a little suck first, until you taste it." you guide him as his big eyes open to meet yours while his lips wrapped around the nipple. the little tug from heeseung's force startles you because it feels the same as your babies when you breastfeed. "add a bit more force." his eyebrows furrowed a little to your additional guideline, the hand holding onto your other boob give a light squeeze when he sucked with a bit more force. and when he felt the sweet and warm liquid envading his taste buds, he couldn't help but groan and close his eyes to take it in.

your moans increase in frequency as your eyes continue to focus on your boyfriend's blissful expression from breastfeeding from you. his grip on the other breast squeezes more as you feel his tongue lapping your milk. he pulls off with an evident pop, vision still on the nipples as it squirts a bit more of the milk before landing on your areola, where he trails the tip of his tongue to not let them go to waste. he meets your eyes with a grin on his face before he presses his tongue back into your cavern, letting you taste the milk your body produced.

"it is better. now i know why the twins love the milk so much. i might get addicted to this." heeseung mumbles as he is already on his way to your other boobs. fighting the coolness with his warm mouth as you chuckle from his statement.

"don't hoard the milk for yourself, baby." your hand that was on his abs moved down to his clothed bulge. his eyebrows raised as you communicate with your eyes before you felt his hand following your actions.

"i'll buy you so many food so that you can make more for the twins and me…" your boyfriend utter against your skin before sucking with the same force on your other nipple, feeling the milk getting pulled out as your fingers unbutton his jeans and zip it down. you can't help but lean your head back and whimper, enjoying heeseung's warmth from his mouth lapping up your milk to his fingers already unbuttoning your own baggy jean pants and caressing your moist core.

pulling back as he licks up the rest of the droplets of milk, your touch on his hardened covered cock is gone as he slowly kneels down. he peels away both your pants and underwear to gaze at every expanse of your skin. heeseung kisses every scar around your waist, tummy, and hips areathe past three months about most are the result of how your skin stretcch to accomodate your twins during your pregnancy. he gives special treatment on the stretch marks on your tummy, the ones he also helps with when you were too busy breastfeeding the twins to give the lotion. and then, he continues to trail down, kissing along the slit of your outer labia before finding your clit and the wet core before he licks the pre-cum up.

"i miss this pussy." he groaned then quickly followed with a shriek from you as he laps up your slit, satiating his starvation. your hand locking into the strand of his hair as the gentle heeseung begging to breastfeed is now gone in an instant. your clit slowly becomes more and more sensitive with his licks, combine that with his finger pushing into your walls makes the whole of your body shudder.

"heeseung, heeseung, baby-" you exclaimed, thighs trembling as you held it open to not crush him. he thrusts into your hole with his tongue and presses down on your nub. your toefingers cringing in pleasure as you let the moans come out of you and into the darkness of the night and comfort of your apartment. his hums create more vibration as you brush the bangs covering his forehead, finding his hooded eyes looking at yours and your blissful expression. every thrust and lick is slowly building you up to the release you haven't felt in a while. your hand movement becomes more frantic from the caress of his hair to the hold on his shoulder.

pulling away, heeseung looks at the line of spit connecting his lips to your labia, brushing them with your thumb as he stands up to peel his underwear off, dragging you off the island as you take a quick look at his erect cock, before he brought you to your bedroom. being in the front, heeseung eyes the mirror in the corner of the room beside the window as he brings you both in front of it. the corner of the bed behind you when you eyed your reflection as you hear taps on skin before turning to see heeseung manspreading on the bed, his cock twitches as it becomes harder and straighter.

you bit your bottom lip as you stepped towards him. he turned your body around and pulled you into his embrace. his cock resting in between your cheeks as you can't help but gaze at your body on his. heeseung pulls you a bit upwards as he adjust his sitting, the dick that rested behind you now folding forward as you can feel it grazing your swollen nub. his head appears on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your front as he whispers, "look in the mirror."

from the reflection, you find two naked bodies in a passionate embrace; the warmth from the orange lamp on the bedside table enforces the intimacy as you gaze down to look at your nether region touching. but when you trail upwards, you feel shivers as you meet heeseung's eyes, who has been observing just how good your body is on his. his hand doesn't stop trailing to the stretch marks when you turn your head to find his. your hand holding onto his nape as his kisses are messy, trailing his saliva down the expanse of your neck before your collarbone and shoulder.

"i want you to see just how much you enjoy getting fuck by my cock," his hands slowly moved down to your thighs respectively, "spread them for me."

you folded your knees as you rested the heels beside each side of his thighs, jaw dropping as you can see your hole spreading open in the mirror. one of heeseung's hands caresses the lower lips, spreading it open using two of his fingers against the skin. his kisses along your shoulder continue with his eyes looking at you looking downwards. a hand reaches for his hard member so close to slip inside. you spit onto the palm as you wet his tip up. his sighs is chill on your wet shoulder as he presses down on your clit and your tummy—where your womb is.

"whenever you ready, because i'm going hard," he seductively tells you, biting the lobe of your ear lightly as he sits up and holds himself steady for you to move. when you nudge his tip against your clit, both of you let out a shared moan as heeseung's grip on you tighten. you slide his tip up and down your slit before pushing it into your hole, looking at it spread as you move your hips forward to push him deeper.

both yours and his eyes focused on how your walls spread to take him in—nearly closing your eyes as heeseung whispers, "eyes stay open." the sensation is something that you missed—and something that you don't want to tell him that he is the only one that could fulfill it—as both his and your hips move in tandem to see find the tip of his cock almost slipping out before you both push together, a gasp coming out as he stole your breath when you felt him touching the entrance of your cervix.

"look at you, mama. splitting into two with my dick inside of you." you moaned at his words as the sensation stuns you to brace yourself while heeseung continues to move, making you stabilize yourself by digging your heels on the mattress and one of your hands digging into your open lower lips with a v shaped from your pointer and middle fingers, pressing it close near heeseung's cock for added touch as he groans behind you, still rubbing onto your clit.

heeseung's head rested on your shoulder, pushing down so that it won't let go as his hips move his member into and hands holding you in place. he gazes at your bouncing breasts with each thrust, your moans combining with his as he eyes the nipples where the familiar white droplets are leaking out from the nipples.

"you're so fucking- i can't believe you're mine." he babbles, the hold on your waist moves up to your breast as he felt the stickiness of his saliva and your milk, not stopping the pace of his dick drilling into you. blood rushes into your cheeks when you realise that your breast milk is leaking out. but your boyfriend doesn't even have the comprehension to stop.

"harder, daddy-" you let out a long moan as every sense in your body overwhelms you. your eyes moving between his cock pushing and pulling inside of you, his hands holding onto one of your boobs, and heeseung's face full of grit as he chases his and your highs. leaning forward, you feel the way your back is sticking to his chest from the sweat as you brace your hands on his knees, lifting your hips to meet his as you feel every deep thrust he pushes inside of you. not even a minute later, you can feel your body trembling and your hands waver as heeseung pulls you back again to him. his arm wrapped around your collar before a hand grabs onto your neck and presses down on the side.

"i'm cum-" you announced, tears in your eyes as you see the blurriness of your face and the ruined make up on your face. shaking, you let out a loud moan as you collapse back onto heeseung, who is close because of his pattern of groans.

"cum inside me, daddy," you mumbled out, egging him on as your orgasm makes you open your eyes wide and clear. the wetness from your cum spilling out with his thrust as he holds onto your body tighter and tighter, his lips founding your neck as he gives a long suck while moaning against your skin. his warm semen coats your walls as he continues to groan; gravity does its thing as he fills you up so full that it starts to leak out.

you watch as heeseung's flushed face holds open your thighs wide, eyes on your nether region as you follow him to find his white semen leaking from around his cock as your lips continue to grip on him. your hands is the one that reaches down, picking up a trail of it from a prominent vein on his dick, and places it by your perky nipple, let his cum meets your breastmilk as he reaches up to caress the mixture, your boob, and your hand in the same squeeze—making you tilt your head as he slams his swollen lips on yours. his hums making hum as well as you felt his other hand touching the area where you and he meet, the stickiness of both of your releases on his palm

pulling away from the hot kiss, you mumbled, "one more."

"one more?"

"one more load from you, daddy, please." your hooded eyes meets his, clamping onto his cock as your lips brushes against his. then, a blur of movement pulls out another puff of breath from you.

your back landed on the matress, whimpers came out of you as he pulled out when his body now before you, kneeling on the beds as you spread your legs open for him. both of your cum squeezes out from your moving walls. heeseung doesn't hesitate, pluging deep inside of you as your eyes enlarges and lips widen into a smile.

"YES- ah!" you shouted, his legs grabbing onto your respectively as he pushes down, folding your body as it still shakes with every thrust he pushes in. your hands reaching on the forearms that holding onto your legs, locking you both into the position. heeseung continues to drill into you, your pussy's wetness from your natural lubricants and his semen becoming music into his ears along with the skin slapping and your moans.

"fuck- you can take it, yeah mama? one more load?"

"yes, yes, yes, yes- daddy!" you replied as he let go of his hold on your legs and leaned forward, pushing him deeper as your legs wrapped themselves behind his back. his hands sit beside your head, every movement from him drags you up the bed as he finally leans down and swallow your moans all to himself. his hand grabs onto the breast where you spread his cum on, leaning down so he trail of his off before to your nipple and he suck hard to get the milk out.

"fuck yes!" you exclaimed, hands moving down to his ass where you hold him there to push him more, "breed me, breed me, breed me- i'm cum-"

your body trembles underneath heeseung's as you hold onto his back to press him down against you, riding your high as he chases his own. his hold on your throat continues as he leans so close to make your lips involuntarily kiss each other's with every push. a thumb from the hold on your neck presses down onto your bottom lips to make you suck on them as he hides his head in your neck—holding himself as deep as he can inside of you for last time tonight as he groans for you, adding more load of his release for your walls to hold on.

hands reaching for his head as you slowly brought them in front of you, ragged breathes bouncing on each other as you adjust your breathing to his. a chuckle coming out from both of you as you pulled him down and kiss the freckle on his forehead before trailing down to his fluttering eyelids to his swollen lips. the only sound is from your breath before the familiar ringtone comes from outside of the room.

"get it for me, daddy? i feel wobbly as fuck."

"for sure, mama." he kissed your cheek as he stands up, seeing that he is also stumbling while a few of your releases flung from his dick that whips around everytime he moves—making you giggle more as you heard him say "fuck you" from outside the bedroom. his footsteps get closer as he throws your t-shirt for you before putting the phone on speaker as he tugs onto his own tee. the familiar cry coming from the end of the call.

"(y/n)! are you okay if we move to video call? siwoo seems to his mom so much, he couldn't fall asleep." your mom calls for you from the end of the line, making you quickly pull your back against the wall of the bed and tucking your t-shirt.

"sure-" you're startled by your hoarse voice before clearing them with a cough, "sure, sorry for picking up late. just preparing to get to sleep."

the call quickly changes to a video call as you regard heeseung, who is back from the bathroom, your makeup remover on one hand and a small towel on the other. on the screen of your phone, you are faced with the appearance of your crying son as you clear your throat again.

"siwoo-yah. mama's here," you called out as heeseung sat beside you, hands holding open your thighs as he lightly pats your core and cleans your releases from your lower lips.

hearing your voice, siwoo's cry seems to die down as he looks into your screen to see his mom's face while his grandma seems to bounce him when you notice just how sleepy he is.

"was he asleep before he cried, mom?" you questioned. the screen flips upwards to see siwoo on your mom's lap.

"yeah, i just think he missed his parents. that's all."

"we missed you too, buddy," heeseung calls from off-screen as the look in siwoo's face changes in recognition. pushing your hand forward, you slowly gave your phone to heeseung's other hand and tried your best to not show your mom what you both were doing while she was taking care of her grandchildren to sleep.

siwoo exclaims as he sees his dad on the screen, making you able to his with every caress of the towel against you core from how sore you are as heeseung comes to help soothe him before singing the lullaby he sings to get the babies to sleep—you following him in a whispers.

you settle all morning in heeseung's embrace when you wake from the warm shower you both have last night. all the plans for day two without your twins go away as you both are just there in each other's hands, and your social battery recharges as you spend quality time with each other- including a little cockwarming action as you help strategise his next moves in league of legends.

as the last day ends, siwoo and siah are tucked in their car seats as you sit in between them. the groceries and other things you got today sitting in the front seat with heeseung as he drives all of you home. heeseung's parents' words about how polite these two are give a sense of pride for yourself and their son as you pick them up, holding onto two more bags of goodies his parents and yours also give to the twins and their parents.

after taking a warm shower, you lean yourself back on the bean bag as you hold onto the controller, staring at the projection of the colorful gameplay of it takes two on the wall. a hiss comes out from heeseung who fails another jump on the platforming as you waited on the other end, following with a hiss of your own as you look down on your bare chest to see both the twins breastfeeding on each boob at the same time.

"i'm getting second-hand embarrassment from seeing you struggling so much." you tilt your head to face him on his own bean bag.

"i'm trying here, baby."

"yeah, you are. that's your fault for boasting a bit too much." your voice pitch goes a little high in the word 'bit' as he lets out a full sigh when he finally sees your character on his side of the screen. you recall his words as he bought the game off of the steam marketplace—"cool premise for a game about a married couple and their struggles but played by a young couple whose relationship is blooming from a place of competition," his words echo—yet, he is the one that is mad with himself.

peering down when you hear the sound, siah leans back and coughs as heeseung steps from his bean bag, bringing it beside yours as he picks up siah from your chest and into his arms, patting her back so she can swallow the food against his bare torso. the light refracted from the wall also lighting up your skin; specifically much more comfortable in being topless around each other the blinds are sealed shut.

you held onto siwoo, who is still enthusiastically drinking milk when you heard the burp from siah as heeseung turns his head to face you with a smirk. "one down and one more to go."

"i don't think they will rest soon." you point at your daughter, who is already mesmerised by the moving scenery of the game on the wall.

"that's okay. family bonding time, besides…" heeseung gently holds onto siah as he leans down towards your side, "i can take a sip of your milk again anyway, right? so that one is not lopsided."

rolling your eyes, you caress siwoo's hair before saying, "sure, baby."

heeseung leans down and laps the leftover from siah's feeding time before sucking lightly on the nipple and let him sip little by little, can't help but brushing the hairs of your boys that were clinging onto you as your girl speaks in her baby speak whilst looking at how the projection moves around with your movement on the thumb stick, fascinating her with the world of game and even the real world more and more.

-

"a-wa-wahh?"

"agooo!"

"yeah, i know," heeseung replied as he held onto the twins wearing their matching onesies of the zootopia characters. the bunny ears on siah pushed back so she can look at you who is still finishing your halloween look: adding onto the drawing on your skin so that it could look more "ripped up".

you looked one last time at your halloween outfit, a modern, last-minute outfit based on frankie stein from monster high as the girls finally settled on the outfit theme they wanted to wear. pulling a little bit of your shirt down, you clean up your look as you turn around to find heeseung and your children already waiting for you.

"done- oop, my bag." heeseung rolls your eyes as you approaches the bedside table to pick up the bag that you had prepared.

heeseung stands up as he brings the two babies into their car seats before you both lift them up respectively to the car's back seat—settling them down with the instructions you are familiar with by now. you give a long sigh and sit at the front seat as the car heats up the machine.

"we're probably going to arrive there late," he said, hands holding onto the sterring wheel.

"i mean, your outfit is really easy. your minecraft skin?"

"we could do a family halloween costume, but you already promised to coordinate with your girls. hence, i'm doing the same with my boys."

"i would love to do that next halloween."

a hand reaches for your thigh as you follow it to see heeseung's smirk already appearing. "there'll be a next time, huh?"

"you're stuck with me 'until the heat death of the universe', right?" you reminded him of his own words as you both chuckle. his hand grabbing onto the stick and move it to drive as the car moves forward. "you've send the link to the group chat?"

"yeah, when we were waiting for you. it is mostly your doing so i'll be the one doing the talking," heeseung answered as the car drove out of the parking lot onto the street.

"you don't need to be that serious. it's just a friendly presentation night with the others, but we're doing it together." you lean back against the seat as heeseung continues to give a squeeze on your thigh. a small click coming from his lips.

"you do remember that we are competitive as fuck, (y/n)? even if i go easier on you, it doesn't mean i will do the same with the others." you sighed with his answers, finding the familiar fiery eyes he has on even with a small glance. your hand reaches for his on your thigh, giving him your answer without words as you check on the twins in the back seat.

the car arrives at heeseung's former apartment complex before he moved in with you. jimin was already standing by the parking lot as he approached the parked car when heeseung went out and gave him a huge hug, guiding him to you as he helps carry siah's car seat alongside heeseung with siwoo's.

for this year's halloween, the gang—with the addition of yunjin and jaehyuk as the ones filling in in both of your old rooms and many of your closest friends—wanted it more to be a small get together like the new year's party you both were also invited to: filled with the same faces that you won't probably see during the winter break and eventually, the graduation.

squeels come as you opened the door to the apartment you haven't step in a while to be greeted with yunjin and minjeong who approaches you, arms wide in giving you a tight hug as you look as minjeong's clawdeen and yunjin's draculaura's outfits.

"where are my nephew and niece?" you heard the sound of your long-time best friend who comes in with her ghoulia outfit including her glasses. ryujin arrives as she crouches in front of the car seats where siwoo and siah are seated, leaving them behind to her and you as heeseung greets his boys as jeongin gave him a diamond sword to add to his costume property.

with the main agenda of the whole get-together being the presentation night, the wheel of names calls the name of beomgyu and ryujin before being followed by chaeryeong and jimin to then you and heeseung. the twins settled down on minjeong and jeongin's laps as they played around with them. your eyes focusing on the screen-shared tv as you let out a chuckle on the title of their presentation.

"the desperation of choi beomgyu vs the nonchalantness of shin ryujin," said the girl, speaking in a gradiose tone as you can't help but let out a chuckle because of your involvement in this. however, not the sweetest one, as you can already feel a little tug on your heartstrings at what will be mentioned. your eyes move around to find heeseung's on yours, a look of worry recognisable on his face before he picks himself up and asks chaeryeong in her cleo de nile outfit if he can sit beside you. his hands instantly hold yours, relaxing your shaking hands in his warm hold as you brace for what is to come in the presentation.

"the thing is, (y/n) had a crush on beomgyu for a while, and i genuinely didn't know that the reason he was visiting our place was because he was looking for me. i might have a feeling that it was because beomgyu reciprocate her feelings that he came every week, other than following heeseung's want." ryujin candidly speaks—something that you love about her as she just can't seem to hide something that could resolves somenone's conflict, inside and out.

"and when (y/n) and heeseung had a big fight, she came to me and confessed her feelings. and, i have to say no. other than my focus in pining for ryujin, i just knew that by that time, my best buddy here," beomgyu points to heeseung with an open palm, "was already catching feelings for (y/n)."

"you did?" you turned to face heeseung, his eyes looking at beomgyu before you, and he nods.

"when we opened up to each other, i realized how bad it feels to be treated like that for a long time. then with the whole pregnancey too."

"yet you don't plan on telling me that?" you pushed back to his words, creating a few whoops before giggles as you also let out a smile, knowing how funny this all is. the pout formed on your lips added more to the faux sadness you want the others to see as heeseung pulls you to him.

"hey, hey," he kisses your temple, "in the end, i'm here, right? i'm your boy, baby." you hummed to his answer as you could see ryujin and beomgyu grimacing from your affectionate display.

"you two do it too." you glare at them teasingly while the other couple in the room—minjeong and sungchan—remain unscathed in this whole ordeal.

after chaeryeong and jimin's enlightening presentation about the hardest dance style they have to dance inside and outside of their current studio, you opened the slides you have edited to be met with oohs and ahhs, then chuckles as they see the familiar faces of the presenters as children.

"how we (former basketball players) will assign your positions in a basketball team," heeseung says the title as he is even startled by the picture you put at the start: your pictures in middle school when you both still play basketball. your nose bridge has a bandage right across it as heeseung is holding a basketball by his right arm. you both looked so done with each other as you remembered the smiles your mom had behind his mom who is taking the picture.

"god, you both look so disgusted standing beside each other," chaeryeong mumbles as she continues to laugh as the presentation continues. some of the thoughts written here are from little conversations you have with heeseung from walking across each other, finishing another level of it takes two, or some spoken when you both are so close to sleep. heeseung knew that sungchan would be a good center because of his tall stature, and you chimed in with minjeong being small forward. the funny thing is that you argue a lot with him about where jeongin is supposed to be.

"he's a good shooter. i played with him before."

"but he is also great with his reflexes. he is a practically pro gamer at his point because of streaming."

heeseung can only chuckle as he sees little inclusions of photos from when you were children to his photo from the decelis team. in the last slide as you present, his gaze at the picture of when you were both in elementary school standing side-by-side in your basketball jerseys with the same design. he can't help but look at his twins, seeing a glimpse of the faces in the picture in their still chubby faces.

"any questions?" you call out as you see eunseok lift his hand up.

"i didn't know you were a basketball player before, (y/n). why'd you stop?"

you let out a thin smile to his question, eyes already moving to heeseung who stands before you with his head turned back to observe. "it's because of heeseung, actually. at some point in our life-long rivalry, i got tired of keeping up with him and decided to stop basketball in high school to go on my own path."

"because i'm the better one between us with basketball." said boy responds as you roll your eyes, "but (y/n) here still has some chops on the court. i've seen it myself and her advice actually made us won the last basketball season."

jimin also raises his hand as you point at him, "do you want to teach your kids basketball someday?"

both of you look towards the twins, who are now sitting on auntie minjeong and uncle sungchan's laps, respectively. their wide eyes are looking expectantly at you both as you could see siah looking at the screen behind you, a glimpse to seeing her parents when they are closer to her age.

heeseung caress on your lower back captures your attention as he gives a small tilt on his head. "i think it would be good to teach them basketball as soon as possible, right, baby? especially since our lease ended next march."

"but you'll be the one paying for the rings and balls and stuff. and…" you peck his cheek, "that's a confirmation that you will help me teach them how to walk."

your comment creates more laughter as you teasingly show your tongue to him and evade his kiss as you end your presentation and sit down, letting minjeong give you both siwoo and siah as they lean their heads against your torso. heesseung's arm rests behind you on the couch as he scoots closer.

-

"wakey-wakey, baby."

heeseung groan as he felt kisses on his puffy face, hands wrapping around his chest as he slowly opened his eyes to see a blurry view of a figure before him. all he could do was give a small smile as he felt a peck on his lips.

"we get around an hour and a half to check out from the hotel. come on," the voice calls to him as he is being pulled up to sit upright. heeseung blows some raspberries before he blinks away the blurriness to find you with your fluffy bed hair, trying to not let your heavy eyelids win against your consciousness. after all, it is your last day in osaka before moving to another city.

genuinely, heeseung felt bad to be outside of the country only with you. but his parents and yours are so happy to have their grandchildren stay with them more. the twins also seem to enjoy it—though you always remind them to not treat them too much. a japan trip is something you and heeseung decided on at the last minute, but it is more in a way that you have also choke him with japanese movies akin to nobody knows, such as drive my car and all about lily chou-chou. you do have to sacrifice much of your schedule to heeseung, who is already noting osaka as his main destination because of mainly universal studios with the harry potter and nintendo area.

you both spend the whole day there, utilizing the expensive tickets for the rides in both harry potter and nintendo areas. he takes a picture of you in the recreation of the hogwarts castle with your house robe alongside the slytherin robe that he is wearing. he was the one who bought the hats from nintendo world with you and your luigi hat, and he with his mario's: completing the look. even for a trip around a week, you've learned more about him because of your situation outside of your comfort zone. he is surprised by your basic knowledge of the japanese language—courtesy of the media you consumed. but he also surprised you by how gentle he is throughout the trip, not interjecting as much as he usually does.

the train ride to kyoto was filled with clear blue skies as you lean against his shoulder with his own rubbing against your arm. the autumn weather added more to the scenery as the colors of the leaves changed and fell, yet some greenery stayed in few specks on the earth. your eyes settled on the moving buildings outside of the wall as you could feel heeseung's steady breaths from the nap he is taking.

during the trip, you both don't really talk as much and enjoy each other's company. with every glance shared between the two of you, you could communicate what you want. you both walked around the neighborhood where the accommodation is: a small cabin by the river overlooking the much more fuller side of kyoto along with a glimpse of its castles and temples. your phone is held in your hand as you can't help but to take a picture of the street you are in—the last lush greenery before autumn brushs it away along with the little glimmer of lights from the wet streets of rain. as you bowed your head at the caretaker who gave you the key, you opened the door to find a quaint house complete with a kitchen and a patio at the back where you can take a look at the beuatiful scenery—something that you will enjoy later in the day.

heeseung's attention is always on you as you both walk around the castle at the center of kyoto, taking picture of you in his mind as you gracefully sightsee and take pictures of what you take interests in. the cold weather brushes against his warm cheeks as he follows you around like you do him back in universal studios—reacting to the mundane things you like about the city itself. much different than what a city like osaka has to offer.

he always has his eyes on you as you look around a small market selling homemade items from pottery to arts that he can't help but to take pictures of candidly, adding to a gallery full of pictures of you he had in his phone. something that heeseung from one year ago would not even comprehend to even make.

you both carried a few groceries back home after eating dinner at a delicious ramen restaurant for your breakfast for the next three days. the sun rays pushing through the branches as you take in the orange of the sunset sky. heeseung keeping up beside you as you two walk slowly—letting you take in the atmosphere.

"i think it's nice if we can find a neighborhood like this for a place to stay. just," you paused before turning your head. "somewhere quaint. it doesn't have to be exactly like this."

"a place where the twins can walk around and we can just live slowly," heeseung added as you hummed.

"you want that? living slowly?" you furrowed your eyebrows at his statement, eyes looking at how even adulting and being a dad has affected him with the dark circles under his eyes from uncertain time of sleep.

"someday. we have to grind to get that though. we barely finish uni and we're thinking about so much. maybe, we can invest in something too. i don't know…" you felt a nudge on your hand from him, "you're the business student out of the two of us. what do you think?"

"i think," you cleared your throat, "investing in something could be good. it doesn't have to be stock because it fluctuates so much. i think gold will be good because it increases every time because of rarity. it's just," shaking your head, you eyed heeseung as you are approaching your accomodation—the light rain landing on your skin. "we now have to think about the future. not just for us now, but for the twins too in their next 18 years of life, and maybe even our legacy that will be with them after we die."

heeseung had a small smile on his face after you mentioned the twins before it quickly turned into something comical, "this is actually the most mature you have ever sounded."

"shush!" you nudge his shoulders as he giggles behind you, jogging towards your cabin as you open the front door to let your hands finally rest.

drinking the warm broth, you both sit on the back patio decorated by the sound of rain pitter-pattering against the roof and the land. the gloomy color gives you more comfort as the green colors pop more from the scenery. heeseung gazes at the heavy raindrops as the tension he carries seems to dissipate along with the flowing water. his ears waiting for your follow up on your conversation.

"so, in conclusion: is the 2024 olympics good?"

"that," heeseung points out, even with his hand showing towards you, "has so many subjective answers that i still even try to figure out."

"hey, you're the one that is saying to me that your company tasks you to create content about the olympics, even for youtube. i supposed you have your opinion about it." you put down your bowl on the small table, tucking your knees to your chest.

"well, if you want an honest opinion of mine…"

"yeah?" your tone showing curiosity.

"i actually like the paralympics better. so many categories within one category that you can talk about. it has much more camaraderie, even between the athletes. plus, i do really like watching wheelchair basketball and goalball. like, the limitations don't stop them." heeseung took a small peek at you before focusing on the scenery before him; the words you've spoken stuck in his mind.

yes, heeseung can see himself living his life in a place like this. maybe he could be a local radio dj and curate local and independent artists like beomgyu and his band. maybe he could be a coach for a small group of kids that fell in love with sports—he doesn't mind learning more about sports other than basketball. maybe he could be a local reporter, journaling every news, both good and bad, for everyone to know. maybe-

"heeseung?"

his inner tangent stopped itself as he turned his body around, looking at how you are holding onto a small box in hand as he furrowed his eyebrows instantly. "(y/n) what-"

"i'm not proposing to you- fuck- okay, hi, um…" you peer down at the box before letting out a huge exhale. "when we were in the market, i found these cute rings. it's thin but it is shaped like a mobius strip, which i think looks cool as fuck."

he holds back on his chuckles as you continue, eyes looking between the box and your face, "i, uh, buy them. for us." you open the box, showing him two thin bands of ring that is like what you described. you scoot closer to him, letting his eyes observe the rings before peering back at you.

"think of it as a promise ring of sorts because…" you flick your eyes away from him, letting him observe your side profile. "as much as i don't want to acknowledge it, you've been there my whole life. as a rival, borderline enemies, a friend, and now a romantic partner. and i just can't see myself living my life without you in it, even if you are freaking annoying. um…"

the big smile on your face as you talked about you two's relationship slowly faded as you cleared your throat, "well, i think this is a promise from me about what you talked months ago. until the heat death of the fucking universe."

he slowly picks up the ring as he gently twist it between his fingers. an amused look on his face as he looks back at you, smiling with an awkward grin and panic eyes. but, he melts it away as he kisses the corner of your mouth.

"here, let me help you." he gently holds your hand as he pushes the ring by your middle finger until it rests by the edge. you placed the box on your lap as you picked up the other ring and slipped it onto heeseung's middle finger, him folding the other fingers and making you giggle.

"it's us against the world, baby." he shows the middle finger up into the grey sky. laughter flying between the two of you as you show your middle finger as well, high up to become the center point of your vision.

heeseung turns his head to face you as he leans forward and catches your attention with a little peck, making you turn your head around as you gaze at him.

"i love you, (l/n)(y/n)."

your eyebrows raised when hearing his words. "i…" his word trails before he lets out a huge smile. a sincere look in his eyes that seems to washed away your doubt as you could feel your eyes starting to water.

"it's true what beomgyu said ever since the start of your pregnancy. but it… grows to us being tolerable with each other, then becoming comfortable, and then becoming open with each other. and," he looks down at the ring adorning his finger, "i always thought i never outwardly call it love. but it is, and your promise ring solidified that-"

his words got cut out as you leaned in to kiss him, a huge smooch before you pulled back and placed your hand on top of his. then, you pushed yourself to stand up, pulling him with you as the rain continued, adding the calmness of the background to your moment with each other.

you brought him to your shared bedroom. the futons the caretaker has said to you both lay down for you to sleep on. but it became a background to your response to heeseung. his eyes still looking at the comfy futon as you turn his head to face yours. he breathes in, letting the scent of you enter him as he puts his hands on your waist like you are on his nape.

"i love you, lee heeseung," you whispered against his lips, letting him feel every movement of the words that you said before giving him a short yet huge kiss.

"let me show it to you." your hands already reaching inside his top, feeling the planes of muscles formed even with some fat in them.

"we only have futons-"

"futons are enough," you answered by his ear. his arms reach up as you pull the top upwards to the ends of his head and hands. a hand reaches to the middle of his chest—feeling how he breathes—before you move to your right. his heartbeat sensed and connects with your pulse.

heeseung's breath is taken away as you push him down on the futon. his arms are pushing against it, holding himself upright. his eyes peering up to you as you peel away your top slowly, making him gulping down his saliva. then, you kneeled down, hand reaching for his nape to bring him back to your kisses—softly caressing his jaw as he can feel how you furrowed your eyebrows to send the sincerity of the love you have for him.

he leans his head back, showing the expanse of his neck that you let your kisses trail down. his groans are covered by the heavy rain, letting him be more open and loud about it. your hand also trails down his torso, rubbing against his nipples before trailing in between his muscles. heeseung looks down at your moving head, feeling the warmth with every touch as you peer your head up to look at him, kissing his evident bulge beneath his jeans.

button and zipper opened up as heeseung lets you pull away his jean pants and boxers, his hardening cock springing up as you spit your palm before stroking him. his hand reached for your hair, brushing it away as he felt how your mouth enraptured the head of his cock. saliva gathering as you brush them along the tip as you then give a suck, heeseung's hand reaches for your cheek and then the jaw.

"love-" he called out. he called out to you as he could feel the hand holding him upright weaken. eyes peering at the way his cock sinks into your cavern along with the slurping sound that added to the sensation of your tounge on the underside. his groans follow along with your own, observing how one of your hands is slipping into your open pants and brushes yourself against the fingers. his eyes widened as he looked at how you pushed yourself downward more, taking him deeper as he could hear you gag, pulling away from him as strings of saliva connected your lips to his member.

you lick them up against your swollen lips, letting him focus his sight on your voice as you stand up, pushing your pants and underwear down in an instant before joining his pants into the pile of clothes by the door of the bedroom. the rain still continues pouring as you can't help but feel just how wet you are and how eager heeseung is by grabbing onto your calves to pull you down.

pushing him back to lay completely down on the futon, his hands move to your waist as you sit on his lap, brushing yourself against his shaft as he heard your whimpers. his heart feels so full and intoxicated for you as the grazes of his hand with the promise ring runs against your warm skin from the lust. then, you reach for his cock as you brace yourself upwards, sliding it around your slit until you find your lower lips, spreading it open with his tip.

"i love you," you say in such a gentle voice, eyes looking at his face before upwards at the ceiling as you sink down onto his cock slowly, letting him feeling every ridge of your walls as they suck on him. both of you let out a moan, your body stretched all out from the sensation as you finally unclasp your bra and letting them fall onto his abdomen. you move them away as you lean your arm against his chest, lifting yourself up and then down to sink him deeper into you until he felt your cervix.

"baby, i love you." he echoes your words with his own sincerity, hands moving up and down your upper body as he lets you take control of the pace, enticing you with his caress against your sensitive nipples. heeseung gazed at how you try to hold yourself by biting your bottom lip, both hands that were on his pectorals now only left one as the other moves to hold onto his knees. your hips now moving in an upward motion, his tip nearing from slipping out until it did from the wetness, making you both groan by the sudden emptiness before you push the shaft back as the head gently moves along your slit and nudge into the hole as you let it pierce into you once again.

your moans started to get louder as heeseung's hands become more frantic. that is when he pushes himself to sit up and embrace you fully in his hold, making your hand move to his shoulders as he gives a suck on the nipple, tasting the sweetness from your breast milk that spills out from how you ride him.

"heeseung…" you gasped, making him lift his head up from the other nipple as you rested your forehead against his, eyes drooping down because of the pleasure as you stayed in contact no matter how close. his hands move to your bottom, helping you by pushing you upwards as you melt away on his cock.

"i'm gonna cum-" your voice whispers against him, making him more determined to chase his high for you as he fold his legs and grind his heels on the ground before he pushes his hips upward, making you both fall on the momentum as you now lay on top of him skin to skin.

his hand reaches to your cheek, rubbing slightly against your butthole before he presses the rim of your lower lip, feeling every movement both you and he are doing as your kisses press against his cheek. heeseung felt how his eyes are rolling backwards into his skull from your orgasm making your lips and walls grip so tight on him, his groans a telling sign for you of his climax as you feel his cum flowing inside of you.

but he doesn't stop and he pushes so that you now laying on the futon. your grip loose yet on his shoulders as you let go for him to take control. legs wrapped on his back as he sets the pace for one more for the both of you. loud moans and groans are replaced with softer whimpers and whines as heeseung deliciously moves into you, as slow as possible as he etched your walls into his mind. your wide eyes gaze at him, your lips mouthing numerous "i love you"s that he can feel when his lips brush yours, connecting them for you to know he will also flaunt that to you. both of your lips brushing against each other whilst saying "i love you" as he increases his pace.

his hand reaches for yours, connecting the rings with each other as he interlocks the fingers between yours. your face is writhing in pleasure, eyes don't want to close to focus back on heeseung. hips moved to different angles so he could reach it all as the rain continues to pour into the raven night—becoming the background of the show of your love to each other until it finally stops.

-

your eyes stayed on the promise finger hanging on your middle finger before a tap on your shoulders startle you, making you turn around to face your best friend. her eyes seems to gleam with tears of joy as she looks down at your outfit and the graduation gown.

"no, no, don't cry again, ryu-"

she wrapped her arms around your shoulder before flinging you around. her hands holding onto her hat as you are with yours. you pat your hand on the back, the sentimentality of it all coming back to you because of how it will become rare to even see ryujin again after being with her for around seven years since high school.

"we haven't even done the ceremony yet," you stated a fact.

"yeah, but i'm going to miss you so much, (y/n). i genuinely miss you after you moved out like a year ago. even with heeseung and his icks." she also stated her fact as you giggled.

"you'll do great like, you graduated uni and already become a creative director for txt? i can't wait to see what you'll do to them in the future. don't cut beom's hair though."

she rolled her eyes at your comment before replying, "he is the one that's going to force to make him cut his hair. but i think he does look good in any haircut."

"don't be all whipped for beomgyu in front of me." you playfully hit her as she wraps her arm around your shoulder.

"don't be like that with heeseung too, lovely." she nudges your cheek with her nose as you gaze at the auditorium where the graduation ceremony will be done. the shadows of the afternoon clear sky pools the ground as ryujin has taken a photo of it with you for her instagram. you both approach your girls, chaeryeong and minjeong, who also wear their own graduation gowns. yunjin is away as she is picking up kazuha so she can give the flower to both her and you.

"wow, we graduating, huh?" minjeong says, her wispy hair touching her cheeks from the wind.

"i'm really, really going to miss you guys so much," chaeryeong says as her hand is placed on the lower part of your back before she continues, "we still are going to do that project, right? the la la land-esque movie?"

you giggled at her questions as minjeong raised her eyebrows as you recalled the scene. a drunken conversation with two bottles of wine in your apartment resulting in a brainstorming idea of making a movie musical similar to la la land. minjeong is handling the movie production and directing, chaeryeong is creating the choreography of it all, ryujin, with her design and creativity, is going for the marketing tactics for posters and such where she works alongside you, who is producing all of it. remembering that project you discussed in your second year reminds you of how these girls are going to be your ride or die even after graduation and you all go your separate ways in life.

"we need to make that happened. our two-year-old dream project. we can even have txt fill in the soundtrack and the rest of the boys help with the script. fully independent." you echoed chaeryeong who is already tugging you in her embrace.

"your business-minded thoughts are flowing, (y/n). gonna have to note that in my phone, wait a sec." ryujin chuckles as minjeong pulls out her phone to actually jot down your sayings, making you pout at her familiar action.

"i'll be missing you, guys." you open your arms wide as they step in. your head on minjeong's shoulder with left arm around chaeryeong and right arm with ryujin. a very tight and warm hug with so many emotions as you also heard the sobs coming from them.

"okay, distraction: where's your babies?" chaeryeong says as she pulls away, staring at you as she wiped her tears away from the corner of her eyes.

"they're with my parents probably this way." you pointed towards the graduate parents supposed to gather at, focusing on searching for the bow you put in siah's hair that is similar in color to the outfit you are wearing. your eyes enlarged as you see what you're looking for, held by heeseung's dad as you arrived there with your girl squad.

"there's mama." uncle lee said as siah's squeal caught your attention before looking to the side to see siwoo in your dad's hold. your mom and heeseung's mom are locking arms as they seemed to walk around the crowd.

"siah!"

"siwoo!"

their aunties gathered for them as you give uncle lee and your dad an exasperated sigh before asking, "where's heeseung?"

"i am here," said boy replying as he wrapped his arm in front of you, pulling you backwards as he kisses the side of your head. turning around, you see heeseung with his boys as they approach the twins. his gown covering the shirt he decided to matched up with your outfit.

hands trailing to the collar, you smoothed down the front of the gown before saying, "you look good, baby."

"so do you, love." he leans to give a peck on your lips before turning your body around to face your friends and families.

"good, you both are here," auntie lee calls to you, still walking beside mom before they both hold onto their phones.

"we got to have a picture of you four, and maybe we can help with your friends also," your mom added.

"we can also help with taking a picture for the family, auntie," beomgyu said as jeongin nodded his head beside him.

"perfect! we have to go fast before the ceremony starts," mom exclaimed as you reached your hand out to carry siwoo while heeseung holds siah. the weight of your baby is far heavier with their growth as they start to be able to grab tight onto the nearest things they can hold.

you settle your body beside heeseung as you tried to make siwoo focus on the camera. that is when you see jimin and minjeong waving their hands behind your mom's stature to capture their attention, making you smile widely at the sight as you pose with heeseung beside you. the first ever family of all four of you, which you want to frame beside both of your diplomas.

-

the framed diploma rested on the wall on top of the table you are tidying in your last touches. the warmth atmosphere of the room combines with the setting sun outside as you turn your body around: admiring the house that you have fully decorated.

with the lease ending in early march, you and heeseung have been searching for a neighborhood you think you can live in. good for you both, but also good for the twins. the search commences even before your graduation, using the place you stayed at in kyoto as a perfect frame of reference. with heeseung's position much more in shape as he is now being brought onto the fields and courts to interview coaches and players, plus to accommodate for your job now but also wanting to have a sense of calmness: you both decide to pick a suburban area that is pretty close to public transport.

and so, when you see a sale sign in front of a house that has a backyard at the end in a quaint neighborhood as you both drive around, you can see the place as your home instantly.

you both are lucky that both his and your parents are very supportive of the decision—"of course, we are. cause you both are our only child and you will then inherit our assets." dad says which uncle lee also agrees with—that they also help you deal with the bank for a loan for the house which you both will have pay off in 10 years. both of you are much more determined when clear objectives are set as you helped prepare in the home economics side of things such as savings for your family's day-to-day lives and the twins' education.

eyes gazing at the house that is fully decorated, you watch the twins play with their toys in the living room. siah is crawling around to go to siwoo, who is playing with a sensory toy. your vision then moves to the set up of the large television on the table where heeseung's consoles settle there beside a shelf full of board games and card games. you could already imagine spending much of your free time here.

looking back at the door leading to the backyard, you are met with heeseung's apparition as he stands there, making you follow him there.

the backyard itself is pretty big and there are garden beds where you could try to garden some vegetables. it is connected to the carpark where your car and heeseung's car are parked. a basketball ring stands tall there with the little one beside it as you can imagine heeseung working out his skills and even asking you to play a 1 vs 1 game with him other than his workout equipment by the patio.

"hey…" you called out, making heeseung turn his head at you.

"hey," he replies with a smirk on his face before he looks away. you both don't really need words to communicate with each other anymore, as even spending time doing other things is enough. knowing deep down that heeseung seems to need space to take in the new house he will come home to.

your eyes have already gazed at the corner of the backyard that will look good with a tree. imagining the big shade of the many leaves added more to the comfort of the home.

"what do you think-" your words are cut off after you see what happened when you turned your head.

heeseung, kneeling down in front of you, his gleaming promise ring sits on top of a velvet box.

"(l/n)(y/n). even with our rich and complex history, you have always been there. seeing me in my highs and lows even though you tease them a lot. i can't see myself living without you. so here i am," a chuckle comes out from him as you echoed with your own, "asking you if you want to be my eternal life rival even after death tears us away from each other."

a pout showing on your lips as your eyes are heating up and tears threatening to fall out when you heard the very words as he flips the velvet box, showing you the ring in the same color as your promise rings.

"will you marry me?"

a sigh came out from you as you nodded, kneeling down in front of him as you gave him a huge embrace. his chuckles tingles before he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, breaking down in front of you as you can't help of the amount of pressure he has althrough out this.

hands on either side of his head, you give him a sizzling kiss before leaning your forehead against his. looking downwards, you find the engagement ring he bought for you as your observation on the details makes your heartstrings tug more. the band is as thin as your promise ring but the gleaming metal doesn't stop there. a flower is also made from metal: a combination of both siwoo and siah's representation in your lives.

as heeseung slip the ring into your left hand's ring finger, your eyes caught onto the movement of your babies as they crawl to approach you. both of your arms open to gather them in your arms as you look at them climbing onto yours and heeseung's lap, respectively. looking at their faces, you could already guess that this will be your whole world.

-

"happy birthday to you!" the song rings as you sing while holding siah in your arms, your eyes gaze at the minimalist decoration for the twins' first birthday and also a house warming party for your family and friends, all from your gang of 8, the rest of your same year first friends, the decelis basketball team players, to even both of your extended families.

"blow the candle!" your mom calls out as you lean forward alongside heeseung, helping to blow the flame out as the wick is near the single candle representing their one year of life. siah seems to follow your lips as you blow away the fire before facing you with that expression. the cake that you homemade stands there cutely before you let them taste the cream whilst cutting it for the guests.

the twins stand whilst holding on the short coffee table as they lick up the cream you gave them, seeing their eyes widening from the sweet taste before they show their smiles before speaking up for you. but, then they started to wiggle their butts together that almost makes you faint as heeseung holds onto to you after placing the cake onto the plate.

you let the twins go around the house, already babyproofing much of your pieces of furniture as their new form of skills of walking is taking over. siwoo was the first one taking his baby steps, walking from the tv table towards you who is relaxing on the sofa before recording it to give to heeseung who is out with his friends. then, siah also has her baby steps on the same day as she lets go of your guidance hand when she approaches her kneeling father to hug him—something you both have been training them to do when one of you comes home.

little shrieks came about from the guests as they looked at the birthday twins walking around the house, playing around with the numerous people there as you and heeseung settled to eat the cake before he tended to the house warming and birthday gifts.

the room is filled with people both you and heeseung are thrilled to see. even your school friends you still keep in touch with are still shocked to see you both together. your hand plays with the engagement ring as you hide them, saving the information for it all at the right time as you and your now-fiance still wear your promise ring to wad off any suspicions. a smile lifts your face as you look across the living room, dining room, and kitchen that are opened with each other.

"they grew up so fast, right?"

a voice asks you as you turn to find beomgyu, a sheepish smile on his face.

"yeah. can't believe they can walk now, even if they are still shaky."

beomgyu hums. the evident awkwardness still flows between you, especially after what happened on halloween when you saw heeseung in a new light. but other than that, you could still see how guilt is eating the boy up, especially after he finally gets the girl that he dreamed of.

"i forgive you, beom," you reply with his nickname, "all of it. i just think that if we still think about all that happened, we won't ever move on."

"i know. i didn't realise i was that easy to read," beomgyu leans his head down, eyes focusing on the promise ring on your right hand.

"hey, no matter what. i still see you as a friend. you are my best friend's boyfriend and i would not stop teasing you for it like you both do to me and heeseung." you both chuckles at your answer as you tap him on the chest with your pointer finger. "besides, if txt has 0 fans, that means i am dead."

the party continues as you introduce the rooms of the house to your friends and family members until evening comes, and you wave goodbye to heeseung's and your parents as the last guests that leave after helping out with cleaning the food and some floor decorations. eyes on the twins, who are already drooping to go to sleep. you both wait for each other to end the day by taking a deserving shower before preparing them to sleep, letting heeseung tuck the two himself.

"i think that's that, right?" you replied to his request, hands already tucking the ends of the blankets as you could also feel how sleepy you are.

"there are many more that you have left, but a summary doesn't always have to include everything."

you roll your eyes and reply with, "you and your pedanticness."

heeseung gives you another kiss on the temple as he snuggles closer to you before fully wrapping his arms around you. even with sleepy eyes, you still grabbed onto your phone as you haven't caught up with the last few hours, especially after you posted something on instagram as his comment that actually makes you have to pull him aside to talk about.

"one more look at your post 'cause i think they have caught onto the big news."

"your fault for actually commenting. i was actually thinking of doing a pretty hard launch by just giving them an invitation of the wedding." you guffawed with him as he tucks his shoulders.

"which we still have to plan for and then the honeymoon and such," heeseung mumbles into the crook of your neck as you press open the app.

"one step at the time, love." you lean your head close to him as you show him the post and the comment section that earns laughter for you both, satisfying enough for you two to end the day with.

taglist: @raeyunshm @leilasmom @evidive @boba-beom @kwiwin @heesw1fe @aloverga @endzii23 @fluffyywoo @camipendragon @hiqhkey @wccycc @cha0thicpisces @y4wnjunz @yeehawnana @beansworldsstuff @kimipxl @blurryriki @amazzwon @sunpov @ineedsomezzz @reallysmolrenjun @stealanity @deobitifull @mheretoreadff @gandaengene @amaraeofsunshine @nyxtwixx

laurel hell taglist: @possibly-zoe0218 @enhypenilycometoaus @jaysupremacy @jungwoneez @erenshawtybae @nctislifue @vixensss @smilefordongil @lhspeachie @b9chira

[myloveer0]

''Dream at first lust''

(Ambessa x reader NsFw)😭🥵❤️

(Part II is here..!!)

18+ Read it at your own risk!

---Imagine waking up in the middle of the night, only to find Ambessa standing before you. What would you do?---

I want Ambessa so bad guys! I'm scared of myself!!

Note: Thanks for waiting, everyone! I've been busy with college lately, but I still made time to update this story. I’ve already finished drafting the next two chapters, and all I’ll say is that—the next chap is where the spice gets even spicier! I can’t stop giggling Ugh! 🥵🔥🔥🔥

“I-it’s not what it looks like,”. It was all you could think to say.

Ambessa only looked at you, her lips curving. She tossed the phone back onto the bed with a casual flick of her wrist, the screen landing face down. The flashlight blinked off, plunging the room into darkness again.

Your heart raced as you scrambled, crawling across the bed to switch on the lamp beside the bed. Warm light flooded the room, but it only made things worse.

You froze, a curse slipping from your lips as your eyes found her once again.

Ambessa was still standing there, proud and tall, but the warm light didn't make things better it only made the room sensual in your eyes—the way the warm light illuminate her silk robe clung to her figure, the deep plunge exposing a delicious, taunting glimpse of her cleavage. The loose folds of fabric shifted just enough to expose her long, toned leg, smooth and strong. God! Help! Why is she so fine...

Your face burned, your breath hitching as heat rushed through your body. Can't believe your eye fucking her. You knew you should look away, but you couldn’t. She was a goddess made to attract everyone and you were one of it's victim.

Ambessa noticed. Of course, she noticed.

“I’ve seen enough, child,” she said smoothly, her voice cutting through the silence. Her lips curved into a small, wicked smile, her gaze locked onto you. “I was wondering why you couldn’t even look at me properly. But now... I think I understand.”

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re wrong…” you said weakly.

“Oh, don’t play coy,” Ambessa murmured, her voice dipping into a sultry purr. Her mind was set—no excuse you gave would change her mind.

“I’ve seen that look before,” she continued, stepping closer. Making sure to have a good look of you. “A mix of fear and… hunger.”

Ambessa's words hit you like a thunderclap, and you couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. She leaned forward slightly, her robe shifting just enough to reveal half of her cleavage as if teasing you at more of the skin you already couldn’t stop staring at.

“You have a fascination,” Ambessa continued, her voice soft but deliberate and inspecting how you stare at her chest. “In ways you shouldn’t.”

Your chest tightened, your head spinning with embarrassment, arousal, and desperation.

“I—” but nothing else came you. Words failed you completely under her gaze. Ambessa knew exactly how much power she held over you—knew the effect she had, the way her presence alone unraveled you. And from the way she reacted, she wasn’t denying it for a second. She liked it.

She chuckled softly, “Don’t worry, child,” she said, her voice wrapping around you.. “I find it... amusing. Endearing, even.”

“P-please, just stop talking for a minute,” you stammered, your voice cracking as you buried your face in your hands, wishing the earth would open up and swallow you whole.

Ambessa’s chuckle was soft but unmistakably amused. “Besides,” she said, her tone sharp yet teasing, “you already look guilty enough.”

You glanced up at her, confusion written all over your face. “What… what do you mean?”

Ambessa didn’t reply. Instead, she turned and began to pace the room, her steps deliberate and calm. Like she didn't transported in a strange place. Her movements carried a grace, her robe shifting slightly as she walked, revealing tantalizing glimpses of her powerful legs. She stopped at the curtain, her hand pulling it aside. The city unfolded before her—a glittering sea of lights and towering skyscrapers against the night sky.

You watched her closely, noting the way her expression flickered between confusion and curiosity. Her sharp eyes scanned the skyline, taking in the overwhelming modernity before her. She looked like someone completely out of time, out of place. She was as confused as you on how she mysteriously appreared in a strange place.

Ambessa gaze didn’t leave the window. Before she continue, “You’ve delved into yourself deeply tonight. Shamelessly, even.” She turned her head slightly to look at you, her piercing eyes finding yours once again. “Enough to present yourself with such… confidence.”

Her words carried a weight you didn’t fully understand, but the way her gaze shifted—her dark eyes trailing over you—made your stomach twist. You slowly glanced down at yourself, your heart stopping your eyes widen in disbelieve the realization hit you like a freight train.

You were naked.

Oh shit!

H-how can you be so clueless! You’d forgot how you fallen asleep in nothing but a tight red strap tube, the fabric clinging to your skin and leaving absolutely nothing. No bra, Your nipples, hard and proudly percking clearly visible, pressed against the thin fabric, announcing themselvesto the person infront of them aching for her attention. You were dressed slutty and downright scandalous and Ambessa wasn't shy to stare at you.

Heat rushed to your face, your entire body burning with humiliation as you let out a startled squeal, grabbing at the bedsheet and pulling it over yourself in a panic.

“No. No, no, no, no,” you muttered frantically, wishing this was all a horrible dream. You’d completely forgotten that you’d fallen asleep like this—after… that. You were just flashing yourself with your legs wide open in front of Ambessa, completely forgetting you were naked. Now you want to hit your head for being so stupid.

Ambessa’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she watched you flail, her lips curving. Your assumsion leading she already knew what you did before she appear. Her gaze lingered on you, and it was clear she wasn’t going to let you escape the moment. Your breathing were harder now, and you reaches around the sheets for support.

“Tell me,” she said, her voice low and teasing “Was this all for yourself?” She tilted her head, “Or were you hoping for… company?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. Your throat felt tight and all you could do was clutch the sheet tighter around yourself. The trembling in your body betrayed you, every nerve alight under the weight of her piercing gaze. Mortification mixed with want and needs.

You wanted to admit it. To agree with her, to give in to the pull of your arousal. Every instinct screamed at you that this was the moment—the one your fantasies had been wishing toward.

Your mind wrestled, whispering that maybe this wasn’t real, that it was all a dream your subconscious had conjured to torment. But if it was a dream, why fight it? Why resist? You should enjoy it. Take advantage. Surrender to the magnetic pull of her dominance.

Ambessa chuckled, starting to walk toward you closer this time, making your eyes widen. She stop beside you looking down at you like you were a feast infront of her. Stepping so close to the bed. that you could feel the heat of her presence. Her sweet smell and your arousal getting wild.

“Relax,” Ambessa said, her hand reaching out to tilt your chin upward, forcing you to meet her gaze. The moment her skin brushed yours, a shiver ran down your spine.

Her touch was firm, but not rough. “I’m not angry. or anything... I’m flattered”

Your breath hitched. “Y-you are? ''

“Of course.” Ambessa smirked, “How could I not be? You’re only human, after all. And humans are so predictable when faced with power and lust, aren’t they?”

She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper against your ear. “Tell me... what is it you fantasize about?”

You froze and avoid gaze, your mind a storm of panic, desire, and sheer disbelief. It feels dirty and wrong and your shaking with need.

“Oh, don’t be shy.” She pulled back just enough to look at you again, her expression one of amused curiosity. Her face was so close to yours that you could see the finest detail of her face, and it was enough to make you weak. “I want to hear it. Or...” Her thumb brushed your jaw as she tilted her head thoughtfully. “...should I guess?”

Please, don’t… You knew she already knew what you were thinking, it was all inside the phone and she was just teasing you, fascinated by your reaction. Before you could stop yourself, a question slipped out.

“Do you even want to do it with a woman! ” you blurted out, instantly regretting how uncertain you sounded.

Ambessa paused, one brow arching. Like you just asked a dumb question. She knew exactly what you were doing—grasping for a distraction, anything to shift the tension away. But from the way her lips curled into a smirk, it was clear she wasn’t irritated. If anything, she was entertained.

Arms crossing over her broad chest, she leaned back slightly. Then she chuckled.

“You mean, do I fuck women?” Ambessa repeated, her voice laced with mockery. “Is that what you’re asking, child?”

Your breath hitched at the boldness of her words, and you could only manage a small, mortified nod.

Her dark brown eyes gleamed as she leaned forward again, closing the space between you, suffocating you in the sheer weight of her presence.

“Oh,” she murmured, dragging out the word like a tease. “You don’t know just how much I do.”

The smirk on her lips widened, “I fuck every woman I can get,” she said, her voice thick with unshaken confidence. “Strong, soft, bold, shy—it makes no difference to me. They all have their… charms.”

She tilted her head, watching your reaction before adding, “The only thing that matters is whether they can keep up with me.”

Ohh god please.. you can't take her teasing anymore..

But if it really is.. does she want it to a stranger like you. Why haven't she questioned your identity or be suspicious. On how she mysteriously transported in a whole new dimension. "W-why are you doing this...?'' You asked ''What if I'm really one of the Black Rose, and I dragged you here?" you pressed.

Ambessa’s brows meet and hardened, and her once calm expression turn anger that made your chest tighten. You just made a big mistake. Regret, you didn't just keep your mouth shut.

"Don’t fool me." She straighten “I know the Black Rose. I know what they’re capable of. But you?” She gave you a look of pure contempt, "You are no threat to me. Not by a long shot. You are just a helpless, deluded woman—so desperate to fantasize about being used and discarded by someone like me."

You shifted back, your heart pounding with fear. You hated to admit it, but you were starting to fear her. This was the warlord standing before you. Yet, deep down, you knew you like this side of her.

“You don’t get to play me, child” Ambessa said, her voice sharp, “I’m not as nice as you think I am.”

Her eyes locked onto yours “Don't ever mention and use those words again or else you might not like what i do to you. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you remember exactly who you're dealing with.”

Your throat went dry. You tried to think of something to say, but the words stumbled from your lips. Your eyes started to blurry. You didn't want Ambessa to hate you. “I-I’m sorry, Ambessa. If I upset you�� I just love you so much. And all of this feels like a dream come true. I have this thing, a-and I’m curious ab—”

Ambessa grabbed your jaw to make you look at her. ''No more blabbing child. And when did i permit you to use my name as you please. For now call me my lady.''

You shoke your head in agreement ''y-yes my lady medar-'

Without warning, something thick and long plunged deep into your throat—her fingers, moving in and out, mimicking fucking. Gag you tell your breath hitch. The sensation was intense, almost too much, stealing the air from your lungs. You couldn’t quite catch your breath, the pressure and pace pushing you to your limits. Making your eyes rolled in your eyelids.

F*ck! This is really happening...

Your wide eyes locked onto hers, pleading silently for a moment to process, of the overwhelming intensity. But she offered none—no pause, no mercy. Her remaining fingers clamped tightly around your chin, holding you firmly in place as though daring you to pull away.

"Is that all you can do? Beg for mercy, only to be treated like the whore you’ve always desired? Tell me, this is what you want? right." Ambessa's voice was low, steady, laced with a dangerous kind of softness "Just one word, and I’ll stop all this..." Her gaze bore into you, there was no unspeakable mistake in her eyes, dark and hungry.

You shook your head slowly, trembling not in disagreement, but in desperate plea. You didn’t want her to stop. You couldn’t. Every nerve in your body screamed for more, even as the sensations overwhelmed you. It felt so good it was almost unbearable.

"Use your words, little one," Ambessa murmured, each word sinking into your skin. And just like that, every ounce of restraint in your body dissolved. Her fingers slid out from your mouth, trailing to the corner of your lips, leaving a glistening smear of saliva. You look up at her smitten all over over face.

Oh, God.

"Yes!" The word tore from your lips, trembling with desperation. "F*ck, yes—keep going, don’t stop. My lady... you can do anything you want with me..." you pleaded, clinging to her arm desperately, like a kitten afraid to be abandoned. All that mattered in that moment was your need for her.

A victorious smirk appeared on Ambessa's lips. “Then prove it, little one. Show me how much you want me,” she said, her voice with a mix of seductive.

For a moment, you thought Ambessa might close the distance between you, but instead, she stood up straight and stepped back. Confusion flickered across your face as she dragged your desk chair toward you, the sound of it scraping softly against the floor. Placing it firmly in front of you, before she sat down.

Her legs spread wide, shamelessly confident. Her hands rested casually on the arms of the chair, her fingers tapping lightly as if she were waiting for you to entertain her. In this moment, she looked every bit like a queen surveying her subject, and you were utterly captivated.

“W-what do you want me to do?” you stammered, your voice trembling as you tried to hold yourself together under her piercing gaze.

“Straddle my thigh,” Ambessa said smoothly.

Your heart pounded in your chest as her words settled over you, heat pooling low in your stomach. But still, you hesitated, your body frozen in place, overwhelmed by the intimacy of her command.

You swallowed hard. “Your thigh isn’t what I want, my lady,” you whimpered softly, barely able to meet her gaze. “I want you. Please. Touch me more”

Ambessa’s lips curled into a slow, wicked smile, a glint of amusement dancing in her dark eyes. “My thigh is all you get right now,” she said, her tone teasing yet firm. “You’ll have to prove yourself first. If I’m satisfied, then i may be nice enough to grant your wish..”

[revelboo]

Swindles story "Hangman" is one of my new favs along with vortexs story " I can't decide" I've come to the conclusion I love a messy ass relationship if you have time and still plan on updating that story I would love to read more!-🪻

Sure! 18+ 🌶️

Hangman Pt 6

Swindle x Reader

• Servos swiping across his datapad, deleting three more offers, he grimaces. Two requests for an hourly rate to have access to you, the third an offer to outright buy you for an amount that made his servos tremble slightly before he’d erased it. They really do love you, love watching you play with yourself. Whispering soft nothings as you touch yourself that sound like they’re just for the viewer, those moans and whimpers blasphemously addictive. Glancing at where you’re sleeping on your belly among your pillows, he’d set up a little heat lamp over your setup to better display you, but also to keep it warm enough you can sleep naked. Like now. Setting his datapad aside, he wanders closer.

• Thighs spread slightly and you’re still slick from the last session. “Sweetspark?” He croons, but you’ve exhausted yourself. How easy would it be to climb up there with you, mass shift, free his spike and cover you? So wet you’d take him deep so easily. Shuddering as he imagines the startled little sound you’d make as he buried himself inside you. Would you protest? In his fantasy, you whimper his name and push back against him, taking him deeper into your wet heat, welcoming him. Venting raggedly, he frees his spike and grips himself. Stroking as he imagines how you’d feel under him.

• Stretching out a leg as you come awake, you hear a low growling. Swindle? Pushing yourself up, you look back and freeze. He’s got a hand splayed against your setup, optics shuttered and you can hear him venting. Watching the way he’s rocking, those low, ragged growls, the frantic movements of his arm. Face heating as you realize what he’s doing and you go up on your knees to see what’s hidden by the edge of your counter. Seeing his hand wrapped around his spike, pumping urgently. Know you should pretend to be asleep, to not look, but as his optics open, you’re still staring.

• Frag. Hadn’t wanted to wake you, but it’s more visceral with you watching him stroke himself. “Touch yourself,” he growls, voice strained. Not breaking his rule if he’s not touching you and you’re not touching him. Denta gritting as he stares at your soft body, on the verge of begging you, but then you slide a hand between your thighs to cup yourself. “That’s it.” Fisting his spike, he slides a servo over the head, feeling slick beading there already. And those eyes are locked with his optics as you spear your little fingers inside yourself.

• Breath hitching as you watch his servos slide along the underside of his spike and his biolights pulse lazily, a drop of slick sliding down the length of him. Watching him stroke himself and you pump your fingers inside yourself with a whimper, matching his rhythm. Listening to him encouraging you like he always does when you’re performing. Except this feels different. Is different as you tremble, because have you ever been able to reach that peak from your own fingers alone before? Gasping, your thighs tremble. “Say my name, sweetspark,” he growls voice strained, shuddering when you whisper his name as he comes apart, servos denting the metal counter you’re on. Optics never straying from you as he makes a mess all over the side of the counter.

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Collision 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, blood, injury, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you find yourself in the hands of unexpected saviours after an accident.

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Helmut Zemo

Note: Sorry about the pause.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You ease back into the bed. Bucky’s shadow lingers before you fade into the haze. There you can’t feel the broken bones, thought which ones can’t be discerned from those still intact. It’s too much pain to pick apart one ache from the other. 

When you come to again, the room is dim. The curtains are drawn against the receding hue of afternoon. You groan as you shift. It’s not quite agony yet, but uncomfortable nonetheless.  

You don’t try to move much further than a twitch or a wiggle. You won’t dare. Not if it means this gets worse. 

You stare at the bell. You're uncertain. You remember Bucky, his gentleness, his help. Yet it seems he did this to you all the same. Or rather that man’s he’s with did. Zemo. That name. A criminal. A terrorist. Why would a hero be hanging out with him? 

It hurts too much to think. It doesn’t matter. If they meant you harm, they would have left you. Bucky says he’s helping. And he has. So far. 

“How are you feeling?” His voice cuts through your thoughts of him. 

You lift your head as much as you can. Bucky stands in the doorway. His shadow crosses the room and he reaches to turn on the lamp beside the grand bed. You watch him. 

“Overhead light’s bright,” he says. “Your head must be going, huh?” 

“A little,” you croak. 

“Have some water,” he taps the brim of the glass on the night stand before he moves closer. 

You lock up, the tension causing a throb in your shoulder, and you let him bring you up to sitting. You feel a bit stronger than before but wobble like jelly in his hold. He takes the glass and brings it to your lips. You drink cautiously. 

“I’m--” 

“Sorry?” You finish before him. 

He pauses, “yeah, I keep... saying that, don’t I?” 

“Mm,” you hum. 

“Well...” 

“What... what happened to me?” 

He sniffs, “I’ve been trying to figure that out. I mean--” He combs his fingers through his hair. “I know what happened...” he puts the glass down. “That-- guy I’m with knocked the building you were in down but you weren’t supposed to be there.” 

“I-- but--- the interview,” you scrunch up your face as you think. 

“Was across the street.” He crosses his arms. 

Your eyes search the wall. “Oh.” 

Another stupid mistake and this one nearly got you killed. You swear you checked the email a dozen the times. The map app was a bit back and forth on the way but you just thought it was your natural lack of direction. Well, so it seems, it was. 

“If I knew innocent people could be hurt,” he says. 

You blink. You’re too weak to dwell on it. It’s all you can do to keep from whimpering. He stares at you. 

“You’re in pain? Or am I making it worse?” 

You choke out a breath. “no, you’re not... I’m just... I feel... unattached to my body. I don’t know. It's hard to... um...” You let your head fall to the side. 

“I know what you mean,” he frowns. 

“Soldat,” the slither makes you tense and grunt. Bucky’s cheeks visibly tick. His eyes drag to the door. “I knew I’d find you close to the damsel.” 

“Zemo,” Bucky’s posture turns rigid as he faces his colleague.  

“Ah, and she is awake. How unfun.” 

Bucky repeats his name and receives a mocking chortle in return. 

“I kid. How is the broken bird? Is she ready to fly?” 

Bucky growls and rolls his shoulders. 

“I am compassionate my mighty soldat,” Zemo taunts. 

“You know my name.” 

“Yes, but you do not give me that delightful snarl when I say it,” he cackles. “Anyhow, the lady, she would require some... upkeep. To wash. And I thought we might offer a sponge bath or some--” 

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Bucky bristles. 

“I’m certain it’s all you can think of,” the other man chimes. 

“And you don’t think,” he retorts. “I’ll deal with it.” 

“Oh, surely.” 

“Quit.” 

“Quit? What? I am being considerate,” Zemo shrugs. 

“I think I could manage--” 

You try to push yourself up. Bucky spins and shows a palm, “please, careful,” he warns, “In due time.” 

“Oh, certainly--” Zemo begins. 

“I said stop,” Bucky snaps then pinches his nose. “She’s bad enough without you.” 

“Mm, yes, such a pest I am. I’ve provided her this respite to recover. A bed, a room, whatever she may ask...” he nears the foot of the bed, “and she will have it.” 

“What about me? Because I’m asking you to go,” Bucky sneers. 

Zemo laughs again. “You are smart, yes? They certainly unscrambled your brain.” 

Bucky moves faster than anyone you’ve seen. He has Zemo by the throat as he growls. He only gets a snort in return. 

“Oh, go on then, break my neck. See if that will cozen her,” Zemo teases. Bucky shoves him away. “As it were,” Zemo rubs his neck as he leans to see around the other man, “if there is anything I might do or acquire on your behalf, very well let me know, darling.” 

You can only stare. Bucky shoos him with his fingers. They glare at each other for a moment before Zemo leaves with a ‘ta’. 

Bucky turns to you. You look at him. “Can I sleep a bit longer?” 

“Sure,” he answers. 

“Thanks,” you rasp and try to get comfortable. 

“Is it bad? Do you want help?” He moves up the side of the bed. 

“Please, I don’t think... I’ll just close my eyes,” you assure him. 

He sighs, “alright...” 

“I... thank you. I... I appreciate it.” 

“Don’t. Please. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt. Not again,” he sniffs. “I’ll make it up to you.” 

“You already have,” you assure. “You saved me.” 

His blue eyes swim as he watches you. His forehead creases and his cheek twitches. You shut your eyes and sink into the pillows. It’s easier to just block it all out. 

💞

You second meal is easier to digest. Bucky places a tray over your lap and you manage to grip the spoon yourself. He hovers, watching as if you might choke at any moment. You take your time, your body adjusting to the movement and the food. 

“Do you prefer honey or sugar?” Zemo draws Bucky’s dull gaze as he strides in, a cup and saucer in his hands. 

“What is that?” Bucky asks. 

“Well, my dear American companion, we serve tea in this sort of china--” 

“Why?” Bucky undercuts. 

Zemo’’s cheeks dimple and his lashes flick, “I am doing my part. And as I am host, I should display my hospitality in full.” 

“Display? Huh,” Bucky sets his feet wide, “no one needs to see your chest hair.” 

Zemo looks down at his shirt, the top three buttons undone. He tilts his head at his companion as you sit silent. Too confused and weak to interject. 

“So uptight,” Zemo comes towards you and places the saucer next to the bowl of soup. “Darling, I apologise for him. He was programmed to be this way--” 

“Don’t,” Bucky warns. 

“Yes, yes, he is not that soldier anymore, forgive me. He is a fine man,” he stays close, his back to the other man. “Listen, it was me who placed the explosives. Had I known you’d be there, I surely wouldn’t have hit that button--” 

“Would you leave her alone?” Bucky grabs him and spins him away. 

“Take your own advice,” Zemo brushes Bucky’s grip away. “How do you think she feels? You’re here, like some mother hen, clucking around--” 

“Better than your yammering--” 

“Please, Barnes, let us save this venom for closed doors. It is not etiquette to be so uncouth in front of company.” 

“You started it,” Bucky sneers. 

“How mature,” Zemo pats his arm with his knuckles and faces you. “So, honey? Sugar? Anything I might fetch you?” 

You shake your head, “erm... thanks.” 

“Yes, of course, I hope you enjoy. I wasn’t sure of what you would prefer. It is a white tea. Keeping in mind your current state, a black brew might be too much,” he explains. 

“Thinks so much of the tea but not the one thing I told you.” Bucky grumbles. 

“Yes, yes, well, we are both old dogs with bad habits,” Zemo turns to him again. “Aren’t we?” 

Bucky growls. He peeks at you then exhales. 

“We’ll leave you alone,” he says. 

You nod. The men don’t move. They just stare at each other. 

“After you,” Zemo gestures to the door. 

“I insist,” Bucky doesn’t budge. 

“Ah but that would be rude of me--” 

“Just--” Bucky blusters and storms toward the other man.  

He grabs him by the arm and marches him to the door. He shoves him through then spins and pulls it shut behind him. The snap of wood makes you flinch. 

How strange this all is. 

💞

Breathless, you curl forward over your lap. The silk pajamas are cold against your skin. You have no idea where they came from, you didn’t have a mind to think of what you’re wearing through all the pain and confusion. 

You heave a breath and whine. It took all your effort to get to the edge of the bed. You need to use the bathroom but have no idea where it is. Or if you’ll make it that far. 

You stay like that, gathering what little strength you have. You lift your shoulders just a little and sidle closer to the end post. You grip the wood and bite down. You slide off the bed and your soles hit the floor. You cling to the bed and whimper. 

It’s a mistake. 

Your legs tremble and your single arm isn’t enough to hold you up. The door swings open as you tip and you’re caught with a jarring force that send a twang through your shoulder. You screech as Zemo hooks his arms behind you and grunts as he moves you back to the bed. 

“Ah, little bird, you’ve fallen from your nest,” he muses as he fixes the collar of the lush pajama shirt. “Be careful--” 

“Sorry, I... I... the... bathroom,” you puff out. “I... I’m sorry.” 

“Oh, I did warn him you are human. You have needs beyond his pecking,” Zemo tuts, “Yes, I can assist.” 

He turns and sits next to you. He snakes his arm across your back. He takes your uninjured one and guides it behind his neck. 

“Shall I count?” He offers. You’re silent. “One three. One, two, three--” 

He stands you up and you falter. You squeak and panic, leaning into him as you hook your arm around his neck and face him. Your press your cheek to his shirt and moan. 

“Oh, darling,” his hand brushes down your side. “Never fear, I mightn’t be enhanced but I might do.” 

He bends slowly and angles you around. He scoops you up in his arms and you groan. The dearth beneath you makes you dizzy. 

“Hm, yes, let us get you to where you need--” he drawls as he approaches the door. 

He stops shorts as a sole scuffs. Your head lolls over as Bucky appears in the frame. He is in a robe, his hair damp, the smell of aftershave rippling from his freshly shaved jaw. You shrink into Zemo. 

“What are you doing?” Bucky snarls. 

“Helping,” Zemo retorts. “As you are in your self-care era, I am helping this one care for herself.” 

“Where are you taking her?” 

“Is nothing sacred? This soul deserves her privacy,” Zemo steps forward. “She requires to tend her most human needs.” 

Bucky squints then winces. “Oh, uh...” 

“Yes, so I am only helping as she is struggling to convey herself.” 

“I can help--” 

“You can move. We haven’t time to argue. I feel her squirming.” 

You murmur and let your head fall next to Zemo’s. Bucky sniffs but retreats. Zemo continues out of the room and into the high-ceilinged hall. Your eyes roll over the walls as he strides along to a door. Bucky reaches past him to twist it and pushes it inward. 

“Ah, see, we work well together,” Zemo reproaches as he steps inside. “I will set you down now, my darling.” 

“Yes,” you utter, “thank you.” 

He places you on a cushioned stool near the long counter before antique mirrors. The bathroom is spacious and smells of artificial rain scent. He helps you steady yourself and toys with the satin along your shoulder. 

“She doesn’t need an audience,” Bucky snarls. 

“Certainly,” Zemo draws back and faces the other man. “But wouldn’t it be amusing.” 

You groan as your muscles quiver. You wait until the door closes, then let yourself slouch once more. He did most of the work but just getting off that stool will sap the last of your strength. 

[oracle-of-dream]

The Bloody Birthday Party

I've finally begun to write that first chapter again! I've read over it, fixed the language, and updated some stuff! So even if you read the original, there are some new things now~

Summary: You received an invitation to a birthday party in the mail. From an unknown sender. So did your friends! You go to meet them there, but instead meet a family of seven brothers celebrating their birthday today.

Wordcount: 4.4k

Notes: Male Reader, Drunk-Dazed inspired Enhypen, All members are their ages in 2025–so everyone is adulting, Enhypen with Powers, Vampire Enhypen, idk what else

The night was cold and dark beside the street lamps that kept the street lit. You recheck your phone. It glowed the time, 9 PM, the time you were supposed to meet at this bus stop to ride out to the party.

You received an invitation hidden in your mail last week. A charcoal black envelope that read,

An Invitation To Our Bloody Birthday Party

And inside was the card with a neatly typed message.

You're invited to our bloody birthday party.

Sometimes, walking down the deadly path

Without fleeing from death itself

Can give rise to the most wondrous creation

We hope you will be able to come

The back of the card left instructions on where to find the transit bus to take you to the party. Your phone said it was some old house you hadn't seen before. You didn’t want to go, but your friends got the same invitation. After being invited to the same party, the group decided to go. Even though the party felt strange and shady, your friends managed to coax you out of the house that night.

Are you guys there already?

You stared at your phone, waiting for a reply. Then you heard a soft honk in front of you. A bus was waiting with the door open.

"Are you getting on?" The driver asked. You checked your phone one last time before nodding. You scrambled awkwardly into the bus.

Other than the driver and you, it was empty. You picked a seat toward the back, by a window, and put on your headphones. You played the first song in your playlist as you tried to distract yourself from the feeling of dread that hung on your shoulders. The bus ride was about twenty minutes, and you checked your phone every few minutes to check your messages.

Nothing, still… They must be having such a good time that they're not looking at their phones.

The bus stopped down the street of a large house. Music and red lights were pouring out like a rave was happening inside. As soon as you stepped off the bus, it pulled away. The darkness of the lightless street almost consumed you. The only light came from the single overhead streetlamp from the bus stop. The rest of the way was paved in shadow. There were no other people, not even the sound of the wilderness. The house was almost surrounded by forest. It was almost like an extension of the home–like it was reaching its arms out to cage you in. To force you to come toward it. You stepped into the darkness, along the sidewalk, toward the house. The heaviness in your chest got stronger as your eyes darted around, searching for anything hiding with you in the dark. Even the flashlight on your phone didn't make you feel any safer. A wolf’s howl rang through the night in the distance. Your speed was turned into a soft job as you tried not to break into a sprint.

The house, if you could call it that anymore, was massive. It didn’t seem as big when you were at the end of the street but now it was huge. A mansion stood before you, styled historically, like something you’d see in a museum picture of rich people years ago. The front door was ajar, light poured out. You could hear the sound of people talking and music playing. In the window, you could see it was full of people: dancing, drinking, laughing, and screaming.

"The party is more fun on the inside, you know." A voice tickled inside of your left ear. You turned around, back the way you’d just walked alone, to see a handsome man in front of you with black hair and a sharp look in his eye. He was dressed pretty nicely for a party. Slicked back hair, a tucked collared shirt, and even dress pants. He nodded to you as he looked you over. His eyes were dark. His eyebrows shifted as he examined you like he was sizing you up. "You alright? Need something to drink?"

You shook your head. "I'm just trying to find my friends. I just got here… They got here before me."

"Oh, I get you. It's a big house, and you can get lost in there. So be careful," he smirked. “By the way, I'm Jay.”

"Hi Jay, I'm y/n..."

"So, y/n, you have your invite? We can't just let anyone walk in."

You pulled it out of your bag for Jay to examine. "You're the bouncer?"

He laughed, "Not exactly. It's just my turn to watch the door. Gotta look out for guests, plus there are wolves around… My brothers are inside enjoying the party, and it'll be my turn to enjoy it soon."

"Your brothers?" You asked, disregarding the comment about the wolves.

"Yeah. It's my birthday tonight."

Your jaw went slack. "I-I didn't realize it was your birthday! Happy Birthday!" You awkwardly slapped his shoulder, trying to play it cool but then realizing how much worse that felt.

Jay handed you back your invite. "Thanks. Why don't you go in and find your friends? If you see my brothers, tell them that Jake's gift is somewhere in the house."

You nodded. That’s when you notice his eyes get sharper as if he wasn't looking at you but through you–listening very closely to something.

“Something wrong?”

Jay focused on you again. “You should go in. I gotta go check on something.” Jay walked off into the darkness on one side of the house, leaving you on the steps. You couldn’t even hear his steps as soon as he stepped completely into the dark. He was gone…

Inside the house, you wormed through people and tried not to bump into anyone. Your friends were nowhere in sight. The air inside was foggy, like from a machine, but tasted sweet like strawberries. The lights hurt your eyes at first, but the feeling eventually passed. You ended up in a kitchen, one of the few quieter rooms in the house. Inside was a boy with platinum blonde hair holding a cup of red liquid.

"Oh? Someone lost?" He asked as he turned to face you. His eyes gave you the impression he knew something you didn't, and he wore a smirk on his face while speaking.

"Yeah. I was just looking for my friends," You replied.

"It's a big house. You should be careful not to get lost. Everyone is toward the living room and dining room. And, you can check the second floor. But you may walk in on some people enjoying the party." He giggled when he mentioned walking in on people.

You cocked your head slightly. That’s the second time someone’s warned you about getting lost. Does it happen that often here?

"Oh yeah... that's no good," You were stiff with him. He was gorgeous, and you didn't know how to speak to him. He had an air about him that made you hang on to his every word, but you didn’t know what to reply with.

"You, okay? Need a drink to loosen up?" He held out his drink.

You shook your head. "No, thank you. I like pouring my drinks for safety and everything."

He took a sip of it and offered it again. "See? Perfectly safe. So, drink!" He pushed the drink closer to your hand. Somehow, the closer he got, the prettier too. The way he said drink, was a tone that sounded forceful. Like he was irritated, but his voice was so kind, and his smile so beautiful…

"O-Okay... One sip wouldn't hurt," You took a sip of the red drink. It tasted like strawberries mixed with club soda, but the carbonation was strong–and made you choke. "What's this again?"

He laughed at you, "It's just strawberry Fanta. Nothing special."

You stifle a cough to try and compose yourself. "Um, I'm y/n."

"Sunoo."

“So… do you know Jay? It’s cool that he knows so many people to invite for his birthday, but I realize I don’t know him…”

Sunoo smiled. “It's my birthday today!”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, "No way! Weird coincidence."

"He's my brother! My brothers and I celebrate our birthdays together, so today's all of our birthdays."

You feigned understanding of their weird birthday habit. "So, how many brothers do you have?"

"There are seven of us total."

"Seven–" Your eyes widened slightly. “That must be a lot for your family…”

Sunoo giggled at your reaction, "Yes. Me, Jay, Sunghoon, Heeseung, Ni-ki, Jungwon, and Jake."

The last name rang out in your ears, remembering Jay's request. "Oh! Then, I was supposed to tell you that Jake's gift is somewhere in the house."

Sunoo raised his eyebrow before looking you up and down. "Oh really? Did Jay give any hints on what it looks like?"

You shook your head, "Nope. Jay must want Jake to go on a scavenger hunt or something?"

The kind boy nodded in understanding, "Then I should go tell my brothers so they can get Jake to start looking. Good luck with finding your friends!" 

Sunoo waved goodbye as he walked out of the kitchen. Alone with the thumping bass of the speakers to keep you company. There were no new messages from your friends. 

So, did y’all prank me? Are you guys even here?

You sent them another text while headed toward another open area, you spotted someone familiar across the room. Or they looked familiar. In a rush to catch them, you stumbled on something on the fog-covered floor and bumped into someone. Looking up at the person you bumped into, there was a huge red stain on his white shirt. The man's face spelled irritation. He was tall, had dark hair, and his skin was white like snow.

"Can you watch it!? Are you drunk?" He pushed you off him before storming down a hallway. He cursed a few times as he did, something about blood.

You dusted yourself off and stood up. Looking back to where you saw the familiar figure. They were gone. Frantically, you scanned the room until you saw the figure walking upstairs. You rushed to follow it up the stairs, moving through the living room. You saw a guy with brown hair and cat-like eyes standing next to a taller boy with blonde hair who both watched you run by. Something about them felt off, but you didn't have time to stop.

Upstairs, you found a hallway full of closed doors. You couldn't see the figure anywhere, but you were sure they'd gone this way. You approached one door and put your ear up to it. It was hard to hear the music, but you could faintly hear moaning from the other side. You moved onto the next door, which was silent. You carefully turned the knob and started to push open the door. Before you could open it completely, you felt a hand on your shoulder that pulled you around. A man with black hair and a striped black and white shirt stood before you, red liquid dripping from his mouth.

"Hey there, pretty boy. What are you doing sneaking around up here?" He boxed you in, he had you pinned against the door, and his grip was like metal. He pulled you closer. "Do you wanna enjoy the party with me–how about in there?" His eyes pointed to the door you were leaning on.

"I'm just looking for my friend. I'm kind of–"

"Lost?" He cut you off.

"Not exactly. Just turned around."

"What's your name, love?"

"It's y/n."

"Well, y/n. It's my birthday tonight, and I think I'd like my gift from you now." The man got closer as he spoke. His chest pressed against yours.

"W–Well, my friend has the gift!" You lied. You forgot it was a birthday party, so you didn't think about bringing a gift in the first place.

"God… You’re so cute when to lie," He put his hand on your face, stroking your cheek. "Your skin is so soft. Your lips are so plump. You're my type.”

"And so is everyone else, Heeseung. Take it down a notch." Another voice from down the hallway spoke. 

The boy from the couch approached the two of you. He moved so quickly, that your eyes didn’t register it. His eyes scanned Heeseung as he grabbed at the hand he was using to hold you in place. "You've had too much to drink, so walk it off." Heeseung looked like he wanted to protest, but the shorter boy pulled him closer. They held each other’s gaze for a moment. Then Heeseung sighed before turning to you. "Okay, sorry, love. We can't dance together tonight." He winked as he wandered back toward the stairs.

Your savior turned his attention to you. "You okay? He didn't do anything to you?"

"No, I'm alright. Thanks for the save from that creep."

"My brother is a bit of… an attention whore if he drinks too much, it's a horrible habit. I'm sorry about that."

You mentally punched yourself. "Sorry about the creep comment! I didn't know–"

"Brother or not, a creep is a creep," He sighed. "I'm Jungwon. It's nice to meet you, y/n."

"How'd you know my name? I didn't tell you it yet..."

He looked off to the side. "You… said it when Heeseung asked, didn't you?"

You nodded slowly, "Yeah... I guess I did." 

Did that mean he was standing there for that long before stepping in? 

You set the thought aside and focused on the guy. "So, I'm guessing it's also your birthday?"

The boy nodded.

"Happy Birthday, mister..."

"Jungwon. And you can drop the mister."

"Happy Birthday, Jungwon."

Jungwon smiled. "Thank you. I hope you're enjoying the party and my brother didn't bother you too badly."

"I'm enjoying it. I just really wish I could find my friends..."

Jungwon scratched his head. "Try the door down this hall on the right."

"That's amazing! Thank you!" You dashed off to find your friends before they had a chance to slip away again. You went to the door Jungwon told you about, putting your ear up to it. No one was moaning this time. You checked your sides, and no Heeseung either. You opened the door and poked your head in. Two men were sitting on the bed, both facing away from you.

"Jake, it's easy. You can't go this long without quality food. We both know that. This party is perfect, and these people won't remember a thing the next morning. You'll just be a weird dream to them," The first guy said. He turned in your direction, noticing you at the door. He had an eyebrow slit and blonde hair with an undercut. It was the guy who was standing with Jungwon before… "Jake, it's time. Happy Birthday," He put his hand on Jake's shoulder, squeezing it tight, before leaving the room. He brushed past you. He smelled like a soft mint, and his eyes looked straight into yours.

He shook his head and walked away. "Don't be a letdown..." He took two steps before you couldn’t hear him anymore. You turned to see, but he was gone. Completely. You looked back at the second man in the room. He looked at you shyly. He had wavy blonde hair and a wet look in his eyes.

He jolted to his feet, "I didn't know someone else was–"

You put your hands up in defense, "No, that's all me! I didn't mean to interrupt your moment or whatever!"

Jake squeezed one of his wrists, "Would you come in?" You looked back over your shoulder, out the door. Your friends were somewhere around here. “Please?” You guessed it wouldn’t hurt to listen to the guy. You entered the room, standing a bit away from him.

"You're a little far," Jake muttered. You nervously scooted closer to him. "I–I don’t mean to be so weird…" He sighed. He shifted awkwardly on the bed.

"I–I'm just a little confused. Are you okay?" You leaned close to him.

He flinched away from you, his eyes sparking red as a small fire burst from the palm of his hand on the bed. “S-Shit!” Jake slapped the fire away before dropping his face in his hands. “This is going so badly already…” He wiped his face and turned to you. “I didn't mean to do that–it just happens sometimes. My powers are fucked up since I haven't eaten in a while."

You stared in shock at the sudden fire. "Powers? Well if it's about food, there's plenty of food downstairs. I can grab you some." You pointed toward the door.

He chuckled dryly. “No… none of that food’s for me.”

"Why not?"

“I just don’t eat that.”

That’s when it clicked in your mind who you were talking to. “Wait, you’re Jake, right!?”

He nodded, eyes wide with surprise. “How’d you know that?”

“Jay told me. He told me a present is here for you. That should cheer you up, right?”

“A present?” He looked at you, looking you over once. “Oh. I get it now.” His face soured as he looked at you. “Tell them I don’t want it… Just go. They know I don’t like those kinds of gifts.”

As much as you wanted to leave, you couldn’t help but feel bad for the guy. Being this depressed on his birthday, with a huge party and everything. Maybe he just needs someone to be with him. “I can sit with you if you want.”

“Just go!” Jake’s voice boomed as your sleeve burst into flames. You jumped back and screamed as you tried to get it off without burning yourself. Jake’s head whipped over to see you on fire. He immediately tackled you to the ground, hugging you tightly as you felt the fire die down. He whispered as if he were calming a child. “It’s okay! It’s okay! I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Please calm down. It was an accident…”

Jake helped you up and sat you down on the bed. The two of you sat in silence for a moment. Jake looked too nervous to speak, and you checked if your arm had any burns. Thankfully, the answer to that was no. 

A knock at the door broke the silence–a head peaked in slightly. It was Jungwon!

"Jake!" He called. Jake looked at Jungwon. As they locked eyes there was silence. It was a conversation, but you couldn't hear anything. Their mouths weren't moving. After a moment, Jungwon turned to you. "Hi y/n, I need a favor from you. Step out here with me."

You nodded, "Anything. I still owe you for earlier." You followed Jungwon outside the room, and he pulled the door closed.

Jungwon smiled. "Well, I'm going to use that favor now." He got closer and whispered, "I need you to seduce Jake."

You pulled away and looked at him in bewilderment, "Why!?"

"Keep it down," He commanded. “Jake’s been down for a while and my brothers and I have been trying everything we can to get him back to himself. He’s not… eating right. And if he keeps skipping meals, he’ll get worse.”

“Do you know he can set things on fire?” You held your charred sleeve.

Jungwon studied your sleeve. “That means it's getting worse already. Eventually, Jake won’t be able to control it, and he could burn this house down… I can’t explain everything y/n, but you’re the only one I can ask. It has to be you.”

You remembered how scared Jake was when he tackled you. He shook in your arms like he was terrified of that fire… Maybe he did need help. “So how does seducing him get him to eat?”

Jungwon sighed. “More questions I can’t quite answer. But you can tell he’s special. He needs special care. So maybe seduce is the wrong word–just be close to him. Get him to like you.”

You nodded in agreement at the change in words.

"Jake. My friend here is interested in you, but he's a little shy. Could you show him a good time?" Jungwon smiled as he let you back into the room, and shut the door as he left, locking it from the outside.

Jake turned to you, "Are you really into me?" His eyes were slightly red.

“Were you crying?”

He looked away from you. “That’s not important. I just wanna know, if you’re interested in me or if my brothers are threatening you. If they are, I can help you get out.”

"I'm not sure–I’m mostly trying to wrap my head around what just happened..." You said frankly. “But, I do want to get to know you a little… If you want that.”

Jake sighed and patted a spot on the bed next to him. "I want to be honest and comfortable with you. Can I?" You slowly nodded, cautious of his next move. Jake moved closer, his hands resting on your thigh, "My brothers and I are vampires. And we feed on blood, just like the ones in the movies. But we've got some extra powers. And my stupid power is the fire you saw earlier… But I can’t control it anymore."

You just stared at him, waiting for him to say he was joking. But he wasn't laughing. “So… when you said you haven’t eaten. You meant blood.”

"Yes…"

“Why not? You could’ve easily bitten me earlier, right?”

“I–” Jake's face flushed pink, "I haven't fed on a human in a long time... and it's intimate."

"How long?"

`"Like... maybe a hundred years?"

"Why?"

"That’s not your business," Jake’s tone got sharp and a spark skittered off his fingers. Jake took a deep breath to calm down. "Please understand. I just don’t feed on humans anymore. And drinking the blood of animals isn’t nearly as… nutritious. So it’s harder for me to live on just animal blood."

You immediately felt for him. Sympathetic even, "Of course I understand you, that's hard. I couldn't imagine having sex every time I was hungry."

He shook his head. "It's not sex! I'm not having sex with you to feed!" Another spark on his fingers…

"Okay! My bad!" You put your hands up in defense, watching his mood closely.

"I–I'm sorry. The hunger is making me emotional. I’ve usually got a better grip on it. The blood of animals has worked for years, but suddenly it works less. I've started experiencing urges."

"Urges?"

"Like... if I'm not focused and I get hungry. I could devour a whole person if I get too hungry. And if I get too overexcited, my power flares up and starts burning things around me."

Your eyes widened as you softly scooted away.

"I won't do that to you!" Jake moved a hand toward you but shrank away from you. "I also hate that. I don't like people looking at me like a monster. Others live for it, but not me. I just want to be normal.”

“So, that’s why you have a party for your birthday? To feel normal?” You asked.

Jake shook his head, "No. The party is how we stock up on blood for half of the year. Luring in people, knocking them out, and then we drink some and store more blood elsewhere. The most that humans experience is a headache, like a bad hangover. They don't even remember us. Unless you're like Heeseung."

"What happened with Heeseung?" You shivered. Just thinking of him felt like he was so close to you.

"He... is a more traditional vampire. Drinking until they stop beating, if you get me." Jake looked into space as if remembering horrible memories. “But that act of taking blood is something I’m not very into.”

"So, I just let you bite me, and I won't remember anything? I can still go home after," You asked.

Jake nodded, "Pretty much, but I don't like forcing people to–”

You rolled up your sleeve, "Is my arm okay, or do you have to be my neck?"

Jake backed up, "You'd just let me drink from you?"

You nodded, "If it's to help you out, then sure. You said I’d be safe and you’re honest with me, so I trust you. I’d much rather give some blood than have it taken unknowingly. Or end up with Heeseung.” You tried to joke, to keep the vibe up, but you couldn’t stop hearing your heart beating.

"No! I'd never let him have you! You're nice!" Jake pulled your sleeve down, covering your veins. "I won't bite you unless you want me to. If you don't want me to, I'll sneak you out of the house and let you go. So… are you sure?”

You considered his offer closely. If Jake let you go, you'd remember the existence of vampires and probably ruin every vampire show for the rest of time. And if you let him bite you, then it's just a foggy memory. But then you remembered. "What about my friends? If I leave, what will you do to them?"

"My brothers stick to our routine pretty seriously. So they should get the same routine as everyone else. A drain and release. We can’t risk anyone bringing the police."

"Unless they meet Heeseung…"

Jake nodded, "Well, Jay and Jungwon take turns keeping watch near his room to stop him from getting too out of hand." Jake's eyes glittered in the moonlight from the window. They had an honest sense, loyal to their promises. 

You sighed. "Promise me I won't end up dead."

"I promise. I'll guard you with my life," Jake smiled.

You laid your back on the bed and closed your eyes. "Okay... bite me then." 

There was movement and warmth, and you could feel his breath on your neck. He straddled you, his knees near your hips and his hands gently moving your head to the side. You couldn't help but shake and brace for the pain. You felt your consciousness slip away as Jake’s lips landed on your neck…

You opened your eyes slowly, holding your head and slowly sitting up. You were in a bedroom with sunlight pouring in from the window. The room was familiar, but it wasn't your room. You moved to sit in bed, only to realize you weren't alone. A handsome blonde man was lying in bed with you, both tucked under the covers.

"Jake?" You whispered, remembering everything from the night before until you closed your eyes. "Why do I know who you are!?”

[mistyshane30]

You Were Never Mine to Lose (Chapter 8)

Synopsis: A day of shopping and a night of games bring the group closer, filled with laughter, teasing, and playful chaos. But as the night winds down, unspoken tensions linger beneath the surface. 

Word count: 4.7K 

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol consumption, Subtle angst, Lingering tension, Unresolved emotions 

You wake up to a dull, throbbing headache—the kind that comes from drinking alone and overthinking too much. Your mouth is dry, and the first thing you do is reach blindly for the glass of water you left on the coffee table last night—only to find it empty. Great. 

Groaning, you sit up, wincing at the stiffness in your neck. Right. You fell asleep on the couch. Rubbing your temples, you glance at your phone. 

It’s already 1:07 PM.  

You blink at the time, still half-asleep, trying to piece together how you even ended up here. The last thing you remember is Adele playing on repeat, the soft glow of the lamp, and the slow burn of whiskey settling in your chest. 

You unlock your phone, and immediately, a flood of group chat messages fills the screen. 

Coven Group Chat 

Jen: "Shopping at Malibu Country Mart today. Be at the main entrance by 3 PM. Also, slumber party at my villa—7 PM. Don't be late." 

Alice: Ooooh, slumber party at 7PM, let’s gooo! 

Lilia: I’m bringing face masks and wine. This is a serious girls’ night. 

Wanda: Better not back out, Y/N. 

Lilia: If she even sees this message. Bet she’s still asleep. 

Alice: She’s totally still asleep. 

Jen: Sleeping off a wild night, probably. 

Wanda: Or she just drinks her problems away like an emotionally unavailable CEO… 

Lilia: Damn, psychoanalyze her more. 

Agatha: She’s reading all of this right now and deciding whether or not to respond. 

You pause, staring at Agatha’s message. It was sent only a few minutes ago. It’s not teasing like the others—it’s casual, knowing. The way she always seems to read you so easily, even through a screen, sends a flicker of something down your spine. 

With a sigh, you toss your phone aside and sit up, swinging your legs over the edge of the couch. Your body feels heavy, weighed down by the remnants of last night’s emotions. The living room is still dim, the curtains drawn shut, and you don’t miss the sight of the nearly empty whiskey bottle on the coffee table. You shake your head and stand, stretching as you make your way to the bathroom. A long shower helps, the hot water washing away some of the heaviness in your limbs. 

Once you're dry, you head to your closet, picking out something that makes you look far more put together than you feel—a black sleeveless knit turtleneck top, grey wide-leg trousers, and your Gucci Arielle crystal-heel ankle boots. You add your Bvlgari Serpenti sunglasses for an extra touch, though part of you knows you’ll need them to shield your still-sleepy, slightly puffy eyes. A tote bag to complete the look, and you're set. 

Feeling somewhat more like yourself, you move to the kitchen, making yourself a quick meal—the first of the day. As you eat, you absentmindedly scroll through your emails, skimming over a few work updates, though nothing urgent enough to demand your attention. Once that’s done, you switch to social media, scrolling without really processing anything, just filling the time. 

By the time you check the clock, it’s already 2:45 PM. 

Then a familiar chime of your phone breaks your thoughts. Another message from the group chat. 

Jen: Y/N, if you’re still asleep by the time we leave, I swear— 

You huff out a laugh, finally picking up your coffee and settling on the couch with your phone. You take a slow sip, letting the warmth ground you before finally typing a reply. 

You: Calm down, I’m alive. 

The second you hit send, Agatha’s typing bubble appears. It lingers for a few seconds before disappearing. 

You stare at the screen for a moment before shaking your head. You don’t have time to analyze it. 

You sigh, setting your phone down and pushing your plate aside. Grabbing your bag, you slip on your sunglasses and head toward the door, stepping outside. The afternoon sun is warm but not unbearable, and as you make your way toward the main entrance, you take a deep breath, bracing yourself. 

You don’t know what today will bring—just that she’ll be there. And lately, that’s been enough to keep your mind racing. 

As you step up to the van, you notice it’s just Jen, Lilia, Alice, and Wanda waiting. No Agatha. You’re about to ask where she is when a familiar voice speaks up behind you. 

“Did anyone bring a power bank? I forgot to plug mine in this morning.” 

You turn around, and there she is—Agatha, looking effortlessly put together despite the casual occasion. She’s wearing a beige lightweight wool blazer over a crisp white silk blouse, tucked neatly into ankle-length trousers of the same shade. Stiletto-heel sandals complete the look, and her black shades sit perched on her nose, adding to the polished aura. Her hair is styled in a bouncy blowout, making her look every bit the governor she is. 

You blink, then smirk. “Are we going shopping, or are we launching a campaign?” 

Agatha slides her shades down just enough to give you a look. “Says the woman dressed like she’s about to close a million-dollar deal.” 

You scoff, but before you can fire back, Lilia sighs dramatically. “Oh my god, just get in the van. You two can flirt inside.” 

You roll your eyes as Agatha just chuckles, and the group piles into the van. The ride is smooth, the warm Malibu sun casting golden streaks through the windows. There’s easy chatter—Wanda and Alice going over what stores they want to hit first, Jen already debating whether she needs another designer purse, and Lilia talking about trying some overpriced organic smoothie she saw in an influencer’s post. 

Agatha, next to you as always, is scrolling through her phone, but you can tell she’s listening to the conversation, occasionally smirking at their antics. 

It’s barely a five-minute drive before the van pulls up to the Malibu Country Mart. As you all step out, the salty ocean breeze mixes with the faint scent of coffee from a nearby café. The place is buzzing with people—locals and tourists alike, dressed in their effortlessly chic beach town attire. 

Jen claps her hands together. “Alright, where to first?” 

You catch Agatha adjusting her blazer, her rings catching the sunlight as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. It takes you a second too long to look away. 

After browsing through boutiques like L’Agence, James Perse, and Ralph Lauren—trying on clothes for fun but not really buying anything—you and the group make your way through the rest of Malibu Country Mart. Jen picks out some dresses and blouses at Ralph Lauren, Alice finds a few pieces of jewelry she can’t resist, and Lilia stocks up on candles. You just enjoy the walk, letting the easy conversations and occasional teasing fill the afternoon. 

Next, you stop by Malibu Shaman, admiring the eclectic art pieces, then wander through Cielo Home, browsing home decor for inspiration rather than purchase. Malibu Colony Co. is your last stop before a break, where Alice finds another piece of jewelry that catches her eye. 

Hunger starts creeping in, and the group decides on coffee and pastries at Alfred Coffee. But before you can get there, Jen suddenly stops in front of a flower shop called Hecate’s Garden. She steps inside without hesitation, the bell chiming softly as she pushes the door open. "I actually haven’t found a florist for my wedding yet," she muses, running her fingers gently over a bouquet of white peonies. 

The rest of you follow, spreading out to explore the shop. The scent of fresh flowers fills the air, mixed with the faintest trace of essential oils. Agatha lingers near a display of deep purple calla lilies, her fingers trailing absently over the petals. You glance at her for a moment before looking away, busying yourself with a stack of floral arrangement books. 

Jen walks toward the front desk and rings the bell, waiting patiently for the florist. A moment later, the sound of footsteps echoes from the back room, and soon, a woman steps out, wiping her hands on her apron. "Sorry for the wait! I was just finishing up a bouquet in the back," she says. 

You had expected an old woman to own this shop, but you’re surprised to see someone else entirely. Your eyes scan her for a moment—grey cropped tank top, faded jeans, an apron covered in flower stains, chunky boots, and her hair pulled into a messy bun. And that face… it looks familiar. Then it clicks. 

It’s the woman who kept winning at the Water Race back at Pacific Park—Rio Vidal. 

Quickly, you look away and slide your sunglasses on, as if that’ll do anything to hide you. 

Jen doesn’t notice your mini crisis. "Oh, it’s fine! I actually wanted to ask—do you have experience with wedding arrangements?" she asks. 

Rio nods, tilting her head. "I do. Are you a wedding planner, or—?" 

"The bride-to-be," Jen corrects with a smile, then gestures toward the group. "And these are my bridesmaids." 

Rio smiles, scanning the group, but then her gaze lands on you. She leans in slightly, as if to make sure she’s seeing correctly. 

"Y/N!?" 

You have no choice but to awkwardly face her, forcing a smile. "Rio," you say, trying to sound casual, though your cheeks feel like they’re on fire. 

Your friends exchange glances, clearly intrigued. Jen raises an eyebrow. "Wait, you two know each other?" 

Rio grins. "Yeah, we met at Pacific Park a few days ago. Y/N here was very competitive at the Water Race. Oh! And I actually gave her my business card—told her to pass it along in case you needed a florist." 

Jen tilts her head. "Really? Because I never got a business card." 

All eyes shift to you. You clear your throat. "I… forgot to give it to you." 

"Mmmhmm," Wanda hums, smirking. "Or maybe you just wanted to keep her number for yourself." 

You shoot her a glare, not amused. Wanda simply chuckles, clearly enjoying this too much. You, on the other hand, would love nothing more than to sink into the floor. 

The group seems entirely entertained by the revelation—except Agatha. Her expression is unreadable, but there’s something in her eyes that makes you uneasy. 

Thankfully, Rio steers the conversation back to business, chatting with Jen about the wedding. You take the moment to nudge Wanda in the shoulder, still irritated by her teasing. She just laughs under her breath. 

After discussing a few details, Jen thanks Rio, and the group prepares to leave. As you turn to exit, Rio smiles at all of you in a formal farewell, but as her eyes meet yours again, she winks. 

Your friends catch it. They don’t say anything, but their reactions are clear. 

Except for Agatha, whose expression remains cool, unimpressed. 

You force a small smile at Rio before stepping out of the shop, exhaling a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. 

When you finally reach Alfred Coffee and settle into a table, placing your orders, you notice your friends all staring at you. Expectantly. 

You blink. "What?" 

Lilia snorts. "Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you totally just got winked at by the hot florist?" 

Alice smirks. "Yeah, and maybe because you looked like you wanted to sink into the floor the entire time." 

You groan, already regretting sitting down. "Can we not?" 

Wanda leans forward, grinning. "So, are you and Rio a thing now?" 

"No," you answer quickly. "We barely even talked." 

"But you could," Lilia teases. "Like, what if—" 

"There is no what if," you interrupt, shaking your head. "We met at a carnival game. That’s it." 

Alice raises an eyebrow. "And yet, she remembered you. And she winked." 

"Okay, why is the wink such a big deal?" 

Wanda shrugs dramatically. "Because it was a wink. A flirtatious, ‘see you later’ kind of wink." 

You sigh, taking a sip of your coffee instead of responding. The teasing goes on for a while, your friends fully enjoying watching you squirm. All except Agatha, who is busy on her phone, barely acknowledging the conversation. 

At some point, Alice leans forward. "Okay, okay, but back up—how exactly did you and Rio meet?" 

You exhale, knowing there’s no escape. "It was at Pacific Park," you start, setting your cup down. "She was at the Water Race game, and I—" you pause briefly before continuing, "Agatha was with me when we met." 

Lilia’s brow lifts slightly, but no one comments on that part. "And?" 

You clear your throat. "Rio kept winning. Like, every single round. Apparently, no one ever beats her at that game." 

"But you did," Alice points out. 

You nod. "Yeah. Eventually, I won. She came up to congratulate me after, since, according to her, it never happens. We talked a little, and she gave me her business card for Jen. That’s it." 

Lilia grins. "Interesting." 

"Not interesting," you correct. "Just a random carnival game. That’s all." 

The teasing continues, but you choose to ignore most of it. Eventually, the coffee is gone, and the group decides to head back to the resort. As everyone parts ways, Jen reminds everyone about the slumber party at her villa later. You nod, making your way back to your own villa, glad to finally get a moment of peace—though you’re not entirely sure why Agatha’s silence feels louder than all the teasing combined. 

It’s almost 7 p.m. when you make your way to Jen’s villa, the evening air still warm against your skin. You knock on the door, expecting Jen to answer, but instead, it swings open to reveal Agatha. 

She’s standing there in a set of deep purple silk pajamas, the fabric catching the light just enough to make her look effortlessly elegant. Her top is unbuttoned just enough to hint at the curve of her collarbone, and for a brief, fleeting second, you forget why you’re even here. 

Her gaze sweeps over you, slow and deliberate, before her lips curl into a smirk. 

“Well, well,” she drawls, leaning against the doorframe. “Didn’t realize this was that kind of slumber party.” 

You blink, confused for half a second—until you register the teasing glint in her eyes. And then it hits you—your outfit. 

You’re in a maroon silk cami and matching shorts, something you threw on without a second thought. Or at least, that’s what you’re telling yourself now. But standing here under Agatha’s sharp gaze, the air between you suddenly feels different—charged in a way you can’t quite place. 

She tilts her head, her smirk deepening. “Not that I’m complaining. You certainly know how to make an entrance.” 

Your breath catches, just for a second. There’s something about the way she says it—not just teasing, but something else, something lingering beneath her tone. Or maybe you’re imagining it. Maybe you want to be imagining it. 

You recover quickly, masking the brief flicker of nerves with a smirk of your own. “And here I thought you were the one dressing for attention, Mrs. Governor.” 

Her smirk twitches, like she knows exactly what you’re doing. But before she can fire back, you step past her into the villa, pretending your pulse isn’t just slightly offbeat. 

Inside, the others are already settled in the living room. Jen and Lilia are on the floor with face masks on, sipping their drinks, while Wanda and Alice lounge nearby, looking entirely too comfortable. The moment their eyes land on you, they exchange glances, and then— 

“Oh, damn,” Lilia hums, tilting her head. “Someone came dressed to kill.” 

Wanda wiggles her brows. “I know we said slumber party, but I didn’t think we meant lingerie ad.” 

Jen laughs, shaking her head. “I swear, you always have to make things dramatic, don’t you?” 

You roll your eyes, plopping down onto one of the cushions. “Can’t a girl just wear something comfortable?” 

“Comfortable?” Alice repeats. “That’s not comfortable. That’s a statement.” 

As the teasing continues, you catch Agatha sinking onto the couch out of the corner of your eye, her expression unreadable. But when you glance at her fully, she’s already looking away, swirling the drink in her hand like she has better things to focus on. 

Maybe it’s nothing. 

Or maybe it’s something. 

Either way, you shake it off and grab a drink, ready to see what the night has in store. 

You guys order some pizza to eat while chatting, the conversation flowing easily as laughter fills the room. Between bites, you find yourself stealing glances at Agatha every chance you get, catching the way the dim lighting makes her look impossibly softer. She seems relaxed tonight, the usual sharpness in her gaze slightly dulled by the warmth of the atmosphere. 

After eating, Wanda suggests playing Jenga. The first few rounds are fun—competitive banter, exaggerated celebrations when someone successfully pulls out a block, groans when the tower inevitably collapses. But after two rounds, the excitement dies down, and everyone starts losing interest. 

Lilia, ever the instigator, claps her hands together. "Alright, Jenga was a bust. How about Truth or Dare?" 

You let out an incredulous laugh, shaking your head. "Are we seriously playing Truth or Dare? What is this, a high school sleepover?" 

"Oh, come on," Wanda smirks, already reaching for her drink. "We’re all adults here. What’s the worst that could happen?" 

You scoff but ultimately shrug. It’s harmless fun, right? Just a game. And besides, the slight buzz from the drinks makes everything seem a little funnier, a little lighter. 

The game begins with everyone sitting in a circle on the floor, a half-empty pizza box in the middle and glasses of wine or soda scattered around. Jen starts first, picking "Truth." Lilia leans in, smirking. "Alright, Jen—when did you know your fiancé was 'the one'?" 

Jen hums, thinking. "I guess when he stayed up all night helping me prepare for a court case even though he had no clue what he was doing. He just wanted to help." 

Alice clutches her chest dramatically. "Ugh, that's disgustingly sweet." 

The turns continue. Alice chooses "Dare" and is dared to text an ex a vague "I miss you." She groans but does it, then immediately turns her phone off. "Nope. I'm not dealing with that tonight." 

Lilia picks "Truth" and is asked who her last crush was. She sighs. "Some barista at this cute coffee shop near my apartment. We flirted a lot, but I think she was just being nice for tips." 

Agatha goes next. She swirls her wine glass, eyes flicking to you briefly. "Dare." 

Jen, who has been waiting for this moment, leans forward. "I dare you to say something you genuinely admire about Y/N." 

Your head snaps toward Jen. "Excuse me?" 

The group turns to Agatha, waiting. She tilts her head, considering, then meets your eyes. "She’s… determined. Once she sets her mind on something, she sees it through." 

Your stomach flips at her words, and you quickly look away, reaching for your drink to distract yourself. The air feels charged, but before anyone can comment, the game moves on. 

Then it's Wanda's turn. She picks "Dare," and Lilia grins wickedly. "I dare you to send a voice memo confessing your undying love to a random contact." 

Wanda rolls her eyes but takes her phone out, scrolling. "Fine, but if this backfires, I’m haunting all of you." She records the message dramatically. "I have loved you in silence for too long. Every moment without you is agony." She sends it and immediately regrets it. "Oh my God, I sent it to my dentist." 

The room erupts into laughter. 

Then, it's your turn. Wanda grins. "Truth or Dare?" 

You should’ve known she’d be trouble. "Dare." 

"Text Rio. Just a simple 'Hey~'." 

Your face heats instantly. "Are you serious?" 

"Rules are rules," Lilia chimes in, nudging you. 

With an exasperated sigh, you pull out Rio’s business card from your wallet, type in the number, and send the text. "Happy now?" You show them the screen. 

The group cheers, but you glance at Agatha. She’s focused on her drink, spinning the stem of her wine glass between her fingers, her expression unreadable. 

The game continues, with dares getting bolder and truths getting more revealing. Alice, emboldened by the wine, gets dared to send a flirty text to her neighbor and does so with a dramatic flourish. Lilia is forced to prank call her boss and nearly chokes on laughter trying to sound serious. Wanda, still recovering from her dentist confession, picks "Truth" and is asked who her biggest celebrity crush is. "Easy," she smirks. "Charlize Theron." 

Then it's Jen's turn again. She picks "Dare," and Alice grins. "I dare you to take a shot without making a face." 

Jen raises a brow, unfazed, and downs the shot with ease, setting the glass down with a smirk. "You underestimate me." 

Agatha, who has been quietly observing, finally gets another turn. She considers for a moment, then picks "Truth." 

Lilia leans in, her expression mischievous. "Alright, Agatha, be honest—have you ever been interested in someone in this room?" 

Agatha raises a brow, swirling her wine glass lazily. "Interest is a broad term." 

The group groans at her deflection, but Lilia presses on. "Fine, let me rephrase. Have you ever thought about kissing someone in this room?" 

Agatha exhales a soft chuckle, taking a slow sip of her wine before answering, "Maybe." 

More protests erupt, demands for details flying from all directions. But Agatha just smirks, her expression unreadable. You grip your glass a little tighter, pulse quickening. For a second—just a second—you swear her eyes flicker toward you, but it's gone before you can be sure. 

The game moves on, but your mind lingers. 

The game continues with even riskier dares and truths, laughter filling the room as the night deepens. 

Then, it comes back to you. You pick "Dare" again, and Jen lights up mischievously. "Perform a seductive dance for the group." 

You groan, throwing your head back. "Are we really doing this?" 

"Oh, absolutely," Alice smirks. 

Sighing, you stand up, stretching dramatically. The speaker is still playing soft music in the background, but Lilia quickly changes it to something more fitting—sultry, slow. You roll your eyes but go along with it, swaying your hips, running a hand down your body in exaggerated moves. Jen and Lilia pretend to throw money at you, and Wanda is recording, cackling. You steal a glance at Agatha, and— 

She’s watching. Intently. That same amused expression, but her lips are slightly parted, fingers tapping against her wine glass as if in thought. The way her eyes linger sends a shiver down your spine. 

You finish with a twirl and drop back down into your seat. "There. Happy?" 

"Oh, very," Jen teases. 

The night deepens, the dares get wilder, and the truths get riskier. By the time you’re all leaning into each other, laughing over some ridiculous confession from Lilia about making out with a stranger in an elevator, you can’t help but notice Agatha hasn’t picked another dare. 

And she’s barely taken a sip from her wine since that one particular dare was mentioned. 

The game carries on, but your thoughts keep circling back—to Agatha, to the way she looked at you, and to what exactly that meant. 

After the game, you guys decide to watch a movie. You sink into the couch, stretching your legs out comfortably, when Agatha casually takes the seat right beside you. You pretend not to care, keeping your expression neutral, but inside? Yeah, you definitely care. You tell yourself it's just because of the lingering tension from the game, but who are you fooling? You can feel the warmth of her so close, the occasional brush of her arm against yours, and it makes your skin buzz with awareness. 

Jen scrolls through the available movies, listing them out loud. 

“Okay, we’ve got Jennifer’s Body, How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, Legally Blonde... ooh, Gone Girl, and then—The Exorcist?” Jen reads, glancing at the group for reactions. 

“Absolutely not,” Alice says immediately, shaking her head. “I am not watching The Exorcist before bed. I will sleep with the lights on.” 

“Lilia might actually like that one,” Wanda teases. 

Lilia just shrugs. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind. But I know Alice would kill me in my sleep if I made her watch it.” 

“She’s right,” Alice agrees. “Pick something else.” 

“Fine, fine,” Jen says, scrolling again. “What about 10 Things I Hate About You?” 

Wanda and Alice immediately light up. “Yes, yes, yes,” Wanda says, pointing at the screen. 

“Oh, classic. That’s the one,” Alice nods. 

Jen turns to the rest of you. “Votes?” 

“I’m in,” Lilia says easily. 

“Same,” you add. “It’s one of my favorite movies.” 

At that, Agatha gives you a look. A slow, unreadable glance before she tilts her head, brow slightly raised, like she just learned something new about you. You turn to her. 

“What?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at her. 

She just shrugs, smirking slightly. “Nothing.” Then she looks away, clearly amused about something. 

You squint at her for a second before deciding to let it go. Jen, satisfied with the choice, clicks play and turns off the lights to set the mood for a “cinematic experience.” 

As the movie starts, you settle into your seat, sipping your drink. Occasionally, your gaze drifts toward Agatha, watching how she reacts to different scenes. You steal glances at her when she’s not looking, curious. 

Then comes that scene. 

Heath Ledger, standing in the bleachers, belting out Can’t Take My Eyes Off You with a mischievous grin. 

Your grip on your drink tightens slightly. Not because of the scene itself—you’ve seen it a hundred times. But because, in the dim glow of the screen, you catch Agatha watching it with an expression that’s softer than usual, a flicker of amusement in her eyes. And maybe it’s your mind playing tricks on you, but for a brief second, you swear you feel her gaze shift toward you. 

You immediately look back at the screen, pretending to be engrossed in the movie. 

Great. Now I’m imagining things. 

You shake it off, focusing on the film. But then comes the poem scene. Julia Stiles’ Kat stands at the front of the classroom, voice shaking, eyes brimming with emotion as she delivers I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all. 

You shift slightly in your seat. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Agatha blink a little more than usual. Her lips press together like she’s trying to suppress some kind of reaction. 

You don’t know why, but your chest feels tight watching her watch this scene. You tell yourself it’s just because it’s a good movie. That’s all. 

Definitely. That’s all. 

The movie ends, and one by one, everyone starts settling in for the night. The room is filled with quiet murmurs, blankets being adjusted, and the occasional yawn as exhaustion finally catches up. 

You lay down on the floor mattress beside Wanda, letting out a slow exhale as you adjust your pillow. The room is dim, only the soft glow of a lamp in the corner keeping the space from total darkness. Just as you start to get comfortable, Agatha lays down on the other side of you, close enough that you can feel the faintest shift of the mattress beneath her weight. 

You immediately freeze. 

With your back to her, you tell yourself not to think about it—to ignore the way the air shifts, heavier somehow, charged with something unspoken. To pretend the space between you isn’t filled with quiet tension, that your heart isn’t betraying you with every uneven beat. You stay still, breathing slow and steady, feigning indifference. Pretending it doesn’t affect you. Pretending you don’t feel her there. 

Instead, you turn to Wanda and make quiet small talk, anything to distract yourself from the warmth of Agatha’s presence behind you. Wanda hums sleepily in response, her words growing softer with each reply. 

Eventually, her breathing evens out, signaling that she’s drifted off. You should do the same. 

But you don’t move. You refuse to shift, to roll over or adjust, because that would mean acknowledging Agatha is right there. 

So instead, you stay perfectly still, facing Wanda’s side, eyes closed, forcing yourself to sleep—even as the awareness of Agatha lingers in every breath you take. 

Taglist: @6stolenangel9 @charlottelinlin1 @milflovers4 @claramelooo @loveshineslikethesky @kaymariesworld @marcelinaceciliarose @misskassycollins @greyella @theothersideofthescreen @whitelotus00 @agathaallalongg @psychickryptonitebouquet @sweetmidnights @angel-kitten-babygirl-u-choose @filmedbyharkness @brekker157 @rizzlesregal13 @starbucks-06 @aboutcustardcreams @crescendoofstars @neverfindmegone @mommy-mommy-mommy-hi

[joyswonderland1108]

"Jikookers want what we have" a tragicomedy in 84 acts.

Ah yes. The cult has spoken again. That group of people so devoted to fanfiction they forgot they're not the actual authors of BTS' lives. I was just minding my own business scrolling on X and then i saw screenshots where they uttered the iconic phrase once more : "Jikookers want what we have"

And my immediate reaction is: You have what exactly?

Please, i beg, enlighten me. Educate me. Shine your flashlight of delusion upon my humble soul.

Do you mean:

The ability to look at two men in the same room and immediately start spinning a three-season k-drama script about a "secret marriage" that somehow survived a full military enlistment gap and multiple obvious real-life interactions that contradict your entire fantasy?

The audacity to claim that literally everything Jikook do is either "fanservice", "coincidence" or "they were forced to do it by the company" .. but when tk breathe the same air, it's "soulmate proof" and "date night"?

The unique talent of opening your eyes, seeing Jikook's entire interactions unfold like the final scene of a romantic film, and still going, "Nope. That's just brotherly love. Jungkook actually flew to that city for someone else."?

And let’s not forget the true crime-level sleuthing they do with pixelated photos and background objects. Like that time they saw a Christmas tree with the Wooga squad and immediately declared, “That’s it. That’s Jungkook. He was there.” Just.. a tree. A tree. Not a hand. Not a sleeve. Not a voice. A TREE. And the confidence? Unmatched.

Or when a blurry reflection shows up in a spoon, and suddenly it’s “Jungkook was clearly there. That’s his left earlobe from 2019, I would know it anywhere.” Girl..

They’ve mistaken staff members, shadows, pets, and possibly furniture for Jungkook. At this point, if someone breathes near a member of the Wooga squad, they’re like, “He’s there. He's hiding behind the lamp. That lamp is his disguise.

🧍‍♀️Be serious.

You have what? A religious devotion to editing Jikook clips and pics out of existence OR turning them into.. something else so you can post your 8-second gifs as a "proof"?

A Photoshop degree in manufacturing matching accessories that they never actually wore? A deep-rooted fear of 4K footage? A library full of plotlines that have not been updated since 2019?

Because baby, while you're out here reading a version of events that got invalidated faster than a Weverse life replay gets deleted, we're over here crying, throwing up, and questioning our own existence watching actual moments of intimacy, care, tension, fondness, push-pull dynamics, micromovements, looks that scream "I dare you to say that in public", and lips that do not lie.

Your people are defecting babes. They're not even silent about it. We've seen it. "I feel sad, i can't breathe, i will take a break because i don't know if i believe in them any longer after this", "Okay but if MY ship did what THEY did i'd be in a coma"

Exactly. You'd be in a coma. Meanwhile Jikookers are here with two IV bags of emotional damage and still managing to function (barely).

Let's talk about how your entire structure collapses when:

Jungkook calls Jimin "Jimin-ssi" with that look.

Jimin calls Jungkook "Baby" on camera.

Jungkook tells Jimin he gives him butterflies.

Jimin calling Jungkook "Hyung" with the most teasing smugness known to mankind and Jungkook malfunctions on the spot.

Jungkook sits and stares at Jimin content during his lives without blinking.

Jimin sings Jungkook's solo, doing his moves the way a man who memorized it for "reasons" would.

Meanwhile you're out there hanging your entire thesis on "they once went to the same restaurant with different people on different days but what if they actually met up?"

We don't want what you have.

WE DO NOT WANT UNHINGED THEORIES AND PERMANENT COPIUM.

What we do want is peace, peace from you twisting Jikook's actions like it's your career.

Peace from you posting "this proves nothing" under every video that shows more chemistry than a K-drama final kiss.

Peace from you crying "company script" every time Jungkook chooses to speak about Jimin with his entire chest and a suspicious sparkle in his eyes.

Let me be clear:

We don't want what you have because.. There's nothing there to want. It's like going to a buffet and finding a single ice cube and being told "this is a gourmet".

So no. We’re good. We’re full.

We're over here eating with trembling hands, yes, but we’re EATING.

Stay in your cave of denial where 2017 screenshots are still considered "recent," and please stop acting like we’re jealous of a headcanon when we’ve got receipts, replay buttons, and regret.(because the intensity of it all is emotionally destructive and yet we keep coming back).

Thank you for your time.

Back to your regularly scheduled delusion.

[sereia4skz]

Dear Sereia,

How have you been?

The last few weeks have been very exciting, all of Felix friends are welcoming me so nicely or well…they are eager at least. There’s only one guy that has been quite reluctant to talk to me, but not the way grumpy Seungmin did.

Hyunjin, the little hybrid ferret is still keeping his distance, he’s trying to not be as obvious around me, but I know his little secret. When Felix, He and I went shopping a few days ago, I tried on some cute dresses and lo and behold there was a little ferret hand with a tiny camera in it…where did he even get that small of a cam?! So after that I went through my whole bedroom and found a few more. So I made a plan to trick him, if he wants to film he can come close and do it, don’t you think? So I got my prettiest dolliest lace set ready and I’ll purposefully moan his name really loud until he has no other choice to give into his urges and film and take me himself (Hyunjin is supposed to be dom but shy in this ask).

I will keep you updated on how things go! I hope your weeks are as exciting as mine and that we see each other real soon!

Lots of love!

1k Followers Event | shy cameraman and his doll

pairing: ferret!Hyunjin x fem!reader

genre: smut

warnings: orginally he's filming without her explicit consent (she doesn't care), dubcon, he calls her doll, filming, lingerie

event masterlist: #1kShootingStars

━━━━━━━━━━━━⋆｡°✩

Sweetie, the things you've been getting up to. How bold? 

He's lucky you seem to like him.  Good luck with your plan!

Love, Reia

━━━━━━━━━━━━⋆｡°✩

Your room smelled like roses and something sweeter, something only you wore when you wanted to be devoured.

Every corner was a trap. The dresser had one of Hyunjin’s little spy cameras peeking from behind a perfume bottle last week. Now it stared at the wall. You'd found three more, one tucked behind a potted plant, one half-buried in a plushie on your shelf, and the tiniest, barely-there one inside your travel jewelry box. Clever, sneaky little thing, but not clever enough.

Now they were all covered or dismantled, and he had no eyes left but his own, and if he wanted to watch, he’d have to really watch.

The lace set you’d picked was practically made for this. Icy white, thin enough to be translucent in the glow of your bedside lamp, with delicate powder-blue accents, ribbons trailing from the garter straps, a matching satin bow between your breasts. The cups sat like whispers on your chest, lifting and barely covering your nipples, trimmed in soft scalloped lace that felt like it melted on your skin. The panties were the same, high-cut and dainty, pressing between your folds like a secret. You looked like a doll someone forgot to shelve.

You slipped onto the bed with a graceful sigh, spine arching into the plush pillows as you arranged yourself just so, one leg bent, the other lazily draped open. Every movement deliberate, every sound just a little too sweet, drawing attention.

Your fingers drifted across your stomach, down between your thighs. You teased yourself with feather-light strokes, catching the slick wetness already gathering. You were warm, needy. Your body buzzed with anticipation, knowing he was probably just outside your door as you reached into your nightstand, grabbing a toy.

The toy clicked on, humming low and steady in your palm. You traced it along your folds pulling the delicate panties to the side, slow, gentle strokes from your clit to your entrance, and back again. A quiet gasp slipped from your lips. Then another, softer moan, as the vibration passed over your clit.

You didn’t fake the pleasure, that was the key, this wasn’t a performance. It was an invitation. A creak of floorboards. 

“Mm… fuck…” you sighed, lifting your hips slightly to meet the toy. “So good…”, then, louder, just enough to echo into the hallway: “Hyunjin…”

There was a pause outside your door. A breath caught. A hiccup. You smiled to yourself, eyelids fluttering as your thighs parted wider. The toy pressed firmer against your clit now, making your hips twitch and roll. The rhythm was delicious, circling, teasing, working you open inch by inch. Another moan fell from your lips, high and breathy, soaked in want.

You moaned again, his name again, with more hunger, breathier, as if saying it might summon him. “Hyunjin, please…”

The door creaked, just a little. Enough for you to see the shape of him, narrow shoulders, long limbs, big curious eyes peeking from the shadowed hallway. His hand clutched the doorframe like a lifeline.

“Come in,” you murmured, soft and beckoning, letting the toy fall still against your clit. “Don’t make me beg…”

He stepped in slowly, like prey instead of predator. Messy hair, cheeks burning, ferret ears twitching in tiny anxious flicks. His eyes dropped to your body, and stayed. He looked wrecked just from seeing you.

You reached down with both hands, spreading your folds with delicate fingers. Wet and shining. Ready for him. “I got all dressed up for you,” you whispered, voice low and sweet. “Want you so bad, Hyunjin. Just ask me, baby… ask me for what you want.”

His lips parted like he’d forgotten how to speak. His voice came out rough and unsure. “Can… can I have you?”

You nodded, slowly, deliberately, hips rocking just once. “Of course.”

He nearly tripped out of his clothes. Shirt discarded in a messy pile. Pants yanked down, boxers shoved aside. His cock sprang free, slim and flushed pink, already leaking. His hands trembled as he opened the condom, rolling it down with clumsy fingers.

“Can I… record?” he asked again, biting his lip.  

“You better,” you purred, hips tilting upward for the camera. “Want you to see how perfect you make me feel.”

Kneeling between your legs, phone in hand. He aimed the lens right at your dripping pussy. The camera light blinked on.

He pushed in slowly. The tip of his cock nudging your entrance, then easing past the tight, slick heat. The stretch made you shiver. You moaned for him, soft and breathless, and he groaned, nearly dropping the phone. The wet noise of him sinking into you was obscene. He bottomed out with a whimper, staring at where his cock disappeared between your folds.

“Fuck, fuck- y-you’re so pretty,” he breathed. “The prettiest little doll…”

He started to move, hips rocking shallowly as he held the phone steady. You clenched around him and he whimpered again, the camera catching the way your pussy fluttered around him with every thrust. 

And then he lost focus. The phone wobbled, dipped… He dropped it entirely when your hand tugged him forward by the back of his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. It was messy, so needy. Tongues brushing, teeth clashing. He fucked you deeper now, hips snapping harder, panting into your mouth.

You broke the kiss to moan, forehead pressed to his. “Don’t stop, please~ Hyunjin, please”

He groaned, almost crying, cock twitching inside you. “Gonna- gonna come~ oh my god, you feel so good, my sweet doll-”

Your orgasm hit like a wave. Your whole body tensed, back arching, mouth falling open in a high, breathy cry. You pulsed around him, tight and wet and squeezing. He followed nearly immediately with a desperate whimper, hips grinding deep as he filled the condom, breath caught in his throat.

You clung to each other, breath mingling, heat curling around you both like a blanket, he kissed your cheek. Soft, reverent. 

"Gonna paint you, so pretty, like a porcelain dolly", he breathed into your ear, placing soft kisses along your nape.

He stayed inside you for a long moment, your thighs wrapped around his waist. When he finally pulled out, he eased off the condom, tossing it aside before curling up behind you and wrapping his arms tight around your waist, nuzzling into your shoulder with a satisfied sigh.

Both of you forgot the phone on the bed beside you, still recording.

━━━━━━━━━━━━⋆｡°✩

taglist: @diekleinesuesse @tillaboo @felixsonlyrealwife @geni-627 @skz8riley @lezleeferguson-120 @pixie-felix @headfirstfortoro @alnex05 @baby-stay92 @encoredesires @androgynouscrownorbit @channiesluvrclub @my-neurodivergent-world @chims-dimple @bookswillfindyouaway @stellasays45 @angel-writes-skz-here @m-325 @0sunshinecryptid0 @beal-o @hug4helios

[latenightdaydreams]

will there ever be an update to the trucker konig series?

Yes! Thank you all so much for being so patient with me!

Trucker!König x Stranded!Reader Part 5 (fem)

Part 1, 2, 3, 4

Final Part

MDNI🔞

Master List

🚫Massive Triggers for self harm.🚫

>cw: fem/afab, pregnancy, self harm, cptsd, breastmilk

2.6k word count

🚚

Tag list: @vivasab0tage, @teddy2510, @nexthyperfix, @nachofriess, @mariapallett, @prettystrangething, @smolduck126, @vampie-com, @sagedbelladonna

.

.

Now you’re eight months pregnant. The reality that you might have this baby with König weighs heavily on you. His paranoia has gotten so much worse since seeing the flier. He’s blacked out all the windows in the bedroom. Day in and day out, you sit in darkness other than a single lamp. He doesn’t let you leave the top floor of the house anymore, and you spend most of your days in the bedroom. Dark circles have formed under your eyes and your body has grown weaker.

This morning, König comes in and removes your restraints, bringing you to his bathroom. He turns on the shower and pulls your stained night gown over your head.  His hand goes to your breast instantly and squeezes some milk out. A smile crosses his lips as he leans in and latches to you, squeezing your breast while he sucks.

The sweet milk filling his mouth make his moan, his cock getting hard in his pants. “I’m going to have to keep you pregnant. I can’t go without this.” His lips wrap back around your nipple and sucks.

König pulls his head back with a pop, milk still spraying from your nipples. He wipes his face before opening the shower curtains and gesturing you to enter.

“Clean yourself well. The doctors coming and I want him to see how well I keep you.”

Once in the shower you roll your eyes. König times you on how long you can take in here, so you quickly wash your body. He doesn’t allow you time to enjoy it. When you step out, he has to be the one to dry you before picking you back up and bringing you to the bed room. On the bed was a beautiful lavender maternity shirt and a pair of maternity leggings. König puts you down on your feet for you to get dressed.

“You look so beautiful, Maus. Our baby boy will be here sooner than you think.” König’s voice was cheerful. His eyes scanned your pregnant body up and down like a hungry wolf.

Your tired eyes meet his, you give him a weak smile. Once dressed, you look at yourself in the full-length mirror. The person you see staring back at you isn’t someone you recognize. You look as if you’re wasting away, the large parasite inside of you transforming your body into one you don’t recognize. The light in your eyes is gone, leaving behind an empty dead stare. Mirrors have become your enemy.

König walks up behind you and hugs you, his hands caressing your large swollen belly. His touch sends chills up your spine. You just want to be free.

“Remember to smile.” He whispers in your ear.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. König gives you a look, as if you should be on your best behavior, before turning and going downstairs to open the door. You walk over to the bed and lay down. His bed is much nicer than the one he has for you in your room.

“Mom is in here.” König says opening his bedroom door and in came the man with him. König has never told you his name, but to just call him doctor.

“How are you doing, y/n?” The doctor asks as he sets up his equipment on the dresser near the bed.

“I’ve been well.” You smile cheerfully and look at König to make sure you’re doing well.

“Good. Have you been feeling a lot of activity?”

The doctor sits on a chair next to your bed and lifts your shirt. He squeezes out blue gel on your stomach, placing the ultrasound transducer on to your stomach and spreads the gel around.

“Yes. He’s very active.” You watch the doctor's every move.

On the small screen you can see the shape of your baby. Usually, a mother would love to see this, but you can’t bear to look at the screen. König’s blue eyes were gleaming with happiness as the doctor checked the baby; all he does is tell you how long he’s waited to be a dad.

The doctor pulls away and König hands you a towel to wipe your stomach off with. They spoke about the due date approaching and my birth plan. At home, only König and the doctor. You lower your shirt but stay laying in his bed.

With a hand extended, the doctor comes over to say goodbye to you. “I’ll see you again in a few weeks. Hopefully, the baby will be ready to come.”

“Yes! That would be very good.” König interjects and kisses your forehead. “I’m going to walk him out, Maus. I’ll be back.”

König left you alone in the room. You just lie there relaxing. It feels nice to be in a comfortable bed, no restraints. No restraints…

Thoughts flood your mind when you decide that this is the exact moment you’ve been waiting for. You’re too weak to get up and run away, but you still have one option for escape. Planting your feet firmly on the ground, you pull your body up from the bed. The room is peaceful. The walls were a deep blue with the bright sun coming in through the windows.

You walk up to the window and open in, breathing in the fresh air you’ve been missing the past few months. The sun hits your skin, closing your eyes and letting the breeze blow over your face. Tears forming in your eyes as you open them. Thoughts of the family you left back home flood your mind, you’ll never see them again.

Without closing the window, you walk away and leave his room. Your steps are quiet, making sure König can’t hear you. You walk to the top of the staircase, looking to the left you can see into the nursery. A stuffed wolf is sitting on the rocking chair. Your gaze lingers on it before you close your eyes and let yourself fall forward.

König hears a loud crashing sound. Panic consumes his body as he turns and runs from the kitchen. At the bottom of the staircase, he sees you, face down and blood surrounding your body. Tears form in König’s eye as he kneels in front of you and touches your pulse. You’re still alive.

“You have to take her to the hospital.” The doctor said, König knew he was right.

You wake up, bright lights consume your vision. The sound of machines beeping and a hand on your arm fully wakes you up. The cold hand causes you to jump, looking over to see a woman wearing green scrubs. Her brown hair in a ponytail with a neutral look on her face.

“How are you feeling sweetie?” She was fluent in your native language. “I’m nurse Lena. I’ve been taking care of you.”

“My head hurts…” Your voice sounds strained.

“Yeah, it sounds like you had quite the fall.”

“She did, she scared me so much. I’m thankful that she and my boy are okay.” König’s voice cuts in as you feel his hand on your knee.

The look on your face alerts the nurse. Instantly, your eyes widen and your bottom lip begins to tremble. Your heart rate begins to speed and the monitors pick it up. Lena looks from you to König.

“Good thing your husband was there to find you in time.”

You look straight ahead and don’t say anything. Lena studies your face, the way you seem to dissociate. She sees the bruises on your wrist and ankles, bite marks on your neck and arms. She covers you with a blanket and hands you the remote to call for a nurse or turn the lights on and off before leaving you alone with König.

Once alone you can feel the tension in the room change drastically. König’s eyes bore into you, anger bubbling to the surface.

“What the fuck was that about?!” He snaps.

You look over to him and freeze, the anger in his eye is worse than when you ran away. There is nothing you can say that would make this any better. You know once you get back into his hands, you’re going to be in trouble.

“You could have killed my fucking son!” His voice booms louder than he meant for it to. It took everything in him to not strike you right now.

Tears begin to burn your eyes as you frown. “I’m sorry.”

König walks closer to you and puts his finger in your face. “You’re going to fucking regret this. I’ll make sure you can’t ever get up and walk again.” His voice is a terrifying, low growl.

Before he can continue, Lena walks back in. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave for this test. Only doctors and nurses can be in the room to remain sterile.”

König looked suspicious of her words, but bent down to kiss your cheek, whispering in your ear, “Don’t say a word.”

“I love you Liebling.” He squeezes your hand once more before walking away.

His heart is in his stomach as he leaves. Once through the doors, he sees hospital security waiting. Calmy, giving them kind smiles as he keeps walking past them. König isn’t stupid. He is aware of what is about to happen.

Without a second, though, König keeps walking. He gets to the elevator and presses for the garage. Looking at him, you wouldn’t guess he was panicking on the inside. It felt as if everything was crashing around him. His perfect wife, his son, his online audience, all gone. He has to start over again.

Once in the garage, he rushes to his car, dropping his cell phone on the ground and stomping it before getting into the car and speeding out. Tears swell in his eyes as he realizes he will never see his son.

“FUCK!” He shouts and punches the passenger's headrest out of anger.

In the room, Lena sits with you and looks into your eyes. “Are you safe?”

A wide frown appears across your face as tears stream from your eyes. You shake your head no.

“Is that man really your husband?”

“No.” Your voice shakes as you try to hold back sobs.

“Do you need help?”

“Please, yes. Please.” You grab your hair, pulling at it, as you sob. A huge mix of emotions overwhelms you as you realize you did it. You’re really safe.

Lena hugs you and tries to soothe you by rubbing your back. You wrap your arms around her, clinging to her for dear life. As much as she tries, there is no holding back the immense amount of sympathy she feels for you and cries with you.

“You’re safe now. I promise.” Lena’s voice cracks.

The door opens and security walks inside. They heard the sobs through the door. Lena turns her head to face them and nods to confirm her suspicions. They quickly talk on the radio to raise the alarm to not let the tall man with scars on his face leave. A guard stands at your door as others search for him.

“A social worker and police will come to talk to you, okay?” Lena pulls back and wipes her tears away.

“I don’t want this baby.”

Her eyes drop to your stomach and she nods. “We can set up an adoption plan for after birth.”

Hours pass when cops along with the social worker come walking into the room. Their faces are serious. One cop with hazel eyes and brown hair sits in front of you. He looks at you, looking at all the bite marks and bruises on your body. In his hand is a manila folder filled with paperwork. Finally, he speaks.

“I’m Officer Hauser. I’m here to ask you a few things to better help you. Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

He pulls out a photo from the folder and it’s of König’s truck. Your heart sinks as you just look at the photo. Your heart rate is picking up. The social worker walks over to you and offers you her hand to hold for support.

“Do you recognize this truck?”

“Y-yes.”

Officer Hauser nods and pulls out another photo of König, but in a military uniform.

“Is this the man that was here with you?”

“Yes.” You can feel the woman’s hand squeeze yours.

“You’re doing great.” She whispers to you.

“We believe you were one of multiple victims of an ex KorTac Colonel named Alexander J. König.” Officer Hauser speaks up. “He was said to have been KIA, but it appears that is false.”

“Did- did you arrest him?” The look in your eyes is so hopeful.

The officer clears his throat and looks from you to the social worker. He is trying to think of a way to say this.

“We haven’t been able to locate him. He’s disappeared. Every country has eyes out looking for him. We will find him. I promise.”

When you heard that every country was looking for him, you felt confident that he would be caught soon. Days passed, weeks, months; still no word on where König is. Labor and delivery went smoothly. Lena the nurse came in on her day off to support you through the labor and passing the child over to the social worker. You did what is best for you both.

It’s now been ten years since the whole ordeal with König. You’ve been in therapy, went back to school, met the love of your life, and settled down. It feels like a whole different life now. That person that was held captive is gone. You’re truly healing deep down inside.

Today is a warm day with a cooling breeze. You sit outside and close your eyes, taking in deep breaths. For a moment, you were your younger self standing by the window and taking what you thought would be your last breath of fresh air. A wave of anxiety crushes you and you begin to breath heavily. Thoughts of the son you gave up, he would be ten this year.

Just as your thoughts begin to spiral, you jump, feeling a hand on your shoulder. You look up to see your partner, Sam. They look down at you with a worried look in their eyes. One of their hands comes up and caresses the side of your face.

“Are you okay babe?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Sam crouches down in front of you, grabbing your hand to hold. “Talk to me.”

“I just…I had almost, like, a flash back…to—” Your voice trembles.

“You don’t have to say it, I know.” Their thumb caresses your hand. “You’re here with me. You’re safe. Remember that.”

“I got a letter in the mail today.” Your voice comes out as a whisper.

“Yeah? What was it?” Sam tilts their head.

“They found König.” Your eyes meet theirs. Sam's mouth drops open from surprise.

“How do you feel?”

“It feels like I can finally relax. Well, it did. I have to go back and testify. I have to see him again.”

“Oh, y/n.” Sam grabs you and holds you in a tight hug. “You’ve got this. I’ll be with you every part of the way.”

“Thank you.”

Six months later, you sit in front of a courtroom. Your eyes meet his familiar pale blue eyes. König scowls, looking at you with immense rage. You look back, showing no fear. He is nothing but a pathetic broken man who will die alone. Everything he did to you did not break you. You’re still here- thriving, all despite König.

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | part twenty-two preview

Five days. They're still here. You realize what's taking them so long; they're collecting food, drying meat into jerky and simmering wild strawberries into jams that Nereida cans. They have quite a lot of supplies with them. One of Kyle's backpack's is filled with ammo and another is stuffed with medicine. 

Kyle is easy to talk to. Nereida, too. Price—however—seems like he doesn't know what to think of you. Or maybe you're too insignificant to have crossed his mind much. 

That's fair. You don't need to all be friends.

Blue seems to like Ari. He's thirteen, two years older than her, which is evident in the way her head reaches his shoulders. She doesn't even say hi to you in the morning. Instead she shows him all her magazines and even the rabbits. He decides to name one Rocky, a friend for Grim. You can't be bothered; she needs another friend. Ghost isn't keen about them alone together, though. You heard him mutter to Kyle—keep an eye on him, Gaz.

The threat of summer starts to invite more and more sweat down your neck. Your hair has gotten so long. After tossing and turning on Ghost's bedroom floor, it became a nest of tangles. When Nereida, Ari, and Blue go for a dip in the pond, you go with them and soak it, then let the water settle so you can stare at your reflection. Blade sharpened, you saw a few inches off. Better. More practical. 

"I thought you were going to cut more," Blue comments.

"I don't want it that short, or else it's harder to braid."

As the two kids keep swimming, Nereida finds bunches of rosemary and seems more excited than you'd be about it. 

"It helps fight off odors," she explains when you ask. "Like when I have my period, so the Greys can't smell it as much."

When she puts it that way, you grab some, too. Then you start wondering about her and John. Do they have sex? They must. You've seen the way they are. Kisses to their shoulder and neck, arms around each other's waist. You've stared a few times only to catch yourself and quickly look away. How do they avoid pregnancy? You highly doubt either of them want to bring a new child into the world. You wouldn't.

Ari and Blue lay in the sun together. You scoot away to give them space, but overhear some of their conversation, anyway.

"Your dad is so cool."

Blue plays with a piece of her hair. "Oh? You think so?"

"Have you seen him? He's a beast. My uncle told me he got his name because no one could see him coming before he killed them."

"He can be a pain in my ass sometimes," Blue mutters. Her nose scrunches. "But he's taught me a lot of things. I'm pretty good with knives."

"Damn, I gotta see that."

She is beaming. "I'll show you when we get back."

Then, she leans over and whispers something in his ear. Whatever it is, he smiles and shakes his head in response.

She pulls away, sighing. "I wish you guys could just stay here."

Or maybe your dad will make us go with them, you think to yourself. In a way, it's comforting, that he is secretive with her, too. He still hasn't brought up the topic again. Either he hasn't decided, or he doesn't actually plan on keeping you updated. You try your best not to ruminate, but it's hard not to, especially when you have a hard time falling asleep on floorboards and are left with your thoughts in the dark. 

Which is why you're not feeling thrilled by the time you go into his room. He's already lying in bed, one hand bent behind his head while the other props open a book. He looks comfortable. Almost normal, even.

"How do you sleep with the mask on?" you remark, kicking off your shoes. 

His eyes lift from the page briefly. "Like a baby."

"How come Kyle has seen you without it and not me?"

His jaw flexes. "Jealousy doesn't suit you, Twix."

"And mental sanity doesn't suit you."

A light huff. Then, "Nice haircut."

When the room is dark, Ghost must get tired of hearing you toss and turn. He flicks on the small lamp, and you squint from the sudden light, stuffing the pillow over your head. There's shuffling before a hand rips the pillow from your face and tosses it onto the bed.

"Just get in the fucking bed. I won't bite." The sight of him standing above you, sweatpants low on his hips, consumes your vision. His voice is low but demanding.

"What, together?"

"I want good sleep. M'not going to get it on the floor, or listening to you up all night, so get in." His eyes peer down at you, half-lidded, before he lowly adds, "I'll be a gentleman, if you're worried."

You lift up and ignore the offer of his hand. "I'm not worried."

To protest would be embarrassingly juvenile when both him and you know you want to sleep there. Yet—your heart thickens. He watches as you crawl into the bed where the ceiling slants, tucking yourself under the quilt and curling against the very edge so that your knees float over it. The springs groan to your left and then heady warmth spills over you. Ghost keeps to his side, flat on his back, with his hands lying on his chest. His elbow pokes into your back no matter how carefully you try to inch away, and his thigh just barely brushes against your backside. 

The bastard doesn't say a word, nor does he make an effort to give you more space so you screw your eyes shut and fall asleep to the sound of his breathing. 

[erwinsvow]

you had lived in the house next to tannyhill your entire life. though it was smaller, much less grand and a little older, it was home.

your bedroom faced the opposite side of the street, looking out onto the other neighbors. you occasionally ran into sarah and wheezie on the block or during a stroll on your bike and your dad would sometimes be seen talking to ward in the backyard about the weather or the updates to the golf course at the country club.

but in all the years you had been living here, you had never caught the older cameron's attention—at least until the tree poked through your window during the most recent hurricane.

your bedroom—your most sacred space—was now a litter of broken glass and scratched up floors. it would be easy enough to replace, once your parents found someone reliable enough to do it, and the best solution offered to you was relocating temporarily to the guest bedroom. it faced the other side of the street, looking out over the cameron pool and, unbeknownst to you, rafe's bedroom.

at first you just move some of your things in, knowing your parents wanted you to stop running back to your old room until it was fixed. then more things come in, making yourself more comfortable, until it seems that this might as well be your new bedroom. it's easy enough—decorating walls with photos and posters, dragging in your bookshelf and appreciating the joint bathroom a little too much.

you get very comfortable—though you don't realize the curtains in this room are completely sheer. it faces windows of tannyhill that you've never seen another person in, so you assume they must be empty too.

that's when rafe sees you for the first time—changing in your bedroom through his window. you walk in with a white towel wrapped around your body, drying your hair while you pace around. he feels a little green, staring at pretty exposed skin and wet hair like it's the first time he's ever seen a half-naked girl.

you brush your hair and then get closer to the window, a foot perched on the windowsill while you rub lotion onto your legs, and then your arms. rafe's still staring, and though he's sure he looks like a creep if you glanced up and at him, he doesn't stop. finally you get to your neck, and just when he thinks you've finished, you loosen the towel and let it fall to the floor.

all the blood rushes out of his head—watching your hands massage in lotion to the soft skin of your stomach, your back, finally stopping at your tits before you're out of his eyeshot. when you get back in, you're holding clothes in your hand, slipping into a big t-shirt and a pair of panties. he can even make out their blue color from how hard he's staring.

it's a little late—the sun's gone down but your room is still illuminated with light. he sees you crawl into your bed, getting under the covers and picking up a book from the nightstand. like an idiot, he keep staring until you turn your lamp off and go to bed, and like an idiot, he's still hard.

the next morning—after an entire evening spent trying to resist staring at your sleeping form—he goes downstairs to ask someone about you.

"who's the new neighbor?" rafe tries to ask it but it comes out more like a demand—wheezie looks up at him confused and sarah ignores him.

"huh?" his younger sister questions back, looking up from her breakfast. "what new neighbor?"

"on the pool side. saw a new girl. when did they move in?"

"what are you talking about, rafe?" sarah says. "she's always lived there. how are you this ignorant?"

"well, i've never fuckin' seen her before-" he thinks he's starting to get a little angry—maybe more at himself. how is it that he's never seen you before? how is it that you're dumb enough to leave a window uncovered enough for him to stare at you all night, naked, no less?

"dad said the neighbor's tree fell into a window. that's why he's getting the one by their room cut down, they said it was really bad-"

"that's so horrible. the tree was there first-"

rafe steps away, back up to his bedroom and his view of you. you're not there now, he saw you leave the room earlier. he can't help it—he wonders where you went.

that night, the same thing happens. it's terrible—he even turns the light off in his bedroom so you don't get alarmed. you come in around seven, talking on the phone with someone, juggling ice cream and shopping bags. you hang up the phone a little later, putting on something on your television and eating the ice cream from your bed.

he should've stopped looking the second you lick melting ice cream from your fingers, but he doesn't. he watches you pick up your towel and walk away, coming back wrapped in it just like yesterday. same as then, you put on lotion, taking extra time to blowdry your hair. you don't read tonight—probably too tired, he guesses—and go straight to bed. after he's sure you're asleep, he flicks his light back on.

it goes on for longer than he realizes, longer than he expects. it's fun watching your little routine, how oblivious you are to the fact that he's watching it. and you seem nice—sweet, even, with the way you smile brightly whenever your parents come into your room, the way you swing your feet when you're on the phone.

he does a little more digging—true to what his idiot sisters said, you've lived in this house forever. you've been a few hundred feet away this entire time.

like every night—he flicks off his bedroom light at eight. you bounce in, doing everything you always do, exactly the way you always do it. something seems different though—you don't seem tired, crawling into your yellow sheets a little too early.

rafe stands up so fast when he realizes what you're doing, he almost knocks his chair flat to the ground. one hand snaking into your panties—pink tonight—and the other under your t-shirt, you rock against your hands. your room is only lit up with the light of a faint lamp, but it's enough for him to see everything—the way your face contorts into pleasure, the moan you try to muffle with the back of your hand, when you finally cave and take off your shirt.

he keeps staring, about as hard as he's ever been, watches you give up on your hand and fold a pillow in half instead, mounting it and giving him the show he didn't realize he'd been waiting for. and fuck, it's perfect, exactly how he thought you'd be.

rafe doesn't realize he's doing it, palming himself before giving in and taking out his dick, angry and red already, watching you. his own strokes match your pace against the pillow, and it doesn't take long at all—you cum with your head pressed against your sheets and he cums into his hand, so close to the window his breath fogs up the glass.

he gives in twice more—repeating the events of that night when you touch yourself again. the other times he's content just to watch you, not sure when that become such a pleasure in and of itself.

one night you come home with some shopping bags—nothing new. you strip down and try on a pretty white dress with orange flowers, tight where it needs to be yet nothing you couldn't wear around family. you twirl around your room, and then call someone on the phone.

he doesn't know how the thought gets in—maybe because your window was a little cracked and his was open all the way, sound traveling through the window and the words he hears leads to the idea of you, going on a date with someone else, in that dress, plants itself in his mind.

rafe paces around his room, not even caring if you see. you can't go on a date, not with anyone but himself, and the very idea that you'd do something like that makes him angry. it's irrational, though he hardly cares, all he can think about is how to make sure it doesn't happen.

the next night—saturday—you get dolled up, though rafe's not there to watch this time. you put on makeup and even do your hair all pretty, slipping into the dress and tidying your room before making your way downstairs. your date said he'd swing by around seven to get you—and though he didn't seem the type, he was already ten minutes late.

you wait on your front porch for another ten, before deciding to send a text. it bounces back. you call him, but it goes straight to voicemail. with the bitter realization that you've been stood up almost twenty minutes later, you're about to go back inside with watery eyes, when you hear the sound of footsteps in the distance.

"hi, is that you?" you call out uncertainly into the night. your porch lights are dim, only giving you a little glimpse of a man walking towards your home from the street. but he's not coming from your driveway—he's coming from the side, from the cameron house.

when he gets closer, you see that it's rafe cameron—the boy you've been living next to for years but haven't ever spoken to. even if you didn't know your neighbors and his sisters, you'd still remember him—you only nursed a crush on him for years.

"rafe?"

"hey, kid. what're you doin' out here all alone?"

"i.." you stop yourself short—you don't want to tell him you've been waiting for your date, it feels wrong. "i was just waiting for someone. um, what're you-" rafe doesn't let you finish.

"yeah, he's not comin'. not tonight, not ever."

"what?" nervous, frightened, your knees start to shake, feeling like you need to get far away right now.

"i said he's not coming. neither is anyone else. not goin' on any dates. get inside and get upstairs."

"rafe?" you question again, big eyes staring at your neighbor, fearful and confused.

"are you gonna make me repeat myself?" he asks, and almost automatically, you shake your head, complying, but still don't move. "go to your room."

you dart inside. rafe can hear your feet sprinting up the stairs. he turns off your porch light and walks inside your house, up the stairs, until he's face to face with your door with his hand on the knob. he twists, realizing you left it unlocked.