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auteurdelabre · 5 months

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CODE BROKEN (part 5/5) dark!Joel x f!Reader

pairings: dark!Joelxf!Reader (she's you!)

rating: 18+ (scram youngins!)

Words: 12.0k (wtf how?)

Warnings: femdom (if you squint), hands off, cockwarming, sweet dirty talk, Joel whimpers, sweet!Joel, fluff and angst, protected p in v.

a/n: Y’all this was one of those weird stories that I wrote and posted to A03 that no one commented on. Then just as I was giving up all these people on tumblr and then A03 started being like “we want more dark!joel!” and because I can’t deny you anything, I kept going. And now we’re here and I’m actually kinda heartbroken I won’t be writing about these two anymore. Anyway, I thought this concluded things nicely and if you agree (and even if you don’t) please leave me a comment because I don’t make shit on these. It’s all for the love of writing (and getting’ comments).

Code Broken Parts 1 - 4

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Code Broken: Total Eclipse of the Heart

Trish's wedding is beautiful and sentimental and everything you knew it would be. Seeing her in the dress you spent months making, beaming as she kisses her husband Cliff makes your heart swell.

When the group throws the multicolored confetti and it lands like snow in her rust colored hair you think it's the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen.

They've decorated the old church basement beautifully. Handmade bunting hangs from rafters; lopsided cakes made from whatever could be spared from the kitchen line the tables. The children of Jackson are shrieking and laughing as they spin around the crowd of people, darting between legs with icing smeared over their mouths.

You're tired after all the lead up to this event. Exhausted after the preparation, the decorating, and the assurances to Trish that it was no trouble to do it all. Trish holds her son in her arms, smiling up at her husband who presses a kiss to her forehead.

You sit back in your chair at one of the tables watching the crowds drinking and dancing as a few of the locals play a surprisingly in-tune melody with the instruments they possess.

"You did a wonderful job," Maria tells you as she walks by. "Wish I'd had you around for my wedding."

You smile and thank her before you lean back; eyes sleepily half-open as you watch the couple nearest to you spin together.

Mark gives you a wave from across the room, his arm around the waist of Jenny, one of the newer people to have moved here. She gazes are him adoringly and this makes you smile as you return the wave.

You’d never say it, but it makes you feel a bit like an outsider seeing all your friends coupled up. Even though you never needed anyone else, the thought of another person sharing in your life has its appeal.

"Hi there."

The husky voice behind you is quiet and careful. Low enough for only you to hear. You crane your neck to look over your shoulder. Joel is standing there looking down at you seated at the table.

Joel is dressed like most of the men here in jeans and a button up. His hair is combed back and he smells good. Spicy like cologne, a rare commodity in Jackson.

The sight of him pulls at your lower belly. Despite the weeks that have passed since you saw him last, that desire you carry around for him hidden behind your ribs seeps through.

He's staring at you similar to how he was the last time you saw him, dark and heated and you momentarily shrink from his intense gaze.

You haven't seen him since that day in the stables when you rushed off and you expected to be more furious with him. Instead you just feel gentle irritation mixed with a lust you wish you could will away.

"Hi."

He's got his hands in his pockets, standing awkwardly like he's nervous. Joel nervous? You think you must be misunderstanding because Joel Miller is never* nervous.

You've seen him break unruly horses, heard stories of him taking down clickers and Raiders. Why would he be nervous talking to you?

"You look beautiful tonight," he murmurs.

What the fuck?

You blink up at him confusedly. Did Joel Miller just call you beautiful? When you don't answer you see him swallow, eyes going to your shoulder before coming back to your gaze. He looks like he's about to say something but then another voice breaks in between you like a knife slicing through the air.

"Hey come dance with me!"

You both look over to see Mark approaching you with an expectant look on his face, hand held out towards you. His girlfriend Jenny is dancing with some of her friends to the music the band is playing and she gives a cheery wave in your direction followed by a mouthed: "come dance!".

You feel Joel's eyes boring into your profile as you look up to Mark.

"Sure!"

You stand, taking his hand as he tugs you to him. He must notice Joel standing there, half encased in shadows because he starts.

"Oh hey Joel," Mark says with a broad smile. "I didn't see ya there. Just gonna steal this one for a dance."

You can see Joel's cheek tic as Mark spins you away, Joel's dark eyes fixed on you as Mark tugs you around in his arms on the dance floor. You feel strangely giddy at the moment. Almost delighted that Joel is watching you being swept away by another man, even if it is platonic.

You want Joel uncomfortable. You want him to be just as miserable as you've been these past few weeks. Because you can't get him out of your head, you can't stop thinking about it. Can't stop thinking about the softness of your last interaction.

Mark is a very bad dancer, but not as bad as you. He does goofy over exaggerated facial expressions as he kicks out his legs. You laugh breathlessly, clutching onto him when he twirls you around in his arms.

You catch Joel's eyes on you a few times, but resolutely turn your attention anywhere else. You notice Tommy comes up to talk to him, but Joel's eyes never leave Mark's hands on your body. They skim over your hips and you can see Joel's fingers tighten around his drink glass.

Mark guides you towards Jenny and the rest of the group. Trish and Cliff are dancing up a storm and Cliff surprises you by grabbing you by the waist and raising you into a spin that lifts your feet off the ground. You give a shriek of laughter, clutching to his shoulders before he sets you down again. Finally the song is over and you are breathless and sweaty at the temples.

"Thanks, I needed that!"

Mark flashes you a grin before waving you off and going to pull Jenny into a tight embrace from behind.

The music slows and you watch as everyone begins to pair up on the dance floor, hands slinging around waists, heads balanced on shoulders. It makes a tear go through your heart, a sudden feeling of awkward isolation.

You're about to leave the dance floor when you feel the heat of another body behind you. You smell him, wood shavings and leather.

"You wanna dance?"

You turn to see Joel standing there, mouth fixed sternly as he gazes down at you.

Shock floods your system at his words. Is he really asking you to dance with him? He wants to hold you and spin you around on the dance floor in front of all these people? He wants to publically be seen with you?

Joel doesn't dance. He barely attends events like this. You've never seen him at the summer dance party. If he is dragged to an event along with Tommy he sticks to the wall, arms crossed nursing a drink. What kind of game is this?

"Are you serious?"

He allows this insult, amusement clear in his eyes but not the rest of his features.

"I was, yeah."

You think of how shitty he's treated you over the past year. The way he's fucked you every which way and never kissed you. You think of how he's taken you and used you and you sneer up at him, feeling prickly.

"Never."

Joel's mouth twitches into a deep frown and you can see red creeping up his neck. You've embarrassed him.

Good.

Nearby couples are watching this exchange with curious looks. Both of you seem to notice this at the same time.

"G'night then."

Joel gives a sharp nod, backing away from you slowly before his long muscled legs are carrying him out of the church. You watch him leave, your stomach twisting before you throw yourself into a nearby chair, head spinning.

What just happened?

You spend the next hour making polite conversation with the people who pass you, giving Trish a hug when she comes to thank you for the twentieth time for everything.

"I want to have you over for dinner next week," she says, eyes filled with thankful tears.

"You're on."

You make your way back to your house, passing by the still partying group smiling and waving.

When you round on Rancher Street you think about Joel tonight. Of his nervousness and his calling you beautiful. Of asking you to dance in front of everyone. Didn't he care about the gossip? He’s notoriously private.

You can see a light is on in his house and this gives you pause. You consider going home and forgetting everything. Ignoring him for the rest of your days. But then something unknown sends your pulse spiking, something that leads your feet to his door and commands you to knock loudly.

You hear his footsteps pad slowly to the door, opening it and looking at you with surprise. He looks tired and you wonder if you’ve woken him. He’s wearing the same clothes though so you assume you caught him napping on the couch.

"What're -"

You push your way inside, not waiting to be invited. Joel allows this, watching you in confusion as you go to his sofa and shrug off your jacket.

You're looking around at his place, at the empty fireplace and the cracked mug on the coffee table, the book tented beside it. Your fingers absently strum his guitar as you pass it, a small smirk on your lips.

Joel walks towards you slowly, footfalls heavy as he regards you from behind curious eyes.

"Take a seat," you say casually motioning to the sofa as he approaches.

Joel doesn't move, doesn't indicate he hears you. You watch his wide hands twitch at his sides, his dark eyes set on you. You tilt your head back, face serious.

"You owe me this much, Joel."

Joel's tongue goes to one side of his cheek as he considers this. This feels like a standoff, a battle of wills. You wait until he finally gives a nod and lowers himself to his sofa, eyes never leaving yours.

You feel such a mixing confusion of emotions for the man looking at you. No, he's gazing at you. Eyes that were always cold and peering now seem softer around the edges. It confuses you.

You're still standing by the empty fireplace, holding your trembling fingers against the mantle. You take a sharp breath in, quietly.

"Take yourself out of your pants."

Irritation flares there in Joel's features. You've pushed too far.

"N-"

"Joel if you ever want to see me again you'll do this," you say sharply. "I mean it."

You hope that it doesn't come out as breathless as you feel because right now you can barely breathe. This is a big gamble. There's a very good chance he's going to kick you out as he's always done.

But then you think of him calling you beautiful and asking you to dance. You think of the looks he gives you when he thinks you're not looking and you consider that perhaps he might acquiesce.

You school your features, sure not to look shocked when Joel's hand finally goes to his belt, undoing it with one jerked movement of his hand. Then he stills as if waiting for you to admit that this is a game that he doesn't have to continue.

But you square your jaw and cross your arms in front of you. You raise a brow and find yourself getting aroused at the power shift. For once you're telling Joel what to do and much like you were that night in his house, kneeled in front of him, he wants it just as badly as you do.

Slowly his zipper is lowered, his jeans shifted and you watch as he brings his cock from underneath his boxers. You blink slowly.

"Already hard," you say approvingly as your eyes scan his already weeping cock. "Good."

Joel isn't smiling, but he isn't furious either. He's just sitting there, arms moving to either side of him on the back of his sofa. It's as if he's relaxing, about to watch the TV he doesn’t own. He continues looking up at you with big brown eyes, his cock rosy and resting on his lower belly.

He isn't trying to look intimidating. He just naturally is.

He watches you tug down the panties from under your dress, stepping out of them and shoving them into your dress pocket. His eyes move from your pocket to your face as you move to the sofa on trembling legs. He watches as you stand in front of him, knees touching. You take a deep breath, lifting one leg over his until you bracket his thighs.

"What is this?" Joel asks tone icy even as he shifts to accommodate you.

"I need something to come on tonight," you tell him. "And I've decided your cock will do nicely."

He says nothing. He doesn't move, doesn't deny this request. He simply continues to stare up at you. His lack of reaction unnerves you, but you plunge ahead regardless.

"You got a condom?"

Joel reacts slowly, tongue pushing into the side of his cheek once more. He considers your question before his hips shift up as he reaches in and pulls the square foil from his back pocket. He holds it out to you.

"Expecting to get lucky tonight, Joel?"

"Nope."

You raise a brow in disbelief. Joel sighs through his nose irritably.

"Was hopin', not expectin'."

You make a scoffing noise in the back of your throat before you motion to the condom with your hand. You expect defiance from him but he slips it on without question, his movements slow and measured as you watch.

You've always thought his hands were beautiful in a large, masculine way. Tonight is no different watching him hold his thick cock as he pinches the end of the condom before rolling it down.

When he's finished you move him to your entrance, eyes fixed on his face. He continues to stare in silence until you slide your already dripping cunt down his cock.

Then he reacts.

"Fuuuck," Joel groans, head tilted back and eyes slammed shut. You work your way down him, humming as his ridges bump inside, creating delicious friction before you come to rest against his hips.

You can tell he's waiting for you to move, to make noise, to do something. But you just sit there with your legs on either side of him, wrists balanced lightly on his shoulders. For once you'll be the one watching him unravel.

You peer into his face, your eyes sliding along the strong nose, the creases at the corner of his eyes, the fullness of his lower lip. You long to reach out and nibble it. It's sinful to have a mouth that kissable on a man so recalcitrant.

Joel's eyes remain closed, his pulse ticking away in his neck. You see his throat bobbing and then he groans. His broad hands rest gently against your waist, urging you against him. His hips shifting upwards to fuck into you. Your hands go to his chest and you push back from him.

"You don't move. You don't touch."

Joel's eyes snap open, head lifting to stare into your face. You're on his lap, almost at eye level now. You see the fire starting, burning in the dark coals of his eyes. The air is thick with tension, his body almost vibrating against yours.

"And if I do?"

"I'll jump off your lap so quick it'll make your head spin," you tell him sharply. "Then I'll leave and never come back. And I'll make sure my bedroom window stays locked."

This heavy threat hangs between you. To your credit you say it all without trembling. You sound self assured, confident. Even with Joel buried to the hilt inside you, his thick cock pulsing, you manage to stay composed.

Joel considers your proposal but not for long when he feels you begin to rise up off of him. His hands remove themselves from around your waist, returning to the back of the threadbare sofa.

You watch him tense before nodding, his mouth in a grim line of frustration.

Good. He fucking deserves it.

You lower yourself slowly back fully onto his lap, his cock warm and thick as you welcome it between your thighs once more. You sigh softly as it nestles there, filling you deliciously. He always feels so good.

"So I just sit here?" Joel murmurs; his eyes shuttering as he forces his hips to remain still.

You find that his voice is just as potent as his cock, your head tilting forward in order to catch every syllable that passes between those pouty lips of his.

"Uh huh," you say plainly.

Joel gives a solemn nod at this, his eyes not leaving your mouth. His arms are still hanging along the back of the sofa but his hands are tightening against the ridge of it. He braces himself, watching with hawk-like focus as your hips begin to shift again.

You smile at the way he struggles to remain still when your thighs spread over him, flashing the glossy sheen of your inner thighs and cunt. You're already drenched with arousal.

You groan as his length grazes your clit when you move. Your wrists once more go to his broad shoulders for purchase as you begin to bounce slowly in his lap. Your head falls forward slightly, your back arching as you slide along his slick cock. You feel his mouth at your ear, husky and deep.

"M'I allowed to ask for anythin'?"

You pause your motions in surprise by this soft utterance by Joel. You shift your head slightly to find his face inches from yours. He doesn't let anything show in his eyes good or bad. You regard him, body stilled atop his, almost breathing into his mouth when you speak.

"What do you want?"

"A kiss."

The sibilant sound of his request echoes in the following silence. Joel's eyes register hope now, a subtle kind of need that you haven't seen before in him.

You find you can't answer him.

Instead you take him deeper into you and Joel makes a soft humming noise, it seems like it slips past his lips unwillingly. He bites down on his full lower lip, stopping himself.

You can see he's trying not to give in, not to make a sound as you slide up and down on his hips in achingly slow movements. His eyes are closed and his jaw is clenched so tightly you're shocked he doesn't break a tooth.

Your head moves forward, lips grazing his temple.

"You like that, Joel?" You huff against his ear. "You like me using this cock of yours to come on?"

He lets out a shuddering sigh, chest heaving.

"F-f..fuck. Yeah."

Then you feel it, his hand creeping between where you join. His fingers desperately sliding over your clit.

You stand abruptly and he slides out of you so rapidly his hips stutter midair.

"What are you---"

"I told you. Tonight you don't move and you don't touch."

Joel's neck is a blotchy red, his forehead is dotted with perspiration and he looks absolutely wrecked.

When you step back towards him he inhales sharply, eyes on the glistening vee of your legs. You align him to the entrance of your cunt and then slide back down the length of his shaft almost angrily.

"Fuck.... Fuck ... " Joel groans helplessly, doing everything in his power to keep still. You hear the squelch of your cunt as you ride him.

You grip the back of Joel's neck, fingers harshly digging there and forcing his gaze down to where your bodies join.

"You fucking watch," you tell him, cunt squeezing him as you rock against his hips. "You watch and you don't touch."

Joel watches the slick of your cunt drooling down his cock and he almost whimpers, but it's overtaken by a groan.

"Why are you punishin' me?" Joel asks through clenched teeth, eyes fixated on your clit dragging along the hairs at the base of his cock.

"I'm giving you everything you gave me," you tell him with poison dripping from every word, sliding up and down. "Using you to make myself come."

"I never did that," Joel says breathing heavily, eyes now fixed on yours. You can see how they roll slightly back with every twist of your hips.

"Never, Joel?"

"Once," he relents. "Only once. Rest of itttt---"

He breaks off into a guttural grunt as your hips swivel. You feel his cock nudge that sweet spot deep within you and your hips rut against him. You make a whining sound of surprise that you think goes down his spine because he quivers.

"The minute you come I'm fucking you over this sofa," Joel warns, mouth at your throat, lips grazing your jugular.

"I don't think so," you tell him, fingers laced behind his neck. "Once I come I'm going home and going to bed."

Joel's head is heavy against the back of the sofa, his lidded eyes on your face. You move slower over him, wanting extend this. Needing to watch the flicker of his eyes when you hit a good spot, needing to relish the moans that turns into deep pants. When you ease off a moment, your cunt slippery with want his voice drops an octave rumbling through his chest.

"You ever think about me fucking you in your bed, pretty eyes?"

"Yeah," you admit after a pause. "Sometimes."

"I can do it now," Joel purrs up at you. "Make you feel so good."

"Nice try."

You've started to swirl back around his cock and he moans lowly. Your thighs are starting to burn with the effort of bobbing up and down on him. Joel's eyes snap to your mouth, watching it part as you pant and give soft little whines of pleasure.

Joel's eyes blow wide, desperation and hope mingled there. His hairline is damp, his restraint obviously hanging by a thread.

"Wanna come for you," he says, voice quiet.

Having Joel at your mercy feels good. Having him looking at you in the same way you looked at him over the passing months feels like vindication. All too soon you've pulled back, only allowing the tip of his cock to graze your clit.

"Beg for it," you tell him as your hips roll, making him grunt and pitch forward. His hips rise, plunging deeply into you, his body unable to stop itself. You allow it, jolting from his thrust a few moments before you pull yourself off of him, scowling.

"I'm not saying it again, Joel."

Joel groans and his body trembles, actually physically trembles. His head is sagging forward, his eyes looking up at you through his dark lashes.

"I don't ... I can't keep goin'," he says raggedly. "I'm gonna come."

"You’d better not."

Now you turn and face away from him, lifting your dress to bunch at your waist. You look down over your shoulder at him, seeing him looking over your exposed ass with awe. With your back to him you slowly back up and your legs bracket his again.

Joel whispers something urgent under his breath as you lower yourself onto his cock, sitting in his lap. Your legs spread widely, hinging over each of Joel's thighs.

His cock hits you different now, tighter, nudging that pleasured core inside that makes you cry out. Your hands go to Joel's knees, bracing there as you urge his cock deeper into your slippery cunt.

"Please," Joel says through gritted teeth. He's panting now, breath sweet like peppermint huffing against the back of your neck. You twist, eyes cast over your shoulder at him.

"Please what?"

Joel's head lolls forward, eyes slowly cracking open. You looks absolutely ruined and to you, Joel Miller has never looked sexier.

"Please lemme make you come," Joel all but whimpers. You can hear the desperation creeping into his voice. "Then let me fuck you properly."

There is a wild moment where you consider denying him. Where you think of pulling yourself off of him and never seeing him again. Making him ache for you the way you ache for him in those dark, quiet times.

"Please baby," Joel whispers, his fists clenched so tightly at his sides his knuckles are almost translucent. "Fucking need to make you come. Please."

Joel Miller is begging you.

Begging.

Something snaps in you, desire licking between your legs. You tilt back until your spine is flush with his front, his cock still buried in your cunt.

He's gazing down at you, steady and dark and if you didn't know better you'd say your pose could almost appear loving. Your head balanced back on his shoulder, your palm going to stroke his cheek. He swallows at the contact, his mouth drifting towards yours.

"Go on then," you tell him, lips nearly grazing his. "Make me come, Joel."

The words aren't even out of your mouth before he thrusts his thighs apart. Your legs are slung over his, so you feel them parting luridly, exposing your glistening sex to the night air.

One of Joel's hands is sliding up your dress to cup your breast, the other slipping over your thigh to thumb your slick clit between your puffy pussy lips. You quiver at the immediate pleasure of the sensation his touch brings, your cunt tightening around his cock.

"Goddam you feel like heaven," he groans into the back of your neck making you preen.

His hips begin a slow but deepened pace, jostling you in his lap. You groan against his neck, eyes closed languidly.

"That's right," Joel croons when you gasp deeply. "Fucking go on, baby. Take it. S'all for you."

You begin to whimper, shaky needful sounds as your hand clutches at his neck, your forehead braced against the side of his jaw as he fucks into you from behind, holding you there in his lap.

"So good," Joel says in that husky drawl of his. "You're so fucking gorgeous like this."

All too soon you feel that heavy thump between your legs, the building crescendo. Joel groans as he feels you edge your climax, his body quaking under you. He holds you against him tighter, his rumbling moans vibrating against your spine.

"Wanna make you feel so good," Joel rasps in the shell of your ear. "Wanna give you everything. Please come for me, baby. Lemme hear you."

At his last words you begin to shatter against him, an unholy sound breaking from your throat.

"Oh yeah- just like that pretty eyes," Joel says grinding deeply into you, his voice husky in your ear. "Fuck, just like that, yeah. Yeah, fucking use me, baby. Take what you need."

Your hands grip his tightly against your front and you both move together in some carnal dance. Him thrusting deeply into you as you arch back into him. Your throat is exposed and your mouth parts, an inchoate cry on your lips.

"That's my girl," he groans in your ear before pressing sloppy kisses to the side of your bared neck. "That's right baby, you keep goin' just like that."

It's cathartic and overwhelming as everything that has been tensed in your body suddenly releases. It momentarily frightens you in its severity and you cry out.

"Joel!"

"I've got you," Joel soothes, arms holding you tightly against him almost in a bear hug. "Just ride it out. There you go, there you go. Feel all of it, c'mon baby. I've got you."

You do. You ride it out, body shaking against him as you chase your pleasure chanting his name over and over as he murmurs gentle praise against your temple.

"So good....so fucking beautiful... All for you..."

Finally the trembling ceases and you sag in his arms breathing deeply. You feel wrung out, totally exhausted in both body and mind. Joel's soft mouth is on your shoulder blade pressing a long kiss to it. You melt into the sensation, warmed by the feel of his lips on your body.

"Mine."

It's whispered, not meant for you to hear, but you do. It makes your spine straighten and your body lurch from him.

On jellied legs you struggle to a stand, tripping over your own feet as Joel tucks himself back into his jeans, cock still hard when he pulls off the condom.

"Baby, wait -"

But you don't. You're not his baby. This isn't love. This was payment, this was retribution. This wasn't an act between partners or even friends. You're practically strangers to one another.

You push his door open and stagger home, muscles tight. You still can't believe what you just did. The way you just demanded pleasure from Joel. The power you'd felt when he begged to come. You feel heady, you feel...

Empty.

Empty because now as you collapse onto your own sofa you feel tears prick your eyes. Yeah, you fucked Joel Miller. But it doesn't change anything. You're still here in your house alone.

All alone.

You go to the bookshelf, bringing down the album you so often flip through. You open it to the photo of you and your sister at age eight, arms linked as you squint in the sunshine, gap-toothed smiles on display.

You love that photo because you can sometimes remember that day. Remember how the sunshine felt on your bare shoulders, how your sisters arm linked in yours was coated in coconut-scented suntan lotion.

You flip to a photo of you both bent over a pink frosted cake, your sister's sixteenth birthday party. The last photo you took before the outbreak. You think of that night spent laying on the trampoline out back, looking up at the stars.

"I wanna marry a man that looks just like Johnny Depp," your sister said, cheeks red from the days sun. "But he'll be a model too. And he'll take me all over the world."

Your sister had always been about flash, just like your mother. You were so different from them, more serious, more thoughtful.

"What about you?" She asked, candy-scented breath next to your face.

"I want someone who reads and likes the same music, as me," you replied, eyes trailing dreamily over the night sky. "Someone more serious…Someone like Mr. Rochester in Jane Eyre."

"You're so weird," your sister had announced, giggling in your ear.

You look at the album; your sister’s laugh still ringing in your ear. You look at the empty house around you. You think of how much you lost in the outbreak, how little you have now and then you allow yourself to cry.

///

Later that week you go to work, mechanical and distracted. You work only half your shift before telling your co-workers that you'll finish up the rest at home. That you're feeling a bit under the weather.

You gather the fabric into your arms, bidding farewell. Your mind is full, stuffed to the brim with thoughts of Joel Joel Joel as you wander the streets back to your house.

You're so distracted that you don't notice the tall woman in front of you until she calls your name. When you see who it is you stop abruptly, eyes wide.

"Hey," Tess says giving you an awkward wave as she saunters over to you, a bag of bread in her arms.

"Hey," you say equally uncomfortable. You struggle to find something to say, terrified that she's going to start a scene. Does she know about you and Joel in his house?

She can't. There's no anger in her expression or disgust. Just a polite smile that you yourself would use on any other member of Jackson City. You shift the fabric awkwardly in the crook of your arm.

"You uh, you weren't at the wedding."

Her light eyes drop to the ground before slowly making their way back to your face.

My guy was on patrol," Tess shrugs, blushing prettily. "Wanted to be there for him when he got back."

You smile at this, recalling what Trish told you about Tess. Her new partner.

"Besides I still don't know many people actually," Tess forces a smile. "So it seemed weird to go."

A new kind of guilt assaults you. The kind that reminds you all the time she invited you over for drinks, all the walks that you declined with her. The desperate bids for friendship that she threw your way and that you continually ignored.

"Everyone's invited to everything around here," you say, shifting the fabric to your other arm. "Next event we'll go together. I'll introduce you to the group."

"Yeah sure," Tess says with a real smile. "I'd like that."

"Good."

Tess looks momentarily uncomfortable licking her dry lips before fixing you with a serious expression.

"You know you and Joel don't have to hide that you're together for my sake," she tells you with an earnestness that makes you feel choked up. "I'm happy for you both. That's what I keep telling him! But he keeps telling me to mind my own business."

It's like a bucket of ice cold water has been thrown over your head. Tess seems to want to say more when she registers your reaction but she stops, wan smile on her face.

"There is no me and Joel," you finally tell her flatly. "Never was, never will be."

Tess, looks completely flummoxed. Her hands stem at her hips as she looks at you, her brows heavy.

"You sure about that?"

You open your mouth to say something but then pause. Tess waits, head tilted. You find your voice, but it's quieter than before, less certain.

"I barely know him, Tess."

"He's worth getting to know," Tess says simply, no guile in her eyes. "Even if he doesn't agree. He'll show you though if you give him the chance."

You're struck by the woman's sincerity. Guilty about what went on with Joel, ashamed that you could have done it. Confused because it's like Joel is tattooed on your insides, a continual reminder that he exists every time you draw a breath.

"Joel doesn't let a lot of people in," she adds when she sees the conflicted feelings clear in your face. "When the old world ended it changed how we all saw the future. I don't think Joel ever really saw one where he was gonna be happy again. Makes it hard to be pleasant sometimes."

You don't say anything further, unable to come up with a worthwhile end to the conversation.

Tess decides that she'll be the one to end things with a nod and a murmured goodbye. You watch her leave, amazed that Joel could ever let her go.

///

That evening you watch the sun set outside your window. It's a beautiful light orange that sets everything it touches in golden rays.

It's the kind of night where you want to curl in bed and read with the window open. But you haven't unlocked that window in months.

You won't. You can't.

But you think about heading down to the river in the back lots. It's a trek but maybe you need to clear your head. Everything that test told you this afternoon is replaying in your mind over and over.

Did Joel say something to Tess about caring for you? Why did she assume that you were together?

A knock at the door draws your attention. You towel off your hands and stride over to it, pulling the door open slowly.

Joel stands there on your doorstep, a nervous look on his face.

"Can we talk?"

His hands are thrust deep into his pockets. You can only assume that he's here to pay you back for your visit to his and the thought sours your stomach.

"I'm not fucking you, Joel."

"S'not why I'm here."

He seems earnest when he says this and it gives you pause. You see the sweat dotting his forehead, the strain in his expression. This isn't the face of a man who wants to demand something from you.

Silently you open the door further, signaling with your tilted head for him to enter. He does, shooting you a quick, thin-lipped smile and nod before his broad-shoulder-ed frame is inside.

You watch him enter into your home, his tall frame loping towards your fireplace. He glances at books resting on your mantle. His forefinger goes to touch one, the spine of one before he moves on.

He moves around this place casually as if he belongs here. As if he isn't an interloper in your home.

His eyes dart down to your coffee table.

He points at the album opened up to the page you had paused over last night.

"Family photos?"

"Yeah."

"You're lucky you have so many," Joel murmurs, his dark eyes roaming over the many faces of your family.

"My mom grabbed the album before we left," you shrug. "The only thing I still have from before."

You don't know why but you allow Joel to flip through your family album. He smiles gently when he gets to a picture of two girls with missing front teeth holding ice cream cones on the beach.

"You and your sister?"

"Yeah."

He nods, brows heavy. He doesn't ask but he seems to know all the same.

"Watched her turn," you tell him regardless. "Watched my mom kill her."

Joel is staring at you, eyes wide. His hands twitch at his side. If this was the world before, he would offer condolences but on this utterly broken earth they serve no purpose. Instead he stares at you looking both uncomfortable and overwhelmingly sad.

But you don't care how Joel feels. You're tired and you want to go to bed.

"What do you want Joel? Why are you here? You wanna learn about my family? You wanna hear how after my mom killed my sister she killed herself?" You shake your head. "Is this some new game for you?"

Joel shakes his head. "Was never a game to me."

"Right."

Joel can tell you don't believe him. He frowns deeply before lowering himself onto your sofa. He looks expectantly at you, tilting his head to the empty seat next to him.

"I'll stand thanks."

"Suit yourself," Joel says tightly and you can see that familiar need for control in his features. It pleases you to upend it.

"S'never a game to me," Joel repeats. "Can't say the same for you, though, sneakin' into my house to move my shit around. Why'd you start that by the way?"

Now it's your turn to look sheepish. You consider sending him away just so you don't have to answer. But then you think of him coming here after everything that’s gone on the last few days and you relent.

"You hurt my feelings and…I wanted your attention, I think."

"You already had it."

"Not that kind of attention with you being all grumpy," you roll your eyes. "I wanted you to look at me without scowling. I wanted to be friends. The first time you ever noticed me you were so rude!"

"Noticed you long before that," Joel promises. "Noticed you the first week I moved in."

"Huh?"

Joel sighs, as if what he has to say physically pains him. His foot absently taps against your wood floors, giving him time to collect his thoughts.

"I was carrying boxes upstairs to the bedroom. Your window was open I think. I just glanced over cuz something caught my eye. Maybe your curtains or somethin' moving in the breeze." Joel looks almost embarrassed at all the ancillary information he's offered.

"Anyway I saw you sittin' on your bed and you were readin'. Totally focused, didn't even notice me watchin' you while I unloaded boxes."

You narrow your eyes on him with suspicion. "Why would you watch me read?"

"Was relaxin'," Joel shrugs briefly, honestly. "Whenever I caught sight of you, you were just so comforting. I can't explain it properly. . . But then time went on and I happened to see you when you were readin' or cookin' or just out walkin', you were just so calm to look at."

You feel your mouth parting. Joel had been watching you for so long. Much longer than you even had begun to watch him.

"And it wasn't just calm I felt. It was happy. It made me happy to watch you, especially when you smiled," Joel's mouth curves into a small grin as if recalling a specific memory. "You got such a gorgeous smile. Makes your whole face light up."

You're openly gaping at him now. Shocked at these ready admissions of a truth hidden for so long. Confused at this softness, this tenderness.

"I've never seen someone smile so fucking much. Sarah would have just loved you. You and that friend, you smiled and laughed all the time." Joel grows somber, brows saddling. "But you don't smile half as much anymore.. is it cuz of me?"

Yes.

Because I hate that I want you.

"If it is... Tell me," Joel insists. "I don't wanna be the reason you stop smiling, pretty eyes. I'll leave you alone forever if it gets you smilin' again."

He's got puppy dog eyes now. Wide and sorrowful looking. They almost don't fit with the harsh planes of the rest of his face.

"Why do you call me that?" you ask exasperatedly. "Do you not remember my name or something?"

"Course I know your name," Joel says, whispering it now. The sound of it slides over your body like a silk sheet. "S'a beautiful name."

"So then why-"

"I call you pretty eyes because you see beauty in everything. Nature, animals, people. You always wanna help. You want the whole shitty world to be a better place," Joel is shaking his head. "You know how terrifying that is to someone who's given up?"

You don't know what to say.

Joel stands, reaching into his back pocket. He closes his eyes, wincing before he crosses over to you and forces something into your hands. You hold it to your face. It's a photograph, a small one, the kind you yourself used to get in school, sent home glossy and overpriced for your mom to purchase.

It's been folded, creased, lovingly looked at thousands of times, you can tell. It's of a young girl with bright eyes and a brighter smile. A girl with a dimple in her cheek that matches her father. Your finger traces the sweet curve of her face.

"That's Sarah," Joel tells you after a beat. "My daughter."

"She's beautiful."

“She was, yeah.”

Joel's face holds a myriad of emotions all at once. The most prominent of them all however is regret. There's a story there likely similar to your own. You hand him back the photo and he places it back in his pocket.

"I kept going after she was... Taken from me," Joel explains, obviously not wanting to use the real word. "I didn't wanna keep going. But I felt like I had to. I did what I thought I had to and I survived. And when I got here to Jackson I was all alone and all I could think was what was the point? What did I do all this for?"

You nod. Understanding more than you think he'll ever realize. Joel moves back to sit on the sofa, his body tense.

"I thought existing was enough. But then that night I caught you in my closet.... It's like I felt alive again. The good kind of alive- not just needing to live for survival. The kind of alive that has my heart hammerin' and my blood pounding. Makes food taste better for Christ's sake, I don't know how, but it does," Joel is going pink at his neck and cheeks.

"S'like you brought me back from the dead."

You feel the tension, the animosity, the agitation that has been tightening your muscles suddenly release at his words.

"I did?"

Joel nods and he doesn't move closer to you but you have a feeling he'd like to.

"The day after we... The first time," Joel has the good graces to look embarrassedly down at his shoes. "I thought it was better if I stayed away from you."

"Why?"

"Because I was ashamed of myself for how I'd treated you," Joel looks sick as he remembers it, eyes lowered. "But then I saw you that day in the shop lookin' at books and...I just... I was shaking when you walked by me but I just wanted to be near you. I just couldn't stop thinking about you."

You feel like your stomach is doing somersaults. You've never heard Joel talk so much. It makes your head spin. It makes the world feel tilted. Joel is looking at you, concern clear in his features.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," you croak, feeling your legs growing wobbly. You slowly lower yourself to the sofa. Joel joins you and you swallow when his knee brushes yours.

"I've done a lot of things," Joel says. "Things I'm not proud of. Things that someone like you shouldn't have to be around. But I wanted to be around you."

Joel takes a deep breath and you're surprised to see the sheen to his dark eyes. You allow his hand to slowly cover your knee, his thumb giving you soothing rubs.

"I thought about you every day."

Your heart is pounding at his husky admission. But then as those words settle within your mind you grow sullen.

"What about Tess?"

"You were suddenly all chummy with that Markus. The two of you looked like a couple n' you were always with your friend and her husband. You seemed happy and I didn't wanna interfere." Joel frowns. "I knew Tess from way back. Thought it made sense. Wanted it to work. But I couldn't stop thinkin' about you."

You make a scoffing sound.

"I really couldn't," Joel insists, his voice pained. "The night you left my place? I told her I was..." Joel swallows. "I told her there was someone else. She said she'd figured."

"Did you tell her we-"

"No," Joel shakes his head. "You can call me a coward if you want. But it seemed cruel to tell her. Almost as cruel as doin' it in the first place."

You nod in agreement.

"I was terrified when you weren't at home after that. Took a lot of askin' around to find out you were staying with your friend." Joel frowns, eyes limpid. "Was it cuz you didn't wanna see me?"

You can see real fear there in his eyes at your answer and you know that what you say next could potentially devastate him. But the anger you've been carrying around with you like a second skin has fled. Right now you want to be honest like him.

"Not completely," you answer truthfully, shifting uncomfortably on the sofa. "I was also scared I was pregnant."

Joel's head ducks slightly and his voice drops so lowly you don't hear what he mumbles. You ask him to repeat it and Joel exhales slowly.

"I was hopin' you were."

What. The. Fuck.

That was about the last thing you ever thought you'd hear from Joel Miller. You stare at him unblinking, unsure that you've heard him correctly. The entire lower half of his face is flushed, like he's just exposed his biggest secret. Which in a way, you suppose he has.

You think back to that night. Of Joel emptying himself into you with a groan and disgust crosses your features.

"Did you mean to-"

"Fuck no!" Joel answers, the truth immediately apparent in his horrified expression. "Just got carried away that night. No fuck, I would never ... No. Not on purpose. Not without talking to.. Was just after... when I was thinking about it that the idea just .. If it did happen... It maybe didn't seem so awful to me..."

"Jesus, Joel."

Joel nods, grimacing. "I know. I just. . . Thinking of you carrying my baby? Belly swollen and everyone knowing you were mine? That I made you a mama? I wanted it. Wanted that life. I know it was selfish, I know it's fucked up, but it's the truth. I'm trying to be as honest as possible here. No lyin'."

You hate the way this pulls at your lower belly. The desire that licks there. Joel wanting to put his claim on you in the most permanent way possible has you slick between your legs. Despite how fucked up it is, despite how wrong, you can't help but feel turned on.

What is wrong with me?

Logic and reason prevails and you feel your resolve strengthening. You tilt back from his hand on your knee, pulling your legs against your chest as you press against the arm at the other end of the sofa. Joel watches you retreat from him, face falling.

"Joel you just like fucking me." You spread your arms wide. "That's all this has ever been."

"For you maybe," Joel shakes his head. "S'not just that. Not for me."

"How would you know?"

"Cuz I wanna spend time with you," Joel explains, bright eyes on yours. "Be near you. Not just fucking."

You don't know what else to say. How would you ever know if that was true? Too much has happened between the two of you.

"Can I show you?"

You glance up at Joel, brows raised. Show you?

"Show me what?"

"What I wanted more than anything since the last time I saw you?"

It's a trick. A way to let him further into your home. Payback for what you did to him.

No no no. Don't let this happen again you fool.

And yet you barely hesitate. After everything he's confessed to you there is no ire left in you.

"Okay."

Joel's sudden smile is wide and warm and so damn grateful that it pulls at your heartstrings. He stands, holding his hand out to you. You look at his palm briefly before you take it, feeling as his large, warm hand wraps around yours.

He holds you tightly and the both of you pad upstairs. The stairs creak under your combined weight but you barely hear it over the rush of blood roaring in your ears.

Joel is in your house. Joel is touching you. Joel is being tender. Joel Joel Joel. The man you couldn't stop thinking about. The man you hate yourself for wanting because he’s so cold. But tonight he’s so warm.

You reach the threshold of your bedroom and stop, looking at him curiously. He gives a nod, silently asking for your trust.

Despite everything you give it, walking into your bedroom and waiting as he follows you.

"Where's your nightclothes?"

You point to a dresser drawer. He nods, going over to it and pulling it open. You watch in quiet fascination as he pulls out a pale yellow nightdress with ruffles at the shoulders.

"S'pretty," he murmurs looking at it. "You like this one?"

"Yeah."

You're confused when he takes your hand in his again and walks you to the bathroom. The wide, aged tub in there is turned on. A luxury you don't often take advantage of because you prefer showers.

While the warm water is filling, Joel places the nightgown beside the sink. He turns to you and you can see him take a nervous inhale.

"Can I undress you?"

Again you barely hesitate. You nod and he closes the distance between you.

His blunted fingers move slowly over the buttons of your cardigan, your skirt. You watch Joel's face the entire time, taking in the way his mouth twists lightly to the side as he concentrates. He undresses you with quiet patience, his eyes warm and soft. Your clothes are slipped gently from your body, folded (much to your gentle amusement) and placed on the counter next to the nightdress.

You watch him take a deep inhale before his hands skim around your bra to unhook it. Your breasts fall, released from the cotton fabric. Joel looks at your flushed face, his breathing shuddering. But he slips the bra off your shoulders and places it with the rest.

Your heart is thundering in your chest. You feel your nipples tightening as his eyes fall over them, a look of reverence in his features. You wait for his mouth to descend, or his hands to knead them.

But instead his fingers come to rest on your hips, thumbs curling around the band of your panties. You feel your breath growing uneven at the thought of being completely bared to him. He hears it, registers it and his dark eyes flit to yours.

"This still okay?"

You nod, trying to steady your breath. Joel smiles, eyes going to your mouth. You know he wants to kiss you but instead he blinks and lowers himself to kneel in front of you.

There on his knees before you, like you're his own personal altar, Joel slowly begins slipping your panties down your thighs, your calves, until you step out of them with your hand on his shoulder for balance.

Finally you stand there in front of him naked. You feel vulnerable and turned on all at once. He's still kneeling, eyes drifting everywhere as if he's trying to memorize you. Your face heats as his wide eyes slide over every piece of exposed flesh.

His finger trails over the scar at your ribs, unseen to him before now. His eyes go to your face as he stands, hand coming to drift over your cheek.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he murmurs huskily. But he doesn't make any further move to touch you.

You think that this is what he's been after since you arrived back home. That he's just wanting to fuck somewhere new. That this was an elaborate way to break down your barriers. You fold your arms over your breasts, hand coming to hide your sex.

You watch in confused silence as Joel strips as well, tugging off his shirt and jeans and boxers until he's standing there in front of you naked, his cock semi hard. He stands waiting, letting you have your turn at gawking. Despite the vulnerability of his nakedness, be excudes a powerful dominance, his frame large.

His masculine body is beautiful, his shoulders broad and the skin golden and littered with pale scars. You can't help but touch the swell of his biceps, fingers trailing over and down to his wrist. He shivers when you touch him and you see his cock hardening. He goes to cover himself.

"You're gorgeous," you blurt, heart swelling when you see him give a shy grin at your words. He tilts his head away from you, his face pinking. Shy.

Joel Miller is shy.

The tub is full now and Joel turns the tap to stop. He steps in first, testing the heat before holding a beckoning hand to you. With a quirked brow you take it, allowing him to lower you both to sit in the tub. You go in front and his long legs go to either side of you.

You marvel at the gold skin of his legs and the dark hair that grows there. This skin, previously a mystery shown to you up close. You can't stop yourself from reaching a hand to his ankle and brushing the delicate bone there. His damp hand skims up your spine, he too marveling at this new piece of you exposed to him.

Eventually he urges your back against his chest and you let out a small whisper of a groan his fingers come to your neck and begin to massage.

"This okay?"

"Mhmmm."

You go boneless as Joel's hands work your neck and shoulders as the water surrounds you. The warm bath feels so good and Joel's touch is so comforting.

Finally his hands are removed, once more going to urge your back against his front. He holds you loosely, fingers trailing over your forearm.

You sit for several moments in the quietly lapping water, feeling Joel's chest constrict and expand as he breathes behind you. Your eyes fall shut, lulled by your surroundings and you hear him fumbling with a bottle before you hear the squeeze of your shampoo bottle.

His wide hands go to drag the shampoo through your hair. The sensation of his fingers carding through your tresses makes every hair on your body stand on end in pleasure.

"You've got beautiful hair," Joel says softly, marveling at it as he rubs your scalp. "Thought so the first time I saw you."

You think of that day with the book when Joel had approached you, when he had smoothed a wayward strand of your hair between his fingers.

"Thanks."

You go limp against him, body melting into his light touch. When he talks it reverberates through your back. You muse that you could fall asleep like this. His chin grazes the top of your head.

"You enjoy that Jane Eyre book?"

He speaks gently as if he doesn't want to disturb your serenity.

"Yeah I did," you say smiling genuinely. "It was one of my favorite books from before."

"Mine too."

This surprises you a moment that he remembered until you recall the books he was going to lend you months ago. He'd had so many that you yourself had loved.

Joel seems so closed off, a hermit, almost a luddite in your mind. But he plays beautiful music and he reads wonderful books. There's so much to uncover about him.

"What do you think is Bradbury's best work?"

"Easy," you can feel Joel smiling behind you as he continues lathering. "Fahrenheit 451."

"You're crazy," you insist with an amused laugh. "It's the Martian Chronicles!"

"Never," Joel insists with a playful tug of your hair. "I bet you'll say Dandelion Wine was good."

"It was!" You insist, craning your head to face him with a faux outraged expression. He's grinning back down at you, his face glowing in the gentle light of the sunset outside the window.

"S'okay," he murmurs with his soft eyes sweeping over your face. "We don't have to agree on everything."

You nod, and he turns his attention to the pitcher next to the bathtub.

"Tilt your head back, pretty eyes."

You do so, eyes closing as Joel scoops water up into the jug and rinses the shampoo from your hair.

You feel at ease here in the water with Joel, you both just existing in the gentle warmth. You wish you could straighten your body out over him. You feel like a cat longing to stretch out in a sunbeam.

It makes you feel soft and gentle towards Joel. You find yourself wanting to know more about him, about the life he had before everything went to shit.

"What did you do before everything?"

"Contractor." His fingers make sure not to miss a strand of your hair with the water. "Tommy n' I had our own company."

He tells you a bit about the construction company, about how it was fun and exhausting being his own boss. It's easy to imagine Joel hammering away at wood planking, driving a beat up old truck down some winding streets.

He asks you about yours and you muse that the only job you had before the outbreak was working at a video store.

"Must be why you like those movie nights here," Joel muses. You look up at him, grinning, delighted that he remembers this fact about you.

"Yeah."

His eyes drift lazily down from your eyes to your mouth and you know what he wants because now you want it too. Desperately.

He won't make the first move, you can tell. So it's you that tilts up to press your lips against his. You feel your entire body tingle as he sighs against you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders from behind.

It's a sweet, soft thing that ends with him pulling back and pressing another gentle kiss to your cheek and forehead before he moves back to working on your hair.

You talk quietly back and forth about life before the outbreak. He tells you that Sarah always fell asleep during movies, even the ones she picked out. He tells you that he was almost married but then his fiancée backed out and left him with his infant daughter. You tell him that your sister was your favorite person. You tell him that your first kiss was under the bleachers at school.

When he begins to massage the conditioner into your scalp your head falls back and you let out a whimpered moan. It feels heavenly to be cared for like this. You've never had this.

At the first strains of your cry you feel Joel's cock hardening further against your lower back. Arousal pools in your belly and your hand moves under the water, instinctively going to grip him. He twitches at the contact.

"Not tonight, pretty eyes," Joel murmurs, gently urging your hand off of him and pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

You continue sitting there between his legs confused as he rinses the last of the conditioner from your hair, his hardened cock pressed between your bodies.

He's hard and he doesn't want you to touch him?

He shampoos and rinses his own hair before he stands, pulling you from the water tenderly by the hand. He drains the tub, moving to grab your towel from the hook by the door.

With a softness you didn't expect from him, Joel gently towels you off, drying each inch of your flesh before tugging your nightdress on over your body.

He pulls on his boxers before you both pad back to your bedroom. He pulls back the covers of the bed, urging you to crawl in. You do so and you look expectantly up at him, noticing his hesitation as he lowers the blankets around you, tucking you in. He takes a moment to look at you, cheeks pink from the steam of the bath, eyes sleepy.

He leans over, kissing you full on the mouth in a way that's all sweet. It's a kiss of tenderness that has you exhaling into his mouth.

This version of Joel is so fucking appealing. This open, soft Joel that talks to you about everything. This Joel that touches you with no aim other than to make you feel good and cherished.

"I'm gonna get dressed and go," he says in a whisper as he pulls back from your lips. His knuckles trace your cheek as he smiles serenely down at you. "Can I see you tomorrow?"

You realize that the bath, that tenderness is what he'd wanted. He hadn't been expecting sex at all and for that reason alongside many others, you want him to stay. You reach out from under the covers, grabbing his wrist.

"I don't want you to go."

He pauses, his dark eyes scanning yours. He's hesitant and you know that he's worried you'll see this evening as transactional when you know it's been anything but.

"I want you to stay, Joel."

Joel contemplates a while longer before he finally nods. He pulls back the covers, climbing between the sheets beside you. He's warm from the bath and you instinctively snuggle back against him. His arms eagerly wrap around you and in them you feel a security you haven’t felt in decades.

Joel strokes your arm absently, kissing your shoulder only once before his head is back on the pillow, the two of you watching the moon hanging low in the sky. From where you lay you can see the roof of Joel's house. You think of how this started and you hold in a laugh.

"Sometimes I'd watch your house as I was falling asleep," he tells you, feeling bold in the darkness. "If your light was on I felt like everything was okay in the world. S'like your light was my moon."

You smile at that. Under the covers you're both warm, your hair damp. It feels domestic, not rushed or dirty. It makes you feel vulnerable as your bodies press next to one another in the bed.

You look behind you at Joel in the blue darkness, your hand brushing an errant curl from his forehead as you twist to face him. Your mouth finds his again and you sigh as your lips move against one another.

You assume that this is when he'll fuck you or at least make gentle love to you, but he does neither. He just holds you, bringing you against his body and curling around you, as if he's protecting you from the elements. It seems natural to him, to be a protector.

"You told me you weren't a good man," you whisper to him in the darkness. "But I think you might be."

"I'm not. I've done terrible things," Joel grimaces. "You know firsthand."

He strokes your hair, hand heavy before he continues.

"I'm so sorry for how I treated you. I.... I didn't know how to act. I'd wanted you so fucking long and you were there and I couldn't help myself. But s'not a good reason. I was a fucking asshole. I don't blame you for hating me."

"I don't hate you Joel," you say with honesty. "Don't hate anyone, really."

"That's what I lo- like about you," Joel says, voice catching. "Not a mean bone in your body."

"I dunno about that," you shrug. "Took great pleasure in refusing to dance with you the other night."

You can hear Joel smile at that behind you. "S'okay. I deserved it."

The silence stretches on a little longer.

"I'd say yes," you say in a quiet voice. "If you asked me again."

Joel doesn't reply, but he pulls you tighter against him, burying his face in your damp hair.

You've never slept with someone in this bed. You think that it will be a hardship and you're shocked at how easily you fold into his embrace, how calm you feel and you drift into a peaceful slumber.

When you wake up the next morning he's still asleep, dark lashes fanned over caramel cheeks. His arm is slung over your waist, as if in sleep he's worried about you leaving.

You watch him breathing slowly, his full mouth parted. You think that he looks so peaceful like this, so open. You can't help yourself and you graze a kiss against his lips.

Joel's eyes flutter open to see you staring at him with glossy eyes. His mouth curls into a sleepy smile and he brushes his knuckles against the curve of your cheek.

"Mornin' pretty eyes."

His voice is low and rumbling with sleep. It's a sound that feels good in your ear. A sound that travels down between your legs and pulses.

You kiss him again, a little longer this time. His hand is at your jaw, holding you lightly. There's no harshness in how he touches you now. You pull back, resting your head on the pillow next to his.

You both gaze at one another, eyes locked. You think you can see eternity in the dark galaxy of his gaze.

There's something about this moment that feels safe to you. Safety. And something else. Something that feels too early to speak aloud. A feeling that eluded you for so long. Tears spring along your waterline.

"Joel .. I-" you don't know what to say or how to say it. But Joel understands because he feels the same. His smile turns serious and you watch as his own dark eyes begin to grow damp.

"I know, baby," Joel rumbles. "I know."

With tears in your eyes your mouth seeks his out again, your hands going to his bare shoulders and gripping.

He holds you against his chest, both of you kissing for what feels like hours. He holds your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks. As if he's trying to atone for all those times he never kissed you, never cherished you properly.

"I want you," Joel murmurs against your ear as you nestle against him. "Want you to read with me on my couch in front of the fire and sit next to me at those movie nights. I want everyone to know you're my girl. Wanna make up for all those times I was an idiot. Wanna make you laugh and smile like you used to. Can I?”

Your heart expands, your own hands cupping his cheeks. This man that you've wanted, that you've denied yourself wanting. He's looking at you with those big eyes, the ones that often seem so sad and so serious.

"I want that too," you murmur. "Want you to teach me guitar too. Promise I won't hide it anymore."

Joel grins against your lips, recalling how all of this first began. He licks into your mouth as you whimper, the desire for him overwhelming you. There will be more discussions, more moments where Joel will fight to prove himself worthy of you. But for right now you simply want him.

Languid movements against each other turn into both sets of hands seeking bare flesh and moments later after your gentle urging of a condom into his hand, Joel raises himself above you, mouth on yours as he slides between your thighs slow and sweet, murmuring how much he wants you, adores you. His voice holds you, warms you as you keen, arching against him.

He takes his time, brushing the thankful tears from your eyes with his lips. You kiss his away from the corner of his eyes. He watches your body move underneath his with awe, as if he's actually seeing you for the first time. In a way it's like you both are.

And much like the bath last night Joel holds you tenderly, makes you feel beloved. He doesn't take, he just gives, over and over kissing praises into your skin, pressing devotion between your legs.

"I want you to take it," he whispers against your neck as your thighs bracketing his hips begin to tremble. "It's all for you, pretty eyes. Everything."

You know what he means.

When you two fall back against your pillow breathing unsteadily a short while later you can't help but smile in disbelief. You tilt your head to see that Joel is doing the same and you roll into his waiting arms, giggling.

Your window stays unlocked after that.

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller #dad joel miller #fanfic #fanfiction #pedro pascal #smut #mean!joel #dark!joel x reader #dark!joel #dark!joel miller

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chososdiscordkitten · 3 months

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Obsessive!Choso♡ pt 11

pt 10 here

Content: direct cont of last chap, reader wears heels, implied reader has boobies O-O, soooo much hand holding it should be considered lewd, 2 pics to help see what I picture (underlined text), date hehe, reader wouldn't mind if Choso kidnapped them 0-0, they play battle ship, jokingly implied Choso is an escort(?), reader is kinda mean, reassurance, idk just my usual bs??? just reader nd Choso being cute man what else can I say. Word Count: 11.9k (wtf, im sorry)

(a.n) this was so long, I know, pls excuse any mistakes- I underestimated how hard it was to edit something longer than 5k words. ALSO???? take this as a celebration of me hitting 1k followers!! yayyy

Taglist: @eristi @sunaumi @ex-ria @just-pure-trash @kha-0s @iluvreinah @iamboredowo @integers @waytootiredforthisss @1arminsimp @hannas16 @chosowhore @tojicvmslut @ofalcaodacolinablue @thesharkcollector @mochipip @hotvillianapologist @ziklope @saeline @morinuu @b3llair3 @24hrnanami

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After you left his apartment, Choso’s mind blared with the possibility of you being kidnapped- only to find solace in the small red dot blinking on his phone. Cautious eyes watching as he expected it to move- but no. It stayed still at a restaurant right outside of campus. Choso wanted to desperately leave behind those incessant urges to follow you- to make sure you were safe.

Knowing that his day of reckoning would come. Choso knew that if he kept following you- the day would come when you’d see him. And he wanted to trust you now that things were starting to advance.

There was nothing he wanted more than to trust you, to trust that you could take care of yourself-

But everytime he’d try to ignore the blaring ‘warning’ signs in his mind. He’d remember every time he watched you walk home without caution, every horror story he read of people getting kidnapped and trafficked- and on the occasions where Choso couldn't shake off the invading thoughts, your voice would haunt his mind.

Overwhelming his brain as he tried to focus on what you were saying- your whispering voice making his brain pound in his skull as he watched that blinking dot.

Choso had to call you- if he couldn't run out of his apartment and find you- the least he could do was call you. Feeling like one of your clingy ‘friends’ as the phone rang, his pointer finger picking at the side of his thumb as he closed his eyes. All but praying for you to answer, opening his eyes as he heard the receiver being picked up,

“I was just thinking about you-” he spoke, hearing your angelic laugh ring through his ears. ‘I left like 20 minutes ago.’ you teased, “I know-” he mumbled “What're you doing?” he continued, not in the mood to dance around what he wanted to hear, ‘uh- I'm at..lunch with a friend.’ you hesitated. –

‘What're you doing, Choso?’ you asked, confused as to where this was going. Choso let out a half laugh from his chest. “M’sitting in the dark thinking about you.” he professed, pressing his hand to his forehead and hearing you laugh at the serious tone he took. ‘Sounds healthy.’ you joked back with a playful tone, closing his eyes and thinking. Your tone was kind- speaking sweetly as you normally did. But. You hesitated.

The same way you hesitate whenever you refer to him as your friend.

“M’sorry. I just wanted to hear your voice.” he sniffled, “Tell your friend I say hi.” hearing your smile when you replied a quick ‘Okay.’ at his request.

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The conversation of the date was a rough one. Sitting in his apartment as you played chess. The timing was horrible- sure. The econd week of February left an unavoidable holiday sitting in front of you. “We can wait...till after if you want.” he offered a solution as he moved a pawn.

“It's not so much the day for me.” you admitted, scanning the wooden chest pieces on your side of the checkerboard. “If you want- we can wait till after.” rephrasing his words as you watched his eyebrows furrow, “S’the same for me.” mentally chanting ‘pleasepleasepleaseplease’ as you pondered.

And with those words- the date was set for Valentines day. Which made Choso believe there really was a god from how well this turned out. And you're thinking of moving out from that house full of idiots- and into the small apartment complex as his neighbor.

For the first time in Choso’s life he felt like life dealt him a good hand.

When it came to actually thinking about what to do- he didn't want to ask you. Knowing you were indecisive on what you were eating for lunch that day- so he didn't want to plague you with planning a date he owed you. Checking his bank account and barely seeing enough for a stack of pancakes in the town diner.

Choso contemplated it. He thought about it over and over again, weighing the pros and cons in his mind before going into his closet and reaching into a pair of boots that were 3 sizes too small for him. Finding the thinning wad of cash he was looking for. The so-called ‘rainy day fund’ thinned every time he ran out of money for the month.

But this was worth it, you, were worth it. So he pulled the rubber band from the roll of cash, slowly counting the bills in his hands to be sure he didn't miss count.

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The next time you saw Choso you asked him what his plan was- “Just be ready by 7.” he smiled to himself, already picturing you on that day.

Furrowing your eyebrows before speaking, “Well-” you scoffed “what are we doing?”

“It's a surprise.” he grinned, looking down at the stupid game you called ‘Candy Land’

You sighed dramatically, “Choso, I hate surprises.” as you stared at the little pieces of plastic on the colorful board. “Atleast tell me what to wear.” you insisted, seeing his lips flash a pearly smile to you.

“Wear whatever you want- I’m sure you’ll look great.” he scoffed, holding the little piece of plastic between his fingers, making it hop as he counted the squares.

“Well if you're taking me to a nice restaurant and I'm wearing a t-shirt nd jeans- not gonna be very fun. Or if you're taking me to a horse race-” Choso laughed at your assumptions, “And I open the door in a dress and heels? Then what?” you threw the possibilities at him as he smiled at your nervousness.

“It's a first date- I wanna make a good impression.” You mused, earning a half laugh from his chest. “C’mon-” you batted your eyelashes at him, trying to convince him to tell you what he was planning.

Nodding his head at your coercion that was working better than you thought, “You're terrible.” he whispered, making your pouting grin turn into a toothy smile. “Wear something nice-” he avoided your eyes, moving the character on the squares again as you listened carefully, “Bring a coat- weather app says it's gonna be cold.” He instructed.

“Do I eat beforehand?” you grinned, seeing his jaw clench at your question, “Hmm- No.” you smiled at how a few pleads convinced him to tell you.

“How nice should I dress then?” pressing the issue with a winning smile on your face as you moved your plastic character, pleased at how easily he was to convince. “Atleast tell me that.” Choso looked at you and pondered the question, before nodding his head ‘no’. Knowing he's already said too much.

You pouted playfully at his denial, “Just a hint- just oneee.” seeing his eyes look over your face, “I’ll even settle for one word.” he thought of a word to use, staring at you as he skimmed through words in his mind.

“Wear something- striking.” he squinted as he settled on the word.

With raised eyebrows you started, “Striking huh?” in a teasing tone the choice of word he used, “Must be some first date to wear something striking.” your borderline bullying caused Choso to regret his choice of telling you anything.

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On the 13th of february, just one day before your date- Choso facetimed his baby brother Yuuji, knowing out of all 9, he was probably the best one to call about this delicate topic.

“What about this?” he holding a black knit sweater to his chest while looking at the screen, Yuuji let out a snicker- ‘If you like it-’ his tone was snide- almost mockingly as Choso tossed the knit onto his bed, staring at the pile of clothing that he had gone through.

Showing him a band t-shirt from one of his drawers and hearing Yuuji let out a small laugh before he tossed the t-shirt on his already messy bed. “You're no help.”

‘M’not here to helppp-’ Yuuji droned on, “That's precisely why I called you, Yuuji.” Choso retorted in a stern tone, not enjoying the game his brother was trying to play, slipping on a black dress shirt and doing up the tiny buttons.

‘Didn't you wear that to your graduation?’ he heard from the phone with a half laugh forming in his brother's words. “Can you tell?” straightening his back and seeing the fabric flex against his chest and shoulders, ‘Looks a lil tight buddy.’ Yuuji held back a laugh, being able to see the buttons strain and form small openings down his chest.

With an exasperated sigh he looked back to the mess on his bed, “I don't know what to wear.”

‘The dark navy button down you wore to parent teacher conferences and black slacks.’ Yuuji spat quickly, ‘Hey when am I gonna meet this person?’ Smiling as he changed the topic, “When you stop being so nosy.” Choso muttered, looting through his closet and finding the button up Yuuji was talking about.

Unbuttoning the taut buttons and slipping off the small shirt. Tossing it onto the pile of discarded options before slipping on the better fitting dress shirt, doing up the small buttons and looking in the mirror, ‘I'm not nosy-’ Yuuji laughed, ‘Excuse me for trying to find out who’s involved in my big brothers life-’ enunciating the words. Attempting to make Choso feel bad for scolding him.

“If you ever come out here- I'll introduce them to you.” he looked at the top two buttons that were undone, trying to decide whether or not to do them.

‘I'm on the next flight out.’ Yuuji quipped, making Choso scoff.

“No Yuuji. Go to school.” Choso demanded, knowing he was skipping more than a handful of classes. ‘One day I’ll fly out there and you won't be able to say no to me till I’m standin’ at your door.’ Yuuji threatened, Choso offered only a sarcastic ‘haha’ in response.

‘How you got a date before I got a girlfriend is still insane to me.’ he pressed, “Why’s that Yuuji?” rolling up the sleeves of the dress shirt as he looked in the mirror.

Yuuji laughed- knowing just what to do to annoy his older brother, ‘Cause you're so… weird.’ Yuuji struggled to say the words through a bully-like smile, “For your information- brother of the year,” Choso snapped playfully, which surprised Yuuji since Choso was never the type to banter- not because he didn't want to. But his quips would always come out in stutters, never being able to come up with smart replies fast enough.

Choso smiled as he recalled your slurred words,“They like that I'm ‘strange’.” Yuuji chirped from the phone, ‘They tell you that?’ with a sarcastic tone.

Looking at Yuuji with a cocky smile, “They did.” earning for his baby brother to raise his eyebrows in feigned shock, ‘The world is so backwards.’ he scoffed before asking more questions about you.

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Choso wanted to make tonight special, he wanted to make this the last first date you ever went on.

So as he looked at himself in the mirror, putting on his many rings and muttering words of encouragement to himself, hands shaking as he rolled up the sleeves of his dark navy blue dress shirt. Trying not to nitpick any detail that he didn't like about the reflection staring back at him- whispering that even if he was ‘strange and off putting’ you still liked him.

Side eyeing the clear bowl shaped vase that held three white lilies, Choso felt nerves eating away at him as his eyes flashed down to his phone that lit up with a message from you.

‘lmk when ur outside :)’ your message read. If only you knew Choso’s stomach was in knots. A specific kind of anxiety he had never felt before, it almost felt like how your stomach churned while in line for a scary rollercoaster for the first time.

He quickly typed, ‘im omw now’ with trembling thumbs.

So as he put on the torn up carhartt jacket he relied on whenever it was cold, he straightened his back as he held the clear vase in his hand- Choso hesitated to turn the doorknob of his apartment. Thinking on if this was a good idea- a million doubts racing in his mind.

But he only needed one thought to pull him from his doubts. All he needed was to remember you to open the door.

The walk across the lively campus full of people carrying bouquets of red roses and overcompensating stuffed animals made him think that maybe the three lilies were not enough- Till the realization that he was actually taking you out on Valentine's day hit, which only made him even more nervous, the pondering thoughts of ‘am I making a fool of myself?’ making him overheat in the heavy jacket. Choso must've taken it off and put it back on 2 or 3 times before he reached your neighborhood.

Standing on your rundown porch, thinking about ringing the doorbell. Those doubts daring to creep back into his mind, but his hesitant finger pressed the button anyway. Holding the bowl in both hands as he heard muffled shouts through the heavy wood door. He watched the brass handle turn before the door cracked open- his eyes being granted the honor of seeing you.

‘Breathtaking’ was the word his mind formulated once he felt air fill his lungs again.

Choso swore that every single time he looked at you, it felt like the first time. But this time- this, took the cake. This would be the mental image he’d remember every time he thought of you. The nerves and unease he felt in his chest melted away when he saw the warmth of your smile.

His eyes blinked quickly- almost in disbelief as he looked at you, so love drunk it hurt his chest a little.

And you, bent to the side and fiddling with the tiny buckle of your heel. To Choso it felt like you came straight out of his teenage dreams as you looked at him.

Smiling as you uttered the word that was stuck in his throat, with a hurried smile you spoke, “Heyy-” before placing your foot back onto the ground as you stepped back with a quiet gasp, looking at the bowl in his hands. “Come in!” you urged sweetly, seeing his eyes scan your frame, darting to your living room that was full of your gawking roommates and their friends. ‘An anti-valentines day movie night’ you called it.

“Thought I told you to tell me you were outside-” you grinned, standing at the entryway of the house. ‘God, you are haunting.’ You looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to reply. Unknowing your roommates were ignoring the movie on the living room tv. Furrowing your eyebrows as you looked at the round vase in his hands.

“T-these are for you.” He muttered, his heart racing at an abominable speed by seeing you grin kindly before your smile fell.

It turned into a grimace, “I have something for you too-” looking back up at the stairs you practically fell down when the doorbell rang. Turning back around to face him. Taking the bowl from his extended hands with a prolonged touch, “They're lovely. Thank you.” you smiled, “Stay right here- I'll be right back.” You hushed, turning around and dashing up the stairs.

Choso stood at the doorway, almost mournful knowing the sight of you that greeted him would only exist in his memory now. Fiddling with his rings as he felt the people's eyes burn through him. Unintelligible whispers from the prying gazes. Gulping as he heard your bedroom door slam shut, urging footsteps on the ground as you hurried down the stairs. Both hands held behind your back as you hid his present.

A silly smile on your lips as you looked at him, the thin heel of your shoes clacking on the tile as you stood before him, reaching your arm around as you a box with a small bow on top. Raising his eyebrows and looking at the box holding a pair of white glass plates inside. “Plates?” he smiled defeated at the present as you tried to suppress a small laugh.

Your shoulders moved in a silent laugh as you watched his eyes flash back up to you, “Yes. Plates.” seeing him exhale through his nose, amused at what a coincidence it was that you bought him them.

“Thank you.” He mumbled softly, already being able to picture using them.

Choso held the box in one hand, looking at you with adoring eyes, you cleared your throat, “Striking enough?” you sneered proudfully. He practically choked on air at your question.

He took a second to look at you, trying to find the correct thing to say, “You look beautiful.” he breathed softly, words that came straight from his heart. Mentally he was shouting any word he thought of when he looked at you. Words that are not to be said on a ‘first date’, confessions of yearning love and descriptive words of how he felt about you.

‘Captivating.’ Choso thought as he admired your features that were accentuated by the warm lighting, almost casting a glow on your skin.

You felt the warmth in your cheeks trail to the tip of your nose at the compliment. ‘Thank y-’ you mouthed silently, being interrupted by a loud over exaggerated cough coming from the living room.

Squinting your eyes as you turned around to face the source, “When did you say you'd be home?” one of your roommates spouted from the couch.

“I didn't.” You spoke with a raised tone laced with irritation, scoffing before walking into the living room. Focused on your coat that was draped on the edge of the couch.

Their eyes looked up at you as though you owed them something, “Where's he taking you?” desperate to keep you home.

You raised your eyebrows before you spoke, “No idea.”, reaching your hands into the pockets of your coat to be sure you had what you needed.

Picking it up from the couch before turning around and speed walking back to Choso, looking at him with an urgent look on your face. “Let's go.” you whispered as you reached for the doorknob, “It's not safe to go to an undisclosed location with a stranger-!” your roommate shouted as you stepped through the doorway. Sighing as you pulled the door behind you.

“Sorry about that.” you breathed, inhaling the cold air as you scanned the cloudy overcast with squinted eyes and creased eyebrows.

Choso inhaled sharply before he spoke, “Was that-”

“Yes, that was my den mother.” with a scoff, Choso parted his lips in a silent wince as you slipped your coat onto your exposed shoulders. Reaching a hand down and raising your ankle halfway to tweak with the strap of your heel again.

“Lead the way.” you smiled as Choso took a step forward onto the rickety stairs.

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“Can you tell me where you're taking me now?” You sounded almost defeated as you walked side by side on the pavement. Choso made sure that he was on the open side of the sidewalk, walking between you and the potential risk.

Quiet streets derived from people made the walk peaceful, the sunless sky causing everything to look pale blue- almost as though you stepped through a blue tinted filter.

The weather was fresh- cold enough for a coat but not freezing the way it was a few days ago. A small breeze would have made you regret your choice in what you wore- your calves and ankles exposed to the frigid air.

Looking over at him as he held the boxed plates, with a smug grin on his lips, “We have to go pick something up first.” you hummed at Choso’s denial as his rundown oxford-esque shoes stomped on the ground.

Seeing an opportunity to wear down that smugness, you looked at him with an unashamed smile. “You look beautiful too, Choso.” circling back to his compliment that was interrupted by your roommate. He looked over to you- not shocked but surprised at your choice of words, despite the gloomy weather- you looked warm in his eyes. As though the sun was shining and it was the middle of summer.

He sighed as he felt your shoulder brush against his, “I don't think I’ve ever been called that.” he admitted honestly with a flustered smile.

You laughed, “I can call you something else-” with an enthusiastic grin, looking up into the sky as you thought of the words to use, “How about- scenic. Or uh, captivating-” watching the blush on his cheeks trail onto his exposed ear.

Choso’s teeth stuttered as he heard you- trying to silence the sudden compliment, “My name is fine.” He insisted with a nervous laugh, trying his best to ignore your gaze.

You raised your eyebrows, “Are you sure? I can keep going-”

“Ju-” he breathed, “Just Choso is fine.” he implored, his heart racing at an unimaginable speed.

You were pleased with his stutter, “Okay. ‘Just Choso’, where are you taking me?” grazing the back of your palm against his as you walked, his eyes on the ground watching the lines on the pavement come and go.

Choso sighed, “I already told you- We. Are going. To pick. Something up.” He paused between the words as though that was an answer, flinching when you bumped your knuckles into his as you strolled beside him.

“Don't take that tone with me, mister.” you teased playfully, holding your knuckles against his as you saw him perk a smile.

“Sorry-” he grinned as he looked over at you sweetly, “We’re gonna go pick something up.” he corrected himself, smiling at the sugared words, not moving his hand from yours- if anything pressing it closer.

With a sigh you took the initiative and interlocked your fingers with his, your cool hand icing his warm palm, “If you're gonna kidnap me- let me know. Promise I won't fight back or anything.” you joked, making Choso shiver at your accusation.

With a grimace he hesitated the words he was about to say, “That is a terrible and equally horrifying thing to say,” he spoke your name in a reprimanding tone.

“I mean in the way that life sucks right now, and you're a pretty cool person. And you're nice, and tolerate me.” squinting your eyes at the sudden frost-like breeze puff against your bare shins.

Your circling hum on the side of his pointer finger made this conversation suddenly very difficult for him to focus on. “Just don't put me in a glass cage. That's all I ask.” You continued the unsettling topic as you squeezed his hand.

Choso laughed at the reference, “You see,” being able to conjure the words in his mind. “I had reason to worry about you getting kidnapped.” he murmured, mentally damning you for putting that thought into his head again.

“That's different though.” you hummed, tilting your head towards him. “Of course if it was a stranger I’d fight tooth and nail-” a playful grin on your lips, watching his eyebrows slowly pull upwards. “But, if it was you?” you continued, feeling his palm subtly start to clam against yours.

Choso looked over at you- waiting for you to finish what you were saying. The troubled expression on his face made you smile at how easy it was to fluster him.

Shaking away the words in your mind, the sky dimming as you clutched onto his hand, you let out a ‘tsk’ at the thought, “Now that would be something quite forward to say.” you grinned playfully.

‘Your smile hides your mischievousness a little too well- I think you're just being cruel at this point.’ he thought as he looked at your profile. A proud smile adorning your lips.

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“A parking garage?” you asked, twitching your ankle as you watched Choso input a security code into the metal receiver.

Choso sucked his teeth with a smile, “Did you expect us to walk for the entire night?” looking down to your shoe that was clearly bothering you.

“You have a car?” you asked as you watched the metal gate creak open.

He winced, “Technically no-” hand in hand as he led you through the barrier of the two story garage. Walking up the sloped concrete as you looked at the dusty cars.

“I didn't even know this place existed.” You muttered, eyeing the gray walls illuminated by old yellow lights. Swinging your connected hands softly as Choso laid eyes upon the black car cover he hoped was waiting for him.

“Let's hope it still runs.” he joked as you let go of his hand.

“Hold these for me won't you?” he whispered, handing you the cardboard box as you tapped your heeled foot on the ground, causing Choso to look down at your ankle once more.

Placing his hands on the front end of the cover, yanking it off as you laid eyes on the two seater maroon colored classic. Almost perfectly polished as you raised your eyebrows in shock, his hands balling up the black car cover and placing it on the hood haphazardly.

He inhaled almost painfully, “It was my father’s-” as he inserted the key into the driver's side and turned it, unlocking the doors before walking to the passenger side and opening the door with a hand held out to you.

Taking the boxed plates from your hands and placing them on the roof of the car, holding your hand as you eased into the vehicle.

Connected matte black seats meeting your eyes as you eased into the seat. Silent as he nervously tried explaining why he had the car, “H-he left it behind- and I didn’t wanna leave it to be sold.” He smiled, looking down at you as he held the frame of the door.

“So you brought it with you?” You hummed, fiddling with your hands on your lap and looking at the interior.

“I stole it- yes.” he admitted without shame, leaning on the frame of the opened door.

Pulling off his jacket as your hands reached out to take it from him, a small ‘Thank you’ fell from his lips as you held it in your lap. His lips parted in a grin, looking at your expression as you pinched your eyebrows together. Reaching your hand down to the bothersome buckle that squeezed your ankle a little too tightly.

Your fingers struggled to fix the issue as he watched you. Flashing your eyes up at him with an awkward giggle before you spoke, “When you rang the doorbell I accidentally pulled the-” You sighed, trying to pull the black strap from the bothersome buckle, “-the strap too tight.”

Choso smiled before mouthing an understanding ‘oh’

“May I?” he asked, frustration starting to seep from you and into him by just watching your aimless attempts. You eyed him, lowering himself to his knee, the other propped up as you turned your body to face him.

Suddenly all too aware of the veins on the tops of his hands, the light arm hair on his outer forearms that were exposed from his rolled up sleeves.

His calloused hand held open awaiting you to lift your dangling foot to his palm. Without a word, you lifted your ankle. Choso delicately placed his hand onto the back of your calf, your cold skin warming in his palm as he guided the back of the heel to rest atop his bent knee. Trailing his fingertips mindlessly on your skin as he gently unbuckled the silver rivet of the shoe.

Feeling the instant relief as he slid the buckle into a neighboring notch. A warm blush forming on your cheeks as you watch his painted hands trail gentle touches on your skin.

“There?” he mumbled, looking up at you as his thumb settled on the protruding bone of your ankle. Only offering a blushed ‘Mhm’ from your dry throat as he laced the rest of the tiny strap beneath the metal. Your hand was clutched on the edge of the seat- if your grip tightened any more you’d scratch the pristine leather.

Choso gently placed his palm back onto your calf, easing your leg back down gently before he stood up again. “Now for the moment of truth.” he winced, taking a step back and leaving you with your feet on the ground.

You inhaled sharply as his hand rested on the door again, waiting for you to sit correctly. You turned your body back to face the windshield, he closed the door for you- reaching his hand on the roof of the car for the plates before walking to the drivers side.

With how easy it was to fluster him or make him nervous, you were unsure why out of the two of you- you were the one who was on the verge of hyperventilating from the innocent act of kindness. In your mind an obstacle presented itself; how you were expected to keep your composure for the rest of the evening.

Your hand dared to tremble as you placed his heavy jacket on the center of the benched seat. Some kind of desperate attempt at a wall to keep you from acting on your self-indulgent thoughts.

Hearing a small thud as he placed the plates on the roof again. The driver's door opened smoothly, Choso eased into the seat as he placed his hand on the wheel with the keys in hand, leaving his door open with one foot on the ground.

Choso cleared his throat as he turned the ignition, raising his eyebrows in hopes the car would turn on. A wave of relief washed over him when he heard the loud roar come from the muffler. Quiet music playing from the staticky radio breaking the silence.

He stepped out of the car once more, walking to the hood to grab the car cover he carelessly folded. Your eyes followed him as he slid the pair of plates from the roof and walked to the back of the car, your shoulders tense while trying to breathe.

Flinching when you heard the trunk pound shut, clearing your throat when you saw him walk back to the opened door.

He settled into the driver's seat once more, mindlessly picking up your attempt at a wall and placing his jacket onto the ledge of the rearview window, leaving nothing but air to keep you separate from him.

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The drive was silent, the quiet radio music easing the tension in the air only you felt. Hands in your lap as you fiddled with your thumbs, Choso was unaware of your tense shoulders till he stopped at a red light.

Looking over at you- your head locked forward and sitting very, very far away. The look on your face though, furrowed eyebrows and unblinking eyes, lips pressed tightly together as though you were in deep thought- that's what made him realize something was wrong.

Replaying the last 10 minutes- not recalling a single snide comment or any attempts at flirting since he started driving.

He murmured your name- trying to pull you out of the thoughts that were whirling in your mind at that moment. Blinking your eyes and turning your head slightly, looking at Choso’s face that was illuminated by the red light. “Something wrong?”

You nodded your head ‘no’ intertwining your hands harshly together. Choso looked down to your latched hands, then back up to you with a perked brow- He didn't need to speak, you knew what he was asking with the look on his face.

You inhaled, trying to find something clever to say- “M’trying to keep my hands to myself.” you murmured, looking out of the window, gathering he was driving into the neighboring city as your knees pointed to the door along with your head.

‘...hands to yourself..?’ Choso mentally repeated your words, not knowing why you had to try to, when you were never shy about it before.

Air caught in your throat at the realization you said that louder than you were expecting, “In a- a non creepy way.” you reiterated, scrunching your eyes together at the stutter in your words.

Mentally you were cursing the stupid old traffic light that refused to turn green, even with the lack of cars around- it still beamed red. “Did I do something?” he asked, worried he offended you in some way.

You sighed, “Yes-”, refusing to look at him, “Yes, you did something.” you muttered as you looked into the glass, staring at him through the reflection.

“I’m sorry- I didn't mean to-” he started apologizing unknowing what he did- but it still felt like he had to.

You let out a laugh that rang through his ears in the sound of a hymn, “You don't even know what you did.” corners of your lips twitching upwards, turning your knees over to him as he looked forward at the now green light- accelerating slowly as you scanned his side profile.

“Must've been something worth an apology if you- of all people are keeping your hands to yourself.” he joked slyly. Only he meant to think those words- not actually say them to you.

You squinted your eyes at his banter, “Oh haha-” you grinned sarcastically, planting your hand onto the seat, “I'll make sure to keep ‘em to myself from now on if you feel that way.” You played, feeling your confidence soak back into your words.

Choso turned his head slightly over to you, low eyes knowing you wouldn't be able to keep that declaration, dropping his hand from the bottom of the wheel as the other held onto the side of it, placing it on the black leather to tempt you. Suddenly the distance you set between you too was too evident- too far, his eyes were forward- watching the road.

You gulped, scanning the top of his veiny hand, slowly you shifted closer to him.

Now close enough that he could sense you, “Choso?” you whispered, earning for a small hum to leave his throat, a childish smile on your lips “Can I hold your hand?” you spoke in a whisper- Choso furrowed his eyebrows at the question.

A gentle grin on his lips, “You don't need to ask me.” he whispered back, looking forward as he heard alarms and bells ring in his head from excitement.

So as you scooched closer to Choso, he held his hand out for you. His heart couldn't help but beat at an alarming pace, so close your thigh was pressed against his. Your knees pointed in his direction as he felt his palm threaten to sweat.

You slumped the tiniest bit into the matte seat, looking up at him as you gently took his hand into yours, interlocking your fingers with his as your other hand caged the back of his palm.

Both of your hands overwhelmed his tender one, smiling as you leaned the side of your head onto his bicep. Resting your joined hands on the seam where his thigh ended and yours began.

“I've always liked your hands.” you mumbled, caressing your thumbs on his skin as he drove- he was grateful the sky was darkening. Cause he was so sure the blush he was sporting on his cheeks was starting to roam down his chest.

Choso’s breathing hitched- catching in his throat, “My h-hands?” feeling his heart pound in his chest. And for the foot that wasn't on the gas to start bouncing nervously.

You giggled, “Yeah, your hands.” you hummed, unaware of the state you were pushing him to. “They're so pretty.” you complimented him with a tone only heard in his frantic dreams.

And as you scanned his jeweled hand engulfed by your own- the veins that trailed up his forearm beneath his pale skin proudly, you smiled as you pressed your thumb down onto a blood filled ridge on the top of his hand. Stopping the blood flow from the prominent vein.

His mind was whirring in his skull- had you said anything else he would've had to pull over to catch his breath.

But you didn't, no you only traced mindless doodles on his skin softly. ‘This has to be some kind of attempt on my life.’ his brain managed as the scent of your perfume infiltrated his nose.

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Though he was eternally grateful to be so- (some would say too close) to you, he felt his lungs able to breathe with a set pace once he found a parking spot in front of the building he was looking for. Streets full of couples as the moon started arising. Choso exhaled expectantly, switching the ignition off and feeling your grasp on his hand loosen.

“We’re here.” he practically choked out. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked onto the street, watching the people walking past the lit up glass doors.

“What's here?” you grinned, straightening your back and looking at Choso, you were so very close to his face. The light on the roof of the car made it very obvious that he was blushing.

“A uh-” he inhaled the air between you, “A museum.” his shoulders were tense, looking from your eyes to the curve of your nose- darting back and forth from the cupid's bow of your lips back up to your eyes. You smiled hearing his hesitant tone- relishing the sight of pure nerves flooding in his pupils from how close you were.

With an amused smile you snorted softly, “Ouu you want to kiss me sooo bad- I can see it-” you teased, earning for Choso to look away from you in embarrassment.

And as you pulled your hands from his, he opened his door, mumbling small curses, racing to the passenger side- reminding himself that he needs to be polite and well-mannered.

As he pulled your door open he held a hand out to you, giving you a brace to step out from the old car.

The sight of your hand in his as you stepped from the car elegantly made one thing click in his mind. Choso felt in his heart that he would be more than happy- elated even, to do this with you every weekend till you were both old and wrinkly.

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Hand in hand as you walked past the white walls. Stopping at any piece of art that caught your attention.

Your eyebrows pulled tight as you looked at a piece painted black with glimmers of red. Choso’s eyes were on your profile as you examined the art, “What do you see?” he mumbled, looking back to the large canvas. Unable to understand how you could see meaning in a few colors.

You sighed, tilting your head and staring at the streaks “It seems sad.” you whispered as he furrowed his eyebrows. “Like the person who painted this was distressed.”

Choso didn't see what you saw- he saw a lazy attempt at modern art- “You can see it in the brush strokes-” you leaned over to him as you pointed to the seemingly violent brush strokes. He tried to see what you saw, “In the way they decided to use a little bit of red.” You continued, looking over to his lost expression.

When you walked into the room of sculptures you stared at an old wooden chair placed on a small platform with a harsh spotlight on it, “Performer.” you read the words on the silver plate at the bottom, “What do you see Choso?” you repeated his question as he stared at the chair.

He squinted his eyes before speaking, “I think it's a chair-”, feeling your elbow shove him gently. He sighed, “Well, the chair is old, and the spotlight is on it almost in a mocking way.” Choso expressed his depiction of the piece. “And the title signifies that the chair is a piece to be gawked at.” he muttered as you smiled at his intune thoughts.

He huffed, almost feeling like he said too much. “You?” he broke your silence as he looked back at you.

“I think it's just a chair.” you mocked with a perked smile.

On the other end of the room there was a wired sculpture, if you looked in the right angle you'd be able to see the projected image within the silver wires.

You were tilting your head trying to make out the image, “I think it's a face?” you whispered as Choso furrowed his eyebrows, “Or two?” you squinted your eyes as you finally saw the image with a gratified exhale.

Choso huffed- frustrated from how tedious this was. “How are you seeing anything?” he asked frustrated as his neck started to strain from how long he was tilting it.

You dropped his hand- taking a step behind him and placing your hands on his shoulders, “Here.” you hummed, moving him to where you previously stood. “Lean down a little-” you whispered, you weren't able to see it- but his eyes were wide and his cheeks were tingling from your guidance.

And as he lowered himself, you placed your hands onto the side of his head- angling it softly to this side as he allowed you to. You stood behind him- close enough for him to be able to feel your breath wisp on his nape. “Can you see it?” you whispered- Choso felt goosebumps form on his arms at your soft tone.

You slid your hands from the side of his head- seeing him stay in place as he looked at the sculpture. “Can you?” you whispered as he raised himself back to stand up straight.

He looked at you with a horrified look on his face, “Yeah I can.” he muttered before you took his hand in yours again.

And when you found the room he specifically chose this museum for- he lit up with a smile.

“Art history-” you read the plaque on the wall.

Choso led you into the dimly lit room, “Finally some real art.” he muttered before turning the corner. Standing before the grand in size portraits- he looked at them in silence. Only you didn't find the same fascination in the old paintings as he did- you found the excitement that gleamed in his eyes more interesting than the dusty art works.

With every piece he knew, he'd tell you the tragedy behind them, star crossed lovers and small comments of the trageties- “Why are you looking at me like that?” he paused his previous sentence, looking at you worried that he was talking too much.

You offered a timid smile, circling your thumb on his skin lovingly. Reaching a pinkie up to his temple and brushing away a loose strand from his temple, “I can't look at you now?” you murmured playfully, his eyes glimmered with shock at the sudden contact against his face.

Choso diverted his eyes from your gaze, looking down to his shoes before mumbling, “You can't look at me like- that.” he felt his heart pound in his chest recalling the expression on your face with closed eyes.

You giggled at his words, “Why not?” you pressed, being able to feel his hand tighten its grip on yours.

He sighed, looking back up to your seemingly intoxicated face. Choso parted his lips, daring to say the first words that came to his mind. You raised your eyebrows and gripped his hand to urge him to give you a reason. “Cause I don't know what it means.” he retorted quietly.

You scoffed, an amused smile on your lips as you nodded your head. Not knowing how he could be so insightful in some ways and completely blind when it came to this.

Your eyes scanned his features, “How many times do I have to tell you before you get it?” you quipped, seeing his eyes pool with confusion at your question.

“I like you so much, Cho.” you whispered, seeing his eyebrows furrow harshly at the shortened version of his name. “I stare at you because I like you.” You assured, “I laugh at everything you say because I like you.”, watching his eyes blink down in timidness. In his mind, actually processing your words took a lot of effort.

“Can I be honest?” you whispered, seeing his lips mouth an ‘okay.’ to your question. “I don’t think I've ever liked someone in the way I like you.” Choso exhaled at your words- mumbling a ‘stop’ as you smiled.

You exhaled, “I'm being serious. You're just-” you started, only for Choso to raise your hand and place it flat onto his chest. His eyes trembled as he looked at you with a stern but pained expression. You raised your eyebrows at how fast his heart pounded in his chest, explaining why he asked you to stop without words.

Your lips curled into a sweet smile, pulling his hand that was wrapped around your wrist, holding your hand flat on his chest as you led his hand towards your exposed cleavage in attempts to show him how fast your own heart was beating.

Only for his eyes to widen and pull his hand from your grasp in shock- all but clutching his imaginary pearls as he hissed your name. Mortified to even think of touching you there.

A small laugh left your throat at how he exclaimed your name. You were kind enough to not attempt to do that again- fearing his heart might go into cardiac arrest from being skin to skin. Instead you pulled your hand from his chest, guiding his opposite one onto your wrist and pressing his index and middle finger onto the pulse in your wrist.

His eyebrows furrowed as he felt your racing pulse against his two fingers, “You make me just as nervous.” you whispered softly, smiling as he parted his lips.

Choso softened his gaze, “You do a great job at hiding it.” he whispered back, recalling every moment his heart palpitated in his chest- wondering if all those times your heart was racing too.

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“I think this is the first official date I've ever been on-” you smiled, now standing outside. Thinking how stupid it was that the exit was on the other end of the building.

Choso furrowed his eyebrows, “First, first date you mean?” he clarified your statement assumingly.

You scoffed with a smile, “No, the only date I've ever been on.” seeing his expression fall in surprisement.

Choso nodded his head as though that proclamation didn't make his heart burst in his chest, “Besides the times where we'd hang out after class- but I think this one is the first official one.” you grinned, pulling his hand with you as you turned to start walking back to the car.

‘The times we’d hang out..?’ he thought, recalling the afternoons you'd spend with him.

He inhaled quickly, “Those were dates?” he urged with a horrified look on his face, scanning at your profile. You looked at him as you stepped slowly.

Raising your eyebrows almost amused, “Well when two people like each other- and admit it to each other,” You taunted playfully, turning the corner of the sidewalk, “If both are consenting parties-” you continued your mocking tone as Choso listened to your words, to be sure he wouldn't miss hearing what you were saying.

“They start dating.” you teased, looking at him with a smile full of satisfaction.

In his mind, he replayed every moment from when he admitted he liked you till now- reevaluating them at the new information. With warm cheeks that were grazed by the cold air, “Are we..” he started, his palm becoming clammy against yours at the words he dared to spout. “Dating?” He asked, looking at you in a new light at that word.

No longer were you a person he liked- or a school friend. He was a person you were dating.

A soft chuckle left your throat at the dramatized words, “Don't tell me you just wanted to be a situationship?” you asked with feigned offense, furrowing your eyebrows as he listened to your words.

His face fell, trying to process the word you just said, “What is a situationship?” he asked almost scornfully at the unknown word as his grasp in your hand tightened. A sweet laugh left your throat at his question, not even being too sure of what that word meant yourself.

“Cho- are we dating or not?” you asked- turning the question around on him. His face went pink, both at the confrontation and the nickname- looking at you as though you hung the stars in the sky. You raised your eyebrows waiting for his reply.

Choso tried to think- he tried using all 4 fried brain cells in his mind to formulate a proper sentence, but all his trembling lips could muster was one word;

“Yes.”

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The walk back to the car was silent- You were pleased with how much he blushed, how you practically forced him to confirm that your goal was achieved.

Choso, on the other hand, had a mortified look on his face. The fear of taking the first step was long gone since the first 3 steps were already taken unbeknownst to him. In his mind he started seeing every possibility, every negative thing that could wait for him 10 miles down the road. Choso knew he should've been elated- but he couldn't help the heavy feeling in his chest as he thought of the future.

Staring at him lovingly, “Where to now?” you broke the silence as he opened the car door for you, holding your hand with trembling fingers as you eased into the vehicle.

Choso hurried to the other side of the car, taking a deep breath before getting into it. Thinking how everything is different now- he drove this car as your friend and now he was driving it as a person you were dating.

You scooched back to the spot you previously sat in, “I hope you're hungry-” he started, his cheeks tingling as he felt your hand interlock with his again, “God– I am starving.” You interrupted, looking over to him with an enticing grin.

Choso smiled to himself, “I have a fridge full of groceries waiting for us.” he tried ignoring your tracing thumbs as he put the car in drive.

You reached a hand over and pushed a few stray strands of hair that blocked his profile from you. “You gonna cook for me?” You hummed sweetly, seeing the blush on his cheeks deepen.

A small ‘Mhm’ left his lips as he pulled out of the street parking, you looked at him with adoring eyes, intoxicated on how close you were to him. “Those plates were definitely a good idea huh?” you asked smugly.

He sighed with a smile, “Yes. They were a phenomenal idea.” he fed into your boastful tone.

You looked at him, admiring that he cared enough to agree with you,“You’re so-” you hesitated as you tried to find the word, “So,” Choso was smiling as he awaited your words. You gritted your teeth- feeling cuteness aggression, “It's like I made you in a computer.” You smiled, hearing a hearty laugh from his chest.

The entire ride back to the campus- you didn't let go of his hand. The cringey love songs played on the radio quietly, with any song you recognized you’d tell him a memory from your upbringing. Grazing the tips of your fingers along his larger ones.

Choso made sure to listen to every single word you'd speak into the air- “M’sorry I know I'm talking a lot-” you sighed, noticing he wasn’t replying to your words.

Hee scoffed, “Don't apologize- I like listening to you talk.” flashing his eyes over to you as you nodded your head in disbelief at how smoothe he could be at times.

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You didn't check your phone the entire time. So you were happily relishing in the peace you felt being in the presence of him.

Walking past the entryway of his apartment, reaching into your coat pocket and taking it off as Choso reached for it in your hand, hanging it along with his on the coat rack.

You checked the stupid piece of aluminum, widening your eyes at the countless messages from your overbearing roommate, and checking the time. 9:05 pm as you heard Choso set down the boxed plates onto the kitchen counter in front of you.

You sighed as you pulled out a barstool from the wall, furiously typing as Choso gently peeled off the tape from the box.

Looking across the kitchen counter at you as you settled on the barstool with furrowed eyebrows. Scanning your bugged expression, “Everything okay?” he pulled you from your thoughts.

You sighed as you shut off the phone, placing it onto the counter faced down as you looked at him- completely defeated. “I’m moving out.” you claimed with a deadpan tone.

Choso looked at you from the cabinet, “What now?” he smiled as he reached for a pan.

“I have like- 50 texts and 20 missed calls from my-” you were interrupted, Choso finished your sentence, ‘roommate’, watching as you huffed a sweet smile at how he knew what you were ranting about. “Regardless, I'm moving- even if I live on the street for a few days. I can't stay at that house anymore.” You sighed, watching Choso turn on two knobs on the stove.

Looking at him with defeated eyes, “You won't live on the street.” he assured, turning around and opening the fridge.

You rested your elbow on the counter, placing your chin in your hand as you watched him set various small containers of already prepared herbs onto the counter. “At the end of the day people really are disappointing aren't they?” you asked with a sigh, watching as he pulled out two pre-marinated chicken breasts from the fridge.

Choso decided to ignore your previous statement- not wanting to sullen the mood even more, “Are they like this with your other roommates?” he asked with a smile, drizzling oil into the pan. Going to lower the heat on the small steel pot on the back burner before moving to stand in front of you.

You watched as he slowly pulled his jewelry from his fingers, “No- if anything they enable their behavior.” eyeing the silver metal on the counter, your proclamation earning a sigh from Choso.

He noticed your eyes following his hands, furrowing his eyebrows at your gawking. “You need better roommates.” he declared, turning to the sink and washing his hands as you reached for the abandoned metal he left on the counter.

As you rolled the warm metal in your hand you sighed, “I need to move out is what I need-” watching as he dried his hands. You smirked to yourself, “If I was your neighbor would you cook for me everyday?” You asked- half joking as he looked up from the searing pan.

Choso smiled at your question, picking up one of the raw chickens, “If you were my neighbor I’d cook for you anytime you asked.” he flashed his eyes up at you before placing the white meat into the pan, a loud sizzle coming from the action.

You rested your elbows onto the counter with a hearty giggle, “You say that now- But when m’knocking at your door 2-3 times a day- you can't complain.” you warned, watching as he let out a half laugh.

He picked up metal tongs from the utensil holder, “If you knock on my door 2-3 times a day- I won't have any reason to complain,” he spoke your name in reassurance as he flipped the grilling chicken on the other side.

You laughed to yourself, not being able to sense any nervousness or hesitation in his words anymore, almost as though he gained more confidence in the past half hour.

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As he plated the cooked chicken, you watched with a grumbling stomach. Almost drooling as he scooped a decent portion of mashed potatoes onto the brand new white plate, “God- that looks so good.” You bit your lip, reaching your hands to the plate.

“Wait-” he held onto the edgeas he reached for a pre-cut lemon- squeezing it gently as the citrus glazed the browned chicken.

With a warm smile he spoke, “There- now you can eat it.” looking down to the beautifully plated meal, you sighed. Grabbing onto the edge of the plate and pulling it towards you.

You looked back to him, “I can wait for you-” you muttered, hoping he'd say no.

He exhaled, smiling as he watched your eyes full of hunger flicker from him back down to your serving. “It's okay- you eat.” He assured, watching the smile return on your lips as you picked up the metal fork placed on the side of the plate.

Choso watched you expectantly, the fork scraping against the plate as you sliced into the meat-piercing the chunk you cut off and lifting it to your lips, looking at him as you placed the fork into your mouth. The warmth from the grilled chicken landing on your tongue as you pulled the fork from your lips- leaving nothing on it with a sigh from your nose.

Chewing a few times as you closed your eyes, savoring the flavor between every bite.

You swallowed, opening your eyes and nodding your head, “You're insane.” you mumbled, looking at his expression unchanged- not knowing if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“Please finish cooking so I can eat more-” you joked, placing the fork onto your plate, he scoffed at the words that seemed like a compliment.

And as you asked, he plated his own serving, not with a quarter as much love nor care- but it was infront him as he leaned down to take a bite, assuring you it was fine for you to continue eating.

He hummed as he placed the fork down onto his plate, “I didn't even offer you anything to drink-” he scoffed to himself reaching to the cupboard above his head and pulling down two glass cups.

You opened your mouth- hesitating to speak as you watched him turn to the fridge, “Not to sound alcohol-dependent or anything-” you grinned as he peeked back to you. “But do you…?” you insinuated with half lidded eyes.

Choso sighed, “I don't. I have water and orange juice.” he mumbled, knowing exactly what you were trying to do- but he knew in his bones it wouldn't have been a good idea to let you drink right now.

You gave a half laugh, “Water is fine.” you smiled as he reached into the fridge. Choosing to keep the bottle of ‘Titos’ he had a secret from you.

Pulling out a glass bottle from the fridge he had bought yesterday. Pouring water into your glass as you chewed on your affection infused meal.

You placed down your fork, swallowing the previous bite before reaching for the cold glass. “You'd really be okay with me moving next door?” watching his eyes trail down to his plate.

Choso inhaled, “If it makes you happier- and not feel so stressed, I would let you move in here-” he spoke mindlessly, halting his chewing as he realized what he said. He inhaled sharply- feeling like your silence was deafening. He was about to apologize-

Only you laughed, “All my clothes would not fit in your closet.” you inhaled as you placed a bite of the mashed potatoes into your mouth. He huffed through his nose at your comment, pleased that you took it as a joke rather than how he truly meant it.

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Somewhere between him finishing half of his meal and your 5th compliment on how fucking good the food tasted- a battle ship board was put up between you.

Furrowed eyebrows staring back at you as he called out a number on the board. You hissed as you looked at your side of the game, “Nope.” you grinned as he gruffed at his attempts.

You were examining your grid, trying to use all the divination you could muster before he spoke up- “Did I tell you I'm thinking of getting a job?” he smiled, watching your furrowed eyebrows ease at the question.

You gasped, “No! Don't do that-” holding a peg in your hand as his expression churned to confusion. “I won't be able to see you as often.” you pouted, looking down at your board. The words seemingly came unfiltered from your heart, and the sight of you pouting at the idea of not being able to see him as much anymore was more than enough to push that idiocy to the side.

And though you meant it as a half joke, it still pained you to know that now- of all times. When things were finally advancing, he'd pull away.

“If you need money-” your lungs threatened to laugh at the words forming on your lips. “I'd be more than happy to pay for your time.” You spewed as though you were a sleazy 80 year old man speaking to a lady of the night.

Choso furrowed his eyebrows and parted his lips, “Like an escort??” he huffed a laugh, you looked up from your board with an entertained smile. “No- no, not like an escort-” you defended.

Calling out a number on the board as he nodded his head. “Like a paid…” you thought of the word, “Though I can't call you a friend anymore can I?” You spoke to yourself as he scanned his side of the plastic game, smiling at the thought that you'd no longer hesitate when referring to him.

He inhaled as he took a bite from the coldening food, looking over to your plate and seeing you had finished. “I thought you were broke?” he spoke thoughtlessly, not being able to feel the hesitance before he spoke now.

Your smile fell, he squinted his eyes as you shook off the sudden heavy feeling- “You're that expensive?” you chirped, looking at him bewildered at the thought he might've taken your words seriously.

Choso scoffed, “No, you don't have to pay me to hang out with you.” he reiterated, watching as you fiddled with the peg in your hand. Recalling your query of if he'd mind if you were his neighbor. “But I remember you said you were broke..?” he looked at you with detective eyes as you called out a square on the grid. Sucking his teeth when you actually hit one of his boats.

You hummed as you avoided eye contact, “I uhh-” you lowered your shoulders and raised a brow, “I figured it out.” flashing a warm smile at him. Only you meant it in an assuring way- Choso saw past it. He saw the way your lips fell after you said that, the way your eyes dimmed from recalling what you were hiding.

You cleared your throat, “Meaning, I can afford your company now.” you circled back to the silly topic with a smile, Choso sneered through his nose at your insistence. He opened his mouth to speak- but you spoke before he could.

“What kind of job?” you looked at him, changing the topic before he called out a number on the grid.

He sucked his teeth, “I was thinking at the library- Quiet, don't have to do a whole lot.” He muttered as he studied the target grid. “Or I could apply to be a TA.”squinting before calling out a number.

You tightened your lips, mouthing a curse as you marked a small boat with a red peg. “Why now of all times?” you asked as you waited for him to call out another number.

Choso parted his lips- almost saying the words that popped into his mind before closing his mouth. “No- say what you were thinking.” you caught onto the little habit he had developed since he was a child.

He smiled at your attentiveness, “I was thinking, now that I’m..” looking at you with a blushing smile, you raised your eyebrows, all but saying ‘go on.’

“Now that I am seeing someone.” he murmured, looking down at the board embarrassed and trying to ignore your gaze, you laughed at his avoidant eyes.

You inhaled, nodding your head ‘no’ disapprovingly. “You don't need to get a job just because we're dating, Cho.” you assured, standing from the barstool and taking a step around the end of the kitchen counter, standing before his figure as he looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, “Look at all the times we've hung out- not once did we need money or to go out to have fun.” placing a hand on his bicep and squeezing gently to affirm your words even more.

Choso inhaled, “Would it be enough?” he muttered as he looked down to his shoes. You scoffed, trailing your hand down to his forearm, then to his hand.

“I would be more than fulfilled if all we did was stay here and play board games day after day.” you whispered, holding your hand gently in his as he felt his throat close up-

He looked back to you with creased eyebrows, the tip of his nose daring to turn pink from an expression that looked close to tears. “You want a hug?” you asked sweetly, hearing a sniffle from his nose before pulling you to him.

Your hands wrapped around his waist as his arms rested atop your shoulders, holding you tightly as your bodies came together in a perfect mold. Choso held one hand on the back of your neck softly, the other pressed taut between your shoulder blades as you smiled into his chest, circling your hands soothingly on his spine, he sniffled before speaking.

“Be honest. Did you come over here to look at where my boats were?” you breathed out- defeated that he saw through your plot. Pulling away from him as his hands hesisted to let you go from the hug that felt like home.

You looked at him with a cheeky smile, “I did.” you nodded, looking over to his side of the board and seeing you were close to winning by a few more pegs. You looked back to him, parting your lips expectantly as he took a step back.

‘Be well-mannered’ Choso thought as he watched you brush off the slight disappointment.

He cleared his throat, “I think it's time to take you home.” he smiled, watching your eyes blink down to your shoes that had to be uncomfortable by now.

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The trip to your house was short now that there was a car, and yet- you still held onto him as though it was the last time you'd have the chance to.

Choso parked on the opposite side of the street, turning off the car as your eyes looked at the wooden door across the street almost resentfully. “Ready?” he asked, knowing you’d refuse to face the music were he not there.

With a begrudged exhale, you nodded your head.

Choso held the car door open for you, holding your hand as you stepped onto the street. You almost resented how polite he was- knowing if it were anyone else they would have invited you to stay the night- regardless if it was a first date.

But not him, Choso didn't dare to even think of asking that of you.

And as you stood before him on your unlit porch, you smiled, “Thank you.” with a whisper, looking into his eyes as he scanned the prominent aspects of your face.

“Don't thank me.” he murmured, his voice low and throaty as he watched the sparkle in your eye round your pupil.

With a modist smile, you looked at him impatiently. “I think this is where you kiss me goodnight.” you leaned forward mere millimeters as Choso refused to step back this time.

He gulped at your words, “It wouldn't be polite.” he dissuaded lowly as you grinned innocently.

Close enough that you were breathing the same air- “It would be more impolite not to, Choso.” you compelled, watching his gaze dart from your lips back to your eyes.

He raised his hands to the side of your face- thumbs caressing your temples softly, parting your lips as his fingers kept a light touch beneath your ears. You fluttered your eyes closed as you heard ringing in your mind, cheeks warm and tingling as you awaited.

Only you awaited something to press against your lips- But Choso had other plans.

His parted lips pressed onto the center of your forehead, pulling away with your head in his hands. It wasn't disappointment- more like a challenge that you felt. “Goodnight,” he spoke your name in an intoxicating tone, softly taking his hands from your face and taking a step back from you.

You couldn't help but smile at his chivalry, “You're cruel.” you whispered, earning a quiet half-laugh from his chest.

“It’s not respectful to kiss you on a first date.” He scolded playfully, watching you roll your eyes lightheartedly.

You stared at him as you leaned your back onto the door, placing your hand on the brass knob before sucking your teeth. “When is a respectful time then?” you murmured, watching his hands slide into his coat pockets.

“Third. Maybe even fourth date.” he smiled, knowing that would gain a feigned groan of dissatisfaction from you. Though it was earlier than you'd like- 10:43 to be exact, you were still grateful he was courteous enough to bring you back home as though you had a curfew.

“Goodnight Cho.” you smiled, turning the brass knob as he kept his eyes on you.

Were the porch light on you’d be able to see the beaming blush on his cheeks, “Goodnight.” he replied sweetly, watching as you stepped into your house, taking one last look at him before waving a small goodbye.

Choso was able to contain the excitement in his throat till he turned away from your porch, his lungs threatening to start hyperventilating as he tried to confirm with himself if that actually just happened. He stood at the car door- looking up at the sky and thanking whatever celestial being was out there for the lucky hand he was dealt.

There was one thought in his mind at that moment. He was now sure that you made him feel more alive and far less lost than he felt without you. And he relished in that thought as he drove back to his apartment, no longer fearing the future- if anything he was thrilled to know that for the first time, love finally loved him back.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

and if I told you I over indulged sooo much in this chapter??? and if i said........ I almost hemorrhaged writing this?!!! this was too cute, (just wait till I write abt the first time they have sex) And if you're curious- yes the rewarding cigarette was delicious.

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adhdduckie · 3 months

Text

from the outside. teen!g.s. x reader.

my masterlist

irl mutuals dni

music choice; yo bro wtf

word count: 1.5k

synopsis; your best friend gojo and you through the eyes of shoko and getou.

warnings; not proof read.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

i. geto suguru, gojo's other best friend.

gojo and getou's relationship was a strange one. they had been friends as soon as they joined jujutsu tech high. In the years that they had known one another, they had grown to read each other like a book they had known forever.

ever since riko's death, things have been hard for the both of them. the elders force gojo to work more, and getou is left mostly alone. you're there sometimes to help him if he needs it, and sometimes he thinks it's the only thing that's keeping him sane.

The four of you are standing outside the halls, while gojo shows you his limitless technique for the first time. it's impressive, to say the least. The rubber thrown at him by shoko bounces off his head, and the pencil stops moving, it doesn't get close enough to him to hurt him.

a couple of weeks later, getou notices that gojo has it on all the time. there is not a moment in the day where gojo doesn't have infinity on. walking through the rain as a group, gojo's the only one that doesn't get wet at all. You're soaking, regardless of having been under a large umbrella.

gojo nudges and laughs at you, but no matter how many times you push him away from underneath the umbrella, he doesn't get wet, and you groan in irritation.

a couple days later, getou's at the vending machines, buying a couple cans of soft drinks for all of you. You, gojo and shoko are sitting around a table, gojo facing away from getou. getou walks up behind, with the cans in hand, attempting to press the cold can to gojo's cheek like he used to do.

but he realises he can't. his hand doesn't pass through the limitless barrier, and instead of saying something, he just sets the can down in front of gojo, as he says something stupid to change the topic. you all see how tired gojo is sometimes, but he takes on all of the jobs he's given, cuz after all, he's the strongest, right?

shoko is unable to touch him, too. a couple days later after the incident with getou, she tries to swat at him after gojo steals a fry off his plate when you're all sitting in the KFC booths. like getou, she can't touch him.

after KFC, you all head to the arcade. it's a rare day where you are all free, so you gotta make the most of it. getou and shoko are staring at some basketball game, and after awhile, they decide to play it.

you're staring at some cute little plushy inside the claw machine. it's a scam, you know. but that little white cat with the black sunglasses reminds you too much of a certain someone, and if you can't have him, you'll take the cat.

since claw games are a total scam, you spend three tokens trying to get that little cat, which you've mentally dubbed as mini 'toru, and when those three tokens are wasted, you sigh, pushing away from the machine and go find something else to do.

unbeknownst to you, satoru has been watching the entire time, and while you're prancing on the dance dance revolution with shoko, he gets it for you. getou watches, not commenting on anything at all, just smirking as he watches from afar.

he walks up to you, while you beat shoko's ass by a substantial amount. he taps your shoulder, and when you spin around, your face breaks out into a wild grin. completely forgetting about the game, you jump, throwing your arms around gojo.

getou flinches in preparation, fully expecting you to slam face first into the impossible barrier. but when he doesn't hear the sound of you getting hurt, he opens his eyes, not really noticing when they fluttered shut.

the sight that meets his eyes is astounding. your arms are wrapped around gojo's neck, and you're grinning at him happily. gojo's got his arms wrapped around you to stop you from falling.

getou hears a gag behind him, and turns around to see shoko being dramatic, gagging at the lovey dovey sight. they catch each others' eyes, and grin at each other, knowing that something more might just blossom between you and gojo, as his infinity was not on around you. i mean, getou's slightly hurt that it's on around him, but he's more excited than anything.

ii. shoko ieiri, your own best friend.

it's been a long, exhausting week. actually, it felt more like a year. you've spent ages doing paper work and killing curses, spent hours inside the infirmary. you've barely seen gojo all week, and you bitch and moan about being busy next to shoko as she patches you up.

"shut up." she tells you, pulling a wrap tightly together, as you let out a soft hiss.

you glare at her, before a notification pings on your phone. shoko watches as your face lights up immediately when you see who sends you the message, and much to shoko's joy, you shut up.

curious to know who it is, she leans over your shoulder, gently pushing your face to see better. she rolls her eyes, noticing satoru's name and profile pic popping up, and she turns around, going back to wrapping you up.

it's an invitation to watch a movie with him, to have your weekly movie marathon. you send a quick, speedy reply, agreeing to meet him, simply stating that you'll grab the snacks and drinks and meet him in a hour.

shoko rolls her eyes again, watching as you stumble quickly off the table, grabbing your stuff, while she yells after you to be careful, and that she hasn't even finished.

"i'll be fine!" you yell back at her. she sighs, shaking her head, glancing back to her monitor, a photo of the four of you up in the background. even in the photo, you're looking at gojo.

in the image, he's staring at the camera, but your eyes are trained on him, a smile on your lips. getou and shoko are laughing, and you have your arm slung over shoko's arm.

she sighs again, stretching her neck out as she thinks. your love for him is so obvious, it's a wonder satoru hasn't noticed yet. she sits up straight again, getting back to her work.

the hours go by quickly as she fills out paperwork. it's dark by the time she finishes, way past midnight. all she can hear is crickets chirping, and the rustling of leaves in the wind.

she stands from her chair, stretching out her long arms, cracking her back. she walks through the school's halls, reminiscing about her past.

at the end of the hall, where the common room is, there's a harsh glow of a light, the tv still playing. shoko walks closer, expecting either you or satoru to have forgotten to switch off the tv when you went to bed.

she's surprised to find you both still there, as she stands in the doorway. from her position, she can only see the back of the couch, yours and gojo's head. as she quietly stalks closer, to remind you to go to bed early, especially after being hurt.

as she walks closer, she sees the food you went and bought still spread around the table, an open box of cheese pizza, several bags of chips, and three boxes of satoru's favourite kikifuku you somehow managed to get despite his favourite store being an hour away.

as her eyes drag over the mess in front of her, mostly satoru's, you would say if you were awake, since there's popcorn all over the couch and on the floor, she notices the spots you and satoru are in.

she slaps her hand over her mouth, forcing the laugh down. the two of you are cuddled close together, like satoru and you can't even bear to be apart while asleep, or as if, while sleeping, there was something pulling you together.

satoru's legs are tangled with yours, his arm over your shoulder, your face hidden in the crook of his neck. she smiles again, pulling her phone out and snapping photos for you, since she knows you'd love having them.

as she tucks her phone away, and switches off the tv, as to not disturb your peaceful sleep, she sees a small movement in the corner of her eye. when she looks, the movement immediately stops, but she sees a smile curve across satoru's lips.

ah. he's been awake this entire time. his eyes flutter open, and they make eye contact. satoru pulls up the hand that's not wrapped around you, and brings a finger to his lips, shushing shoko.

she laughs, shaking her head. the little shit. she bets he's planned this entire thing out. she turns on her heel, walking back to her own room, quickly sending the photos to both you and satoru, and sending another to getou. his response is immediate.

'how much longer do you think this will last?' getou wagers in his text

'not much more pining, i think. it's about time, i believe.' shoko states.

she's right. it's not long before you finally get together, and getou and shoko heave a sigh of relief.

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itsmealaiah · 4 months

Note

Omfg your smut is so hot wtf. I need a submissive virgin bill smut where he begs his best friend (fem reader) to make his “ache” go away

PLS

oh hell yes

Pinch the nips I'm a tease

(2014 Bill x Fem)

Tags/ warnings: corruption, sub! bill, (he's a virgin as stated) teasing, riding, head (m receiving) begging, slight size k!nk

MDNI ⚠️

Synopsis: After continuous weeks of y/n teasing poor Bill, she finally gives in and gives him what he craves.

A/n: this request is actually so hot i'm gonna sob.

The scent of sweat and desire filled the air as Bill Kaulitz lay on the bed, his body tense and aching for release. His eyes were shut tightly, his fists clenched, and his lips parted in a silent plea for the relief he so desperately craved. His best friend, y/n, had been teasing him mercilessly for weeks, their late-night conversations filled with promises of the pleasure she would give him. She knew he was a virgin, and she seemed to delight in the idea of being his first, his only. Bill could feel himself growing harder and harder beneath the sheets, his hips thrusting upward in silent invitation.

Finally, y/n stepped into the room, her movements fluid and sensual. She was wearing nothing but a tiny pair of lace underwear that hugged her curves and made Bill's heart race. She climbed onto the bed beside him, her hand finding its way to his crotch, where she began to stroke him through his pajama bottoms. "Are you ready for me, Bill?" she purred.

He nodded frantically, his hips bucking upward, seeking more contact. "Please, y/n," he gasped. "I can't take much more."

She grinned wickedly, her fingers finding the hem of his pajama top and pushing it upwards, revealing his chest and stomach to the cool air. With a sultry laugh, she leaned down and kissed his neck, her tongue flicking out to trace a line down his collarbone. Bill arched his back, moaning loudly as she continued to tease him. Finally, she pushed his pajama bottoms down and off, freeing his hard length from its confines.

"Oh, Bill," she breathed, her eyes widening at the sight of him. "You're so big." She leaned forward, taking him into her mouth, and Bill cried out, his hips bucking violently as pleasure washed over him in waves. He could feel her expert tongue dancing along his length, teasing and caressing, driving him wild. "That's it," she murmured, her lips closing around him, her throat working as she began to bob her head up and down. "Let me help you feel better."

Bill gripped the sheets, his knuckles white as he fought for control. Her mouth was so hot, so wet, and every stroke sent shockwaves of pleasure through him. He could feel himself getting closer, the pressure building inside him, threatening to explode. "Y/n," he moaned, his voice hoarse. "I'm gonna… I'm gonna…"

She looked up at him, her eyes dark and heavy-lidded. "Cum for me," she whispered. "Let it all out." And with those words, he did. His body tensed, his hips bucking violently as he emptied himself into her mouth, crying out her name as waves of ecstasy washed over him. When at last he collapsed back onto the bed, gasping for air, she crawled up beside him and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. "That's it," she murmured, kissing his cheek. "All better now."

But Bill couldn't get enough. He felt a new ache growing inside him, an ache that only y/n could satisfy. He reached down between their bodies and guided her tiny lace underwear aside, revealing her wetness to him. "Please," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "Can you… help me feel better again?"

She smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Of course, Bill," she purred, lowering her hips until she was positioned above him. He could feel her warmth pressing against his length, and with a groan of pleasure, he reached up to guide her, helping her to sink down onto him. They both gasped as their bodies connected, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure through them. She began to move, her hips undulating in a sinuous dance that drove him wild. Her breasts swayed with each thrust, brushing against his chest, and he could feel her inner muscles gripping him tightly, milking him with each movement.

"Oh God, y/n," he moaned, his hands digging into her hips. "You feel so good." She leaned forward, her lips finding his neck once again, her teeth grazing his skin as she moved. The sensation sent shivers of pleasure coursing through him, heightening the already intense sensations pulsing through his body. He could feel himself growing closer and closer to the edge, but he didn't want it to end. He wanted to stay wrapped up in her forever.

Finally, with a cry that was part pleasure and part anguish, he let go, his body convulsing as he emptied himself deep inside her. She held him close, her breath hot against his ear as she whispered soothing words and stroked his back. When the spasms finally began to subside, she leaned back, her head resting on his shoulder, their sweat-slick bodies still connected. "There," she breathed. "All better now."

They lay there together, their hearts racing and their skin flushed, as the afterglow of their lovemaking washed over them. Bill felt a sense of contentment and belonging that he had never experienced before, and he knew that from now on, y/n would always be a part of him.

As they caught their breath, Bill couldn't help but wonder what other adventures they would share together. The possibilities seemed endless, and he felt a thrill of anticipation course through him. He reached up, running his fingers through her hair, and smiled. "Thank you," he whispered. "That was… incredible."

She smiled back at him, her eyes shining with love and happiness. "You're welcome, Bill," she said softly. "Anytime you want me, all you have to do is ask." And with that, she leaned forward and kissed him, their lips lingering together as they began to drift off to sleep, their hearts still beating in time with each other.

a/n: 🥰 now to go on with daily life and be social 😭

#bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz #tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x you #bill kaulitz fanfic #itsmealaiah #bill kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz x reader smut #bill kaulitz x you

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bomber-grl · 5 months

Text

Leo Valdez x Latina/o reader

₊˚⊹Pairing(s): Leo Valdez x reader (no pronouns/no specific godly parent)

When y’all meet it’s like that one Spider-Man meme

He’s honestly really glad to meet another Latin person, especially if that person ends up his friend and eventually lover.

If you speak Spanish then best believe he gon be speaking to you in Spanish, most times it’s Spanglish but you still understand all the same.

I feel like when people of the same culture/ethnicity meet it’s an automatic click.

So that’s def what happened between the two of y’all.

Now, if you speak Portuguese or anything other than Spanish then lil blud is gonna try to learn your language 😭

I don’t make the rules that’s just how he is.

Doesn’t even matter if he butchers it so badly

(Prolly doesn’t since Portuguese and Spanish are similar (if that’s ur language btw otherwise it’s so bad 😭)

But still 🤷‍♀️

Now, if your latino then best believe y’all gon understand jokes that others don’t

Especially if someone does something dramatic. then you both automatically reference La Rosa De Guadalupe

And then it turns into this whole worm hole on the momo and ballena azul things on those episodes- and it’s a whole other story tbh

(Sorry if ur reading this at night and got scared from the flashbacks)

Anyway, he’s that one person at Latino parties that’s a lot of stereotypes ngl

Like he’ll be that one older cousin that absolutely obliterates the piñata and then runs all cutely to you to give you the candy as if he didn’t push some 5 years olds.

But also that one guy in the table chismeando with the tías

You can’t tell me he isn’t a little chismoso 😭

He’d probs also be the guy that handles the piñata and purposefully move sit out of the way each and every time.

Continuing from that…

He’d def dance w u on the dance floor

Lil blud got them moves

And he def spends the most time w the little kids

No matter where you are 😭

Moving on, if you ever call him an Edgar or sum shit then he’d get so genuinely shocked

Like you absolutely recked him

How dare you?

Especially since his hair isn’t even an Edgar cut 😭

He’d be so hurt but move on (not at all he’d hold it against you)

Ofc lil pookie loves you so let’s move onto the more affectionate hcs

He calls you mamas or mamacita (fem nicknames) 😔

*insert vine boom effect*

Not to mention if you’re male leaning he’d call u some shit like papi chulo or since he’s kinda a nerd and into anime (personal hc) he’d call u senpapi

Like ain’t no way-

Bro is so embarrassing when he says this shit like wtf 😧 nahh git trippin

Nah but (unlike in the books) him calling u this shit is mostly satire

Especially when y’all call eachother the most rancid nicknames so it’s ok 🤷‍♀️

-Sometimes…. *insert that wiener dog side eyeing meme*

It’s fun being w him cuz y’all can just casually talk about whatever that involves your culture.

Like even talking about favorite Latin snacks is an actually convo y’all have had and it’s honestly great.

Especially when he says a word in Spanish cuz he don’t know it in English

bro doesn’t know how to speak in English or Spanish sometimes.

Honestly same

I mean lil broski is glad to have you as his s/o at all

Lil homie desperate

But it’s the icing on top when he finds out your Latino/a

Makes y’all closer and makes him glad he can reference things, knowing that you’ll understand.

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bhaalsdeepbat · 3 months

Text

Little Wyll/Karlach/Astarion things

Astarion introducing people all, "This is my girlfriend, Karlach. This is her boyfriend, Wyll." gives him a little narrow eyed look, but Wyll is just like...buddy, my star, you were literally sleeping on my chest last night wtf are you on today.

UGH AND THEN the sun, moon, and stars embroidery. IMAGINE OK. Imagine that being for these three. Karlach and Wyll are the light of his day, and he is their light in the darkness of night. He makes a matching one for Wyll while the three are in Avernus together, but time feels less pressing as it did before. It feels like they suddenly have ALL the time in the world, despite Wyll and Karlach still being mortals. The end to their finite time is just not suddenly there on the horizon, waiting to cruelly separate them when they've had so little time together.

Karlach giving Ulder a piece of her mind and having Astarion drag her off bc he can tell Wyll does NOT want this confrontation happening. She's overheated, he can't even touch her bare skin without getting singed, and Wyll just is like. so struck by the fact that she cares so much about him that she refuses to let Ulder act like he didn't abandon his son. It wouldn't be anything bad, but it would be scathing, and end with how happy she is that Ulder and Wyll have been reunited bc Wyll's a REALLY great guy and if you abandon him like that again you'll be talking to me (and she pauses when she feels Astarion poke her to give her a look, and she can just read it) AND fangs

Astarion just crosses his arms and tries to look menacing...which, to his credit, the red eyes and teeth are creepy af, but mostly he just looks bitchy and like he might eat Ulder.

wyll practicing his dancing and inviting them both one night to dance around the campfire. Astarion sits off to the side, content to watch them. Karlach likes to dance, but not in the way Wyll does, so it's awkward at first, then after a few times where her big feet stomp on his toes, he decides to follow her lead instead. He's never danced like that before, but enjoyed every second of it. Before the evening ends, Astarion allows him one single dance just so he can show Karlach what he had been practicing. None of them talk about Astarion dancing with Wyll again. It's a treasured memory, but the two know that's a barred teasing topic (they bust his balls a lot and he just. begrudgingly accepts it, but some topics they KNOW to avoid)

wyll feeling suffocated by mizora one night and just. he's calm as hell, but Astarion notices him sulking first (I hc our resident vamp as the most perceptive at the camp bc of all i think he was doing for Caz). He tries to talk to wyll, but astarion isn't good at not bristling and it's one of those times where wyll just. he's being scathing. he's meeting astarion at astarion's petty level, and astarion is downright impressed.

he's like ????? like he's not even mad. he's just all "who knew the famed blade of frontiers had this nasty side" and he's smirking and it isn't a sexual comment at all but it accidentally does. and him being impressed rather than bristling is what leads to Astarion being the one to be like "ok now that we've had our dick measuring contest, just tell me wtf is going on"

Every time Mizora shows up, Astarion starts running his mouth like an attack chihuahua. Insults, barks, bared teeth, he does NOT like her. Karlach joins him, they play off each other a lot, actually. Like Karlach IS the attack dog, which makes Astarion feel a little more ballsy when he's mouthing off bc he knows any fight he cause WILL be ended with his beautiful gf knocking their ass out.

Wyll spends that night just. completely distraught. he can't even be with karlach and astarion, he asks for time alone to deal with his thoughts, and they respect it. Astarion keeps an eye from a distance, but he and Karlach allow him the space until he's ready for them, then they both move in to comfort him.

Karlach is great at hugs. She holds him and it's so comforting that Wyll finds himself believing it when Astarion is PROMISING that they'll figure it out. Astarion isn't soft in this moment, he certainly isn't kind while comforting Wyll, but he's genuine. Wyll knows Astarion means it when he promises that him and Karlach will be at Wyll's side to help him fight his battles, because like it or not, his battles are theirs to fight as well.

They'd go after Cazador first after Astarion is nearly (or successfully is) kidnapped. Karlach is PISSED, she's raging, ready to burn down the entire palace just to smoke Caz out. Wyll, equally angry, but actually comes up with a really, really good idea. Like he sits everyone down, goes through the battle plan, and Astarion is just so silent the entire time bc he cannot believe these two would rally so hard around him.

This is the point where every time someone is the least bit mean to Wyll, it is ON SIGHT for Astarion. Before, he'd butt in if someone crossed a line he felt shouldn't be crossed, or if it was Ulder or Mizora, but now it's ANYONE. Only he gets to insult his beloved Wyllyam.

Karlach on the docks, saying her goodbyes, holding her heart, her eyes welling with tears as she sees Wyll and Astarion look at her with just. the amount of grief in their eyes. She can't take it. it's the first chip in her resolve that allows them to swoop in and convince her to keep going.

Wyll moves first. Tells her she doesn't have to be alone, she'll have him AND astarion to watch her back. this isn't a convo any of them have had. astarion and wyll both know she'd rather die than go to avernus, but wyll KNOWS Astarion would go there in a heartbeat, and vise versa. they just know each other very very well at this point

So, Wyll is talking to her, Astarion is hiding under his cloak AND Wyll's bc the sun is threatening to burn him alive, but he can't leave Karlach alone. His own skin is cracking with the threat of turning to ash. Wyll holds onto Karlachs' hands, stares into her scared eyes, and she can SEE that he means the promise he makes to her. He will NOT let her be alone in Avernus, if she chooses to return.

Astarion, despite trying to hide from his own imminent death, gives his points. they're quick, not as nicely said as when he has a one on one with her bc he's also trying not to die, but he's more worried about her than he is himself.

Karlach, assured that the two men who vowed to love her to her dying breath, agrees to go to Avernus with them. They have one hell of a bloody time together. It's one of the best chapters in their life stories, after they get Karlach's heart fixed and they're all able to leave Avernus.

All three of them finally free of the bonds of servitude, they're able to explore the world. They're free to go where they wish, free to love who they wish, and free to finally choose their own paths and futures, though their choices will always involve being together.

#bat writes #fic idea #astarion #karlach #wyll #bg3 #wyllach #wyllachstarion #wyllstarion #bloodpact #hellspawn #this is actually what the whole doublet thing was tied into when i initially was thinking abt it #bc i'm fascinated by the idea of a dynamic between these three

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channelinglament · 1 year

Text

So, I've seen a lot of self-aware aus, and my favorites are SAGAU and Twst

And uhm

I haven't seen anything with self-aware pjsk

Did no one make it or did I just not find it??

Since I couldn't find it, I was like "Let's make it yourself then!"

☆•°Welcome to my self-aware pjsk rant!°•☆

You know how in the beginning of the game Miku asks you for your name and etc? Yeah I'm pretty sure that mayyybeeee she could be self-aware at that moment??

While you two are "singing" (aka you playing tutorial and her singing) she may start enjoying your company!

So, while you're choosing a unit to start with, she just stands there and waits. She wonder what unit you'll choose. All of them have other versions of herself, but they all different personalities, so I think they're like different people. Even to og Miku in the beginning.

After that you play the story. Imagine the units surprise, when one day they start feeling someone looking over them. Like fr-

Depending on their personality, they were either a bit scared/paranoid, or just shrugged it off.

While the game was downloading after you played the first chapter, the unit you have chosen starts slowly becoming aware of someone looking over them. They're not aware yet, but they know they're watched.

Probably have mixed feelings about it. Is it some stalker???

As you proceed in the game, play the story of all units and virtual singers, play the events and rhyme game itself,teht become more aware of your existence.

And just like in every self-aware au manner, they start obsessing over you!

I mean, you've been with them for so long! All of them. You've supported in the beginning and still do. How can they not love you?

The unit you've chosen in the beginning are proud tbh. You've chosen them out of all!

Or listened to Miku who recommended them to you based on your answers. But then that means you are similar to them!

Yeah there's no way you're getting out of this one. Everyone would hope that you play *their* unit's songs, and pull their cards. If you have 3d and mv on, then those on your team are trying extra hard, to make sure that they're dancing ☆perfectly☆

Even if you, for example, put Akito on Mizuki's dance moves in IDSMILE, or Kanade on Akito's in ifuudoudou.

You know, I'm pretty sure they can see your profile. And when you put someone as "[Chara Name] fan"

Yeah they're so happy/smug about it!

And you probably get more cards in gacha. They're trying their best okay?

You know their skills make you have more "great" or "perfect" for quite some time right? Ohohoho (wtf with that laugh-) they're now just trying to help you out without it! You seem so happy doing fc or ap!

But some probably will make you lose the game when jealous or to make you pay more attention to them/their song.

I'll rant/talk about it more in the future♡

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caramel-maveeato · 6 months

Text

𝟥:𝟥𝟥 ♡˚₊。。。

❧❤ SYNOPSIS: three among all the times you revived butterflies in his garden... ♡ Pairings/Love interest: So Mun x GN!reader ♡ Genre: fluff ♡ TW: suggestive, detailed descriptions of kissing in part 3, slight cursing, sexual tension but no doing the deed, basically just 3 short fics in the form of 1 long fic because why not ♡ word count: 3.8k

Note: All characters originated from “The Uncanny Counter/Amazing Rumor” except for Y/n. (I love this theme so much wtf why he so pretty)

English is not my first language!!! Sorry in advance if I make any grammar and vocabulary mistakes.

So Mun was one to be driven by love. Whether it’s platonic or romantic, both are irreplaceable in his life.

He didn’t understand why some people dated just to waste their time. Witnessing how strong of a bond his parents shared ever since he was a kid, he believed the wondrous word "lovers" could never be used halfheartedly. That being said, ever since a relationship with you has flowered, merely your existence was already plentiful enough to bring him to his knees.

Once he fell, So Mun unconsciously became a hopeless romantic, hands down.

Every day with you resembled a spring rain, gleaming drops of the sky mizzling outside the closed window; bracingly excited, nonetheless pleasant. Liveliness erupted through every one of his veins when the first thing he saw after a long rest was your sleeping face, savoring in tranquility next to him.

He skimmed his hand—which was lazing around on your hip—over to fix any part of the blanket that had slided off your body. Warm fingers sailed their way down your back and danced along the divine curve. Each stroke was careful enough not to disturb your sleep as the small distance between you two was diminished through his gentle pull.

Laid between the entangled fingers was a vague squeeze. A smile instantly pervaded his face just from the sight of your eyelids slowly fluttering open, his own image mirroring in those crystalline pupils: “Good morning, baby.”

“Morning…” There it was, your raspy morning voice that he looked forward to every day: “What time is it?”

He glanced at the clock, his digits soothing your upper back and shoulder blazes: “It’s still early; you can go back to sleep.”

Your habit of always waking up beside each other had almost been set in stone—whether in the back seat of the car, the dinner table, or even in the middle of the boxing ring—to the point that all of your accustomed actions had become so predictable for So Mun that he could correctly guess what gestures you’d impulsively do every time morning knocked on your door.

Drowsiness straggled on your eyelids as you let darkness cloak your vision. You drew a tiny hum, your body moved on its own from the guidance of the familiar warmth and soon enough, you were secured inside his embrace again: “Just… ten more minutes.”

Habit or not, he didn’t mind how effortlessly you could accelerate the rhythm of his heart: “Sure.”

“Actually…” The elation on So Mun’s face dilated through the tenderness of your hair scratching on his skin, tiny nuzzles of your nose followed by faint inhales and exhales on his neck. His heart swelled when kisses like a touch of a delicate wing brushing against his Adam’s apple: “Maybe more than ten.”

He laughed, habitually running a hand through your hair: “How about twenty minutes?”

“As long as possible. I want to stay like this for a while longer.” Your arm returned to its home around him, fingers enveloped in an instinctive grasp to anchor yourself to a sense of amenity you could only find around So Mun. His morning routine would never be fulfilled without you clinging onto him for at least a lasting moment: “Is that okay?”

You were too dozy to catch onto how his chest faintly vibrated with a chuckle, how a lovely softness perched on the top of your head, nor how a flurry of tiny feathers had taken flight inside him—like songbirds broke free from a hidden cage, euphonious symphony merging into the sky through chaotic felicity. It was haywire, but he loved it:

“Of course, sleepyhead.”

Cooking is a boyfriend’s duty, so unless it was your own wish, he never let you work a single muscle while in the kitchen.

It was one of the rare occasions that his grandparents were out of town to visit a relative. And so he anticipated such a perfect opportunity for an indoor date, wasted no time welcoming you into the house.

A variety of home-made snacks and bags of chips hung around on top of the cabinet. Comfortable silence accompanied him as he stood pouring your favorite soda into an iced cup, completely oblivious to you—whom he supposed was still sitting on the couch scrolling through a long list of movies—already sneaking up to him from behind, footsteps soundless.

With a quiet and almost imperceptible approach, you closed your arms around his waist, physically declaring your profound adoration for your boyfriend: “Hi!”

“Hi, baby.” Your sudden display of affection momentarily startled him, and So Mun laughed at himself just as quickly for flinching. Or maybe he wasn’t flinching. After all, you could never scare him.

Perhaps his heart jumped from a swarm of fireflies that burst out; something inside him fluttered like leaves in the chilly breeze, carrying him away by a whirlwind of emotion when your chin rested on his shoulder, face nesting in the nape of his neck.

He giggled, placing the empty can of soda down and wrapping his hand around yours: “What are you doing?”

Despite not facing you, he knew a cheeky grin had already plastered across your face: “What do you think I’m doing?”

So Mun tilted his head back to rest against your own, his words coming out a bit cheesier than he intended. Not that you’d mind it: “It’s not fair, I can’t hug you back like this.”

“How about you endure it for a bit more? Because I’m, in fact…”

Your digits traced the fabric of his shirt, one hand of yours retreated from his waist and slided up along his shoulder, quietly brushing the disheveled curls aside. Giving no warning, you closed the final gap between your lips and his exposed flesh, dipping a secretive kiss into the warmth of your whispering voice: “...enjoying this way too much.”

He tensed up. A shiver of delight cascaded down his spine, like a field of wildflowers had sprung to life in every corner of his being. The more your lips dragged along the back of his neck, the more he felt his ears burn up under the temptation of your peppering kisses:

“That’s cheating.”

“Cheating?” The remaining embrace on his torso gently tightened, another peck spraying on his skin to fill in the pause between your responses: “Am I not even allowed to kiss my boyfriend?”

A hint of embarrassment can be heard in his voice, but he made no effort to squirm off your grasp: “You know very well what you’re doing, Y/n…”

Every little peck left a tingling sensation in its wake. Open-mouthed kisses you showered him with conveyed gentle provocation. Your fingers fluently grazed through his mullet, making more space for a series of affectionate assaults to scatter along his delicate neck: “I can’t help it, it’s a tradition that neck kisses take place wherever back hugs are.”

So Mun’s heartbeat thundered loudly in his ears, and his upper body would intermittently twitch when some of your kisses were so tender that they turned ticklish. He sighed, his little act of bashfulness was quick to be betrayed by his own chuckle before it could even emerge: “Just so you know, you’re going to pay for this.”

“If you want to threaten me, you should do better.” You evilly blew a hot bit of air into his nape and the ticklishness instantly pulled a reaction out of him: “Because when you make it sound like that, you know I only look forward to it.”

Your little victory didn’t last long as So Mun broke the hug, turning around to meet his eyes with yours. Once your gazes collided, you were too busy drinking in his handsome features to notice a firm grip had already settled under your thighs. And just in a blink of an eye, the solidity of the floor under your feet completely evaporated.

His movement was so nimble that it sent you dumbfounded for a second. Both of your hands quickly clutched on him for security. But as soon as he lowered you on a hardened surface, heat began to smear through your face as you stared at him in astonishment, eyes widened and lips parted like that one surprised Pikachu meme.

So Mun stood between your legs, leaning slightly closer to you and the dining table he placed you on, his voice softened as the air hung heavy with anticipation: “I can tell you do look forward to this, love.”

The look of awe in your eyes prompted a satisfied smirk from him. He was proud to have successfully flustered you and he didn't even try to hide it: “Did I surprise you?”

“Would be lying if I said you didn’t. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You blinked a few times, a supposed reply gave up for a shy giggle. Your smile stretched goofily when he pinched on one of your cheeks that had been painted pink:

"Yeah, you're having a good time on this table, aren't you?"

You drew your hands up on his shoulders, subtly pulling him closer, your legs lingering on both sides of his hips: “So, what do you plan on doing to me now?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He tilted his head and smiled—one that never failed to sweep you off your feet. He knew he was fine, and you agreed to that statement with your whole being.

“It is obvious, but I’d prefer you say it out loud.”

“Hmm…”

“C’mon, say it.”

“I’m going to finish up what you’ve started.” His warm fingers spoke of unvoiced desire and reluctant constraint, hovering just above your waist while he gazed into your eyes for permission: “Can I?””

“Nothing is stopping you, my dear.” Asking for consent before initiating is always so goddamn attractive of him, and who are you to reject such a sweet offer: “Go for it however you want.”

He wasted no time attaching his lips to yours as a silent thank you. His pace was slow but packed with profuse excitement, plump lips soon marching down the underside of your jaw to your neck.

The first kiss he planted was almost too light to savor, meant to make sure there wouldn’t be any last second change of heart from you although he knew you were no less than him aching for this—judging from how your head voluntarily threw backwards and your arms clasped around him in an effort to banish the space between you two.

With an exchange of kisses and cheerful smiles, the kitchen abruptly became more than just a place for cooking. You closed your eyes and granted him full-right over the adventure on your skin, but the buttery scent of freshly popped popcorn instantaneously snapped you out of your daze: “Mun, what about the movie?”

A nonchalant hum echoed against your skin, remaining hidden behind a loving kiss: “That can wait.”

Before switching to the new hideout, the basement of Eonnie’s Noodle was unofficially considered your ideal dating place due to how much So Mun works out.

Since the boxing ring was too publicly arranged, there was no other choice for you but to find a more secluded spot for any possible funny business.

A single window permitted trickles of sunlight into the basement, which was dimly illuminated in the serene solitude of the afternoon. You were sitting on the couch scrolling through social media while your boyfriend was productively doing his daily routine, though you honestly didn’t even pay attention to your phone that much. At the end of the day, he was a much, much better sight to admire.

Steadily, So Mun lifted his upper body off the mat, his back curving as he went, then lowered himself back down for another repetition. The rhythmic cadence of his breath infiltrated the atmosphere, mixing with the soft rustling of the exercise mat beneath him.

Time had dashed notably since he started the series of sit-ups, beads of sweat had already glinted on his brow. At one point, the fatigue was gradually waning his strength by the minute, the sounds of his breath came in heavier as evidence of the enlarging weariness.

Moving off the couch, you walked over and knelt down. His eyes thoroughly followed you with a gleam of curiosity as you pressed your palms on top of his feet, keeping them firmly in place: “Need a hand?”

“Yes… thank you.” The anchor he needed was perfectly provided by your supportive hold. So Mun breathed out, just that bit of exhaustion didn’t stop him from smiling brightly at you.

“Glad to be of service.”

You returned the smile with one of your own, watching as he concentrated on finishing the workout set. Unbeknownst to So Mun, helping him stabilize wasn’t the only purpose you had in mind. Your boyfriend had been working hard all day every day, you wouldn’t want to miss this perfect chance of affectionately messing with him.

Quiet counting of each sit-up quickly came to a pause when he saw your body reach forward, confidence resurfacing on the corners of your mouth as you placed your chin on his bent knees with playful flirtatiousness.

The blatant hint quickened his preexistent racing heartbeat, making So Mun swallow thickly: “Is that an invitation?”

You raised your eyebrows, no shame in confirming his suspicion: “Yes, an invitation and a motivation.”

A tint of pink further permeated his already flushed cheeks, whether formed from exercising or the effect you had on him. Either way, you were absolutely loving it.

Chin still rested between his attached knees while you stayed in the same position. Your head tilted slightly to the side, wordlessly emphasizing your offer. This little push certainly did marvels as you caught his dark brown irises darting down to your lips. For a second, you could almost feel the burn his fervent stare left on you.

“How thoughtful of you.” He whispered. There was no sarcasm, just reciprocated playfulness. The exertion resumed and he dropped back to the mat again before ascending upward to you who was also reaching for him, slowly but surely bending forward until your faces were pressed together, his soft lips mingling on yours tentatively.

Your kiss was a touch of a butterfly, but the swirling emotion it brought rushed over to him like a summer rain. He felt you smile against his lips, a tremendously infectious one that caused a smile of his own to bloom as well.

The “motivation” giveaway progressed for a while before So Mun eventually stopped for a breather, propping his hands on his sides for stability. His voice was breathier than normal, unavoidable from the long session of workout he’d strained himself through, yet strangely hushed in a way that things started stirring up inside your chest: “If your primary intention was to distract me, it is working well above and beyond.”

“Oh no, is that a complaint that I hear?” You joked. Both of you knew damn well he was just as excited because another peck waited no time to land on your lips right after the question.

“I didn’t say that.” His gaze escorted you as your hands were now withdrawn from his shoes. He relaxed one leg, straightening it against the black mat: “I mean, you should consider ‘distracting’ me more often.”

You laughed: “Straight to the point, huh?”

“I was only being honest! It’s kinda lonely training by myself sometimes, I’d be happy to have a companion stay with me here and there.” So Mun vaguely gave you a shrug, although the way he never vacated your eyes implied that he wasn’t exactly as nonchalant as he tried to present: “Plus, you don’t seem to mind helping me with the sit-ups.”

His excuse was cut in half as you mercilessly exposed him with a proud wink: “I think you just want to see me.”

Hesitation gained no room in your answer and So Mun found himself pouting at that: “Yeah, that’s also one of the reasons.”

Bashfulness clouded inside his throat, if you didn’t happen to be right in front of him, maybe his reply would’ve sounded like an indistinct murmur. You bit the inside of your cheek to not burst out laughing: “Aww, really?”

“You just can’t take me seriously, can you?” He rolled his eyes, letting loose a chuckle to melt into the atmosphere: “Yes, baby. I always want to see you. What’s so wrong about it?”

His thumb sweetly stroked your cheek. The delight in his eyes glistened when you spontaneously angled your face to search for more contact. You didn’t realize how this seemingly innocent gesture could ignite so great of a mental fire, perhaps So Mun had mastered the art of captivating you whenever he’d like: “Us spending time together in everything else is not enough. Even during training, I still want to see you.”

You could feel heat radiating off his skin, and it took all of your sanity to stop your smile from widening. Suddenly, the veil of tension drooped between you was no longer thin, marking the tinge of color on your cheeks even more evident: “Tch, you just had to make everything sound so sweet.”

“Is that so?” He grinned, gliding up along your arm before his fingers encircled it. Then, he slightly bent forward—a tenuous suggestion that you caught on to right away: “Was it too sweet for your liking?”

At this point, you were programmed to be intuitively drawn into him like a moth flitted into flame. Your self-restraint had left the room yet you couldn’t care less: “It was sugary as hell, but accepted and appreciated.”

“I’m glad you approved.” So Mun chuckled through a half-whisper. The next thing you knew, your lips had connected with his again.

The sensation was perfectly blended like two puzzle pieces completing each other. Taking advantage of your current position you pushed your palm against his bent knee and knocked his legs apart, climbing over on top of him. Your other hand rested on his shoulder as an affirmation of dominance as you pressed him flat down on the exercise mat, your lips still joined like an unbreakable knot.

A dull, nearly inaudible thud echoed throughout the basement as he fell backward. However, the sound of hurried gasping was close to completely concealing it. So Mun’s adoration for each time you took the lead was impractical to convert into words. Especially when it’s not an everyday matter that he’d be locked underneath you like this, your lips crushing and caressing him with breathtaking friction, drowning him in the ocean of butterflies he created himself.

With every passing second, the butterflies appeared increasingly vibrant, their presence peculiarly resembling a secret uttered as a reminder that he was alive. So Mun’s lips moved in tandem with your own, eyes shut tight to intensify the passion to the utmost. The kiss itself remained just as sweet as how you taste, bearing unspoken fervor in each dance and he couldn’t help but yearn for more.

Your fingertips were occupied on his cheek and the underside of his jaw, forcing his face up for easier access. Yet, every time your tongue swiped over his bottom lip, feeding his expectation for a deeper kiss, you always managed to retreat too fast for his craving. The soft groan of need earned himself a snicker from your side, certifying that your moment of affection had somehow progressed into a battle of teasing and hunting.

This was where you knew whatever you plotted just came out successful. So Mun chased you up despite already being helpless beneath you, trying to fill the gap between your parted lips with his tongue which you happily fought back with the same tactic, off and on nibbling on his lower lip. But what you didn’t foresee was a flip in position when he suddenly rolled you over, effortlessly overthrowing the control you held within a heartbeat.

As soon as your whimper of surprise was heard, So Mun ducked down and overpowered you by molding his mouth against yours, finally taking what he had longed for. Your fingers dug into his curls uncaring about the slight wetness grazing your hand as the result of his previous training, tugging a low grunt out of the back of his throat. Intoxication detonated where your lips were encountered. The contact was identical to walking on air, a feather-light buoyancy elevating spirits.

He broke apart, giving the two of you a breather. His round eyes stuck on your face while you tried to regulate your breath, not looking any better than him with your swollen lips moistened by his saliva, or maybe your own? The answer wouldn’t matter anyway.

“One more?” A certain hunger exuded from him in a way that was remarkably thrilling. Rosiness engulfed his face and his lips pinkened from making out—a side of him only you were allowed to see. And once he recognized pure desperation in your half-lidded eyes, he smiled, his voice soft but hoarse under the influence of his feverish need: “One more.”

You’d be a liar if you said this wasn’t the hottest fucking thing you’ve witnessed in your life.

Time stopped and flied every time your mouths glued together and pulled apart. You were kissed into losing all perceptions by now, capable of doing nothing but huffing and puffing underneath his body.

“What got you so riled up?” You asked between the shallow breaths, sounding so innocently as if it was him who turned out to be the rise of his own eagerness.

“Are you seriously asking that question?” He jerked up one of his brows, moving a strand of hair off your forehead: “It was you who started the whole thing.”

Your hand gently squeezed his where they were still intertwined: “Guilty and proud of it.”

“Of course you’d say that.” His minty breath strenuously washed over your face. You inhaled deeply to seek out the familiar scent he carried; for some reason it smelled even more addictive due to a hint of sweat and a flow of devotion. Combined with desire as well, that’s for sure.

Those couple of inches between your mouths were awfully tempting. So Mun dipped his face, aiming straight at your lips but he abruptly stopped before another kiss could take place, mumbling softly against your mouth as he grinned: “You’re going to get us in trouble someday, you know that?”

Your free hand was clasped on the crook of his neck, bracing yourself for what your boyfriend had planned out for you. With obviously messy hair and reddened lips, you’d pray for your teammates to not accidentally walk in or take notice of your aftermath appearance when you exited the basement. But eventually that thought was the least important to you right now:

“I think it’s supposed to be you who is going to get us in trouble someday, So Mun-ah.”

[Tag List] ✿⌦ @slytherinshua (feel free to notify me if you want to be on the tag list)

I could've finished this fic last week but my procrastination fucked me up so... Sorry for taking too long i hope this is worth the wait

#so mun x reader #the uncanny counter x reader #the uncanny counter #uncanny counter #kdrama x reader #kdrama #so mun #pookie please come home 🏠

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captaindanvers89 · 8 months

Text

What if everytime Beatrice drinks; she changes personality like Amy from B99?

One drink: Starts to unwind/ relax

Two drink: Lets her hair down and stops looking for exits

Three drinks: starts dancing

Four drinks: only speaks in Latin/ French/ Spanish, whatever fits her mood really

Five drinks: starts complimenting every woman that comes into the bar (Ava is not happy)

Six drinks: starts trying to have public sex with Ava/ horny Bea comes out

Seven drinks: starts crying at everything

Eight drinks: challenges everyone to fight her for Ava’s affections

Nine drinks: shows off her aikido moves and knife collection (wtf does she keep her many many knives in those clothes?”

Ten drinks: makes up her own language, it’s a mix of all of those languages she knows but it has proper grammar, sentence structure and everything

#warrior nun #ava silva #sister beatrice #avatrice #warrior nun incorrect

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blossomwritesthings · 1 year

Note

Hyunjin sickfic when. *folds arms waiting patiently* 🤭

I love your writing sm I’m gonna cry

𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐠𝐨

pairing: hyunjin x fem!reader (afab)

genre: sick!fic. idol!hyunjin. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. reader pov. established relationship.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. hospital visit. this one's got angst in it. reader is sick (with a sprained ankle). hyunjin is worried af, as he should be lmao. reader has low self-esteem w/her dancing abilities, and has difficulty opening up about how she truly feels. pet names (affectionately). toothe-rotting fluff.

word count: 6.3k (yikes got carried away with this one wtf)

summary: it's been proving to be very difficult to keep the dance class that you take three times a week a secret from your boyfriend hyunjin. and the lies only become even harder to tell when you suddenly hurt your foot during class one night.

a/n: originally, i was planning on posting this yesterday as a kind of valentine's day gift for you guys, but then uni homework raw-dogged me like a total bitch and i got fucked over with a horrible migraine later in the night... i love my life!!! 😊 anyways, this was really fun to write- i FUCKING ADORE SOFT HYUNJIN!!! 😭 thanks for requesting, @hyungenie5... i hope this little piece of writing is to your liking, and thanks for your support~ 🤍

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The dance class was supposed to remain a secret. No one - not even your boyfriend Hyunjin - was supposed to know that you were taking it until it was long over in the summer. By the end of the class, you hoped that your skills would improve immensely and that you’d be able to join your boyfriend in the studio some time to dance with him.

But unfortunately, those grand plans all came to a halt late one Friday night.

When you were practicing a certain twirl that had been giving you a hard time for the past week. For some reason, one of the laces of your sneakers had come undone. And this prompted you to trip over it when you suddenly came out of the spin.

You landed on the ground in a heap of limbs, clenching down hard on your jaw at the feel of a sharp pain shooting through your left ankle. The ache was agonizing, and it took everything in you to not scream out in anguish at the feeling that had quickly exploded inside your ankle.

Soon, your classmates rushed over and helped you off of the floor and onto a nearby bench, where your teacher took a look at your foot.

“It doesn’t look too bad, it’s just a bit swollen from the impact,” she said, peering up at you, a sheen of sweat glistening across her exposed forehead. It was sweltering in the practice room at the gym where you were taking the lessons, and everyone crowding around you was out of breath from the routine that the class had been practicing tirelessly for the last month or so. “I’d advise you to keep off of it as much as you can for the next few days and ice it every night. Don’t come into class Monday and instead give it a rest, and it should be better by the next session on Wednesday.” Your teacher instructed you, before giving your knee a gentle squeeze and going back to a group of students who needed her advice on a certain move. You had class every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday late in the night, but surprisingly, the sessions were always packed with wannabe dancers, even late into the night. It just proved how many people desperately wanted to become better dancers. And you were one of those ‘people.’

“Can you make it to your car alone?” One of your classmates asked. You looked up at Yejun, offering her a smile that quickly turned into a grimace of pain. You had met her soon after you started the class, and the two of you had grown closer over the past few months.

But no one knew who you were dating - who your boyfriend of three years was. They couldn’t know, otherwise, that would jeopardize everything Hyunjin did for work and your entire livelihood. So, you mostly stayed silent about the intimate details of your personal life with everyone else and opted to talk about the surface-level things in your life.

“Yeah, I don’t think I can do it,” you laughed in a humorless kind of way. Without another word, Yejun was picking up the large duffle bag that you always brought with you to practice. Then, she was slipping an arm around your waist and leading you out of class and through the spacious gym. It was still relatively busy even for it being so late in the night on a Friday.

“You promise that you’re gonna rest?” She rose a black, perfectly-manicured eyebrow your way as you shuffled out of the main doors of the gym.

And even though you had only known her for a few months, she could get a pretty good read on you. How you didn’t like asking people for help and how you tended to bottle things up all of the time. You had done such a thing since you were a very little girl, and you supposed there was no changing the way your mind was built. Even still, this aspect of your personality drove Hyunjin insane. He’d pry and pry and pry for you to tell him what was truly wrong with you, and it’d take more than just a few kisses and gentle words to finally get you to talk. It didn’t matter who you were with - who you were talking to - you just… couldn’t talk about really personal stuff most of the time.

“Yeah, yeah- I’ll rest all this weekend.” You rolled your eyes at Yejun as you stopped just in front of your car. You pulled out your keys, unlocking the doors before throwing your duffle bag into the backseat.

“Okay, well… drive safe and take it easy, yeah?” She mumbled, pulling you into a gentle hug, and you gave her a quick pat on the back before pulling away. “See you on Wednesday?”

You flashed her a playful wink, “Sure thing!” You waved her off as you slipped into the driver’s seat of your car. Your friend returned the gesture before she turned around and jogged back into the gym.

As soon as she was out of sight, you let out the moan of misery that you had been holding in for the last few minutes. The pain seemed to shoot through your ankle in quick increments, traveling up the length of your leg and pooling in your knee.

Holding onto the steering wheel with a death-like grip, you took a few deep breaths. The ache wouldn’t be this bad forever. You just needed to ice it. Just follow what your teacher told you to do, and you’ll be fine. You said all of these things and more to yourself inside your head as you turned your key in the car's socket and the car’s ignition roared to light.

Just get home and get in bed, and then everything will be alright.

But everything was not alright.

This was made so apparent when you stood in front of your apartment door and the remembrance dawned on you that Hyunjin had the entire weekend off. So that meant that he would be home earlier than he usually would be on a Friday night. And since it was a quarter-past-eleven at night, he was sure to be home.

Fuck.

It had already been an entire production getting out of your car and into your apartment’s elevator, what with your limping form and all. But now you had to face your very own boyfriend, who wasn’t even aware that you were taking a dance class in the first place. You wanted it to be a surprise for him. You had always been self-conscious about your dance skills ever since you were a little girl.

And then you went ahead and started dating one of the best dancers in all of the Kpop industry. As a consequence, your self-esteem in the dancing department tanked astonishingly low. You’d regularly join Hyunjin in the studio late at night at the company, and sometimes he’d try to teach you some of Stray Kids choreo. But most of the time, you made a complete fool of yourself, and instead opted to just watch him from the sidelines. Watch in silence, offering praise when you could, about how perfect his angles were, how amazing his technique was, and how his flow and rhythm were impeccable with the music.

Meanwhile, deep inside your mind, you were playing the same thought over and over again; why can’t you just be a better dancer like him? Why can you just not suck at it, for once in your damn life? He probably thinks your horrible, and he’s right… no wonder why he stopped offering you teach you.

But in the new year, finally feeling fed up from always feeling shitty when your boyfriend would show you a video of his dance practices, or when you’d watch him in the studio, you decided to sign up for the beginner's contemporary dance class at your local gym.

It was daunting, at first, to go by yourself without knowing anyone there, but soon, you got used to the feeling and genuinely started to enjoy your time spend in the studio. It was hard work, that was for sure, but you liked the idea of finally finishing it in the early spring and then surprising your amazingly-talented dancer boyfriend with the choreo that you had learned and practiced tirelessly for the past few months, unbeknownst to him.

To keep the class a secret from Hyunjin, you had lied and told him that you were going to the local gym and lifting weights. And it wasn’t a complete lie, because technically, you were at the gym. You just weren’t lifting any weights.

Nevertheless, Hyunjin had been hesitant about the idea. Especially since you would be coming and going so late at night. At first, he had protested against it because of how many creeps could be hanging around the gym that late at night. He didn’t want you willingly putting yourself in any danger from being out so late alone. But, after much negotiation and pleading on your part, you had managed to convince him to be okay with it. And then, you were off… attending the class three times a week and absorbing the lessons like a little ocean sponge out in deep sea waters.

You gathered up all of the courage you still had inside of you as you shuffled across the apartment’s threshold. A couple of the lights were left on in the living room, and dim classical music was filtering out through the nearby room to the right of you. Hyunjin’s art studio. The two of you had chosen this specific apartment to rent out because it offered two bedrooms, and the space that he wanted to make his office had an amazing, large bay window that showcased a huge portion of Seoul's cityscape. The view in there was breathtaking and was the key inspiration for a lot of his recent art pieces.

A sigh of relief fled from your lips as you dropped your duffle bag down on the nearby dining room table and made to get some ice for your foot. Your entire body was sticky from your dried sweat, and you longed to hop into the shower for a nice cool-off. Just as soon as you ice your ankle.

Just as you were filling up a small plastic bag of ice, you heard a door open behind you. Then, in a few beats, you felt two long arms wrap around your waist from behind. If you weren’t in so much pain at that moment, you would’ve been happy to feel Hyunjin’s presence at your back. But mostly, you just felt exhausted and irritable. And these were two things that didn’t mix well together.

“Welcome home, sweetheart,” he muttered, as he leaned down with his tall frame to pepper gentle kisses against your shoulder. “How was your workout?”

“Fine, I guess.” You said in a slightly-dismissive tone, as you finished filling up your baggie with ice.

“And why in the world are you filling up a plastic bag with ice?”

Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach at his question. Because in your state of discomfort and exhaustion, you hadn’t thought out the lie that you would have to tell him for why you could barely fucking walk. And you definitely couldn’t tell him to the extent that the pain was at. But there was no getting around the fact that you had hurt yourself, so better to tell a small white lie than ignore it entirely.

“I, uh- kinda hurt my foot when I was working out with weights tonight, but I’m okay.” You said, trying to keep your voice light and airy.

Immediately as the words fell from your lips, Hyunjin was turning you around. His eyes raked over your face, assessing your neutral expression before flitting down to the rest of your body. Like he’d be able to see any other injuries you hadn’t told him about if he looked hard enough.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His brows were furrowed in worry, the concern blatantly shining in his dark brown eyes. His fingers brushed across your cheek, before tucking a few stray, sweaty strands of your hair behind your ear.

You gave him a soft smile, leaning up to ruffle his fluffy, peachy-pink hair a little bit. “Yes babe, I’m fine.”

“Then, you should rest and use the ice pack.”

You gave him a sardonic grin, “That’s what I was trying to do before you stopped my plans and started to grill me with questions.”

He slipped his arms from your hips and reluctantly stepped away from your frame to allow you space to continue your routine. But not before he leaned down into you with his towering form and pressed a gentle kiss against your lips. And if your foot didn’t currently hurt like a bitch, you probably would’ve melted into his embrace and let him hold and kiss you for a long time after that. Instead, you just felt like a sweaty ball of painful shit and wanted to hop into bed as soon as possible.

“I’ll be in my office if you need anything…” Hyunjin’s delicate voice stayed with you in the kitchen, as he trekked back to the door to his office.

You quickly grabbed a kitchen dish towel to use to wrap around your bag of ice. “Alright. I’m going to take a quick shower and then head to bed.”

“I’ll be there in a little while,” your boyfriend said, and when you looked up at him, he was giving you this sweet, pure look of devotion. But it was also mixed with a tad bit of unease. He never did like the idea of you being injured in any way. “Try to get some rest, yeah?”

“Sure, baby,” you flashed him a wink, “but only if you come to bed relatively early tonight.” It seemed like he was always slipping into bed late these days… curling up behind you well past three in the morning. He proclaimed that it was only because inspiration struck him the strongest late into the night, and while you weren’t one to stand between an artist and their craft, there had to be a better solution for inspiration than ruining his entire sleep schedule.

“I'll sure try, sweetheart.” Hyunjin’s soft voice followed behind you, as you made your way to your shared bedroom.

At least you weren’t the only one who told lies in the relationship.

The next day, your foot hurt like a literal bitch all day long. The pain wasn’t too bad after you first woke up, and upon icing it for a little while, it felt somewhat better. But then you went about the apartment doing the chores that you usually did every Saturday, and the discomfort returned tenfold.

At one point, it was so bad that when you sat down on the living room couch for a few minutes to give it a rest, you could barely get up again. And when you untucked your sock after lunch, you noticed how your left foot was looking a little… discolored. Some parts of your ankle were grayed, and a tiny bit of swelling was present too. But you had hurt it in dance, so that was to be expected.

You tried to hide the agony that you were in from your boyfriend, but being the perceptive man that he was, he automatically picked up on it. After all, he had become attuned over the years to understanding when you were feeling shitty since it took you so long to admit to him how you were feeling. Throughout the day, he’d ask you if you were okay and force you to sit down for a few minutes to ice the hurting foot.

But it was after dinner that he finally decided to put his foot down about the whole thing. He had dragged you over to the living room couch, practically throwing you onto the plush cushions before plopping down beside you.

“And what gives you the right to think you can throw me around like your own personal rag doll?” You asked, playfulness dripping from your tone. You turned to him and rose a quizzical eyebrow his way as he turned on the tv and flipped through Netflix to find a movie to watch. The usual thing that you two liked to do every Saturday night; was curl up on the couch and get all cozy with each other. The movie nights either ended in one of two ways, cuddling until you both fell asleep right then and there, or making out and soon traveling into the bedroom for a long night of fun.

“I’m forcing you to take a break, that’s what I’m doing,” he leveled you with a serious face, a slight frown pulling his mouth downwards.

You folded your arms across your chest defensively, “I don’t need a break, babe. I’m fine.”

“Oh yeah? Well then, I guess I’ve just been imagining all of the pained faces that you’ve been making all day, or that perpetual furrow in your brow that you always get when you’re holding something in?” Hyunjin said, voice completely flat. Just then he reached out to you, wrapping a long arm around your waist and yanking you close to his side before tucking a fuzzy blanket around the two of you.

“I’m not furrowing my brows.” You said defensively, even though you had given up on fighting him any longer. Honestly, you were a little too tired from all of the hurt and activity of the day to care. So you snuggled deeper against him, slinging your arms around his waist and breathing in his scent of fresh linen and sweet roses. “And besides, the apartment needed cleaning. A bad foot wasn’t going to stop me from completing my mission.” You had taken some pain medication soon after lunch, but since it was late into the night, it had worn off. You’d have to take some before you went to bed, but it didn’t seem to help that much, since you had still been in pain even after taking it in the middle of the day.

“Just shut up and relax, will ya?” Your boyfriend all but grumbled, as he finally selected some random thriller to watch. You hid your smile behind your blanket as you felt him lean down and press a few kisses atop the crown of your head. “Just want you to feel better, my love…”

You turned your head up on his shoulder so that you were staring right into his expressive dark-brown eyes. “And I already do feel better just with your kisses alone.” A smirk spread across your mouth, as you leaned into him and your mouths met again in a soft kiss.

Your boyfriend motioned with his head to the flashing tv screen in front of the two of you, “Now, let’s focus on the movie so that you can get your mind off of the discomfort.”

A few giggles escaped from deep inside of you at his serious tone. He truly did care a lot about you and your well-being. And so that’s why you didn’t want to tell him how bad the pain was. Because you knew that as soon as you told him, he’d get himself all worked up into a tizzy and obsess over your health until you were back to one-hundred-and-twenty percent. Would practically nurse you back to health, ignoring all of his other duties at the company until he could confirm with his own two eyes that his girlfriend was feeling much better than before.

So you stayed silent, refraining from revealing to him how much agony you truly were in from your foot alone. You turned your attention to the movie in front of you.

And the feel of his long, muscular arms wrapped around your waist and squeezing slightly, the comforting sense of his warm body just beside yours, did wonders to the pain. It worked better than any of the medicine in the entire world, and you soon found yourself completely ignoring and forgetting the ache that was shooting through your foot and up into your veins and instead was basking in the feel and smell of your very loving boyfriend.

“Sweetheart, do you want to stop and take a rest for a minute?” Hyunjin asked you in a gentle voice the next day. What with it being Sunday and since the two of you were still off from work, you had decided to spend the day out on the town - shopping around.

You two had already eaten a sweet breakfast of pastries and coffee at a local cafe and were currently walking the streets of Hongdae, in search of a matching set of hoodies that fit both of your styles perfectly. So far, you had had no luck at the boutiques that you had already searched. The fuzzy hoodies were either too frilly or too plain...

You shook your head vehemently, “No, I’m fine… don’t worry about me.” But you knew you telling him that would only make him worry even more. Since your foot only hurt even worse when you woke up early that morning. The pain throbbed up your leg now, and it felt like somehow was grasping harshly at your left ankle bone every time you walked on it, rattling the thing bitterly.

You were practically limping pathetically at your boyfriend's side, desperate hands clutching at his arm to stop you from completely toppling over into a pile of weak limbs right there. Because that’s what you were feeling at that exact moment; weak.

Hyunjin ran a frustrated hand through his peachy-pink locks, an exasperated sigh flooding from his lips, “I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to us going out today-” He started to grumble beside you.

Just then, the two of you stepped over a particular area of sidewalk that was somewhat cracked in the middle. And of course, your left shoe - your bad foot - just had to get caught in the tiny space there. Immediately, your body hurled to the ground as you grasped for your boyfriend. Thankfully, he caught you just in time before you hit the asphalt, pulling you up onto your feet again.

And when you stood straight once more, the agony only intensified even more so. Feeling so overwhelmed by it, and so, so weary with sudden despair, a tiny cry escaped past your lips as your legs gave out from underneath you. Toppling onto the ground in a heap of exhaustion, the tears were freely flowing down your cheeks.

Hyunjin was already crouching at your side, one arm wrapped around your waist. “Darling, what’s wrong-” He began, the worry seeping from his tone.

“It’s hurts, Hyunjin… like, a lot…” You managed to get out in between your sobs. Your vision was blurry from your tears, cheeks warm to the touch at the embarrassment of feeling others' eyes on you as they passed by on the street.

But not another word needed to be spoken, as you were soon being lifted into your boyfriend’s arms. And a moment later, he was gently placing you down on a nearby bench.

He was then crouching in front of your feet, gently grasping at your left foot and holding it out to him slowly. “Can I take a look at it, sweetheart?” He asked you with all of the tenderness in the world. The look in his eyes then- one of pure apprehension and heartache did something funny to your heart and only made you cry even harder. You nodded your head in silent approval.

Heart beating wildly inside your chest, you waited, and watched in bated since, as your boyfriend gingerly slipped off your thin sneaker. With thin, nimble fingers, he slid your baby-blue sock down and off of your foot.

And the moment he saw what lay underneath, he gasped audibly. Your foot was steadily turning purple and blue and was swollen all around the ankle. Eyes completely focused on your foot, Hyunjin turned your foot from either side, inspecting it diligently.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of looking at it, he stared up at you with wide eyes. The heartbreaking look in them told you all you needed to know- the way that his lips slightly fell open in his surprise, jaw clenching in anger. “B-Baby, has it looked like this since you got home from the gym on Friday?” His fingers gently swept over the bone that was slightly protruding out to the side near your ankle.

The tears had begun to slow down, leaving wet trails down either of your heated cheeks. Sniffling, you meekly nodded your head yes in answer. “Why? Is it that bad?”

A deep crease formed between his dark brows, and his blush-pink hair blew in the cool February breeze that suddenly swept across the streets at that moment. “Sweetheart, this looks really- really bad,” his eyes flitted down to your foot again, which he was still holding in one of his palms. “I’ve seen a lot of injuries, and I know the signs… honey, I think you’ve sprained it.”

Your heart plummeted into the pit of your stomach. “W-What? But… how could that be? It’s not like I-” Your voice took on an incredulous tone, but before you could say anything else, your boyfriend was moving your foot again, turning it slightly so that he could slip your sock back on. You hissed in discomfort, biting down hard on your bottom lip to quell the moan that wanted to bubble up and out of you just then. The pain was unbearable.

Your boyfriend stood up from the ground, fitting two hands around your waist and helping you rise from the bench. He slipped an arm around your hips, securing you to his side as you slowly began to shuffle down the street, going backward from the way you had just come from. “C’mon, we gotta get you to the hospital.” He said, leading you two away from the shops that you had been at for the last few hours.

“Hospital? No- that’s not necessary, I just need to… rest at home, that’s all…” Your voice trailed off as another wave of pain throbbed through your tender foot.

Hyunjin leveled you with a glare. “It’s either you come with me willingly, or I carry you in my arms bridal style. Either way, you’re fucking going to the hospital.” The way he said the last of his words in that deathly-low tone sent a chill down your spine. Because you knew it all too well since he’d only use it on you when you were being particularly stubborn. And almost always, it was during a time when you weren’t taking any regard for your health, and Hyunjin had to force you to do the things necessary to practically stay alive.

“O-Okay…” You whispered. You struggled along beside him, fingers holding on tight to his thick brown winter jacket. “Just… don’t let go?” You stared up at him with big eyes, lip quivering a little bit from the pain of having to walk and put pressure on your bruised foot.

“Never, sweetheart.” He brought you closer to him then, practically wrapping both arms around your waist and helping you along the sidewalk as you slowly made your way back to his car.

“Well, you have a sprained ankle,” the nurse told you a few hours later. She was a rather short, petite-looking woman, with long, black hair swept up into a tight braid at the back of her head. “You’ll need to diligently rest for the next… four to six weeks. The doctor suggested using an ice pack for twenty minutes a few times a day, to help with the swelling.”

After you and Hyunjin had left Hongdae, it was only a matter of time before he found the nearest hospital and checked you into the Emergency Room there. After waiting for a little over an hour, you were finally called back into one of the exam rooms. It merely took the nurse and doctor one look at your ankle to confirm that it was sprained. After the doctor’s assessment, the nurse filed back into the room to hand you some paperwork to fill out.

During the entire visit, Hyunjin was sitting beside your hospital bed in a small chair, clutching onto your hand as you awaited the news of your diagnosis. He let out a sigh of relief at the news of it only being a sprain since he had been worrying that it was broken instead.

“And don’t walk on it,” the nurse continued, as she handed you a bottle of prescribed high-dosage pain medications. “I understand that it will be difficult to assimilate to a less active lifestyle for some time, but please remember that if you walk on it, doing so can put you at risk for horrible complications in the future and hinder you from achieving a full recovery.”

“I understand, thank you so much,” you said, giving her a soft smile as you fit the bottle of pain meds into your nearby purse. Your boyfriend was still clutching onto your hand, fingers squeezing a little too tightly as you positioned yourself back on the bed.

"I’ll give you two a few minutes, and then come back to assist you in checking out at the front desk.” The nurse returned your smile and bowed slightly at you and Hyunjin before making her way out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind her.

Immediately, your boyfriend turned to you with a deep frown. “And you’ve been walking on a sprained ankle for the past… three days.” He shook his head in disapproval, running a frantic hand through your hair. “Honestly, Y/N, I don’t understand why you do this to yourself- why you do it to me…”

Training your focus down at your lap, your fingers absently played with a loose strand from your thick winter sweater. “It’s not like I mean to not tell you stuff. It just… happens.”

“And you said you got this from lifting weights at the gym?”

His question forced your head to shoot up without you even thinking about it, eyes locking with his as he sat just beside you in his tiny vinyl chair. “Y-Yeah… I must’ve used the barbell wrong or something.” You laughed a little anxiously, heart beating painfully against your ribcage.

Because he couldn’t find out. It was downright embarrassing to think about him knowing you had been taking dance classes. But you also wanted to keep it a surprise for him, when you eventually performed your routine for him - not like that would happen anytime soon though, since you would be on bed rest for the foreseeable future.

Hyunjin brought his hand away from yours then, folding his arms across his chest stubbornly, crossing his legs together and giving you a knowing look. “I call bullshit. You don’t get a strained ankle from lifting a few pounds.”

“And how do you know that, mister?”

“Because I’ve seen the guys get injured from lifting before, but it never has to do with their ankles.”

“Well, maybe I’m the exception.”

“Cut the crap, sweetheart,” his voice came out a little cold just then, eyes raking over your form, studying your face to gauge your emotions at that moment. “Tell me what happened on Friday night.”

The embarrassment overtook you again, and you ripped your eyes from his. Focusing once more on your hands, you twisted the end of your sweater around your fingers. There wasn’t any use in keeping the ruse up any longer. It’s not like you’d be dancing the routine any time soon. So, you finally gave in and confessed to your boyfriend in a quiet mumble.

He leaned forward, tilting his body close to yours so that he could hear you better. “I didn’t hear that, love. Speak up.”

Clenching your fists in sudden annoyance, you stared at him, already feeling the crimson pooling in your cheeks. “I said- I was taking a dance class, okay?! And I fell and hurt my ankle- the instructor said it would be fine, but obviously, she isn’t a doctor…”

Silence filled the entire room after that, and it was charged with equal amounts of confusion and hurt. “Why in the world are you taking a dance class?”

“Because- I want to be good at dancing…” You exclaimed, staring into Hyunjin's eyes with what you hoped was a fierce expression. “I fucking suck at it- and- and you’re just so amazing, and I… I wanted to surprise you with a routine that I had learned all on my own. But then, I hurt myself, so that’s never gonna happen now.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Say what?” You canted your head to the side, watching as the emotions erupted across your boyfriend's face. First, it was anger, that you had kept such a secret from him for so long, then it was sadness, that you had felt the need to prove yourself in any way to him.

“Say that you suck at dancing,” he began, as he moved forward and clasped either of your hands in his. He brought them close to his mouth, lips hovering near your skin and pressing a few soft kisses to your knuckles. “You’re great at it, baby, don’t doubt yourself. And I was never amazing right off the bat. It took me a long time and lots of hard work to get where I am today.”

“Yeah, but some people are just naturally born with it, and I don’t think I am. So… that’s why I was trying to improve.” You shrugged slowly, a zap of energy coursing through your veins each time Hyunjin pressed a fervent kiss against your hands.

“Well, I always think that improvement is good. But, there has to be a balance. You can’t simply ignore your health just because you want to get better at something.” Your boyfriend said in a calm voice, the warmth of it vibrating on your flesh and softening some hard part inside of you. “And besides, even if you weren’t born with the gift of dance - which I don’t believe to be true - there are still other gifts that you have that are unique and wonderful to you, baby. You shouldn’t compare yourself to me, or anyone else, for that matter.”

You gave him a frown, eyes locked on his mouth that kept nearing your knuckles and pressing kisses there. “I know, but… it’s just hard sometimes, you know? To be dating such a… talented man.”

A tiny sound of pain - of heartbreak - fled from Hyunjin’s mouth then, and suddenly, he was pulling you towards him. Fitting his arms around your waist, he squeezed on tight. In an instant, you melted into the touch, burrowing yourself into the crook of his neck and inhaling his calming, sweet scent.

“I’m so sorry that you’ve felt like this, sweetheart. I had no idea.” He mumbled close to your ear, imprinting a soft kiss against the exposed skin there. “How can I make it up to you, darling? How can I change things, so that you don’t think so poorly of yourself anymore?”

You positioned yourself away from him a tiny bit, offering him a light smile, “Babe, you don’t have to do anything for me. My low self-esteem when it comes to dancing isn’t your fault, so don’t worry about it.”

He leaned in, kissing your lips gently. “Yes, but I don’t like the thought of you feeling so down about your abilities…” his voice trailed off into silence, as he contemplated what he could do for you. “I know- I’m going to nurse you back to health, and when your ankle is completely healed, I’ll help you continue learning that dance routine from your class. How does that sound, love?”

You kissed him back, hot breaths mingling slightly in the passion of the moment. “I’d like that very much, but… don’t you have your schedules?”

Hyunjin waved a nonchalant hand in the air like he didn’t have so many people expecting high standards from him every single day. “I can still help you and do my job, baby- it isn’t rocket science.”

You contemplated his idea over in your head. You hadn’t liked him trying to teach you different dances in the past, but perhaps that was because of your issues and not because of his teaching. And now that your struggles with the thing were out in the open, you got the feeling that your boyfriend would be extra careful when teaching you - treat you extra gently when explaining certain moves.

“Okay, I like the idea,” you decided, nodding your head slowly in approval. A wide smile cracked across your lips as you stared at his face that was alight with happiness and contentment, “When do we start?”

“How does eight weeks from now sound? To give your ankle plenty of time to heal.”

Gently carding a few fingers through his light, peachy-pink silky locks, you bent into him, the smile still plastered onto your face as you gave his mouth another kiss which felt like the hundredth one in the last hour. “Sounds perfect.” You said, and soon he was smirking against your lips, before tightening his grip around your hips, yanking you ever closer to his form, and smashing his mouth against yours in a fiery, loving kiss.

Fin.

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