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macfrog · 2 months

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san angelo | one shot

what happens when joel miller meets his star-crossed lover?

big love to @mrsmando and @5oh5 for cheering me on with this one, and @bageldaddy for being my eyes, my ears, and - only sometimes - my brain.

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader summary: it's the summer of two thousand eight. after two weeks following his little brother cross-country on the back of a harley, joel follows him through the doors of a dive bar - where fate delivers him to you. warnings: story is inserted into canon, so cordyceps outbreak happens, sarah dies (off-page), joel dissociates, doomed love, lots of mention of fate, alcohol consumption, reader is a smoker, cursing, drunken one-night stand, oral sex, unprotected piv, joel's cock is massive, a lot of angst, a lot of fluff, a lil smut to tie it all together. enjoy! word count: 9.8k

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Palm lines.

It’s the first thing he thinks as soon as she stops moving in his arms. The second her little whimpers cease, the moment her chest stops heaving and her eyes glaze over. Suddenly, Joel’s little girl weighs more than he can bear.

Palm lines. And he has no fucking idea why.

He closes his eyes and there you are. The whir of the ceiling fan, the tinkling of bracelets loose on your wrist. You have sorta earth hands, you told him. Or, well – they could be water, if you look at ‘em this way. I don’t really know. I’m still learning.

You told him that air hands were long, spindly. And Sarah was always a lanky kid – tallest on the soccer team, head and shoulders above the other girls by the third grade. Her hands, he thinks, must be air. They must be.

Her fingers are still twisted around his right now. Lifeless, slippery with the blood still wet and quickly cooling.

Joel cradles her, squeezing so hard that he wonders whether he might be able to fuse their bodies together. Lock them in some white-knuckle grip so that he never has to let go of her – never has to leave this hill covered in dirt and blood.

His palms are ruined; a maroon river carving its way down his heart line, dirt deep in the groove of his life line. Why does he even fucking remember what they’re called?

Why the fuck are you what he’s thinking about, right now?

“Tommy,” he says, opening his eyes again. “We gotta…we gotta get to…”

She’s limp, draped over his thighs as though she’s nothing more than a stretch of crimson curtain. He looks down at her and begs her to come back, begs her to open her eyes and look up at him again.

But the night is passing and she’s still not breathing. Dawn is breaking and Joel’s daughter is dead.

He sucks in a shattered breath. “…to San Angelo, Tommy.”

The younger Miller stuffs his gun into the back of his jeans and paces over, soles coated thick in shit and grass. “I hear you, Joel.”

“You ain’t listenin’ to me, I –”

“I’m listenin’ fine, Joel.” Tommy hooks his hands under his niece’s arms. “Now, help me lift her. We can’t…” his voice strains, fighting the death grip his brother has on the girl, “…we can’t leave her here.”

Joel’s frozen to the spot; sinking further and further into the earth. Staring at his open hands, the stains like rust on his palms. He says to San Angelo again, and Tommy snaps.

“Jesus, Joel, enough! I’ve heard enough goddamn it! I see your hands, now – we gotta fuckin’ bury Sarah.”

Your fate line, your nail tickled, and Joel held his hand steady, It can change, if something big is coming.

Somethin’ big? he asked. A little younger, a lot more naïve. Still a healthy dose of belief in the world, an echo of the god-fearing faith that raised him.

His hand felt so light, cradled in two of yours. He half hoped he’d never have to let go – just lie there with you forever. Your legs tangled with his, the sheets disturbed; the room injected with amber from the streetlights outside.

You nodded. A big shift, or something.

And he scoffed. He actually scoffed, right there and then. Incredulous. The hell kinda big shift is comin’ our way? he asked, laughing.

You just smiled back, shrugging. You were so fucking casual, that whole night. It would’ve unnerved him, if he hadn’t been so swept off by the sparkle in your eye, the glowing cherry of your cigarette.

Guess we just gotta wait ‘n see.

It’s August thirtieth, two thousand eight.

Almost five thousand miles on the back of a Harley, and Joel just wants to go home.

He arches his aching back, palms flat against the crests of his hips, and blinks in the light from the food mart in front of him. Twenty-six, he thinks to himself, only twenty-fuckin’-six.

It’s ninety degrees out. An uncomfortable heat, for a man who feels ten years older than he really is. For a man who hasn’t had a decent shower in almost two weeks. For a man who’s spent the last six hours tailing the brake lights of his little brother’s bike.

The sweat gathers sticky between his shoulder blades, prickles along the nape of his neck. There’s dust spattered down his bare arms and buried in the grooves of his knuckles.

He’s tired. He’s tired, he’s dirty, and goddamn, he wishes he was back home.

He holds a hand up to shield his eyes from the sun, the yellow sky melting to a purple haze. Squinting, he follows the soar of two swallows overhead, looping through the sky, until he’s rubbing the image from his eyes with the back of his wrist.

He’s gotta remember to call Sarah before she goes to bed.

The door opens with the tinkle of a brass bell older and rustier than Joel feels. A swaggering figure splits the glow from the store in two – a figure with a pack of Marlboros in one hand and an already half-empty bottle of water in the other.

Tommy holds them both out to Joel, who swipes the water with a scowl.

“Ain’t killed you yet, brother,” Tommy scoffs, stuffing the cigarettes into his back pocket. He swings a frayed-denim leg over the seat of his Harley.

Joel drains the bottle, panting as he crushes the plastic in one fist. “Damn near tryin’,” he mutters, tossing it in the trash. He runs his tongue across his bottom lip.

“Where are we?” Tommy asks. He glances over his shoulder, staring from the cracked roads to the telephone wires overhead. A Syclone pulls into the lot; a dehydrated squeal as it rolls to a halt.

“San Angelo,” Joel says. “Only a few more hours to go.” He settles on his own bike, pulling his leather jacket over his shoulders. “We passed a Super 8 coming into town, if you feel like restin’ up. Or – we leave now, be home around midnight.”

Tommy chuckles. “What’s the rush? We ain’t gotta be anywhere anytime soon.”

And Joel agrees – for the most part.

His mom is watching Sarah while they’re gone, and he reckons she’s hardly missing him. Too smart for her own good, Joel’s realizing: plotting and scheming her way into staying up past her bedtime, drinking Pepsi at dinner, watching Curtis and Viper – and swearing that her dad lets her do it all, too.

But, still. He misses his kid.

It’s the most they’ve ever been apart – time or distance. The longest he hasn’t had her climbing up his back or hanging off his arm. The least he��s been called Dad since he was eighteen years old.

He just…misses his kid.

He sighs, drumming his fingers on the body of the bike. “Tommy, I gotta get back home to Sarah.”

“Look,” Tommy says, and Joel knows that the argument is lost already, “By the time we got back, she’d be asleep anyways. Let’s leave in the morning – first thing, I swear – and we’ll be home in time for breakfast. Deal?”

They stare at one another, a stand-off in the parking lot. Both waiting for the other to break. The swallows gather on the roof of the store, basking in the weak wash of flickering fluorescents.

“Come on, brother,” Tommy pleads, “It’s one more night.” He lifts his helmet, punching it over his mop of shaggy hair, and kicks the bike to life.

Joel growls to himself, watching it drift over to the side of the road.

He considers heading to the Super 8 alone, grabbing a room only to shower and get some food, then hitting the road and leaving his little brother in the dust. Waiting for him to stumble through the door tomorrow morning – tired, groggy, probably hungover – while Joel, fresh as a daisy, drizzles syrup over Sarah’s pancakes and pours her orange juice.

He’s a pragmatic man. He’s a grown-up. Scares away the ghosts and ghouls and monsters of his daughter’s nightmares. Shushes her back to sleep in the crook of his arm, tiptoes as lightly as he can out of her room so as not to wake her.

Things like God, like the universe, things like horoscopes and laws of attraction…for the most part, Joel can do without them. Has done his whole life.

But then – the glow of indigo overhead, and the mysterious shadows lurking behind the buildings. The birdsong tittering in his ears, the twinkle of the sun in Tommy’s helmet – something distant in the dusty sphere.

Something, someone, winking at him from far away.

Something a little heavier than the breeze nudges at his spine, and Joel’s arms lift – fitting his own helmet over his head. He swings the heel of his boot into his kickstand and revs the bike, Harley roaring as it joins Tommy’s out on the boulevard.

Murphy’s is a small, green bar on the corner of an intersection. All peeled paint lettering and buzzing fluorescents – the y burnt out and pulsing.

Joel doesn’t think Tommy picked it for any reason other than the huge Lone Star mural on the side of the goddamn building, the way he tosses his thumb to it as they park up. A squint smirk on his face, muttering something like ‘s good to be home, big brother, as they hook helmets over handlebars.

Tommy leads Joel inside, their boots tacky on the wooden floor. Walls paneled by aged frames and sun-bleached photographs; air hanging thick with a smell like vinegar. The babble of slurred conversation is pierced by the sharp crack of pool balls breaking.

Metal-plate belt buckles snaked through strained jeans; low eyes which shift to size-up the two strangers. They all turn back to their fingerprinted glasses when Joel and Tommy settle into an empty booth.

It feels hotter in here than it is outside, stuffier. A thick humidity which clings to Joel’s bones, humming like the string lights draped from beams above his head.

Tommy reclines between the creaking leather cushion and the wall. He pokes at a yellowing poster of some Western, hums to himself, and then looks across the table.

Joel’s eyes loop once around the room before they meet his brother’s. “What?” he asks.

“First round is yours, old man.”

“Oh, is it, now?” He cocks an eyebrow. “Thought this was your idea?”

A weedy grin stretches across Tommy’s lips. He needs to fucking shave, Joel thinks. Whiskers poking from around his small mouth like pine needles. “’s my birthday trip,” he reasons.

And can Joel argue with that? Does he have the fucking energy? Will it get him out of here and back to Austin any quicker?

“Goddamn it,” he grumbles. He pushes himself to his feet, heels of his palms against the tacky wood.

He wanders over to the bar, tugging on the front of his tee to unstick it from his damp chest. Slots in beside an ivory cowboy hat with a pair of jeaned legs. The man fixes his bolo tie and watches Joel’s hand as he flags the bartender down.

And then he feels it.

You.

Then he feels you.

First, the weight of you – crashing some into his back. He shunts forward from the suddenness of it, knocking his ribs against the bar, and lifts a hand to brace himself on the ledge.

And then – heat, like an iron. Like every hair and freckle on your skin is branded into his the second you come into contact with him. A feeling like the roll of a wave against his spine, a hand hooked around his forearm when he begins to turn.

“Shit,” you hiss, steadying yourself on the curve of his shoulder. You glance down at your feet, clicking between your black boots. “I’m sorry, that was…that was my bad.”

“’s alright,” Joel says instantly. He holds his arm still until you let go and he sidesteps – though only a little. He watches, dumbstruck, as you rest your elbows on the bar and lean forward. His eyes linger on your back, trailing the crisscross straps wrapped tight over your spine.

You squint up at the menu pinned above shelves of crystal bottles. Your eyes move back and forth across the chalkboard, slowly descending until they’re meeting his in the speckled mirror opposite – a sweet smile growing on your lips.

It runs like whiskey through Joel’s veins: warm and dangerous.

And the way his head spins, the way the world blurs for a moment into one swipe of color around you; the way your cooing laugh echoes between his ears long after he’s heard it –

Joel’s already intoxicated.

He’s still staring when you pull back and motion to the bar. “You can go first, by the way,” you say, waving a hand. “I wasn’t cuttin’ in line. Just trying to read the drinks.”

“I’ll wait,” he replies, remembering how to be polite, how to be charming. Old cogs long out of use jerking to life inside him again. “Can’t read any of ‘em, either, anyways.”

It draws from you that same little laugh, a puff of air from your nostrils. You nod, biting your bottom lip.

He’s quickly forgetting why he’s stood in this room, why he’s in this city. He’d probably forget his own fucking name if you asked him right now what it was.

“’nother drink, darlin’?” a low voice interrupts, and you’re turning away.

Joel’s eyes follow you – a moth chasing something golden and radiant – as you face the wiggle of a snow-white mustache poking from beneath the brim of that ivory cowboy hat.

You shake your head, lifting two fingers with a bill slipped between them. “I’m good, thanks, George. Maybe next round.” You wave to the kid behind the bar – some name that Joel’s too fucking mindless to hear. Too distracted by the glint in your eye, the sparkle of your crescent moon earrings in the light.

If only he knew this feeling. If only he could put a name to it. As familiar as the sun and yet, brand new like dawn. His stomach swirls in a fleet of butterflies – as though he’s fifteen again, bumping elbows with his high school crush.

You nudge him, thumb pointing in the direction of the bartender.

Joel shakes his head. “Ladies first,” he says, heart skipping when you hold his stare.

“Nuh-uh,” you shake your head, “Told you I ain’t jumping in.”

He asks the guy for two beers, barely taking his eyes off you. “Alright,” he leans in, lowering his voice, “Then let me buy you a drink. Make up for gettin’ in your way just then.”

You prop your chin on your knuckles, grinning as you push your twenty around the wooden bar top, dodging pooled rings of alcohol like it’s an arcade game. “I don’t do that,” you say, eyes tracing the slick trail left by the bill.

“Do what?”

“Accept drinks from strange men in bars.”

His tongue presses against the back of his teeth, the taste of humor honey-sweet. “Yeah? ‘n how long have you known…” he nods to the – what is he, sixty? Sixty-five? – year-old on your right, “…George?”

Your gaze lifts, eyes wide. Apparently as impressed by Joel’s confidence as he is himself. “We’re actually in a very serious relationship. Marriage proposal imminent.”

“Damn,” he mutters as the bartender reappears with two Coors, “And here I thought I had half a chance.”

You hum to yourself, studying him. Looking from his jaw across the span of his shoulders, his wide-knuckled hands and then back to his lips. Curious and wary, judging the strange animal stood before you.

And he knows he’s weathered from the weeks on the road, and all the years before that. Dirt under his nails and the light sheen of sun on his forehead. The flecks of gray through his thick, brown beard.

You take a deep breath, eyes twinkling, and tell him, “I’m here with my friend.”

“Ain’t that lucky?” Joel glances at Tommy. “I’m here with my brother.”

You look across to the dirty blond, sat tilting a glass candle in his hand. “He single?”

Joel nods. “Is she?”

You nod.

“Alright. You wanna come sit with us?”

Your smirk answers his question. You take the beers, rings clinking off the glass. “Rum,” you call over your shoulder, wandering off, “I drink rum.”

Joel’s gaze lowers to the sway of your hips. “Rum it is,” he says, turning back to the bar.

“So…a cross-country bike trip, and you wound up in San Angelo?”

You’re on your fourth drink, the first one Joel hasn’t paid for – and he only allowed it because it’s a Diet Coke (and maybe you got to the bar first, held his wrists with one hand so he couldn’t stop you from slapping your own money down).

“Yep,” Joel replies, pinching the lime from his drink and dropping it onto a napkin. “Just passin’ through. Shower, sleep, then head on home.”

“Where’s that, then? Home?”

“Austin.”

“Austin,” you pout, “Nice.”

Joel smirks, licking citrus from his fingertips. “Is it?”

“I’ve never been to Austin,” Brooke chirps, fiddling with the umbrella in her piña colada. She twirls the paper canopy and glances up to Tommy.

He snaps out of his slack-jawed gaze when he realizes what she’s implying. “Oh – yeah, well…” his head wobbles as he stutters, “…you two ever come down that way, we’d be happy to, uh…show ya ‘round, huh, Joel?”

Joel doesn’t reply, staring back at his brother with the same amused expression you are.

You’ve been an inch apart all evening – doused in the dive bar darkness, the shrouded conversations and muffled TV static. The tip of your nose and curve of your shoulders lit only by the luminous signs dotting the walls.

Tommy and Brooke are already deep in conversation again about the best car Tommy ever owned. Joel watches as your eyes flit between the pair, entertained by the way they trip over each other’s sentences. Your cheeks lift when Brooke lays a hand over Tommy’s, and he squeezes her fingers back.

Where did you come from? Joel’s thinking. He takes a swig of his whiskey, feeling your eyes on him. As he lowers his glass, you lift yours. When he turns in his seat towards you, you’re already facing him, back against the wainscotting. He smiles, and so do you.

Every movement feels choreographed, some merry dance only you two know. You’re in your own little world.

Where did you come from, again, and where have you been my entire fucking life?

“So, what about you?” Joel asks instead, swallowing – all warm-bellied and brave. “You grow up here?”

You shake your head, taking another sip. “Nope. Just liked it enough to hang up my coat for a few months. I grew up in Phoenix.”

“You travel a lot?”

“I’ve been around. This is the longest I’ve stayed in one place since I was a kid.”

He thinks of home: of Austin and its silver-snake river, burnt-orange jerseys and the pleated bunting lining Sixth Street. He thinks of late nights on lawn chairs, nursing a beer and shooting the shit with his brother. Keeping their voices lower than the buzz of the cicadas, looking more at the dusky sky than at each other.

“You don’t ever get tired of it?” Joel asks. “Of moving around so much?”

You scoff, breath clouding the inside of your glass. “Three weeks on a motorcycle starting to get to you, huh?”

He breathes a laugh, loose again. The cicadas fade from his ears.

Your head tilts in a shrug. “I don’t know. I guess the universe keeps on surprising me.”

Joel doesn’t do this. At least, he hasn’t done this since he was a teenager – crate of beer under his arm and a chest full of courage. He’s long forgotten the feeling of heat blooming in his cheeks, the twitch of his heart anytime you look at him.

But fuck, if there isn’t something about you. Something in the way you move, the way you look at him. Something in the way you play with your straw, knocking ice cubes around and chewing on the plastic once you’ve drained the glass.

Something – though it’s a little too early and Joel’s a little too tipsy to tell just what. He tries to remember that he’s pragmatic. A grown-up. He chases away the monsters in his daughter’s –

“Oh, shit,” Joel says suddenly, scrambling to pull his cell from his pocket. It’s nine thirty. He was supposed to – “I forgot…”

A miserable tone from his Motorola cuts him short. The screen flashes an empty battery before fading to black. He jams a thumb into the keypad a couple more times, cursing at the winking symbol.

“Someone you gotta call?” you ask.

He meets your eye and winces. “Yeah, I’m…I said I’d call an hour ago.”

“You wanna use mine?” You twist around, fishing in your purse for your own. “We can go outside.”

“No, no, it’s…it’s alright, I’m sure she won’t mind, she –”

You shake your head. “Shut up. Come on, let’s go. I could use some fresh air, anyways. Be back in a minute,” you tell Brooke – who nods and turns straight back to Tommy.

Joel extends his hand to help you out of the booth, then follows you to the door. The cool air tugs every nerve in his body to attention, pin-sharp when he steps out of that lazy heat. Under the emerald glow of the Murphy’s sign, he settles his glass on a window ledge. “Next round’s on me, alright?”

You roll your eyes, pushing the phone against his chest. “Just call, Joel.”

One last apologetic glance, and then he’s dialing. He makes to wander along the curb, the tone already pulsing in his ear, when he notices –

“You ain’t brought a jacket?”

You’re sitting on the ledge, clutching your elbows. Swatting midges from the light you’re bathed in, charms on your bracelets jingling. “Hm?”

He tuts. “A jacket. Here.” He shrugs his own off, sitting it around your frame. It’s warm from the bar and from Joel’s body heat, and you sink into it – letting the dark leather drown you as you rummage through your purse again.

“Nice,” Joel’s eyes narrow, “Fresh air.”

You hum into your hands, flicking your lighter. The cigarette trembles when you murmur, “We all got our skeletons, I guess.”

He turns on his heel when a familiar voice picks up.

“Hey, hey, M–Yeah, sorry it’s late…Yeah, we got held up. My phone died, so I’m using…Is she still–? Can I–? Oh, Sarah. Hi, baby.”

His little girl begins chattering down the line immediately, telling Joel everything she’s been up to since they last spoke this morning.

“…and then, Emily thought I was one of the Armadillos – I don’t even know how, ‘cause they play in red, remember Dad? – but she did, and she slide tackled me so bad that Coach Thomson had to sub in Akari for me so I could ice my ankle. Grandma was kinda mad about it, but she took me to Burger King after to cheer me up, and…”

Joel wanders back and forth, smiling to himself and scuffing the heel of his boot along the concrete – barely able to squeeze more than two words between her chirping. It’s all, Yeah, baby? and Wow, sweetheart; all uhuhs and mhms until she finally quietens, excitement plateauing again.

“Alright, well. You know what time it is, right?”

“Yeah,” Sarah groans. She knows it all too well.

Bedtime.

“…But you didn’t call when you said you would, Daddy, and it’s Saturday, it’s –”

“I know, baby, I know. I’m sorry. Just…somethin’ came up. But I’ll see you tomorrow, right? We’ll be back before you know it.”

“Where’s Uncle Tommy? Can I talk to him?”

Joel turns to face the bar. “He, uh…I’m not with him right now, sweetheart. I’ll tell him you asked after him, though.”

Sarah concedes, and then begins asking questions Joel knows she’s only asking to stay on the line a little longer – to stay awake a little later. But still, he answers each one – humoring her and, at the same time, letting himself listen to her voice just a little more before he has to let her go.

He thinks of scooping her up in the morning; thinks of being slumped on the couch after dinner with her head on his stomach – fast asleep with whatever movie she chose droning on in the background.

Despite the thousands of miles and close to two weeks between them – she makes him feel closer to home. She always does.

When Sarah asks where he is, he glances your way. Clocks your flat expression, the half-burnt cigarette hanging from your fingers.

You flick ash to the ground. Eyes unreadable beneath low brows, a tiny crease between them that Joel’s only just seeing for the first time.

“Uh…” he clears his throat, “…just a little – a little north of you, baby. Home first thing, I promise.”

He tells her he loves her and she says it back, and he tells her to sleep well and she says that back, too. And then he’s hanging up – Alright, see you soon, bye, Sarah, bye-bye, byebyebye – and pressing his thumb into the red button.

He wanders back over to you – ears flat like a guilty dog, though he isn’t quite sure why. He mumbles a quiet thanks as he passes the phone back, then stuffs his hands in his pockets.

You lean back, ankles crossed, studying him. Swirling what’s left of the cigarette in your fingers – the smoke lifting like a winding snake to the dark sky. “So,” you pout, “What are you doing flirting with me, if you got a wife and kid back home?”

His jaw ticks, a hand coming up to scratch his beard. “I don’t have a wife,” he says.

You stare blankly, filter back against your lips. “Okay, then – a girlfriend. Does she know you’re out tonight with us?”

He shakes his head. “No wife, no girlfriend. I don’t have an anything.”

“But you have a kid.”

Joel nods once, tongue in his cheek. “Uhuh.”

And then the penny seems to drop. A small oh; your jaw slack and eyes wide. The cigarette smolders between your fingers. “Fuck,” you whisper, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“No, hey,” Joel steps closer, “You didn’t know. It’s alright.”

He straightens the jacket on your shoulders. When you finally look at each other again, you snort.

“Sorry,” you repeat, shaking your head. “Is she okay? Your daughter – is she…?”

“Sarah,” Joel says. “She’s…she’s fine. Thanks.”

You look down, stubbing your cigarette against the brick. Voice quiet, you ask, “Her mom’s not around anymore?”

Relief settles in his chest: you’re softening to him again.

Joel slots onto the ledge at your side. Shoulder to shoulder. He reaches behind and lifts his drink. “Not since she was a year old.”

Your mouth pulls in a wince. “Jesus. That’s rough.”

He doesn’t reply. He doesn’t have to – you’re not asking him to explain – and he doesn’t want to, either.

You’re not stupid – you’ve seen enough of the world to hear what he’s really saying. The darkest, dustiest corners of it – all the places no one ever wants to look.

You don’t seem disturbed, barely even moved by the reality that…well, shit happens. People leave, families break; a two-car driveway is suddenly taken up by just a pick-up truck and a little pink bike with tassels.

He figures you get it. You don’t need to know how can that be? – you just…know that it can.

“So, uh…” you look up at him again, “…my apartment is, like, five minutes away if you wanna…you know. You can charge your phone, can shower – if it’s bugging you that much.”

Joel’s eyebrows lift. “Oh, really?”

You simper, eyes thin. “Really.”

“Charge my phone ‘n shower?” He stands, palm flat against the wall above your head, and leans in. His face is inches from yours.

You look up, mirroring his expression. “Yes,” your voice curls in a half-truth, “What’s the big deal?”

“What a goddamn line,” Joel says, smirking. “How long you been sittin’ on that one for?”

His blood thrums faster, harder, louder in his veins when you stand up, hands on your hips.

“It’s not a line, I’m serious –”

“I didn’t take you as the type, baby, I really didn’t – but if that’s how you wanna play this, then –”

He feels you before he sees you moving, like he’s stood at that bar all over again. Your hands on his jaw, your chest pressed to his. Your lips – soft as satin, with a tinge of sweet rum and smoke – against his.

Joel barely misses a beat. He closes his eyes and lifts a hand to the back of your head, kissing you back. It’s dizzying, the taste and feel of you so close; the wet of your tongue on his. The little scratches of your nails in his beard, the moans caught in your throat.

Dizzying – and fucking perfect.

You break apart and lean in to each other, catching your breath. Joel’s hands slip beneath the heavy leather of his jacket onto your waist.

“Unless…” you whisper, pulling away from him, “…you don’t want to. In which case, I’ll just…” You twirl back towards the door, batting your eyelashes.

Joel smiles. He catches your wrist and reels you back into his body. “I want to,” he breathes, kissing you again. “I want to.”

“Let’s go.”

You make it to your apartment door, fumbling with your keys – and Joel’s hands are glued to your waist.

You miss the lock over and over as he kisses your neck, grazing the skin with his teeth. Anything to satiate the hunger quickly taking over, the tightening in his jeans.

He pulls you against his hips – rough denim grinding into the curve of your ass. He can smell your flowery perfume, a strange melding of peony and menthol sharp in his nostrils.

It’s the hungriest he’s ever felt, he thinks – a starved animal pinning his prey to her flecked apartment door. He pauses, bottom lip damp against your neck; breathing a liquor-laced laugh over your skin.

You jam the key into the lock. The door finally shunts open and you spill inside, dragging Joel with you.

Your place is dark. Angled strips of streetlight thrown high up the bare walls and across the ceiling, splintered by tilted shades. The spill of a blanket draped over an empty couch; a pair of sneakers left on the rug. Joel’s knees brush by a houseplant guarding the door – heavy leaves which pfft when they sway out of his way.

It’s half-decorated. Temporary. Caught somewhere between home and away. Little fragments pieced together into something the shape of home: a mosaic vase that scatters light across the surface of the coffee table; a beaded curtain pinned around the closet doorway.

Like you’re a little magpie, collecting trinkets of silver and gold until your nest feels like yours. Bags dropped long enough to keep a Monstera plant alive, not to put nails in the wall for the frames propped against the skirting board.

You shrug Joel’s jacket off, dropping it over the back of the couch. When you spin back around to him, he lifts your chin with two fingers and presses his lips to yours. You lead him down the hallway, tumbling into your room.

He follows you over to your bed, collapsing onto a tousled mess of sheets with his hips between yours. The hem of your dress rides up your thighs, bunching around your hips and revealing a flash of pink lace underneath.

The world around him seems to sober up for a second, sharpens into focus. It begins to seep in: the realization that he has you – some girl he met no more than two hours ago in a bar – pinned to your mattress. A slick gathering in your underwear and a weight building in his.

Right now, he should be sinking into squealing bedsprings in a Super 8. Bathing in the flicker of a television set twenty years too old. He should be showered and rested – ready to head home at sunrise, if not sooner.

But then something led him to you, and – well.

There’s no fucking helping him now, is there?

Joel’s fingers hook around your panties. He pulls down, leaving a trail of kisses along your bare leg, until that same pink lace is dripping from your ankle.

His eyes flash up to yours, love-drunk and sparkling. He pushes your knees apart, watching your velvet folds open for him, and – oh, he thinks, staring at the glistening arousal smeared around your cunt. Such a slick little mess for him already.

“Goddamn, darlin’,” he licks his lips, “She’s so pretty.”

You hum, hands lowering. Your fingers separate, spreading your pussy for him. Your middle finger swirls around your clit, dips along your seam. And the n, silky and shining, you lift your hand again and slip your fingers into your mouth.

“Tastes even better than she looks,” you murmur, dappling your fingertip along your bottom lip.

Joel growls. He pushes down on your thighs, ignoring your little yelp, and drags the tip of his tongue through your slit.

“Oh, shit,” you gasp, back arching. Your fingers knot in his hair, twisting and tightening. “Shitshitshit.”

“Mhm,” he hums against you, tongue pushing inside.

Fuck, you’re just so perfect: so soft and warm and fucking dripping for him. He laps at your sweet center, wet already spreading all over his mouth and beard.

A dampness blooms in his boxers. He’s throbbing, fucking aching the longer he goes untouched. He grinds against the mattress, denim rough against his solid erection.

He lifts his chin, panting – satisfied by the way you squirm under the weight of him. “You like that, huh?” he asks, a sodden kiss to your mound. “Fuckin’ love it.”

He spits a thick bead of saliva, watching it dribble down your folds to your ass. His tongue swipes it back up, circling your clit, all slippery and swollen.

“Fuck, Joel,” you moan, tugging on his hair. Your legs spasm, hips lifting.

He loves the sound of his name when you say it. Broken in two, a lilt to it as it rolls from your tongue and down his spine. Like it’s yours as much as it is his, now.

He sucks hard on your clit, his tongue flicking. And he can tell you’re close; can feel your hips starting to lose rhythm, see your back desperately arching higher and higher.

Joel groans, pushing up to hover over you. He cups between your legs, dabbing two thick fingers at your entrance, and pushes in.

Your pussy draws him in knuckle-deep. Your chest lifts, the loose neckline of your dress exposing more and more. You grab your breast, pinching your nipple – a roll of pebbled flesh between your fingertips.

He lowers his lips to your ear – watching as you toy with yourself. “Come on, baby,” he grits his teeth, “Give me one. Let me feel this pretty cunt.”

Your head rolls back into the pillow; a high sob as your orgasm crests. Clamping tight around him; a warm flood down his fingers.

Joel kisses you as you come. You look so pretty, he thinks, with ecstasy behind your eyes and his fingers between your legs.

Christ, he wants to be inside you so badly. Wants to feel your cunt do all this around his cock instead.

The blood rushes between his hips.

His fingers slip in and out, bringing you back around. Joel’s lips are on your neck, murmuring, “Good girl, that’s my girl,” as you resurface.

Your eyes open again – glossy, glazed with the aftershock of your high. “Fuck,” you breathe, playing with the hem of his shirt.

He pulls his fingers out and sucks them clean. Whips the tee over his head in one motion; another kiss tucked under your chin as you peel your dress from your body. He tosses it to the floor.

Still dazed, your body still trembling, you ask, “Do you have a condom?” All dreamy and distant, your hands trailing along his belt.

Joel pauses. Tilts his head, frowning. “I’m on a road trip with my brother, baby – the hell would I bring condoms for?”

You roll your eyes, sighing. It’s the cutest thing Joel thinks he’s ever seen. You thread the belt through the loops of his jeans. “In case you meet a really cool girl at a bar and wanna take her home, maybe?”

He lifts his eyebrows, impressed. He slips his salty tongue over yours again.

You moan at the taste. “It’s just I’m…I’m all out.”

His belt drops to the floor; buckle clinking against hardwood.

“Well, shit,” Joel whispers.

It’s not exactly a scenario he predicted, setting off from Austin. Meeting you wasn’t on the bucket list for the trip. It’s another three, four, probably five things to add to the list of shit he doesn’t do, shouldn’t do, wouldn’t fucking do if it hadn’t been for you.

No, Joel thinks, groaning as you palm the solid shape of him – he didn’t bring a goddamn condom. Jesus, the most he has in his pockets right now is fifteen bucks and a stick of gum.

You unzip his pants, shrugging the denim loose. “We can just do it…without,” you offer.

Joel stares down at you. “You sure?”

You nod, biting your lip. “Just pull out, right?”

“Just pull out…” he echoes. Your hands are cold on his heated skin, but he’s not about to fucking stop you.

You tug his underwear down with his jeans, following the darkening hair from his navel down. Another quiet pull out passes your lips – your voice dissolving when you spot the thick base of his dick.

Joel’s shaft springs free, heavy against the inside of his thigh.

“Holy shit.” You push yourself up on your elbows, eyes flooding black.

His tongue runs along the bottom of his teeth. He thrusts forward into your hand, a glassy drop of precome dribbling from his slit.

Your thumb swipes across his flushed tip, fingers wrapping around his width. You roll his balls in your other palm, massaging and squeezing just the right amount.

“Easy, easy,” Joel whispers. Too much, too soon. He can’t come yet, not until he feels your fluttering cunt around his cock.

Instead, you reach up – snaking an arm around his neck. You pull him back down, his naked body flush against yours, and hike a knee over his hip.

He grinds into you, his cock nudging between your legs. They fall apart for him – pliant and keen, like petals unfolding. He covers himself in your slick, his tip catching below your clit.

“Pl-ease,” you whine, scratching at his shoulders.

Joel nips at your damp neck. “Please, what?” he taunts.

Your breath is hot against his cheek – a stifling request which curls up in the shell of his ear. “F-fuck me.”

And his hips roll into yours.

“Jesus f…” your face buries into his chest, “…you’re…you’re so fucking big, Joel, I can’t –”

He nudges between your walls, groaning into your skin. You’re even tighter around his cock, even cozier. “I know,” he pants, “I know. Take it, baby, know you can take it.”

You stretch around him, opening up the deeper he pushes. “Fuckfuckfuck,” you pant, the thick hair at his base finally brushing against your clit. “Fuck, Joel.”

“Look at me,” he taps your jaw, “Hey. Look at me. Breathe.”

You exhale, hot and shaky across his lips.

“Good, that’s good.” Joel nods. He holds you by the waist, lets you adjust to his size.

He pulls back, your cunt clamping around him. Halfway out, and then in again. Feeling you open up, inch by inch, until he builds a steady rhythm.

“Jesus, baby, she’s so…” he moans, “…she’s so goddamn tight.”

You drape an arm over his shoulders, a hissing pain where your nails dig into his skin. Yelping each time he bottoms out, your leaking cunt wrapped snug around him. “So – goddamn – big,” you whine, a ruined smile on your lips.

He slams his body into yours again, watching the way your tits bounce. Nipples hard, skin tacky and shining with sweat. Your pussy pinches, and he starts to unravel.

Fuck the road trip, Joel thinks, fuck all of it. This is where he should be: in the middle of your bed, burrowed deep between your legs. This is the only place he wants to fucking be, right now.

So he fucks you harder; the headboard hammering against the wall. A fistful of the pillow, his knuckles whitening. He guides his cock when he slips out – a filthy sound as your clutch sucks him back in.

“Fuck,” he growls, gripping your hips so hard he worries he might bruise you. His thrusts become sloppy – quick and desperate.

“So close,” you gasp. You’re squeezing him so tight that he sees stars. “I’m gonna – I’m…”

Perfect, Joel thinks, watching you bloom. You’re so fucking perfect.

He coaxes you through it. Slows enough to feel you come around his cock, your warmth as it gushes all over him. “That’s it, baby, I got you. Shit, you’re gonna make me come.”

He pulls out just in time to coat your stomach; a throaty groan as he comes. He pumps his shaft, covering from your sternum to the plush of your tummy. It dribbles down your waist, spurts between your breasts.

He collapses over you, pressing his forehead to yours. His dick, soaked and softening, smears the ejaculate across your skin.

You giggle, leaving sticky kisses along his beard.

“You okay?” he asks, breathless.

You nod, and his tongue dabs at the inside of your lips. You taste like sex and sweat – sweet and salt.

Joel shifts to the edge of the bed. He feels you follow, your lips featherlight on the curve of his shoulder.

You make to stand – going to clean yourself up, he reckons, your tummy dripping with his semen – and he locks a hand around your bare thigh.

“Stay,” he says, voice low and rough – sex still smoldering. “Let me get you a towel.”

You smile, resting your chin on his shoulder. Your fingers link around the other side of his waist. “I’ll get it. Just relax.”

And for a minute or two, you stay like that. Hooked onto one another, tired eyes closing over, breathing in rhythm. Your cheek on his shoulder, your knee brushing against his tummy.

It’s simple; quiet and still. Joel feels like half a person – the other half tracing her chipped nails along his bare thigh. Eyelashes fluttering, teeth holding back a grin that she thinks might give her away.

Eventually, you move. Shimmy yourself down the mattress, swipe a crinkled tee from the ottoman – and slink off to the bathroom.

Joel lies back against the headboard, body sticky hot. He watches the shadow of your figure stretch across the open door. His eyes drift upwards to the looping ceiling fan – only half as dizzying as the sound of your humming in the next room.

And just when he starts to think he might be fucking missing you, you reappear in the doorway. Leant against the frame, some worn band tee hanging from your shoulders. Arms crossed; smiling back at him.

A rush of words floods to the tip of his tongue. You look beautiful. Your makeup’s smudged, chains of your necklace twisted; your shirt is frayed and splotched with faded stains – and you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

He holds his arms out and you prance over.

You crawl over his figure, kissing your way up to his lips, and then turn in his lap. Cradled against his broad chest, your head nuzzling into the dark threads of hair between his pecs. You clasp one of his hands in two of yours.

“Offer’s still there for a shower, if you want it,” you whisper, kissing the pads of his fingers.

Joel tilts his head, mumbling against your temple, “Will you be in there with me?”

You answer something shaped like a tease, just as sharp with wit – but he’s too busy watching your nails trace his open palm. Too distracted by the sweet scent of your skin: a fresh burst of fruit, singed with the edge of tobacco.

“What do you do for work?” you ask.

He makes some sort of sleepy sound – a grunt, a hm? into your skull. “Oh, uh – I’m a contractor,” he says.

Your chin lifts. “That why your palms are all…?” Your thumb strokes light as lace against his worn skin.

“Probably,” Joel admits. He draws shapes on your thigh with his free hand.

“Do you sand the wood with your bare hands, or somethin’?”

Joel scoffs. “Alright, alright. You liked my hands plenty, twenty minutes ago.”

Your cheeks lift, a low hum caught in your throat. You angle your head to let his lips trail along your shoulder, pressing into the hinge of your jaw. A dark nail following the landscape of Joel’s skin – each score and divot, the callused pads at the bottom of each finger.

“You have sorta…earth hands, I think.”

It sits in the air for a few seconds before Joel turns to you. “What?”

“Earth hands. Or, well – I guess they could be water, if you look at ‘em this way.” You open up his hand, fingers stretched. “I don’t really know. I’m still learning.”

He looks down at you. Feels the now-steady pulse of your heart on his sternum. “Learnin’…hands?”

You snort. “Palm reading, Joel.”

His brows draw tight. He licks the inside of his whiskey-stained cheek. “You’re into all that hippie sh…stuff?”

You knock your knuckles against his chest, still staring at his hands. The hills and their valleys, the ravine-like lines; the worn skin and hatch marks.

“Let’s see…Your heart line,” you whisper – more to yourself than Joel, but he’s listening all the same. “It’s pretty deep, which means the relationships you’ve had have been…important. But it’s kinda…it tails off right here, see? It’s broken. So…I guess they didn’t end too good.”

Joel raises an eyebrow – playful, encouraging your timid smile. Keep figuring me out, he thinks, stoking the curious flame behind your eyes. “Alright,” he says, “Now tell me something you didn’t already know about me.”

You gawk, holding his wrist up. “You don’t see that? The way it breaks up? I’m not bullshitting you, Joel, it’s –”

“Naw, I see it,” he nods, squinting a little at his palm, “Just – tell me more. What’s all these other lines mean?”

“Well,” you adjust between his hips, “you got your life line right here. Short, which means –”

“Don’t tell me that part.”

“No,” you roll your eyes, “It just means you’re independent. You never needed much from anyone. And it runs past this mount – these are called mounts – right here. Venus: all to do with love and sexuality.”

Joel holds your open palm next to his, comparing them. He takes less than a second’s look, lines his lips to your ear and says, “Seem like a pretty good match to me.”

You wriggle when he tickles your ribcage, trying to twist out of his grasp. You’re laughing again – the same laugh he’s been hearing all damn night. The same giggle that’s had his stomach somersaulting since he first heard it.

The room seems to light with it, this glow he feels from you – as if you’re the sun. Spent and still half-drunk; lazing with a stranger in the middle of her bed. Tracing the lines and scars on his palm, telling him how logical and grounded he’s supposed to be.

As if the world orbits around you – everything you touch turning to molten gold. And for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, Joel looks at you and wonders: Where the hell did you come from?

You hold your hand against his, folding your fingers perfectly together. The evidence of your night flaking from Joel’s knuckles; sweat still simmering on the nape of his neck.

He hasn’t done this for years. Hasn’t felt this gentle aftermath. It’s usually a rush, a hastened zip and clink of his pants. An awkward dance, plucking clothes from the bedroom floor and pacing back to his truck.

It’s never like this. Talking and laughing, holding and kissing. Questions about his parents and yours; his biggest dream as a kid, or the time you broke your arm falling out of a tree.

He tells you stories about growing up with Tommy; tells you Sarah’s favorite flavor of cake. He tells you about the time they tried to make it for a school bake sale, forgot to turn the oven off, and almost burned the damn kitchen down.

You snicker and tell him that never would’ve happened if you were there.

Yeah, well, Joel smiles, I wish you were.

He notices you’re drifting off, despite your slurred protests and your weak grip on his wrist. He pulls you under the covers, curving his body around yours, praying that the quickening drum of his heartbeat won’t wake you.

His nose nuzzles into the curve of your skull, his hands link in front of your tummy. And he wonders whether his body was made with yours in mind.

He glances out at the sky – light starting to bleed from the horizon – and wills the turn of the sun to slow. Only a little; just let him stay here a little while longer.

Just a little while.

Dawn forces her way in eventually – more unwelcome than ever before.

There’s a throb between his temples which swells to life when the light floods past his pupils. “Jesus Christ,” he grumbles, face turning back into the pillow. He gives you a gentle squeeze and then pushes up from the mattress.

You roll to the middle of the bed, still sound asleep. The sun spills golden all over the valleys and crests of your body. The bedsheets carve pathways up to your hips, dipping at your waist.

Last night, there was something so mystical about you – so otherworldly. Joel felt himself drawn towards you like a compass needle shooting north, the second he felt your weight crash against his spine.

A figure behind a cloud of smoke, like the mountaintops disappearing into a thick mist. And now, blood drained of alcohol, you’re just you.

Your shirt is twisted around your shoulders. Your lips puffy, mumbling to yourself in your doze. Makeup smudged like chalk under your eyes, and still – just as beautiful. Just as radiant as you were ten hours ago.

Joel rubs his eyes, sitting on the edge of the bed. He blinks down at his bare feet, the morning sharpening into focus. As he lifts his phone from the nightstand, the cable drops – hitting the wooden floor with a snap.

He pauses, shoulders hunched. Hears you stir over his shoulder, and turns around.

The earth of your body shifts beneath cotton hills, clouds of sleep clearing from behind your eyes. “Hey,” you whisper, voice pretty and broken.

A little bird in the palm of his hand – that magpie curled up in her nest of gems and trinkets.

“Hey.” He leans down and kisses your cheek. “Sorry, darlin’, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

You wrap your arms around his wrist, tugging. “Are…are you…leaving?”

Joel feels a pang in his chest, and he doesn’t know why. He takes a deep breath. Your scent fills his lungs and steadies his heart. “I…” he sniffs, “…I gotta go home, baby.”

You give a slow and heavy nod. “S-Sarah…”

He strokes your head with his thumb. “Yeah. Shh, go back to sleep. It’s still early.”

He glances at his phone – it’s just after six. He knows Tommy will be waiting for him, parked outside the Super 8 and wondering where the hell Joel is. He knows Sarah will be, too – sat by the living room window, listening for the rumble of their bikes.

And still, he thinks – How do I fucking leave you? Leave this?

He shouldn’t even be entertaining the thought. He has a kid waiting for him back home; soccer practice, packed lunches, homework and bedtime stories. He has work to do, bills to pay, a roof to keep over their heads. It’s all waiting in Austin, two hundred miles away.

As though you can see the question flipping in his mind, you pull him closer. A weak finger in the palm of his hand, drawing circles. Your bleary gaze meets his, and you whisper, “In the next life.”

Joel smiles. Twelve hours ago, he’d have laughed at the idea of it. Now, he’s not so sure. He kisses your knuckles, muttering, “Promise.”

Another wave of sleep washes over you, and you’re gone again.

Joel pushes himself from the bed, reaching for his clothes. His back twinges as he stretches, pulling his T-shirt over his shoulders. He steps into his jeans; pinches his belt between two fingers and lifts it from the floor.

He leans over and tilts your shades the opposite way, dulling your bedroom. He unplugs the charger, neatly winds the cord, and sits it on your nightstand. He fixes his side of the sheets: folds them over the mattress, tucks them in at your back.

With a deep breath, he makes for the door.

His jaw turns, eyes still low. Your dress is in a heap at the foot of the bed; a tube of lip gloss lying next to it. He looks up, following the landscape of sheets – the slope from your ankle to your hip. Your hunched shoulders, your cheek smushed into the pillow.

If he looks too long, he’ll never leave.

The image burns golden into his eyes. He hopes for half a heartbeat that you’ll wake again and pull him back into bed. Kiss him all over, whisper something sharp and sweet in his ear. Touch him and graze him and wrap yourself around him – anchoring him right here and now.

But you don’t.

And Joel slips out of the room.

Jackson stirs to life over his shoulder.

A white lump in the snow-covered valley, the settlement seems so far away now. Tommy sets off up ahead, leading the way to the outpost. The blizzard is picking up – it almost swallows the silhouette of him whole.

Joel had tried to warn him: the weather would be too bad to see five feet in front of them, never mind any infected. But Tommy argued with the same determination that dragged the pair of them into that dive bar thirty years ago, and Joel didn’t have half the energy nor the will to argue back.

He’s thinking about you. He always is.

Your searing gaze over the rim of your glass; the weight of you against his chest. The tickling of your nail on his palm, severing each line and changing him forever. You and your palm lines.

You were just learning to read them. Joel didn’t know a thing about any of it, and he told you so. You took his hand in yours and said, Here. Let me see.

He runs a thumb down his fate line, swaying in time with his horse. And he shakes his head with a little smile – he still remembers which one is fate and which is heart.

He still remembers all of it. He has earth hands. All salt and soil and solid as stone. His earth hands have gotten him this far, right? Twenty-five years and he’s still here. Gray and grown; stiff joints and sewn-up scars.

His head line has channeled more strangers’ blood than Joel can count. Mounts that’ve stopped breath in the throat of any man who crossed him. He doesn’t think you’d recognize his hands anymore, if your fingertips traced over them again. Broken and bruised and bloody.

And he doesn’t think he’d want you to – doesn’t want you to meet the shadow of the man you knew back then. He’d prefer you remember that same brown-eyed, soft-touched stranger with enough charm and naivety to survive anything. No need for bone-breaking fists or bloodstained hands.

Where are you, he wonders?

The answer knots deep in his stomach: the same old rope twisting into the same old shape. A fist of anger, of guilt. Some terrible cocktail of both, spilling poison through his veins.

He’s terrified to wonder what might’ve happened if he had ever made it back there. What he might’ve found in your apartment – what he might not.

Where would you have gone, that day? Would you have fled, or would you have stayed?

You were smart, he knows that much. He saw the cogs of your mind turning right in front of him, standing opposite each other in that bar. Barely thirty seconds in and he could’ve sworn you had him all figured out.

But – oh, Jesus, you were kind. Open and willing to help a stranger with a dead phone and a tired smile. Would that kindness still glow as bright against the flicker of a world on fire?

A lone hawk swoops down before him, shooting straight between the pines. Joel slips his glove back over his freezing hand.

He thinks about you every day. Every fucking day, and it never eases. Never loosens. It keeps him up some nights – the truth he’s too afraid to look square in the face.

You live now in the back of his mind like a little ghost. His little ghost – still floating around that dusty city; the warm light of life and innocence still bright in your eyes.

Tommy glances over his shoulder. He gestures ahead as if to say, Would you take a look at this goddamn storm?

And Yeah, Joel thinks, I’m lookin’, brother.

All he wants is to go home. Jackson, Austin, the bedroom of your apartment in San Angelo. Just let me go back.

He blinks, and the snow melts to cracked asphalt under a lilac sunset. Tommy’s holding handlebars instead of reins. The horses’ hot puffs of breath darken to clouds of smoke, choking from the exhaust pipes of the Harleys.

You’re somewhere on the other side of town, waiting for him in the faint glow of a jukebox. Sipping what’s left of your rum and Coke, fishing a twenty from your purse for the next round.

Just let me go back home.

He tugs on his horse’s reins and pulls off after his brother.

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #joel miller smut #joel miller one shot #san angelo

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corvidae-00 · 14 days

Note

Please some jealous (kind of toxic ) joost but with a happy ending 🙏🙏🙏🙏

A/N: **fiddles fingers maliciously** this- I love this- He would so be sorta toxic and totally let his ego get ahead of him- this is gonna be fun to write! I hope you like it!!!!- GN!Reader x Joost :> CW: Toxic mannerisms, Marko is being used as the reason Joost gets worked up- (I love Marko I swear-), swearing, Angry Joost, tinny witty bitty bit of angst, Joost overthinking, smoking. (Let me know if I missed anything!! Word count: 1,747

The after party for eurovisions semi final was packed with the singers and the energy in the room was for sure through the roof. Joost your good friend and his group invited you to come with, Joost wanting to share this moment with you more than anything- the excitement and hype of everyone putting their hearts out there and competing only to come together to talk about how much happened, having you there would make it even better, if that would be even possible.

You agreed to come along, not that you had much choice, the Dutchman having begged and nagged and spammed you until you agreed. Not that you didn't want to come! But you knew you would stand out like a sore thumb, probably hang out by a corner waiting for the delicious food to be available or not so crowded. Looking over your outfit and the time you smile pleased with how you look and wonder slightly if Joost would too. You have had the biggest crush on him since a few months after you got to know him, the feelings having appeared and clung onto you with every ounce of power possible, and honestly? You were fine with that. Smoothing out your clothes you look at the time and decided if you want to make it in time you absolutely had to leave.

Grabbing your bag you left your hotel you had booked for the event and quickly drove over to the Venue like Joost told you it would be, not leaving the Malmo Arena, I guess the hosts didn't want to spend more money renting another place out for the singers, at least it was well know and easy to find. Stepping out of your car you hurry inside showing the security your invite from Joost and entering the main lobby reading your friends text to find the way glaring at the device unsure of what Joost was even trying to explain

"Are you looking for someone?" A strong accented and shy voice came from behind you causing you to turn around and blink a few times at the man in a very midevil looking outfit and gentle eyes holding a cup of what you assumed was water, but could be vodka- maybe he was crazy like that "Sorry- Im Marko.." He quickly introduces himself before continuing "You look extremely lost- Im sorry for spooking you" He says with a genuine tone leading to a smile pulling its way onto your lips. After introducing yourself you look back down at your texts "Im actually here for the after party? my friend- one of the performers invited me and he is quite the character when it comes to instructions..." You rub the back of your neck trying to explain the situation to the stranger who was just as bashful as you "Oh! I was just heading back! I'm not very talkative so I got some air but I can take you to the area they have for us" He offers running his hand through his hair that is surprisingly still in good shape like he had maybe applied hairspray not too long ago "Oh would you??" You put away your phone letting Marko nod and wave his hand indicating you to follow

"So who is your- eh- friend?" Marko looks over at you trying to make small talk. "Oh! His names Joost, he is representing the Netherlands." You explain and Marko's face brightens a little "Oh yes! I enjoy his company!" Marko nods with a smile "Makes sense you two are friends! it seems he can befriend almost everyone" He explains putting a finger to his jaw in what seems to be thought "Do you like cats?" Marko questions as you two get closer to the room, music can be heard from inside. nothing too crazy or club like but maybe just background ambiance "Oh yeah! They are so cute! I don't have any of my own but I like visiting my friends kitty's" You smile watching Marko excitedly pull out his phone "Oh let me show you mine!" He says as you two enter the room Marko going through his camera roll leaning into you to get closer so you can see better

Joost Turns to look at the door, hearing the squeak of the hinges that whines under the weight of it being even cracked open and furrows his brows seeing you walk in with Marko...What was he doing out there? Realizing he must have left the party Joost grows even more confused as to why you two were together- wasn't his directions perfectly understandable? His large blue coat long since shedded, Joost rolls up the sleeves of his white button up and crosses his arms leaning on a table watching the two of you interact. 'he is very close to you' he thinks to himself, a sour taste in his mouth watching you laugh at something he had said 'why is he, the shyer one of the bunch all buddy buddy with you? I mean you always have been so approachable- but that's not fair.' Joost clicks his tongue growing more and more impatient 'what if you are leaving me for him? what if you even forget who invited you here?' Joost can feel his patience thinning and the party getting quieter the more he focuses in on you two. Marko with a big grin on his face and you laughing at a photo he had shown you.

"Hey there you are!" Joost doesn't even recall when he had took strides over- or when he was so close to you he could feel the warm body heat emitting off of you "Marko! How nice of you to find my nieuwsgierig hertje". he purrs looking down at the man who is staring up at him "Oh uh-" Marko looks over at you and then slowly puts his phone away and wraps both hands around his drink "Yeah no issues" Marko nods. "No issues." Joost repeats grinding his molars together forcing a grin. he had never any issues with the Croatian- until he was basically in your arms "Bye-" Marko waves at you with a small smile wanting to escape the current situation and looking at Joost before entering the party again "Joost- You spooked him away" You sigh wrapping your arm around your friend leaning into him and Joost can feel his mind calming "He was too close to you" Joost huffs taking his glasses out of his chest pocket putting them on and pushing them up his nose

"He was showing me his cats-" You raise a brow and Joost looks down at you "that close? I think he just wanted to be up on you" Joost rubs his arms and looks away with annoyance lacing his voice "Whats got you in a mood?" you tug on his shirt and Joost grumbles "Nothing." He reply's and you frown "Nothing my ass, what's wrong" You stand your ground not expecting the tall blonde to drag you out into the hall not caring about his grand exit.

"Nothing is wrong." He snaps once you both get out into the hall "You were all emojis and smiles before you saw me walk in with Marko! he was very sweet." you huff and Joost crosses his arms "Sweet huh? sounds like you have a crush." He fixes his glasses that are slipping off his nose "I just met him Joost, what's up with you?" you frown walking towards him "This is a new side of you" You observe and Joost shakes his head "Im always like this okay?" he throws his hands up and you shake your head

"What- is wrong." you demand and Joost glares "Maybe I don't want to see someone I think highly of with some other guy." He says sarcastically "Highly of?" You push and Joost shakes his head "What are you talking about." You reach for him and Joost grabs your wrist, not hard- you could actually pull away if you wanted too "Someone I have wanted as mine forever, walks in with a guy who clearly was hanging off your every word." Joost pushes through his teeth.

you both stand there still as a wall and Joost observes your face, his pupils scanning you over and avoiding eye contact " you- want me?" You repeat and Joost sighs "onoplettend" he mutters and you shake your head "You cant use your mother tongue to get out of this Joost-" you say and take a shaky breath "Do you like me? like- like like-" You mutter and Joost swallows hard "Ja." He responds and you can feel your face grow hot "Really?" you mutter and Joost drops your wrist "Really. and it really- shook me I guess seeing you come in with him.." Joost grumbles and you shake your head "Your directions were ass" You laugh a little upon noticing Joost's offended face "They were eligible-" He defends and you sigh "I- feel the same- I have for such a long time-" You admit with a small smile "I never thought it was possible-" You shrug and Joost blinks at you like you are speaking in a whole other language

"Not possible-??" he repeats in pure shock "You are the most funniest, smartest, good looking, talented, and so much more of a person that I have ever met." Joost says his eyes going soft and you cant help the silence that comes after your brain still playing catch up with the new information "I wanted to tell you properly- a way you would see me as the same ways I see you..." He rubs his forearms nervously tracing his scattered tattoos. "but I guess-" He smiles "This might do?" he chuckles and you rub your mouth slightly with your hand "It does more than might do- I'm so happy-" You mutter and close your eyes taking a deep breath before walking towards him and embracing him in a big bear hug "You don't know how happy I am that you feel the same way" Joost says exasperated "Next time just tell me you goof than getting all jealous" You tease and Joost shakes his head "I was NOT jealous lets get that straight right now" He states playfully "Okay Mr.Not jealous" You chuckle as Joost wraps his arms around you "how does dinner sound tomorrow night-" He smiles and you nod slightly into his chest "consider it a date." you hum

Dutch translation: Curious deer: "nieuwsgierig hertje". Yes: Ja Oblivious: onoplettend A/N: heheheh I'm just cranking these out!!! I hope you liked it Anon and I hope it was what you were wanting! if not feel free to request again and I'm more than happy to keep writing!!! Thank you all for the love and the requests and everything! it makes my day seeing how many of you like my stuff....thank you! i love you all!!!!!

#x reader #joost klein x reader #joost klein #joost klein x you #joost klein fanfic #joostice #joost x reader

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brodieland · 4 months

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.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 Be you or be with you? ´ˎ˗

Percy Jackson x fem!zeus!reader Synopsis: When a daughter of Zeus and a son of Poseidon who just seem to hate each other get into a fight, they are forced to clean the stables together. Word Count: 885

The stables smelled like crap, because they were literally filled of it. And of course you had to be stuck cleaning the crap filled stables with a walking pain in the ass. Also known as Percy Jackson. So many people just love him so much. Sure he saved camp, and civilization I guess, but you didn't care. Something about him just bugged you, it was probably how he doesn't know how to listen, or how he has such a smart-mouth, maybe it was how he just does whatever and for some reason it just always has to work out for him. That luck bothered you too. HEY, maybe you were just a hater, but he was a forbidden kid and despite beating up the god of war at twelve, everyone liked him, but one time when you were twelve you accidently shocked a bunch of people in a lake and people are still scared to go near water with you. Shits rigged.

"It smells so bad in here" you mumbled to yourself.

"No shit" Percy giggled to himself, you may or may not have let out a little chuckle on the inside but you'd never admit that.

"Not the time for jokes when its your fault we're here fish breath" you spat back, clearly annoyed.

"How the hell is it my fault you decided to strike me down with your stupid lightning" he returned right back to with just as much annoyance.

"Maybe if you didn't absolutely soak me with your stupid water I wouldn't have done that" you yelled back.

"How many times do I have to say that I wasn't aiming for you" he's so stupid.

"I wasn't aiming for you" you mocked "there was literally no one else around" you are literally screaming now.

"Fine, maybe it was sorta on purpose," like I didn't know "but maybe if you didn't trip me literally five minutes before that then I wouldn't have gotten the idea!"

"Now THAT" you emphasized "wasn't on purpose, but I'll admit it was kinda funny" you started laughing a little. He stared at you straight faced as you laughed.

"Haha, I'm dying, your hilarious, let's just finish cleaning" Percy said. And with that, you both went back to silently cleaning in silence. Now in a few moments he spoke up again.

"Did I do something to you" he asked.

"What are you talking about" you said.

"You just seem to not like me and I don't remember doing anything to make you hate me so much" he sounded sad, you almost felt bad.

Maybe you did a little, because he was right. He never did anything to you, and if you were being honest with your self you were just kind of.. jealous? That was probably the word. You were both forbidden children, you thought that meant you'd both be in the same boat, but no. He's just so likeable in ways you weren't, people were scared of you because they think your dangerous but love him.

"Everyone likes you" you started. You stood there faced him broom in hand as you stared at the floor. Percy looked at you confused.

"I mean, I guess, but I'm sure there's someone who doesn't like me" Percy said.

"Exactly, you don't even know if there's someone out there that doesn't like you" you said, make Percy even more confused. "People don't like me because they're like, scared of me or something. So obviously I don't really have friends and I thought that was part of the deal until you got here and became Mr. freaking popular. You can beat up gods but gods forbid I accidently shock someone years ago." You've never shared this with anyone. "So no you didn't do anything, and no I don't hate you. I just kinda wish I was more like you."

You got quiet, he got quiet. You both were quiet. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said anyth-"

"Don't be sorry" He cut you off. "I didn't know that's how you felt, I wish you said something."

"What would that have done, other than make you feel sorry for me" you chuckled sarcastically.

"Maybe I wanted to be like, buddies or something, but you were always pushing me away" He said as he stared down at the ground.

You were stunned. Absolutely stunned.

"What, why would you want to be friends with me, I'm sure you've rumors about me. That I'm aggressive, or scary or mean." Sucks but kids suck.

"We both know there not true. Maybe you're a little short-tempered, but maybe you wouldn't be if people weren't always assuming the worst. Plus you're really pretty" He threw you a goofy grin that made you playfully roll your eyes and laugh in response.

Percy gasped. "Oh my gods, did I just make the Y/N Y/L/N laugh" he said sarcastically.

"Maybe you did, don't get to full of yourself Jackson" you said as you jokingly glared and pointed your finger at him.

"Alright then, so, is the beef over? Can we be friends now" he questioned, hopeful you say yes, really hopeful you'd want to hang out with him.

"yeah, friends. We can be friends" You both smiled at each other, happy to have put the arguing behind.

"It still smells like crap"

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson pjo #percy pjo #percy series #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x fem!reader #percy jackson fluff

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tqmies · 1 year

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Description. You and your friends have a pact, no dating unless you are. This is only fair seeing as you’re highly unlikely to ever get in a relationship, seeing as you tend to brush off every males advances. Unfortunately for you though, Na Jaemin really wants to date your friend, he’ll do anything! Even go as far as pay Lee Haechan, resident playboy, to change your mind about the whole dating thing.

Pairings. Lee Haechan x Female Reader

Genre. Romance, Enemies!(Sorta)To!Lovers, Comedy, Angst

Warnings. Mentions of sex, drinking, kissing, reader and Haechan argue for a bit, crying, etc. Let me know if I missed anything.

Word count. 16K

Note. It's finally done, my baby, my longest fic. Words can't even express how much a roller coaster this was. Please, please leave feedback <3 Thank you for everyone who voted for this haha.

ONE, THEY MAKE EVERYTHING ABOUT THEM.

You laid sprawled on your couch as your friends continued to gossip. This was a normal thing, you’d invite your friends over, have a few drinks and gossip would ensure. You didn’t mind it, truth be told, but there was a reason today was particularly sour.

Na Jaemin, Huang Renjun, and Lee Jeno had crashed your impromptu get together. Well, more like Yeji invited them, bless her heart. But did she really have to? Her explanation was that her and your other friend Chaewon ran into them on campus. From there, they had invited the boys to drink with them.

Sure, you get it, the boys paid for the alcohol. But really? Was it necessary?

They had taken all the attention away, practically commanding the room, and you couldn’t stand it. Of course! Here come’s buff jock Jeno, charming Jaemin, and pretty boy Renjun to steal the spotlight. And you detested all of it.

You and Karina sat with mild scowls on your faces, her’s from her lack of knowing other guests were invited. Being your roommate, she had done little besides change into a fresh pair of sweatpants and t-shirt, not expecting boys to come over. She freaked out for like five minutes after opening the door, you assuring her that she looked fine, but she was peeved for lack of warning anyways.

She took the loss and just decided to sit in self loathing over these boys seeing her without makeup. Doing little to contribute to the conversation, you just twisted the string on your hoodie as they called out your name.

“Do you have any lemons?” Jeno asks, looking over at you. His tone somewhat softer, trying not to piss you off. Even though he was already failing.

You barely even realize its you that he’s addressing, having tuned everyone out. You almost roll your eyes as your face scrunches upon realization of his question. “Why do you need lemons?”

“Jaemin likes his vodka with some lemon juice.” He explains, the other staring at you expectantly before looking between you two.

Of course he does, you just sigh and get off your spot in the couch. Karina follows after you, clinging onto you as a source of warmth. She didn’t want to be left alone without you after all.

“What kind of guy drinks their vodka like that? Be a man!” She mutters, pulling out a cutting board and knife as you open your refrigerator in search of the lemon.

“I don’t even know if we have one.” You say, standing in front of your fridge with your hands on your hips. Digging through the drawers, you pull out the only round object to be found. “We have a lime.”

Karina snorts and grabs it from you, slicing it in half. “It’ll have to do.”

You laugh at her remark as she makes her way back into the living room with the wedges of lime. Karina was your oldest friend, you two meeting in middle school. Attending university and living with her was a no brainer, and it was going really well. During your freshmen year, you two had met Yeji in the library, Karina befriending her after basically living there during exam season. You two welcomed her into your friendship shortly after that. She then introduced you to her desk partner in finance class, which was Chaewon. You guys all clicked and that led to your little found family that you had here.

You hoped these boys didn’t expect to squeeze their way into this sisterhood.

Karina hands Jaemin the lime, shrugging as he looks at it, then back at her. He awkwardly smiles and squeezes it into his drink. Though you can definitely tell he thinks this is the worst thing in the world, well at least he’s polite.

You and Karina go back to practically cuddling on the couch, her head right next to yours as you share a blanket. For the next ten minutes, you two sit in silence showing each other pictures on your phone, to which earns a nod or a hum of agreement.

The others sit on the floor, around your rectangular coffee table, with the bottles all over it. Yeji nudges Chaewon though, tilting her heads towards you two. You guys were usually so loud, had something happened?

Yes, something happened. Boys happened.

“Don’t you guys wanna sit down here?” Chaewon asks, patting the carpeted ground next to her. “And have a drink maybe? I haven’t even seen you two touch your cups.”

Renjun speaks up. “Yeah, you guys should come talk!”

“We,” You begin, gesturing a between you and Karina. “Are talking plenty.”

“How’s the lime, by the way?” Karina speaks up, smirking at Jaemin.

Jaemin just gives a forced smile and a thumbs up, though his drink remains untouched minus a sip. And even that, was a stretch.

Yeji gestures for you two to come sit, giving you two a stern look this time. She definitely was just wondering why you guys were acting so reclusive. She’s adamant, you’ll give her that.

Deciding that, maybe you’ve had enough attitude for one day, you take Chaewon up on her offer, plopping next to her. The spots also next to Renjun, who you deem to be the most bearable of the boys, so its not too bad. Karina sits on the opposite side of Chaewon, sandwiched between her and Yeji. Damn, you should’ve thought of that first.

“So, are you all single, or what?” Jeno asks, pouring himself another shot. He asks only out of genuine curiosity, but you think your demeanor spoke for itself.

You lied, you can never have enough attitude in one singular day.

Yeji nods. “Yeah, for a while now.”

“Can I ask why?” Jaemin asks, taking a sip of his drink. “I find it hard to believe none of you have found anyone you’ve liked here.”

“Why is that hard to believe? I find boys quite insufferable.” You speak, finally letting yourself have a taste of that vodka. The boys turn to you and you smile back sarcastically, having no qualms about what you had said.

“That’s why.” Chaewon sits up, looking at you. “We have this sort of, pact thing.”

“You really wanna get into this now, Chae?” Karina pipes up, knowing how this usually goes.

“A pact?!” Jeno looks confused.

“We have this rule, since we started this year, that we wouldn’t date anyone. You know, to keep our focus on academics and our jobs.” Yeji explains, the boys looking at you like you were all crazy. This was the normal response, shocked and somewhat disappointed looks, not like you cared though.

“So what? Plenty of people do that and still have relationships.”

“We’re just trying to stay as focused as possible.” Karina defends, shooting you a knowing look.

“There is however,” Chaewon starts, putting down her empty glass. “One exception to the rule.”

“Well?” Jaemin asks, leaning closer like a kid waiting to be told an answer.

“Yn is the most responsible one between all of us. If anyone can do both, it’s them. Therefore, if she gets a boyfriend, the rest of us are free to date!”

“That sounds stupid.” Renjun deadpans, and you’d kind of agree. It wasn’t even your idea anyways, they just held you to such a standard that they believed the day you got a boyfriend would be the end to all. Therefore, they placed their bets on staying focused onto you staying single. Normally, you’d be offended, but so far it was shaping up to be true.

“We take this super serious as well.” Yeji nods. “Absolutely no boyfriends unless she has one. It’s just the pact of this friend group.”

“Plus, Yn runs from boys like the plague. So it only seems viable to stake our academic performance on her.” Karina adds on, shooting you a teasing smile.

“Wow thanks guys.” You mumble. “I feel so loved.”

Chaewon rolls her eyes. “You don’t have a boyfriend because you don’t want one. We are just following in your example.”

“So basically, this exception is impossible. Which is why you put it as one?” Renjun tries to follow and all the girls nod in response.

Oh Jaemin was in deep shit now. He knew about you, everyone in the room did. You laughed in the face of anyone who tried to romantically peruse you, not that they wanted to anymore anyways. Last time he heard a boy try to hit on you, it ended horribly for the entire hockey team.

To put it plainly, you were never going to get a boyfriend.

Jaemin wishes he had known about this before he fell head over heels for Chaewon. How could he not? That girl is perfect! But now upon hearing about her absolute refusal to date, this only meant certain rejection for him. He wanted to just be swallowed into your deep shaggy carpet, just let Jeno pry him out with a stick or something. This was just mission impossible, and he was no Tom Cruise.

“So none of you have dated before?” Jaemin asks, hoping he can get a hopeful response out of his crush.

“I had a boyfriend when I met Yn,” Karina starts, face turning sour. “Let’s just say there’s a reason I was down for this agreement.”

“Never had time.” Yeji looks away, clearly embarrassed at sharing her lack of relationships.

“Me neither!” Chaewon agrees, and Jaemin all but deflates. She was absolutely unattainable, as if she wasn’t before, it’s even more amplified now!

“And you?” Renjun asks, giving you a small smile as he tries to include you in the conversation. Though, you're not really having it.

“Doesn’t really matter, does it? It’s not like I’m getting one now.” And with that you decide to find solace in your phone, choosing to ignore the rest of the conversation for the night. If only it was that simple.

TWO, THEY’RE LIARS.

Damn it, after all the kindness (read: not killing him.) you had showed Renjun, he does this to you! He’s around fifteen minutes late, leaving you to awkwardly muddle around the stores front door. Goodness, you look like a loiterer.

You two had struck up an unconventional friendship after meeting again at your favorite burger place. You recognized him, and normally you would’ve walked off and pretended you didn’t know him. But you were caught off guard by his hat, and you just had to know where he got it from. He actually admitted that he crocheted it himself and you practically jumped up. This led to you rambling about how badly you wanted to learn to crochet. So, after exchanging numbers, you two agreed to meet at the craft store to pick up supplies. Afterwards he would help you learn crochet patters and all that good stuff.

But he’s late, and you’re about to discard Renjun as another “Failed Male.” on your list. All in all, it’s a list of males you’ve given a chance to, friendship wise, that had proved you right every single time. (Lee Jeno was on that list.) Renjun’s liar status was slowly creeping up right about now.

Hearing a car door slam, you spot Renjun pushing his hair back from his face, running towards you. He’s in a full on sprint, and he looks apologetic.

The boy in the drivers seat, who you recognize as Mark Lee, offers you a smile and wave. You manage to offer one back, what a weird kid.

Renjun slows as he approaches. He looks stressed as he speaks. “Sorry I’m late, Mark clogged his toilet and he doesn’t have a plunger in his apartment and-”

You cut him off. “Hey, whoa it’s fine. I’ll be honest, I thought you had ditched me, but hearing you were just unclogging toilets made me feel a little better.”

He stifles a laugh and just heads into the store, you following behind. This stores was huge, and with all these materials, you could likely be in here for days. Renjun’s familiar with it though, so he leads you straight to the needles and yarn.

Hm, maybe he’s not so bad after all. For one, he seems helpful with his friends, and he’s spending a chunk of his time hanging out with some random girl. He was alright in your book, and definitely not just because he was helping you.

Grabbing a couple patters and some yarn, Renjun throws it into the cart you’re pushing. Standing before the needles he looks around. “I have no idea what the best needle for a beginner would be.”

You blink, who else would know? “What needle did you start with?”

“My grandma gave it to me, I don’t know the millimeters on it or anything.” He shrugs, grabbing the needle set that looks most like his.

You just agree, not like you had a choice anyways. About fifteen minutes later, you two push the cart into the lengthy line. Renjun had grabbed a few things for himself as well, saying he could never have too much yarn. You started conversing about which pattern to try first when his phone rings.

He shoots you an excuse me, and pulls out his phone, groaning at the sight before answering it. The person on the other end speaks frantically as Renjun tries to keep up with his reponses. “Hello? What? No-”

He’s cut off by the voice on the other side loudly shouting. “Fine! I don’t care, I’m just with Yn so...No! You’re disgusting.”

You watch as he hangs up abruptly, pushing his phone back into his pocket as he sighs. “It was Donghyuck.”

“Who?”

“Haechan,” Renjun clarifies but watches as you still look confused. “Lee Haechan.”

Though your expression remains as you shrug. “Never heard of him.”

“Well,” Renjun starts but waves himself off. “Doesn’t matter, he was calling saying he had a girl over. He’s my roommate, and hes loud.”

You laugh a little. “Try living with Karina.”

“No,” He shakes his head. “Haechan is like living with fifteen Karinas, but they’re all men, and they’re all really horny.”

“Ew?!” You manage, watching how Renjun was dead serious as you laugh at his expense.

“They’re all messy too!”

Before you can comment back, the two of you make your way to an open register as the number is called. The man bags your things and you head out, excited to finally start this intimidating hobby you were interested in.

“So to my place then?” You ask, assuming this Haechan wouldn’t want you around if he’s boning someone. Renjun just groans, “But my patterns are at my place, I wanted to work on one of my projects.”

You don’t know what to say. “We can go pick them up?”

“Then sneak out and hope his fuck buddy doesn’t hear us?” Renjun continues, but the more he thinks about, the more he thinks he can do it. It couldn't be that bad anyways, right? Then he's reminded of his whole mission today. “I’m crocheting a bunny and I really need those patterns.”

You wait for him to continue as he looks like he has more to say. So you offer a simple, “Cute.”

“It’s for a girl,” He resumes, his face heating up slightly as he thinks of her. “I really wanted to finish it as soon as possible, so I could ask her to be my girlfriend. Bunnies are her favorite animal.”

“Awe!” You beam, that was such a cute gesture. Your heart fluttered for something as adorable as that. “Renjun, that’s so sweet!”

“Really? Funny coming from the romance hater.”

You roll your eyes as he kills the mood. You didn’t exactly hate it, it was just something that left you scarred. Something you didn’t care for much anymore. Though, sometimes you can’t suppress the little hopeless romantic in the back of your mind. Renjun doesn’t have to know all that though. “I don’t hate romance, I just find it rather trivial.”

“I find you rather trivial.” Renjun remarks back sarcastically and you can’t help but laugh at how stupid he is. He fake winces as you hit him on the shoulder.

“Let’s get you those patterns loverboy!”

“Don’t call me-” But you slam your car door closed before he can continue. You just wait for him to slide into your passangers seat, unamused expression still present on his face.

He grabs your phone as you hand it to him and inputs his address. “Is this the first time you’ve gone to a guys house?”

“Very funny.” You scoff, facing the road. “I’ll have you know I’ve been to a guys house before.”

“That’s surprising.”

You fight the urge to playfully (kinda) hit him on his arm again. Opting instead to turn up your radio and make the ride without anymore stabs at your love life.

It doesn’t take long for you to arrive there. Renjun was really helpful with directions and where to park, so now all that was left was getting the stuff.

“You want me to go in alone?” Renjun asks, like he can’t believe the girl he’s known for a week doesn’t want to enter his apartment with him. You knew Renjun sure, but you had watched too many crime shows to not be a little cautious.

“Why wouldn’t you?” You ask, genuinely as he frowns.

“Just come grab them with me, I need another set of hands for my yarn too!” Renjun pleads as he continues to beg, you sighing as you give in.

“Fine!” And you turn your car off as you follow behind him slowly. You wish you had more resilience but you just wanted to get back into the warm confines of your room so, who could blame you? You watch as Renjun unlocks his apartment and listens in as he’s met with silence.

“That’s weird-“ Renjun starts but is cut off by a loud moan. You mentally beat yourself up for agreeing to enter with him.

“If I have to hear it, so do you.” Renjun continues as he enters his apartment further, and you just stand still. How could he so calm about this? You weren't a prude or anything, but you'd think you'd die of embarrassment if you came home to your roommate moaning up a storm. “Well come on, the yarns in my room!”

You just stand in disbelief, before hastily walking behind him. You couldn’t believe this. He goes to what you assume is his room and fumbled with the door, only to realize it’s locked.

“Is this not your room?” You tease, eyebrow raising. He gives you a glare as he tries to open his door again, still not budging.

“Of course this is my room. How big of an idiot do you think I am?” Renjun shoots back, and you almost laugh with how quick he is.

“Well..” You pretend to think and he looks halfway offended.

“I don’t remember leaving it locked when," He changes the subject as he trails. A look of realization on his face. "Oh my god.”

“What?” You asked, sure something was dawning on Renjun, but you were lost. He basically freezes in place as he stares at his door knob and the tips of his ears turn red.

You’re both derailed by another chorus of moans striking the air, but this time it’s apparent who’s room they’re coming from. It’s Renjun’s.

“You freaks!” Renjun screams, pounding on the door. “Open this damn door Haechan or I will pull it off the hinges and throw it at your big ass head!”

Once again, you’re quiet in disbelief. Almost managing to stuffer a soft “What?”

“It’s a kink he has. Fucking idiot does this to me even though I told him to stop!" Renjun shouts the last part so that his friend can hear, though he's met with no response. He bangs on the door again, "You're gonna pay for this!"

A laugh comes from inside his room as, who you assume to be Haechan, teases him. "Yeah right, what're you gonna do? Fuck that Yn girl on my bed?"

"You two are fucking on my bed?!" Renjun shrieks, ignoring the dig Haechan took at you. Geez, he sounded like a complete dickhead.

"What? You thought we were on the floor?" Haechan responds, the girl trying, yet failing, to stifle her moans.

"Oh my god, this is the worst day of my life." You whisper, jaw slacked.

"Of your life?!" Renjun yelps, staring blankly at his door. "I'm going to need all new sheets."

You tug on his arm, wanting to sprint out of there. "Lets just go, you can make that bunny another day."

"I'm going to kill him." Renjun groans, pulling back slightly before giving up and treading out of his apartment. You just keep your mouth closed as Renjun's face sours.

"Wanna sleep on my couch?" You offer, knowing you'd want someone to do the same if that had just happened. "I know you're going to have to like.. burn those covers."

"If it's not a big deal," Renjun trails, thinking about it. "Yeah I would."

"Fun!" You clap your hands. "We can have a sleepover! I can do your nails and show you my favorite movie-"

"Please shut up already." He rolls his eyes as he pushes you out of the elevators towards your car as you giggle. "This is going to be a long night."

About ten blocks away lays Na Jaemin, on his couch as he stares at his phone, awaiting another text from Chaewon. The two have been talking a lot recently, albeit on a friendly level, but he's spoken to her enough to know he's definitely whipped.

Jeno, his roommate, walks into the room as he stays glued to his own device. Although he's in a Chaewon induced haze of love, Jaemin notices that odd behavior. Jeno isn't one to be on his phone like that, so what was so interesting? "Who are you texting?"

"Karina." The other responds, eyes not leaving his phone for a second as he takes a seat on the couch opposite of Jaemin.

"Seriously?" Jaemin begins, and Jeno rolls his eyes, knowing what the other is implying. Jaemin sits up slightly, "She's off limits."

"Yeah and so is Chaewon," Jeno pauses, giving the other a dirty look. "But that isn't stopping you."

Jaemin wants to launch the nearest pillow in Jeno's face. "I actually like Chae-"

Jeno interrupts him before he can continue proclaiming his love. "Chill out, it's not even like that. Karina's just texting me about Renjun."

"She's into Renjun?!"

"No!" Jeno responds, annoyed. "He's just crashing on her couch."

"Boring." Jaemin says, refreshing his DM's to see if he missed a reply from his crush yet. Surprise surprise, he didn't. "I'm never going to get a chance with Chaewon, am I?"

Jeno shrugs, finally placing his phone down as he gets to grab a bottled water from the fridge. "There are other girls."

"She isn't just some girl," Jaemin responds, sincere in his words. "I really like her, man."

"Well then do something about it."

And Jaemin just might have to.

THREE, THEY DON'T MIND THEIR BUSINESS.

"So you really did bone?" Lee Haechan stands against your door as you fight the urge to slam it in his face. Your face is showing clear signs of displeasure at this stranger standing at your front door, but if he noticed, he sure wasn't doing anything to brighten your mood. But then again, he's just a guy, what more did you expect from him?

"It's really none of your business." You declare, not backing down. If he wanted an argument, then who were you to refuse?

"Whatever, Renjun will fuck anything that walks." And that statement sounds so funny coming out of the mouth of someone who'll actually fuck anything, according to Renjun. Who was he to slutshame anyways?

"What? Are you self projecting right now?"

Haechan opens his mouth to speak again but you stop him with a glare and a wave of your hand. "Let me just go wake Renjun so you can get off my damn property."

Leaving Haechan at your front door, you shake Renjun awake by his shoulders as he lays. He lays as still as a rock, not reacting to your small "Wake up, Haechan's here to take you home."

Renjun groans in response, stretching as he mutters out a "Tell him to fuck off."

"Good luck with that." You smirk, holding back a laugh. "Don't forget you have to spray your room for bed bugs later."

"You're not funny." Renjun shoots back but ironically lets out a laugh. He's still half asleep as he lazily makes his way to your front door. Yet, upon spotting Haechan, he seems to be wide awake.

"What the hell are you even doing here?!" Renjun all but shouts, "I should beat your ass right here for that stunt you pulled!"

"Stunt?! I was pleasing a girl, something you would know nothing about! Especially if Yn's attitude is any indicator, you must be a bad lay." Haechan cackles, yet the two of you remain anything but amused.

"If you actually payed attention to your friend, you might know he actually has someone he likes." You step in, tired of the comments. "And it's not me."

"So? Doesn't mean he can't sleep with someone else." Haechan furrows his brows at your statement. His eyes widen upon realization of what you're saying. "Awe, you're so naive to think that. It's kind of cute honestly."

"Get out." You say through gritted teeth. Haechan backs up and you watch Renjun step out of your apartment, knowing he had to leave too if you wanted any peace in your own place. "Renjun, you can-"

"No I'd better go, I have to knock this one's head against the wall." He nods, promptly grabbing Haechan by the ear as the other protests. Dragging him away as he leans down, letting out a string of ow's in his wake. You just watch, he deserved it anyways.

"Why have I been seeing Lee Haechan everywhere?!" You exhale, stabbing a fork into your food. You and your friends were having lunch outside on a picnic table on campus, shaded by the strong oak tree's nearby. It's such a beautiful day, but the proximity of an unwanted face makes your mood dampen.

Karina chews her food. "You sure you're not imagining him?"

You put your fork down. "If I was imaging someone, it'd be like.. Song Kang or someone hot! Haechan is like a rodent!"

"Rodent is a little harsh, no?" Yeji scrunches her nose, picking something off of Karina's plate. "He seems nice enough."

"Nice?!" You groan, looking to Karina. "Help me out here."

Karina just shrugs. "I haven't met him."

"And yet he's literally everywhere." You stare blankly at the open grass next to you. There sits Haechan, accompanied by Mark Lee and a boy you don't recognize. They're talking to girls, smiling as Haechan puts his full flirting charms to those poor victims. You pity them.

"Jaemin say's he's funny." Chaewon interjects, like Jaemin's opinion was worth a damn in your book.

Still you vocalize. "Funny doesn't mean he's a good person."

"I just don't get why you hate him so much." Yeji speaks, pointing her spoon at you as she chews.

You roll your eyes before crossing your arms. "If you heard the way he spoke to me, you'd hate him too."

"I don't doubt it." Karina admits, taking a sip from her water bottle. "But I also just think you're beginning to give him way too much attention."

"What?! How?! First, he violates Renjun's bed and makes us listen to those moans. Then, he shows up to my house like a maniac the next morning and then starts insisting we slept together, like it even mattered!" You scoff, the girls listening to your rant. "But not before making several inappropriate comments about me!"

"Since when did you care what a man had to say?" Yeji raises her brows as she awaits your response. She was somewhat right, you usually never gave a man this time of day over simple remarks. But Haechan just managed to get under your skin far more than anyone ever had.

Chaewon jumps in before you can formulate a response back though. Keeping her voice low, as he leans in a hushed tone. "So did you sleep with Renjun?"

"Chaewon!"

"I was just asking-"

"Wait?" Yeji stops, putting her hands down on the table. "Since when are we allowed to sleep with people?"

"What do you mean?" Karina looks at her. "I've had hookups since the agreement, I thought it was just serious relationships out of the question."

"Oh my god. I could've been fucking Changmin from creative writing class, this entire time?!" Yeji asks, mouth agape as she mourns a missed opportunity.

"Yes.." Chaewon trails. "Though, I don't see why you'd want to."

"Hey!" Yeji defends and the two begin bickering. They always had the opposite type in boys, never agreeing on a males attractiveness. So it was safe to say you were used to the silly little arguments.

Chaewon say's something about his short hair while Yeji starts to point out how the other likes 'stick skinny' boys. This then prompts Chaewon to go on a tirade about how 'muscles don't matter."

You're so wrapped up in the two's words that you fail to notice approaching figures in the corner. That is until the girls still and Karina greets, "Hey Mark."

Your head whips around and low and behold, there standing (a little awkwardly) is Mark Lee. You could've sworn just ten seconds ago he was across the field, curse you letting your guard down.

Honestly, Mark isn't all that bad, its the two he's brought with him that are trouble. And as Haechan flashes you a smirk, you really wish they would've stayed across that damn grass.

"Jungwoo! I haven't seen you in a while." Yeji says, the aforementioned boy rubbing his neck in embarrassment.

"I dropped the class we had together." The guy you've learned is named Jungwoo, responds. "I'm an engineering major now."

"No need for British literature there, huh?" Your friend responds back as Jungwoo laughs.

Yet you can't bring yourself to laugh at anything, given how Haechan had made himself comfortable at the table, choosing the seat right in front of you. Great. Haechan figured that this way, he can force you to stare at him, even if it's just for a little bit. Yet, you're looking anywhere but at him right now.

"How's Renjun, baby?" He breaks the silence, and you move to look him in the eyes, a scowl present on your face. You know he's not talking to you like that.

You've never wanted to punch someone so badly. "Doesn't he live with you? And don't call me that."

"Call you what? Baby?" There he goes again.

You really didn't want to deal with this right now, especially since it's like the male had been following you lately. You were being honest, you had truly been seeing him everywhere. The last thing you wanted was any type of interaction with him after finding him in all your favorite spots. The bench outside your building. He was there. The table you sit at in the dining hall. He was there. The craft store you went to with Renjun. Ding ding ding, you guessed it! He was there.

Moving to stand up, you grab the attention of the others. Karina looks at you quizzically. "Where are you going?"

"Away from Haechan." You speak honestly, closing the water bottle you were drinking from.

Yeji turns to you. "What, why? Mark was just inviting us to a party!"

"I'm tired." You say, as politely as you can, thinking of any excuse to not go to this party. You didn't mind parties, they were okay sometimes, but right now you just really wanted to be out of Haechan's general vicinity.

Chaewon peeks behind Yeji. "Come on, why not? Jaemin texted me that he'd drive us home! It could be fun, we could get wasted!"

Yes, because your ideal Friday night involved getting wasted and throwing up so hard you can't remember your own name. That was exactly your scene. "No thanks, I'm gonna sit this one out."

Yeji stands with you. "Everyone's gonna be there! It could be fun!"

They were persistent, as they were persuasive.

"Ok, fine." You really need to learn to stand your ground a little harder.

So that was how you found yourself, a couple hours later, back in the company of the one you swore you despised. It was inevitable that Haechan would be present, this was Mark's party after all. From what you've gathered, the two were close as well as the other boys your friends knew.

Jeno and Jaemin were here, Jaemin sober as he promised while he spoke to Chaewon, and Jeno? Well, if him and Karina making out on the kitchen counter was indication, not so much. Renjun just snickered at that, "That's gross."

You nod in agreement, opting to save your poor eyes from viewing anymore. Renjun is quick to take notice of the lack of drink in your hand though. "You're not drinking? Again?"

"Don't feel like having a hangover tomorrow."

"I'm starting to think you're a party pooper."

"Think?" You pause, as you make eye contact. "You know very well that I'm a party pooper."

"I didn't want to have to say it!"

"Say what?" A voice speaks as you instantly recognize who it is. He's slinging his arms over you and Renjun's shoulders, you being quick to brush it off.

"Can you leave me alone?"

"Why? So you can chat up Renjun? I'm protecting him."

"Only thing Renjun needs protection from is you."

Haechan raises a brow at that. "At least I know how to have a good time, misses sober."

You cringe at his newfound nickname for you. "Get lost."

"Only if you get loose."

That was by far, the weirdest thing a guy has ever said to you at a party. And trust me, you've been told many things at parties before. "Is that a challenge?"

"Depends, you up to it?" Haechan smirks that stupid grin of his.

Renjun's quick to pull on your arm, pulling you back to reality. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

"Okay Lee," You ignore the boy beside you. "I'll bite."

"Save that for the bedroom princess."

You and Renjun both look disgusted at that. "Fuck off, you know what I meant. Meet me at the beer pong table, and we'll see who really gets loose."

It only takes an hour and half for you to regret this weird thing you and Haechan had going. It consisted of matching shots with him, as well as chugging as many beers as he did. You didn't even like beer that much, it was just the competitiveness flowing in you that made you continue to down the fuzzy liquid. You could keep up, you had to, you had to make this idiot eat his words.

But a little voice kept etching in the back of your head, why did you care so much? You barely knew this guy, you didn't even know the simplist thing about him, like his major or favorite color.

Well, then again, you didn't need to know all that to know you wanted to beat him in this imaginary game you're playing. No rules at all, just drinking and drinking, a competition to see who could hold their alcohol, and maybe you were losing.

Stumbling to take a seat on a.. bean bag? You get engulfed as you sink in, mind as heavy as your limbs feel. You barely able to lift your head to look around the room, taking note of a few familiar faces here and there. Chaewon and Yeji are dancing in the crowd, Jaemin and Renjun are cashing out on bets of who'd get the drunkest tonight, and Karina and Jeno are nowhere to be found. Amazing, now you probably couldn't go home. Hopefully you could just crash at Chaewon's.

"Feeling it yet?" Haechan slurs into your ear as he sits on the beanbag to your right. He's well past the point of drunk, likely slightly worse than you, seeing as he was drinking before you had arrived.

"Nope." You lie, barely able to make eye contact with him. Why was it so hot in here? Were you sweating?

Haechan quirks his head to the side. "Liarrr."

You shift your eyes. "You're more wasted than me."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Alright you win." Haechan mumbles, throwing his head back into the seat. "Wanna get out of here?"

"Ew!" You reject, still having half a brain.

"Not like that," He says, words mushing together, and you can tell hes being honest. "Let's go swing on the swing set."

"Mark has a swing set?!" You sit up, practically yelling like it was the greatest discovery ever made.

He matches your energy. "The neighbors do! I'll even push you on it."

You just nod rapidly as you grab his hand and lead him off the bean bag, eyes following curiously as Yeji wonders why the hell you're holding Haechan's hand in yours. You definitely wouldn't remember this tomorrow.

Haechan pushes the patio door open, you two spotting the playground that must've been from years ago. Yet, this didn't detour you as you raced to it, barely able to keep up with the boy beside you.

Not because he was fast, but because you could barely stay on your own two feet without falling over. Haechan helps though, a steady grip on you as he helps you onto the swing.

"Woah!" You yelp, as you almost fall off of it, forgetting to grab the sides.

Haechan's quick to stop you and laughs as you can barely keep your head up. "You're in another world."

You lift your face up slightly, "Yeah? Then you're on another planet."

"Another planet is closer than another world!"

"Aren't they the same thing?"

Haechan's silent for a minute as he thinks. "I don't know."

You laugh, way too loud for your liking, but what did it matter? It was just you and Haechan here, and you could care less what he thought. "You know, you're cooler when you're drunk."

It's quiet for a beat before Haechan puts his hand on his heart, pretending to wince out in pain. "I'm cool all the time"

"Nuh uh," You argue back, childishly. "When we got here, the first thing you did was make fun of me! Then you dragged me into this."

"It's a game! It's fun!" He waves his hands around.

It's truly funny how things worked. A week ago, you didn't even know who Lee Haechan was. And an hour ago, you wouldn't have been caught dead with him alone. Yet, here you were, laughing as you try to keep your grip on the swing as he pushes you. Almost falling off balance a few times, but manages to keep himself up.

The breeze blows from behind you, almost giving you goosebumps with a lack of a jacket. Your mind vaguely begins to wonder what time it was, the pitch blackness of the neighborhood (Minus a few streetlights) throwing you off.

"You're more fun when you drink too." Haechan yells, even though you're directly in front of him. "Not pushing me away and running, or slamming doors in my face!"

"You deserved that!" You giggle as he stops pushing you, sitting on the swing next to you to take a break.

He stares at the stars for a few minutes before he looks at you. You look so cute, even in such dull lighting. Haechan leans in a little closer, to where you can almost smell the alcohol on his breath. "You look really pretty."

You can't help the way your heart quickens, but you shake your head, deducing it to be all the drinks in your system. Sober you would never react this way to Lee Haechan. The man of your nightmares.

Or so you told yourself.

You lean in a bit further, his eyes never leaving yours. "I know."

Haechan's taken aback but before he can reply, his name's being shouted across the back. "Haechan! Are you out here?"

"No!" Haechan yells in response, watching as the shadow of a person approaches them, leaves crunching beneath their feet.

Mark's face falls in relief as he notices you with Haechan. "Man we've been looking everywhere for you. Karina said she couldn't find Yn either."

You stand up from the swing, leaving Haechan sitting by himself. "I should be getting home."

Mark just looks between you two, confusion across his face. Since when had you gotten close with Haechan? He could've sworn you two were arguing earlier, even when you arrived at the party. Was he missing something? "Jaemin will drive you."

"I can drive her." Haechan says, ironically as he nearly tumbles over himself attempting to get on his feet again. He fishes his keys from his pocket and waves them around as Mark snatches them from his grip.

"You're not driving anywhere." Mark rolls his eyes. "Renjun's taking you home too."

And like a dad caring for his children, he leads you both back inside, careful not to let Haechan run off to who knows where. (He had a tendency of doing that.)

"But it's not even midnight!" Haechan protests, with his head down.

"It's two in the morning!" Mark corrects as he shakes his head, grabbing Haechan by the arm. Your eyes widen, was it really that late already? Time flew by weirdly fast with Haechan. Not that you enjoyed it or anything, must've just been the alcohol. Yeah, definitely.

"But I don't wanna leave her." Haechan says, prying himself off of Mark and onto you. Clinging to you like you were best friends. You, not knowing better in your state, hug him back.

"You two look like idiots." Mark comments, trying to separate you guys, the both of you telling him to stop. Your grip on each other tightening with every tug.

"Wait!" Yeji catches up to you, smirking as she pulls her phone out. "Let me take a picture first."

You just hum, drunkenly posing for the photo as Haechan throws a peace sign up. The two of you with stupid smiles on your faces. Idiots, that would be the correct thing to say about you guys now.

"Okay," Renjun approaches, eyes heavy as he just wants to go to sleep right about now. He tries to pull the other off of you, but you tighten your grip as well. "Haechan, let's go!"

He shakes his head and Renjun just about gives up as he throws his hands in the air. "Find your own way home."

Haechan nuzzles into you for about two more minutes before he registers what Renjun said. "Oh no! Renjun's leaving me!"

You just nod and Haechan lets go of you, running towards the front door as he yells a small goodbye to you. You yell back across the house, and he shoots you a thumbs up as he almost trips over the steps leading outside.

You pout slightly as you watch him go, your source of warmth being gone now. Oh well, you start looking around for your roommate, but you spot Jeno in the kitchen alone without her. Where the hell did she go? Didn't matter, you were just going to relax on the couch now.

It would be okay to close your eyes for a minute right?

Well, you closed your eyes for a bit longer than a minute. In fact, when you opened them next, there was sunlight shining through the living room windows.

The headache hits you first, feeling like you had been ran over as your whole body was sore. Likely from the amount of dancing and running you had done. You even vaguely recall going outside. To swing? With Haechan?

You sit up, a little fast for your head, and look around. You spot Chaewon and Karina on the couch across from you, legs intermingled as they hugged, they must've been wasted when they went to sleep too. You can see Yeji's jacket still on the couch, registering the sound of a toilet flushing.

Why was it so loud? You throw your head back on the couch as Yeji enters the living room. "You're up." She whispers, sitting down on the love seat next to you.

"Yeah, where are we?" You groan back.

"Mark's house." She answers back, watching your facial expressions. "Do you really not remember?"

"No." You rub your eyes, the headache still present.

"So you definitely shouldn't check your phone." Yeji laughs, picking your phone up from the ground and throwing it in your lap.

You place your phone beside you. "Why are we at Mark's house?"

Yeji leans back. "Jaemin ended up getting too drunk to drive us. Mark offered to call us an uber but he couldn't find his phone. He tried to find Renjun too but he had already left. Then Mark just gave up and went to bed. Jaemin and Jeno are asleep in the other room."

You barely even process all of that as you just raise your eyebrows , picking up your device. And to your surprise, its full of notifications, yet all from one app.

There, laying on your Instagram dashboard, is a photo of you and a clearly drunk Haechan. He's leaning into your face, the sides of your faces pressed together inside the small frame. He's smiling that stupid little smirk and you're grinning widely. To make matters worse, its accumulated the most likes you've ever seen on your page. There's tons of comments too, most stating how cute you two are. The others commenting that they didn't even think you knew each other. There were a few random ones too, talking about couple goals and how you made the explore page. What?!

Your finger hovers over the button to delete the post, but it is a rather cute picture. Despite the fact that you were going to kill whoever posted it on your page, maybe you'd keep it.

"Who the hell posted me and Haechan?!" You speak, not caring for the volume you were speaking at. It was in fact ten already, hopefully no one would mind too much.

Yeji shushes you, "I don't know-"

"It was Jaemin." Chaewon nods, shifting to get Karina off of her, though the latter doesn't move a bit. But when had Chaewon even woken up?

Your eyes widen, getting up as you're blinded by the need to cuss Jaemin out. Entering the first room you come across, you spot Mark asleep in his bed, Jaemin and Jeno on the floor.

You lean down and smack Jaemin, waking him up as he looks startled. "Mom?"

"No!?" You yell, shaking him by his shoulders. "Why did you post that photo?"

"What photo?"

"Motherfu-"

"He was drunk." Mark sits up, rubbing his eyes, making you feel slightly guilty for waking him too. "Why don't you just delete it?"

"It has a few thousand likes already!"

"You're famous?"

You shake your head. "No, but this means all of his fangirls are going to be at my door this morning after our post made the explore page."

"So what you're saying is," Jaemin pauses, looking at you. "I made you famous? You should be thanking me."

"What the fuck?" You blurt out, "I'm going to strangle you."

Jaemins eyes grow big as you reach towards him, he struggles to avoid your hands. "I just thought it was a cute picture! You guys looked so friendly!"

"Well we're not! I'm not even friends with him!"

"You are after last night." Mark comments, looking around for Jeno's shirt. You had been so distracted that you didn't even notice the half naked boy across the room as he slept. Then you realize Mark's words, you two were friendly last night? You'd rather dive into a dumpster than hang out with Haechan. Well, apparently not?

"I'm going home." You give up. "Sorry for sleeping on your couch Mark."

The latter just shrugs. "Anytime, I don't mind."

What a weird guy.

You locate your keys in a bowl on the kitchen table, promptly placed there with many others after Jaemin had confiscated all your keys. You look over to Karina on the couch and decide you don't want to be the one to wake her, she was usually grumpy when hungover. Eh, Jeno can drive her home.

After grabbing your jacket and making your way to where your car sits, you gape in horror. "Someone vomited on my car?!"

FOUR, THEY CONFUSE BEING FRIENDLY FOR FLIRTING.

This one was one you had seen time and time again. You've experienced it first hand, as well as had to swoop in and save your friends from it. It always goes the same, every time. A boy approaches you, usually meeting for the first time, and takes your friendliness as a sign of being interested.

Like the time Chaewon had to awkwardly explain to the worker at the Van's store that she wasn't giving him her phone number, she just wanted him to look up her loyalty account for points. To which he had insisted that she was smiling at him so much, how could he not think she wanted to give him her number?

Or when Karina and you were at Starbucks and she held the door open for a guy to walk in. He then immediately turned around and asked her for her Instagram so they could talk. Then when she said she wasn't interested, he walked away angrily.

Moral of the story: Men always think you're hitting on them just because you're being nice.

More than half of the time, they're wrong.

This is why you're not friendly.

However, your judgement seems to be impaired when you're drunk. Considering how your attitude with Lee Haechan had died down, he took it as a sign of a new bestfriend. And even worse, he thinks he can flirt with you.

He's even managed to convince himself that you're desperately in love with him, teasing you every time he sees you.

Karina thinks it's hilarious as you complain to her, "He's just naturally flirty."

You roll your eyes. "He thinks I'm in love with him!"

"Maybe you are." She responds and you don a repulsed look on your face.

"Me? In love with Lee Haechan? Never."

"Your adamance on not being in love with him is suspicious."

"How?!" You ask as you continue to finish off the last of the bows that you were crocheting for Renjun's bunny. He had decided last minute that he wanted the bunny to have cute accessories, so he had set you up to the task as a repayment for teaching you how to crochet at all.

"Well for one, you've been spending an awful lot of time with each other." She points out and you hate that she's right. These past few weeks since the party, they boy has been glued to your hip.

"Not voluntarily. He follows me everywhere!" You respond.

"You go to his apartment!"

"Because Renjun lives there." You reason, and it was true. Renjun was a friend, and you were learning something from him. Why wouldn't you be at his apartment? "I don't go to see Haechan!"

"Are you sure?" Karina quirks a brow and you look at her in disgust.

"Yes I'm sure."

"Okay, so what about you leaving that post up?"

"What post?" You feign, knowing full well what she was referring to.

"You're insufferable." She replies. "And in love with Lee Haechan."

You almost throw the needle at her. "Nope. Nuh uh, not in love with him."

"So why is he coming over right now."

"We're going to help Renjun ask his crush out, remember?"

She shakes her head. "I zone you out sometimes."

You scoff. "Worst roommate ever."

"Yeah yeah, heard it all before." She giggles as she continues scrolling through her phone. The door bell rings though, and she decides to do you one and get the door while you put your shoes on.

You immediately hear the voices of the boys as soon as the door opens, both greeting Karina as they enter.

You ignore the small talk though, "How are we feeling, Renjun?"

"Nervous." He responds, deadpanning. He wipes his palms on his jeans, sweaty and all clammy.

"You'll be fine!" You assure him. "She's like in love with you."

"Yup," Haechan agrees. "Just like how Yn is in love with me!"

"Shut up!"

"You didn't even deny it!"

"Gross," Renjun interrupts. "This is about me right now, can we go back to focusing on me?!"

"Yeah, sorry." You respond, knowing Renjun was worried out of his mind. It's all for no reason though, you know his crush returns his feelings. There's nothing to worry about, he shouldn't be so worried.

But, as you thought, he didn't listen to a single thing you said. He had barely even managed to calm his heart when you dropped him off at the restaurant he had invited her to. You and Haechan shoot him a thumbs up, the other muttering some words of encouragement to him, that apparently made him all the more nervous, but at least he was trying.

You remind Renjun to call you when you needed to pick him up, wishing him the best of luck. Though, as Haechan commented, hopefully his crush would be taking him home after this.

You just hit him in his shoulder.

Unfortunately, you never thought about the aftermath of this situation. It seemed normal on paper, two of Renjun's good friends drop him off for a gut wrenching date, offering their support.

Now what? Were you two just supposed to wait around? Should you go back to their apartment? Or should you drop Haechan off and just go home? You underestimated what you were getting yourself into here.

"So?" The male speaks before you can, raising his brows at you. "Got any confessions of your own?"

"Here's one, I think you're annoying."

"See, I already knew that. Not much of a confession." He sticks his tongue out, turning to face you as you keep your eyes on the road. You're quiet as he speaks again. "Well I actually have a confession, if you'd like to hear it."

"I don't, Haechan."

He rolls his eyes as he moves on. "Enough with the Haechan! Call me Donghyuck, like my friends do."

"We're not friends." You maintain, raising your brows.

"Yes we are! You just won't admit it!" He whines, not taking his eyes off you of you. "Doesn't matter, I'm still going to confess."

"Go on." You say, a hint of amusement in your tone. You were actually kind of curious on what he wanted to say.

"I want to take you on a date."

You scoff, of course that was it. "Lot's of other guys want to take me on dates."

"I'm not other guys!" He defends, whining in your ear.

"You're right." You begin, turning to face him back. "You're worse."

He lets out a wail at that. "Look, it doesn't have to be a fancy date or anything! Just let me buy you dinner, or take you to Dave & Busters!"

"Dave & Busters?!" You laugh, did he really take girls there? Not that you minded it but, this was Haechan we were talking about. You didn't take him as the type to take a girl out there on a first date. Huh, the more you know.

"Please," He puts his hands together, with pleading eyes. "Pretty please."

It sounded fun, that you'd admit. But you didn't really want to spend endless energy, and money, trying to win rigged arcade games and claw machines. "How about this? You buy me a pizza and a cinnamon roll from the mall food court and I'll let you think it's a date."

"Then it's a date!" He bats his eyes, smiling ear to ear.

It's been three hours. Three hours of radio silence from you and Haechan. Renjun figures he'll just send a bomb to your house. Nice and prettily wrapped with a bow, noted that it's from him. In this scenario, Haechan is with you as well, and you two just get blown up. To smithereens. Yes, that was a perfect scenario.

Renjun's not even in a bad mood, in fact, he's quite overjoyed that his confession was returned. His (Now) girlfriend beaming as she hugged the knitted animal, saying how Renjun was so romantic and how she felt the same way. He even got to kiss her!

However, this now brings him to an empty apartment, having taken the bus with her so he could walk her home safely. He had thought about just calling you to let you know, but he figured you'd answer later.

Now though, he feels really weird. His roommate is usually blowing up his phone, no matter the situation, yet he hasn't heard a word from him all day. So to say this was odd, was an understatement.

He's barely left to think for long before Haechan literally comes barreling through the door, you following right behind him.

You're both bickering playfully about something, you talking with your hands as Haechan tries to speak louder than you. "I told you that you were going to lose!"

"You cheated!"

Neither of you even greet Renjun, it's like he's not even there, though he's literally standing right in the kitchen. And Renjun can't say he approves of the sight.

You continue on talking. "You're just a sore loser!"

"You were taking basketballs from my side!"

"Well hey to you too," Renjun drags, waving his arm sarcastically. "I'm here, if you hadn't noticed."

"Oh my god, Renjun!" You say, grabbing him by his shoulders. "How did it go? I'm so sorry, this idiot made us go to Dave & Busters after the mall! Then, my phone died and Hyuck left his here and-"

Renjun raises a hand to stop you, getting straight to the point. Trying to hide by how he was slightly caught off guard by you and his friend spending so long together, alone. "I'm fine, she accepted my confession. We're dating now."

You squeal. "Renjun has a girlfriend! Hyuck, Renjun has a girlfriend!"

"Maybe you can stop being so moody all the time now!" Haechan pokes, squeezing the other in a hug. "I'm so proud of you, never thought you'd do it!"

"Well, I believed in you!"

Renjun smiles, "That's great. Actually, can I talk to you for a minute?"

You look confused, realizing that Renjun's looking at you. "Sure, walk me out to my car?"

He nods and Haechan wraps his arms around you, to which you push him off. "Go shower!"

"Aye aye, captain!" He salutes, causing you to giggle, before waving bye to you as Renjun waits. "Text me when you get home!"

You shoot him a thumbs up and turn to head out the door, Renjun following behind you eagerly. You wondered what he was going to talk to you about. Its funny, you felt like a child awaiting a scolding, just a tad bit scared.

He walks slowly next to you for a couple seconds as he closes his door, walking you to his complexes elevator. He looks a little nervous, opting to stare at his shoes as he speaks. "I"m going to ask you something, and I need you to be honest."

"Okay." You answer, a little warily. He was freaking you out with how formal he was being.

"Do you like Haechan?"

You open your mouth. "As a friend, yeah."

He shakes his head. "No, I mean, as in do you have a thing for him?"

"Why would you think that?"

"For starters, you called him Hyuck, twice. And then, you two spent three hours on a date, apparently forgetting about everyone else."

"It wasn't a date."

"Listen to me, he takes all his flings to Dave & Busters, okay? That's kind of his thing, I think it's weird personally, but it's tradition since he did it with his first one." He stops as he tries to figure out how to word things.

You just stare back blankly. Of course you didn't think it was special, he was simply taking you to hang out. It wasn't a date so why wouldn't he take you there?

"I want to know because, I used to be really good friends with this girl a while back. Everything was cool until Haechan got his hands on her, then it turned into this whole mess, and she ended up hating me for it. All because she had tried to get serious with him, and he just hated the thought of tied down."

You lean against the elevator wall. "But why-"

"I'm telling you this because I value our friendship and I don't want you to get hurt. Haechan's my friend, yes, but hes a really shitty guy to be with. I don't want to lose you too, just take this as a warning."

You nod calmly, but your stomach is turning. "Thanks anyways, but I don't like him like that, we're just being friendly."

You were lying straight through your teeth, even if you didn't know it yet.

FIVE, THEY'RE EASY TO FALL IN LOVE WITH?

You hadn't seen, spoken to, or thought of Haechan in a week. (The last one might be a lie, but what is that they say? Fake it 'till you make it?) But you decided to heed your friends warning, maybe you were getting too attached. Goodness knows you can be the type to get too comfortable with someone, not expecting to have the rug pulled out from under you. At least this way you were prepared, right?

What you couldn't avoid, unfortunately, was your friends pestering you about the sudden disconnection from the male. Apparently, Jeno had spread word about it to Karina, and it just fueled her theories.

She had pestered you about six different times this week alone as to why you had been dodging Haechan. You'd always just shrug and say you were busy, but she wasn't buying it. The girl lived with you, she knew something was up.

You had spent less time with Renjun as well, only meeting once at a cafe for lunch, but that could just be attributed to his newly attained girlfriend as well. So you used that as your main excuse for not swinging by the apartment.

Haechan had no idea what he had done, why the radio silence all of a sudden? Had he made you uncomfortable? Did you really not want to go to Dave & Busters? Was something wrong?

Had you found out?

No, threre is no way you could've found out. Jaemin's plan was foolproof, and Jeno was airtight, nothing was going to slip. At least, that was what he hoped.

You're currently sat in Yeji's room, Karina and Chaewon having lost a game of who had to go buy the food. (You had all played rock, paper, scissors for it.)

So the two of you sit cross legged on the floor, sliding beads onto bracelets. Sure, people might deem this a little childish to do at your grown age, but you could truly care less. It was a fun little thing and all of you got to have matching ones, like middle school kids.

Yeji hands you a bucket of letter beads, noting how you nearly finished one side of colored ones. Then she winks, "Who's name is going on it?"

"Mine," You look at her confused. "Who else?"

"Oh, I don't know," She rolls her eyes. "Maybe Haechan's?"

You almost knock over the container. "Not you too!"

"What?!"

"Karina is already up my ass about him! We're just friends." You frown. "There's nothing going on between us."

"Well, I think either you're lying, or you're too dumb to see it. Both are very plausible." She laughs. "I'm just surprised, didn't think he'd be the one to change things."

"He hasn't changed anything." You chide, and you believed it. Somewhat? Everything felt the same, it wasn't like you shot heart eyes at the boy every time he was around. You two just simply got along, in the same way you and Renjun did. Sure, you and him never spent as much time alone as you and Haechan, but that was just 'cause he was so clingy. Surely not because of anything else.

"He's the only boy you don't yell about! I haven't seen you like this since-" Yeji stops herself before she can go on.

You whip your head up, her face guilty as she regrets having opened her mouth. "Since Sunwoo? Is that really what you were going to say?"

She defends, "I didn't mean to!"

"I know," You agree, you choose to stay calm. You know she meant well, she'd never say it to hurt you. "I just don't like to bring him up. That's all."

"But my point still stands."

"And we all know how things ended with Sunwoo. He ended up breaking my heart into tiny little bite sized pieces. Thank you for reminding me exactly why I hate boys again." You go back to your bracelet, trying not to think about your ex-boyfriend.

She sighs, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" You shake her off. "Not your fault he was the world's worst boyfriend."

"I was out of line." She apologizes again, though you're already over it.

"It's alright. Everyone thinks I like Haechan anyways. Even Renjun pulled me away and started going on a spiel of how I need to be careful." You start, not noticing the look Yeji's giving you.

"So, you don't?"

"I don't.." You trail, hating how you're even thinking about it. "I don't know."

She sits up. "Wait a minute-"

"I just enjoy spending time with him." You admit, but you feel like you're about to throw up. You couldn't believe you felt this way. You couldn't afford to, not again. "More than I do with the others anyways. Can we move on?"

Yeji seems reluctant but nods, looking over into her kitchen space. "Jaemin's been spending a lot of time here, broke my favorite mug."

"The one with the cat on it?" You gasp, more worried for the cup than the boy.

"Yes! The one Ryujin made me in her pottery class!"

"I'd kick him out!" Your jaw drops, knowing how Ryujin would've dragged that poor boy across the floor.

She just feigns annoyance. "Chaewon would have a cow! The two are like bestie's now."

"Seem's like you're all teasing the wrong person!" You stick your tongue out.

"Nope, she honors the pact!" Yeji responds, "Like a lot."

"You're all stupid."

"Hey!"

You two are stopped by the sound of the keypad outside beeping as the code buzzes incorrectly. "Open up! Karina's making me carry all the bags!"

"I literally have soda's in both hands!" The other yells as you get up to get the door, Yeji toddling behind you with a half made bracelet in her hand.

The girls barrel in, rushing to place the food down on the counter as you and Yeji itch to get your hands on the bags.

Karina falls into conversation with Yeji over the wait time when you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket. You pull it out to see Haechan calling you? That was weird, he had never really called you. You two barely even texted since you gave him your number last week.

You just excuse yourself and step into Yeji's bedroom, answering the unusual call. "Hello?"

"Finally! Well, where the hell have you been?!" The voice on the other end pesters.

"What? I've been busy." You lie, tightening your grip on the phone.

"I miss you." He blurts out suddenly, the words making your heart drop. Sure, he had said tons of flirty stuff to you before, but now that you were slightly aware of some feelings? Yeah, this was making your heart race. His comment is followed by silence, neither of you speaking.

You manage to collect yourself, putting on your bickering tone. "Shut up."

"I'm serious! Let's do something tomorrow. Just you and I, wanna show you something."

"What could you possibly want to show me?"

"Besides my dick?" Of course he'd never miss an opportunity to make that kind of joke. What was he, fourteen? But you hated how it made you laugh.

"That's fucking gross." You make a fake-vomiting noise.

"No but all jokes aside," He begins again, speaking quieter through your device. "I'll see you here at 5?"

"I don't know," You respond, staring at your shoes as you think about it.

"Well then who knows?"

One day couldn't hurt, right? You'd spend time with him again and realize that you two are just platonic friends. Yeah, everyone wanted to make it so complicated, when it wasn't like that. Surely, you'd feel at ease after confirming things. "See you at five."

"You're ditching us?!" Chaewon's jaw slacks as you shake your head.

"Ditching? I spent all yesterday and this morning with you guys, don't be dramatic." You say as you slip on your shoes.

"For Lee Haechan?!" Karina speaks up, equally as shocked.

"Why are you all so surprised?"

"Because a few months ago, you would've been barking up any tree to get away from him!"

"What does that even mean, Chaewon?"

And the group stills, laughing at what she said. She just leans against the door frame, "Fine, go abandon your friends!"

Yeji pouts before patting the back of a fake-crying Chaewon. "Shame on you."

"I'll be back soon, we all know Karina's going to crash on your couch again anyways." You state, about to open the door.

"Whatever, not my fault you like to sleep toe to toe with Yeji in her bed." She rolls her eyes, referencing to how she had found you this morning. And yes, you were in Yeji's bed, but to say your toes were interlocked? Well..

"Just text us, we were thinking about stopping by Jaemin and Jeno's." Chaewon says, the others nodding their heads.

You shoot them a thumbs up and open the door, not expecting anything that would happen that night.

Haechan throws himself on his couch, groaning as he's lost another round of Super Mario Bros. to you. To make it worse, you're just laughing at his defeat, who even knew you were so competitive? He couldn't complain though, you had warn fair and square, unfortunately.

He pushes his soda towards you, a brand he beamed about for the entire day, saying he had picked it up on a grocery trip. (Your friend had whopped him when he realized Haechan brought home the wrong brand, but Haechan actually grew to like it. Well, considering now he had three cases of it, you guess he had no choice.)

He sees your eyes land on the can, before nudging your shoulder. "Try it."

You deny immediately. "I don't know where your mouth has been."

He gasps dramatically as he places a hand on his heart. "You wanna find out?"

"Get me my own and I'll try it." You ignore him as you give in, to which he salutes you and stalks out of the living room like a soldier. That guy was weird.

But the main thing on your mind right now, was what Haechan could possibly be showing you. You two had done nothing for the past hour besides play video games on his couch. So unless the soda brand - Or the potato chips - were what he wanted to show you, then you had no idea.

He returns with the soda, placing it was a clunk on the table, having no idea of your impending thoughts. "Try it and if you like it, then you can have a case."

"So that's what this is." You laugh as you crack the lid. "You're just trying to dump those cases on me."

"No I'm not!" He denies though he smirks a little.

"So," You begin. "What was it that you wanted to show me?"

"All in due time." He teases, grimacing as he downs another can. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that good things come to those who wait?"

"Didn't anyone tell you I was impatient?"

Haechan laughs, brushing his hair from his eyes. "Let's go."

He gets up from the couch, offering you his hand, to which you take. You don't know why, but you trust Haechan. He could lead you to a trap and you'd follow. But you have no idea why.

As you pester as to where it is that you're going, he just tells you to put your seat belt on and not to ask questions. He keeps his patience though, ignoring your whining about this mystery trip.

He just laughed though, telling you how cute you looked when you were pouting. You just shoved him and rolled your eyes, never admitting how hot your face would grow at the random compliments.

Then suddenly, you two were there.

Haechan wouldn't elaborate on what there was. To you, this just looked like a park in the city. But you could tell, with the way he was looking at the trees, this meant something to him.

You two walk up the trail in silence, you choosing not to say anything as he seems determined to get somewhere. You follow without qualms, admiring how dark it was starting to get around this time.

There were families still out though, couples laughing on benches as they fed ducks, and people walking their dogs. It was such a beautiful sight.

Haechan suddenly turns as you make your way up a hill, grabbing your hand as he points to the grass. "Sit with me."

You nod, sitting cross legged on the ground as Haechan stares out into the view. And you can admit, it's breathtaking.

You can see everyone from there. All the people, all the animals, all the trees, you can see it all. You catch glimpses as the sun sets, the sky painted orange as it illuminates the view below.

"It's so pretty." You comment honestly, thankful for the wind on such a hot day, you had never felt more comfortable.

You know why you do though, and it has a lot to do with the boy beside you. The boy you had only known for a few months, but had managed to wring your heart into a knot, he was right here. He made this moment perfect, he made this what it was.

You regret running away, for that week wasted, when you felt like you belonged with him. Your heart swells, and you wish it would stop, but it doesn't cease, not for a second.

Moment's spent with Haechan, they were never a bore, he was someone who you felt genuinely cared about you. Sure, he might have gotten off on the wrong foot with you, but no one was perfect.

He had a past, but damn it, so did you.

You know why you trusted him so much, why you backed away so fast, why you'd follow him anywhere. You knew it all too well.

You couldn't help it, you were in love with him.

"It's beautiful." He responds, resting his head on your shoulder.

You hum back, "Why did you bring me here?"

He turns towards you. "To do this."

Haechan cups your face, tilts it towards him, and then leans in as your lips meet. You don't move for a minute, taken aback by the sudden action, but when you regain your senses you kiss him back.

He pulls off a little before you grab the nape of his neck and bring him in again. You can't get enough, you love the taste of Lee Haechan, you feel like you could kiss him forever. You want to kiss him forever.

You separate again to breathe for a moment but he's pushing your lips back together, it seems the feeling was mutual.

You know you two look like horny teenagers just making out on a hill, something straight our of a coming-of-age movie. But you couldn't care less, you didn't care about what anyone thought of you. All that mattered right now was the boy in front of you.

And loving someone? It never felt this right.

You walk into your apartment wearing a dopey smile, Karina texting you that they she had went home, and you're thankful because your pillow sounds so good right now.

After the sunset, Haechan had took you to eat at a small diner, then to a little box arcade to pummel you in every shooting game out there. So, for lack of better word, you were exhausted.

You and Haechan didn't talk about the kiss after, he just smiled at you and then told you he liked you. You'd never felt such butterflies in your life, not even with your ex-boyfriend. It was different.

You call out for your roommate when you walk further in, turning on your lights as she responds. "Can you come here for a minute?"

You walk into her room, seeing Yeji and Chaewon on her bed. You giggle at the two. "Need me to help you move them?"

But she's not laughing, serious as she looks at you. "Maybe we should talk in the living room."

Your heart races. Did something bad happen? Was she okay? Were the others okay? Did the boys piss her off? There were a million things running through your heard at the turn of this night. Nevertheless, you follow her out into the living room, sitting with her. "Is everything alright? You're scaring me with how serious you're being."

She looks down at your attempt to lighten the mood. "As you know, we went to see the boy's today."

You nod, scared to speak. You even feel guilty, but you know you did nothing wrong, why did it seem like you were in trouble?

Karina continues, "They started drinking, a lot. But I stayed sober because I'm having breakfast with my mom tomorrow, remember?"

And now, its oddly apparent to you how she seems to be beating around the bush. You lean in, "Did something happen, Karina?"

"Well, Jeno and I were talking in his room, and all of a sudden Jaemin walks in, drunk obviously. Talking about how he won, and the bet's off now. I thought he was talking about sports or that sort of thing, but then he mentions Haechan." She avoids your eyes.

"What are you saying?" You whisper, meekly.

"Long story short, I got out of Jeno that-" She closes her mouth, and you can see her trying to word it, but your patience is running thin. "Jaemin payed Haechan to talk to you."

"What?!" You exclaim, standing up from where you were sitting. No, no that couldn't be right, that couldn't be true. It barely even made any sense. "Why would he do that?"

Karina stands as well, muttering two words. "The pact."

And it clicks in your head.

"He thought if anyone could sweep you off your feet, it'd be Haechan. So he messaged him randomly and set this whole thing up. He figured if the bet was broken, he could get a chance with Chaewon."

"So he," You start, struggling to speak. "Payed Haechan to make me fall in love. For this stupid pact I didn't even ask to be apart of?!"

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea. Once Jeno told me, I told him I never wanted to see him again! And look I know it doesn't even matter because you don't care-" She pauses as she looks at you, stunned at the sight. "Are you crying?"

And you let out another choked sob at that, her rushing to your side immediately. Your tears are flowing as you rub at your eyes, overwhelmed by the emotions taking over you. "Why are you crying?"

"I loved him."

She staggers back. "You.."

"And this happens." You continue to bawl. "This keeps happening, and I don't know why it keeps happening to me!"

Karina pats your hair as she hugs you. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I know! I know, I didn't! So why do boys keep doing this to me?! Why do I keep getting used?!" You cry, the words slipping out. "First you, and now Chaewon. Will no one ever just love me?!"

Karina tightens her hug on you, she knows it hurts, she was there. She held you a year and a half ago when you broke up with Sunwoo. Weeping in her arms as you recalled a text message you had viewed on his phone. How he was only using you to get to Karina. She hated him, she hated his entire being, and she still does.

But you didn't love Sunwoo. No, you liked him a lot but love? That was never there. You cried because he treated you like garbage, not because your heart was broken.

She can practically hear it shattering now.

You want to throw something, anything. You want to stomp into Haechan's apartment and throw shit around, making him hurt the way you are. You feel anger, and you feel hurt.

But what you feel most of all, is fear.

You still don't want to lose him, and that's what hurts the most.

SIX, THEY'RE NOT SO EASY TO HATE

When you were fifteen, you wrote a list. Clear cut and simple, straight to the point. It listed six reasons why you hated boys. And so far, to this day, every word has held true.

Sure, people might sit and laugh about it now. Say how it's outdated and how it's rude to generalize an entire gender because of personal experience, but you'd beg to differ.

You lean your head back against your car seat, sniffling as you sit. It's about twelve in the morning at this point, but you can't bring yourself to feel tired. You don't know what to do, you don't even know where you're going. So you go back to the root of this, the boy you thought you could trust. Huang Renjun.

You typed the name easily, not even expecting him to pick up. You don't know what you're going to say, you were so filled with anger that you could explode.

"Hey, what're you doing up so late?" The soft voice chimes as he picks up, half asleep as he yawns.

You burst into tears. "You were my friend?! How could you do this to me?! I trusted you!"

You can hear him shuffling around as you assume he sits up in his bed. "Hello? What? Yn?"

You grit your teeth. "Don't play stupid now, I found out. Are you happy? I know you set me up!"

"Set you up? Are you drunk right now or-"

"Don't you dare!" You scream into the phone. "What, did they promise you a cut of the money? Or did they tell you-"

"What are you talking about?" He yells back, completely confused. "Who promised me money?"

You start crying even more. "I hate you so much, you're just as fake as Haechan."

"Haechan? What do I have to do with him?"

"Do I have to spell it out for you!? Why won't you just admit you helped Jaemin and Jeno?!" Your voice is horse now from the yelling and your eyes rubbed raw from the crying.

"Yn." He calms, lowering his voice. "Talk to me, what did they do?"

His tone takes you off guard, wasn't he just screaming back at you? "Do you really not know?"

"Know what - Please, you have to help me out here - I don't know anything." He responds, and you want so terribly to believe him. He had your back, he warned you, he probably saw all of this coming.

But boys lie, that you know for certain.

"So you don't know that Jaemin bribed Haechan to get me to break that fucking pact?" You curse, voice low, and you hold your breath for his answer.

"He did what?" Renjun speaks, sighing. "And Haechan went through with it? That's so typical of him, but you know what? I warned you."

"Are you trying to preach to me right now?!" You say, pissed off.

"No- Fuck, I'm so sorry." And you can hear him sit down on his bed. "I swear to you, I didn't know about this. They probably didn't tell me on purpose, please, I can't lose you too."

"Renjun," You speak in the mic. "What am I gonna do now?"

"What do you mean?"

"I liked him a lot."

And the other end is silent.

If Renjun hadn't proved his friendship to you yet, now was definitely his time to show out. Well, judging by how he's literally tearing up the dance floor for your amusement? Yeah, he's gone above and beyond.

You laugh at him from your little booth, sat next to the guy he had brought along, Renjun's girlfriend across from you as she giggles at her boyfriend.

Her name is Heejin, and she practically crushed you with a hug earlier. Telling you all about how shes begged Renjun to meet the girl responsible for making her precious bunny those bows. Also laughing and giggling about how pretty you were, cheeks slightly red.

The boy beside you was Yangyang, a cousin who Renjun was convinced would make you head over heels. ("Hyuck and him are both stupid!" He had said, trying to point out their similiarities. "And both medium ugly, so they have a lot in common! Give him a chance.) But Renjun was mistaken because you didn't want a boy like Haechan, you wanted Haechan. And it stung.

Yangyang was funny though, and he was polite but it had only been a few weeks since you ghosted Haechan. You weren't ready or open to the idea of anyone new just yet. Yangyang didn't seem to mind though, he was just here for a good time, which he seemed to be having as he made you down a matching shot with him.

"Haechan's a total asshole." Heejin suddenly spouts, likely from having too much to drink. "I would've fallen in love with you for free!"

"Right?!" Yangyang shouts over the music. "Wait, who's Haechan?"

You groan, "Thank you, Heejin."

She sits up. "No problem, and I'm glad you came out with us tonight! Renjun said he hadn't seen you in weeks, I almost thought I'd never get to meet you."

"No seriously," Yangyang speaks, looking around. "Who is Haechan?"

"Okay, you're both trashed." You laugh, staring at your unfinished drink, pretending to stir it. Moving, you slip your heels back on.

"Awee, are you leaving?" Heejin pouts, and you shake your head at the sweet girl. "No, I'm just going to pee. Think you'll be okay?"

She just nods and you stand, pulling your too-tight dress down as you make you way through people. What were you even doing here tonight? Karina had basically kicked you into Renjun's car to leave, saying you needed to be out again. But what was the point anyways? You felt like you finally reached your limit about caring about boys anymore, especially one's that weren't Lee Haechan.

Goodness, there you go again. Thinking about the very person who left you like this, who didn't even fight for you or come looking. He knew what he had done, and you hope it eats at him everyday.

But you also hope he's okay. You hope that, maybe just a tiny part of him actually liked you, and that maybe your absence made a small dent in his life.

But you doubt it, not like you knew anyways. You would ask Renjun but they got into a fight, presumably over what he had done to you, and now the two don't even talk anymore. According to your friend, the other just comes home to sleep, busy going who knows where during the day.

Coming back from the bathroom, you find Renjun having returned, coddling his girlfriend as Yangyang watches with a displeased look on his face. You can relate.

Then you realize something, Renjun is drunk. Which means, he's incapable of taking you home. You confirm this as you and Yangyang, the only one's about to stand by themselves, sling Renjun over your shoulders and walk to his car. You grab the keys from his pockets as he protests. "It's fine, take my car and call us an Uber."

"Are you insane?" You ask, trying to ignore the pain in your arms. "Stuff three drunk people in an Uber and hope they make it home? Who do you think I am?"

But you're a bit thankful that Renjun wants to make things easier for you. You were a big girl though, you could handle driving them to his apartment, even if Haechan was there.

Right, you'd be fine.

That's what you keep repeating as you make the drive, unfamiliar with this car, but driving just fine. You can see Renjun and Heejin cuddling in the rear view, Yangyang sat up front as he stares out the window.

"I've been wondering all night," He speaks, taking you off guard. "What's got you all upset? Is it that Haechan that Heejin mentioned?"

You keep your eyes on the road. "It's embarrassing."

"Well, my girlfriend of four years cheated on me." He speaks, causing you to shift in your seat. The confession offbeat, not expecting his openness. "That's why I'm here, I live an hour and half away. But I can't go to my place knowing she's there, I can't stand to be around her."

"I'm really sorry," You say, sincerity in your voice. "You deserve better."

He just shrugs. "That's not even the embarrassing part. I can't be around her because I know I'll take her back, I still love her. Isn't that weird, loving someone after they did you so wrong?"

"It's not weird." You whisper back.

"Renjun's the one who drove me down here himself, he knows I'm weak. He knows I view love irrationally." Yangyang drops his head.

"That's not irrational, we can't help who we love."

He tries to piece things together. "Did Haechan cheat on you too?"

"No," You respond, gripping the wheel. "Well, we weren't even together."

"So you're upset over someone you weren't with? Ditto. I think we've all been there, I guess the only thing left now is if you think he's worth forgiving." And for how much the boy drank, you hated how he seemed so wise.

"I don't know, I think I was more upset that he didn't reach out. It's like he doesn't care, like I'm not worth chasing."

"Maybe he's giving you space." He suggests. "That's what I'd do."

"Do you think your girlfriend's worth forgiving?" You hated cheaters, and you'd personally never forgive one. So depending on Yangyang's response, will deduce how helpful his advice is.

"Fuck no." He laughs, leaning his head back. "But your situation is different, you didn't catch your partner in bed with her neighbor so."

Your eyes grow big as you stammer. "I-"

"Don't," He stops you. "If anyone else tells me they're sorry again, I think i'll throw up."

You nod. "I get it."

"Anyways, you can still save your situation. Just depends if you think he's worth your time." He yawns, just in time for you to approach Renjun's complex.

You stay silent, unbuckling your seat belt. What was all the contemplation even for? He could very well not even be home.

But those words are swallowed when Renjun's front door is opened, the boy you'd been dreading in front of you. He rubs his eyes, muttering how he could hear Yangyang's loud voice from inside the house.

Then he quiets, eyes meeting yours.

And you missed the sight terribly.

Yangyang grabs his cousin from your side, pushing past Haechan with Heejin following.

You just stare Haechan up and down. He looks down, opening his mouth and then closing it instantly. He has a million things he wants to say, but he doubts you want to hear anything from him.

So you talk first. "Why didn't you come after me?"

He stops. "What?"

"You didn't even call!" You throw your hands up. "I would've heard you out! I would've let you explain, but you didn't even send a text!"

He takes in your words with disbelief. "I- I assumed you didn't want to hear from me and-"

"That's right, you assumed! You didn't even try, you were just going to let me go." You hold back your tears as your eyes well up. "I waited for days, sitting by the phone for an explanation, for you to call and apologize. I would've taken it from you, you idiot!"

Haechan moves forward. "I'm more sorry than you could imagine."

"Was it all just a chore to you? Everything, all of it?"

"Listen to me." He shakes his head. "I didn't take the money, okay? I took it initially, but after the first time we met, I backed out. It felt horrible to keep doing that to someone."

"And yet you still kept following me around?!" You say, not understanding.

"That was because I was interested in you." He says without hesitance. "And after I ruined everything, I just couldn't bear to see you hurt. I feel horrible every day, it's been hell without you."

"You should've called." You meek, a tear running down your face.

"I know, I should've done a lot of things differently. I should've been honest with you sooner, I should've came clean."

"You know what the stupidest part of it all is?" You cross your arms, as you wipe at your eyes. "I would've forgiven you."

"I'm-"

"Because I love you." And you cry. God, you hated yourself right now. Crying because of a boy? And even worse, crying because of a boy? One you hadn't even known that long, but that managed to worm his way into your life, but had also caused you such sadness.

But as Haechan wraps his arms around you, whispering that he loves you back, you know he's someone worth forgiving.

EPILOGUE

As mentioned, you had made a list when you were fifteen. Unleashing your wrath among the male population after another one had cut you clean.

The list read as followed,

6 Reasons I hate boys,

1, They make everything about them.

2, They're liar's.

3, They don't mind thier business.

4, They confuse being friendly for flirting.

5, They're easy to fall in love with.

And 6, They're not so easy to hate.

Haechan cackles as you read it out, shaking his head as he stirs his coffee. "That's ridiculous."

"How so?" You place the paper down as you narrow your eyes, "Every single thing here has been proven."

"Well its not about the contents of the list," He begins, grabbing your hand. "To me, that sounds like a list of things you like about boys."

"What?!"

"C'mon, you like that I'm the center of attention. You also like when I lie to you about drama spoilers you see online to spare your feelings. Hm, and you love when I poke my head into you and Yeji's gossip sessions to give my input." He lists, counting on his fingers.

"And if I didn't confuse you for flirting, then I would've thought you hated me this whole time." He winks as you scrunch your nose. "And the last two are pretty self explanatory."

"Whatever," You roll your eyes. "You're the worst."

"But you're still dating me so."

"Against my will."

He mocks you, quirking his head to the side. "I'm going to make a list of things I love about you, but I think it'd be more than 6."

"Eww," You drag, still not used to such a sweet side of Haechan. "Corny!"

"Let me be corny!" He waves. "As long as it gets you into Renjun's bed with me."

"For the last time," You lower your voice, looking around the coffee shop. "We are not having sex in Renjun's bed!"

"He does it to me!"

"Only as revenge! And you guy's barely got on good terms again, do you really want to push it?"

He thinks about it. "Well.."

"Nope, not happening." You dismiss, looking over to the cafe counter. "Now go get me some of those cookies."

"Anything for you, my love."

And even though he's a boy, who hopelessly fits into your list.

You could never hate Lee Haechan.

Taglist: @fairyofshampgyu @lislis80 @jenoteamo @smwhrinthehazehaze @matchahyuck @ohmykwonsoonyoung @emvrd @allu-23

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justtimings · 5 months

Text

Gojo Satoru - "Could Get Used to This"

summary: satoru revels in the blissful morning with his lover.

contents: fluff, slightest bit of angst, established relationship, fem reader, sappy satoru bc my heart needs it

a/n: this was sorta inspired by jiwoo's 'greed'. that song is so good it screams satoru to me

word count: 0.6k

The humming of the birds accompanied with the soft rays peeking through the curtains caused Satoru to awake from his sleep, his squinted eyes rapidly blinking to adjust to the light. He stifles a yawn and refrains from stirring around in fear he'll wake you.

He slowly removes his arms from your waist to stretch, almost letting out a groan from the relief, and relaxes once more into the bed. Upon seeing your resting form, he cooes internally and can't help his endearing gaze when met with the sight of you. You're so precious, too precious to him, and he feels himself falling in love all over again as his heart thrums in his chest, the feeling only you bring out of him.

How did I ever get this lucky?

The strongest sorcerer never believed love was meant for him, or rather, he could not afford it. Not when he bears the weight of being the Gojo Satoru, the sole heir to the clan, possessor of the Six Eyes and Limitless; not when he experienced why it was the most twisted curse of all. That is, until you came into his life. Satoru is aware of the dangers that may await you, being his lover, but he allows himself to be selfish a while longer, to forget his responsibilities and bask in your presence. He knows you'd want him to do the same, too.

Your eyes peek open, slowly adjusting to the soft light shining on you. You stay like this for a while in a calming silence, enjoying the warmth of the sun creeping up your face, giving your eyelids the time to fully awaken. Taking a sharp inhale, you stir in bed and, no longer feeling your boyfriend's weight on you, sit up and turn around to him sweetly staring at you. A shy smile makes its way to your lips at the sight as you lazily yawn, your face scrunched from stretching your arms before plopping back onto the mattress to face him.

"Good morning 'Toru," you whisper, your voice holding hints of raspiness: he thinks it's the cutest thing in the world. Reaching out to run your hands through his hair, his silky strands bring you immediate comfort. You lightly scrape his scalp, to which he lets out a contempt sigh. "Mornin' baby," he says back, gingerly tracing your lips with his fingers before quietly clearing his throat to speak once more. "You sleep good?"

You hum, your hands sliding down to draw light circles on his back. You lean in peck and him all over his face, your feathery lips tickling his face, causing him to let out a breathy chuckle. "I'm gonna go make us some waffles. You comin'?" you ask, pushing yourself off the bed, but you can't help but notice Satoru's constant gaze, as if his eyes are glued to you. A slight smile creeps up onto his features, and a beat passes with no reply from him.

"Baby, you good?" you question, adornment evident in your tone, your head cocked to the side with a subtle grin forming on your face. Had his silence occured in any other setting, you'd have been concerned, but the tender look and fuzzy smile he wears on his face tells you everything you need to know. You'd never felt so full of love until now.

It's moments like these that Satoru ingrains in his memory indefinitely: the little interactions that always accompany him, even when he's not with you. They make him feel as if he's floating in pure bliss, and at times he finds it impossible to believe he's obtained this. He dreams of marrying you, of growing old together, of every morning being just as heartwarming as this one.

"Yeah baby, I'm fine," he assures you, his smile widening as he stands from the bed. "Let's go make those waffles," he says, walking towards you until he's a width away from your face, cupping your cheeks in his hands. He leans down to repeatedly kiss your forehead, muttering 'I love you's' in between each one.

I could get used to this, he thinks.

this is my very first fic, so if you have any criticism, please lmk! don't be afraid to dissect anything and everything because i know i need more practice, so your tips are very much needed and appreciated!

#gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #fluff #jujustu kaisen #gojo x reader #x you #x reader #jjk x you #gojo x you #tooth rotting fluff #black reader #x black reader #x black fem reader

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aseaofyoongi · 1 year

Text

behind pixels 1 | jjk

jjk x reader (f)

genre: sex worker au (jk)

rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)

summary: with rising stress, being caught touching yourself and no satisfaction for your own imagination you decide to take your friends advice of using a certain little app for assistance.

warnings: not another college smut au . . you guessed it lol; foul language; sensual/dirty talk; masturbation; computer sex; strangers to sex worker jk helping you out for the night lol (pls stay safe of the world wide web yall); mentions of sexual intercourse - but ofc there is none; cum eating. . she licks her fingers after.. yeah; open ending and no preparation for a pt. 2 so dont hate me.

next part: behins pixels the sequel

word count: 3,3 thousand words

posted: april 8th, 2023

BunnyBoy98 is typing…..

Is this your first time

here?

Sorta.

You can’t sorta be

here for the first time.

It's a yes or no question.

I thought this site was

no questions asked. No

strings attached?

You against conversation

or something? Desperate

to get right to it?

Not desperate. . but that is

what we’re here for.

Right bunny boy?

Right.

There was a second of silence in between messages. For a brief moment you interpreted his quietness as a goodbye but he was still online. . Perhaps, he thought you to be too straightforward and that turned him off entirely and he moved on to the next user.

Still, there was a faint hope within you that he would reply so you sat in the dead stillness of your room, lights turned off to avoid recognition, door locked with only your undergarments to hug your body.

Typically, this wouldn’t be the event to make-up your Friday night however stressed induced days. . and the simple fact that you were in a torment of arousal twenty-four seven with no further satisfaction stemming from the guidance your imagination had on your fingers.

BunnyBoy98 is typing…..

You sat up on the bed in anticipation of his reply even though you'd never admit it to the stranger on the other side of the screen. He was about to help you get off, so you were definitely at the gates of desperation. It trickled all throughout your body as if a rain cloud sat right above you drenching you in its honeyed ardor.

Your skin turned to goosebumps as the chat bubble continued appearing and disappearing again and again.

Fine. But at least

tell me how you

found me.

I wasn’t specifically

searching for you.

Then who?

Anyone really.

Ouch. You know

I actually felt a bit

special for a second.

You still should. You’re

description helped me

choose you.

Be honest, was it

the tattoos?

If I say maybe would

you be mad at me?

Not at all.

Then, yes.

Plus your description

says you have long hair.

Who was the

runner-up?

Someone named Tae. But

I remembered a friend

visits him often.

So you found out

about us through

a friend?

Yes.

We can do either a

video call or messages.

Which do you prefer?

Video call.

If you’re up for it.

I’m OK with it

as long as you are.

I’ll call you in 5.

I’ll be here.

The rippling anticipation waved through you like electric currents rumbling your entire being right off its course. Though, BunnyBoy98 was a complete stranger you were minutes away from stripping yourself of every bit of shame and vulnerability right before him.

You couldn’t believe you actually went through with it.

And it all began about a week prior. When your friend had walked in on you in a . . less than ideal situation. You succumbed to the pleasure of your favorite toy, legs stretched wide and completely bare on your bottom half. Overcome in the feeling as you maintain focus on chasing your own orgasm. You remember hearing the hinges on the door creak but you weren’t expecting anyone so you remained painting a fervor image behind your eyelids. Envisioning slender fingers being pumped in and out of you repeatedly.

There were beads of sweat strolling down your body as you were in position; about to be catapulted into outer space. The atmosphere you set for yourself was serene and the only sounds that could be heard were your occasional whimpers and the music that played softly in the background. Everything drove you closer and closer to where you wanted to be.

Where you needed to be.

You were so close then a gasp inundated the air around you. A gasp that most certainly did not come from you.

“What the fuck?” You shot your eyes open and quickly saw your friend buried into a corner near the door. She faced the wall but you could only imagine the revolted look on her face, “can you lock the door next time?”

“Oh my,” you quickly pulled the covers over your sweaty body, “can you knock next time?”

“I did knock,” she yelled back, “but you were a little busy.”

“So you just barge in?”

“I thought you might have been dead in the toilet or something,” she shrugged and turned back around to find you sprawled in your bed, “oh, you’re done?”

“What do you think?”

“I mean don’t stop on my account. We all do it,” she sat across from your bed and began spinning around on your computer chair, “I personally like to meet Tae when I’m in the mood but you know this all works too.”

“Who’s Tae?” you questioned sitting up in the bed; wrapping your bed sheets around your figure tightly.

“He’s from this app where guys kinda help girls get off,” she said it so casually you almost didn’t fully decipher the words escaping her lips.

“There’s an app for that?”

“It’s the twenty-first century there’s literally an app for everything.”

You cleared your throat, “is it safe?”

“Are you interested?” she waggled her brows.

“No,” you scoffed, “did you need something?”

“I can’t come over just to spend time?” she shook her head, “I should’ve let you finish. Maybe you would have been in a better mood.”

“Fuck you,” you giggled.

“At least use this next time,” your phone dinged after she quickly sent you a text, “let me know how it goes.”

Her exit was barely audible. You were too preoccupied studying the link she sent for the app called ‘Eargasm An App for Women in Need.’

BunnyBoy98 is typing…..

I’m ready.

Can I call you?

Yeah.

You can call.

The ringtone echoing amongst your walls was taunting, and your nerves nearly fooled you into letting it ring. And while it took a lot of physical and mental strength to actually pick your hand up and move it towards the mouse pad you were finally able to press the green button lighting up your screen.

BunnyBoy98 sat up against a wall; glowing under blue LED lights. His black hair was long as detailed in his description and it sat right above his shoulders. Though it was hard to tell under the stark ambiance his eyes mimicked the tint of chocolate and his piercing stare was aimed at you on the other side of the screen. . Well, it was actually aimed at your dark screen. Though, it was selfish of you, as you hid cowardly behind your turned off camera you wished he would remove the black mask hiding the bottom half of his face.

“Hi,” he greeted.

“Hi,” you murmured, perhaps a bit scared that someone might hear this interaction play out although no one would. You made sure your door was locked this time and you didn’t even have a roommate. “Should I continue calling you BunnyBoy or is there something else you prefer to be called?”

“You can call me JK,” his voice was sultry, soothing, grave. Somehow a mixture of all three in one; it vibrated in your inner ear like some sort of an invasively soft tune, one you know you’d be replaying many times after tonight.

“Sorry about the dark screen,” you attempted to swallow down any ounce of nervousness, “I guess you can say I’m a bit nervous.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” his reassurance quickly eased your frazzled nerves, “though I’ll admit you did sound a bit more assertive over messages.”

“I tend to come off over-confident through texts,” you snickered, “it’s a natural flaw.”

“Confidence is sexy so I would say it’s a blessing.”

The word sexy sounded so enticing coming from his lips even as they were hidden behind that damned black cloth. You roamed through countless fantasies of the man sitting right before you, about the way he possibly looked without being covered; how his touch might feel on your scorching skin and the tone of his whispers closer in the proximity of your ear.

“You’re awfully quiet,” he voice was playful, but it was so hard to read his expression behind his covered face, “have you begun having fun without me?”

“No,” you mumbled, “I haven’t.”

“Good,” he said, “why don’t you tell me what you like.”

“Like during. .” you drifted off.

He nodded, tucking his hair behind his ear, “What else are we here for darling?”

“Yes. Of course,” you huffed, slapping your palm on your forehead undoubtedly astounded by your own stupidity, “Uh, I like. .” You gave it some thought but kept rounding the same corners leading to you cluelessness, “I’m not sure I know what I like.”

“Forgive me for being blunt but have you touched yourself recently?”

“That’s the exact reason why I ended up here.”

“You’re addicted to masturbating?” He whispered as if he was keeping some big secret.

“No!” you answered back quickly, “Not at all. I’ve just been a bit stressed lately and well. . something else happened.”

“What happened?”

“My friend kinda walked in on me,” you whispered.

“It happens to the best of us sadly,” he chuckled, a sound so beautiful and gentle it matched the soft tune of songbirds in the morning, “how about you begin by telling me about the last time you were aroused. Just walk me through whatever got you in the mood that day.”

You closed your eyes leaning your head against the headboard. Your thoughts traveled back to a couple of days prior when your body sunk into the mattress under the hex of your fingertips. You were stripped down bare but you recalled the way every inch of your body was covered in a thin layer of sweat.

“I had just gotten home after my classes,” a small white lie was the price to pay to save any once of dignity you had left in the eyes of the stranger before you — in reality, that very day and every other day you’d found yourself under the amorous touches of your sinful fantasies whenever you saw him, the boy employed at the campus student center.

You didn’t know his name and in reality he only lived in your mind in small flashes. The first polaroid was composed of his cheeky smile framed by indents of his round cheeks. While other snap shots focused on the way he always wore in a half up half down style or a bun; others were centered around the numerous tattoos inked into his right arm, especially the snake sitting right above his wrist and the patchwork tattoos on the dorsal side of his hand.

“Were you thinking about someone?”

“Yes.”

“What were they doing?”

There was a rush of heat traveling through you as you recalled the way you dreamt up his touch against your body, the way his fingers left behind trails of goosebumps on your skin.

“First he began touching me softly,” It was like your body was on auto drive and before you knew it you set the laptop beside you on the bed and began getting comfortable on the bed.

“Was he touching you anywhere specific?”

You hummed in response, “he drew all kinds of figures into my inner thigh, kept inching closer and closer and then he would pull away abruptly.”

“Did you enjoy him pulling away?”

“Yes, it made me want it more.”

“Ok, I’m gonna ask you to do a couple of things. If you don’t want to do something just tell me. I’m here for your pleasure.”

You nodded, then realized he couldn’t see you, “Yea, that’s fine.”

A strain of the jitters ate away at your nerves and you weren’t sure if you’d ever come down from that rollercoaster of anxiety. You were sitting at the peak in a single-person cart waiting to be plummeted down the valley of the tracks leading you to the finale; the culmination of an enticing ride.

“Are you naked?”

“Somewhat.”

“Take it all off.”

Even in the stillness of darkness removing your bra and panties made you feel entirely vulnerable. You were technically alone but JK was right there just a couple of pixels away.

“Close your eyes, doll. I want you to begin touching yourself just wherever it feels good,” he instructed and you weren’t sure if it was your mind playing tricks on you but you could’ve sworn his voice became more bass, “start high and slowly make your way down to your breasts. When you’re there let me know.”

His words were tainted with sin meanwhile he still sat back nonchalantly. You'd imagined he was satisfied in the way your soft whimpers overtook the air as you began pinching your perked nipples but you couldn’t tell for sure not while he still wore his mask.

“I’m assuming you’ve made it.” he chuckled.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“You’re not very good at following instructions. Are you, doll?” he rolled up the sleeves of his crewneck, finally exposing the infamous tattoos he detailed in his description. They were like pieces of artwork adorning his entire arm, not a single spot was left visible—and as much as you tried to get a better look at them for some reason you found it impossible to focus on just one.

“Sorry,” you muttered once again, “I was caught up in the moment I guess.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he offered, “but I need you to be vocal since I can’t exactly see you.”

“I’ll be more vocal. I promise,” you said, still toying with your nipples in between your fingers, “right now my hands are still at my tits.”

“Are you bored of that yet, doll?” the onset of his tumultuous utter; it was thunderous, like music for the soul, “you wanna aim lower?”

“Yes.”

“With the tips of your fingers I want you to move down your cleavage,” he said, “and stop right at your pelvis.”

Quickly, it felt like the evening had rushed by and the sun had been relocated right beside your bed. Though you complied with his command any form of coherent words became jammed in your throat incapable of rolling off your tongue.

The way your fingers slid past your folds earned a string of whimpers from your lips earning a satisfied titter from JK on the other side of the screen.

“Nice and slow, doll,” JK said, “be gentle but I want you to apply a bit of pressure every time your fingers meet your clit.”

JK’s voice was no longer muffled from the laptop’s static microphone. Instead in this version of your altered reality he was laying right beside you on your bed, and his fingers substituted yours against your cunt. His touch contained something yours simply did not possess, composed of a sort of spell that left you babbling moans. And as his fingers traced whichever incoherence they wanted into your clit you felt closer to your pinnacle.

“Fuck,” he stuttered, “I love the way you say my name.”

The bubbling daringness dazed with pleasure drove you to chant his name over and over in between your pants and obscenities. “You have no idea the things I would do for you to fuck me right now,” It was your best attempt at trying to break past his professional shell — His head fell back against the wall as his adam’s apple bobbed up and up, his eyes were shut tightly and his hands fidgeted with something off frame.

“You have no idea how much I’d love to fuck you but this is a contactless doll,” his breathing became uneven, “I’m afraid we could never meet. You could never know who I am and I could never know who you are.”

“N-never say never,” the contract enforced by the site was clear and simple, both parties must grant their consent to the meeting online without disclosing their identities. For safety measures you understood the implications of the rules applied but what of it when you genuinely just wanted to meet the dulcet stranger and ride along him for the wildest time of your life.

“Just focus on the feeling,” his voice was rugged; raspy as a result of the groans he sang into the air, “Focus on that shiver taking your back hostage and that very knot tightening in your core. I want you to only let your thoughts be consumed by that very feeling.”

You sat up using your elbow for support, still thriving to maintain the mental image of having JK near in curated colors. Again, you were in the presence of the man dipping the mattress beside you as he laid down with eyes to scorching their umber tone surrounding you in warmth.

“Now, finger yourself.”

The squelching sound of your finger pushing past your entrance had JK sitting up straight like he was intrigued by your facile compliance but you thought it was obvious that by now there was very little you wouldn’t do as long as it came from him.

“I wish I could see you doll,” he confessed, “I bet you look heavenly with your fingers inside of you.”

“C-contactless r-remember,” The motion living up to your satisfaction was hastened —you became divulged in the feeling of your walls on your fingers. You felt soft, warm, tight. All of the sensations combined to create a feeling so addicting your fingers developed a mind of their own as you drove themselves in and out of you with ease.

“Right. .”

“Fuck, this f-feels,” you swallowed to ease the desert developing in the back of your throat, “it feels s-so fucking good.”

“If I were there,” he mumbled, barely audible but your ears still perked up at the lulls of his voice, “First, I would serenade every inch of your skin. Your body would be the portrait I’d paint with my lips.”

“Mhm. .”

“I would cherish your body so well. Eat you out until your legs shake and fuck you until you’re a candid mess.”

“O-oh, fuck! JK don’t stop.”

“I would fuck you so well, doll.”

“I-I’m so close,” your arm became numbed yet, you kept fucking yourself with your fingers still succumbing to the fantasy of having JK in replacement of your own hand.

The temperature in your room draws beads of sweat on your body and the more you strive to reach your high the more scorching the temperature becomes. The creaking of your bed accentuated the speed of your movements, it was like a song featuring your constant moans.

“Until you’re babbling nonsense, and your headboard is marking up the wall and the neighbors finally know my name.”

JK’s words were laced with a delectable nectar, so sweet, a once off taste wasn’t enough and as you pleaded for more and he complied, continuing to fill your ears with sinful promises you crashed hard. Coming in spurts of white coating your fingers.

“I have a surprise for you,” you panted in between almost every word, “you ready?”

He nodded.

Call it post orgasm tipsiness but after sitting up a bit and adjusting the laptop to leave anything that wasn’t your mouth out of frame you turned on your camera for the very first time that night, pushing your glistening fingers which once invaded your walls past your swollen lips.

His hands rose to his hair and he slithered his fingers through it lightly before gripping his roots into his fists looking a fair amount aroused and frustrated. The tattoos you desperately wanted a peek of were finally on full display. After turning off your camera once again and JK began uttering praises your way, you began scanning the ink on his arm from his forearm up slowly. The artwork adorned his skin beautifully.

As you neared his wrists you noticed a very similar serpentine snake—one who you have stared at too often.

“Typically, things here are a bit different,” you finally registered his voice, “you would turn on your camera and I would provide more detailed assistance but I hope you still had a good time. I did.”

“Yeah,” your mind was in outer space, “I had a really good time.”

“Don’t shy away from visiting me again, OK?”

“Yeah,” you said, “bye, JK.”

Once the camera was off and you shut your laptop tightly, coming to the realization.

JK was him.

The boy, your boy from the student center.

an: i was bored and im so sorry lol

reblogs, likes, comments, replies are always appreciated 🫶🏽

#bts #bts smut #bts imagines #bts reactions #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #very brief mention of tae #jungkook drabble

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astarionancuntnin · 2 months

Text

Undisclosed Desires (Chapter 2)

summary: its the day after you and astarion indulged in each other's embrace. it shouldve been a once done deal, nothing more, but that last night ended with you questioning your feelings for the pale elf. you struggle to come to terms with those and the day might prove more difficult as you get trapped alone with him in a secluded dungeon

or in short:

rating: E

word count: 4k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader, sorceress tav)

cw: 18+. smut, porn with little-to-no plot, karlach gets hurt for the sake of the porn (shes doing her part o7), denial of feelings, sexual tension through the roof, dom!tav/reader, teasing, dry humping, begging, ear licking, vampire bites, kinda praise kink, sorta breeding kink, your honor- theyre both brat switches fighting to top the other.

a/n: at long last, chapter 2! i had so much fun with the dialogues, i hope you enjoy them as much as i did uwu. also, inspo song at the beginning is the same as chapter 1, but a different part of the song, and end of chapter song is a different one (that i linked at the end). let me know how you feel about the dynamic in this chapter 👀

previous chapter

read on ao3

or keep reading down below ~

I shut my eyes

You call but I just cut the line

I know your style

I know that you want one more night

And I'm backsliding

Into this just one more time

You wake up this morning to the sound of your companions talking nearby. Instinctively, you reach for the spot next to you, only to find it empty. Figures. If it wasn’t for the aching pain in your muscles and the dizziness of your mind, you’d think what happened last night was just a dream.

The way Astarion had ravaged your body, how feral he was, the taste of him on your lips, how he felt between your legs…

Instinctively, you rub your thighs together, chasing the feeling from the previous night. You already feel that warmth between your legs as a result of those memories flooding back to you. You hear laughing outside your tent and it brings you back to the present moment ; your companions are probably waiting for you.

You quickly push aside any thoughts of him and reach for your clothes to get dressed up for the day. You take some time to prepare for what your companions have to say about the sounds that came from your tent last night. They had to have heard.

As you take your first step outside, Karlach is the first to greet you.

“Hey Soldier! Slept well? Doubt it was restful but it looks like you had the time of your life!” She nudges you.

“You can say that again! Those screams made me believe she was dying in there!” Shadowheart shouts, sitting near the campfire, before her and Karlach start laughing.

You feel yourself turn redder after each remark. Hells, I didn’t realize how loud I was.

“It did sound… intense. Are you sure you’re alright?” Wyll speaks up, more worried about you.

You lift your blushing face which was hiding in shame between your hands. “Oh, yeah no, I’m fine just- um,” you turn to Shadowheart, “Can I ask you to cast lesser restoration on me, please?”

She looks at you puzzled, “Can’t you cast it on yourself?”

“The only thing I wanna cast on myself at this very moment is eldritch blast, now, can you please cast the damn spell?”

“So much for the ‘great sorceress with limitless talents’,” she mocks you, reminding you of the very words you used back when you introduced yourself to her.

“SHADOW.”

“Fine, fine,” she scoots over the log, making space for you. “Come here, I’ll take care of you.”

You walk over to her and you sigh as you sit down, completely slouched over.

“Gods, he really did a number on you, huh,” she casts lesser restoration and you straighten up, instantly feeling much better.

“Yeah, you should see the other guy,” you say, smiling, proud to have gained back your wits.

“Speaking of,” Wyll interjects. “We haven’t seen him all morning. We fully expected him to come out of your tent.”

“Huh, I did wake up alone,” you confess. “I just assumed he went back to his tent.”

“Heh! Maybe he’s still in there recuperating from your night together!” Karlach shouts, before laughing some more.

“Alright, alright, I’ll go check up on him,” you roll your eyes as you get up to walk towards his tent.

You’re glad it’s placed far enough from the campfire to be out of your friend’s sights. You didn’t want to give them more ideas if they saw you with the vampire this morning. You call out his name before opening the flap of his tent, only to reveal it to be empty.

“Looking for something?”

You slightly jump, as if you were caught doing something you shouldn’t have, and quickly turn around to face him.

“Gods, you startled me.”

He walks towards you, shirtless, with his hair still damp from his morning bathing and his trousers hanging loosely around his hips.

“Terribly sorry dear, I would never do this to you intentionally.”

His little smile is unnerving. Your heartbeat quickens, and you frown at yourself; You can’t allow yourself to falter this early in the day. You take a deep breath, your way to gain back control over yourself.

“We’re almost ready to leave, so I came looking for you,” you try to look elsewhere but you’re mesmerized by his sight.

“Well, here I am now. Can I… help you with something?”

He raises his hand and strokes your cheek gently with the back of it, his face dangerously getting near yours. You feel your face burning hotter and it takes everything in you to push yourself away from him.

“We should really go, just– get dressed. I’ll uh, I’ll wait for you around the campfire with the others.”

You turn around completely flustered and walk back to your companions.

“Again?!” Karlach exclaims as she sees the state you’re in. “At this rate, you’ll turn redder than me!”

You wanna crawl into the depths of the hells and never come back up.

—

Today’s quest brings you to a secluded dungeon. Your findings from the previous days led you there in search for more information about an artifact you previously found throughout your adventure. If you’re correct, you should find here what’s missing for it to work. Now the only thing left to do is actually finding that missing piece.

With a swift flick of his wrist, Astarion opens the door to the lower grounds. As the door opens, you’re greeted by damp air and a musty smell. The place is dusty and covered in spiderwebs. Whatever you’re looking for must be here judging by the fact that no one has been down here in ages. You all walk in and notice that the place is a damned maze filled with countless rooms. You split up from the group, starting the search on your own, and the first room you walk in greets you with an absurdly obvious trap. You sigh, discouraged, as you fall back against the wall next to the entrance. Guess I won’t be able to avoid him much longer.

“Astarion? A hand?!” Your voice echoes through the hallways, followed by the sound of his footsteps.

He makes his way towards you nonchalantly, “You called, dear?”

“Can you take care of this?” You point towards the device.

He leans over you, his arms caging you between him and the wall, “I could, if you were to ask nicely.” His face hovers dangerously close to you, you can feel his cold breaths ghosting over your lips. It would be so easy to just tilt your head up and close the gap… No, you can’t let him win this. Last night was just a mutual agreement. An exchange of sorts. Nothing more, nothing less.

You cross your arms over your chest, creating some distance between the two of you, “Don’t push your luck.”

“Oh well, I assume you know how to deal with such an intricate mechanism then, if you’re so much better than I am?”, he wears his typical shit-eating grin.

You roll your eyes and step over your pride, “Fine. Can you please disarm this trap so we can carry on?”

“See? Now, was that so hard?” He gives you a playful look before getting to work.

You stand next to him as he fickles with the machinery when you hear a loud commotion from afar.

“FUCK!”

You recognize the voice from your fiery friend and waste no time running towards the source of her scream, only to find her in a terrible state with Shadowheart kneeling next to her. Her leg is barely recognizable. Whatever got her rendered her unable to fight from now on.

“What happened?!”

“Godsdamned trap got me, shit!” She keeps groaning in pain.

“Alright, Shadowheart, do you think you can take care of her wounds?”

“I can stabilize her, but she won’t be able to carry on with her injuries, we need to head back to camp as soon as possible so I can tend to her,” she explains.

“Okay, okay,” your eyes wander between your friends as you’re thinking of a solution. “Yeah, okay, you’re right, I’m not risking Karlach’s life on this,” the cleric nods in agreement, “But we can’t back track now. Who knows what else this trap triggered, it might’ve alarmed someone. We are so close to finding the answer, I can't risk letting it slip past us.”

Shadowheart raises as she’s about to argue but you cut her off, “Don’t worry, I still believe you two should head to the camp. Astarion and I will carry on.” You feel Shadowheart’s glare of disapproval. “I swear we’ll be careful and we’ll run back to you guys should we encounter a situation that's too much for us.” You try to reassure your friend.

“Oooooooo, keeping Fangs all to yourself?” Karlach never missed an opportunity to tease you, even when in insufferable pain. You could respect that.

“Oh please, if it were up to me, he would be the one in that trap.”

“Rude,” Astarion remarks from behind you. You can’t help the smirk creeping up on your face.

“Fine,” the half-elf frowns in resignation. “We’ll head back– but don’t do anything stupid.”

“We wouldn’t dream of it,” Astarion adds sarcastically, as the two walk away.

With half of your party gone, you lose no time continuing your research. You didn’t want to spend any more time than necessary with half the manpower in unknown territory. You pass a few halls and rooms, each containing an absurd amount of traps for what little they were hiding, slowly getting discouraged from your lack of findings, when you hear rumble afar.

You both still, listening to the sounds, when you realize they are making their way towards you.

“Hide!”, you barely whisper.

Before he can react, you roughly drag Astarion with you in the next open room and slam the door behind you. You acted faster than you could think ; the sound of the door was loud and the footsteps are now getting faster and louder. You try to remain calm to avoid drawing any more attention than necessary when you see the expression change on your companion’s face, followed by him yelling.

“What in the sweet hells is wrong with–!”

You don’t give him time to finish his sentence as you push him against the stone wall by his waist with the force of your whole body, while your other hand covers his mouth. You stare intensely into his eyes and mouth a “shh”, as silent as you can, to convey the urgency for him to shut up as the rumble of the footsteps get even closer to your location. He blinks rapidly and nods, understanding your motion, but brings his hand up to remove yours from his mouth. You hear the footsteps stop nearby and your heart pounding in your chest as your breathing stills. Your eyes dart towards the door, anxiety building up in your chest. Anything could be outside. You cannot risk getting into a fight you couldn’t handle. Against his own good, Astarion speaks up yet again.

“Let’s just kill–”

And you shut him up, again.

This time, with a kiss.

It’s a surprise to both of you. It was sudden, instinctive. You’re not sure what took over you, but at this moment, it seemed to be the best course of action. You stay motionless for a moment before pulling away, slowly. You hear the sounds outside your room getting further away and you finally breathe out in relief. He looks at you with an annoying smile painted over his face.

You notice him observing you. “You really need to learn when to shut up,” you say, a poor excuse to try and justify your actions, as a blush takes place over your cheeks.

His lidded eyes observe your lips before making eye contact again, “And you think you know better?”

“I know I do,” you frown slightly.

He keeps smiling, that damn annoyingly confident smile. “I’m afraid you’ll have to teach me, then. I’ve been known to be awfully loud.”

You scoff. The audacity of this man.

Initially, that first kiss was never supposed to lead to anything else. It was spontaneous, a means to an end, just like your last night spent together. Anything to stop him from talking, whatever would save you from being found. But you couldn’t deny the feelings that fluttered in your stomach, the butterflies in your chest.

He continues, his words dripping with sarcasm, “I’m sure a sorceress of your expertise must have some way to silence a noisy rogue like myself.”

You realize then : all along, you didn’t hate him, you hated the fact that you were attracted to him, to that damn attitude of his. Truth is, you couldn’t have enough of that banter between the two of you. Every morning, that was the thing you were looking forward to. There was no denying yourself anymore ; you chased the feeling of arguing with this overblown, pretentious asshole. You wanted him, in more ways than one, and in any way he would offer himself to you.

“I can think of a few tricks,” you lean over him the same way he did you earlier, your faces barely an inch apart.

“Try me,” his voice is barely a whisper by now.

You let your feelings guide your next move as you pull him in by the collar of his armor, crashing your lips against his. If he saw this as a game, you intended to win. As the kiss depends, you’re taken back to that scenario you played in your head the night before, prior to Astarion’s visit.

At the next corner, you would’ve pushed him by the waist against the nearest wall and shut his pretty mouth up.

Your kiss started out rough, but it quickly became passionate, it engulfed both of you into a world of your own. His hands roamed up your back and down your waist, pulling you in closer, reaching for more contact. Your sorcerer robe allowed for you to feel how tightly he grabbed you and yet, it didn’t feel like enough. You wished for nothing more than having your skin being ravished by his touch.

You would’ve taken the chance to let one of your hands roam through his silky smooth, curly hair, pulling it enough to get a moan out of him.

Oh, and how soft it was. Freshly washed from this morning, his curls felt like silk through your fingers. You let your hands linger in his hair, combing through it, before lightly pulling it back. He groans in your mouth as a response, not parting from your lips just yet, and you smile through it.

How you would’ve parted his legs with your own, and grinded against his crotch, feeling his growing bulge.

You easily push yourself between his legs and grind against him. He pulls back from your kiss then, gasping in surprise. With the threat outside the room being long gone, you welcomed any noise you would get out of him. You feel his cock getting harder against your leg and you keep rubbing him up and down, creating more pressure over his member. He rests his head on your shoulder, breathing hard, his hold on you getting tighter.

“Hells, darling, I didn’t think you had it in you,” he pants.

“Mmh, seems like I’ve got a lot more to teach you then.”

You reach for your trousers under your robe, letting them fall down after loosening your belt, before reaching for his, pulling them down just low enough to expose his cock which is already leaking with pre-come. He hisses when you grab a hold of him, your mere touch sending shivers down his spine.

You smirk at the visible reaction he has to you, feeling powerful over him. Such a contrast compared to your last night tryst. This time, you were guiding this dance.

You guide him towards your entrance, only to grind yourself over him. He slides so easily between your wet folds and you can’t help the moan escaping your lips. The friction over your clit is nothing short of euphoric. You swing your hips back and forth, coating his length with your arousal, as he holds onto your waist for dear life. You grab his face and pull him closer so your foreheads touch, then take a moment to admire the mess you’re making of him, and by the Gods, what a pretty mess he was. His parted lips, gasping between each stroke you would allow him, his eyes fluttering open, lost in the feeling of your thighs squeezing him, his roughed up curls from the sweat building up on his forehead.

He was beautiful.

You feel him moving on his own, trying to change positions so he has more control, but it's not something you will allow this time. You take his hands from your waist and push them against the wall he was leaning against, never stopping the rhythm you had going on.

“What do you think you're doing?” Your voice is coated with desire.

“Please, let me in,” he begs.

“Do you think you deserve it?”, you say, playfully.

“Gods, I– yes, yes I do!”, he whines.

“Beg more.”

“What?! I will not–”, before he can finish his sentence, you reach for his ear with your tongue and give it a lick from the base to the tip. “Mmmgh ah, fuck–”

“What was that?” You nibble on his ear.

“I– Ah–,” his entire resolve crumbles. “Please, love, I need you please,” he begs again, his voice faltering.

You continue to lick and nibble on his ear. “See? Now, was that so hard?” you tease, using his own words against him.

“Oh, you little– ah–!”

You cut him off as you raise your leg to hook it to his hips allowing you for a better angle as you push him inside you slowly. You’re so wet from teasing him that he slides in without any resistance.

You throw your head back, taking in the feeling of him filling you, and at the vision of your exposed neck, Astarion leans in the crook of your neck, bared fangs scratching the spot he previously fed from you. You feel his cold breath along with the wetness of his tongue, lapping at your healed wound. You sense what he wants to do and although you crave it and you would let him do it, you don’t wanna give in so easily.

You stop all motion and with him buried deep inside of you, your hand lingering in his hair grabs a handful of curls to pull him back, away from your prized neck, holding him in place.

He growls insistently, his true nature coming back to him.

“Give me one good reason,” you tug harder.

Through his ragged breath, he smiles playfully, “I just wanted a snack for the road.”

“You drank last night, you don’t need it,” your tone comes out raspy and aggressive despite your enjoyment of the situation.

“But you want this,” he pauses, watching your reaction. Your answer isn’t spoken, as much as it’s seen : your chest rises higher with each panting breath you take, your eyes flutter, drunk on lust, and your core is dripping wet, your combined fluids leaking against your leg. “Don't you?” He knows both of you know it's a fight for control.

You thrust roughly, once, to reassert your position over him, making him whimper. “And just what makes you think that?”

He locks eyes with you, a grin painting over his face. “You seemed to enjoy it last time.”

“Hardly.”

“My dear, you can deny it all you want, but I can read you like an open book.”

You hated how he always managed to have the last word. One day, you tell yourself, It’ll be me. But for now…

“Shut up and bite me.”

The second you let go of your grasp in his hair, Astarion dives in the nook of your neck, plunging his fangs in your pulsating vein. You cry out at the sharp sting you feel and once the initial pain settles in, you pick back up the rhythm you had earlier, making the elf groan as he drinks you in. He was right, his bites had the effect of an aphrodisiac on you. You would never tell him though, his ego was inflated enough as is, admitting it would only make him more insufferable than he already is.

His hold on you became tighter and the more he drank, the less your strength allowed you to keep your position, but the build up down your stomach only grew. You didn't want to falter so close to the end.

“Astarion…” you warn him.

He growls against your neck and takes one last sip of your liquid gold before removing his fangs from you, licking off the new wound he created to clean you up. That's something else you could appreciate from the vampire ; no matter how selfish you found him, he did seem to respect the boundaries you established. He would absolutely push all of your buttons but when it came to sex he seemed more attentive, responsive. You never wanted to fall for him, but your heart had other plans.

You cross your arms around his neck, closing any remaining distance between your two bodies and with all the energy left in you, you thrust harder, and faster, letting yourself get lost in the overwhelming feeling he provided between your legs. Now that you had experienced him once, you craved getting filled up by him, only him, as much as possible, as much as he wanted to. You wanted to be his.

“Darling, I’m close–”

“Come, let go for me,” you breathe in his ear before licking him again. “You’re so pretty when you come inside me.”

Your last words combined with the stimulation you’ve given him trigger his collapse in your arms. He grasps your hips vigorously, pulling you flush against him, allowing him to unload himself deep inside of your womb. You fall over the edge shortly after, drinking in the feeling of his semen filling you up. You fantasized constantly about being filled to the brim by him. Used over and over again, leaking from his seed, the act merely done to defile you in his image. You clench around his length, your legs shaking as you picture yourself overflowing with his come and ride out the wave of electrifying pleasure that courses through you.

As you come down from your high and let your leg down, you reach for something to grab a hold of so as to not completely fall over. Astarion had completely slouched over the wall you fucked him over, he was not an option. The nearest thing that seemed solid enough was an empty torch holder placed right next to the door which you grab without second thoughts. The last thing you expected was for it to pull down as you grabbed it. Even less that it opened a secret trap door in the middle of the room, from which a pillar came out of. You stay in place for a moment, piecing together what just happened, with Astarion making eye contact with you, just as puzzled as you were.

Before you now stands an altar with a very clearly placed piece of dark metal, shaped strangely like the pattern you remember being described in the previous document you found. You put your trousers back on, dismissing the mess between your legs, and grab the missing piece, connecting it to the artifact you held, to see it click in place.

“No fucking way.”

Astarion smirks, as if he was responsible for your discovery, proud of himself, “Wouldn’t have found that out with Karlach now, would you?”

He will never let you live this down.

When you're around me, I'm radioactive

My blood is burning, radioactive

I'm turning radioactive

My blood is radioactive

My heart is nuclear

Love is all that I fear

#my posts #my writing #bg3 #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #bg3 smut #bg3 fanfiction #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #baldur's gate 3 #astarion smut #self insert #bg3 fanfic #smut #Spotify #fic: undisclosed desires

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