#when waiting by the front door or in a window spot if i enter her line of sight or look directly at her she mrrrs at me

[promise-you-doie]

J. Jaehyun | Coming Home

After hitting a dead end in your job search, you reluctantly return home to stay with your mom. However, fate has other plans as you unexpectedly cross paths with an old flame. Sparks fly as you navigate the complexities of past feelings and present circumstances, reigniting a passionate connection that refuses to be ignored.

Jaehyun x reader (Exes to lovers)

6k words

Fluff, Angst, Suggestive.

Playlist

As a little girl, you had this idyllic vision of what your adult life would be like. You thought by the time you entered your 20s, you would have graduated from college and easily walked into your dream career. But now, as an adult, you're confronted with the harsh realities of life. You only have $300 to your name, a coupon for a free pizza from your go-to pizza place, and a tech degree that seems to be of no use. To make matters worse, you've ruined your credit during your college years, and you've just ended a three-year relationship. It feels like everything is against you, and the only choice you have is to go back to your hometown to stay with your mom until you get back on your feet.

Leaving Los Angeles was hard enough, but landing in Connecticut felt like a blow to your pride. Everything looks the same as when you left, and the people haven't changed much either. You want to drop down to your knees and cry when you realize that this is where you're going to be for the next few months of your life. But you still have some dignity left in you, so you grab your luggage and try to compose yourself as you walk towards the pickup section to wait for your mom.

Blinking back tears, you inhale a deep breath and pull out your phone. You wait patiently as your phone searches for service in the area. When the service finally sets in, your phone blows up with 70 different alerts: two calls from your best friend, Joy, and three text messages from her telling you to have a safe trip and to keep your head up.

Six missed calls from your ex-boyfriend and seven text messages from him begging you to talk to him.

51 emails from the various job search sites that you signed up with and one singular text message from your mom.

Mom: Hey! I won't be able to make it. But don't worry, I'll have Jaehyun come pick you up. Can't wait to see you!

As if on cue, a familiar black 2015 Toyota Corolla pulls up right in front of you, and none other than Jung Jaehyun gets out of the car.

"This has to be a joke." You breathe, your shoulders raising as you do so.

He smirks the second he lays eyes on you, "Wow you haven't aged a bit."

You wish you could say the same about him, he'd grown a lot more mature since you last saw him. He wasn't the 18-year-old boy you were once head over heels for. He was way taller; he grew his hair out, and you could tell that he started hitting the gym.

"Why are you here?" You look up at him with folded arms.

He doesn't take you seriously. He never did. "Sorry, I'm late." He chuckles and takes your suitcase from beside you to load it in the back of his car.

Once he finishes his first task, he walks back around to open the door for you, gesturing to the passenger seat with both arms and a smile that you wish you could hate.

"I'm not getting in the car, Jaehyun." You remain in your spot, arms still folded over your chest.

"No?" He asks condescendingly.

You repeat, "No." Firm on your feet.

"Well, I guess. I'll see you there then." You watch him close the door and walk to the driver's side without sparing you a look. He starts the car and drives away, leaving you with two options.

You could chase after him and embarrass yourself, or you could remain stubborn and just call an Uber.

You choose to chase the car after realizing that the phone that you would use to call an Uber was sitting in the back of his trunk.

He watches you run after him from his rearview mirror; he slows down but refuses to stop until you were banging on the side of the window, begging him to stop. He got a thrill out of this, and you could tell.

"Did you change your mind?" He teases

Physically, Jaehyun was a completely different person; he grew up, well, you'll admit that. But personality-wise? He hadn't changed at all. He was still the same sarcastic asshole you met in high school.

You mutter, "I don't have my phone." As you slide into the passenger seat, out of breath. You subtly look around, taking notice that the car still smells the same way you remembered it; it was just cleaner now. Sooner or later, your eyes dart to the back seat, and Jaehyun chuckles when you do.

"So what's L. A like?" He asks suddenly, one hand on the steering wheel and the other draped over his thigh.

"It's fun and different. My boyfriend helped to introduce me to a lot of new things." You purposely mention your (ex) boyfriend just to see his reaction.

To your dismay, his reaction is as simple as none. He only asks, "How will long-distance work out for you? It didn't seem to work with us."

"We'll do fine." You say, trying to sound confident.

The car falls silent for a few moments before he starts up a new conversation. "I'm glad you're back."

The statement seems taunting, even if you know that's not how he means it. You always dreamt of moving away to a big city where no one knew who you were, and now that you're back home, it just feels like you are a failure.

"I'm not staying for long." You gaze out of the window.

"Since you're back in town, we should hang out sometime," he suggests, sneaking glances at you.

"I didn't come back to see you."

"Suit yourself, but remember I'm always just a phone call away."

As you step into the familiar house, you can't help but notice that everything looks the same. Though your mom has rearranged some things, the overall feel is still the same. She's standing at the counter, wearing her favorite white robe and sipping on a glass of wine. Even she looks the same, and you can't help but wonder if the past five years have been stuck in time.

Your thoughts are interrupted when Jaehyun speaks up from behind you, offering to take the bags upstairs. You're about to protest when your mom pulls you into a warm hug, rocking you back and forth. "Oh, my baby, I missed you so much," she coos, holding your face in her hands. "Have you been skipping meals?" She asks, eyeing you closely. When you shake your head, she mutters disapprovingly, "I hope you didn't start one of those stupid L.A diets." You hear Jaehyun snicker from behind you, but you can't break free from your mom's grip to glare at him.

"No, mom." You mutter shamefully like a middle schooler who just got through a scolding.

"We've got to fatten you up." She pinches your cheeks before she lets you go. Oh, you and Jaehyun should go try out the taco place down the street." Your mom swings her index finger between you and your ex-boyfriend. "They opened it up after you left. It's amazing, and the staff there is amazing, too."

You open your mouth to speak, but Jaehyun beats you to it. "I think she'd rather the tacos in L.A" he says as he stands beside your mom, looking down on you in a way that feels degrading. The only thing you can do is wonder when they got so close.

Your mom has always liked Jaehyun, but it seemed like she adopted him after you left. If you look close enough, you might find similarities in their facial features.

"Jaehyun probably has other things to do. Why don't we just go instead? It's been a while since it was just you and me." You waltz over and loop your arm around your mom's right arm. Opposite side of where Jaehyun was standing

"Or we could all go out together." Suggests, Jaehyun with a grin so big you could see his dimples.

Your mom's face glows at the thought as she pushes you aside. "That sounds like a wonderful Idea."

"How was your flight?" Joy's voice comes through the speaker of your phone while you prop it up against your old desk. You slide back in your seat to start your face care while simultaneously talking to her.

"Long, it should be illegal for infants to fly on a plane." You mutter, slapping the moisturizer on your face and rubbing it in circles along your cheeks.

Joy gets closer to the camera just to say, "That's harsh," but she doesn't bother to try to hide her laugh.

"Okay maybe not illegal, but there should at least be a secluded area for parents flying with newborns, or you know… just kids who still cry." You drag out the last part when you get closer to the mirror and run your index finger along the new pimple you have growing in.

"Like a daycare?" Joy asks

"That wasn't what I was thinking, but that works too."

"Okay enough about that, have you seen him yet?" Joy whispers against the speaker of her own phone and thankfully so because just as soon as she mentions him Jaehyun comes walking into your room without a notice or a knock.

"Dinners ready." He stops at the entrance of your room but gets closer when he sees that you're on the phone. Close enough for him to show up on your camera screen and wave his hand around. "Hi, Joy." He smiles tauntingly.

"I have to go," you mutter and hang up the call before either of them can get another word in. Turning in your seat to ask "Why are you here?" for the second time today.

His smile doesn't falter, and he doesn't back away, either. "What? You don't want to see me?" he teases.

"I don't," you murmur, pushing him away with the palm of your hand and rolling your eyes. You stand up when he backs up, but his eyes remain on you. You hate that you didn't hate it, and you hate that you don't hate him.

You always thought you would be angry if you ever saw him again, you expected that you'd shed a few tears even. But all of that was furthest from the truth because now that you saw him again you were only reminded of the love you kept harbored away for him.

You were gonna be fine, as long as you kept your distance.

"You invited him over for dinner?" You quietly mutter to your mom, hoping that Jaehyun won't hear you.

"Don't be like that, he came over all the time while you were gone. That's not gonna change because of a little breakup."

"But Mom." You whine.

She hears none of it as she continues setting the table and praising Jaehyun for how helpful he was compared to her own child. You grimace at the statement before plopping down at the table with your arms crossed.

Jaehyun takes the seat across from you, and your mom takes the one adjacent. "Isn't this wonderful? It's been so long since I've seen the two of you together." She smiles and clamps her hands together.

"Is he going to come over every night?" You ask, wiping the smile off of your mom's face. You've always been a fan of your mom's cooking, but now you were picking at the rice and mixing it around. Your spoon clinks against the bottom of the glass plate before you go to take a spoonful.

Sucking in a hiss when your mom smacks your arm, "Why don't you be nice?"

"I was just asking." You whine once more but pull your lips into a thin line when you realize that no matter what, she's going to take his side and Jaehyun's enjoying it.

"You know the carnival is opening tomorrow." Your mom starts again, "You guys should go out and have fun. It's summer, and you're still young."

"I can't. I have to…" You look around for any excuse that won't get you slapped for a second time. "Unpack."

Your efforts count for nothing as your mom slaps you again on the arm. "Oh, don't be stubborn." She laughs. "Jaehyun, you aren't busy, right?"

"No, mam." He smiles, specifically at you.

"And neither are you," she says when she looks at you. "So it's settled; you can pick her up tomorrow." Your mom claps her hands together with a bright smile.

"No, I really can't." You wave your hand around.

"Well, you don't have a job, do you?" is all your mom has to say to make you lower your chin and shake your head. "Then I don't see why not."

"Besides, you could use a picker-upper since you broke up with that little boyfriend of yours." She adds unsolicited. You want to hide, curl up into a ball, and just vanish, disappear, and go anywhere but here.

"You broke up?" Jaehyun pipes up with a smirk.

You scramble to defend yourself, but the best you can come up with is, "We're just taking a little break."and that's all you get to say before your mom interrupts.

"Say, Jaehyun, don't you have that pan I let you borrow? I think I might need it for tomorrow night's dinner."

He nods, "Yeah, I can bring it tomorrow if you'd like."

"No, you might forget. Y/n, why don't you ride with him and bring the pan back."

The mention of your name makes you choke on your food, "What?"

"That'll give you guys some time to catch up." If you didn't know any better, you would think she was doing this on purpose. But you did know better and knew she was doing this on purpose.

"But it's late, and he has bad eyesight." You point, searching for any way that you could to get her to change her mind. Redacting when you see the way he's looking at you. "I mean, it's never safe to drive at night."

"That's more of a reason for you to go. I wouldn't want him stranded on the side of the road." says your mom.

"What about me?"

"If you're ready, we can go now." She ignores you when Jaehyun stands up in his chair.

"Yes, you two get going. I'll clean this up." Your mother hurries you out of your seat, pushing you along with Jaehyun to the door. You don't even get to say anything before she's waving and slamming the door in your face, locking you out of the house with your pajamas, bunny slippers, and your ex.

"You coming?" Jaehyun yells, standing on the passenger side of his black car.

You look at the door once and let out a long, deep sigh as you stomp to his car, sliding past him and into the passenger seat, but not without rolling your eyes.

"If you keep rolling your eyes, they're going to get stuck in the back of your head," Jaehyun teases before closing the car door.

He gets into the car shortly after and starts it immediately. You hope to keep the car ride quiet, but Jaehyun has other plans as he starts returning to his place. "I see long distance isn't your strong suit."

Naturally, you want to roll your eyes. You notice it's just a common occurrence when you are around him. "I already told you were working things out; I just didn't wanna hold him back."

You turn to him when you hear a small laugh. "Working things out," he repeats. "How come I didn't get that option?"

"You didn't deserve it."

"So you really love him, huh?" He glances over to see your reaction, and based on your facial expressions alone, he knows he's right.

He knows the answer, but you're not as sure. Is it possible for you to love two men at once?

"I don't wanna talk about this tonight, Jaehyun." You sigh and gaze out of the window. Per your request, he remains quiet for the rest of the ride. But now that you're sitting in complete silence, all you have to do is think. Think about the feelings and emotions you thought you had left in the past.

What would things be like if you had never ended things with Jaehyun? Would you have met your ex? Would you be conflicted right now sitting in the passenger seat of your ex's car while thinking about your other ex?

"Are you coming in?" Jaehyun asks, holding his apartment door open for you.

You prop up against the wall behind you and fold your arms. "No, I'll stand right here," you say, but swiftly run behind him when you hear someone else leave their apartment. The last thing you needed was someone else to see you standing outside his door, whether they knew you or not.

"Hi, Johnny." Jaehyun turns to wave at the neighbor against your wishes, smiling at you when you glare at him. "Don't worry, he's not gonna bite you."

Your only response is another glare; he simply smiles while you walk past him and into his apartment.

This seems to be the nature of your relationship: You're hot-headed and easily irritated, while Jaehyun is sarcastic and loves to get under your skin. It's always been like this, and there was just no telling how the two of you ever managed to fall in love.

Jaehyun stands behind you when you scan his living area. It's exactly what you'd expect from a man, and especially Jaehyun. There's a couch and some small decor here and there, but it feels cold and bare for the most part.

It's almost hard to believe that this is where he spends most of his time.

You keep your thoughts to yourself and follow him into the kitchen, where you continue to look around.

"Seems like you and my mom got close," you speak, hoping to distract him from how you are inspecting everything in his apartment.

Jaehyun answers, "Yeah, I guess you could say that." His head dips into the cabinets under the counter, searching for the pan that brought him here in the first place.

You raise your hands to each arm and sigh, "So was that on purpose… or?"

"She was the closest thing I could get to you." He says casually, as if everyone's heard that before.

You, on the other hand, aren't as casual about the subject as he is. You drop your arms to your side and start looking around again for a sudden change of conversation, which Jaehyun misses with his head still tucked under the cabinets.

"I like what you've done with the place; it's cozy." You lie, and you're glad he isn't looking at you because you know he can tell that you are with just a glance.

You forgot that he could also tell when you were nervous. He's always been able to read you like a children's book, and he always used that against you.

"It wasn't as easy for me to jump into another relationship as fast as you did." He stands up with the pan in his hand. The look he gives you makes your face feel hot; you begin choking over words.

"I- I don't wanna talk about this."

"I do." He slides the pan back when you reach for it but closes the distance between you. He gets so close that you have to crane your neck to look up at him. He's so close that you're scared he might hear the beat of your heart. He's so close that you could just kiss him. "I missed you, Y/n. More than you could ever imagine."

You admit you still have feelings for Jaehyun but won't act on them. After all, you're a firm believer in "Control your actions, not your emotions," but he's only getting closer and closer.

You start to rethink your philosophies when you breathe in the scent of his cologne. Your skin feels hot and you don't know how long you plan on holding back from him.

It's going to happen sooner or later, so why not sooner? You think as you allow him to take the last step needed to close the space between you.

When his lips connect with yours, you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, and suddenly, he lifts you up by the back of your thighs to carry you back to his bedroom.

The bright yellow light beaming over your closed eyelids wakes you up from your deep slumber. The arm wrapped tightly around your abdomen causes your eyes to nearly bulge out of your head.

Your clothes sprawled on the floor is enough evidence to prove that last night wasn't just a dream. Being pretty much naked in nothing but one of his T-shirts is just the icing on top.

You really slept with your ex.

"Jaehyun," you whisper, gently tapping his arm, which is more than enough to wake him up.

He groans, "Good Morning" as he starts to lay kisses all over the back of your shoulders. And if possible, his hold on you just gets tighter as he pulls you back towards him.

"I have to go home."

"Sure thing, baby." He says, laying one kiss on the back of your head and another on your cheek. With that, he rolls off the bed and begins getting dressed, smiling like an idiot while he does so.

You choose to ignore it; for once, he wasn't acting like an asshole, and you just need some quietness while you take the time to collect your clothes from around the floor.

However, when you reach the car, your thoughts spew like a waterfall. "We can't do that again." You don't give him time to respond, to neither agree nor disagree, before you go on a tangent that lasts the entire 12-minute car ride.

"Okay," Jaehyun responds after pulling into the driveway of your childhood home.

He's never really been much of a talker; if anything, he just liked to say simple things that he knew would piss you off. You're certain this has to be one of them. Unfortunately, that doesn't stop your blood from growing hot.

"okay?" You repeat with squinted eyes. "I just told you I never wanted to see or talk to you again and just go 'okay?"

"What do you want me to say?" He almost laughs, and that just riles you up more.

"Anything else? Did you even mean everything you said yesterday, or were you just looking for sex?" He doesn't say anything at first. He looks away and gazes out the window for what feels like half an hour but is only 8 seconds.

"I don't know." He shrugs

"You don't know?" You repeat him yet again.

"Well, do you want me to tell you the truth?" He asks calm as ever, completely opposite to you.

"No, I don't." You murmur, stomping out of his car and slamming the door behind you.

Jaehyun lets you get to your porch before he rolls his passenger seat window down and shouts, "I'll pick you up at two." When you turn around, you're met with a dimpled smile and his crescent eyes.

If you weren't already so angry, you would've matched his smile, and for a second, you almost do.

He always knew how to make you mad and how to make you laugh. That's why you fell in love with each other, and it only took a special set of dimples to remind you of that.

The sun is still young at 2 p.m., well, 1:51 p.m., to be exact. You were coming to terms with the fact that you had slept with your ex and that you'd been counting the seconds, waiting for two o'clock to come.

The knock at the door sends you rushing down the steps, nearly tripping over your own feet. You barely contain your smile when you see Jaehyun standing on the other side of the door.

"You're early," you scoff, walking past him and closing the door behind you. Jaehyun does nothing but smile at you, reaching for your hand to pull you closer to him as he guides you to his car.

He leaves a kiss on your cheeks and mumbles, "I couldn't wait to see you." To which you roll your eyes in an attempt to hide the way your lips turn up against your cheeks.

The wind from outside seeps into the car as he drives through the highway, one hand interlocked with yours and the other on the steering wheel. He glances at you a few times and, after the third time, says, "You know this is a date, right?"

You turn your head towards the window and pretend like you can't hear him. Only for him to roll both windows up and repeat, "You know this is a date, right?"

"I didn't agree to a date." You retort, "I'm only here cause my mom forced me to."

"Is that why you're still holding my hand?" He asks, his eyes focused on the road ahead.

You shift in your seat, but you don't dare to let go of his hand. If anything, your grasp on him just gets tighter, and you go back to looking out the window. "My hand is cold, and yours is warm," you murmur.

Your answer warrants him to bring your hand up to his lips and leave a chaste kiss or a few. He does that often throughout the evening, randomly pulling you closer to him just to leave kisses on your cheek or forehead.

It feels like high school all over again. Jaehyun's still staring at you like a lovesick fool, and you still get butterflies in the pit of your stomach when you make eye contact. "This isn't a date," you state suddenly.

The warm breeze, carrying the scent of summer, gently tousles your hair as you gaze up at your ex. "And I meant what I said. After this, I don't wanna see you again." The air is filled with the sounds of young teens cheering and laughing, their voices blending into a joyful cacophony.

Jaehyun uses his index finger to move the hair out of your face and push it behind your ear. "Okay," he says softly, with his hand still lingering on your cheek. His thumb softly grazes your lower lip.

You breathe, "I'm serious, Jae." But the use of his nickname and the way you look at him tells him you're anything but serious.

"I know." He says, switching his focus between your eyes and your lips. He kisses you, but you take the initiative to pull him closer by the nape of his neck, feeling the heat of his body transform onto yours.

The feeling is all too familiar,‌ like euphoric bliss or, rather, a certain type of high you don't ever want to come down from. "I missed you." You slur against his lips, arms still tied around him so he can't go anywhere.

"I know." is all he says before he leans in to kiss you again.

The car is pretty silent other than the small taps of the raindrops on the windows and the music playing on his car radio at the lowest volume. Occasionally, you can hear vibrations from your phone.

Jaehyun's hand is firmly wrapped around yours, and it's been like that for the past hour. He pulls you right back every time you try to slip away. "So what about Sicheng? How is he?" you ask, resting your head against the back of the seat.

"He's married now," Jaehyun answers. The tips of his lips turn upwards into a smile when he sees your widened eyes.

"To whom?"

"I don't know her name." He looks off to the side as if to think. "They got married a year ago."

"I would've never thought." The car falls silent again, and just as soon as it does, your phone buzzes for probably the hundredth time of the night.

Jaehyun lets your hand go just long enough for you to check your messages.

There are over 20 missed calls from Joy and one text from her telling you to call her ASAP.

Then, there are three messages from your ex begging you to call him. His contact is still saved as "my love." It's been like that since you first got together, and you hadn't thought of changing it after you broke up.

Well, it's more like you couldn't bring yourself to do it. If you were to change his name and block him, things would be real for you. And you were desperately clinging on to hope. Maybe things will work out; you'll go back to L.A and be with him again.

"Are you okay?" Jaehyun pulls you out of your thoughts, sliding his hand into yours and interlocking your fingers.

"Yeah," you shake your head and lock your phone.

You have no idea what tomorrow might bring, but for tonight, you just want to sit with Jaehyun, even if it is just for tonight.

"Hello." It's probably 6 am if you had to guess. Birds are singing right outside of your window, and the sun isn't all the way up yet.

You sit up in your bed with one hand holding your phone to your ear and the other moving your hair out of your face. "Why didn't you call me back?" Joy's voice echoes through the speaker of your phone.

"Maybe because I was asleep?" You snap back, eyes barely open.

"I got you a job." That's enough to have you leaping off your bed with your eyes jumping out of the socket.

"Say, sike." You chirp. "Please don't say sike."

"I'm serious; I told them you were out of town, but you can start next month." She explains, calm as ever.

"Joy, you are amazing." You exclaim into the phone. "Have I ever told you you're the bestest best friend in the entire world?"

"You've mentioned it a few times." You don't have to see her to know that she's smirking. "I have to go now. I just wanted to tell you about the job. I'll call you back later."

She doesn't give you time to say anything else before the call is dropped. You throw your phone down and plop down on your bed. You can't help but smile, thinking about how things are gonna go back to normal.

However, when you feel your phone vibrate against your side and you read Jaehyun's name ‌off your screen, your smile fades. You were so excited about going back to L.A that you forgot about him.

For the next few days, you do your best to forget about everything and just spend time with Jaehyun, whether it be chatting in his car or even helping him redecorate his sad and cold jail ce- apartment.

"What's the catch?" Jaehyun asks suddenly, his index finger twirling in your hair. You shift your ‌ head against his chest to look at him.

"What are you talking about?"

"You've been acting really weird lately," he explains, "You're all clingy now. Which I like, but it also feels too good to be true." You can see a shift in the way he looks at you and in the tone of his voice. "It feels like you might try to leave me again."

"I'm just trying to make up for lost time." You're too afraid to tell him that your time with him is limited. Too afraid of his reaction and of your own emotions.

"You don't have to lie to me." He sits up against the headboard of his bed, and you do the same thing. "I knew this was only temporary, and I know I shouldn't have let my feelings get involved again." Jaehyun takes a deep breath before continuing, "But I love you. I think I always will."

When you don't say anything, he keeps going. "Let's try again." He says.

"Jaehyun-" He cuts you off with a kiss, not wanting to hear ‌your rejection.

"We can move to L.A together." He speaks against your lips, "And we can find an apartment. I'll get a job, I'll sell my car if I have to."

His determination makes you giggle, and soon enough, he starts laughing with you."I thought you hated the city."

"I do. But you love the city, and I love you,"

"I didn't know you were such a romantic." You beam, butterflies erupting as he reaches to move the hair out of your face and behind your ear.

"But we'll have to move my son out too. I'm not asking you to play stepmom, but I do want to be in his life." Jaehyun speaks casually, but your jaw is growing heavy, and the butterflies are starting to feel like poison or mini daggers hitting your gut all at once.

You only manage to squeak "What?" Even though there are so many questions, you want to ask.

"I'm kidding." He breaks into a laugh, but you're still left confused and slightly heartbroken.

"That's not funny, Jae." You whine when he pulls you in to leave a kiss on your forehead.

"It's hilarious, baby."

You jump up off the bed the second your phone begins to vibrate, running to the door and checking the doorway to make sure Jaehyun is occupied before you slowly and softly close the door to answer the call.

"Hello?" You breathe into your phone speaker as you tiptoe back to the bed.

"Hello? Girl, why are you whispering." Joy asks, "Where are you?"

You don't have to answer that question because Jaehyun answers that question for you when he busts through the door to ask "Do you want take out or should we cook tonight?"

"Take out." You answer, covering your phone mic.

Still, your best friend hears everything, "Who is that?" She questions.

"Okay, do you want Pizza or Chinese food?" Jaehyun asks, leaning in between the doorway.

"Y/n, that better not be who I think it is." Joy scolds from her end of the line.

You answer Jaehyun to ignore Joy. "I don't know what you choose," you say urgently, anything to get him out of the room.

"I know how you are, baby. I don't want to get you something that you don't feel like eating," Jaehyun explains, walking further into the room.

The closer he gets, the louder your heart beats and the more your best friend yells at you. "Baby?" She barks through the speaker and right into your ear.

You rush to hit the mute button, but with your eyes focused on Jaehyun, you slip up and accidentally put your best friend on speaker phone. "Y/n, you better answer me right now."

When her voice rings through the room, your heart stops beating altogether. For the second time this month, you want to vanish, disappear into thin air, and cease to exist.

"Hi, Joy." Jaehyun greets with a large grin that shows his dimples on full display.

Joy only responds in a monotone, "Jaehyun." You rush to say, "I'll do a plain cheese pizza." Once again, you are just trying to get him out of the room.

"Sure thing, baby." He cooes, with a kiss to your cheek. Soon enough he's out of the room and you're alone again. With a deafening silence.

"Things happened." You hesitantly speak.

"Things like what?" Your clothes slipped off, and you fell into his bed?" You hear a sigh immediately after she snaps, and you're too afraid to say anything else. "What about—"" I don't wanna talk about him," you interject.

"Okay, but does he know you're coming back?" Joy asks, referring to Jaehyun. When you don't answer, she gets worried. "You are coming back, right?"

"Of course I'm coming back. I just haven't told him yet." You trail off on the last part.

She doesn't say anything for a long while, and neither do you. You sit in your own disappointment, you didn't need her to tell you that you messed up because you already knew that.

"Y/n, I'm only saying this because I love you…" It doesn't take a genius to know that what's coming next is about to hurt. "You're being really stupid right now."

That hurt a lot more than you thought it would. "Wow, thanks, Joy."

"Listen, I don't want you to get hurt again."

"I'm not, he's changed, and things are different now." You explain although you're not even sure you believe it yourself.

"Then why haven't you told him yet?" She asks, but you don't answer. "You're going to give him the chance to break you again?"

"He's not," you cry, pulling against the ends of Jaehyun's oversized shirt, which you stole out of his drawer to wear.

Joy can hear the tone of your voice soften, so she softens hers as well, but it doesn't change the gravity of her words. "Do you remember how long it took for-" "Please don't mention him." You interrupt her, already knowing who she's about to bring up.

"Look I'll figure things out, but for now I just wanna be happy." You continue, "I think I deserve that."

"You do, Y/n. You deserve nothing but happiness, and if he makes you happy, then don't let me get in your way. but don't forget who you have waiting for you in California with open arms." Joy attests

"I know you're just looking out for me, but I don't know if I can go back to him knowing what I did while I was here."

"You know better than I do that he'd never judge you." And you did. You knew that very well. Your ex never made you feel insignificant or anything of the sort. He never shamed you or made you feel guilty for anything. But that didn't change the fact that you would judge yourself.

"I just need time to think about everything." You say, almost in a whisper.

"I trust that you'll do the right thing." Joy reassures, "I'm gonna go now. I love you."

"I love you too." You say before hanging up the phone and throwing it on the other side of the bed. The call leaves you feeling nothing but confused, and Jaehyun notices it the second he walks into the room.

Your subtle pout and the way you're holding the pillow to your chest tell him exactly how you're feeling. "What's wrong?" He takes the seat beside you, tugging at your waist so you can scoot closer to him.

"Did you mean what you said about moving to L.A.?" You ask first. Your hand rests over his when he reaches to stroke your cheek.

"I wouldn't play about that Y/n"

You take a deep breath when you get the answer you want. "Joy got me a job, and they want me to start next month."

"What? That's amazing, baby." He cooes, grabbing each of your hands. "We're going to L.A"

He reacted way differently than you imagined he would; the look on his face tells you he's sincere, and the flutter in your heart makes you hope that he really is. You don't think you can't take another heartbreak, not from him.

As you stand in your old room, the brown paper box at your feet, you can't help but feel a strong sense of nostalgia wash over you. You take in every detail: the way the sunlight filters through the window, casting a warm glow on everything in the room; the creaking sound of the wooden floorboards under your feet, each one carrying a memory of its own; and the scent of your old perfume that still lingers in the air, like a faint echo of a bygone era.

This time, as you prepare to leave, it feels different. It feels like you're saying goodbye for good, and the thought of leaving this place forever fills you with a deep sense of loss. When you first arrived in Connecticut, you couldn't wait to leave, but now you find yourself wishing you could stay just a little bit longer so you could relive the memories of your past, which you hold so dear.

However, you know that the real reason you're dreading going back is that you don't want to face your ex. The thought of telling him that you're now in a relationship with the man you used to cry to him about fills you with anxiety. You're unsure of how he'll react, and the mere prospect of facing him makes your heart race with fear.

The more you think about it, the more you realize that things are not looking good for you. You're caught between your love for your new partner and your fear of the unknown.

Suddenly, your mom yells from downstairs, "Y/n, someone is here for you." You don't pay much attention to the hesitation in her voice, too lost in thought. You wish you had because when you reach the bottom of the stairs and look up, Doyoung, your ex, is standing right across from you with a saddened smile and a black duffle bag. Your heart skips a beat as you see him. You hadn't expected him to be here, but now that he is, you don't know how to react. You mutter, "What are you doing here?" As you wrap your arms around yourself, unsure of what to do next.

Part 2

[ladyveronikawrites]

Scar - Chapter Five

PAIRING: Jolly Karlsson x Sam (ofc)

What if your teenage daughter's fantasy became your reality?

Summary: Samantha surprises her daughter, Lyric, with tickets to see her favorite band for her sixteenth birthday. What's supposed to be one the best days of her daughter's life, also becomes hers.

CW: none, just dadomens trying to find momomens

happy bday jolly💛

Masterlist

word count: 2.3k

Sam’s chest tightens as Jolly’s carefree laughter fills her car. It feels like an eternity since someone other than Lyric was sharing the front seat with her, let alone another man. She tried the online dating thing– but with her crazy work schedule and Lyric’s after-school and weekend practices– it doesn’t leave her much time for dating.

“So how long have you lived here?” Jolly’s sudden and intriguing question softens the pressure in her chest. No other man has asked me that before.

“I grew up here, but left when I graduated high school,” she sucks in a shaky breath as she continues. “Fate would have it that I would come back when James did; we always knew we wanted to raise a family here.” 

“James sounds like a really great guy and a wonderful father to Lyric,” Jolly says softly as Sam pulls into the hotel parking lot. 

“He was the best at everything,” she confesses as she pulls her SUV into the nearest parking spot to park. “The best father, the best handyman around the house, a supportive husband…” Jolly watches as her green eyes shimmer bright before a tear wells and cascades down her cheek. 

Swiftly, he unbuckles slipping from the seat belt to lean closer to Sam. His hands hesitate as he ponders if she is comfortable with him touching her but when he catches the small nod he moves in to cup her face in his hands, wiping away her tears with a gentle brush of his thumbs. 

“Thank you,” her whisper fills the space between them. 

He would give anything to take away her pain and sorrow, but all he can muster is a small smile that he hopes conveys how he feels. As Jolly begins to pull away, he finds moist lips pressed against his. He tenses to the touch at first but when she parts her lips for him, he’s done for. He leans in, mouth hungry, tongue ready to explore more. He licks at her bottom lip, threading his fingers through her hair, pulling her in closer. And he stops. Shit, what if I went too fast? What if I misread the signs? Wait, did she actually kiss me?

Something stirs in Sam when Jolly touches her face. His hands are so warm and comforting that the tears she was holding back finally break. An unfamiliar emotion bubbles in her stomach as Jolly leans forward; the scent of him overwhelms her senses. Before her brain can stop her heart, she leans. His warm lips against hers sparks electricity down her spine. She can’t get enough. She melts into Jolly when he runs his fingers through her strands. His tongue is moist against her bottom lip and she is more than ready to let him in. Her lips still burn when he abruptly pulls away. When her eyes pop open she finds Jolly with a pained expression on his face. 

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes quickly. “Did I overstep?” His thick accent accentuates the concern in his voice.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Sam reassures the Swede with a smile.

Suddenly, the tall guitarist yawns, stretching as best he can in the small space, causing Sam to do the same. “Wanna go up to my room?”  With a shy giggle and a playful punch to Jolly’s arm, Sam agrees. 

Jolly opens the door of his room with a sweeping gesture of his arm, “Welcome to my crib.” His husky tone turns into a snicker when Sam smacks him in the arm as she steps by.

“You’re a dork,” she huffs a laugh as she enters the room. 

“I know,” he winks at her before threading his fingers to hers and leading her further into the room. There’s a large white bed against a navy blue accent wall and across from it hangs a flat-screen TV. An L-shaped couch fills the space under the window next to the bed. 

“This is where the magic happens so make yourself comfy, Sam. There’s water and booze in the mini fridge and the TV remote is on the bedside table. I’m going to take a quick shower.” She makes a small noise in understanding but doesn’t move from the window as she takes in the view of her small hometown. The shrill of the tap turning on pulls her from her nostalgia so she makes her way to the bed. She steps out of her beloved Converse, settles into the covers, and starts to scroll through the TV guide. 

Loud knocking stirs Sam awake. Rolling to her side, something digs into her stomach. Her eyebrows scrunch together when she finds the remote strangled in a death grip. Way to go, Sam, you fell asleep clutching onto the remote, like an old grandpa. 

Groaning, she slides out of bed and stretches rubbing her neck. Fuck me. I’m going to need to see my chiro on Monday. I hope she can squeeze me in. God, I hope Jolly doesn’t think I’m lame. Wait, did we kiss-

“You’re awake!” Jolly’s bright voice breaks through Sam’s post-nap brain fog. When she turns her head following the sound she gets lightheaded. Swaying slightly, she grips the arm of the couch and settles herself onto the furniture, hoping Jolly didn’t notice. If he did, he was gracious enough not to say anything as he continued. “The guys are heading out to see a movie, want to come?” 

“Sure!” she says without hesitation, ecstatic to spend more time with Jolly. But soon insecurity takes its rightful place in the pit of her stomach. “But let me fix my hair real quick,” she rushes by him, nerves bubbling in her stomach– but when Jolly grips her wrist, it’s not forceful, but just enough that she stops dead in her tracks. The setting sun casts a warm glow on Jolly’s long brunette hair forming a halo of light around him. 

“You look beautiful, Samantha.” Jolly takes a step closer closing the space between them. He tucks in a lock of hair behind her ear before brushing the pad of his thumb over her cheek. Sam feels her cheeks warm to the delicate touch and finds herself leaning into him. Looking up at him, his expression is soft- the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles at her. She sneaks a glance at his lips and back at his eyes hoping he didn’t notice. She wants him to kiss her, wants to feel more of his touch, wants to feel love again– but her old heart is so scared. Her heartbeat pounds in her ears as Jolly leans down, willing her eyes shut she balls her shaking hands into fists. “Stay”, she tells herself “don’t run.” His hot breath is warm against her cheek. Her heart feels like it’s going to burst from her chest– suddenly she jumps when there’s a knock at the door.

“Hey lovebirds, you two ready?” Noah yells from the other side of the door. Sam’s cheeks flame red at the nickname and she curls into herself overcome with shyness. 

“He’s an ass, isn’t he,” Jolly chuckles squeezing Sam’s shoulders. Her small smile spreads into a wide grin, “yeah he is.” He pulls her into him and she unfurls her arms to hug him back. For a few breaths, they remain as her heartbeat steadies, the scent of him soothing her senses and her nerves. 

“Ready?” he hums as he twirls his fingers in her hair. 

“Yeah,” she says softly pulling from the embrace. This time she doesn’t stop herself from threading her fingers into his as they walk to the door. When the pair reach the lobby Sam finds the rest of the band lounging on various couches and chairs and Matt is pacing. 

“The Uber is late,” Matt groans pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“I’ll drive!” Sam chimes in as she squeezes Jolly’s hand despite her insecurity still looming in the back of her mind. 

Matt stops dead in his tracks, “Are you sure?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, I'm sure,” she lets go of Jolly’s hand to walk past Matt. “Come on.” She waves over her shoulder for the band boys to follow her. Jolly meets up with Sam to open the car door for her. Before he ducks out he pecks a kiss to her cheek. She giggles as she settles in the driver's seat. 

“Alright boys, buckle up please.” She grins, looking up at the rearview mirror as Matt, Noah, Nick, Nicholas, and Bryan pile In.  A mutual groan rumbles through the car. “Yes mom,” they grumble and groan in unison. 

There are a scattering of families and couples in the theater as the pair stroll in behind the rest of the guys. Sam is about to slide in beside Nicholas when Jolly grips the back of her elbow causing her to stop. 

“Come on,” he nods his head to the top dark corner row of seats which happen to be vacant. 

Butterflies dance in her stomach as they ascend the dimly lit staircase. It’s impossibly warm when she sits down and Jolly follows suit, their knees brushing together when he hands her, her drink. Sam takes a few sips hoping the soda will quench her thirst and give her some relief; unfortunately, it does not. 

As the opening credits start, Jolly’s heart pounds in his chest as the opening credits start. He’s been waiting anxiously for this movie for as long as Nicholas has been ranting and raving about it. The one show all of them seemed to like and a tour favorite, so when Noah mentioned the movie, he could only hope that Sam would want to come too. In the corner of his eye, he sees her start to fidget with the popcorn bag nervously. Absentmindedly, he places his hand on her thigh as the scene starts.

Sam busies her hands by eating some popcorn, almost too aware of how she chews, she grips the bag a little tighter when suddenly Jolly’s hand rests on her thigh. Her body tenses to the touch. She wants to say something, to ask him to move his hand, but instead, she goes against every fiber of her being when she sets down the popcorn and places her hand on his.

“Oh, sorry,” Jolly jumps slightly when their hands touch, pulling his hand away. When Sam looks up at him, concern furrows his brows and creases the corners of his eyes. His eyes look nothing like her late husband’s and at this moment Sam has come to terms with it. She finally gives in to what her heart has been telling her all along. The pads of her fingers graze his cheek and for a few heartbeats, they exist in the space between them where nothing else matters. Her gaze drifts to his plump lips and back to his eyes. 

She nods, silently saying Yes! Please! I want to kiss you! Before pulling him in closer, their lips just barely touching. Sam squeezes her eyes shut and presses her lips onto his. When Jolly kisses her back, it’s soft yet cautious. She tilts her head, clasping his head between her hands to pull him in. A giggle erupts from her throat when his stubble brushes against her cheek, making Jolly pull away slightly. He puts a finger to her lips just as a nearby shh echoes from a few seats away. 

Jolly leans in, “I have a way to keep you quiet,” he whispers in her ear, his hot breath and suggestive tone send a shiver spider crawling down her spine. His lips ghost her cheek before replacing the finger to her lip. She invites the heat of the kiss, her hands gripping the collar of his shirt as his tongue parts her lips. When the pair are both breathless, he places a chaste kiss on her cheek. He kisses the tops of her knuckles before they find their resting place on his thigh. The world melts away in their soft embrace, hands entwined and hearts beating as one. 

Sam blinks a few times as her eyes adjust to the theater lights flickering on. Sure she has no idea what happened in the movie, but she couldn’t care less as long as she was next to Jolly. She doesn’t know what will happen next between them and right now she’s okay with that. Jolly gathers their trash and she follows closely until she can slide her hand back into his. When they reach the other guys outside, she spots them climbing into their Uber. Her stomach drops when the reality hits her that Jolly will be leaving too. She can’t help when a lump forms in her throat and her eyes prick with tears. 

“It’s time-” Jolly stops dead in his tracks when he spots the tears cascading down her cheeks. Before his feet step off the curb he turns and pulls her in tight, arms wrapping around her waist. 

“I got you,” he says low and calm as she starts to shake. “I don’t want this night to end either, Samantha. These last few days have been some of the best days on tour and I can’t thank you enough. This is not goodbye, ok?” 

He pulls back to wipe away her tears, caressing her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “Smile, pretty girl,” he smiles when she giggles and pink washes over her cheeks. “We play only a few hours away tomorrow and I snagged you VIP if you want to come. I know it’s a school night but I still wanted to offer.”  

Sam doesn’t hesitate when she wraps her arms around his neck in excitement. She knows she will be dead tired come Monday morning-thankfully just an in-service day before the end of the school year- so she can show up a little late. 

���Yes, yes I’ll be there!” 

“I can’t wait!” Jolly leans down for one more kiss. “Good night, Sam.” 

“Good night, Jolly,” she says before kissing him back. She watches as the full moon illuminates his path to the others. She smiles to herself, smitten- a feeling she hasn’t felt in so long. 

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[whomturgled]

times my cat nym is not in my lap, making direct contact with, or beside me:

- when she is sitting in one of her window spots, looking out the window. sometimes chirping

- when i am not home. she will, however, spend a not insignificant amount of that time hanging out in my room. usually stealing my spot in bed. or putting her toys in my bed.

- when she is using the kitty litter

- when i am showering. she waits right outside the bathroom door and has a lot to say the second i open it

- when she's eating. although i'm usually also eating and not very far from her

- play time/when she gets a case of the zoomies

- when she walks around the house Screaming, telling her stories, at times Wailing if no one pays attention to her immediately. can happen at any time on cooldown.

- when i am taking too long standing and doing stuff in the kitchen, or she gets bored of me sitting at the counter, so she goes to lay by the front door and Waits for me like a teacher crossing their arms at the front of the classroom

- if someone else is using the washroom. she needs to go say hi or yell outside the door

- sometimes she goes to see my mom for a bit but she doesn't usually give nym her undivided attention (which is Not Good Enough for her)

times she is in my lap, making direct contact with, or beside me:

- pretty much any other time.

[radiosteve]

Casual

Summary: When did being friends with benefits with Steve Harrington get so complicated? Probably when your "no strings attached" relationship suddenly had strings.

Note: Loosely based on the song Casual by Chappell Roan. I slowly wrote this over the past month or so which is why it took so long. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: 18+, No use of y/n, language, friends with benefits to lovers, smut, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), angst, jealousy.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x reader

Word count: 11.3k+

Knee deep in the passenger seat

The buzz of the evening air filled the car, prickling your skin with each passing second. Or maybe that was the A/C that Steve had on full blast, cooling the cramped car to an uncomfortable degree. Without a second thought, you reached forward, fingers finding the dial that would alleviate the shivers raking your body. But Steve’s hand shot out, swatting away your futile attempts to not freeze to death in the passenger seat.

“What the hell, Steve?” you shot him a glare, crossing your arms over your chest and unknowingly pushing up your breasts in the process, drawing Steve’s not-so-subtle gaze. In all honesty, Steve was cold too. Sure, it was summer in Hawkins and the sweltering heat and humidity bogged down the heavy air, but his car was a cool 66°F. 

“I’m sweating over here, sweetheart,” Steve shrugged, placing his hand back on the steering wheel. He was lying of course, but he couldn’t tell you that he wanted the A/C on so he could continue to catch glimpses of your pebbled nipples poking against the thin fabric of your tank top. He especially couldn’t say that because Eddie and Robin were in the backseat, a fact he had entirely forgotten until their muffled conversation rose dramatically in volume.

“And then they found that old guy’s fucking bones,” Eddie practically shouted with excitement, and your brow furrowed. Robin echoed Eddie’s statement, sharing the same elation regarding their conversation topic, which only confused you more. You turned in your seat, curious to know what the hell you had missed between them during your battle with Steve and the air conditioner. But then the car jerked to the left entering Forest Hills trailer park, and you knew you’d never find out.

The car halted in front of Eddie’s trailer, causing your body to jerk forward at the sudden stop. You let out a groan in response and were met with Steve’s cruel cackle. Meanwhile, Eddie tumbled out of the backseat into his front lawn and Robin followed suit on the other side.

“Wait, Rob,” you called, quickly rolling your window down so she could actually hear you. “I thought we were dropping you off?”

“Change of plans. I promised Max that we’d go through her comic collection so I’m just gonna crash at her place tonight,” Robin pointed over her shoulder and you spotted the mess of fiery red hair watching from the window. You nodded and exchanged a quick goodbye as Robin strolled over to Max’s front door. You watched her retreating figure, but it was soon blocked by Eddie ripping the passenger door open and hastily grabbing your cheek before placing a sloppy kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“Dude,” you wiped your lips with the back of your hand, trying to rid yourself of any trace of Eddie’s saliva. Eddie’s eyes flickered over your shoulder to land on Steve. He watched the fire ignite in Steve’s eyes, the flames encasing his pupils at the stretch of Eddie’s smirk.

“C’mon, princess. You know you want me,” Eddie winked at you and you pushed him away from the car with a laugh. He stumbled back a few steps, regaining his balance as you pulled the car door shut. 

“In your dreams, Munson,” you shot him a smile as Steve began driving off, leaving Eddie to watch as the car pulled away. He stood content, knowing he’d accomplished his mission to rile Steve up. You rolled up the window and turned to Steve, expecting his expression to reflect the amusement you felt as a result of Eddie’s antics. 

But Steve, ever so unpredictable, had never been one to conform to your expectations before. His face appeared hardened, like it was set in stone as his white knuckles gripped the steering wheel tightly. He kept his gaze on the road as if he was incapable of looking elsewhere, particularly at you.

The silence grew heavy within the car, only elevating the tension that blossomed seemingly out of nowhere. Steve was driving too fast and you wanted to tell him to slow down but he spoke before you could.

“You like it when Munson kisses you?” his tone was harsh and cold like you were his worst enemy rather than his friend of many years. But you’d known Steve long enough to understand where this was coming from. He was jealous, though he’d never ever admit it, not to himself and most certainly not to you. Despite his insistence to keep things casual between you and him, he was quite good at blurring the line.

“Steve, I’d hardly call that a kiss,” you scoffed, already knowing that this was an argument in the making. Steve was silent, knots forming in his tensed shoulders as he continued driving. “And what does it matter? You made out with Stacy Townsend last week. It's not like we're dating, Steve,” you huffed and the car quickly turned off the main road into a shaded grove, away from any prying eyes. 

Steve practically threw the car in park and unbuckled his seatbelt so quickly you could’ve gotten whiplash. He exited the car, rounding the back and appearing at your door before you could even turn in your seat to track his motion. Steve tore the door open, leaning down and reaching between your legs. Your breath stopped at the feeling of his arm brushing against your thighs, but you quickly realized he was simply adjusting the seat to push it all the way back.

“What are you-” you began but quickly stopped as Steve occupied the space in front of you. His knees rested on the carpeted floor of his car as his back brushed against the glove box. There was enough room for him to comfortably rest between your open legs as he swung the door shut, trapping you in the confines of his presence.

“Is he a good kisser?” Steve asked, the traces of jealousy still ever so present in his tone, but there was something else too. Something deeper and more lustful that almost helped to outweigh the annoyance you felt in the moments prior. You knew to play along, follow Steve’s prompts, and adapt to the scenario.

“He’s pretty good, Stevie. Might want to kiss him again,” you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding and you watched Steve’s gaze trace over you. He once again found the outline of your peaked nipples, teasing him in the car’s cool atmosphere. Steve couldn’t help himself, letting his fingers trail up your chest, tracing over your nipples once he finally reached them.

“Is he better than me?” Steve asked, relishing in the soft sign that escaped you at the brush of his fingers over your clothed skin. He knew your body like the back of his hand at this point, giving him some control over you.

“He might be,” you refused to give in, knowing Steve would give you what you want regardless. But Steve understood you in the same way that you did him, and he expected that you’d play hard to get, which only made it more fun for him. One of his hands dropped, reaching for the hem of your tank top and pulling it up above your breasts, leaving them on display for him. 

Steve resumed his teasing to your left nipple, gently circling it with his thumb. He leaned in slowly, keeping his eyes locked with yours as his lips met your breast, placing slow open-mouthed kisses on your soft flesh. After leaving a few marks he brought his mouth to your nipple, gently pecking it with his soft lips before placing a bruising kiss on it in a way that made you gasp in pleasure.

“Fuck,” you moaned as Steve’s teeth grazed your sensitive skin. His eyes never left yours, drinking in the sight of you slowly unraveling at the feel of his lips. Steve trailed his kisses lower, expanding over your torso and down to the waistband of your skirt.

His hands caressed your thighs, parting them even wider than before while he hiked your skirt up your hips. The lace of your panties now sat exposed to Steve as his hungry eyes roamed over the fabric.

“Maybe I shouldn’t,” Steve spoke with a smirk, his breath fanning over your lap, warming your cunt in a way that made you squirm. “Just leave that for Munson since he’s such a better kisser,” confidence and cockiness dripped from Steve’s voice like honey. He moved to pull your skirt back down, anticipating your pleas to continue. Luckily for him, you conceded.

“No, Steve. Please,” you begged, hand shooting out to stop him. And that was all he needed before he was pulling your panties from your legs and tossing them somewhere in the backseat. You were sure you’d never see them again. Steve placed a gentle kiss on your clit before licking your entrance to make you squirm. As if it were pure instinct, your hand shot out, gripping the soft locks of Steve’s hair.

That motivated him to really dive in, being more purposeful in the swipe of his tongue through your folds. Steve relished in the sound of your moans, the way your hips slid against the seat to meet his mouth, and how you threw your head back when his nose nudged your clit. Quite frankly, Steve had never been a big fan of eating girls out until he started hooking up with you. There was something about the way you reacted to the flick of his tongue that ended in him cumming in his pants on more than one occasion.

“So close, Stevie,” the breathy tone of your voice encouraged Steve further as he abandoned your entrance. His lips attached firmly to your clit, letting his teeth graze your sensitive bud as he sucked on it. Your chest was heaving at that point, tits jiggling with each heaving breath, and the sight had Steve palming himself through his jean shorts. And suddenly it was all too much for you as Steve’s tongue flicked wildly over your clit. 

Your thighs shook around Steve’s head while your fingers dug deep into his scalp and you came undone. Steve lapped at your entrance, licking up every last bit of your slick before finally pulling back with a labored breath. He leaned up on his knees, admiring how fucked out you looked. It was his favorite way to see you. Steve placed a fervent kiss on your lips, encapsulating all of the passion that flowed through you both at that moment.

“So who’s the better kisser now?” Steve whispered against your lips as a smirk tugged the corners of his mouth. You scoffed, pushing him gently away from you and pulling your skirt back down. It was impossible to keep the smile from your lips though, especially when Steve got up from the footwell of the car and you saw the wet spot on the crotch of his shorts. 

He got back in the driver’s seat and brought the car back to life. This time you welcomed the harsh blast of the A/C given the sticky heat between your legs and the warm air that now filled the fogged-up car. Steve drove you home, stopping in front of your driveway to let you out. He placed a quick peck on your lips before letting you out, leaving you to walk back to your front door. You stopped just before the entrance, turning to get one last look at the maroon BMW before disappearing into your house. The taste of yourself and Steve’s arrogance still lingered on the tip of your tongue as you watched him drive off into the dark summer night.

You said “Baby, no attachment”

“Jesus, this place is packed,” Eddie spoke beside you, his grip tight on his black lunch box. He’d dragged you to some house party so he could have company while he dealt. But you’d tagged along with Eddie to one too many parties to know that he’d soon disappear behind a wall of letterman jackets that he’d overcharged for weed simply because he could. You only agreed to go because of the promise of free booze.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” you shouted over the blaring music that ricocheted off the walls in the crowded living room. Eddie nodded, already being pulled away by someone looking to buy from him. You struggled your way through the sea of people to the closed-off kitchen, settling on whatever liquor you deemed the strongest. It was then that you saw him. Steve’s perfectly styled hair framed his face as he leaned down to whisper something into the ear of some very tipsy blonde across the room. 

“Figures,” you scoffed under your breath, tilting your cup to your lips and ingesting its bitter contents. Steve hadn’t told you he was coming to the party, likely because he was determined to find a one-night stand or come crawling to you if he struck out. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

You refilled your now empty cup before departing the kitchen and shimming your way onto the makeshift dance floor in the living room. A slight buzz already consumed you, diminishing any worried thoughts, particularly about a certain brown-haired boy.

Someone in a letterman jacket approached you, matching your movements with a shy smile. His name was Marcus, one of the nicer basketball players from your graduating class. Letting the alcohol control you, you threw your arms over his shoulders, careful not to spill your drink. You pulled him close, pressing yourself flush against him and moving to the beat of the music. Marcus was cute, flushed red as his hands snaked around to land on your hips.

As you got lost in the ocean blue of Marcus’s eyes, you remained oblivious to the sudden drawl of Steve’s attention as he stumbled into the room. Steve’s stare lingered over your figure, the press of your breasts against Marcus’s chest, the trail of his fingers as they inched towards the hem of your skirt. Steve couldn't tear his eyes away from you, brushing off whatever girl he’d been trying to bed and stalking in your direction.

Marcus’s lips hovered over yours, tempting you with each passing breath. Finally, sick of the teasing, you used your free hand to pull his neck down, effectively closing the gap. He tasted like bubblegum and Coca-Cola, and it became clear to you then that he hadn’t been drinking. You weren’t some drunken conquest to him, just a girl he wanted to dance with.

You pulled back at the revelation, feeling a little guilty for assuming all the boy in front of you wanted was a drunken hookup. But you didn’t have much time to think about it because Steve came barreling over from across the room.

“Marcus,” he spoke simply, eyeing the boy up and down. They had been teammates at one point, but now in Steve’s mind, they were mortal enemies. He wasn’t sure why he felt so jealous considering he’s the one who insisted on being friends with benefits and nothing more. But there was no time to dwell on that.

“Hi, Steve. How have you been?” Marcus asked genuinely, seemingly unaware of the growing tension between the three of you. You stood like a deer in headlights, watching and waiting for the tornado to touch down, the hurricane to make landfall, Steve to do something stupid.

“I’m doing great. Mind if I borrow her?” Steve brushed off Marcus’s attempts at friendly conversation, gesturing to you and grabbing ahold of your arm to drag you away before Marcus could even answer. It wasn’t exactly the stupid gesture you thought it would be, more like fists thrown and punches landed, but it still annoyed you just as much.

“What the hell are you doing?” you finally wiggled out of Steve’s grasp as he took you out the front door. You set down the cup that had previously occupied your hand before whipping around angrily to meet Steve’s gaze.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Steve crossed his arms over his chest, staring you down as if he were a parent scolding his disobedient child. 

“It’s a party, Steve. I’m partying,” you rolled your eyes, your voice deadpan as the heat of your rage mixed with the hot summer air. Steve scoffed, moving across the front porch to stand in front of you.

“You know what I mean, sweetheart. What were you doing with Marcus?” Steve’s breath fanned your face, doing nothing to help cool you in your overheated state.

“Whatever I want. You and I aren’t dating, remember?” you gestured between the two of you. Suddenly you felt like you’d been backed into a corner. Steve’s body inched closer to yours, encompassing you against the house’s siding, trapping you with nowhere to go. Partygoers came and went as they pleased, not sparing a passing glance your way as Steve cornered you. For a moment you let yourself get pulled into his allure, succumbing to his overwhelmingly dominant charm.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To have me all to yourself? Then you wouldn’t have to hook up with other guys to try and make me jealous,” Steve’s lips ghosted over yours in the way that always left you whining for more. But something stopped you.

“Wait,” you put your hands on his chest, pushing him back to give you space. “You think I kissed Marcus to make you jealous?” you asked a very confused Steve as you deliberately ignored the fact that he had admitted to being jealous. Steve’s brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what he said wrong.

“Yeah, why else would you have kissed him?” Steve countered, pulling back from you naturally, allowing more space to blossom between you.

“You’re unbelievable,” you stated, anger boiling up beneath the surface and scorching your skin. “Not everything is about you, dickhead,” you pushed past him, heading back towards the front door, desperately in need of another drink after this. But Steve’s hand shot out, grabbing your arm for a second time that evening. His grip was softer this time, free of the possessive fury that drove him earlier.

“That was shitty. I’m sorry,” he rushed out, dropping the overconfident demeanor. In the complicated web of your relationship, it was often difficult to remember what you truly were: friends. And now, before you, stood a friend who genuinely felt bad for making everything about him. 

“That was really shitty,” you spoke fiercely, still unmoved with Steve’s grip on your arm. “Apology accepted,” you caved, and Steve dropped his hand, ignoring the sudden cold that filled his palm in the absence of his skin on yours.

“Can we just forget about this and go back inside?” Steve asked and you responded with a nod, already halfway to the door. The party was even more crowded than before, making it far more difficult to find Marcus. “Shit,” Steve muttered beside you, pulling your gaze in the same direction as his.

Across the living room on the makeshift dance floor was the blonde girl Steve had been chatting up earlier. A wicked grin spread across your lips as you watched her sloppily suck face with some dude who was sure to be holding back her hair later while she spilled her guts into a toilet. You stifled a laugh, pulling Steve’s attention away from the blonde and back to you.

“See what happens when you meddle in my love life,” you patted him on the shoulder, his frown only making it harder to contain your laughter.

“Yeah, well I don’t see Marcus anywhere. Maybe he’s got some girl holed up in a room somewhere,” he pointed over his shoulder to the hallway of locked bedroom doors. He wanted to make you feel how he felt at that moment like he was the last kid picked for the kickball team. Undesired. Not that it could possibly be true though, because there was always one person who would always want you, even though he’d never admit it.

“Whatever, I’m getting another drink,” you brushed him off, already making your way through the packed room to burst through the kitchen door. You entered the kitchen, unexpectedly bumping into a solid chest clad in orange, white, and green. Marcus.

“Hey, where’d you and Harrington run off to earlier?” he asked, fingers brushing your arms as he steadied you.

“Sorry about that. Steve was having some girl trouble and needed advice,” you lied, though somehow not entirely. Marcus gave you a soft smile with a nod of understanding. “Do you maybe want to get out of here?” you asked, hoping you didn’t scare off the shy, sweet boy before you. 

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” he smiled and you couldn’t help but beam back up at him. You led him back through the throngs of people, passed Eddie who gave you a thumbs up at the sight of Marcus’s hand wrapped around yours, and out the front door.

On the porch steps sat a very deflated Steve, smoking what you were sure wasn’t a cigarette. You told Marcus you’d meet him by his car before sitting down next to Steve.

“Rough night?” you asked as if it was your first time seeing him that evening. He played along with your game though, something he always did.

“You could say that. Think a girl is gonna go home with you and then she’s mackin’ on some other dude,” he blew smoke from his lips, the skunky scent filling the air around you. “Still got you though. What do you say? I can take you back to mine and rock your world, sweetheart,” he wagged his eyebrows at you, his goofy nature peeking through.

It always surprised you how drastically different he could be with you. One minute he’d have you pinned against a wall with his tongue down your throat and the next he’d crack a joke and flub the punchline. The duality of man it seems, or maybe just Steve.

“Sorry, Stevie. I’ve already got a ride,” you pointed towards Marcus who stood leaning up against his car, awaiting your arrival back to his open arms. “See you tomorrow?” you stood, patting him on the knee, and began your trek across the lawn. Steve mumbled out a response, watching as you approached Marcus. 

Upon your arrival, Marcus took you in his arms, placed a soft kiss on your lips, and opened the passenger door for you. Steve watched as you waved to him through the car window, taking another drag from the joint between his fingertips. He wasn’t sure when he started feeling so empty, so complicated when he thought he was devoid of love. But he knew as the taillights disappeared into the dark summer night, that something sparked within him. The lack of strings involved in no strings attached had suddenly appeared and become tangled together.

Dream of us in a year

The cardboard box weighed heavy in your hands as you exited the elevator. Sneakers squeaked against the linoleum floors as you traveled down the hall, stopping in front of a door labeled 217. Your hands fumbled with the handle, struggling to keep the box from falling as you tried to open the door. 

It swung open, revealing a floppy-haired Steve with his sleeves rolled up behind it. He was a year older now, stubble shadowing his upper lip while shallow wrinkles had already started to line his forehead. He grabbed the box from your hands and moved inside, setting it down in the apartment’s living room. You took a moment to look around, taking in the freshly painted walls and soft carpeted floors.

“Can you believe we’ve got this whole place to ourselves?” Steve came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, breathing in the scent of your perfume. Lavender and vanilla.

“You say that as if Eddie, Robin, and the kids won’t constantly be in and out of here,” you spoke, spinning around to face Steve. Steve shrugged, a smirk cresting his lips.

“Not if we don’t give them a key,” Steve asserted, evoking a laugh from you, throwing your head back as the sound spilled from your lips. As if they’d let you and Steve have your own apartment without giving them easy access to it too. Steve took advantage of your thrown-back head and placed his lips on your neck, leaving a trail of kisses up the column of your throat.

“Steve,” you groaned, stuck between wanting him to continue and needing to keep moving your belongings into your new apartment. But Steve continued his attack on your neck, licking over the fresh bruises he painted across your skin.

“C’mon, baby. We’ll have to christen this place at some point. Why not now?” Steve spoke against your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. He pushed you back, your body softly colliding with the end of the kitchen counter.

“We’ve still got boxes to bring up,” you answered in heavy, panting breaths. Steve’s hand came up to cup your cheek, his lips traveling to yours in a bruising heat. He was weakening your resolve by the second.

“You really want to stop, then we’ll stop,” Steve stated, pulling back from your lips. He was calling your bluff, you knew that. But your lips missed his and you suddenly felt so cold without his body pressed to yours. So you caved.

“Fuck it, we’ll get ‘em later,” you pulled Steve back in, crashing your lips back together. Steve’s hand drifted from its place on your cheek, moving down your body. He stopped at your breast, giving it a squeeze, before moving down to your shorts.

In one fell swoop, Steve pulled your shorts and panties down your legs and replaced the cloth of your underwear with his fingertips. He brushed against your wet folds, coating his fingers in your juices. A whimper slipped from within you, Steve’s teasing only arousing you more.

He finally slipped a finger in and curled it. Your knees buckled, hands gripping the cool granite countertop to hold you steady.

“Shit, Steve. Feels so good,” he continued his motion, adding another finger. You could feel the tension building within you like a rubber band threatening to snap. You just got to the edge when…

You startled awake, abruptly sitting up and slamming the side of your head into something.

“Ah fuck, that hurt,” you said, rubbing the aching spot and leaning back into the couch.

“You’re telling me,” Steve said from beside you, also touching his head in pain. You’d fallen asleep on his shoulder and slammed your head into his when you snapped awake.

“Sorry, had a weird dream,” you apologized before directing your attention back to the movie you’d been watching before you fell asleep.

“Yeah? What was it about,” Steve prodded, trying to pull your focus back to him. He was clearly just as bored with whatever movie was playing as you had been.

“I, uh, don’t really remember,” you lied poorly, keeping your eyes off of Steve. It felt weird to face him after your dream. It made you feel guilty like your subconscious wanted your relationship with Steve to be more than what it was.

“Liar,” Steve concluded after studying your avoidant gaze. He inched closer, his body turned towards you in his spot on the couch. “You had a sex dream,” he accused and your head snapped in his direction. Your wide-eyed gaze only confirmed what Steve had already guessed. “Holy shit,” he exclaimed with a smile on his face.

“Nope. No. I didn’t have a sex dream,” you denied but Steve was already ignoring you, lost in a slew of his own thoughts.

“You had a sex dream while sleeping on my shoulder. Should I be flattered or offended? Well, I’d be flattered if it was about me. Was it about me?” Steve rambled, ignoring your protests. Once again, your avoidant eyes told Steve everything he needed to know.

“So what? We’ve had actual sex. What’s it matter if I dreamed about it?” you spoke defensively once you realized there was no point in hiding the truth. In the heat of the moment, you hadn’t realized that your body now faced Steve.

“Nothing wrong with it, babe. Just wish you’d told me sooner. We could already be working on making your dream a reality,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you, earning a chuckle in response. Steve leaned in, his body hovering over yours, lips just a breath away from touching.

“No thanks, Stevie,” you pushed him back playfully, knowing he’d be back on you in a second. Just as you expected he moved back in, closing any distance between you.

“Don’t dream it, be it,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“Don't you dare quote Rocky Horror at me right now,” you scolded Steve with a smile, one that he reflected back at you.

“Let me kiss you then,” he spoke softly, tenderly, like it was his biggest desire. You melted, feeling some form of intimacy that rarely reared its head during your hookups with Steve. The walls between you fell down, allowing Steve’s lips to meet yours. 

It was soft, gentler than he’d ever kissed you before. As if a switch had been flipped within you both, the lust and desire that had been building for months finally reached its peak and spilled out from each of your lips.

Steve’s knee came up between your thighs, adding the friction you desperately needed after the combination of your dream and his kiss. You pulled apart for a second so you could take off your top and bra, your eyes refusing to leave Steve’s as you did. 

You laid flat on your back, extending an open invitation for Steve to swoop in. His gaze on you was hungry and lustful, but it was also something else, something different than it ever had been before. If you didn’t know any better you'd think the look in his eyes was love.

Steve followed suit, removing his own shirt and shimming out of his pants and boxers. He pulled your shorts and panties from your legs, staring open-mouthed at your exposed core. Your dream already had your folds coated in desire, begging to be lapped up by Steve’s skilled tongue. He wanted to taste you, to devour you in the way you both loved, but your hand stopped him.

“Stevie, need you now,” you whined breathily, Steve’s eyes catching yours once again. He nodded, moving up to hover over your body that lay flat against the couch. Your slick made it easy for him to slip in, earning whimpers from both of you as your walls sucked him in.

Steve watched your face for a moment, simply because he could, because he wanted to. He admired the scrunch of your brow, the slight gape of your lips, and the pleading look in your eye. It only enticed him more, finally encouraging him to move.

With a sharp breath, Steve pulled out a bit before pushing back in. It was slow and deep, a stark contrast to the usual fast and rough nature of your hookups with Steve. He was hitting places deep within you, pulling silent moans from your lips.

Your hands searched for something to hold, to guide you through the pleasure Steve’s thrusts were forging. One hand landed on his back, gripping tightly to his skin. The other fell flat against the couch, an open palm facing up by your shoulder. 

Steve, who had been so consumed with studying the way your face screwed up as he dragged his cock in and out of you, noticed the fall of your hand. He grabbed it quickly, interlocking his fingers with yours. Steve thrust harder then, though he maintained his steady pace. His eyes locked with yours once more, labored breaths dancing in the small space between his lips and yours. 

Steve ground down hard, your hips matching his rhythm as you both neared your highs. You suddenly felt shy. The press of Steve’s body to yours combined with the intensity of your locked eyes, making you glance elsewhere.

“Baby,” Steve’s breathy voice rang out, his free hand turning your face and bringing your gaze back to him. “Want you to look at me when you cum. Need to see it. Please, baby,” he begged, the rhythm of his thrusts faltering slightly, telling you that he was close.

You just nodded, leaning up a bit to kiss him. Steve savored the feel of your lips on his before you pulled back, meeting his gaze as requested. The pressure in the pit of your stomach became too much. Your hand squeezed Steve’s tightly as your face contorted in pleasure and your walls fluttered around him.

Steve watched as you hit your high, continuing his thrusts as your thighs shook and your moans of his name echoed throughout the room. He couldn’t hold on any longer, reaching his own peak with a low groan of your name. His eyes never left yours as he pumped his hot ropes of cum into you and watched you unwind. 

After you’d both calmed down, breaths evening out, and chests no longer heaving, Steve gently pulled out. He kept his body on yours, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. Then he got up, retrieving a damp washcloth to clean you both up. 

The both of you redressed and resumed your previous spots on the couch, pretending to pay attention to the movie again. You tried to ignore the shift in the air, the warmth that filled your chest at the thought of what just happened. 

Steve did the same, his wandering eyes glazed over as he got lost in thought about the whole ordeal. Something occurred to him then, something too important to ignore. His past few hookups hadn’t made him feel anywhere close to how good he just felt with you, how good he always felt with you.

The other girls were always too loud or too demanding or too submissive, but were they really? Steve would get hung up on some flaw while with them, no matter how big or small, and effectively throw off the whole thing for himself. 

But as he sat there with the smell of sex still lingering in the air and some shitty movie playing on the screen in front of him, Steve realized that the other girls’ biggest flaw was always just that they weren’t you. And maybe Steve didn’t want no strings attached anymore. Maybe he just wanted you. And he had no clue how to tell you.

I’m still hanging around

Family Video hadn’t seen a customer for the past hour and forty-five minutes. The front counter had been wiped clean at least six times and all the tapes were put back into the system and reshelved, leaving Robin and Steve with absolutely nothing to do.

They’d resorted to taking turns trying to catch candy in their mouths when the bell sounded from above the front door. You strolled in with a furrowed brow as you watched Robin pick a stray skittle from her hair.

“Congrats on the big promotion, Steven,” you called out, approaching the counter with a wide smile. Steve’s new name tag with the words “Shift Lead” printed beneath his name shined in the store's harsh overhead lighting. Before Steve could thank you or comment on the use of his full name, Robin spoke up, effectively interrupting him.

“Thank god, someone to talk to other than this bozo,” Robin gestured to Steve who shot her a frown. “So tell me, how’d your date go last night?” she asked, leaning forward on her elbows and abandoning the half-empty pack of Skittles that sat on the counter.

Steve rolled his eyes at the mention of you going on another date with another guy, likely with some douchebag who didn’t deserve you. He took that as his cue to leave, wandering around the store to make himself look busy and avoid overhearing any talk of how soft this new guy’s lips were. Steve could still feel the pang of jealousy that lived in the pit of his stomach ever since you said that about some guy you went out with last week.

Despite his recent revelation, Steve had made no move to make his feelings known to you. He was caught in limbo between being seconds from spilling his guts to you at any given moment and refraining out of the fear of ruining your friendship. The more he heard of you going out with other guys, the more he doubted whether his feelings would be reciprocated.

“That bad?” Robin practically shouted in response to what you told her about your date, dragging Steve from his thoughts and drawing him into your conversation. He lingered near the movie shelves, just close enough to hear as you recounted the way your date more or less slobbered into your mouth when you made out.

“I had to chug half a bottle of mouthwash to feel like I wasn’t drowning in his saliva anymore,” you sighed, resting your chin in your hand as you leaned against the counter.

“That sucks, man,” Robin said, patting your shoulder comfortingly. The bell above the door rang out and Robin peered over your shoulder to catch a look at the customer. Robin glanced at Steve, hoping he’d help whoever just walked in, but he simply pointed over his shoulder, indicating for her to get to work. “Shit, duty calls,” she spoke quickly, rushing from behind the counter to greet the new customer.

“So,” Steve appeared seemingly out of nowhere, sliding behind the counter to stand where Robin previously was. “I told my parents about my promotion and they want to take me out to a nice dinner,” Steve’s gaze was drawn to the glass counter in front of him, suddenly unable to look at you.

“That sounds nice. I’m glad they’re finally recognizing your achievements,” you beamed at him, eyes scanning over his messy hair. He’d clearly been running his hands through it, nervously tugging the perfectly styled strands out of place.

“Yeah,” he started, letting out a huff of breath as he spoke. “They want you to come too,” he finally met your confused gaze. Your brows lifted and your mouth fell agape as you processed Steve’s words.

“Me? What? Why?” was all you could get out, words stuttered as your head filled with questions.

“Well, remember that time they came home early and nearly caught us in the kitchen so we played it off like we were about to make breakfast?” Steve asked, watching as your cheeks heat in embarrassment from the memory.

“The French toast incident. Yeah, I remember,” you nodded, curious about its connection to Steve’s upcoming celebratory dinner.

“Ever since then, they’ve been convinced that we’re dating. No matter how many times I’ve told them we’re not, they still think we’re together. They call you my girlfriend and everything,” Steve informed you, and it was like a light bulb went off in your head.

“The very few interactions I’ve had with them make a lot more sense now,” you stated, recalling all the times Steve’s parents asked you very girlfriend-esque questions. “Anyways, I’ll be there. Anything to support my little Stevie,” you pinched his cheek and Steve couldn’t help but laugh. 

Robin rounded the front counter, barreling Steve aside to ring up the customer she’d been dealing with. You took that as your indication to leave. You spun on your heels, heading back to the front door when Steve called out behind you.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven,” Steve spoke and you just kept walking, finally stopping as you reached the door.

“See you then, Stevie,” you smiled at him, pushing open the door and walking out into the summer sun. 

Steve wasn’t sure why his palms were so sweaty all of a sudden. Maybe he could blame it on the rundown air conditioner that Keith refused to replace. But he knew deep down that it was you. It was always you. His chest filled with butterflies at the thought of taking you out on a real date, despite the annoying addition of his parents. He’d treat you better than any of the other guys had before. He’d make you want to be his in the same way that he wanted to be yours, that he was sure of.

I know what you tell your friends

Steve picked you up right when he said he would, watching as you descended your driveway in a sundress. He couldn’t help the silent gasp that fell from his lips, so taken aback by your beauty. The passenger door swung open and you slid into the seat, meeting Steve’s admiring gaze with a smile.

“Ready, boyfriend?” you teased, leaning into the role that Steve’s parents expected you to play. Steve could’ve sworn that his heart stopped as the word fell from your lips. He hadn’t known until then how much he wanted to hear you call him that.

“You bet, girlfriend,” he snapped himself out of his stupor and finally responded, driving off in the direction of the restaurant.

Butterflies bloomed in your stomach, their delicate wings swarming deep within you. Things had been different with Steve recently but you weren’t sure why. His longing stares and flushed cheeks raised feelings from deep within that you were unable to identify, pushing them aside for the sake of your friendship.

The restaurant came into view and you noticed the nervous tap of Steve’s fingers on the steering wheel. When the car came to a stop you took hold of his hand, wrapping his palm with yours and easing the worries that plagued him.

“I’ll be with you the whole time,” you spoke softly, comfortingly. Steve’s eyes softened, his head nodding as his nerves melted away at the tingle of his hand enveloped in yours.

The restaurant was packed when you entered, your hand still interlocked with Steve’s. It didn’t take long to find Steve’s parents though, all you had to do was follow the sound of a woman complaining that her ice water had too much ice.

“Hi Mom, Dad,” Steve greeted his parents, pulling their attention to the two of you standing on the opposite side of the table. Steve’s parents were not the touchy kind, opting for a simple nod of their head in greeting rather than a handshake or hug.

“It’s nice to see you again, dear,” Mrs. Harrington addressed you, a plastic smile upturning the corners of her lips. The conversation continued, Steve’s parents pestering you both with questions.

“Steve tells me that you’re in school?” Mr. Harrington questioned, his gaze peering at you through the thick lenses of his glasses. You were taken aback by his question, not expecting him to know much about you. Steve had talked about you to his parents? He’d told them about you and your personal life?

“Yes, I am. I’m enrolled at the community college for now but I plan to transfer to a state school once I get my associate's degree,” you did your best to remain calm under the intense gaze of Steve’s parents, though the foundations of your cool facade were beginning to crack. Steve noticed the panic that creased your brow, taking it upon himself to clutch your hand in his under the table. Relief flooded you instantly, calmed by the warm caress of Steve’s skin on yours.

“That’s a good plan,” Mr. Harrington spoke again, turning his gaze from you to his son. “Seems much better than working at a video store with no thought of the future,” his face remained straight as he insulted Steve as if it were second nature by now.

Steve’s admiring smile, the one that stretched his lips at his father’s approval of your current path, faltered at the harsh words directed his way. Your hand squeezed Steve’s, reminding him that you were still there, that the insensitive words of the man before him didn’t matter. 

“Dad,” Steve started but was quickly silenced by the raise of his father’s hand. It was like watching a dog following its owner’s command to sit. Steve was well trained by now, knowing when to be quiet, but you weren’t.

“With all due respect Mr. Harrington, Steve has worked his ass off at Family Video,” you defended, ignoring the gasp that came from Mrs. Harrington at your use of profanity. “Steve earned his promotion through hard work and dedication, two principles that I thought a businessman like yourself would greatly value,” you continued, your hand still clasped against Steve’s as your rage boiled over.

“Well, yes but-” Mr. Harrington began but you interrupted him before he could continue.

“Maybe it’s not the most glamorous job in the world, but Steve is learning valuable skills that can easily translate to other jobs later on,” you stated while Steve’s parents sat dumbfounded across from you, not used to being talked back to. “It's a shame you can’t see how wonderful and compassionate your son is. You should be proud of the man he’s becoming. I know I am,” your eyes roamed the dropped jaws of Steve’s parents and held back a smile at their shocked expressions.

You turned to Steve then, his gaze securely fastened on you. A smirk danced on his lips as he admired the crease in your forehead and the angry pinch of your brows. He watched as your expression unraveled, softening as your eyes landed on him. 

Steve was speechless, stunned by your fierce loyalty on his behalf. He wanted to kiss you so badly, crush his lips to yours in a way that left a bruise by the time you pulled away for air. But he held himself back, not wanting to make you uncomfortable with such a public display of affection.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to freshen up in the restroom,” you gently pulled your hand from Steve’s, pushing your chair back and knocking some silverware off the table in the process. Steve watched as you walked away, encapsulated by the sway of your hips and the skin exposed by the movement of your dress with each step.

“I’ll go get some clean silverware,” Steve leaned down, picking up the utensils that littered the ground. He then quickly followed in your direction, leaving his still-shocked parents alone at the table. He approached the bathroom, a single-user restroom, and knocked on the door.

“Occupied,” you called out through the door, barely heard over the conversations and soft music that filled the restaurant.

“It’s me,” Steve said into the door, hoping not to attract too much attention from the tables nearby. The lock turned quickly, allowing Steve to push the door open and step into the small bathroom with you.

He clicked the lock back into place before turning to face you. His eyes read yours, receiving their open invitation, so he grasped your face, pulling it to meet his. Steve kissed you in the way he desired to only minutes before, with a rough clash of teeth and tongues that left you breathless.

“That was so fucking hot,” he spoke into your lips, one hand caressing your cheek as the other trailed down to your exposed legs, roaming the expanse of your bare thighs. 

“Steve,” you tried to break free from his kiss, but his lips followed yours. “Your parents are still at the table,” you reminded him, knowing that he intended to do far more than just kiss you.

“We’ll just have to be quick then,” his lips caressed yours again, his hand moving inwards, meeting the seam of your panties. You were conflicted, worry washing over you at the possibility of being caught. But Steve’s touch momentarily quelled the burning heat that bloomed between your legs.

His fingers slipped beneath your panties, tracing the outline of your folds, swiping at the dampness that began to form. He swiftly pulled your panties down, helping you step out of them before shoving them into his back pocket. Steve leaned you over the sink, unzipping his pants and slipping his hardened cock from the confines of the material.

You watched him through the mirror in front of you, his hands stroking his cock before lining it up with your entrance. He eased in, slipping in inch by inch before bottoming out. A moan slipped past his lips as he quickly pulled out and thrust back in, giving you little time to adjust. 

His thrusts were harsh and rough, knocking you forward with each motion. Your elbows that propped you up slid against the sink’s smooth countertop, bringing you closer and closer to the mirror with each movement. But Steve didn’t let up, forcefully pounding his cock into your core as he whimpered above you.

“Fuck, babe,” he groaned, his hands holding your hips in place. “It’s like your pussy was made for me. Squeezing me so good,” he didn’t let up, fucking you desperately, like he’d never get to do it again. 

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, suppressing your moans, not wanting to be heard by the rest of the restaurant. 

“So close, baby,” Steve leaned down, pressing kisses to your bare shoulders while maintaining his fierce pace. Your high was building along with Steve’s as he brushed a spot deep within you. 

“Oh fuck, I’m cumming,” Steve spoke suddenly, catching you off guard as he spilled into you. Steve’s thrusts faltered as he pumped his cum deep within your folds. “All mine. Want you to be all mine,” he whispered into your skin, slumping against your folded body. It took a moment before he stood up straight again, regaining his composure and tucking his cock back into his pants.

You stood up with him, wide eyes watching him from the mirror. He fixed his disheveled hair, not noticing the shocked expression that you wore. You hadn’t cum, hadn’t had enough time for your orgasm to fully build before Steve spilled his seed into you. You also couldn’t ignore the words he muttered against you. Words that spoke of a relationship, something more. The same words that Steve seemed to be completely oblivious to having said. 

“You okay?” Steve asked, finally noticing your worried look. You nodded, observing the boy who seemed to have unknowingly confessed his desires to you. “I’ll leave you to freshen up. I gotta go get more silverware,” he pulled the dirty silverware from his pocket that didn’t have your panties before opening the door and leaving you pantyless, alone in the bathroom with frazzled thoughts and his cum leaking down your thigh.

“What the fuck?” you mumbled to yourself, locking the door once more and cleaning yourself up. Did Steve want to be with you? Did he want to have you in the way you secretly hoped?

Your thoughts still raced as you exited the restroom, weaving through tables to get back to where you previously sat. But something caught your attention, or more like someone. Steve stood with a waiter, some guy you recognized from high school but couldn’t quite name off the top of your head.

“Are you two dating? Never thought I’d see the day when King Steve finally got tied down,” the unnamed waiter said, earning a grin from Steve. You were curious to know his answer, to hear what he said about you when you weren’t around. 

“Nah, man. She’s just some girl that lets me fuck her on my couch,” Steve chuckled, running a hand through his hair. The color drained from your face, breath exhaled shakily as tears welled in your eyes. His response was a far cry from what he’d whispered as he came inside you just moments ago.

Your feet carried you away, stumbling back to the table to avoid being seen by Steve. You plopped into your chair, meeting the skittish gazes of Steve’s parents. Their expressions reminded you of your words from before, how you defended Steve, how very wrong you may have been. 

Steve appeared a minute later clutching a new set of silverware and spewing an apology for how long it took. He placed the silverware in front of you, replacing your soiled set. His hand came to rest on your thigh and you couldn’t help the way you flinched at his touch. It was as if he was a completely different person to you now. 

Conversation resumed, Steve easing the tension at the table and re-engaging with his parents. You chimed in when needed, staying silent otherwise, consumed by thought. Steve’s parents had warmed up to you again by the end of the meal, despite how shutdown you had become.

“Steve should bring you to our house in Long Beach sometime. It’s gorgeous this time of year,” Mrs. Harrington suggested and you forced on a fake smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes, as you nodded. You and Steve thanked his parents for dinner before heading back to Steve’s car. 

The drive back to your house was quiet, your eyes peering through the window, gazing at the passing scenery, doing anything to keep from looking at the boy next to you. Steve came to a stop in front of your driveway and you immediately opened the door, stumbling out and starting the walk to your front door.

“What are you doing?” Steve called after you, exiting his car and following behind you. 

“Going into my house,” you said, not bothering to turn around or stop, continuing your trek to the door.

“No kiss? No goodbye?” Steve questioned, finally reaching you at your doorstep. You had been fumbling with your keys, struggling to unlock the door. Steve’s hand landed on your shoulder and you snapped, abandoning your keys in the lock and whipping around to face him.

“Why does it matter? I’m just some girl that lets you fuck her on your couch, right? So why do you care?” anger spilled out of you with each syllable, causing Steve to pull back, his foot falling down a step, letting you tower over him. “Yeah, I heard you, asshole,” your words spewed from your lips as Steve’s mouth opened, silently fumbling for words.

“I didn’t-” Steve began before you cut him off.

“You don’t have to worry about people thinking you’re tied down anymore, King Steve,” you turned back to your front door, finally managing to get it unlocked. You took a step inside while Steve still stood on the doorstep. “Maybe you can find some other girl to fuck around with instead,” you slammed the door shut, sinking against it and falling to the ground as the tears you held in finally leaked down your cheeks. You didn’t mean it, of course you didn’t mean it. But the hurt and anger tore you apart as you sobbed into your hands.

Steve stood still on your doorstep, his feet rooted to the spot, staring at the closed door. He loved you, he knew that for sure. As his glassy eyes traced the spot where you just stood, he felt his heart crack and shatter, its pieces filling the pit of his stomach with enough force to make bile rise in his throat. Steve knew he loved you, and unfortunately, he knew that he also just lost you.

Someone you couldn’t lose

“I really would rather just go back home. Why do you even need me for this?” you asked Eddie, his arm interlocked with yours, dragging you forward. He continued his steady pace, not letting up despite your dragging feet that weighed him down.

“Because you haven’t done anything but cry for the past few days. You need to leave your cave of solitude,” Eddie’s breath was a bit labored as he led you to the entrance of The Hideout. “Plus Gareth canceled on me and I didn’t want to go by myself,” Eddie added, eliciting an eye roll from you.

“Why couldn’t you take Robin or, I don’t know, literally anyone else?” you asked while Eddie guided you through the bar. The bar was practically empty, the crowd even smaller than when Corroded Coffin usually plays. God, the band playing tonight must suck.

“Because I enjoy your company, sweetheart,” Eddie hummed, plastering a sickeningly sweet smile on his lips. A smile that you met with a glare. “And Robin is busy with Steve tonight,” he revealed his true reason for inviting you.

In another universe, a less complicated one, you would be mad at Eddie for being his last-resort concert buddy. But in this universe, the one where you and Steve were interlinked in an ever-so-tangled web, your heart stopped at the mention of his name.

Steve’s crude words played through your head like a bad earworm, momentarily overtaking your thoughts as your face faltered. Eddie watched the quiver of your lip and crease in your brow. He ached at the thought of your sadness, wanting to alleviate any trace of it, which is why he brought you to The Hideout, but not for the reason that you might think.

“Let’s go get a drink,” Eddie put his hand on your back ushering you towards the nearly empty bar. For once today, he didn’t have to drag you, your feet willingly trailing along behind him at the thought of alcohol. Eddie plopped down on a stool ordering you both a drink while you slid in beside him. 

The drinks were quickly made and paid for, leaving the two of you to sip away in silence. Your gaze drifted around the bar, curiously eyeing its patrons. Something didn’t seem right as you scanned the stage set up on the side of the room.

“Eddie,” you took a sip of your drink, focus shifting back to the boy next to you. “If there’s a show tonight then why is it so empty in here?” the question left your lips and Eddie’s nervous stare landed on the wood surface of the bar below. 

The front door slammed open, saving Eddie from your question. Your head whipped around at the sound of the door in combination with the hushed voices that filled the room. Steve and Robin. They were arguing about something, but you couldn’t hear them. The sounds that encompassed the bar slipped away, leaving your ears ringing in the stark silence. 

Watery eyes gazed upon the boy across the bar that was too enveloped in his conversation to look up. Eddie cleared his throat beside you, but your eyes didn’t leave Steve, roaming over his wild hair and disheveled clothes. Eddie may not have been able to get your attention, but he did get Steve’s, drawing his awareness until his eyes landed on you.

Steve froze in place, his pink lips parting in surprise as he traced your features. His heart ached at the distance between you, both metaphorical and physical. You couldn’t help but feel the same as you got down from your stool, feet pulling you closer. 

Steve met you halfway, stopping in the middle of the room, uncaring of the questioning looks you both attracted in the process. Words were lost on the tip of your tongue, incapable of leaving your lips.

“I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Steve spoke breathlessly, a nervous hand running through his hair. “Robin dragged me here, but I can leave if you want,” Steve offered, but you quickly found yourself shaking your head.

“Can we talk?” you asked, your voice small like a child who’d just been scolded. Steve nodded quickly, taking no time to think over your suggestion. He didn’t need to, all he could think about for the past few days was how badly he wanted to talk to you. The ache in his chest only grew more painful with each passing day of silence. 

With his hand grasped in yours, you led Steve out the side door to an alleyway next to The Hideout. Your hand tingled at the warmth of Steve’s palm pressed gently against yours. Reluctantly, you dropped his hand, leaning against the building as Steve’s wandering gaze studied you nervously. He wasn’t sure whether you wanted to speak first or not, but he just couldn’t hold it in any longer, succumbing to his urge to expel an explanation.

“I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I said that about you,” Steve spewed out, his words desperate and pleading, frown lines etched deep into his skin.

“Is that really how you feel about me? That I’m just some girl?” you asked, voice quiet and broken, stifled by the tears welling in your eyes. You couldn’t meet his gaze, embarrassed to sound so small, so reliant on his opinion of you.

“No, absolutely not,” Steve shook his head immediately, stepping closer to you. “I just- I’ve been feeling a certain way about you lately, but I didn’t want to scare you. So I downplayed it, tried to make it seem like it was nothing to that guy from high school, but it is something,” Steve confessed, scanning your face for any hint of what you were thinking. He couldn’t find what he was looking for in your avoidant stare and his shoulders deflated.

A cool summer breeze whispered in the space between your bodies, bringing a chill to your skin as you thought over Steve’s words. You could feel the way his eyes searched you, pleading for a sign, but you didn’t budge, not when you didn’t have the answer you were looking for yet.

“And how exactly have you been feeling about me lately?” you finally look up, meeting Steve’s desperate stare. His lips parted, tongue darting out to wet them as he mulled over his next words. You were giving him a shot, a chance to lay it all out on the line. Steve just had to be smart enough, brave enough, to take it.

“Like I love you,” Steve asserted with shaky hands, carefully watching you for a reaction. The breath in your lungs fled, your eyes widening a bit and then softening in sweet admiration while the corner of your lips ticked upwards ever so slightly, which only encouraged Steve to continue. “Like I want to be with you all the time, not just late at night or when neither of us can get laid. I want you to be mine and for me to be yours,” his feet carried him closer to you, his spearmint and cigarette scented breath fanning warmly across your face. “Do you want that too?” he asked, his confidence dwindling by the second, making his voice as small as yours had been earlier.

His eyes darted back and forth tracing your soft skin, your lengthy eyelashes, and your plush lips. Steve was dying for your answer, just on the brink of falling to his knees and begging, but if there was even the slightest possibility that you were to reject him then he wanted to savor this moment beforehand. The calm before the storm.

He wanted to memorize the curve of your cheeks, every beauty mark or scar expanding across your skin, the way the moonlight illuminated your face in the dark of the night. Steve decided he could wait forever for you to speak your next syllable as long as he got to stay in this moment and simply be with you. But despite his desire to freeze time, your mouth opened, effectively sealing Steve’s potential fate with you.

“Yes,” your answer came out breathlessly like you had just finished running a marathon, and based on how fast your heart was pounding in your chest, you might as well have. Steve exhaled in a smile, his tongue wetting his lips once more. He wanted nothing more than to caress your supple skin and kiss you. So he did.

Steve wrapped you in his arms, pulling you flush against him, and searched your face for reassurance. When he found what he was looking for, Steve dived in, pressing his lips to yours. It was far from the first time you’d kissed, but something felt different this time. It was years of buried feelings finally clawing their way to the surface and announcing that they were here to stay. You pulled away with a smile and your forehead pressed to his.

“You know,” Steve spoke, words just above a whisper as he attempted to catch his breath. “Now that I think about it, there’s no way we coincidentally ended up in the same place at the same time,” he finished, arching a brow at you, hoping you’d understand what he was implying.

“Eddie and Robin definitely set this up,” you caught on to his train of thought.

“Definitely,” Steve agreed. He should be mad, he really should be. His friends had no right to meddle in his love life like this. But how could he be upset when he had you cradled in his arms and your chapstick smeared across his lips?

“I hate them,” you voiced, clearly unserious in your statement.

“I don’t,” Steve peered down at you, catching the reflection of the crescent moon in your eyes. “They brought me back to you,” he shrugged with a smile and you couldn't help but mirror him before closing the space between you with another kiss.

After a few more shared smiles and soft kisses, you and Steve decided to go back into the bar. It was just as empty as it had been before, further proving to you that Eddie lied in order to get you and Steve together. Steve’s hand was clasped around yours as you walked further in, spotting Eddie and Robin sitting across from one another in a booth.

“Follow my lead,” you whispered as the pair finally saw the two of you approaching. Wide smiles stretched their lips at the sight of you hand in hand. 

“So Eddie, when’s this band coming on?” you asked, coming to a stop at the end of the booth. Eddie’s eyes widened at your question, having expected you to forget about how he got you to The Hideout under false pretenses, especially given the fact that you’d made up with Steve.

“There, uh, isn’t one for tonight,” Eddie stuttered, looking like a deer in headlights at the arch of your brow.

“Oh,” you did your best to look taken aback like this wasn’t the answer you had expected. “So you lied?” you questioned, your tone expressing more confusion rather than anger, which only made Eddie more nervous. His mouth hung agape while Steve and Robin stifled their giggles and smirks.

“How about I get everyone a drink?” Eddie stood up quickly, looking for an escape. “Steve? Wanna help?” Eddie backed away from you and headed towards the bar. Steve released his hand from yours, shaking his head with a smile as he followed behind.

You slid into Eddie’s vacated seat, across from Robin. She still had a smirk etched into her face when your gazes met.

“Don't think you’re off the hook too,” you stated and her smirk fell almost comically. Your gaze drifted from her to the bar, landing on Steve. He was already facing you with a warm smile.

“I love you,” he mouthed to you, and you felt your breath catch again. It was something you’d have to get used to. After so long of denying your feelings and the insistence to stay casual, it would be a big change. But it was a change you were more than happy to accommodate.

“I love you too,” you mouthed back, and you really did mean it.

[lixiepixiedust]

"Real smooth, Seungmin"

pairing — bf!seungmin x f!reader; established relationship

word count — 1.8k

warnings — she/her reader, flirty seungmin, terrible jokes

summary — you and seungmin's main love language has always being sarcasm and jokes. a tired day from work can't even stop you two.

"Seungmin," a gentle voice called, coaxing him out of his slumber. "We've arrived."

Seungmin's eyes fluttered open, greeted by the comforting sight of his home through the windshield. Glancing around, he spotted his manager wearing a warm smile. With a slight pout, Seungmin leaned onto his manager's shoulder, who affectionately patted the puppy's head as though he were his beloved little brother.

"So tired," Seungmin mumbled, still half-asleep, his eyes remaining closed.

His manager chuckled, causing his body to shake against Seungmin's head.

"M' sorry you had to drive me home so late," Seungmin added.

"Don't worry about it; I'm a night person," the manager replied.

"I know you're just saying that," Seungmin laughed.

His manager rolled his eyes. "Go inside now and get some rest in a real bed," he urged, shooing Seungmin away.

Seungmin nodded, grabbing his backpack before exiting the car. Leaning down towards the window, he gave his manager a playful wave. The manager patiently waited until Seungmin safely entered the house before driving away.

As Seungmin stepped inside the house, he was greeted by the glow of lights that immediately made him squint. The stark contrast between the darkness outside and the awakening played tricks on his eyes.

"Seungmin?" your voice called from the kitchen.

You approached the front door with a glass of water in hand. As Seungmin's eyes finally adjusted to the brightness, you became clear to his view. His gaze swept over you, taking in the unexpected sight of your figure adorned in a short tight dark dress, unfamiliar jewelry, and styled hair.

"Y/n, I thought you'd be asleep," Seungmin remarked.

"No, I actually just got back home," you replied with an awkward smile.

"Where did you go?"

"I was kind of bored at home, so I went out to the club with friends."

"Ah, I see," he nodded, setting his things down.

Although you shared a living space, the hectic schedule of the comeback season had kept you apart for about two weeks. He returned home late and left early, your paths crossing only while you were asleep. Observing him now, it seemed like he had lost the sparkle in his eyes, his complexion was paler, and his voice carried an air of exhaustion.

"I'm going to take a quick shower," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"Make sure to sing while you're at it," you grinned, as if you were the world's funniest person.

He shot you a look that suggested otherwise.

"Cause you're Seungmin—" you started explaining your terrible joke.

"Yeah, I got that," he chuckled, walking past you and ruffling your hair.

Following him upstairs, you parted ways as he headed to the bathroom. In your bedroom, you changed out of your uncomfortable dress into pyjamas. You then entered the bathroom, where Seungmin was showering, and the humid air hit you. you were a suddenly met with Seungmin singing his heart out in random vowels that didn't sound like words. You stifled a laugh as you started removing your makeup, doing your skincare routine, and brushing your hair. You kept on having to wipe the mirror repeatedly due to the steam from Seungmin's shower.

When Seungmin finally turned off the water and emerged from the shower, he shrieked upon seeing you, prompting a giggle from you.

"You can't just pop in like this; you scared me," he complained while towel-drying his hair.

You looked down, smiling to yourself at his reaction. Your gaze lifted when he wrapped a towel around his bare hips. He came up beside you as you patted moisturizer into your skin.

"Gimme some," he whispered.

You squeezed a bit out of the container, and he turned to face you. Applying little dabs of it across his soft face, you began to rub it in gently with your fingers. Once it was absorbed, you used the excess cream on your hands to glide along his bare neck and shoulders.

Seungmin continued to stand there, eyes closed, as you gently massaged his muscles. As your fingers traced along his features, he let out a content sigh, and leaned his head against your shoulder.

You chuckled, "Feeling tired, are we?"

"I might be more exhausted than I thought," he admitted with a small smile.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a gentle hug. "Well, you're home now. You can relax."

He mumbled, "I missed this."

"What, my amazing skincare routine?" you teased.

"No, the shoulder to lean on," he replied, opening his eyes to meet yours.

"Real smooth, Seungmin." you smirked, patting his back. "But you're lucky I enjoy having you around."

Seungmin scoffed playfully, "Who wouldn't? I'm a delight."

"Sure, keep telling yourself that," you retorted, continuing to pat his back.

You two stayed like that for a while, the warmth of the hug and the soft hum of the bathroom fan creating a comforting atmosphere. You felt Seungmin's weight against you grow heavier, and a soft snore escaped his lips. You couldn't help but laugh quietly.

"Fallen asleep in a bathroom, huh?" you whispered, gently patting his back.

"No, I'm not," he mumbled, clearly half-asleep.

"You're too tired," you replied, your voice gentle. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

You managed to guide Seungmin to the bedroom, his arm draped over your shoulder. As you helped him settle into bed, you threw him a pair of boxers to sleep in.

While putting them on after removing his towel, he muttered, "You're like my mom, aren't you?"

"Someone has to take care of you," you teased.

"Guess I'm lucky it's you," he said with a sleepy smile.

You rolled your eyes, "Yeah, yeah. Get some rest, Seungmin."

"Goodnight, Y/n," he murmured, already drifting off.

"Goodnight, Seungmin," you whispered pressing a light kiss on his lips.

Just as you were about to leave the room, Seungmin's phone emitted a soft ding. You hesitated for a moment, debating whether to disturb his peace, but concern won over. You approached the bedside table, intending to turn off notifications, when you noticed a message from Chan on the screen.

Of course, Chan wasn't asleep yet. You didn't want to disturb Seungmin, but the possibility of it being something important nagged at you. Carefully, you leaned over and softly mentioned, "Chan texted you, by the way."

Seungmin, still half-asleep, hummed in acknowledgment, turning his body towards his phone. Satisfied that you did your part, you quietly left the room, closing the door behind you and making your way into your room.

As you sat on the bed, reaching over to turn off the lamp, the door suddenly burst open. Seungmin walked in, smiling widely, and you couldn't help but be both confused and amused at his unexpected burst of energy.

You couldn't help but laugh along with Seungmin, his infectious giggles breaking the silence of the room. "What's going on? Aren't you supposed to be asleep?"

Seungmin, still chuckling, tried to compose himself. "The 7 am show got cancelled."

"Is that a good thing?" you inquired.

"Silly you, of course it is! That means I'm free the whole day!" He exclaimed, collapsing on the bed with you.

"Poor them. What if something happened? It's a little mean that you're celebrating." you said, half teasing.

"Oh, shut up, Y/n!" he chuckled, rolling his eyes.

You couldn't resist pushing the playful banter a little further. "Oh Seungmin, what are you going to do with a whole day off anyways? Besides napping—"

Before you could fire back another teasing remark, Seungmin surprised you by leaning in and pressing his lips to yours, effectively silencing any further banter. Your eyes widened in surprise for a moment, and then you couldn't help but smile into the kiss.

Seungmin pulled away with a smirk, "I'll spend the day bickering like an old couple with you."

You chuckled, "Fair enough."

But Seungmin wasn't done. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he pushed you down against the bed, capturing your lips in another kiss. This time, he laughed into the kiss, and you couldn't help but join in, the light and joyous sound creating a playful and affectionate atmosphere.

As the laughter subsided, Seungmin propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at you with a teasing grin. "You know, you looked really hot in that dress tonight."

You gave him a sly smile. "Flattery won't get you out of chores tomorrow, you know."

Seungmin chuckled, undeterred. "I'd say it was worth a shot, though.” He leaned in, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "But seriously, you must've turned heads."

You feigned surprise. "How'd you know? Some guy actually did hit on me at the club."

Seungmin furrowed his eyebrows, a touch of possessiveness flickering in his eyes. "Really? What did he do?"

You laughed, "Oh, the usual stuff."

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, "Spill."

"How are you suddenly alert, Seungmin? Weren't falling asleep on me a few minutes ago."

"I got excited so I'm wide awake." He paused. "Now tell me what happened, darling".

Rolling your eyes, you gave in to his curiosity. "Let's just say he tried to dance on me. But I handled it. He was bad at dancing too."

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, “I’m glad you’re okay.” He said while gently rubbing your arm. “But bad dancing? Now that's a crime."

You laughed, "Well, at least he's a better dancer than you." You (obviously) joked.

He put his hand against his chest, taken aback. "Wow, I'm jealous of this guy, Y/n. He's stealing you away from me." He said, almost way too sarcastically.

You nudged him, "Oh, please. As if you're the jealous type."

Seungmin leaned in closer, his tone low and teasing. "Maybe you just haven't given me a reason to be jealous yet."

"Real smooth, Seungmin." You commented as he chuckled.

Seungmin's gaze softened, and he hesitated for a moment before asking, "Y/n, can I stay here tonight?"

You looked at him, your expression a mix of surprise and amusement. "Why tonight?"

A grin tugged at the corner of his lips. "Cause it's my day off tomorrow."

"Okay? That doesn't explain much," you remarked, raising an eyebrow. "Why not on your work nights?"

Seungmin, always quick with his words, leaned in a bit closer, a smooth smile playing on his lips. "Because I wouldn't be able to get out of bed every morning if you were next to me."

You blinked, caught off guard by his unexpectedly sweet words. "Well, someone's turning on the charm tonight."

Seungmin chuckled, "Say it, Y/n."

"Real smooth, Seungmin," you teased, unable to hide the smile on your face.

He playfully rolled his eyes, "I try my best."

[mewhenimanangel]

moon river, miles morales x reader

pairing: earth 42!miles morales x spider!reader

synopsis: after spending the night with your friends and a scare from a spider, you woke up the next morning to an unwelcome surprise

wc: 2.7k

warnings!: swearing, suggestive themes violence, sexual harrassment, google translate spanish

translations: princesa - princess, tu mamá en casa? - your mom home?

part 1 ♱, next ♱

you were walking down the street with your friends mila and serenity, bags in hand from the bodega down the block. "let's take a picture real quick" serenity said, taking out her phone. just then your eyes flicked down to see a spider crawling on your arm, to which you screamed out "get it off me get it off me! oh my god!" you were practically crying at this point. spiders were not something you played with, at all.

your friends flicked it off you, laughing at the way you were screaming. "don't play with me i know you seen how big that motherfucker was. like ew" you rolled your eyes. pretty soon you were at your building and you said bye to your friends, entering your apartment. "mommy i'm home!" you shouted out. "hey nas" you said hi to your little brother sitting on the couch watching gumball. "hey." he flatly replied. "where's mommy?" you asked taking a sip of the arizona you'd just bought.

"i don't know she went somewhere with her friends. told me to tell you." he answered. you mumbled an alright before heading to your room. you got your stuff together for a shower and when you came back and got dressed again, you heard your window unlock and lift open. you darted your attention to the window, ready to grab a weapon.

you calmed down once you saw a familiar head of two braids. "miles i almost beat your ass" you sighed putting the knife you kept in your dresser back. he scoffed "as if you could. i'm untouchable princesa" he closed the window behind him and made his way over to you.

he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into into a kiss. you smiled against his lips and held his face. "tu mamá en casa?" he asked, pulling away for a second. you shook your head no "good" he said pulling you back into the kiss. his hands traveled down to your ass, both hands on each cheek squeezing. thank god for your tiny boy shorts.

he tapped your thigh telling you to jump up. you followed instructions and wrapped your legs around his waist, not breaking the kiss. he moved over to your bed, gently dropping you down. he moved in between your thighs and kissed your neck, sucking on a spot he knew you liked earning a small mewl from you.

you pushed him away "okay wait my mom might not be home but nasir is" you told him. "oh alright" he said moving away not before pressing pecks all over your face and lips. he got up and went to your door going out into the living room, you following behind. "yo lil man!" miles said going over to where nas was sitting. he jumped down from the chair "miles!" he exclaimed running up to him. they did their secret handshake while you went to fill your bottle with water.

"nas did you shower and everything yet?" you asked your brother. "uh huh" he answered pulling away from miles' hug. "how come miles is here?" nas asked you. "just had to come see my girl. and my favorite lil bro" he smiled, walking back over to you. "we're gonna go in my room okay nas, are you good out here?" you asked the boy making sure the front door was locked and the lights were off. "yeah i'm okay"

getting back to your room, you turned your lights off and your fairy lights on. you got in your bed and pulled out your laptop, miles following after getting settled between your thighs. "what episode were we on again?" you asked him. you had forced him to start watching gossip girl with you a few weeks ago and even though he refused, he wound up getting more interested in it than you. you put on the show and he grabbed a hello kitty wrapping it in his arms.

you played with his hair and just watched him. it was a little funny actually, for someone with such a hard exterior to be hugging a hello kitty teddy bear wrapped up in your rose patterned sheets.

when miles' dad died two years ago it really took a toll on him. he became extremely distant, skipping school for days at a time. sometimes a whole week would go by where he didn't talk to you at all. his dad died during a bank robbery, getting shot multiple times while trying to save the hostages. four years ago, the spider-man of your city died getting beaten to death by kingpin and ever since then brooklyn's crime rates have only gotten worse. miles' dad was really the last drop of genuine goodness in the local police department.

eventually though, miles came back around, deeply apologetic for staying away from you. you of course told him it was alright and you guys got back into the swing of things. when he got lost in the darkness, you became his light.

you eventually fell asleep, miles staying in between your legs and when you woke up the next morning he was gone. he sent a text around three saying he had to go to work and he was sorry to leave. whatever job he had seemed to be very demanding, whenever you brought it up he would brush it off saying it wasn't that big of a deal and you didn't need to worry. you never pressed too much about it not wanting to drive him away again so you dismissed it.

you got up and went to the bathroom to brush your teeth, but when you were done, the toothbrush wouldn't let go. you tried your best to shake it off your hand, using your other hand to pull it off only for it to get stuck too. your thoughts were so loud you thought someone was screaming at you. "what the hell?" you whispered. you scraped the toothbrush off on the side of the sink. you opened the door only for your hand to get stuck to the knob too. "fuck man what's going on!" you shouted. your mom came and opened the door for you. "n/n what the hell are you screaming in my house for" she said narrowing her eyes at you.

"i don't know my hands keep sticking to things and i have a huge headache." you replied pulling your hand off the knob, it coming off the door. "girl what the hell is going on!" your mom said picking up the knob. "i don't even know?! i can fix it later!" you said rushing to your room.

alright you had to figure out what the fuck was going on. your eyes landed on a comic book nas must've left in your room: spider-man. you'd read them before obviously, you furrowed your eyebrows. no there's no way that's what was going on. you thought back to the spider that landed on you last night, quickly checking your arm to see a small rash where it landed. there was a small string of web inside it, you pulled it out and examined it. no fucking way.

you grabbed the comic book and read through it, how was it even possible for two spiders, your world already had one. you aimed for a plushie that sat in your desk chair, you copied the finger motions in the comic and shot a web out. your eyes almost bulged out of your head when it soon came shooting out of your wrist. "holy fuck.." you breathed out.

walking over to a wall in your room that was relatively bare you pressed your palm up against it, it sticking. you pressed your foot up next and began crawling up your wall. soon you were on your roof, your curls flipping upside down. out of nowhere your fingers began popping off one by one and you fell to the floor, hitting your waist on the side of your dresser. "ow fuck!" you yelled, groaning as you rubbed your side.

"alright for real what is going on with you this morning? you alright?" your mom said barging into your room. "y-yeah i just tripped and hit my side" you groaned. "alright well come eat, i made eggs and pancake" she told you, walking off.

after breakfast you ran to your closet to change into an outfit. "not this shit again" you grumbled tugging on the door, all of a sudden the door popped off the hinges making you let out a gasp. your mom was gonna kill you if you kept destroying her house like this.

struggling to get into your baggy jeans and some random t shirt, you told your mom you were heading out and you kept the comic in your handbag, taking it out to read more while on the subway. the same thing was happening to peter parker in the book, he stopped the unwanted sticking by finding something to relax him. one thing that always relaxed you was your music, so you popped in your earbuds and put some on.

you reached your destination, begrudgingly walking up the stairs of may parker's house. the door opened and you saw the woman who's nephew was in the news four years ago. you had researched where to find her and looked up her address online. you hate to track down this lady and bring up old news about her dead nephew but if anyone knew how to help right now, it was her.

"h-hi, um i know you don't know me but my name is y/n" you said nervously tapping your nails. "hello, how can i help you?" she asked with a smile. "um im sorry to bother you but i was wondering if i could talk to you about peter parker...spider-man" you asked in a small voice. the lady's face dropped and she stepped back beginning to close the door. "wait! please i'm not sure what's going on but i think the same thing that happened to him is happening to me!" you frantically spoke. that caught her attention as she opened the door again.

"what do you mean?" may asked raising an eyebrow. "um i got bit by a spider last night and then this morning i woke up with the sticking, the strength, the loud thoughts. i even shot a web out of my fricking wrist earlier." you explained. "please i know you don't know me but i don't know who else to turn to" you pleaded. she looked at you for a moment, seemingly taking in all the information you just spewed at her. "follow me" she spoke up after a minute.

you followed her through her house, leading out back to a shed. you furrowed your eyebrows wondering where the hell she had taken you. "u-uh where are we going?" you asked. "just trust me" she said, suddenly the shed turned into an elevator and within seconds you were way underground. your jaw dropped seeing all the high tech spider technology scattered around the room. there were suits and gadgets you'd recognized, others you didn't.

"listen, i don't frequent this place as much as i used to for...obvious reasons. but, if you're gonna take on the challenge of becoming new york's next spider-man, i wanna help ya out." she told you. "w-wait i never said i would become the next spider-man." she suddenly began measuring parts of your body and your height. "can you fight?" she asked. "yeah my uncle owns a boxing gym and he takes me there a lot" you answered, confused. "do you know how to shoot your webs?" she asked again, taking your arm in her hand, examining the microscopic hole in your wrists.

"uh i've only shot one? i don't even know how i did it" you admitted. "i'll get started on your suit and your web shooters" she said moving over to a desk in the corner. "hey i never said i was gonna become the next spider-man" you said following behind her. "listen, kiddo. you've been chosen to get these powers. now i don't know how because based on what i've seen there's not supposed to be two in one universe. but you have these powers now and you're going to have you use them. i know it's a lot to ask of you to suddenly start taking care of our city, you're just a young girl. i don't know how and i don't know why but these powers were given to you, and with great power comes great responsibility." she told you.

you didn't say anything just taking in what she told you, eyebrows furrowed. you were only looking for a way to get rid of these powers or subdue them, you weren't ready to become some spider-man copy. "listen, think about it. i'm gonna go ahead and make what you're gonna need. come back tomorrow after school if you think you're up for it." may told you, you nodded your head.

she showed you back to the front door and you said your goodbyes. you had really big decision to make, the words 'with great power comes great responsibility' ringing loudly over and over in your head.

you stayed out the whole day deciding to do some damage to your wallet. you were already out and you were stressed so why not? it was getting a little late and you decided it was time to head home. you tensed up and your ears rung, hearing people argue in some back alley.

"nate get off of me!" a girl's voice said. the guy ignored her cries and kept pushing himself onto her, wrapping a hand around her neck. "nate!" she yelled out gripping at his hands to pry them off. you quickly ran over and dropped your bags on the ground. "yo you stupid fuck she said to get off!" you shouted. he looked over and scoffed "yeah and what are you gonna do?"

"god i fucking hate motherfuckers like you. dirty nasty men thinking you can get anything you want. turning women into subjects of your torture just to get your tiny little dick wet" you spat making your way closer to him. he threw the girl on the wall and walked over to you "why don't you mind your own fucking business and get out of here" he said getting ready to push you, you grabbing his wrists before he could. man these powers came in handy.

you twisted his arm around his back and slammed him into a wall. the girl he was bothering ran back and watched as you beat him up, sending punch after punch to his face. you already knew how to fight but this super strength was real useful.

finally you figured he had enough and grabbed your bags. you looked around for the girl again but it seemed she'd already ran off, you grabbed your shopping bags and went home leaving nate in the alley.

the next day at school all you could think about was your powers and your new found responsibilities. after your altercation with that guy you realized that you could help so many more people if you went through with becoming spider-man.

you hopped off the bus and walked up to may's front door, knocking. she opened the door with a smirk on her face "knew you'd be back" she said opening the door further for you to come in.

you got down to her secret basement, her opening a chest and showing you the contents. you saw a spider mask staring back at you. you pulled it out of the chest, gawking at the black suit with a light pink spider on the chest, intricate designs resembling webs on the sides and on the back. the eyes of the spider mask had a light pink outline and your web shooters a matching shade. “why don’t we head upstairs to try it on?” she asked, happy you seemed to like her work.

you quickly slipped out of your school uniform and into the spider suit. it fit like a glove, fabric strong enough to protect you but thin enough for you to stick. you tugged the mask down and admired your look in the mirror. “ya like it?” she asked, smiling. “i-i love it! it’s so me. i just don’t understand how you did all this so quickly.” you said tugging at the fabric.

“hey i know my way around some machines.” she laughed. “come on, i’ll show you everything you need to know”

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

imagine being in love with sanji

It was another late evening on the Sunny; nothing but miles and miles of sea to be had and the crew scattered among the ship. There was a light breeze that felt good under the lowering sun and all I wanted to do was go up to the library to get lost in a book for the rest of the day. Walking up the steps to the upper deck, I spotted Zoro taking in the sea and when he turned, he grinned. Immediately he asked if I wanted to train up in the crow’s nest, but I pretended not to hear him. He grumbled and yelled for me as I jogged up the steps toward the observation room. Laughing to myself, I walked into the observation room that served as the library as well as Nami’s office.

The smell of books filled the air, and I walked over to my usual spot on the bench that looped around the library. The book I was reading last was still where I had left it and I made little time picking it up. I got comfortable and leaned back, feet leaned out and crossed in front of me. The bookmark, which was made of a scrap of paper from a mapping mistake from Nami, had been replaced with a note. I looked around before taking the note and placing the book on my lap. It was folded neatly, corners touching perfectly and when I opened the note – perfect penmanship greeted me.

“Meet me tonight in the aquarium.”

No signature but I knew who it was from, and the thought made my entire body flush with warmness. Tucking the note into my back pocket, I grabbed my book with a smile and tried my best to concentrate. My concentration lasted about an hour before I left the observation room and made my way back to the girl’s dorm to get ready for dinner. At dinner, Sanji had made a generous three course meal that even had Luffy feeling full at the end – well, as full as he could get. Alcohol passed around for a few rounds before everyone started to settle for the night. Zoro left to the crow’s nest, Nami to the library while the rest of the men, sans Sanji, went to Usopp’s workshop to see what new weapons he had come up with. Robin and I walked back to the women’s dorm, exchanging book recommendations. We chatted for a while as we got ready for bed and eventually when Nami made her way back to the room – the three of us fell asleep.

Except I didn’t.

I laid awake listening to their soft snores until I felt it was safe to get up. I was still in my sweats and tee shirt when I slowly crept towards the door. My hand rested on the doorknob for a moment but when I went to turn it, a hand came over my mouth. I panicked for a moment but instantly knew it was Robin. I slowly turned to see her sitting up in her bed, smiling.

“Secret lovers. How cute.”

Her whisper wasn’t much of a whisper, but Nami didn’t stir. I begged her to be quiet and she giggled, two hands appeared at my side with my coat I had left in my closet. Then another hand appeared with a pair of my socks. I smiled then and grabbed the items, thanking her with a wave before departing the room. I slipped the socks on in the hallway, shrugging the coat on as I made my way to the aquarium. I wondered how long he had waited and hoped it wasn’t too much, but as I entered the room he did as well – from the kitchen.

Sanji was standing there in a soft blue button up and black slacks; sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was about to light a cigarette when he saw me and seemed to forget as we met in front of the large observation windows. A few dozen fish were swimming around as he smiled shyly, taking my hand in his.

“You got my note, love.”

“I do every time.”

I leaned into his body, allowing him to pull me as close as possible. His arm slipped around my waist, and he dug his nose into the nape of my neck. I hugged him tightly, rubbing his hand up and down his back. Sanji relaxed under my touch, and he whispered that he had missed me.

“I’ve seen you at least a dozen times today.”

He scoffed, kissing my neck. “We never get enough alone time.”

Sanji wasn’t wrong; no one, except possibly Robin, knew the two of us had been sneaking around for months now. Finding time when the ship was quiet to spend time together – like two teenagers in love. But we were two crewmates in love, and we weren’t sure what that would mean for the entire crew. Would it change the dynamic? It hadn’t so far, but still, it was a scary thought.

“I want to tell them.”

I pulled back from Sanji, shock on my face. “Tell them? Luffy? Everyone?”

He smiled softly with eyes full of admiration, devotion, and love. “Why not? I’m tired of sneaking around, aren’t you?”

It wasn’t like the thought didn’t cross my mind – every time I was near Sanji, I felt like I would implode from the impulse to touch him. To hold his hand or softly caress his hair – to follow him around freely in the kitchen or to lounge together on the grass without worrying about anyone seeing us. All the times I wanted to kiss him on the lips, our eyes meeting across the room at dinner time.

God, all the times I missed the opportunity to be openly his.

“Don’t be so quiet, love, it scares me.”

My eyes looked up at him and I touched his chest. “We should tell them.”

Sanji’s eyes relaxed and he grabbed my face gently, rubbing his thumbs against my cheeks. “Tomorrow then.”

“Okay.”

“I adore you; you know that?”

Moving my arms around his neck, I leaned in for a kiss but stopped an inch from his lips. “No, but you should show me.”

Sanji nearly whimpered, moving me swiftly to the bench. He moved me down onto his lap, fingers moving aside hair from my face; he looked ethereal under the low lights and the glow of the water surrounding us. What a fool I had been for even thinking of hiding that he was mine and I was his. He kissed me, touched me with tender hands well into the night and when the two of us were breathless with flushed skin – we whispered I love you.

[aemonds-sapphire]

Bonding

Summary: You are excited to share the news with Aemond: you're with child. But nothing could have prepared you for his reaction…

Pairing: Aemond x fem!reader (wife)

Warnings: Pregnancy. Vulnerable Aemond opening up. Hurt/Comfort.

A/N: I really hope you are able to fall deeper for Aemond as I have. Writing this really made me feel for him and everything he has been through.

Word count: 1.6k

Footsteps echoed across the bedroom as you patiently waited for him to return.

Inside, you were bursting with excitement, but you still had to remain calm and collected on the outside as servants were kept busy with their daily chores and entered the room freely.

Prince Aemond’s long awaited arrival was announced by the unmistakable groundshaking roar coming from Vhagar that tore throughout King’s Landing.

You rushed to the window in the hopes of spotting the young prince the mighty dragon, and when she came into your field of vision you could barely contain your emotions.

The old dragon glided across the sky in a gentle descent, heading towards the dragonpit. Now, Vhagar was far too enormous to be kept there, so it would just be a brief stop to drop off her rider.

Aemond sat upright with such elegance that you were certain he fully embodied the glory and might of the house of the dragon.

Nervousness started to grip your heart as you asked the servants to exit the room.

As minutes ticked by, you felt an impending nausea wash over you.

You couldn't be sick. Not now.

The bedroom door swung open and young Prince Aemond walked in, and removed his cloak off to reveal his handsome features.

"Lord husband," you greeted in a forced neutral tone and with a proper bow, lacing your hands in front of you.

Seeing your sudden serious pose had him curl his lips in his traditional smile as he adjusted his unruly silver hair.

"Lady wife," he bowed and the two of you just stood there in silence for a brief moment.

You were the first to crack the mask with a soft grin, rushing to his embrace.

Manners and formalities had no place when the two of you were alone, so you'd occasionally mock the lords and ladies of the court, which never failed to draw a smile from Aemond.

He enveloped you with his arms and pulled you into a sweet and tender kiss. You'd missed his warmth and how he had the ability to make it feel like you were his entire world.

Softness gave way to an increasing roughness as he deepened the kiss, cupping your face with one hand as the other gripped your waist.

Passionate as ever, Aemond had you melting into his touch, pressing his lower half to yours and letting you know of his intentions.

Oh.

You broke the kiss. "Well, someone's excited," you chuckled, looking down to the growing bulge in his dark pants.

"Dragon riding always sharpens my appetite," Aemond grinned mischievously, toying with the lace that carefully held your robes over your heaving breasts.

As much as you'd love to give into the temptation, you had to brush that aside, putting a halt to his prying fingers.

"I have something to tell you."

The young prince arched an eyebrow. "What is it?"

You took his hand and placed it on your stomach, waiting for the implication to hit him.

"Are you hurt?" Aemond suddenly said as his voice had a hint of concern.

Men.

"No. I'm with child," you said, caressing the fingers on your belly. "Our child."

His face visibly dropped and he dropped his hand to his side.

"How?"

You rolled your eyes, chuckling at the absurdity of his question. "You really want to me to remind you of how this happened?"

He shook his head. "No, of course... I mean… are you certain?"

Apprehension took a hold of you, and slowly but surely your hands started shaking lightly.

Was he not happy? Did he not want a child?

Casting your worries aside, you cleared your throat. "Grand Maester Mellos has confirmed it. I haven't bled in two moon cycles."

Aemond remained silent as if still processing everything you'd just told him.

You searched for his hands and entwined your fingers with his. "What is it? You do not seem pleased..."

"What if I'm not fit to be a father?"

Those words took you aback momentarily. "Nonsense. Why do you think that?"

He was visibly uncomfortable as you felt the grip on your fingers increasing.

"I didn't grow up knowing what that feels like."

King Viserys had seldom been a father to his son. Even long before he had managed to bond with Vhagar. Every sense of loyalty and tenderness he had was taught by his mother. But the scars of neglect ran deep within his core, and you couldn't really blame his mind for conjuring up all these fears.

"You will be an exceptional father, I’m sure.”

He looked away, definitely avoiding your gaze. “And if our child grows to resent me like I resentsed my father..."

The damage Aemond Targaryen had been been subjected to had a firm grip on his emotional balance, and that much was crystal clear to you now. He kept coming up with daunting scenarios of how this would not go well, instead of embracing this as an opportunity for him to prove his worth by showing everyone that he was not his father.

You brought one hand to his face, silently pleading that he'd look at you.

"Do not worry about this, Aemond. You having these doubts shows me you're already a better father than he could ever be."

His uncovered eye landed on you, embracing your touch, but not your words.

“Our child could never resent you.”

"You do not know that."

"I do not," you nodded, caressing his cheek, keeping your eyes firmly on his. "But I do know you, and you are nothing like your father."

The young prince still didn't seem convinced in the slightest.

"Aemond... you will be an exceptional father." It was getting harder to maintain your voice calm as the gut-wrenching realisation hit you.

He had never once expressed wanting a child, and now you understood why. You didn't think much of it back then, because it was something to be expected in a marriage.

You'd wrongly assumed the hurt from his past wouldn't have such a hold on him, throwing him into this loop of never-ending worries.

"What if our child is unable to..." he paused abruptly and your heart clenched in anticipation as his eye was now set on your enlaced hands. "... to claim a dragon."

"Oh, Aemond," you whispered as an uncontrollable wave of concern washed over you. "Aemond..."

You weren't sure your words would bring any comfort to him, but it was the best you had to offer.

Unlacing your hands from his, you brought them to frame his face. "Look at me, Aemond."

When his eye met yours, you caressed his cheeks lovingly. Beads of sweat pooled on his forehead and even his breathing had become erratic.

It was as if the proud and elegant Targaryen prince had been replaced with someone else. You had heard the stories of how Aemond was once ridiculed for being unable to bond with a dragon, in spite of his best efforts.

"Do not pity me, my lady," he broke the silence. "Great warriors aren't born, they are made."

Always so eloquent, but it surely seemed like he was merely trying to convince himself of that.

You nodded. "Exactly. You faced that obstacle and you overcame it. You will be there for our child, and that is all that matters."

Aemond flinched away from your touch. "And if you're not?"

"What do you mean?"

"My father's first wife died during childbirth," his voice was strained. "I cannot bear the thought of losing you."

Your heart skipped a beat.

"Aemond... you will not lose me," you weren't sure whether you were comforting him or yourself at this point. "Maester Mellos is quite capable and he has already provided me with some teas to boost my health."

Both his hands were now on yours as he leaned to rest his forward on yours.

"I cannot lose you." His voice was but a whisper.

"You will not," you said once more, closing both eyes and simply enjoying the unexpected display of adoration.

He heaved a deep sigh before pushing you into a tight embrace. "Avy jorrāelan."

Your eyes flew open and you felt your heart soar in delight. He had never uttered those words before. Not even on the day you were promised to each other for eternity.

If you were going to go on this new journey of having a child, you couldn't feel safer knowing it'd be by his side.

"Avy... jorāelan..." your High Varylian was rudementary at best, but that didn't stop you from trying.

You felt a low chuckle rumble across his chest. "Very good, lady wife."

"Do not mock me," your eyes looked up to meet him with a dramatic pout on your face.

A genuine smile tugged at his lips. "I wouldn't dream of doing so."

He then dropped to one knee, gripping your waist tenderly with both hands.

Nothing could have prepared you for witnessing Aemond Targaryen lovingly planting a kiss to your covered belly. Your tangled your fingers along his hair, completely and utterly in love with how vulnerable he looked, but also so willling to embrace change.

You watched as he pressed his cheek where his lips had just been, and whispered something in High Valyrian you couldn’t decipher. But maybe it wasn’t meant for you to.

This was just between them.

[viperixsworld]

GUTS, luke castellan x oc

(chapter one: new kid)

summary: Arianne and Luke just existing in camp and being the it couple.

disclaimer: im in introduction mood, so sorry. im thinking of making this story a full of oneshots and not a chapter after chapter think, idk. Enjoy this!!!

Set in Percy Jackson and the Olympians E1S1

Cabin ten, home to Aphordite's children. If Barbie and a military battalion had a kid, it would be the tenth cabin on Camp Half-blood. Arianne Deveraux was named captain and head counselor of the tenth cabin the day of her sixteen birthday, and since then she had to deal with all her brothers and sisters.

Two days later, Luke Castellan asked her to accompany him to a counselor meeting.

Said counselor meeting was actually a secret, not so secret, party for older campers, that had absolutly nothing to do with the fact that Chiron was out of camp in a secret quest and Mr.D had being persuaded with coke zero.

"Come on lovie, let's have some fun"

Wasn't he charming?

Apollo kids were at some (probably stolen) dj stuff, while Castor and Pollux were serving drinks and food. And every camper at sight waves and said hello to Luke. Three years at camp, and Ari was just starting to understand how deep Luke's influence run in the campus.

"So... are you gettin me a drink or what, champ?"

"And they said you were meek" laughed the boy.

"What can i say? Looks are deceiving"

"You don't have to swear it"

Later that night, when they had to break up the party after the earlier arrival of Chiron, some Demeter kid spread the rumor that captains of cabin 10 and 11 were making out behind a tree at the bonefire.

Some months after that, it was natural to see the two of them walking aroud camp, training together or swimming at the canoe lake. Her brothers and sisters would wait in the door of cabin 10, waiting for her to arrive past the curfew just to watch them say their goodbyes until next day.

"Quick! Hide behind the curtain!"

"Mitchell, she's gonna see you"

"Shut up, Val"

Arianne just draw her palm to her face as they stayed at the front door of cabin 10, her back facing the window while Luke only bit his tongue to avoid laughing at he situation. When Ari lifted her eyes from the floor, she found Luke's eyes just looking straight to her, as if he was trying to remember every little spot of her face, as if he was about to spend so much time without seeing her.

"Guess we have public tonight".

"They being spying us the whole day, I really hope they're not that bad when monsters are around"

Luke took a step foward, and before she could say her goodnight, he grabbed her face with two hands and kissed her on the lips. It was sweet and innocent and felt like being on a Pegasus. Her heart was beating faster than being chased by a monster and she actually heard the voices of her siblings giggling and clappin their hands.

"See you tomorrow at training, lovie"

Ari opened her eyes, finding Lukes mischievous grin, who was already on his way to his cabin.

"You just gave them a show" the girl complained

"No, your face did" responded the boy.

"I hate you".

"Nah".

She waved her goodbye to her boy with a foolish smile plastered on her face and prepare herself mentally for the nightmare of children behind that pink door. So, before entering, she breathed in and out three times, and stepped inside. She found all of her siblings looking at her, grinning at her, while poorly hidden behind curtains or under blankets.

"If your not dead sleeping before the count of ten, I will personally hunt you one by one in Capture the Flag"

This being said, the children practically flew to their bunkbeds as she directed herself to the twinbed she shared with her half-sister Silena.

The black haired girl was pretending to read a Vogue magazine when Ari just threw herself on her bed.

"Stop the act, Silena. I saw you looking out the window with Mitch and Val" said the captain.

Silena just left the magazine on the nightstand and looked at her big sister. They endured this for five seconds before brusting in laughs and putting her hands over their mouths to avoid bringin the attetion of the younger.

"Is he a good kisser?"

"Silena!"

"Don't shout! A girl just wants to know, don't blame me"

"It was all right" Ari said just staring at the ceiling "He felt right, get me?". Silena just looked to her sister in admiration, a look of pure happiness.

"Got it" she responded "Ugh, I'm so jealous... wish Charlie wasn't that dense".

"Give him time... it's not an easy task falling in love with a daugther of the goddess of love".

"Says the one with a boyfriend".

"Hey! It took time too, you know? Charlie will get it, don't worry about it. And if not, you can always leave it to your big counselor sister who can give him more chores!"

Silena just pushed her a little and they laugh again, falling sleep on the same bed after their conversation.

Later the same night, Arianne and Silena were woken up by a loud thud and the sun rays that sneak to the pinkish courtains. Apollo was feeling it today, huh? Arianne got off the bed, stretching after spending the night sharing a single bed with her dear sister, who kicks like hell.

"Mitch, what's going on si early?" she asked her little brother, who was running around the cabin with only one shoe one.

Did she sleep in? Why is everybody up that early? It was only 8:30 in the morning, most of the campers (especially HER campers) wouldn't leave their cabins until 9:00 for breakfast at mess hall.

She was sure as Tartarus that it wasn't inspection day, and she knew because the one in charge of that, was still lying in bed trying to get up. And Silena was really serious when it came to inspection day.

"A new kid entered at camp last night! Michael from Apollo said he killed a minotaur entering camp with Grover! Gods, he said the kid kept the horn!" said the boy before sprinting out the cabin.

What?

"Sil? Wake up, come on".

"Only five minutes" she murmured.

"Get your ass up!"

They dressed as quick as they could, (easy for Ari because she went to bed with the clothes from the day before). When both of them get to the mess hall, everyone was talking about the mysterious kid that one handedly got to kill a minotaur.

Apparently, poor boy passed out from the attack and was recovering in the infirmary, not even Apollo's children had access right now by Chiron's orders.

Silena went to their table, as for Ari, she was getting her food when Chris Rodríguez and Clarisse La Rue were having a conversation about it.

"I mean, a minotaur is big thing Clarisse".

"Beginner's luck, Rodríguez" said the Ares kid.

"Don't be mean, Clarisse" scolded the Aphordite's daugther entering the chat.

Despite being two opposite poles, La Rue and Deveraux had a good friendship and mutual respect. That probably comes from the close relationship between their godly parents (so to speak).

It was kind of relieving for Clarisse to know someone that she didn't need to impress. And for Arianne it was nice to have someone that wouldn't just underestimate her because of her looks, and actually saw that she wasn't a shallow, pretty face and that she could defend herself as well as any other demigod.

"Bet he's the son of Ares" said Chris "A new baby brother, Clarisse!".

Needless to say, Chris earned a hit from the Ares girl.

"What problem do you children of Hermes have with betting?" asked Arianne laughing while serving herself some pancakes with strawberry syrup.

"Make's life more insteresting, lovie" said a voice behind her, while an arm rested comfortably on her shoulders. "What are you three bickering about this morning, huh?" said Luke's voice.

"Good morning for you too" Arianne greeted.

With his arm still on her shoulder, Luke left a discret kiss on her hair. " What are the news?" he asked.

"Newbie kill a minotaur last night, and everyones freaking out" Clarisse said disdainfully.

"Unclaimed?".

"Seems like we'll have the bullslayer at our place, bro" said Chris before he and Clarisse went to their respective tables.

"Be nice to the kid, he is probably super scared right now" Arianne told Luke, gettin face to face.

Luke raised an eyebrow questioning her words.

"Im always nice to new campers".

Arianne just grinned and pecked his cheek before going to her sister, who was eagerly waiting for her pancakes.

[seungmoonandstars]

𝐿𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝒟𝒶𝓉𝑒

Kim Seungmin/Female Reader

wc: 11k

rating: mature/explicit ಇ

comments: thanks everyone for the likes and reblogs and feedback! (´︶`) knowing someone is enjoying my fics makes writing seungmin so much easier. technically this is the last part, but not really...

⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ ﾟ｡ ⋆

→ Blind Date

→ Second Date

→ Third Date

Part 4 of 4

Seungmin goes quiet after that, relaxes against the arm of the couch. You’re on the opposite side, doing the same. You watch each other carefully , but nobody makes a move, and nobody starts to speak.

You wonder if there was something you could have done to avoid all of this drama. Four and a half months of wondering; of being so down you can barely make it to work some days. Both of you have been really bad at this.

“Yes, I know it’s complicated.”

-

Counting the days and weeks until Seungmin comes back to you has been excruciating, sometimes anxiety inducing, and the only thing really keeping you together.

As of today it’s been 136 days since you spent the night with him. Twenty weeks, almost, since you looked at him face to face—touched him, kissed him, desperately wanted to confess how you’ve already fallen for him, and you never want to leave his side again.

But he did text you three days ago.

A part of you feels like giving up, because maybe this has gone on for far too long.

It’s nothing that Seungmin has done. He hasn’t said anything to you about things likely not working out. He talks to you in the same sweet, cheery way he always has when he actually has time to text, or call. You don’t resent him for his lack of communication, ever, because you know his lifestyle is worlds away from yours.

But the part of you that’s crazy about him sits and thinks: he can call for a five minute conversation, ask me how I am before I completely fall apart. You think…why hasn’t he messaged back? It takes a few seconds.

You hate having these thoughts. But you’re only human, and you have so much empty time to think about him.

It’s just not the same for him. It might never be the same for him.

Right now you’re staring out of your classroom window, completely lost in thought. The kids are working quietly, and it’s honestly the first time all day where you’ve been truly alone in your head.

There’s a loud knock on the door, and it makes you, and your students, jump.

“Come in…”

The door opens slowly, and the face that peeks through the door is a familiar one.

“Hey,” Choonhee waits a moment, then enters and closes the door behind her. She grabs a chair and finds a spot to sit directly in front of, across your desk.

“Hi, what’s up?”

“I’m on my way out, but I wanted to see you before I left. I keep missing you, and you’re not answering my messages.” The look she gives you is a little bit questioning, and a little bit irritated.

“Sorry, I’ve just had a lot on my mind. I’m trying to get out of this slump.”

“Slump? The same one you’ve been in for the last…” she gestures vaguely at nothing, “month? Maybe longer, I don’t know.”

“Yeah,” you manage, but it comes out shaky. You feel your throat tighten, and the air is pushed out of your lungs. Your eyes sting with tears. You can’t do this here.

“Hey hey, I’m sorry.” Choonhee starts to stand, “go pull yourself together, I’ll watch the class.”

You inhale deeply and make your way to the restroom. Luckily you have it to yourself, because when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror, tears are starting to stream down your cheeks. The result of bottling up until you explode.

Talking to Choonhee about this was always an option, but you haven’t. For some reason, you didn’t want her know how deep the cut is that Seungmin has made in you.

Her blind date was probably never supposed to turn into this; something serious, something you want, maybe more than anything you’ve ever wanted. You feel stupid and childish about it, because you know who he is. Sometimes you have to remind yourself that it was him that initiated date number two, and three, sort of, otherwise you’ll convince yourself you somehow forced him into all of this.

It takes far too long for you to finish crying and clean yourself up, but she’s still sitting there waiting when you return.

“I’ll be over tonight, and we’re going to talk it out. Okay?” She says.

You nod, eyes still red, makeup probably giving you two black eyes.

“I have to get going, I’ll see you later. Your phone went off while you were in the bathroom.”

You watch her as she walks out, then look to your students. In a few minutes, they’ll be dismissed. And you can go home and finish the crying that you’ve started.

First, you sit and poke the screen of your phone. It’s just a text message.

No, it’s not just a text message. It’s Seungmin. Choonhee probably looked, but all she would’ve seen is the contact name for him; SM.

Weeks ago, you almost changed it to Minnie, but you didn’t. The impersonal, secretive SM remained. You unlock your phone and open it.

I hope you had a good day. You’re just leaving work, I think…if I have my time right

And just like that, he pulls you back up, and back in. He says the right thing at just the right time. Although today, he he did miss it by a few minutes.

Now you battle with whether or not you text him back immediately, or wait until you get home. Neither feels like the right thing to do. You stare down at the message until it’s time for you to dismiss your class, thinking of what to say to him.

It’s personal. He took note of the time, and remembered when it is you usually leave.

Part of you feels like crying again, but your heart is fluttering. You hate this.

———

“I got your favorite!” Choonhee starts unloading the bag of food she brought with her. “Don’t look so defeated over there.”

She let herself in while you sat folded up on the couch. You’re still looking at your phone, trying to figure out what to say to him. Should you keep it casual and tell him your day was alright? Lie?

No, you could tell him the truth; that it was a rough day, and you’ve had a lot of days like this lately because you haven’t seen him in such a long time. But you have no idea how he’d react to that. Maybe he would feel guilty about not texting more, or feel bad because he’s been too busy to see you when he is in Seoul.

Or maybe he would feel overwhelmed by it, and decide enough was enough.

Seungmin—the Seungmin you know, at least, has always come off very laidback. Open when he needed to be, but not overly so. He’s a little bit reserved, but so many moments with him have been…cute.

And Chicago. It’s been so long since Chicago—long enough that the memory is fading a little. You have to think back on it and keep yourself there, in that moment, to remember all the detail. It’s all still there, in your head.

Finally, you start to type.

“Hi Minnie. I had a rough day today…I hope I get to see you again soon.”

You stare at it until Choonhee clears her throat in an attempt to get your attention.

You read it once more, then send it.

“Okay, dinner is served. Eat and tell me what’s been bothering you.”

You set your phone face down on the table and take a few bites before getting into it. Starting the conversation will be the most difficult.

So you just start.

“This is a little bit my fault, isn’t it?” Choonhee listened quietly, but you could tell she wasn’t expecting this to be about him. “I pushed this on you. I knew he spoke to you back in…June? I think it was June. But I didn’t know you saw each other again after the first date.”

“Yeah, there was a second date. And a third. And, well…ya know.”

Her eyebrows raise, “what? Fourth, fifth?”

“No, we slept together.”

She’s silent for a long moment, but her eyes remain fixed on you.

“When I went home in July. Remember?”

She’s still silent.

“I haven’t seen him since then.”

“Seungmin doesn’t like opening up to people. He doesn’t do that. Or he didn’t, at least. Are you sure you didn’t just…dream it?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I didn’t dream about having sex with him and then convince myself it really happened.”

Choonhee throws her hands up and waves your remark away, “okay I’m sorry, I’m just…surprised. I mean, even the multiple dates is a little surprising.”

“Then why did you even set us up?”

She shrugs, and then struggles to find the right words, “I don’t know…you were both here, and alone. I didn’t want you to spend the holiday by yourself. I thought you’d like him…I guess I was right. I’m not usually good with matches.

“So…are you saying I should just move on?”

“No, absolutely not! Text him right now, and tell him you want to see him when he gets home. He doesn’t get to fuck and run. I don’t care who he is.”

She goes quiet for a few seconds, but you can tell she’s frustrated and deep in thought. “I knew you’d like him. I’m sorry, I made this mess. If he doesn’t get himself together and talk to you like he should, I’ll go find him myself.”

———

By the time your text message gets to Seungmin, he’s home, undressed, and about to hop into a very hot shower. He smiles when he reads Minnie, because in the far too few messages exchanged, you’ve mostly called him Seungmin. His smile fades when he reads the rest.

He knows he’s been bad at this. Not just bad, actually—he’s been pathetic. He’s ghosted you, and strung you along for weeks.

No, he thinks. It’s been months of sporadic texting. Every time he was home, or close to home, he ignored you. Not maliciously, of course, and ignored is a strong word. He messaged you, but it really was the bare minimum. Especially after the last time you were together; you gave yourself to him, and Seungmin took all that he could.

Now he can’t admit to you how much it scared him.

He sets his phone down for now, and climbs into the shower—because once again, his mind, body, and everything in between is tired.

He’s so tired, he feels like he could cry. Maybe if he just let go, let himself wrap around someone and cry into their chest, he would feel better.

———

“When did he text you last?” Choonhee is cleaning up the table, throwing things into the sink, and generally doing a terrible job of tidying. But she means well, and you let her at it. “Has it been a while?”

“Three days ago, before today. He sent a message while you were in my classroom earlier.”

“Oh, is that who the buzz was? Did you answer back? Maybe you should just make him wait around.”

“I replied right before we ate, only because it took me a while to figure out what to say.”

You’re back on the couch now, phone in hand, eyes staring at the stagnant message thread. Figuring out his schedule is tough sometimes, and you try (and usually fail) to stay off of Twitter and fan sites. Right now you’re sifting through them, though—looking for anything new.

You pull up a few airport photos from earlier today. Seungmin is hidden behind a mask and a hat, but you can see his eyes. He looks tired.

It makes your heart sink. You return to your message thread again and read through the last few texts; they feel more and more impersonal as time goes on, and that makes your heart sink, too.

Maybe he is pulling away from you.

“I know saying this won’t help, but do not let this take over. Don’t let him get into your head like this.”

“It’s too late for that.”

Choonhee grabs your arm and shakes it furiously, “he’s just a guy!”

———

Seungmin is flat on his back, covers fluffed up all around him, a pillow under his head, another under his feet. No matter what he does, he’s uncomfortable. He desperately wants and needs to fall asleep, but it’s alluding him. His brain won’t shut up.

The room is chilly, and that’s usually what does the trick. Cold room, warm bed, and he’s out like a light.

He picks up his phone and reads your text again.

Hi Minnie. I had a rough day today…I hope I get to see you again soon.

If only he could figure out what to say back to you. There are so many things he wants to say, and so few ways he can think of to type it out.

Even if he were to see you face to face, he’d be lost for words. Seungmin is not one to let people in, but he has already let you in.

And now he’s stupidly pushing you away.

He pulls up a photo of you and stares at it. This wasn’t the way he planned on relaxing, but his hand is finding it’s way under his shirt anyway, touching his stomach, slowly moving downward until reaches the waistband of his sweatpants.

Thinking of your one night together, somehow still vivid in his head after all this time, is enough to get him hard. And looking at you…he runs his hand down the length of his cock, grabs tight, and strokes himself slowly. The breath he lets out is shaky. He has to be quiet.

———

“Is he?” You look at her, only slightly defeated. “…just a guy?”

“You slept with him, you should know.”

“He’s not.”

The look she gives you is almost enough to make you rethink what you just said.

“I promise you, beneath everything, he’s like any other guy you’ve dated who got too close, freaked out, and disappeared.”

You shake your head. Then your phone buzzes in your hand, and the feeling makes your heart jump to your throat, and your stomach sink all at once. You don’t immediately move your eyes to the screen—you can’t.

“Was that him?”

Now you look. SM. You nod.

you still want to see me?

You will see him again, and you’ll tell him exactly how you feel.

“What did he say?”

You turn your phone so Choonhee can read the message. She rolls her eyes.

“He sounds like a guy. I’m sorry I got you into this…but, you are going to see him again I assume.”

“Yeah, of course.”

———

It’s not until you’re in bed, hours later, that you open his text in an attempt to answer. But it might be better to do this in the morning, because sending one and waiting for his reply is going to keep you up all night.

You stare anyway, trying to get your thoughts in order; your words, your feelings. Do you want him to know how you really feel now, or when you have him in front of you? Can you even get the right words out when he’s in front of you?

You open your notes app and begin working on a reply.

You know I want to see you, Seungmin. I’m trying to be patient and understanding, but it’s so hard when you’re on my mind every day. I hope you’re getting some rest, and I hope you’re doing well. And I hope I can see you before you leave again.

You fall asleep writing. And in the morning, there he is again. One text message sent at 5am.

I’m so sorry. I should have made time for you in October, but every time I wanted to ask you, I froze, I don’t know why, I have no excuse

For a moment, you think you accidentally sent the rough draft of your text in your sleep. You didn’t. This was just him, awake before dawn, finally giving you something sincere. Now you have to rethink your reply.

The typing notification pops up while you’re reading over his message again. Still awake at 6:45.

I remember you telling me you wake up at the same time every morning... Good morning

You feel like crying again. But not like yesterday.

“Good morning” is the best you can come up with this early. He’ll have to wait.

———

Seungmin falls asleep, eventually, but not comfortably.

He gets up from bed to clean himself up, change (he’s warm now, so he opts for less clothes), and hopefully he’ll still be a little bit tired by the time he hits the bed again.

At 4:45am, his body decides he’s had enough. Now he’s awake, eyes still closed, bed far too warm. He throws off the blankets and flips onto his back.

Immediately, and not surprisingly, Seungmin’s thoughts turn to you. You’re sleeping soundly, he hopes, unlike him. He imagines you in the bed he’s never seen; curled up, tucked in. Maybe if he was there with you, he could sleep.

Every time he gets back home, he tries to push himself again, and he fails. He did it in October, and then again in September, right before his birthday. He knows he can’t keep doing this to you.

He pulls out his phone and opens your message thread.

…I hope I get to see you again soon

Seungmin stops thinking and just types:

“I’m so sorry. I should have made time for you in October…”

He stops and reads it. October. He was busy with the album release, but if he looks back in his messages again, he can count the number of texts he sent on one hand. You sent just as many…well, one more than him. That last message he didn’t even reply to. You must have been fed up with him and his lack of communication. And you had every right to be.

“…but every time I wanted to ask you, I froze, I don’t know why, I have no excuse.”

This part is true. Seungmin is almost freezing again right now.

“I don’t know how to explain…”

Now he thinks.

“…how all of this is making me feel. Maybe I’m…”

Seungmin backspaces the last sentence before he even finishes it. And then he hits send.

At 6:45, he’s still wide awake. He remembers you telling him your alarm is always set for this time, so he sends one more message.

And you reply. He was right, you were awake. Just a good morning, though. He’s sure it’s far too early for you to deal with his wishy-washy bullshit.

———

When he doesn’t text again by lunch time, you decide he’s waited long enough. And you can’t waste time, really. He might not be in town for long.

“I want to see you, and I will see you. Today, tomorrow, it doesn’t matter. But I need it to be soon. Neither of us are allowed to be nervous anymore.”

It’s better, you decide, than whatever you wrote last night.

He’s silent as you drift through the rest of the school day (you assume he’s having trouble thinking of a reply to that), and right as the class is gathering their things and leaving, another teacher sneaks in and approaches you. Then you realize it’s not a teacher, but you recognize her. She’s a secretary you’ve spoken to a few times before.

She nods to you and smiles. “I know you’re on your way out, but there’s a visitor for you, a parent who insisted I bring them right to you. It seemed important.”

You have very specific times for parent/teacher visits, and this is not one of them. And there is nobody else who would visit you. You’re confused. “Okay, send them in…I guess.”

You look down at your phone—you doubt it, but maybe you missed a text message or a call. No, nothing.

“Hello.”

The way his voice floats over to you almost knocks you out, and when you turn to meet his eyes, your throat refuses to let you release the air in your lungs.

“Your last text was very insistent. I know this probably is not the best approach…but I haven’t been doing a very good job of anything lately.”

Still you just stare at him, lost for words. You look around your classroom, then down at yourself. This is not how you wanted to see him again, but do you have any room to complain?

He takes a few steps toward you, “was this a bad idea?”

You manage to shake your head and swallow. And then you realize your legs still work, with some effort. Two steps later, your arms wrap around his waist, your face disappears in his sweatshirt, and you squeeze.

His tiny, relieved laugh is music to your ears, and then his hands slide across your back until he’s fully embraced you.

You keep him there for a long time, and he doesn’t protest or try to pull you away. When he does speak again, it’s a question.

“How was your day?”

You slowly release him, but making eye contact is a bit of a challenge. “It’s better now.” So you fall apart when he does show up; no strong words, no looks of disbelief at his absence. You knew this would happen.

“Where can I take you? Home? Or…anywhere you want.”

“Home is good.”

“Okay, there’s a ride waiting for us.” He moves his hands up and over your shoulders, and he rests them on either side of your neck. “I understand if you’re angry with me, and if you stay that way.”

“I am. I don’t want to be.”

Seungmin leans closer, and he moves painfully slow, but eventually he makes it to your mouth. His kiss is light and short, but he keeps going back to peck at your lips, over and over, until you open up and hold him there.

Finally, clear memories of Chicago fill you up. His scent and his touch pull you right back, and you hope he remembers it like you do.

———

It feels like your first date. A quiet car ride, a slow ride up the elevator, an awkward, unsure walk down the hallway to your apartment door. Then walking into your messy living room.

“Are you hungry? I can order something for us,” he says as he’s carefully removing his shoes. “And we can talk while we wait.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. I’ll make some coffee.”

Seungmin doesn’t follow you to the kitchen, like he’s done a few times before. Instead, he sits on the couch, situating himself so he can still see you.

You try not to look at him as you work, but you fail, several times. He smiles every time your eyes meet, but it’s a sad smile. It’s not one you’re used to seeing.

“No small talk,” you tell him as you hand him his coffee. “I’ll lose my mind.”

“No small talk.” He nods.

“Where have you been?” You start, staring down at your mug. “Not physically, I know that already. I mean…in every other way.”

“Uhm—“ Seungmin thinks. His face twists a little, probably in confusion. “Where have I…”

“Mentally,” you can’t take your eyes off of him now. “Emotionally.”

“Oh, okay I understand.” He clears his throat, adjusts himself. “It’s been hard to keep my thoughts organized lately. It’s not just that I’ve been busy with work…I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I’m sorry.”

Seungmin shakes his head, “I could’ve fixed it, I’m sure. If I would’ve just talked about things with you a while ago, I probably would have slept easier.”

“I kept you up?”

“Yes. Well, thinking about you. I do think about you, all the time, even if I haven’t kept in touch. But I’ve been over complicating things, I think.”

“Talk to me now. Please.”

You think you can see his cheeks turning pink. His eyes are wide and shiny, but he’s unsure.

“I know, Seungmin…it is hard. It’s been hard for me, and I feel like it’s been a little more difficult for you. I kept everything to myself all this time, up until yesterday.”

He gives you another questioning look.

“Choonhee forced it out of me.”

He nods, sets his coffee down, and swings his legs up on the couch. Something about him making himself more comfortable puts you at ease. You remember him mentioning before that he felt relaxed being here, alone with you. "I don’t feel any pressure here." You hope he still feels that way.

“Tell me what you told her.”

“She did most of the talking.”

“Then what did Choonhee tell you?”

“That you’re just a guy, and I shouldn’t let you get to me like this.”

Seungmin actually nods at that—but he’s not looking you in the eyes now, so maybe he’s just…thinking about it. Or maybe he’s agreeing. You don’t know where this is going yet.

“I am just a guy, she’s right. I don’t want to be just a guy, though. Not to you.”

“Oh…”

“I thought I knew what was going on when we were together in Chicago, and I thought I knew what I wanted. I’ve been thinking all this time that if this couldn’t be a normal, traditional relationship, you would not be happy, not satisfied. And you’d tell me you weren’t interested in me anymore. I thought you would tell me you couldn’t do it.”

You almost interject; tell him that’s never what you expected of him. You wouldn’t never do that. Why didn’t you say that before? Instead, you used the hypothetical “if you weren’t who you are” question on him. You remain quiet, though, hoping he continues.

“…what I’ve been doing isn’t much better than what I’ve been afraid of. But you’re very smart, and I always knew that.”

You just smile at him, waiting for more.

“That’s why you were so worried when you found out who I was. You know this is much more complicated than that.”

Seungmin goes quiet after that, relaxes against the arm of the couch. You’re on the opposite side, doing the same. You watch each other carefully , but nobody makes a move, and nobody starts to speak.

You wonder if there was something you could have done to avoid all of this drama. Four and a half months of wondering; of being so down you can barely make it to work some days. Both of you have been really bad at this.

“Yes, I know it’s complicated.”

He’s biting his lip. Tapping his foot. It’s almost touching you, and you want to stretch your leg out until it does, but right as you tell your brain to do it, his leg slides back. He sits up and leans forward, falls to his knees, and crawls across the couch.

Before you can squeak his name out, he’s straddling you, arms on either side of your waist. And then the full weight of his body is on you. Seungmin sets his head down gently against your chest and relaxes.

You freeze for a few seconds. You have fallen asleep on this couch with him before, but this feels like much more.

He doesn’t say anything, not even when you set your hand on his head—rake your fingers through his hair, wrap your other arm around his shoulders. He sighs, though.

When it feels like you’re drifting off to sleep, he finally speaks. It’s muffled against your shirt.

“You just want me, right?”

“What?”

“Even if nobody is allowed to know. And we can’t go out in public, and I have to pretend you don’t exist.”

“Seungmin, I know that we can’t have a normal relationship. I just want you…and to know that you want me.” You say the last part under your breath.

“I do.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I promise I’ll be better. And that I won’t be afraid to talk to you, and tell you too much.”

“You can tell me whatever you need to.”

“I don’t usually talk much…to anyone.”

It never occurred to you that he didn’t have someone to talk to when he was feeling down, or having a bad day. A bad week. He’s been bottling everything up, just like you have. Maybe for a very long time.

“You can talk to me about your bad days, Minnie, or when you can’t sleep. And about your good days. I would like to be that person.”

“Am I the reason you had a rough day yesterday? Have you had a lot of those?”

“Yeah, I have had a lot of bad days because I missed you.”

“You can tell me about your bad days, too. Even if they were bad because of me.”

“Don’t worry, I will.”

Seungmin laughs, and it shakes your whole body. “Good.”

☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The next morning is almost normal. Your alarm goes off at its regular time—6:45, and you’re tired, which is also normal. The room is chilly, and it’s so warm under the blankets that getting up is nearly impossible. An ordinary morning. The one thing that makes it different is that Seungmin is there when you open your eyes.

The alarm doesn’t even make him stir, but when you finally turn it off, he groans.

“I’m sorry, go back to sleep.”

“Are you going to work?” He asks, eyes closed, voice raspy with sleep.

“No, not today. I found someone to cover for me.”

He smiles and reaches his arm toward you, and he feels blindly around where he thinks you might be. “Why are you so far away?”

You move closer and grab his arm, “I’m right here. Go back to sleep.”

“I’ll try.”

…

Sleep eventually finds both of you again. When you wake back up a few hours later, he’s still there, breathing deeply, melting into your bed. You need to get up, but you wait a little longer. You really don’t want to wake him right now.

When he eventually wakes up on his own, he’ll feel better.

You close your eyes. And again, you fall asleep.

…

Something warm against your forehead wakes you up for a third time. Your eyes open and all you see is skin; Seungmin’s neck, his shoulder. The collar of his shirt is loose enough that you can see the start of his chest.

You pull him closer and push your face into him. He smells good. He smells like sleep and sweat and whatever leftover cologne is still stuck to him from yesterday.

Part of you still wants to keep your guard up. He’ll be gone soon, and then you’ll have to wait and see if his confidence and trust in you remains, and if he’ll really feel comfortable telling you the things he doesn’t tell anyone else.

“I can start,” you say, face still in his chest. You move up toward his neck and set your lips against his skin.

“Start what?”

“After we were together last, in Chicago, and we didn’t…use a condom. I did get a morning after pill, and I took it.”

He pulls you away so he can look at you.

“My period came really late after that, so I thought it didn’t work. And I was really scared. But I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t tell you because we hadn’t talked very much that week, and you didn’t need that on your mind anyway.”

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that alone.”

“Everything turned out okay.”

“You can talk to me any time you need to, even if I’ve been quiet.”

You nod, and you really want to believe him.

“Too soon for babies.” He whispers, just loud enough for you to hear him. He has a little smirk on his face, but he’s avoiding eye contact and staring at the little bit of space between you.

“You want them?”

“Hm?” Now he makes eye contact, and his ears are slowly turning red. “Uhm…yes, I always have. Do you?”

Having kids isn’t something you’ve thought about much (aside from the scare you had in July), because you haven’t met anyone you would want to have kids with. Well, until now, because looking at Seungmin and the sweet smile on his face is making you want them immediately. But you know that’s not possible for him.

“With the right person, yeah.”

“I’m sure someday I’ll be able to do that. Have the time to be there, for both of them. You and baby. I couldn’t be gone all the time and leave you alone.”

He stops for a second. You wonder if he’s even hearing himself speak.

“…Seungmin?”

“It was my turn to tell you something personal.” He brings his hands up to his face and rubs his cheeks, then his eyes. “Just in case I’m the right person.”

The conversation feels like too much, too soon. But you like it. He’s only been open with you like this once before: on your second date, when he admitted to being worried you’d like his friends more than him. You thought that was silly then, and now…you’re not sure you could like anyone more than Seungmin.

“…and if I’m your right person.”

Seungmin smiles and hides his face in the pillow.

———

As the day goes on, you wonder how long he’ll be here with you. Every time he looks at a message on his phone, you assume that will be his cue to get going—to start saying goodbye. But he’s still here, and he seems content.

It was his idea to stay, and he insisted on making breakfast.

“What do you normally do on your days off?” is what he asked as you sat and ate.

So it’s been a regular day off, aside from the fact that Seungmin is also here with you…eating, cleaning, sorting laundry, watching tv, and eventually, catching up with schoolwork.

He sits down next to you on the couch when you open your binder and pull out a stack of papers. He watches quietly as you shuffle though them, putting the pages in order before you start to look them over properly.

He picks the next one up before you get to it. “How old are your students again?”

“They are eight…a few are nine.”

“I don’t remember my English classes being this complicated when I was…older than them.”

“You should see their math homework.”

“Oh, I was very good at math!”

“Yeah?” You look at him, give him your full attention. “There’s so much I don’t know about you.”

“Not even what’s on the internet?” Seungmin leans back against the couch, and pulls you with him.

“I’ve read a few things. But I’m sure you’re a lot more complicated than your fun facts.”

“I hope so.” He grabs you around the waist, “what were you good at in school?”

“English…” you laugh. “And I did pretty good in my German class, and history.”

“Do you speak German, too?” He’s holding you tight, head resting on your shoulder.

“No, I’ve forgotten almost all of that.”

“Why did you come here, to Korea?

You turn yourself to look at him, disturbing his resting head. But he keeps his arms around you.

“So close to Samseong-Dong?”

“I felt like I needed to start over after I graduated college, and this seemed like the perfect way to do it. I actually almost went to Japan.”

“Why didn’t you? Where did you go to college?”

“Northwestern University. And I missed a deadline. Luckily, I already had applications submitted to a few different programs here and nearby.”

“And you chose here?”

Seungmin’s hands wander throughout the entire conversation, stopping when they reach just below where the hem of your shirt hits.

“They chose me.”

“That’s very lucky.” They slide underneath and up your back, “maybe we were meant to meet each other.”

“I’m not sure I believe in things like that.” You move yourself closer to him, until your face is inches from his.

“I don’t either, really. Fate, and soulmates. I’ve been called a…uhm, I don’t remember the English word. A negative person.”

“A pessimist?”

“Yes. Maybe sometimes I am, but…not always. I can be positive. I just like to be realistic.”

“A pragmatist.” You lean in and kiss the corner of his mouth.

“Mhm, both of those P words. I did get lucky, though.” He pushes forward, gently coaxing you to your back.

“Was it there before?” You ask. He’s hanging over you, studying your face. “Before Chicago, after I asked if you would date me?“

“Was what there? You mean, did I like you?”

“Yes, but…more than that. Or was it spending the night together?”

“It was before that. That’s why I wanted to spend the night with you.”

You nod, trying hard not to beam up at him. But his hands are on your sides, and his fingertips are moving so delicately over you, you can’t help but smile.

“When was it there for you?”

Your heart starts beating a little faster. You have no answer ready for him except the truth.

“When you gave me Pochacco.”

“On our first date? At the coffee shop?”

You throw your hands over your face and nod, “yeah, at the coffee shop.”

“I felt kind of silly giving him to you, I thought you would think it was silly, too.” He pulls your hands away so he can see your face again.

“It wasn’t.”

“So PuppyM wasn’t silly either?”

“No, I love him. And your denim jacket you left, that’s hanging on my bedpost. I love all of your gifts.”

“Oh, I forgot about that jacket!”Seungmin comes down and settles himself against you, face in your neck, hands wondering more.

“You can have it back, if you want.”

“No, you keep it. But I do need something of yours to keep with me.” His hands slide under your shirt and across your stomach. He tickles your side again, then stops when he reaches your hip.

You’re surprised at his restraint.

“I’m sure I have something for you.” You set your hand over his and slide it up his arm. Then back down.

His fingers twitch and push under your shorts. As ready as you were, and as much as you wanted him to make that move, your breath still catches in your throat.

He props himself up with his other arm and looks at you. His fingers touch lightly over your underwear, taking his time, getting himself where he needs to be.

But you’re not taking your time. And it’s Seungmin touching you, so your body is already on fire. You push your hips up and push his hand harder against you.

His fingers slide up and sneak beneath the fabric. He moves slowly, and he’s watching you carefully, as if you might protest.

But of course you don’t. You grip his arm and slide your hand from his bicep down to his wrist, moving with him as his fingers slip inside of you.

“Am I doing okay?” He leans closer and whispers. He doesn’t wait for an answer before pulling out and sliding back over your clit, making you choke on your answer.

You manage a shaky mhm and Seungmin giggles into your ear. His fingers stay put, making soft circles around you, keeping his touch as delicate as possible. Then he takes them off again, and he pushes back inside.

The reach of is fingers is enough to hit just the right spot, and when you jump from the pressure, he does it again and again until he gets a moan out of you.

You lift your hips into his touch and pull him down for a kiss. Your grip on his arm tightens and he eases up, but barely. His mouth is working its way across your neck now, leaving you free to moan.

“Do you do this a lot?” He says as he nibbles across your ear and cheek. When he gets to your lips, he hangs above you and holds your gaze. His thumb slides over your clit again, like he wanted to remind you of what he was talking about.

“Uhh…hmm?” You slide your hand up and grab a handful of his hair. “Yes.” You laugh and knead your fingertips into his scalp—it makes his eyes roll back. He’s in your neck again, savoring his little massage.

“Do you think about me when you do it?”

His question sends another wave of pleasure through you. His fingers slip inside again, pressing hard. His thumb is on your clit, wet and sliding easily and hitting everywhere you need it to.

There’s hot, heavy breathing in your ear, and a sweet whisper, “do you think about me, hm?”

“Every time,” your climax hits fast, and Seungmin knows he’s succeeded by the way you’re pulling at his hair.

He holds himself up just enough to watch you squirm beneath him. His touch softens even more as you start to relax, and when you stop and stare up at him, he comes down and kisses across your forehead and down the side of your face. He lets you catch your breath before moving to your lips.

“Really?” Seungmin blushes and tries to stifle his laugh in your neck.

You nod slowly, “that was…very good.”

“Thank you.”

“Too good, maybe.”

“I did some research.”

“You did not.” But when you think about it for a second, it does seem like something Seungmin would do. “Did you?”

“Just a little. In case I’d get to try it out on you someday.”

———

Seungmin looks carefully across your desk, touching the books stacked there, the loose sheets of composition paper, the notes and pencils. He sits in your chair and opens the drawer—inside are a few notebooks, all used and full. He shuffles things around a little, searching every inch.

Now he gets up and moves to your bookshelf. It’s more of a trinket shelf, though. Seungmin only runs his eyes over this, until he catches sight of a snow globe. He picks that up and shakes it. Inside is the Chicago skyline.

He stares at it for a long moment, then returns it to his spot. His attention turns to you, on the bed.

You just smile at him. He keeps looking around.

The next stop is your bedside table. You sit up when he sits down on the edge of the bed, run your hand down his back. As soon as he opens it, he whispers an ooh, and reaches inside.

“What did you find?” You laugh.

“Me,” he holds up three photocards with his face on them.

You take them from him and fall back on the bed, “you”, and look deeply at paper Seungmin.

“Hey, I’m right here…” he pushes your hand away and bends down to kiss you. “Real me.”

The next thing pulled from the drawer is a journal. He looks it over, but doesn’t open it.

“That’s you, too.”

Seungmin points to it, and his head tilts, “this is me?”

“Yeah, almost every page.”

His face goes from confusion to understanding, and then it falls a little.

“You should add one more page.”

“I will.”

The journal goes back in, and then his fingers close around something small. When he pulls it out, it catches the light and throws a reflection across the room.

“Oh, I haven’t worn this since last time.” You sit up and Seungmin hands you the bracelet. It’s only a tiny gold chain, but at the very end of it is a star charm.

“This.” He says, and he watches as you unclasp it, wrap it around his wrist, and close it again.

☾⋆⁺₊⋆

An hour after Seungmin left your house the last time, he sent you a text that just said “I’m home”. That was a first, and it felt like a good omen. But only time would tell. He never really had a good start with keeping in touch.

But he also said goodnight. And then he said good morning. And sometimes he called just to tell you instead of texting.

Actually, this morning, almost two months later, he called early in the morning, when you were still asleep. You caught his name on the lock screen before you picked up, but you still lacked the energy for anything more than a groggy morning Min.

Luckily, he can make up in enthusiasm what you lack some days.

“I’m sorry, you’re still asleep,” he whispers.

“No, it’s okay. I’m just being lazy. What are you up to this morning?” You also caught sight of the time before answering: 10am, way too late for you to sleep in.

“Catching a flight home, from Thailand. Waiting around.” Now you can hear the sleep still lingering in his voice.

“Oh right. I forgot you were there…I did see some photos. You looked very handsome in your safety glasses.”

“Thank you,” he laughs. “I was calling to…uhm, say good morning, and also to see if you would be home tonight.”

“Minnie, I’m always home.”

“That’s true, but it would still be rude to just show up unannounced.”

“I give you permission to show up unannounced.”

“Can I have a key, too? Oh, that reminds me…uuh, well, actually I’ll just talk to you about it later.”

“Okay, don’t forget. And yes you can have a key.”

———

This is the first time you’re not nervous about Seungmin coming over. Well, not as nervous as you typically would be. You’re still a little on edge—a little worried about how you look and about how your food is going to taste.

He didn’t mention anything about coming over hungry, but you’re taking the initiative anyway. If anything, he’ll have something to take home with him.

A soft knock at the door. You know his soft, steady knock, and you never have any other visitors, so it’s him. But for some reason you stand there stupidly, not moving, not saying anything, because you know it’s really him on the other side of your door.

Finally, after a few seconds, you take a breath. “It’s open.”

The door swings open.

“Hi,” Seungmin closes it quietly, takes off his shoes and looks at you from across the room. “It smells very good in here.”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d eaten so…”

“No, nothing since lunch.” He takes a few long strides toward you. Big blue sweatshirt, matching sweatpants, a big smile. “So I’m very hungry,” he embraces you and squeezes you tight against his chest. “How have you been?” He relaxes, but he doesn’t let you free.

“I’ve been okay...I’ve been good.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t visit around Christmas—oh!” He bends down and kisses you.

He kisses for a long time—long enough that you think you might end up in bed before you even eat dinner. But he slows down, and then releases you.

“Happy new year! A little late.” He comes down again for one more kiss, and then makes his way to the kitchen. “What did you make? Something American? It smells like something American.”

“Yes. It’s very American.”

“Should we eat first, or talk?”

“I’m sure we can manage both.”

———

The two of you stare at each other from across your tiny kitchen table. Seungmin sips his tea. You just watch and wait, because this is his conversation.

“Do you want me to start? Something about you having a key to my apartment?”

“Ah, yeah. Yes, I should have a key, but I was thinking of a different apartment.”

“Oh, like yours? No, you don’t have an apartment. Or do you?” You lean a little closer, “secret apartment?”

“No, no secret apartment,” he laughs. “But I thought it would be nice if you lived closer. Closer to the city, and closer to me.”

“That would be nice, but I’m not sure something closer is in my budget.”

“I know,” Seungmin smiles—there’s always something so clever and knowing about his smile. “I figured you might say that. I could help.”

“You want to help me with rent? Expensive rent. That’s kind of serious.”

“I do! It is serious. I am serious.”

“You are?” You sit back in your chair and study his face. He’s still smiling and nodding at you.

“Yes, I’ve been thinking about it for…almost two months. And I found somewhere I think would fit very well.”

“Closer to you?”

“Much closer. I could walk to you.”

You’re thinking, but you’re not really thinking. The obvious answer to this is yes, even though it’s hard to just come out and say it. The idea of someone else helping with rent, or helping with anything, is foreign to you. “I would like to be closer to you.”

Seungmin looks at his phone, pulls something up on it, and then slides it to you across the table. “How is something like this?”

You trust Seungmin’s taste and judgement, but you still want to look it over thoroughly. Distance, yes, but also the size, the layout. And you do not have enough windows in this apartment. You’d like more windows. If he’s as serious as he looks, it might as well be worth whatever money you’re both going to put into it.

“How about this one?” You pull up a different listing.

He looks it over, “still very close. Oh, two bedrooms. Maybe the extra space would be nice.”

“It is a little more, sorry (Seungmin shakes his head when you say that), but it has a bathtub instead of just a walk-in shower. And it’s own laundry.”

He laughs, “I could do my laundry faster if I bring it with me. And the kitchen is nicer.”

“I miss having a bathtub.” You hand him his phone back. “But are you sure this isn’t too much? I know you said you were serious—“

“I am…I want you to know that I’m very serious. I think this is a good way to show you. And it’s also very practical.”

“You seemed so unsure before. I just want you to be…good. I want both of us to be good.”

“I’m very good.”

“This is a little crazy, isn’t it? All of this.”

“Yes, it is. I’ll call about it tomorrow.”

“No, I can. Let me do that, at least.”

———

“Minnie?”

Mmhm?

You sat on the couch after dinner, and it didn’t take much time before he had you on your back. He lifts your shirt as far as this position will allow, letting his fingers dance over you—making you squirm a little from how soft his touch is.

Forming the words you want to say is much harder than you thought. They’re dancing around in your head; you’re moving them back and forth, but every way it comes together feels like too much or not enough. Maybe right now just isn’t he time.

“What’s wrong?”

You pull your shorts down, open your legs for him, then shake your head. “Nothing.”

Seungmin reaches down and feels you, slips his fingers inside, then slowly pulls them back out. He smiles against your mouth and pushes in again, just to feel how wet you are. “Are we okay here…are you comfortable?” He asks sweetly. His fingers are still inside, moving delicately.

You nod, but suddenly you remember that you are not good, and you’re not ready. “Shit, no we’re not good. We need a condom this time.”

“Oh right, we should be safe. Tell me where they are,” he adjusts his sweatpants and very carefully lifts himself off of you.”

“In my black bag, under my bed.”

You listen as he slides it out and digs around. The contents of that bag are a mystery, but the condoms you bought back in Chicago, both boxes, have to be in there still. You’re not that bad at unpacking, but if it’s something you don’t use, you’re definitely going to forget I’m about it under there forever.

When he comes back in, he has one in each hand.

“I’m….not sure which one is for me.” His voice seems a little dejected. He’s looking down at them as he approaches you.

“Oh Minnie, they were both for you. I bought these a while ago, when I didn’t know which would fit you better.”

“Oh,” he finally makes eyes contact again. His face softens a little. “Sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“It’s okay, come here.” You spread your legs again and wait for him, “I’ll put it on for you.”

He crawls back onto the couch, settles between your legs, and opens both hands, palms up, in front of you.

You take the right one and rip it open. Seungmin looks like his mind is suddenly full. His eyes are big and soft.

“Min, what’s on your mind?”

His hands are already on his sweatpants, pulling them down his hips.

“You are.”

You touch him, slide your fingertips down, and then back up. The condom goes on easily. “Does it feel okay?”

He nods and adjusts, makes himself comfortable, and lifts your legs until he has more room. He pushes in a halfway, then leans over until you’re almost nose to nose.

“Minnie?”

“Hmm?” He sets his forehead against yours.

“There’s only you.”

“Just me?” He pushes his nose into yours, “only me?” Pecks at your lips.

“Just us.”

“Only us.” Seungmin pushes the rest of the way in, waits a moment, then begins to fuck you slowly and deeply, “you’re all mine.” He whispers in your ear as he drags his lips over it.

It takes you a second to pull yourself together. Each thrust sends you upward and knocks the breath out of you, but you manage a nod.

“Tell me,” he quickens his pace. The couch shakes the end table, and you can hear the clatter of things falling to the floor. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.”

It comes out shaky, and it’s not good enough for you. But Seungmin is still smiling. You try again

“I’m yours,” you grab the back of his neck and hold him still, “I only love you.” Your hand grabs hair and pulls—lips close on his before he has a chance to speak.

But he sighs into the kiss. He slows down, and it feels like he’s melting into you more and more with each thrust. What little skin is exposed between the two of you slides together, damp with sweat, and Seungmin kisses every part of you he can get to in the position he’s in.

He tries to get rid of your shirt, but he can’t stop, and he has to stop to make any progress—so you clumsily lift it, and your bra, until you’re free.

His hand slides up your ribs and his fingers graze over you, but for now he just watches how he’s making your body move under him. He seems hypnotized, but eventually he blinks, and then his eyes are fixed on yours again.

The room is quiet—no ambient noise from the tv, no music, nothing. The only sounds are the heavy breaths and soft moans you’re sharing. The condom is slowing him down, keeping him here much longer, and everything feels good in this position; good enough that you’d be satisfied staying like this as long he needs it.

He made you come last time, and now you want to do the same for him.

You lift him off of you until you can see him better.

He looks you in the eyes again, satisfied and smiling. “You feel so good,” he’s back down again, mouth on your chest, kissing down until he can close his lips around your nipple. He licks and works his way back up, stopping at your throat and staying there, his warm breath hitting you. “You love me?”

Your heart jumps. It was already racing, but now you feel it everywhere. In your throat, your chest, your head. You don’t think you’ve ever told anyone that before; not so soon. It’s been a year, but tonight is only the sixth time you’ve seen him and touched him. Everything else has been texts, phone calls, video calls.

It doesn’t matter. You said it because it felt right, and it still feels right.

“Yes.”

Seungmin slows his pace. His exhales turns into a string of soft, dulcet moans. He lifts himself upright and holds your hips as he rolls into you. He comes quietly. You wouldn’t have even realized if you weren’t looking right him.

The satisfied look on his face makes your stomach swirl. You watch Seungmin smile before your eyes close, and you can hear him whisper something to you while you’re coming down from your own high.

He pulls out and carefully brings your legs together.

“What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything, love.” He sits you up next to him and pulls your t-shirt over your head, “I was just…” he pulls you close, “nothing, it’s not important right now.”

“Will you stay here tonight?”

“Yes, I’ll stay.”

———

It’s been a long six weeks. You’re a little stressed out, but you’ve been holding yourself together very well, you think.

This apartment has been your only home for more than three years, so packing your things up and preparing to leave has been a little bit emotional. Almost everything is out of here and all that’s left are a few things you’re taking along on the last car ride.

Before this, everything was moving in slow motion and it was killing you. Now, it won’t slow down. You’re happy, and you’re grateful for everything that Seungmin has done for you…and it’s still sometimes hard to believe he’s doing it all just for you. But it’s so much all at once.

He told you he would stay tonight—your first night there. You haven’t received a text telling you otherwise, so you’re hoping he will be there when you arrive. You do have to remember that you’ll be there alone most of the time, though.

Some things will remain the same.

———

The elevator ride up is long, and you think back to you and Seungmin—your first date, bringing him home with you to your 5th floor apartment, thirty minutes out of the way, just to have him to yourself.

That was probably a good indication that he liked you. You just didn't realize it at the time.

You finally stop at the 17th floor.

The original apartment you looked at was unavailable when you called the next morning, so Seungmin insisted on taking everything into his own hands while you were at work. He knew what you were looking for, but he went overboard.

This apartment has the windows, the bathtub, and laundry room, but it also has double the space—and three bedrooms. When you asked what you were supposed to do with all of the extra room, Seungmin shrugged and said we’ll figure something out.

You don’t even own enough to fill up half of it. Everything that required any sort of muscle; the bed, the living room furniture, it all stayed behind. Most of the things in this apartment are new, or they will be new.

Before you have a chance to explore any further than the kitchen, you hear a very faint, soft knock on the door. You know it’s him and you run to open it, but he punches in a code on the doorknob, turns it, and peeks in before you get there.

“I tried to beat you here.” He smiles.

“You almost did.“

He closes the space between you and pulls you into a hug. “How was your day? Did the movers get everything here?”

“It was alright, and…I think so, but I haven’t gotten any further than this.”

“Just alright? I know it’s been a lot lately.”

“I’m better now that I’m here, and you’re here.” You take his face in your hands and squeeze his cheeks, “let me see, smile.”

Seungmin smiles widely and dramatically, and then bends down to kiss you. “How do I look?”

You pull him back for another one, “still handsome.”

He picks up the bags he walked in with and sets them on the kitchen chair. “I brought us dinner, and a few things to make you feel more at home.” Seungmin is pulling the food out of the bag, piece by piece. “So you didn’t see the bedroom yet?”

“Not yet, why?”

He shakes his head and smiles, “we’ll see it later.”

“What did you bring me?”

“Oh, let’s see!” He starts digging in the other bag.

You watch as he carefully places an assortment of things along side the food. There’s a candle, two candles, a small picture frame, but you can’t see the photo from where you’re standing. A stuffed dog. Another stuffed dog. One of them is Pochacco, the other is a mystery, but he does look familiar.

“That’s all for now but I do have more stuff to bring.”

“Well, we have plenty of space to fill.”

He beams at you, grabs one of the stuffed dogs, and pulls you against him. “This wasn’t mine, but I have one just like it.”

“I like him, he looks like you.”

Seungmin laughs and looks at Daengmo, “yes, he kind of does.”

———

When the sun goes down, and you’re both full and relaxing, you begin to feel even more nostalgic for the conversations you had and the memories you made with him at your old place, on your old couch. You have to work on new memories now.

He’s facing you on the new couch, eyes closed, slow, steady breaths. The flicker of the tv is hitting his face, making his cheek and the soft brown of his hair glow.

Very slowly, you reach your foot out and touch his.

Seungmin’s eyes open, and he gives you a sleepy smile, “how was dinner?”

“Good.” You sit up and move closer to him, “we should go to bed while you’re still sleepy.”

He groans and shrugs his shoulders.

“We gotta go see the bedroom, remember?” You grab his hand and pull a little, and he immediately gives in.

The bedroom is warm and cozy, like it’s already been lived in. You know Seungmin came in at some point and made it this way; the curtains are pulled, the soft amber lights are clicked on, and one of the candles he brought is lit on the bedside table. Both of the stuffed dogs he brought, and your PuppyM, are already laying on top of the pillows.

The bed is made, but not too made. The blankets are loose and fluffed up, ready to crawl into.

“How does it look?” He sounds a little more awake now.

“It looks perfect, come on.”

He shakes his head, “If we don’t brush our teeth now, we will never get back up to do it.” He smiles and kisses you softly.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

———

The lights are off, the candle is out. Seungmin is facing you in bed.

“Are you awake? Did you lose your sleepy?”

“A little.”

He scoots closer until his arm can drape over you. The bedroom is bigger, and the bed is bigger, too. You’re sharing one side just to be close to each other.

“It will come back soon.”

You set your forehead against his chest and feel it move steadily with each breath. It's quiet for a long time, and now sleep is really escaping you. You should be able to relax like this; you’ve shared a bed with him a few times before, and you haven’t slept as well since. And you’re tired—too tired. Maybe too exhausted for sleep.

You wonder if he’s awake, or if he’s quiet because he thinks you’ve finally drifted off.

You run your hand gently over his arm, waiting for a reaction. At first, he doesn’t make a move or a sound, but when you slide your hand back up, he moves his leg against yours.

“Can’t sleep?” He whispers

“Did I wake you?”

“You didn’t.”

“Then no, I can’t sleep.” You prop yourself up on one arm and look down at him. It’s dark, but you can just make out the details of his face.

He flips onto his back and pulls the covers away. “Are you uncomfortable?” Seungmin asks and places his hand on your cheek. He’s warm, his eyes are warm. His mouth parts slowly and turns into a smile. It’s a tired smile. “New bed.”

“New everything.”

“Except for me.”

Your hand closes around his, then you turn your head to place a kiss on the inside of his wrist. “Thank you for being here. I know you’re on a tight schedule.”

Seungmin pulls you down on top of him. His face is in your neck, kissing playfully and lazily, but the way his hands are exploring you is anything but lazy.

“You’re cold,” he stops, wraps his arms around your waist, and holds you there. “You need to be warmed up.”

You get your hands underneath his shirt, “you’re warm enough for both of us.”

“I can share.”

“Can I ask you something stupid?”

“Yes, I would love that,” he laughs softly and disappears in your neck again.

The stupid question bounces around in your head. His warm lips on you are starting to make your head fuzzy, and you wonder if you should just forget it. But now he’ll get it out of you somehow.

“Will you sing for me?”

He pulls back to look at you. Seungmin’s face lights up. It could light up the entire room. “You want me to sing for you?” If he was sleepy at all before, he’s not now. You’ve managed to wake him the rest of the way with a simple, stupid, request. But it wasn’t stupid at all.

“I always have, it just never seemed like a good time.”

“Right now? Should I sing now? Maybe it’s too quiet, and the walls might not be very thick.”

“In the morning?”

He nods, “yes, I’ll sing for you in the morning. What should I sing?”

“Surprise me.”

“We talked about singing together before, remember?”

“I remember,” you wrap around him and pull the covers back up in an attempt to get him sleepy again. “But I’d rather just hear you.”

☾⋆⁺₊⋆

[bonny-kookoo]

Can we get a Sweet Tooth Drabble of Jimin realising mc is feeling neglected by him (ie, him not brushing her tail at night etc) 🙏

"Its really soft.." jimin mumbles as he runs a hand over your tail- your hybrid feature carefully moving, slipping through his fingers as it escapes his grasp. You hum a reply, yawning.

"Yeah, Jungkookie bought some care spray for it I think.." you say, hugging the by now familiar orange lion pillow on the couch while your eyes keep the window in focus, waiting. The dog hybrid isn't home yet, still at work- and he doesn't know that you wait every day for his return, never admitting how your tail would always snap up high as soon as you'd spot him entering the front of the house next to yours.

It's now that Jimin realizes that it's been a while since you've actually done anything together. He's not brushed your tail, and yet it's clean, untangled and soft, a glossy shimmer on the fur too. He's also not helped clean your rather sensitive ears in a while, and yet they're also clearly taken care of.

When did he stop doing that?

When did Jungkook take over?

Shouldn't he be happy about this?

Why isnt he?

He now has all the time and freedom to focus on his relationship, while not having to worry about you. You're not neglected, you seem fairly happy with the situation now, and you don't hate him either. He's clearly still your friend and you still seek him out for comfort- only now, you really only do that if Jungkook isn't there.

It's like he's suddenly second in line, and Jimin doesn't really think he likes that very much.

It's selfish, and he knows that- he shouldn't expect you to always just wait for him and cling to his every word like you did before. He should be happy that you're trying to become independent now, that you seemingly found someone you could even romantically love- and yet he can't help the jealousy growing inside him.

Maybe Yoongi feels the same? If he does, he makes it way less obvious than Jimin himself.

But there's nothing he can do to fix this- except start to accept that things are changing not only for you, but for him as well.

And it's painfully obvious, especially when you suddenly sit up, staring out the window with your tail held high-

While outside, next door, Jungkook unlocks the front door, having come home from work, ready to claim all your love and attention away from Jimin again.

Leaving him behind, to wait until you look at him again.

[moonchildstyles]

hyssop

rosemary part two: y/n made harry want to try, even if he didn't always believe he deserved the chance

wordcount: 11.5k+

—————

The spring-inspired logo of The Flour Pot gleamed in the Sunday morning sunshine, the front window crystal clear and streak free. With this week's trip being later in the morning after Harry managed to sleep some, the bakery wasn't quite as busy as he'd seen it in the past. He released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. 

While many of those initial anxieties he'd felt that first time he dared even stepping onto the sidewalk had melted away like butter in a croissant, there was still a part of him that braced himself when approaching those front doors. The butterflies were an enemy he had control over currently, but they always got bold whenever he was too close to (Y/N). He still kept his hands clenched in his pockets. 

Peering through the glass doors, he saw only a pair of patrons sitting at one of the tables, a set of pastries between them with only one fork to share. Both of the women looked content sharing those bites. Slipping inside, the bakery lacked the kind of noise he'd begun to associate with the space. The queue to the front register was only two people long. 

But, (Y/N) wasn't there.

The same dark-haired girl he'd seen the last time he traveled through was there along with the boy darting through the pastry case, but there was no bouncing bow or arms laden with heaps of bread. There was a part of him that deflated at that. He knew it was a bit later in the morning than his previous visits, but he figured that she'd still be here. He was only a couple of hours late. 

Hands stuffed in his pockets, Harry felt extremely out of place in the shop. Without (Y/N) there, there wasn't much of a reason for him to be there—even if the pastries were delicious. Toeing at the ground, he wanted to inch towards the exit, leave before anyone could really notice, but it wasn't busy enough to make an exit without feeling eyes on him.

Before he had a chance to make any plan, dark brown eyes of the attendant behind the register landed on him. She brightened at the sight, flicking her attention back and forth between him and the customer she was helping at the desk. She recognized him. 

Just as the next client stepped up to order, the other waiting off to the side for their order, Harry saw her ask for a moment. She told the customer that she would be right with him, she just needed to take care of something super quick.

With that, her long ponytail brushing her back, she disappeared through the cafe doors. True to her word, she was back in a moment, a smile shot in Harry's direction. She was right back to helping her client, apologizing for the delay. 

It was a beat later that (Y/N) emerged. 

Her cheeks were stretched into a smile, and eyes bright as she spotted him almost immediately. Her plastic gloves were quickly stripped from her hands as she approached him, her hair lacking a bow in favor of a sparkling clip. 

"Harry!" she beamed, looping around the counter to meet him where he stood in the middle of the shop. 

Harry swallowed down the smile that wanted to take over his features. No one had been excited to see him in years. 

"Hi, (Y/N)." His heart skipped a beat when her smile grew that much larger at his greeting. 

He followed her lead as she stepped off to the side, out of the way of anyone should the line grow and other patrons enter. She stood with her hip popped, discarded gloves bunched between her hands. "Did you just get off work?" 

Shaking his head, he allowed his gaze to take a trip down her form. Flour spotted her top, soft leggings conforming to the shape of her legs and well-worn shoes on her feet. "No, I went home and slept a little before coming in." 

(He slept for a little over an hour, but that was better than nothing). 

"When did you get off?" she asked, shifting her weight on her feet. 

Pulling one of his hands from his pocket, he brushed the tip of his nose with his knuckle. "I usually get off around four or six depending on what time 'm schedule to go in." 

"In the morning?" she blanched, stretching her neck with a furrow in her brow. 

Harry hummed a confirmation. 

"Oh," she sounded, her eyes wide, "I knew you worked late shifts, but I guess I never thought you worked all night. I don't know how you do it; I hate getting up before the sun is up, I don't think I could work like that." 

Shrugging, Harry brought his hand up and repeated the brush against his nose to conceal his mouth. The tiniest of curls touched the corner of his mouth, the closest thing to a smile he'd given to another in a long while. The bubbliest non-morning person he'd ever met, he thought. 

"Y'get used to it."

"Well, I'm happy you could come in today because I have some stuff for you." Her voice was something like a song, lilting around her words as she rocked on her heels. 

Harry wasn't sure if it was his lungs or his heart that squeezed at the sound of that. "Yeah?" 

"Mhmm," she hummed, "Go sit down and I'll go get everything. I'll take my break right now too so we can talk a little." 

Before he could say much else, she was scooting back to the kitchen, her bound back hair being the last thing he saw before the cafe doors closed behind her. From the corner of his eye, he saw the dark-haired cashier glance at him, a short smile on her lips as she continued to wipe down the counters. 

Harry took a spot towards the back, a few places away behind the couple who paid no other patrons any mind. His restless hands did what they do best as he began to pick at his cuticles, the beds still raw from the last time he plucked at the frayed skin.

By the time (Y/N) was strolling out of the kitchen, the waiting patrons had exited, leaving only he and the other couple filling the lobby. The dark-haired girl behind the desk had huddled into the corner shielded by the pastry case, her phone in her hands as she took advantage of the lull in clientele. (Y/N) had a ramekin with a puffy pastry she was carefully holding in one hand while the other had a plain, square Tupperware case. 

She hopped on the high stool in front of him, that table bracing her weight as she carefully shifted with her gifts. With the duo laid out in front of him, a spoon balanced on the top of the Tupperware, she gave him a giddy smile. 

"I know it's closer to lunch than breakfast at this point, but I did make you one of those soufflés I was telling you about." As she spoke, she pushed the ramekin towards him, the lightweight top of the soufflé puffed and golden brown. "I also made focaccia last night, and saved you a square if you wanted to try." 

"Focaccia?" he posed, grabbing the spoon from her outstretched hand. 

"It's a kind of bread," she laughed, the sound light and airy, "You can make it a whole bunch of different ways, but last night I made it with black pepper, basil, and a little bit of parmesan. Have you ever tried it?" 

"Maybe?" he shrugged. (There was a period of time back when his sister was distracted with her boyfriend a lot, that his mother didn't know what to do with herself and decided to try her hand at bread making. He could never and would never tell her, but she wasn't very good, so there was a high chance that he'd tried a version of whatever bread (Y/N) was talking about, just a very bad version that he didn't give more than a nibble to). 

"Try the soufflé first while it's still warm from the oven, and then I'll show you the bread," (Y/N) decided.

While there was something a bit awkward knowing that (Y/N) was going to watch him eat and wait for a reaction to something she made with him in mind, there was no universe in which Harry was going to say no to homemade food. After being accustomed to frozen meals and canned foods, things like this with real flavor were things Harry cherished more than what was probably normal. 

He kept his eyes on his hands as he poked the spoon through the eggy top layer of the treat, strings of cheese clinging to the utensil as he scooped out a bite. A plume of fragrant steam lifted through the air, holding notes of rosemary and thyme with the bite of a salty cheese. Popping it in his mouth, Harry felt that pressure to give her a good reaction disappearing. He wouldn't have to make anything up when he swallowed it down, the praise was going to come naturally. 

The bite was custardy and warm, while being entirely light and airy. Hints of the different cheeses were sprinkled throughout, still warm and melty from the steam that had collected in the middle of the pastry. Ribbons of spinach added a bitter bite that cut through the cheese and egg, adding to the fresh herbs that were sprinkled across the top of (Y/N)'s creation. It was perfect—better than the scone even, but Harry had a feeling that anything he ate of her's, he would decide it was better than the last. 

As much as he wanted to tell her how well she did, he couldn't wait that long to take another bite. Maybe he was a bit frantic, eager to try another shoveled bite, but the only reason Harry figured as much was because of the huffed laugh that (Y/N) let out. He could still feel her eyes on him, though now he only felt the warmth, not the weight. 

"(Y/N)," he started after finally pulling the spoon away from the treat, "This is... I didn't think y'could make anything better than the scone, but this is amazing. Really." He hoped she understood how much he meant what he was saying, even if he held onto his stoic mask. 

The booming smile that took over her features had something close to pride sitting in the back of Harry's chest. He liked knowing that he could put a smile like that on her face, even if there was a valid argument he could make stating he didn't deserve it. 

"I'm so happy you like it!" Her voice bubbled bright and giddy as she spoke. "They're one of my favorite things to make, even if they're a little hard to deal with sometimes. If you ever want one and it's not Friday, just let me know before you come in and I can put one aside for you." 

Having been unable to stop himself from taking another bite, Harry had to rush to swallow it down by the time she stopped speaking. He nodded to her, taking down the eggy, cheesy, salty bite in a heady swallow. "Thank you," he told her again, "That's really nice, (Y/N)." 

He didn't know how, but her bright smile seemed to grow wider as she watched him take another heaping bite. Her cheek was smushed against the palm of her hand she had splayed over the side of her face, her elbow propped onto the table. 

"You don't have to finish it if you don't want, though. I know it's pretty heavy, and we still have the bread I wanted to share with you," she said, though she didn't make any attempt to stop him when he shook his head. 

"I'll finish it," he told her bluntly, a little too invested in the soufflé to care about the huffed laugh she let out at his reaction. A beat passed while she tried to hide how happy she was to see him scarf down her food before Harry began to savor the bites once he made it to the bottom of the cup. "How much do I owe you?" he asked, having almost forgot about the price of the treat. 

A knit pinched her brows together though her eyes remained bright. "What do you mean?" 

"For this." His own expression mimicked hers with his brows drawing together in the middle. 

"Oh," she sounded, the word coming out on a breath, "Don't worry about it. I got it covered." 

That had him pausing on the last couple of bites left of the soufflé. "No. How much do I owe you?" 

Something stubborn had her eyes hardened when she looked at him across the small table. "You're not paying for this, Harry. It was a gift from me, don't worry." 

"'M not taking free food from you, (Y/N). That's not fair after all the work y'did and everything," he argued. 

"You are," she countered, a surprisingly firm edge to her voice, "I don't care. I wanted to do this for you, so I think it's perfectly fair. Now finish it so we can have some of the bread before I have to get back to work." 

"(Y/N)..."

She didn't let him get very far before he was cut off, "Harry." 

As much as he knew she was trying to tell him that he would be in trouble with her if he pushed the issue further, he liked seeing her get a little stern. It was cute seeing her go from the chirping, bubbly tone she used almost exclusively to putting her foot down over something so trivial. He thought she looked rather pretty like this. 

He decided, looking at her trying to be stern in her Flour Pot uniform and shimmering nails, that he'd make it up to her somehow, this free breakfast. 

Looking all too smug when he didn't argue back, (Y/N) brightened up when she saw him take the last bite. 

"Thank you again, (Y/N)," he told her, wiping his face with one of the napkins in the holder on the table.

"Of course, Harry," she beamed at him, practically bouncing in her spot, "I'm just happy you liked it. I was getting nervous because I think I talked it up a little, so I didn't want to disappoint you." 

He wanted to tell her that he was almost completely sure that there wasn't any way she could disappoint him. He kept his mouth shut. 

She pushed the Tupperware towards him, the lip of the lid grasped between her fingers. "Do you think you still have room to try?" 

Peeling back the lid, a square of dimpled bread was revealed to him. Basil leaves were pressed into the surface of the bread, crisped and preserved under a layer of crusty cheese. Flakes of black pepper could be seen throughout the dough and sprinkled over the top. The bread perfumed the air with spicy black pepper notes and the warmth of the cheese and basil. A small section of the container was cupped off, holding a creamy dip, tinted a golden yellow. 

"I definitely have some room," he decided, his eyes growing to the size of his stomach with all the food being offered to him.

Fresh bread and a warm breakfast all in one day. She was spoiling him. 

"Is it okay if I have a little with you? I made sure there would be enough for the both of us if you're okay with sharing." 

"'S your food, 'course I don't mind," he told her, his lips turning into a frown. She was sharing with him, not the other way around. 

Harry waited for her to take her first bite, fingers plucking off a corner with a basil leaf imprinted into the top. The bread was light and airy when he took his turn, chewy and soft when he pinched it between his fingers. He watched as she dipped into the condiment she had told him was a garlic aioli. One of her favorites; both to make and eat.

Just as he went to take his first dip into the sauce, (Y/N) had the same idea. Their fingers bumped, (Y/N) pulling back immediately with a soft sound exiting her lips. He hadn't realized he was holding his breath until his lungs began to ache. 

"Sorry," he said first, jerking his chin, "You first." 

(Y/N) hesitated for only a second, her eyes on him before she blinked in a flutter of long lashes. "Thanks," she chirped out, recovering as she dipped her next bite into the aioli. 

When it was Harry's turn, he almost felt bad to be eating so much of her food when it should be celebrated from the rooftops for everyone to see and try. The crust on top was warm and crunchy, salty with the help of the parmesan she had spread across, while the middle was light and chewy. A bite was given to each taste with the help of the black pepper.

In an unsurprising turn of events, Harry wanted to say this was his favorite thing she'd ever made before. 

"This might be my favorite," Harry settled on, waiting his turn before he plucked off another bite, the warm oil drizzled atop the bread shimmering on his fingers. "I know I keep saying it, but this is really amazing (Y/N). It's been a really long time since I've had anything like this, but you're really amazing at this." 

He knew he was rambling, a habit he wasn't familiar with as his tongue fumbled around the words before he had a chance to stop them. He only managed to quit when he shoved another bite of the focaccia into his mouth, the bread all but melting over his tongue. 

Her smile was ever-present as she spoke, "Thank you. I haven't been making bread like this for very long, on my own at home and all. I'm not super great at it yet, but it's been really fun and I think I'm getting better. It's more fun than the baguettes and sourdoughs I make here, I think. I get to make it however I want." 

"You're very talented, (Y/N)." The compliment felt lame falling from his lips but it was the best he could do before he started going off again, possibly telling her how amazing she was once more.

She chirped her gratitude out, all but glowing under his praise. He liked knowing he could make her feel like that, give her the sunshine look that warmed her features. 

The bread between them slowly dwindled to small chunks the longer they sat across from one another. (Y/N) told him more about the bakery and the people she worked with, what she liked making at home and what she preferred to keep at work. She didn't make him talk for more than a few hums here and there, allowing him to soak in her presence and settle into her without worrying about what he could share with her and what would be better to keep to himself. 

The longer they sat, more and more patrons flitted into the shop. It started as a trickle, the groups small enough to be attended to before another would step up. The line didn't reach longer than a pair of people. Until the lunch rush came in. 

(Y/N) cut herself off when a large group made their way in. Her eyes scanned the growing line and the pastry case that was getting picked through with every person that placed their order. 

"I should probably get back to work. I definitely took longer than fifteen minutes with you," she said, looking more than a little reluctant to hop off her stool, "But you can stay as long as you want, eat however much you want." Just as she turned on her heel, a goodbye on her lips and wave on her fingers, he saw her stop in her tracks, turning back to face him. "Thank you for coming in, by the way. My days are always a little nicer when I get to see you." 

Harry's hand clenched around the napkin he had been using to wipe his fingers and clean his face, the paper crumbling in his grip. His throat was dry, tongue too big for his mouth as he took in what she saw. How was he supposed to respond to something like that, when he almost wondered if he knew any words at all? Those butterflies were sabotaging him. 

Even with Harry's lack of response, (Y/N) didn't look perturbed at all. She gave him that glowing smile once more—bright but only for him. "I'll see you later?" 

"Y-Yeah," he stuttered out, a disjointed nod accompanying the word. 

That was all she needed to hear before she was turning back to the kitchen. She waved at him, tossing that smile over her shoulder. "Bye, Harry." 

"Bye, (Y/N)." 

By the time Harry felt as though he needed to leave, he felt relaxed enough he could sleep some of the day away. He doubted a nightmare could enter his brain after a moment like this—the vision of (Y/N) in his brain, scented with soft bread and pastries made with only him in mind. 

—————

It was a habit now for Harry to park in the same spot by the bakery every time he went into town. Even if he had no intention of sneaking inside and getting a glimpse of a fluttering bow and a whiff of rosemary, he always took his place across the street from The Flour Pot. The fresh air and the extra steps were good for him, anyway.

Getting out of his car, library books at his side, he couldn't help but to glance at the building. He cast a lingering look through the glass, eyes scanning through the pane in hopes of seeing a familiar face. It was an old instinct coming to the surface after so long of burying it underneath his hopes of a different life; he used to do the same, checking on his mother and sister to ensure they were safe and none of his mistakes had found them. The same habit was beginning to form for (Y/N). 

Through the window pane, he saw her standing behind the pastry case, her profile to him as she spoke to the dark-haired girl he now knew to be her friend Sabrina. (Y/N) gesticulated as she talked, hands held out with her fingers spread out, emphasizing whatever story she was telling that had Sabrina holding back her laugh behind her own hand. 

Harry had to drop his gaze, stitching his gaze to his feet as he walked to keep the smile from creeping onto his features. 

Heading towards the library, Harry created a rhythm as he counted the cracks in the sidewalk with loose pieces of pavement kicking up with every step. It was on the sixteenth crack that he heard his name being called out behind him. 

He knew that voice. 

The plastic covering on his library book crackled when he tightened his grip on the spine. Looking over his shoulder, there was that smiling face framed by those stray strands of hair that escaped her ribboned bun. She beamed at him where she stood across the intersection from him, the dark pavement separating them. 

"Wait up!" she called, looking both ways before scampering over the painted crosswalk to meet him. She slowed to a stop in front of him, the straps of her bag sliding off her shoulder. "Hi," she chirped out.

"Hi," he answered, his voice sounding decidedly less excitable than her own even if his chest was thumping, 

"How are you?" she asked, "Today's your day off, right?" 

"Yeah," he mumbled out, nodding his head, "I jus' woke up, so 's going alright so far." 

"Long night last night?" she continued, getting comfortable in the conversation even if it was nothing more than small talk. 

Harry recalled the twitch that had started in his eye now that Theo and the others had started trying to chat with him during the overnight shifts since Harry had accidentally opened the floodgates with his questions about (Y/N). "A little bit," he settled on, holding back a sigh, "But 's alright. How about you?" 

Casting her gaze behind her to the bakery she'd just run out of, she only shrugged before looking back at him. "I don't like doing mids so they're always long, but I'm done for the day at least," she smiled at him, glancing at the book at his side, "Are you going to the library?" 

Shifting his weight on his feet, Harry felt a little more exposed than he felt comfortable with. He always felt much more at ease when (Y/N) spoke of herself or he was able center questions around her. 

Swallowing, Harry nodded.

(Y/N) perked up at his answer, almost bouncing in her spot. "I didn't know you went to the library and everything," she started, "I just finished at the bakery for the day, would it be alright if I tagged along?" 

Another invitation, but one that he was to extend to her. 

It felt personal in an odd way to invite her to accompany him, to see him pick out different novels and how he interacted with people that aren't her. The universe around them seemed to only extend to The Flour Pot and the grocery store—the only places where he was allowed to exist around her. 

But, if this was their universe, then she was the center star. She beamed up at him, the kind of sun a creature like him would warm himself under, trailing pathetically behind. How he is supposed to say no to that? 

"Sure," he mumbled out, "A-Are y'sure y'don't want to go home?" If it were him, after a long shift, he wouldn't even entertain the idea of doing anything other than heading home right away. 

"I have too much energy to go home," she bubbled, inching closer to him to match his route to the library, "I had coffee this morning, so I'm all over the place. I'm worried about what I would do to my living room if I go home right now; I'd probably rearrange everything and decide to redecorate with money I don't have." 

Dropping his gaze to his feet, Harry hid the twitch that tugged at the corner of his lips. 

He fell into step beside her, slowing his paces as they trekked down the sidewalk to the library on the corner. She tugged on the strap of her bag, the lengths seemingly constantly falling from her shoulder. 

"When did you get home last night?" (Y/N) asked, her voice floating over the sound of the cracked concrete under their feet.

Harry shrugged, shifting his books into the opposite hand leaving the one closest to her swinging at his side. "I stayed a little late and made it home by four." 

(Y/N) shook her head, fixing the strap of her bag once more. "I'm starting to think you're a vampire, Harry," she chided, "I don't know how you do it. I like to stay up late and everything too, but I only like the nighttime because I have nothing I need to do." 

"You get used to it," he told her. Harry could feel his features softening at her bubbly remarks. 

"Sure," she said, lilting her voice into a tease, "Anyway, what are we looking for at the library today?" 

Bringing his hand up to brush a knuckle under the tip of his nose, Harry felt that exposure again. "Jus' returning these, and probably check out a few more." 

"What are your favorite kinds of books?" (Y/N) bounced in her steps beside him, glancing up at him with that sunshine face. "I didn't know you liked to read so much." 

Just as Harry brought in a heavy breath through his nose, the steps to the library doors were in front of them. The proverbial bell that save him, he decided. Instead of giving her any kind of answers he was able to grab the stainless steel door handle and pull it open. "After you," he murmured to (Y/N).

The laugh that fell from her lips was enough to keep his chest from constricting so tightly. He hadn't even meant to make her laugh, but he'd take it whenever she was willing to give it. 

(Y/N) waited just inside for him, only stepping towards the front desk when Harry was beside her. Ms. Klarke looked at them over the green frames of her glasses, brows rising with her eyes widening for only a moment before she fell back into that same pleasant expression she always greeted Harry with. 

"Hello, Mr. Styles," she started, something in her eyes flashing before she moved onto his companion, "and Ms. (Y/N)." 

"Hi, Ms. Klarke," (Y/N) chirped. 

Harry felt out of place for a moment, listening to them speak to each other with the kind of familiarity he hadn't been invited into for years now. He only offered a small wave to the librarian in greeting, "Hi." 

"How can I help you two today?"

(Y/N) looked to him immediately. Harry's hand started sweating around the plastic covering of his borrowed book. "Jus' here to return these and get something new," he mumbled once he reached the wooden desk. 

"Already?" Ms. Klarke asked, "I'm going to run out of books for you soon, if you keep this up." She swiped his books off the counter, tapping away at her computer before swiping them under the scanner. "Lucky for you, though," she continued, "I did get some new ones I put out yesterday on your shelves if you wanted to look there first." 

"Thank you," Harry said, feeling shy now that he had someone at his side. He hadn't had anyone there to run errands with in years. 

"By the way," (Y/N) piped up, her eyes on the librarian, "We're bringing back some of those special croissants at the bakery, Ms. Klarke. This Sunday we'll have some of the currant ones and the fig sandwich ones, if you want to come by." 

Ms. Klarke's expression brightened like Harry had never seen before, a hand landing on her hip as she looked at (Y/N). "Thank you, dear! That's so exciting, thank you for letting me know." 

"Of course," (Y/N) beamed, offering up extra information to Ms. Klarke while Harry kept his eyes on the grains of the wooden desk. 

He felt like a potted plant, standing in the middle of the interaction. At least this was saving him time before (Y/N) would follow him into the shelves and watch as he picked out new books to try. 

Soon enough, the conversation ended with Ms. Klarke prompting them to look around, (Y/N) looked to Harry to lead the way. 

"Where to first?" Her gaze dropped down the opposing wings of the library, each end marked with flags showing off different genres. 

The shelves were packed with books, some visibly old with cracked spines and barcodes that had been replaced more than once, while others were vibrantly bright with fresh packaging. Spaces were left here and there for new arrivals to make a home, but it seemed like a place like this wouldn't ever run out of space no matter how many volumes were shoved into the empty spaces. 

"This way," he said, shoving his now empty hand into his pocket. 

Harry trailed through the shelves, not even bothering to look up at the markers as he went. He knew where he was going, even if he took slow steps as if contemplating where to go next.

The mystery section was the last one to amble through before reaching Harry's destination. The dark spines with words like murder and cold case. He didn't bother to look too close at the editions. Mystery wasn't a genre he enjoyed anymore, not since many of the subjects became the things he was trying to run from not escape into. 

Bypassing the space, Harry led them to the shelves just an aisle over. The romance section. 

Among the stacks were the stereotypical shirtless covers with overtly sexual titles, the kind of books that would have been on the roster of a women's wine and book club. Interspersed through were the bright covers Harry was more familiar with, blocky titles with drawn covers and bestselling authors. 

He could hear (Y/N)'s footsteps behind him, following him into the section he took his time getting to. The pat of her feet stopped just beside him. 

"You like romance books?" 

Swallowing, Harry feigned an attempt to get a closer look at a book as he crouched down. He didn't want to see her face if she had any other thoughts about his selection. "It's easy to read," he told her, eyeing a volume with gold lettering over a dark blue cover, constellations decorating the binding, "Happy endings and all that." 

"That's why I like them, too," she said after a beat, her voice soft to match the ambiance of the library, "There's always so much going on, it's nice to read something happy and soft instead of focusing on all the bad." 

An invisible pressure that had been pressing on his chest waned at her words. While there wasn't much opportunity to share his preferred book genre with others, Harry hadn't ever wanted to. He always figured it was a little embarrassing to admit to reading kissing books. Of course (Y/N) wouldn't have any kind of problem with it, though. He should have figured. 

The static of her presence shifted as she began her own perusal of the shelves. A beat of silence settled between the two of them, only the whisper of another patron heard down the aisle. 

Swallowing, Harry felt his heartbeat in his chest. "I also like to read fantasy stuff sometimes," he told her, feeling all too nervous to be sharing something so trivial about himself. 

Her response came in the form of a small hum, "Really? What kind do you like?" 

Distracting his restless hands, Harry plucked the blue book from the shelf, the plastic covering crackling under his fingers. "Kind of like Dracula and those kinds of things," he mumbled, pretending as if he didn't feel her eyes on him, "They're hard to read sometimes, jus' because the language is hard to understand, but I think they're pretty interesting." 

"I don't know if I could read any of those monster books, honestly," she said, huffing out a laugh, "I think I would give myself nightmares if I read them after dark, but they do sound really interesting. I want to know if it's still as scary now as it was back then." 

The thought of (Y/N), perky and bright as she was, sitting down with a book like Dracula or one of the other great gothic horrors, had Harry almost breaking into a smile while looking at the book in his hand. He'd be interested to see her reaction to something that dark. 

A process Harry was far too familiar with started then: the seemingly endless browsing of library shelves. Even after picking out the trio of books that would keep him busy for the week, he didn't find any kind of rush to head out immediately after. (Y/N) meandered with him, finding her own interesting reads before restocking them on the shelf. Harry could hear her mumbling something about needing to get a library card. 

"So this is what you do on your days off?" she asked once they reconvened around a shelf of autobiographies. 

Nodding, Harry had his eyes forward as he spoke. "Usually. I visit you, the library, and sleep. Nothing exciting." 

"That sounds so nice, though," she all but melted, "I feel like I'm so busy all the time, even when I'm not at work. I know I'm lucky to be doing a hobby of mine for work, but it does take out some of the fun of baking for myself, you know? And it used to be a kind of stress reliever, but now it just feels like I'm doing my work again." 

"I'm sorry," he told her, brows knitting in the middle at the explanation. He'd never really thought about it like that, if he was being honest. He always figured that if you're doing something you love, you never work—or whatever it was that quote said. "I've never thought about it like that." 

"I didn't either before I started," she shared, "But, it's okay, really. I still enjoy baking and my job is easy because of that, I just don't have the urge to bake in my free time like I used to." 

"As long as you're happy," he murmured. He felt as though it was a secret he was sharing with her between the stacks, that he thought at all about her happiness. 

Her finger paused on the spine of the book she was tracing over, a falter in her route. Looking up at her, he saw the ghost of a smile on her lips. 

"Do you bake or cook or anything like that?" she asked once she seemingly recovered, her attention now placed on the autobiography of an eighties songwriter. 

Taking in a deep breath, he kept himself from drawing his gaze over her profile. His attention was forcefully placed on what looked like a memoir of a philosopher. "Not really. Baking is too scientific for me; all the measuring makes me feel like I'll mess it up," he offered, "And, I don't really cook anymore." 

"Anymore?"

It was an innocent question. The wording he used was something anyone would pick up on, so he wasn't sure why he felt nervous knowing that she picked up on it. He swallowed, throat bobbing around the building words. 

"Yeah, I don't cook much anymore but when I lived with my—um—my mum we used to cook together a lot." Though it was little more than a sentence, this was the most he'd talked about his past to anyone in over a handful of years. He just hoped she didn't ask about his mom. 

"That's really sweet," she said, looking up from where she was reading the back description of one of her books, "What did you like to cook?" 

Relief touched his chest at the new subject matter. It didn't matter how long it's been since he and his family had to scatter themselves around, it was still hard to speak on them when he never got to process the grief over losing them. This was easier, speaking about her indirectly, even if he could still feel that well of emotion growing heavier in his stomach. 

"We liked to make this soup together a lot; it had rice and chicken sometimes and other little things. I think I was too young to really pay attention to what she was putting in before she had me doing something else. It was that and a lot of grilled cheeses, and Sunday dinners, and just... things she knew I liked." 

Harry felt himself shutting down when he started uncovering more and more memories in the kitchen with his mother. Those moments were what they had left up until things changed, her always having him help even when he was old enough to do more than wash the produce and stir the pot. His defense mechanism of shutting down kicked in, shutting him out of his own memories and own recollection of those days. 

"That's really cute," (Y/N) murmured, looking at him with something in her eyes that looked entirely too soft to be directed at him. Her gaze lingered before it dropped back to the book in her hands. "I've always been okay at cooking, but before I started at the bakery, I used to make cupcakes all the time." 

Cupcakes. That was much easier to focus on. He almost wanted to thank her for changing the subject. 

"Yeah?" 

"Mhm," she hummed, sliding the book back into place on the shelf, "I used to try all kinds of weird flavors with different frostings and little designs in all different colors. It was so fun, but now the idea of doing something like that after I get home from work makes my hands hurt before I've even started." 

A furrow pinched at Harry's brows. That same instinct he had that urged him to check on her earlier piped up once again. "Do your hands hurt a lot from work?" 

"Sometimes," she shrugged, facing him with the tendrils of her bow fluttering behind her, "If I'm working on the bread case that day, then yeah. All of the yeast stuff that needs me to really work with it and everything, that hurts my hands the worst, but it usually depends on the prep." 

It was the way her face dropped when she said the word prep and how quickly she pulled out her phone afterwards that had that concerned instinct flaring once more. Even as she tapped away at whatever it was that lived in her phone, her attention stitched elsewhere, he still squared his shoulders as if to show her he could help. "What's wrong?" 

"I almost completely forgot I have to go in for an overnight this weekend. Sabrina was supposed to, but she has a concert that night she doesn't want to miss," she sighed, finishing whatever it was that was on her screen before putting her phone back into her bag, "It's basically just a prep shift while we're closed so the opener is ready to put things in the oven. I haven't done one in so long; I don't want to." 

"You can't get out of it?" Harry pressed, feeling worried over how much she didn't want to do it. 

Was there more he needed to be concerned about? Was she hiding from something? Was someone making her do this? How was he supposed to help her if she didn't tell him what was going on?

"It's honestly not that bad, I'm just being dramatic," she smiled at him, relaxing some under the intensity of his gaze, "These are the kinds of shifts that hurt my hands the most, but it's nice going on when everything is closed. I don't have to be in uniform, and I can just listen to music and be by myself for a little while." 

By myself. That pinged in Harry's head a little too loudly. He understood what she was getting at—the kind of solitude that had him gravitating towards his own overnight shift—, but that didn't ease him into the idea of her being alone overnight in the bakery. 

"I'll be like you that day," she told him, kicking her toe lightly against his own Vans, "A vampire getting up before the sun is up, and everything." 

He wanted to lighten up, especially at the small touch she offered him without reason, but he still was working overtime in his head. "You'll be alone? No one else is coming in with you?" 

"Yeah, but it's not so bad," she said, inching out the aisle with Harry following her lead, "I'll see one of the other girls when I come in after we close, but after that it's just me." He was sure she could tell he wasn't completely eased at the new centimeter of information. "I promise it's not as bad as I was acting. I don't even think I'll need to drive that day, so I won't need to worry about parking or anything either." 

Though Harry knew she was trying to reference back to when she told him that she wasn't very good at parking and always made herself nervous when she had to pick a spot in the overflow lot by the bakery, he was focusing too much on the fact she wasn't planning on driving at all. 

"What do y'mean?" 

"I think I'm going to walk to work that day since it'll be so quiet, anyway. It'll help me relax a little afterwards, I think." 

Harry almost stopped in his tracks. She planned on walking to her overnight shift. The shift that exclusively deals in dark nights and little to no light? The one that encourages those that feel too comfortable in the dark to come out and mess with someone like her? The spines of his chosen books crackled at his tightening grip. 

"You're going to walk?" 

"I live in a townhouse a few blocks over, so it's not a long walk or anything. I would do it more often, I just hate usually have things to do afterwards that I need to drive for." 

"What time do y'get off?" The question rolled off his tongue before he had even decided he was going to ask as much. He hoped he wasn't coming off as creepy as he sounded. 

"I think I'm scheduled until two, but I usually stay a little longer just to make sure everything is resting well before I leave." The information was offered to him with no fight. Another red flag to Harry's too cautious brain. Worst case scenarios began to brew in his brain with villains who made sure to exploit her trusting nature. 

He brushed a knuckle against the tip of his nose, taking in a deep breath. "If you're willing to wait a little until I get off, I can walk y'home." 

It was (Y/N)'s turn for her steps to falling in the meandering trail they were curating through the stacks. She looked at him with an incredulous look on her face, brows raised and eyes wide. "Really?" 

A determined set had his features in hard lines. A furrow scrunched Harry's brows, mouth set into a hard line with a jaw to match, gaze stitched to her own. He didn't waver even when he faltered over his words. "I...I don't like the idea of y'walking alone in the dark." 

The incredulous mold of her features melted away to something much more shy and flustered. A small smile curled her lips, her eyes softening as she looked up at him through a flutter of lashes. She was the closest thing to the human embodiment of the butterflies that made their home in Harry's stomach. 

"You don't mind after working all night?" 

"No." 

Her smile grew some at his simple answer. "I think I'd like that, then. Thank you, Harry." 

Harry only dropped her gaze to keep her from spotting the small curl of his lips over the sound of her voice wrapping around his name like silk. 

—————

Harry had his eyes glued to the clock stationed above the computer in the stock room. The second the hands thunked into position, detailing out three o'clock, he was punching out. Not a minute later. He wasn't going to be late with someone waiting on him.

He promised (Y/N)'d he'd be there to walk her home, and he wasn't going to be a second late. 

It was barely 3:02 a.m. when he stepped out into the rain-soaked parking lot, scaling the length to his car. All night had felt like a countdown, Harry near constantly checking the time on his phone to ensure he would finish with his boxes in time to clock out right away when the time struck. Other than a wave over his shoulders, he didn't waste time playing into the chatty goodbyes of his coworkers. (Even on regular nights, he didn't understand how they could be so eager to socialize at three in the morning after a full shift). 

After pulling out of the parking lot, the drive to her bakery felt like five minutes with the way he was driving. He especially didn't want her to wait long enough for (Y/N) to get any wild ideas about waiting outside the front doors for him. But, as he pulled up to the building, The Flour Pot sign darkened, there was no one there. 

Peering through the windows after he picked his usual parking space across the street, he saw only a tiny light. Knowing what he knew of the layout, it looked as if it could be one the light to the kitchen or a back office, but the shine could easily be mistaken for a glare from oncoming traffic. 

That was where (Y/N) was. Safe inside. 

The drumming in his chest settled at the knowledge. He hadn't realized he had given so much weight to the scenario where he would pull up to her already walking home without him, some faceless entity trailing her, opening its maw to reveal sharpened fangs before swallowing her whole. (He'd been thinking about checking out Dracula again since their conversation in the library, but after this he figured his imagination was a little too active for something like that). 

Now it was his turn to wait. She had warned him that she would be later than her scheduled time of two o'clock, and he had no qualms about waiting it out for her. He was a patient person, a virtue Harry and learned in his old life, but this was one of the first times he felt content to wait for someone. As long as she didn't leave without him. 

Harry settled into his seat, soft music filtering through the speakers. 

——————

Almost an hour later, from the corner of his eye, Harry saw movement from inside the bakery. The light in the back had been flicked off moments before he saw a comfy dressed figure slipping out of the front door.

(Y/N) had her hair pulled back, a loose shirt on with soft leggings and her ever-present Vans on her feet. Her bag was slung over her shoulder, hands full of her keys and her phone. She took her time locking the front doors.

Through that hour of waiting, fatigue had settled in Harry's bones, making his movements much more lethargic than normal as he readied to meet her on the sidewalk. Until he saw her pull out a pair of headphones from her bag, slipping the buds into her ears before turning in the opposite direction of the shop. 

Though he didn't want to scare her, Harry had to quicken his pace and catch up with her as soon as he could. She didn't seem to hear the thud of his feet over the pavement and splashing through rain puddles until he was close enough to call her name. (Any kind of creature could have snuck up on her with her being so distracted like that. The thought sent a frigid chill down Harry's spine). 

At the call of her name, Harry's hand inches away from grazing her arm, (Y/N) spun around, hand to her neck with a squeaking scream clogging her throat. Realization came a moment later, her widened eyes and startled stature melting away when she took him in. 

"Jeez, Harry, you scared me," she breathed out. 

"Sorry," he told her, hand dropping back to her side, "I didn't want y'to leave without me."

"That's right, oh my god," she bubbled off, replacing her headphones back into the pod carrier, "I almost completely forgot you're walking with me. I'm sorry, tonight's been a really long night."

"'S okay," he said, stepping that much closer to her over the cracked concrete. "At least y'didn't get too far before I caught you." 

"Yeah," she smiled at him, nudging her shoulder to keep the straps of her bag up, "Thank you again. Even though I almost forgot, it means a lot." 

Harry only nodded his head, that odd feeling of a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth returning at her words. It wasn't something he'd experienced in a long while, but (Y/N) seemed to be the only one that could pull it from him. 

Falling into step beside her as they started on the couple block walk to her home, he saw as she flexed her fingers as her sides, her phone being discarded to float in her bag instead of in her grasp. "Are your hands okay?" 

Flexing her hands out in front of her, (Y/N)'s joints were visibly stiff with spots of flour decorating the hem of her sleeves. "Yeah, they're not too bad, actually. I've definitely had worse." She ran the pad of her thumb over the meaty part of the other. "I'm really only sore right here, but I'll be fine." 

Her voice was like a melody over the sounds of the night. Rain showers had cleansed the town earlier in the night, leaving their footsteps to be complimented by the stick of raindrops clinging to the rubber soles of their shoes. Leaves rustled around them as drops slid down the surface, arcing down every leaf until joining a puddle created on the concrete around them. Everything smelled wet and fresh; clear. (Y/N)'s refreshing presence fit in perfectly. 

"'M happy you're alright," he said, his own hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. Peering at her at his side, he saw her looking to the sky. He slowed his steps to not leave her behind. "Am I allowed to know what y'made today?" 

"Of course," she laughed, looking at him with the same kind of wonder she was giving to the starry sky, "I prepped a lot of shortbread tonight, so Sabrina can make them into tulips later, and even more croissants. I did a few other little things for the bread case but I think the croissants got me the worst today." 

"Yeah? Why do you think that?" 

"It's all the layers," she started, leading him in taking a left out of the main town, "It's a lot of rolling it out and making sure I get it all done before the butter starts melting in between. I've gotten a lot better at the timing since I've started, but it's still a lot to work on all at once." 

"I didn't know that. 'M sorry." He now suddenly felt bad for enjoying any of her treats. He didn't like the idea of her hurting just for a sweet to start his morning. 

"Don't be sorry, it's okay. Someone has to do it," she chirped out, mimicking the birds that were beginning to wake up around them, "How was your night, though? Did you just get off?" 

Harry shrugged. He didn't really feel like telling her he'd been waiting for over an hour outside the bakery for her. "I got off a little earlier, but yeah. It was an easy night, jus' boring. Longer than I thought it would be." 

Her bag bounced against her hip as they walked, her eyes like the starlight when she looked at him. "Unpack anything fun?" 

Dropping his head, he brushed his knuckle against the tip of his nose to conceal the small twitch on the corner of his mouth. He knew what she was getting at. "I mean, I did unpack some cookies tonight." 

(Y/N) had them cross the street before turning into a suburban area, full of small houses. It was like a gingerbread house community Harry thought, everything similar but distinctly different with the way every inhabitant decorated the outside. 

"What kind of cookies?" 

He had to look the other way this time to keep her from seeing that smile. He didn't know why, but he wasn't sure if he wanted her to see him like that; as if she would call him out, like even she would know he wasn't supposed to be happy like that. 

With a shrug and his composure in place, Harry told her with a flat tease, "This raspberry kind with white chocolate, I think? And one of the other guys unpacked some fancy cheeses, too. At least I heard anyway." 

She was silent beside him for a moment. "I can't tell if you're making fun of me, or if you really forgot that those are two of my favorite things right now." 

"Are they?" 

That had a peal of laughter falling from (Y/N)'s lips. She drifted close enough then to bump his hip with her own, looking up at him with faux offense. "You think you're so funny, don't you?" 

Looking at his feet, the puddles he disrupted with his steps and the clinging wetness that filled the cracks in the pavement. Peering at her from the corner of his eye, he spotted her still looking at him, a smile crumbling her facade. 

"A little." 

(Y/N) only laughed and shook her head, bumping his hip once more. She mumbled something under her breath about how of course he did. 

Straying from her path, (Y/N) bumped Harry's hip once more, her bag pressing into his side. His steps never faltered, eyes forward and a twitch in his lips. He forgot what it was like to be teased and have fun with someone. 

The silence that fell between them was filled with the clear, dewy slick of the rain under their feet. The gingerbread neighbourhood he'd seen down the street was now around them in their cookie cutter shapes and frosting decor. Short white picket fences outlined the perimeters of the small front yards, the houses stacked side by side behind. 

(Y/N) stopped in front of a row of three units. A set of pastel colored curtains in the window of the one bookending the building gave away exactly who lived there. A dull cream paint was brushed over the panels with a muted blue trim and front door. It was a complete replica of every other townhouse on the block. 

The personal touches came in the form of a sunshine yellow bird house hung on her small porch, leaves and twigs poking out of the front hole. A welcome mat was placed in front of her door, the pattern one of daisies and strawberries though the colors had now been muddied and dull from every time a pair of feet wiped themselves off on the fibers. Around the side was a window with a flowerbed hung underneath. Instead of blooms and bright petals, Harry spotted brown leaves and wilted stems. She tried her best to keep those plants alive, he was sure. 

"This is mine," she said, looking up at him with starry eyes. For the first time since he picked her up, he saw those lines of fatigue around her irises, exhaustion tugging at her features. 

"I'll see you soon, then?" he asked. He didn't mean to sound so abrupt, but he wanted her to get some rest. As much as a part of him wanted her to linger outside with him, to spend some of these usually lonely hours with him, it wasn't fair to keep her from sleeping. She wasn't like him. 

Nonetheless, a soft smile touched her chapped lips. "Definitely." 

Despite the pause that would allow her to head inside and end her night, (Y/N) lingered for a beat longer. Reaching a hand up to press those stray baby hairs out of her eyes, she looked at him through the fan of her lashes. 

"Harry?" 

He swallowed. "Hm?" 

She looked sheepish in that moment, struggling to meet his eyes with a shy smile on her lips. "You can tell me if this is too much, but I was wondering if I could have your number, maybe?" 

Harry's voice stuck in his throat when he processed what she said. His hand clenched in his pocket, his phone suddenly heavy in his back pocket. 

A nervous hand pushed back hair that wasn't in her face when the silence stretched on a little too long for comfort. "I don't know, I'm sorry, I just think it might be nice to know when I'll see you again, instead of just waiting? And, I'm really bad at remembering to tell you about the things I see that make me think of you or things I think you'd like and all, so it would be cool to tell you before I forget." 

Standing there in the clean air after rainfall, a dew touching his skin with birds beginning to sing around him, Harry felt frozen. His heartbeat didn't quicken, his blood didn't rush, his hands didn't shake. He had been plunged into ice, stopping him in his spot with a breath of air stuck in his lungs. 

(Y/N) wasn't supposed to ask him that. She wasn't supposed to want to see him, to find things in the world that made her think of him—she wasn't supposed to think of him at all, really. How did he get here? 

How had he tricked her into seeing anything more than a standoffish man who didn't need anyone but himself? Even with these stolen moments together, he couldn't imagine he would enter her mind in the same way she had been able to do to him. 

A shuttering blink had Harry's eyes clearing by the time he opened them to find her still standing there. In a millisecond, words tumbled out of his throat, his hand fumbling for his back pocket. "Y-Yeah, of course." 

In clumsy fingers, he held his phone out towards her. The device had a hairline crack along the side of the screen, a case that had seen more wear-and-tear he figured most people would allow, and a generic Lock Screen. He didn't bother opening it up and taking her to the needed app. There was no security to get through on there, nothing for him to hide in his squeaky-clean existence. 

"Thank you," she said, looking up at him with a shy smile on her lips. She was bashful under his gaze, gingerly taking his phone and swiping through the screens and tapping on what she needed, a short tremor touching at her fingers. "Is it okay if I text myself from your phone so I have your number too?" 

Swallowing, Harry nodded his head, stuffing his hands back into his pockets before he had a chance to pluck at his cuticles again. "Maybe—um—y'can let me know the next time y'have a shift like this, and I can walk y'home again. Maybe." 

A breathy laugh fell from her lips at his stumbling words, her gaze flicking from the phone to him. "Definitely, I'll let you know. I don't get scheduled for these often anymore, but you'll be the first to know if that changes." 

Harry couldn't remember the last time his body reacted this way—the frozen limbs, the waking heart, the stunted lungs. Definitely never under such sweet circumstances, he knew that. 

Though he felt like he could have been standing there long enough to see the sunrise then set again, it only took a moment for the text she sent to herself to go through. She took her own phone out then, surely looking at the text and saying Harry's number for herself. There was something especially bright in her gaze when she looked up at him to return his own device, her phone being wrung between both of her hands.

"I'll see you again soon, then?" she asked, toeing at the ground. She didn't attempt to fix the sliding strap of her bag. 

"Yeah," he sounded in the quiet of the slow morning, a nod of his head. 

He expected her to then spin on her heel and head inside, a goodbye said over her shoulder before he would trace his path back alone. Instead, (Y/N) lingered, her hands growing busier on her phone, playing with the corners of her phone case. That nervous pinch in her brows returned. 

"C-Can I hug you?" she asked, voice almost as small as the dew drops on the grass of her yard, "It's okay if you're not a hugger or anything, though, I just thought I'd ask 'cause..." 

She trailed off before any real explanation could be given, a sheepish shrug in its place. 

If he thought he had been plunged into ice water before, Harry swore he was frozen under the throes of an avalanche now. 

"No—um—y'can. 'M okay with it." His voice felt thick in his throat, smearing over his tongue before falling out for her to taste too. 

(Y/N) brightened like he had given her something sweet, a treat she couldn't have made herself. 

Harry couldn't remember the lead up or any of the details before she had folded her arms around him. She had reached up, looping her arms around his neck while Harry's settled around her middle. His hands spanned the planes of her back, ducking down with his nose touching the crown of her head, ruffled strands of hair tickling him. 

From the outside, there was nothing special. She didn't squeeze him particularly hard or press her whole body to his, she didn't spill any secrets into the column of his neck. But, this had to be one of the most profound moments in Harry's recent life. 

The last time someone hugged him, he had to have been a teenager. He'd forgotten what it felt like to feel that kind of gentle touch. 

She didn't linger for too long, drawing away after she had cradled him for long enough. The absence of her form left a ghost of heat on Harry's body. He almost wanted to clutch at it like it was really her. He'd settle for the warmth of her gaze. 

"Thank you for walking me home and everything, Harry." Her smile grew as she spoke. "It made my night." 

He could have crumbled then. Whatever was happening to his body and his brain, he wasn't sure. It felt good, though. 

"Goodnight, (Y/N)," he murmured as she took her slow steps back to her front door. His hand tightly clutched his phone in his pocket. "I-I'll text y'when I get home?" 

It was like the sunrise occurred right in front of him the way she perked up. "Yes, please! I might be asleep, but I want to make sure you made it home okay." That bubbly smile was tacked onto her lips as she absently fiddled with the doorknob. "Goodnight." 

Harry stayed on the concrete until she was safely inside, a wave being thrown over her shoulder to him before the door was sealed shut behind her. It was then when he was alone that he allowed a smile to break out over his features. 

Though only the ground under his feet saw it, the smile was for (Y/N), only.

His phone was warm in his palm when he pulled it out, something he was willing to convince himself was still from (Y/N). Sliding open the lock screen, the message thread she had started was still up. 

Up top, her name was punctuated with a lotus flower and a croissant. The one message she sent to herself was a heart emoji. Though he hadn't been the one to press send, seeing the text in the blue bubble on his side the screen, made his heart tick. It was easy to pretend he was the one that sent it in the first place. 

The whole walk back to his care he couldn't wipe the smile from his face.

—————

hyssop represents purification and hope; letting go of the past and allowing a better future

eepppp! super excited to show you some different parts of rosemary h! patreon is now a little more than halfway through the story now, so if you cant wait you can def sign up there and get to know more of their story! thank you soooooo much for reading and following along! so sorry if theres any mistakes but please let me know if you have any fun ideas or requests or predictions!

[depravity-n-savagery]

『 Kiss, Marry, Kill 』

Part 2

♡ Pairing: Billy Hargrove x (fem)Reader

♡ Summary: Billy shows up at your house, kicked out by Neil until he brings Max home. You invite him to join you, Max, and El's little sleepover so he can avoid Neil for as long as possible. Pure fluff ensues.

♡ CW: Neil, abuse, angst in the beginning, sibling bonding, lots of fluff, orgasmic cookie eating, sexual tension, kissing, damn near a marriage proposal, friends to possible future lovers

🛑 18+ MINORS DNI 🛑

♡ Word Count: 3.6k

♡ A/N: This is just cute as all fuck, tbh. I wanted to see some Billy/Max sibling bonding and fluff with Billy so here we are! Cuddle the fuck up ♡

No matter how many houses you live in, sometimes you still end up without a home. Four walls and a roof doesn't automatically qualify. There's security. Comfort. Belonging. Love. All things that were absent in every Hargrove household. From California, to Hawkins, or fucking Timbuktu. If Neil was there, it wasn't a home. It was a nightmare.

Billy stuffed handfuls of essential items into the pockets of his denim jacket. Car keys, condom, sunglasses, box of cigarettes- where was that damn lighter? He felt around his jeans and even flipped over the pillow on his bed. No lighter in sight. Shit. At this rate, he won't make it out before Neil gets home. When his father wasn't out with Max's mother, he kept a predictable schedule. One Billy grew accustomed to maneuvering around, for minimal contact.

Like clockwork, the lock on the front door clicked and Neil entered the house. Even from upstairs, Billy could hear him grumble and slam his coat and keys down. Mood already soured. Great. "Billy!" He called out, voice echoing throughout the house. Billy actually contemplated how quiet he could be sneaking out the window, but there was no time. After just five seconds of not replying, Neil stomped his way up the stairs. Making a beeline for Billy's room till he stood in the doorway. "So what, are you deaf or just dumb?"

Billy's whole body went stiff, turning to face his father. Although the man constantly demanded eye contact (purely for intimidation), Billy never looked at him so much as through him. He mumbled. "I didn't hear you come in."

"Bullshit, but whatever. Your sister-" Neil purposely emphasized, just itching to get a rise out of him. "-isn't home. It's past curfew."

Knowing Max, she was probably running around with those little nerd kids from her school. Or you, the only other girl his age that caught the redhead's interest. She followed you around like you were the coolest thing. He found it kind of cute, in a pathetic way. Yeah…that's what it was. Not that he'd ever mention it.

"You know the Jane kid she has sleepovers with. Call her dad. I was already on my way out." Finally spotting his lighter peeking out from underneath one of his folded shirts, he leans over and plucks it from its hiding spot. Maybe if he walked while he spoke, Neil wouldn't stop him. So he took one step toward the open bedroom door. Toward Neil. Bad move.

Neil rushed him, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket and forcing him up against the wall. The force of Billy's back hitting the surface knocked over one of his posters. "What? You finally gonna make a move, pussy?!" He released Billy's jacket with a shove, straightening his posture to make himself bigger. To make Billy small in his presence. "Huh?! Come on, then! THROW A PUNCH!"

It was a nice thought. Finally having enough of the shit and smashing his fist right into Neil's face. Again, and again, and again, until his tormentor was unrecognizable. Until he could no longer see the traces of himself in that man's face. But it was a thought that stayed locked away. Instead, Billy wilted. Standing there frozen and waiting. Bracing.

Neil scoffed, standing back as if he were going to leave. That would've been too easy. In this house of horrors, Billy never got off easy.

○ ▪︎ – – 《 ◇ 》 – – ▪︎ ○

The atmosphere at your house brought back memories of warmth and nostalgia. Homemade cookies cooling in the kitchen, fresh squeezed lemonade in the fridge, and laughter so loud it drowned out the television. Truth be told, nobody was paying attention to it anyway. You, Max, and Eleven sat in a circle on your carpeted living room floor. Magazines and comics spread out, along with whatever makeup you could find in your limited collection. You didn't wear much normally, but sometimes you liked to play in it. Try different looks. Tonight the girls requested makeovers, so you flipped through your magazines for styles that might inspire something. At least you were, until you heard a firm knock at the door.

"I'll be back. Keep looking!" You said, standing up from your criss-cross-applesauce position. Your house was pretty spacious, so it took a bit for you to reach the door and open it. The last person you expected to see was Billy 'Fuck Me' Eyes Hargrove. You called him that because that's what he often gave you, whenever you met eyes with him during your time together at school. 'Fuck me' eyes. Those cold blues would undress you from across a crowded room like no one else was there. Like no one else was worth his attention. Nothing ever came of it. He never asked you out, or even just started a conversation. Perhaps you were just eye candy. You both graduated before either of you could figure it out.

"Hey, Y/n." The infamous blue eyes were now covered by an oddly large pair of sunglasses. More odd than that was the fact that it was dark outside. Why was he wearing sunglasses at night? He cleared his throat, momentarily covering his mouth with a clenched fist. The knuckles on his hand were red and raw, looking like they might bleed. Billy quickly realized his mistake and pulled his hand down to tuck them into his jacket pocket. The attention now drawn to his lips, and the trace of blood smeared from a fresh cut on the bottom one. "Your mother never told you it's impolite to stare?"

Caught red-handed, you immediately averted your gaze. "Sorry…" Yeah. Not how you expected your first conversation with him to go. "How uh- Did you need something?"

It wasn't the way he wanted to introduce himself either. Bitterness got the better of him before he could think of a better approach. "Yea, actually. Is Max here?" He winced a little, pulling the corners of his mouth up into a sultry smile. "If not, I could just take your number. Y'know.. just in case." Yikes. He was off his game tonight and he knew it. At this point he was better off shutting up and letting his physical charm handle the rest. Strong and silent. Heavy on the silent. His wounded pride had him questioning the 'strong'.

You looked over your shoulder and into the house, tilting till you could see the two girls chatting where you left them. "She's here. Me, her and El were havin' a girls day."

Billy had the audacity to snort. "Girls day?" He mocked, struggling not to actually chuckle. It already hurts to smile. "How cute." If television and movies held any accuracy, all he could picture was you three painting nails and braiding each other's hair. Laid out on your stomach, feet kicking while you talked about whatever stale Hawkins boy caught your attention.

"Yes. Girls day." Your eyes rolled, but you took no actual offense to his teasing. Concern still lingering over the cut on his lip, and the beginnings of a bruise on his cheek. Oh shit. "Is- Is she supposed to be home? She told me her mom said it was okay-"

"Well, nobody told my dad that. It's past her curfew. I gotta take the brat back home."

The sharp tone in his voice made it seem more urgent than he was letting on. Guess she must be in trouble. You opened the door wider, standing back so he could step inside. "Come in, I'll go get her." Without even waiting to see if he followed, you made your way back into the living room. Max met you halfway, probably hearing her brother's voice from down the hallway.

Usually Max would scowl at him, or force herself to appear neutral and aloof. The unexpected appearance must've really caught her off-guard. Her eyes widened looking up at him. Was it fear? Neil never laid a hand on her, but he still frightened her. Sometimes he was even a bit too nice. The implications of that thought made Billy want to puke and never take her back there.

"Max, you mind if I talk to Billy alone for a sec?"

The redhead shrugged. "Go ahead, take 'im." Practically throwing you in his direction.

His boots shuffled down the short hallway, past family photos and your framed high school diploma. The scent of chocolate chip made his mouth water the moment you both entered the kitchen. His eyes zeroed in on the tray of cookies, staring like he hadn't eaten in days. You caught him, picking the tray up and holding it out to him with a smile. "They should be cool by now."

Billy hesitated at first, then slowly reached out and took a cookie. They were still warm in the middle. The melted chocolate pulling apart as he bit into it. He almost came in his pants. The mmmh that vibrated through him was borderline pornographic. "Fuck, you made these?"

Your cheeks flushed. People enjoyed your baking, sure, but they never enjoyed it like that. It had you ready to bake him all the cookies he could ever want. "I do most of the cooking and baking here. My parents work a lot. Plus, it's just fun to me." He made a happy noise through his chewing, another cookie already pinched between his fingers. Your eyes drew back to his lips. Plump, moving as he chewed. His tongue occasionally sticking out to lick away a crumb. Even the way his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed seemed to draw your attention. For some reason it made the back of your neck sweat. "Y'know… You and Max don't have to leave."

He finished swallowing the mouthful he had, licking over his teeth before he replied. "Sorry doll, but we do. I uh… I can't go back home unless I bring her."

You really really didn't want to pry, but the whole situation made you feel uneasy. Like the two of them going home right then and there just didn't seem safe. So you sat the tray down on the counter beside him and stood a little closer. You wanted to talk low enough so the girls wouldn't hear. "Max told me your dad isn't exactly a nice dude. She wouldn't go into detail, but I can tell that there's more." You raised your hand up toward his face, aiming to cup his cheek where the bruise was. Surprisingly, he let you. But he was statue stiff. Your thumb ghosted over the puffy discolored skin. It was hot to the touch. Very recent. "Did he…?"

Maybe it was the sweets. Or the concerned/comforting gesture. Due to all the people he slept with, Billy never really considered himself touch starved. Turns out, he was. He hadn't been touched like this since his mother was around. Soft, and caring. Tending to his wounds both inside and out. Initially he wanted to back away or rip your hand away from his face, but he was tired. Exhausted, and this simple gesture cooled the heat of his rage and anxiety. He didn't confirm nor deny what you asked. You didn't ask again.

He just lets you care for him. Stood there while you slid his sunglasses off and examined the bleeding scratch under his eye, and the swelling there too. Kept his eyes closed as you walked off and came back with a first aid kit. Cleaning and putting bandaids wherever they were needed. Even holding a bag of frozen peas, wrapped in paper towel, up to his face. Only then did he finally open his eyes again and look at you. Moisture still clinging to his eyelashes. They were such a beautiful sight, those eyes. This was the closest you had ever seen them.

"Look, if you're already kicked out of the house, then what's the harm in staying out longer? If you stay here with Max, then technically you are keeping an eye on her." You shifted the frozen peas, making sure the coldest area stayed against his skin. "Besides. We're a bunch of young ladies in this house all alone. My parents are staying out tonight. Maybe I'd feel safer with you here." You were half-joking. Your parents had a gun safe that you knew the combination to, and you weren't exactly a bad shot. Still, the idea of Billy being there to protect you made you feel warm and fuzzy inside. Not that he'd really give a damn. He barely knew you.

"Okay."

A sigh left his lips as he reached for yet another cookie. "You got a point. I'm just- I don't wanna deal with him tonight. Don't wanna deal with Max's attitude. And like you said…" He grinned as he took a bite. "...Can't leave you here defenseless, now can I?"

So he stayed. Max was absolutely floored, and El clung protectively close to her. Even when you reassured them everything was cool and Billy seated himself on the big recliner. His boots were officially removed and sat by the front door. He was here to stay.

The activities carried on as usual. Max and El settled on some makeup looks they wanted to try, so you opened everything up and started experimenting. Billy just silently observed. You were currently brushing blue eyeshadow across El's eyelids. It matched her blue shirt and black suspenders perfectly. Max sat and watched, shifting impatiently on her knees. That's when an idea popped into your head. "Hey Billy."

"Hm?" He was fully expecting to just be a part of the background. Out of the way until it was time to leave.

"Can you help Max out with this? I kinda got my hands full with El right now." You thrust an eyeliner pencil in his direction.

Billy gave you a look that said 'you have GOT to be kidding me', but you kept holding the eyeliner out toward him. He opened his mouth to protest, looking for some sarcastic remark. Until he looked at Max. The way the excitement in her eyes started to fade. That was his fault, and you weren't going to let it go. So he took the pencil and turned to his stepsister. "Sure."

She was hesitant to face him at first, let alone have him get up in her face. It took a little encouraging nudge from you before she settled herself in front of the recliner Billy sat on. He leaned forward, squinting as he started lining her eye. If there's one thing he took pride in, it was being exceptional at multiple things. A man of many talents. Even a bit (more than a bit) competitive. So he was dead set on making this come out right. "Stay still if you don't want me to poke your damn eye out." To his surprise, Max listened. Stilling and trying her best not to blink too much.

"Have you… done this before?" Max asked. Nervousness clear in her voice.

"No." He spoke softly, the gravel in his voice sounding more soothing than harsh. "I just- used to watch my mom do this a lot." He had her chin in his hand, moving it to keep her face where he wanted it. A little rougher than he meant to be, but Max wasn't phased. She had actually started to relax a bit. So he did the same.

You and him finished up around the same time and turned the girls around for a big reveal. Son of a bitch. His eyeliner work actually was better than yours. Even El seemed to agree as she nodded her head with a smirk. "Bitchin'." Max beamed, flipping her hair out like she was posing for photos. You looked up at Billy and noticed a little smile forming on his face as well.

The next activity you had planned was something you and the girls had thought up while you were all at the mall. It seemed like a fun game to play while the other boys weren't around. Fuck, Marry, Kill. Well, to be kid-appropriate you changed it to Kiss, Marry, Kill. Read about it in some teen-girl magazine. You didn't notice when Billy had joined you all in the carpet sitting circle, but there he was. Sporting an eyeliner makeover that Max insisted on giving him. Her technique definitely needed work.

"Alright, you first El. Kiss, Marry, Kill." A bowl of popcorn rested between your legs, and you picked out of it. Playfully tossing a kernel at Billy. He caught it in his mouth, giving you a wink as he chewed. You'd be lying if you said it didn't give you butterflies.

El furrowed her brows, tapping the side of her face with her index finger. "I would… Kiss Dustin, Marry Mike, Kill… Papa."

"Who is-" You held your hand up, cutting Billy's question short with a mouthed 'I'll tell you later'.

Max hummed, rocking back and forth. "Kiss Lucas, Marry Will, Kill Mike." She shot a mischievous look towards El, at the mention of killing her boyfriend. The two of them laughed and play-wrestled with each other.

"Marry Will?" You chuckled, since Max and him probably spoke the least out of the entire friend group. She shrugged. "Well, we had to choose from people we actually know. Or I'd be marrying Ralph Macchio."

Even Billy spared a chuckle for that. "We have got to work on your taste, kid."

Max's head turned in his direction, whipping her hair over her shoulder. "What's wrong with Ralph Macchio?!"

He held his hands up in mock defense. "Nothing, nothing. Honestly, I always thought you'd swing the other way."

You rained down popcorn kernels in his direction. Throwing them with as much force as the fluffy puffed substance could withstand. "Billy!" The girls joined in, throwing popcorn at him as he smirked and repeated. "I'm just sayin'."

10 minutes of cleaning later, it was now your turn. "Alright, Kiss Marry Kill. Uhhh… Kiss Billy, Marry Eddie, Kill Steve." Max's jaw dropped, which you assumed was over the choice to kill Steve. "What? Steve owes me twenty bucks."

"What about you, Billy?" El spoke up, drawing everyone's attention.

Billy shifted, running his fingers through his blonde curls. "Uh.. Kiss Nancy, Marry Y/n, Kill Steve."

"What is it with you guys and Steve?" Max asked, not really expecting a response as she stood and made her way to the bathroom.

"You heard Y/n. He owes my wife twenty dollars. Gotta defend her honor." He pointed his response mostly toward you. Staring you down with those gorgeous eyes.

The next hour flew by like it was nothing. Possibly because you couldn't pull yourself out of your thoughts. You hadn't thought about Billy this much when you were going to school together. Tonight you just couldn't stop. Picturing those eyes. Those lips. His hands. The sinful amount of chest peeking out from his half-unbuttoned red shirt. The way his jeans hugged his ass. Get a hold of yourself, woman!

The two young girls were snoozing, huddled together under a blanket on the couch. A Nightmare on Elm Street playing on the television. Perfect time to get some cleaning in before going to sleep yourself, so you quietly made your escape into the kitchen. Trying not to disturb anyone and letting Billy watch the movie in peace. Instead he chose to follow you.

The two of you stood in a comfortable silence for a moment. He just leaned against the counter watching you wash the dishes. "So… you're gonna marry Eddie?" He teased, scooting closer to you. "Yeah, I guess I'm the kinda guy to get 'kissed' but not married."

You didn't look up from the dishes when you replied. "Well, it's against the rules to pick the same person for more than one answer. Otherwise I would've done that."

"Oh." Billy almost sounded offended. "So he gets the ring AND my kiss."

"Nooo, stupid. You… You'd get both."

No way in hell you just said that. So openly?! You quickly rinsed off the last dish, cheeks and ears burning. With a small pile of dried plates in your hands, you tried to rush past him. Something stops you in your tracks. He blocks your path, putting his arm out in front of you. "I think I want that kiss now."

Every scenario you used to dream up back in high school couldn't live up to this. Your imagination didn't add in the smell of cigarettes and cologne. The way the muscles in his arm flexed as he leaned against the cabinet. Lowering his face to meet yours. He let you meet him the rest of the way, careful not to irritate the cut on his lip. It was sugary sweet, like the cookie taste that lingered there. Uncharacteristically chaste for someone with Billy's reputation. The thought of having him ravish you was something you held onto for another time. You could tell he was holding back from the way he clenched his hand around the edge of the counter. Like he was fighting the urge to put his hands all over you.

For now, this was perfect. When the kiss finally ended, he gave you that sexy grin. "Now about that ring."

"How about you take me on a date first."

"Friday night." Billy plucked the pile of dishes out of your hands and walked away to put them where they belonged. Opening cabinets until he found the right one while you stood there. Mesmerized. Tonight was expected to be just a cute little distraction. A short reprieve before he had to go back to Neil. Now there were plans to meet up again. You couldn't help but smile to yourself.

If he plays his cards right, maybe somewhere way down the line… he could have that ring.

♡ A/N: Yeeaahh yeah, he might be a little ooc in some parts. I was just feeling very soft today. 🥺💞 Literally wrote this whole this as soon as I woke up. Hope you enjoyed it. ♡ Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated. ✨️

Ao3, Masterlist, more links coming soon...

[badingsm]

VIII — Meetings, Buddies, Romanoffs

Warnings: Cursing, jealousy, a bit suggestive, and the buddies (?)

Note: I'm rusty, I know.

"I didn't like their pasta. It's bland."

"Me too." Natasha chuckled lowly, walking hand in hand with you towards the immigration office, where you'll both be interrogated by Loki Laufeyson himself.

"Good morning." You smiled at the old lady in front. "Natasha and Y/n Romanoff?"

There was a little pause while the older woman named Jennifer (you noticed her nametag) looked through the schedules for today before nodding and kindly leading you to a room.

It has white walls trimmed with nothing but cleanliness. The neat stacks of papers were placed atop the table as you both entered cautiously and plopped down against the sofa in front of the windowpane, where the sun shone brightly like it's signaling there's good news for you to hold on to, making you smile to yourself. There's also the faint smell of tobacco and whiskey combined, causing your nose to scrunch, and before you could even go further into observation, Jennifer spoke once again.

"Mister Laufeyson will see you soon; he just got caught up with some important meetings," She informed apologetically, but you both brushed her worries off. "For the mean time, please let us accommodate you with some drinks and snacks. I'll send someone back in, alright?"

"Please don't bother-"

"Thanks!" You cut your wife off quickly, and you feel the burn of her gaze on the side of your face as soon as the door shuts. "What?"

"You're still hungry?" She questioned incredulously, but her tone betrayed her with amusement. "After everything we ate?"

"Hey!" You pouted. "I told you, I didn't like the food! But it was pricey, so I wanted to finish it, you know?"

"Oh, baby, you didn't have to do that!" Natasha laughed before groaning, "You'll barf on me on the night again."

"I won't," You said smugly.

Knock knock!

"Juice, water, snacks—Y/n?"

A familiar voice had drawn your attention away from your wife, causing your eyes to widen in recognition.

"...hi?" You pathetically choked out when you felt Nat's hand on your thigh. "Darcy."

"Y/n!" Darcy beamed with her bright red lipstick, raising her glasses back up as they slipped on the slope of her nose. "How have you been? It's been... ages."

"Yeah." You laughed hesitantly. "So, um.."

Natasha cleared her throat to make her presence known.

"Oh, wait. Nat, this is Darcy." You nodded to the brunette, cringing inwardly. "And Darcy, this is Natasha, my wife."

"Hey!" Darcy Lewis smiled at your wife, who only lifted her brow, unamused. "Nice to meet you!"

"You two know each other?" It seemed more like a statement than a question. "How?"

You rubbed your neck uncomfortably and chewed your lip. "Well. Uh.."

"Well?" Nat said, raising her brow and frowning. "Please do enlighten me, my love."

Well, you couldn't really formulate any proper words, and Darcy noticed that.

So, being the frank person that she is-

"We were fuck buddies before."

And, as I already stated, frank.

Very, very, very frank.

"Excuse me?" Natasha looked at you, daring you to agree with Darcy's statement so she could throw you off, but you just gave her a weak smile while rubbing your neck awkwardly.

Her shoulder stiffened and her jaw clenched, and you knew you were in trouble.

"That was before," You mumbled truthfully, taking her hand.

"And? Am I supposed to thank you for that?" She said, her tone stern while glaring at you. "Know what? I don't think I'm feeling well for this meeting; I'd just call Laufeyson and reschedule this shit."

You panicked when she stood up, freezing in your spot, prompting her to turn to you with a sarcastic smile. "What? You wanna stay here and reunite with your fuck buddy or-"

"Or nothing!" You shrieked, catching up. "Come on, babe, let's go home."

"Yes," She replied shortly, opening the driver's door and locking it before you could even enter. Lowering the window slightly, "I am going home. You? Go to your fuck buddy, yeah? Seems like you miss her anyways."

You groaned while watching the car drive off into the streets, alone to yourself, as she didn't even listen to your protests.

This is gonna be a long ride.

-

Two days later.

"Babe, we're already on the plane, and you're still not talking to me?" You frowned, shifting in your seat. "Lola will notice this, and she'll be upset to know that we're fighting."

"Trust me," Natasha muttered. "She'll be more feral about your little... buddies."

"Hey!" You pouted, "Darcy is one! And don't get me wrong, sure, I used to play with women before, but I'm all changed now, okay? This is Y/n Y/l/n 2.0! Will love you like a pro!"

She made a disgusted face, making you laugh before she leaned her head towards your shoulder, causing you to sigh in relief and kiss her forehead as she slept through the flight.

-

"Natasha, Y/n!"

"Hi, Lola!" Natasha kissed your grandma's cheeks when the older woman pulled her in for a hug. "Um, Ma, bless."

Natasha burrowed her in-law's hand before she raised it into her forehead to show her respect, which made you smile because she's adapting your culture.

It's adorable.

"Where's Papa?" You frowned, saddened by the feeling of déjà vu.

Thankfully, your mother was quick to clarify things. "He's in the parking lot and waiting in the car."

You grinned and grasped your wife's hand while carrying your small luggage on the other.

"Baby?" Natasha whispered on your side, causing you to hum in response. "Remember what happened with the immigration?"

"The one with Loki? I still think we've done a great job-"

"No, the one with Darcy," She smirked. "I'm telling that to Lola."

"Please, no!" You widened your eyes, horrified.

You watched her run away from your side as she caught up with your grandma and began narrating dramatically your interactions with Darcy.

You knew you were doomed, but you couldn't help but chuckle at how serene it feels to see your wife getting along with your family after all the circumstances that you've both gone through.

But again, good luck.

Lola's wrath would be a thousand times worse than anyone's, especially with how Natasha made you look so dirty in her eyes.

-

"I should be mad at you," You mumbled as you both walked towards the street, about to buy some of Natasha's favorite foods that she missed back when you were both in New York to assess her papers. "But you're cute."

"Ew." Natasha scrunched her nose. "I prefer badass."

"Mhm." You nodded, laughing a little as you looked down towards your linked hands to hopefully kiss it, but before you even knew it, you bumped into someone. "I'm sorry, I wasn't—Ingrid?"

"Oh, hi!" The blonde smiled widely. "What are you doing here?"

"I was actually born here," You said, feeling a jab on your stomach before you saw your wife's raised brows. "And this is my wife, Natasha."

"Well, this is awkward." You heard Ingrid mumble lowly to herself, but she was quick to dismiss it. "I was sent here for a couple of weeks to complete some business deals."

"Really?" You questioned.

"Yeah." Ingrid nodded, and she felt someone staring at her so hard that she felt like there's already a hole in her forehead. Soon enough, she confirmed that it was your wife. "I should probably, um," She awkwardly gestured her way, "Yeah. I should go."

"Well, goodbye!" You smiled, nodding.

"Bye!"

"And who's that woman?" Natasha asked as soon as Ingrid had left. She feels like history is literally repeating itself, "Again?"

"Uh." You rubbed the back of your neck, and Natasha knows what that means already.

She sighed, clenching her jaw. "Tell me how many more of your fuck buddies I would meet. Should I do some meet and greet with them already?"

"Baby, I don't even intend to see them." You paused when she scowled. "Hey, it's not my fault! Honest!"

"Tell me, how many women do you have?!"

"My-" you shrieked. "What?!"

"I'm sorry," She scoffed sarcastically. "Should I rather say, fuck buddies?"

"No, god!" You cringed. "I hope she's the last one, though."

"Oh, so you admit that there's a lot! You're an absolute fucktoy-"

And before she could even start an argument, you covered her mouth quickly and began pulling her towards where you saw someone grilling your favorite street foods.

-

"I'm hungry!"

"Go starve," Natasha scoffed.

"Baby, come on, I promise she's the last."

"Y/n?"

You heard another familiar voice, making you wince when Natasha's glare doubled its intensity from before.

"Lucy, hello." You smiled lightly towards the brunette, feeling Natasha's hand on your thigh possessively.

"Well, here are your orders." She placed the plates on the table along with the sauces before nodding politely and attending another customer, but not before saying, "Let's catch up soon, yeah?"

You laughed unsurely when you felt your wife squeeze your leg in warning.

"Sorry, I have to go now!" She grinned before dashing off to attend to other customers.

"Really? Even her?" Natasha looked at you incredulously. "Seriously, this is not funny anymore."

It's not your fault that your past flings keep popping up here and there, but you don't want to invalidate Natasha's feelings of jealousy because they're surely valid.

And usually, it takes a lot for Natasha to be calm after one of her jealous moments, but you're more than happy to reassure her anyway.

"Babe, we talked about this." You started, "I love you so much, I wouldn't dare to cheat-"

"Y/n?"

Another familiar brunette had appeared in your vision, making Natasha fume this time.

"Oh, for fucks sake!" Natasha breathed out, chuckling sarcastically. "I'm going home. Enjoy your food, Y/n."

"Baby, wait!" You quickly stood up to follow Natasha, not even glancing at the other woman. "Hey! Nat!"

"What?!" She snapped.

"I'm sorry.."

It's simple, but Natasha knew that it's deep, and you meant to say it in more ways than one.

"No." Natasha shook her head, sighing after a while. "It's stupid anyway."

"You have every right to be upset, you know. There is no need to lie about it; I know you like the back of my hand."

"It doesn't matter." She rolled her eyes.

"Certainly does." You nodded. "I'm sorry for everything, okay? I want you to know that I would never ever leave you, especially if it's for another woman. I love you too much, and I hope you know that."

Silence.

You were afraid that she'd run away again, but soon all your worries were gone as she kissed you possessively.

"Mine," She mumbled, biting your lips.

That made you smile, sighing in relief.

"Let's go," Natasha chuckled, pulling your hand.

"Where are we going?"

She smirked seductively, "We're making babies."

And there, my gays, that's how Atasha Margaret Y/l/n-Romanoff and Andrew Nathan Y/l/n-Romanoff were brought into this world after you both had settled into bed with Lola's baby maker blanket covering both of your bodies.

The end.

[moonlightazriel]

Chapter 7: Pain is what makes us /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Y/N and Nesta have a nice bonding day. Elain is forced to face her feelings.

Word Count: 1,8K

Warnings: None for this part.

Notes: This fic is becoming my favorite...

Main Masterlist

Worlds Apart Masterlist

“It will definitely scar.” Madja warned as she removed the stitches from her wound two days later.

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” The words slipped from her tongue with a darker meaning than she intended. Nesta watches as three faint lines remained and a more protuberant one stood in the end of her ribs, that might’ve been painful as fuck. 

“Do you feel any pain?” She pressed her warm fingers against the sore patch of skin.

“Nope, i’m good as new.” The female smiled at her, a comforting smile that she received just a couple times in life, making her heart swell.

“Then you’re good to go, please be careful next time.” She warned with a stern look. Y/N jumped from her seat, pulling her shirt down and nodding her head.

“Thank you Lady Madja.” She giggled.

“Oh sweety, just Madja, it's fine.”  Nesta laughed too, thanking the healer again before dragging Y/N out of her office and towards the busy city streets.

“We need to find you a dress for the Hewn City trip.” Nesta had their arms intertwined as she walked around towards her favourite boutique. 

“What is Hewn City and why does everybody just talk about it?” It was true that since the announcement all they talked about was the upcoming trip, Nesta had promised to tell her the details but in between her training with the Valkyries and Y/N spending all of her time down the library with Lucien, they barely had time to talk about it. 

“It’s the Court of Nightmares.” Nesta eyed the female. “They are kinda independent but they still answer to Rhysand, we go there sometimes to ensure everything is working as it should.” 

“Sounds like a lovely place.” Nesta snorted.

“You’ll see.” She dragged her through a door to a small building, dresses were displayed in front of the glass windows. 

A bell rang when they crossed the threshold, a lovely lady was behind a counter, hands pressing a purple fabric down the surface, while she marked with a piece of white chalk the parts where she had to cut with the giant scissor laying beside her hand.

“Nesta, welcome back darling.” Her brown eyes lit up as she turned her head spotting the female that had just entered.

“Nice to see you again, Imelda.” She smiled at the lady. 

“What can I help you with today?” She crossed the counter, her eyes scanning Y/N’s silent form behind Nesta.

“I need a dress for my friend. Court of Nightmare dresses.” She winked. 

“Over here, darlings.” The elderly lady turned her back leading the way to a section of the building that had various dresses in different dark shades.

“She makes the dresses for the inner circle, especially the ones we use there.” Nesta whispered as they followed Imelda. 

“What kind of dress do you have in mind?” She asked Y/N and honestly? She had no idea what to answer, she had never worn a dress in her long existence, only her riding outfits and pants, they were easier to fight and run in case she needed to. No extra fabric to allow someone to grab at her and slow her down. 

“I have no idea, but I trust you.” The female’s eyes lit even more with excitement. 

“You can undress and wait behind that curtain, please.” The store was warm, Y/N found herself bare in front of a mirror, her eyes scanning the new scar on her side, then roaming over her frame and catching every single one of them, like she always did whenever she had to face herself. 

The first dress was simple, just a floor length black dress with a halter top. Nesta scrunched her face at the sight, she looked good in it but it wasn't the one yet. That’s how she found herself opening that curtain to reveal dress after dress, just to be shoved back inside and try a new one. 

“This is going to be the one.” Imelda warned, before her hand placed the dress on a chair by her side. 

She slid the soft shimmery black fabric over her head, looking at herself in the mirror after she finished adjusting it. It was floor length like the previous ones, but it had two slits that reached the top of her legs, exposing so much skin, but she liked that. The upper half hugged her breasts perfectly, with a deep cleavage and just a strip of fabric holding the two parts together, the sides of her waist and a bit of her belly exposed. She turned around, swallowing hard past the lump on her throat at the exposed back and the scars marring her skin there. 

“We want to see.” Nesta urged her outside, she took a deep breath, pushing the curtain aside and stepping outside. Nesta started to cheer, claiming that this was the perfect dress for her and telling Imelda to pack it cuz they were getting it. “You look breathtaking.” She complimented and Y/N blushed.

She looked at herself for a couple of minutes, how the dress complimented her figure, her full breasts spilling from the fabric and making her look beautiful. She faced a ginning Nesta outside the curtain, gently taking the dress out of her hands and giving it to Imelda.

“I have no money to pay for that.” She suddenly remembered and Nesta brushed her off.

“It’s going to the inner circle tab. Don’t worry about it.” The female smiled again. “Ready to walk some more? I need to go to this bookstore.” Y/N lit up.

“I could read something that doesn’t include very long rants about old gods being dicks.” Nesta nodded.

“I have the perfect books for you.”

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

Another cosy and comfortable store, the smell of books lingered in the air and made her want to stay there forever. Not many people were inside, some gave Nesta a nasty glare and she noticed how she shuddered at them, curving her body to appear small.

“Why do they look at you that way?” Y/N asked when they were alone shuffling through books.

“Some think I'm a witch, that I'm evil. People call me Lady death.” Y/N raised an eyebrow.

“You say witch like it’s a bad thing.” Nesta turned to her ready to apologise. “I’m not offended, it’s just that they can think what they want of you, only you have the power to make their assumptions true. Let them think you’re a witch, we’re pretty cool anyway.” 

“You’re right.” Nesta almost melted with the sympathy she found on her blue eyes. She didn’t know about her past, and it was a nice feeling knowing that someone had sympathy for her just being herself. “I should take you to Windhaven. They almost shat themselves at the mere thought of me being a witch, imagine if they saw you?” 

“Terrorise males for no other reason than to have fun?” Nesta nodded in agreement. “Count me in then.” The two females laughed.

They had spent the whole day shopping. Nesta brought her new books, new shoes and jewellery to go with her dress, a nice pair of sapphire earrings and an arm cuff with a matching stone. Nesta was easy to talk to, warm and welcoming. At first she seemed cold and distant, but once she opened up she was a great person and Y/N was glad to be meeting her.

She had told her about her life, confiding in her with her story and that was something Y/N would treasure forever, that trust that she knew someone like Nesta didn’t give easily, but decided to give it to her. And that only made her more respectable, she was someone with flaws that everyday tried to do better than she did yesterday, she still failed sometimes but she didn’t let that stop her from getting up and trying one more time.

Y/N knew how it felt to see your world crumbling down and not being able to stop it, being stuck in the shambles of what you once were, not knowing how to find a way out, not being able to breath and just suffocating in the never ending pain. She had more in common with Nesta than she would've imagined and that brought the two closer. 

And when they got back to the House of Wind, flying Meraxes together towards the residence, she knew she had made a friend for life, whether she got back to Erilea or not, the bond she shared with Nesta was engraved in her heart forever, to never be broken. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

Azriel curled his arms around her waist, and his touch never felt heavier against her skin, wrong. Y/N’s words have been stuck in Elain’s head for two whole days, replaying themselves like a torturing symphony, driving her insane.

She hated to admit, especially cuz no one had ever called her out on this before, but deep down her gut, she knew the female was right. It wasn’t fair to Lucien to keep doing it, getting mad at every being that approached him, not allowing him to live. She was a coward that couldn’t bear the thought of letting him go. At least not yet.

She wanted to have a choice, choose differently from what people expected of her, her whole life was wasted in fulfilling other people’s expectations of what they thought she was. Choosing Azriel was her act of rebellion against the box everyone caged her in her whole life.

But now that she had experienced what choosing was like, she understood that she chose wrongly, Azriel would always have a place in her heart for helping her adjust to a new world, helping her out of her shell and teaching her how to live again, but her heart belonged to another, claimed and yarned for another touch, another gaze, another love.

She loved Azriel, but no longer how a woman loved a man, the love she had for him turned into a love a friend had for another. Whenever she thought of him the feeling of gratitude was bigger than anything else, but when she thought about Lucien, love was the only thing she could distinguish in between so many feelings towards him. 

She didn’t want to hurt Azriel, not as he already had been hurt before, but was the right choice to keep pushing forwards just to make it more painful at the end? Wouldn’t it be better if they stopped here before she caused an unnecessary heartbreak in the male that didn’t deserve it? Azriel had a heart of gold and she would hate herself if she broke it. 

She blinked, watching the ceiling in the dark. Shadows moved around it, his shadows that never dared to touch her, not like they did with the witch. Maybe they also knew that this wasn’t right and were just trying to protect their master. Elain took a deep breath forcing herself to go back to sleep so she wouldn’t be so tired on the next day. 

For their sake and his, she would fix everything soon. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

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[animekpopsimp]

Hello! I hope you are doing great :)

I was wondering if you could write a Platonic father Aizawa x daughter reader. Someone broke into their house in the middle of the night and try to kidnapp her.

:))

I'm having a great day! I hope you are as well.

Night had fallen over Japan, and in a particular home, a little girl was fast asleep. (Y/N) Was laying in her bed, hair sprawled across her pillow as she slept. The moonlight shone through her window, illuminating the room slightly. Suddenly, the faint sound of glass breaking reached her ears, causing her to stir slightly. The girl slowly opened her eyes, trying to figure out what the noise was. (Y/N) rubbed her eyes tiredly and she sat up in her bed, staying quiet. Soon after, the sound of very faint footsteps reached her ears.

As soon as it did, the girl began to panic. Her heart beat began to quicken as she tried to figure out what to do. As the sounds got closer, (Y/N) rushed out of bed and ran to her closet. Being as quiet as possible, the little girl opened the door and stuffed herself as far into the corner as she would fit. She then closed the door again, shrouding herself in darkness. Sitting there, (Y/N) did her best to steady her breathing as the footsteps got closer before stopping. A heavy silence hung in the air for a moment before it was broken by her bedroom door being pushed open. The little girl's eyes went wide as she stayed completely still, watching as two figures entered the room. They made their way over to the bed, stopping in front of it.

"The brat isn't here" a voice spoke,

"she has to be, keep looking" the second replied, sounding annoyed. Then, they started walking toward the closet, making (Y/N) panic. Thinking quickly, she grabbed a blanket, and threw it over herself, hoping they wouldn't notice. A moment later, the closet door was opened and one of the men looked inside. (Y/N) could feel his eyes on the spot she was hidden in, she could only hope he wouldn't find her. The man's gaze remained on the corner of the closet for a moment before he turned back and called out to the other man.

"There's no one here." He spoke, closing the closet door rather forcefully. He turned and began walking away, but the force of the door being shut knocked one of (Y/N)'s toys off of the shelf. It fell, hitting the little girl in the leg. She almost cried out, but managed to stay quiet, so she waited as the men left the room. She felt relief when they were gone, but she could still hear them downstairs. Throwing the blanket off of her, (Y/N) quietly opened the closet door and got out, the room was left untouched for the most part. Suddenly, she was once again startled by more loud noises coming from downstairs. There was shouting and sirens. (Y/N) froze until her father's figure appeared in the doorway. Aizawa ran over to the little girl, pulling his daughter into a hug as tightly as he could. (Y/N) Felt a wave of relief wash over her as she rested in her father's arms..