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neoneun-au · 2 months

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CAN'T HELP MYSELF; CHAPTER III: WHO WAITS FOR LOVE?

―PAIRING: wonwoo x fem!reader, mingyu x fem!reader ―GENRE: love triangle au, fluff, mild angst, romantic comedy, suggestive, smut ―CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 11.2k ―CHAPTER WARNINGS: angst, mild language, alcohol consumption, masturbation (explicit female, implied/mentions of male), 18+ only ―STATUS: ongoing

―AUTHOR’S NOTE: i cant link them here, but please find the series masterlist and other chapters on my blog. i would love to know your thoughts on the story so far, this is really only fun with interaction and it helps keep me motivation to finish !

iii: who waits for love?

“You didn’t mention one of my roommates was basically a fucking model,” you complain, sinking into the absurdly massive grey sectional next to Jeonghan as he sits scrolling on his phone, attention removed from the drama providing background noise on the shared TV.

“Who? Mingyu?” He tosses his head back with a bark of a laugh at the suggestion, “he’s a model idiot.”

“Idiot or not you should have warned me he’d be so…so,” you toss your hands in the air, a dramatic display of frustration completed by the furrow in your brows. The image of Mingyu’s bare chest from your initial meeting (new and improved version 2.0 of hot roommate: now accompanied by a soundtrack of bed squeaks and the joy of someone else’s orgasm!) assaults your senses and you scrub it from your mind’s eye as best as you can before fixing your weary gaze back on Jeonghan, “so hot.”

“Oh please,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes as soon as the word falls from your lips. “Yeah he’s easy on the eyes, but once you get to know him his looks are much less impressive, trust me.” He shakes his head, raising his coffee to take a sip before pursing his lips and fixing you with a concerned stare, “I didn’t take you as the type to pine after tall, dark, and stupid. You’re not thinking of using him as a rebound are you?”

“What? Absolutely not,” the reply comes out perhaps more fervently than it should have because what was intended to deny the suggestion only serves to deepen the crease settling in between Jeonghan’s manicured eyebrows. You clear your throat and take a sip from the mug of tea growing cold in your hands as a cover.

“Rebound,” you scoff at the word, trying to play off the twisting feeling in your gut with derision but only managing to dig the knife in deeper. “Definitely not. I have no plans to start dating anytime soon. Not after this breakup.” You’re aware that you’ve begun to ramble but as per usual, your mouth runs away with your words. Try as you might, you cannot scramble to retrieve them as they spill forward like a damn breaking open. Jeonghan stares at you with a slight frown as you monologue, “I barely even want to look at men full-stop. Don’t get me wrong, I mean, you’re okay, we’re friends and all. And Seungcheol is fine I guess ‘cause he lifted all of my heavy shit up the stairs like some kind of bodybuilding angel sent from protein-heaven,” a stray strand of hair falls in front of your eyes and you blow it away with a short puff of breath.

“But dating? No. No, no, no,” you continue unabated, “absolutely not. I’m taking this time to get to know me. If anything, I’m dating myself. Mingyu might be hot but he won’t break my resolve, that’s for sure. I am determined,” you finish the speech with a single, firm nod–agreement with yourself clear and solid and in no way capable of breaking at the threat of warm brown puppy eyes flashed in your direction.

“Right,” Jeonghan drags out the word, unconvinced by your impassioned declaration of independence. “Well, if you get bored of dating yourself and do end up wanting someone to mess around with for a bit, I can hook you up with some people. Serious or…less serious. Your choice.”

“I will be just fine on my own, thank you.” You nod once. Firm. Decisive. Not at all embarrassed by the display.

“If you say so,” he sings, shaking his head and pushing himself off the couch before flicking the TV off. You sit in silence for a moment, sipping the last of your lukewarm tea, and listen as Jeonghan’ footsteps fade into the kitchen. The slight lingering guilt and shame from the night before stains your thoughts. A ring of liquid left on the surface of a coffee table, encircling the memory of Mingyu’s moaning and the keen sense of desire that burned a pit in your core at the sound.

Jeonghan returns from the kitchen a second later and sits down on the arm of the couch. He clears his throat to speak, more serious than you had seen since graduating university. “Listen, I’m not going to tell you how to live your life,” he begins. You inhale to laugh your disagreement of the statement but he holds up a single hand to silence you so you bite it back just as quickly. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I will just give you a warning, if I may” he lets his hand fall back down to his lap, “as your friend. And as someone who has your best interest at heart.”

“Fine,” you allow, buying into the sincerity, “I’m listening.”

“I said that I can hook you up with people both serious and not so serious,” he says, pausing to take a deep breath, “Mingyu is not serious.”

The image of the man in question pops up in your mind once more. An observable object–lips locked with the mystery brunette, hands roaming the expanse of her body as they flutter like a pair of dragonflies locked in a mating ritual towards his bedroom. The chorus of “ohs” and “ahs” that chorus in your ears like the audio from the old Italian softcore porn films you used to sneak out of bed to watch in your adolescence. The squeaking of the bed frame, and even the eventual abrupt departure first thing this morning, project themselves across the walls of your brain like a feel of film. All fleeting images and experiences serve as firsthand evidence backing up what Jeonghan is saying to you at this moment in the harsh light of day.

“If you’re in it for a quick, no strings attached hookup then, well,” he sighs, brushing his bangs out from in front of his eyes, “you’re a grown woman, I trust you can make your own decisions. But I’ve never seen Mingyu with the same girl more than once. So just…be careful. Because if you want something substantial, you would be barking up the wrong tree with him.”

You nod and the previous image of Mingyu–all roaming hands and bucking hips–dissolves pixel by pixel into the knitted brows of concern and the serious expression his classically handsome face held barely an hour ago. The warmth of his hand as it pressed ever so lightly against the skin of your forehead–an act so painfully tender and familiar it made you yearn at the intimacy of it. While your logical mind does believe what Jeonghan is saying, another part of you (a deeper and much more foolish part) can’t help but feel like there has to be more to Mingyu than the rest of them give him credit for. That maybe there is something to be taken seriously there.

The thought dissipates into vapour as Vernon strolls down the stairs–bleary eyed and dazed with the lingering sleep still clawing at the corners of his eyes. He nods lazily in silent greeting, clad in tie dye and baggy jeans, and walks past the pair of you and disappears into the kitchen.

“Just,” Jeonghan hesitates a moment, waiting for the sound of the fridge opening in the next room to disrupt the strained silence that had settled between you, “be careful, okay?”

“Don’t worry,” you smile, genuinely grateful for the advice and care from your long-time friend, despite the bells of disagreement ringing out inside of you. “I’ll be fine.”

“Do you think I need a rebound?” The question comes after an hour of banter and conversation over way too expensive cocktails in the dimly lit corner of the bar you used to frequent when you were still going to university with Seulgi. Her insistence that you get out of the apartment and stop stewing in your own thoughts had finally paid off and truthfully the distraction was not entirely unwelcome. But you were still stubbornly refusing to admit that she was right. The status quo of your friendship since the very beginning.

“Didn’t you say you were swearing off men or something?” Seulgi asks, tapping a manicured fingernail against the side of her nearly empty manhattan.

“That was before I saw the reality of the men I was swearing off,” you sigh, mourning the loss of your already weak resolve. Solemn regret for the poorly timed declamations you had given voice to in the past. “And the reality is that they're pretty fucking hot.”

“You mean one of them is pretty fucking hot, right?” she emphasizes, ever observant, and you grimace at her over the lip of your own half-empty glass.

“One of them looks like a Greek fucking God for no reason,” you grumble, turning to wave the waitress over for another round, “like Adonis or something. It’s not my fault I have functioning eyeballs.”

“Adonis wasn’t a god, he was the mortal lover of Aphrodite.”

“Well whatever he was, I’m now stuck living in an apartment with him.” The young waitress walks up with an expectant look and Seulgi orders another round of the same while you drain the last of your drink, savouring the bitterness of the gin as it lingers at the tip of your tongue. You watch the waitress as she walks back towards the bar, brunette ponytail swinging behind her like in rhythm with her steps, and wonder vaguely if maybe she’s the girl you saw Mingyu with.

Seulgi turns back to you with a slight roll of her eyes, “I’m sure it's not that bad. Just ignore him, you’re mostly working or asleep when you’re not just hanging around bugging me anyway.”

“Pretty hard to ignore him when he’s so openly hooking up with some random girl in a condo with 4 other people who can clearly hear him.”

“Well put some earphones in or something, listen to a podcast,” she laughs, shaking her head. You bite your tongue, reluctant to mention the fact that you had willingly listened in as they fucked. That maybe you had enjoyed it a little more than you were letting on. You didn’t need the inevitable teasing that was bound to come if you told her any of that. “Do you remember our one roommate? From second year?”

“Oh god,” you balk at the memory, “Johnny?”

“He was so loud,” she grimaces. So many late nights spent huddled together on her bed watching movies, joined in mutual avoidance of the self-proclaimed playboy and his rotating roster of girls. “And then you went and hooked up with him which was just the worst. He was so insufferable after that.”

“Hey, in my defense I was desperate and not exactly in my right mind,” you bristle at the thought of your pathetic, erstwhile crush. Surely, you had thought in the throes of your youth and naivety, someone who pulled that many girls knows exactly how to make them feel good. Yet by the end of it, as he lay open-mouthed snoring on the bare mattress next to you, you were left with a clear idea of why you never seemed to see the same girl more than once. “Anyway, from the sounds coming out of her, Mingyu seems to actually know what he’s doing in bed.”

“So you did listen,” she smirks.

“The walls are thin,” you let the paltry excuse fall from your lips as she tosses her head back in laughter. Gulping down a mouthful of water in a vain attempt to swallow some of the embarrassment boiling like hot lava in your bloodstream.

“What do you think they were doing?” Seulgi leans forward with a conspiratorial gaze–brown eyes full and bright and filled to the brim with a hint of evil. There have been a few moments throughout your years of friendship where she has fixed you with a look like this, and most of them led to some of the worst decisions either of you have ever made. Breaking into the community swimming pool after dark, stealing the neighbouring houses’ lawn ornaments, making out with dudes that may or may not have been married. Her desire for intrigue terrified and excited you in equal measure.

“Pretty sure they were fucking,” you respond and she sits back, disappointed at the bland reply.

“Yeah, I got that part. I mean details. If we’re gossiping, we should do it right.”

The cacophony of the bar consumes you. Chatter and laughter from nearby tables floods your senses, drowning out the roar of guilt that knocks at the door of your mind as you consider your next words carefully. Whether to completely dive off the deep end and betray your new roommates privacy (in more ways than you already have). If you had been a little more sober and a little less intrigued by the man in your own right, you might have shut the topic of conversation down before it even began. You might have left the apartment for the night and slept on a chair in the lobby and avoided the entire tryst to prevent the memory of his moans from carving themselves into your temporal lobe.

But you did not and now you are just as invested in the situation, and Seulgi’s complete lack of shame about asking for details further strangled any lingering guilt you had left. “Well,” you start and she leans in closer, eyes alight with anticipation, “they started in the hallway. I thought they were going to have sex right against the wall while I was trapped hiding behind the couch.”

She laughs, head tossed back in mirth, “bet you would have loved that. Mingyu, bare ass out in front of you,” she jeers and you bristle at the accusation (even if you know she’s right). The waitress returns with your drinks and you mumble a brief thank you to her as she sets the glasses down. Seulgi continues to laugh, pleased with your reaction, “it would have been your wet dream come true.”

“Okay, that’s it. I’m not saying anything else,” you grumble into your fresh drink, wincing at the bite of the liquor. Cocktails were never your thing but Seulgi had offered to pay so who were you to refuse.

“Aww,” she whines, “fine, fine, I’ll stop teasing you. Please give me the play by play. I am so curious.” She claps her hands together in mock prayer, pleading for your cooperation, and you think she might make an excellent lawyer or serial killer if she weren’t so normal most of the time.

“Fine,” you relent after a beat, already too wrapped up in reliving the night to abandon the story anyway. “Obviously,” you stress, “that didn’t happen. They were making out there for maybe like 5 minutes but it felt like hours. I was so worried she was going to see me but thankfully I managed to stay pretty low.”

Seulgi takes a sip of her darkly coloured drink, you can tell she wants to interject but she manages to hold true to her promise.

“So they stumble off to his room,” you continue with a sigh, “and I go to mine, which, mind you, is right next to his. We share a wall.” She winces and you give her a knowing nod, steeling yourself against the all too vivid memory. “I crawl into bed, trying to block out the noise for a while, which at this point isn’t too loud. It’s just like…some muffled talking and moaning and the occasional slap of like…skin on skin. Maybe he spanked her…” you trail off, shaking your head along with the words, fully invested in the theatrics of the storytelling now. “But, through some cruel twist of fate his bed, just like mine, is also right up against our shared wall. So as soon as they really get going, I can feel it.”

“What, like…” she thrusts in her seat, a quizzical slant to her eyebrows, “like shaking?”

“Yup,” you pop the ‘p’ for emphasis and she lets out a low whistle.

“For how long?”

“I don’t know,” you shake your head, “felt like forever. I was just clutching my sheets like it was an earthquake or something.” You do conveniently leave out the heat of desire and curling of toes, but she didn’t need to know that part.

“Did it start off slow?” she asks, voice conspiratorial. “Fast? Do you think he ate her out first?”

“Seulgi,” you hiss, keeping your voice low. You glance over at the table of college guys next to you but they don't appear to have been listening.

“What, I’m not allowed to ask?” She balks, hand on heart, and appears offended for a moment before the usual mischievousness settles back in and she leans forward with a glint. “Did Wonwoo ever eat you out?”

“We are not discussing the details of my sex life right now.”

“No of course not,” she rolls her eyes, “we’re just discussing the details of someone else’s.” You grumble at the inability to argue with this statement. “How long has it been since you got laid anyway?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh, dropping your head to the table and then regretting it immediately when you realise how sticky it is. “Like five months maybe?”

“Five? Didn’t you break up with Wonwoo like…” she fixes her eyes on the ceiling for a brief moment, calculating the time passed in her head before turning back to you with frown lines creased into her forehead, “six weeks ago?”

You shrug, sinking your embarrassment into another sip of alcohol, “so we hadn’t had sex in a while, so what?”

“Do you think maybe that was a contributing factor in your dissatisfaction with the relationship?” She leans back in her chair, crossing her arms.

“I don’t need a therapy session, Seulgi.”

“On the contrary, I think you would benefit greatly from therapy,” she laughs, “but that’s not what this is. You’ve just been sort of distant lately.” You open your mouth to protest but she stops you with a glance, “don’t start, I know we’ve been hanging out, but over the last few months you haven’t been as open about your emotions and stuff. You used to tell me everything, even things I didn’t want or need to hear, but for a while it feels like you’ve just been…hiding. Internalizing.” She leans forward and taps the center of your forehead with one, manicured finger. “Stop that. It’s not good for you to be in your head so much.”

“I hate to say it but, you’re right,” you sigh, begrudgingly agreeing with her observation. The skin where she had poked you tingling in the aftermath of her touch like a beacon of truth.

“I always am,” she nods, “but seriously. We’re friends. I want to hear how you’re feeling. I know I make fun of you a lot, but that’s just ‘cause you’re so easy to make fun of.”

“Hey!”

She laughs and you’re reminded of why she and Jeonghan always got along so well. “Seriously though,” she says, expression sobering, “maybe you wouldn’t fixate so much of your loneliness and desperation onto random guys if you got out of your head a bit more regularly. Just a thought.”

“It's not desperation, I just…” you trail off, unsure of where to begin. Unsure even of what your own internal landscape was trying to tell you. You wanted to confide in her, to be more open and transparent, but it was hard to do that when none of you couldn’t even sort out your thoughts and feelings from your anxieties and worries. It was hard to be clear when everything just felt like mud. She waits, expectant, as you sift through the much for some clear strand of thought. “You’re right, about the loneliness anyway, I know you are.” She nods, dark hair spilling over her shoulders. “But it’s not desperation.”

“So then what is it?” she asks and you try to place it. Try to tug on the thought to follow where it was leading you. What was it about Mingyu that made you feel like you were chasing something? Clawing at the walls of some well of yearning like a prisoner of your own desires. What was it about him that was making you want more? More information, more contact, more, more, more.

“I think,” you start, hesitant to speak the word lest it be wrong. “I think it’s curiosity.”

“About Mingyu?”

“Yeah, him. And about myself,” you shake your head. Ruminating on your spiraling thoughts was one thing, but vocalising them for someone who knew you oftentimes better than you knew yourself was another thing entirely. Your thoughts held more weight now that someone else was bearing witness to them. They had more consequences now than just 15 minutes of anxiety or a few hours of doom-scrolling.

“What about yourself?” she asks, unraveling the mess as you present it to her.

“I feel like…I’ve been in this strange place between needing people for everything and also trying my best to not need anyone at all. I can’t do my taxes without help, I can’t change a tire without help, I can’t even move apartments without it! But when it comes to emotions or vulnerability…I would rather just deal with it on my own, you know?” She nods, attention focused completely on you. Despite how long you’ve been friends, the direct attention still flickers a switch of shyness inside of you.

“That’s what it was like with Wonwoo, too. He was never the most emotionally available person and I think I just got used to dealing with things on my own because of it. I didn’t want to burden him with my thoughts or feelings cause I know I have a lot of them. Don’t get me wrong, though, it wasn’t like he refused to listen or anything I just…he just wasn’t really open with his own feelings or thoughts so I sort of started to feel guilty about dominating those conversations all the time with mine. Like I was using him as some sort of emotional punching bag. And then I just got used to it, and it took so long for me to realise that I needed something more than that…”

Any hesitation you had felt before dissipates as you talk, little by little. You feel like you’re back in your dorm room together, laying on your floor and just letting yourself pour out every thought, every feeling, every worry you had. Stream of consciousness–your lips to Seulgi’s ears. That open vulnerability you shared before life and work and everything else got in the way and left the door open for inhibition, shame, and guilt to move into the space between.

You feel lighter as you speak, like you had been needing this–craving it. Waiting for her invitation to come to let loose the torrential downpour of your mind to a willing listener. To a friend.

She was right. She always was.

“So what is it about this Mingyu guy, then? You don’t think he would just be the same?” She asks, shifting the focus, and you purse your lips in concentration.

“I’m not sure…” you trail off. And you really weren’t sure. Was he just an idle fascination after all? Did you just find him hot and that smoke screen of good looks was blinding you to the fact that he was just some guy like everyone before him? Or was there actually something there, in spite of it all? You mull it over while Seulgi takes a leisurely sip of her drink. “I was talking to Jeonghan the other day, and he said something that sort of made me think–”

“That’s a surprise,” she laughs, unable to resist the opportunity for a jab at your mutual friend.

“He said ‘Mingyu is not serious’ and I don’t know,” you continue, unabated by her comment, “I get this feeling that that’s not the full truth.”

“What, like psychic intuition?” she laughs and you shake your head.

“No, no…well, maybe. I don’t know. Obviously I don’t know the guy very well yet, and I have seen him do exactly what Jeonghan was warning me he does but…” you sigh, trying to collect your scattered thoughts of the man that is currently plaguing your mind. “He has also been very thoughtful, and he seems to notice such small details that the others don’t. I don’t know…I just think there might be something more to him than that, you know?”

“And you think you’re going to be the one to discover that side of him?” she asks, eyebrow quirked. Astute as ever.

“No,” you start, but catch yourself in the lie immediately. “Well, yeah, I guess. I just want to see if my hunch is correct.”

She fixes you with a withering gaze, dark brown eyes boring into your own for a moment before she laughs again, “Oh I get it now, you want to fix him.”

“I can’t help it, I love a project,” you sigh, resting your cheek in your palm and tracing idle circles against the wood grain of the table top.

“So take up crocheting or something! Stop throwing yourself at every man who looks like a kicked puppy.” You groan at the accusation but can’t deny the truth in it. You did have a track record. “Look, if you want to do this. Really want to crack that big beefy chest open and see what’s inside, I’m not going to stop you, but I’m warning you now that I do not think this is going to end well.”

“You sound like Jeonghan,” you mumble, eyes closed as you listen to the lecture.

“Good, at least someone you live with has some brains.” She shakes her head, pausing to hand her card to the waitress as she walks over with the bill for the evening. Silence stretches out for a moment, the din of the bar enclosing in to envelop you in its swell as you wait for the transaction to finish. The waitress returns and Seulgi slips her card back into her wallet before turning back to you, “I’m not saying this to be mean, but I really think you should take some time to be with yourself before you end up repeating the same mistakes you made with Wonwoo.”

“Harsh,” you mutter, feeling the sting of it spear through your heart and settle there. Slow poison.

She softens, eyes warming as she slides off her chair. You follow suit and walk with her out into the chill of the night. The bitterness of winter was starting to seep slowly into the air, you can feel it biting at your skin as you step outside with her to wait for the Uber she ordered to pull up.

“I love you and I want what’s best for you, and if you think that there might be something there with this Mingyu guy then I hope you’re right, I really do,” she says, a smile softening her expression. “I just want you to be careful, ok?”

“Okay,” you sigh, hugging your arms tight against your chest to fight off the wind as it blisters through your thin jacket. “I love you, too. And I will be careful, I promise. I’m not really too keen to repeat my last relationship either…”

“Good,” she nods, eyes roaming to the curb as a slick black sedan pulls up. “I’ll see you soon. Try not to throw yourself too big of a pity party before then.” She waves goodbye as she strides towards the car. You roll your eyes, returning the wave, before starting your brisk walk the few blocks back to the condo.

Time passes slowly in the new stasis of your life. You take the new opportunity in the wake of your hangout to bury yourself in work and get through some projects that had been building up untouched while you were feeling sorry for yourself. You kept up with regular jogs with Seungcheol, largely at his behest, and they were starting to become an enjoyable break in your days. A way to clear your mind and focus your attention on your body. It also did not escape your notice that the route he was taking you on now steered clear of the street where you had seen Wonwoo a few weeks ago. You use your commitment to the new routine as a silent thank you to him for somehow knowing what you needed when you needed it.

Vernon was becoming a favourite of yours as well. A quiet denizen of the condo; he showed up at random hours, taking a seat near you but not too close, reading through scripts or scrolling on his phone in companionable silence as you worked. It was like living with a cat that took care of itself and had an impressive collection of beanies.

Mingyu you tried to avoid, for the most part. He still plagued your thoughts on a daily basis, but out of respect for your friends’ concerns you wanted to give this budding infatuation time to settle into shape. To give yourself time to try and figure out what your real feelings on the matter were. You tried to find a delicate balance between roommate and acquaintance, figuring out his general schedule and adjusting your own accordingly so that you weren’t caught in any more awkward situations in the middle of the night or without anyone else around.

All of these measures were helping to make you feel more at home in the condo. Less like an interloper disrupting their days and more like a part of the makeshift family–even if that part for now was cousin, twice-removed.

As a result you were spending less time doing your work from the cafe and much more of it huddled over your laptop on the coffee table in the living room. Projects were getting done quicker, though it did mean that you were seeing Seulgi less often.

“Why aren’t you answering my texts?” Seulgi’s face blinks to life on the screen of your phone as you finally accept her FaceTime call. “Are you still moping?”

“I’m not moping!” you defend, raising the phone to hide the view of the pajamas you’ve been wearing for the past 24 hours as you were locked in a death-match with an upcoming deadline.

“Well how many more projects do you have left to do before we can go out? It’s been two weeks since I saw you now that you’re actually working from home,” she sighs in exasperation. Judging by the smoked out black liner defining her eyes, she was heading out tonight with or without you anyway. “Yerim is in town and she’s been asking about you.”

“Yerim? Wait, since when? I thought she was still in England?” you straighten up at the mention of your distant friend’s name.

“She’s back for now to get some visa renewal stuff done,” Seulgi answers, “and we’re going out tonight so you should come if you’re not still buried under a mountain of work.”

You glance at the screen of your laptop, folders stacked on your desktop in a messy landscape of the digital mountain you created for yourself. The thought was tempting but you knew Yerim and you knew what a night out with her always entailed. Read: getting black out drunk in a club and stumbling home at 6:00am the next morning. You had made a lot of progress scaling your workload, but you weren't sure that even without work you would have the energy needed for a night out like that.

The front door clicks open behind you and you spin your head to spout a quick greeting. Mingyu nods a quick hello, arms loaded with bags of groceries, before disappearing into the kitchen.

“Who was that?” Seulgi asks, noting the interruption in your conversation.

“Mingyu,” you answer, mindlessly pushing yourself off the ground and bringing her with you as you walk into the kitchen behind him in search of a glass of water. He smiles at you as you enter but says nothing as Seulgi’s voice rings out through your phone.

“Ah,” she smirks, “the one with the nipples?” You roll your eyes at the clear attempt to embarrass you but nod—pointedly ignoring the man in question as he sputters next to you at the comment. You fill a glass with water from the filtered jug in the fridge. “So are you coming tonight or should I tell Yerim you’re too depressed?”

You give it a moment of thought. You haven’t seen Yerim since she moved to the UK in the middle of her third year of university, after the rest of you had already graduated. She sent some odd gifts here and there—chocolate, snacks, a figurine of Shakespeare wearing heart print boxers—but communication had dwindled as you all found your footing in your adult lives, far removed from the heady days of hedonistic college life.

“Well first of all, don’t tell her I’m depressed, ‘cause I’m not,” you emphasise and Seulgi laughs at the bitter defense, “but I don’t think I can make it tonight. We should make plans for dinner or something before she leaves, though. Something a little more lowkey than the club.”

“Fine, be boring,” she sighs. “By the way, Yerim brought a friend back with her. He’s apparently cute and not completely useless. She thought you might like to meet him, just as a distraction. Or a rebound that’s not going to jeopardize your living situation. He’s also coming tonight”

You groan, settling down in a kitchen chair—opposite to the one Mingyu had sat down in with his reheated leftovers. He watches you with mild interest out of the corner of his eye while you try to think of a way to convince Seulgi that you don’t need Yerim’s charity date. “I would, but I already have plans tonight,” you lie, hoping she buys it without question.

“Oh?” she asks, eyes narrowed in cautious suspicion. “Do you have other friends?”

“Very funny,” you roll your eyes, “but no, actually. It’s just with my roommate.”

“Which one?” she probes, digging you deeper into the grave of your own lie.

“Oh uh–” you stutter but your eyes flicker above the screen of your phone, locking in on Mingyu’s own wide brown gaze. “Mingyu. We’re going to dinner tonight.”

He opens his mouth to speak, clearly confused by being dragged into your mess, but you shake your head lightly—willing him to just roll with it. He clamps his mouth shut and returns to his bowl of stew.

“Mingyu?” Her surprise is genuine and you can tell she’s starting to believe you. A flicker of concern shines in her eyes. “Is it like…a date?”

“No, Seulgi,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose between your thumb and forefinger. She was edging dangerously close to that ‘jeopardizing your living situation’ territory on her own. “It’s just dinner. With a roommate.”

“Okay,” she drawls, “but if you end up against a wall with his face between your thighs—”

“Goodbye, Seulgi,” you end the call with a panicked stab of your finger and lean back in your chair, eyes shut tight against the rising tide of anxiety. You feel lightheaded. Hopefully Mingyu didn’t catch that last part.

“Did we—” He clears his throat. His voice, hesitant and low, floating in and dispeling your faint hope that he hadn’t been paying attention. “Did we have plans I forgot about?”

You want to laugh, he sounds so genuinely worried. It forces a bitter bubble of bile to rise up into your throat. “No,” you shake your head, clearing it with a sip of water. “Don’t worry you don’t have to go out to dinner with me, I just really didn’t want to go out tonight. Yerim is sort of wild sometimes and the thought of meeting some stuffy English guy in a club was making me feel ill.”

“Oh,” he smiles—also hesitant, but you can see a hint of his canines poking out behind his lips. “Well, glad I could be of service, then.” His smile widens and you can’t help but return it with one of your own.

“You have been most helpful,” you laugh. “Sorry for using you as a scapegoat. Also sorry about the nipples thing, Seulgi has a selective memory.”

“I don’t mind,” he shakes his head, the flush of warmth in his skin betrays the hint of embarrassment he’s trying to mask. You smile at the grace he’s giving you in what could have been an exceptionally awkward moment (especially after weeks of avoiding being alone with him) and push your chair back–wooden legs sliding against the tile. You stand up, preparing to turn around and hunker back down in front of your laptop screen, but Mingyu calls out your name before you get the chance.

“Yeah?” you reply, half-turned towards the living room.

“If you do,” he pauses, clearing his throat. “If you do want to go out to dinner tonight though…I could do that. I would uh…I’d like that.”

Your eyes trail from his still slightly pink face to his nearly empty bowl of leftovers. “But you already ate?”

“Yeah,” he laughs, hand rubbing the back of his neck. A gesture so familiar to you from spending so much time with Wonwoo, but it looks different on him. Less like an anxious tick and more like a bashful habit. “I can eat again though,” he drops his hand from his neck and pats his stomach twice, “I’m a bottomless pit.”

You should say no. You know you should say no. You shouldn’t dig yourself any deeper into this hole than you already have. But looking at him now, eyes so wide and genuine—freely offering you this tether of kindness—you can’t seem to bring yourself to summon up the word.

“Okay,” you reply, deadpan. Numbed with the confusion and surprise of this sudden change of plans so easily agreed to. So easily ruining weeks of careful avoidance and the cooling off of the one-sided tension you felt when you were near him.

“Great,” he grins, white teeth glistening in the bright lights of the kitchen. “I need to grab a shower first and make a quick call, but how about we head out in an hour? What kind of food are you in the mood for? Do you have any favourite spots?”

“I uh—” you stammer, unsure of the answer to the posed question. “I’m fine with anything. I don’t go out for dinner a lot so I don’t really know that many restaurants…”

“No problem,” he smiles again, standing up and grabbing his bowl. “I know plenty, I’ll bring you to a good one. Promise.” He winks before turning around to rinse out his dish and your heart skips a beat at the expression. One you would so often find lecherous and off-putting seems somehow so endearing coming from him. You scold your brain for the thought before stalking back to your room to change out of your pajamas and attempt to appear somewhat presentable.

The lights of the city cast their soft glow over the water of the slow moving river. A hypnotizing dance of yellow and gold against the backdrop of the night sky. It lulls your thoughts–quietens them to a dull roar–as you sit next to Mingyu on a park bench.

You had finished dinner a half hour ago; a mouthwatering feast of flavour grilled by the deft hands of your roommate himself. You watched as he took to the task with an almost reverent disposition—ushering the food through the cycle of cooking as you sat across from him, absorbed in the aroma and savouring each morsel he placed in front of you.

You had worried that he was going to take you to some uptight, fine dining restaurant where each dish was somehow the size of your pinky finger while costing more than you made in a day (Mingyu did have a vibe of luxury about him); but when he opened the door to the small, hole-in-the-wall barbeque joint in a random side-street you felt the tension in your shoulders ease and you were finally able to let yourself relax.

He ordered–a generous selection of high-quality but reasonably priced beef–and you sat and ate and talked. It was normal and nice and the old wood-planked walls of the restaurant leant the entire dinner an air of casualness that your anxiety-addled brain desperately needed. Just a nice normal dinner with a roommate who you did not have any romantic attraction to at all.

Conversation continued after dinner ended. He was easy to talk to, easy to listen to, and you lost yourself in it, completely forgetting about your previous plan to avoid him, as he paid the bill. You continued to talk as you left the restaurant, stepped back out onto the street, and as you continued to walk together until you saw the Han River stretching out in front of you.

You hadn’t been paying attention as you walked–just let your feet move under the vague assumption that you were just heading back home–so reaching the river had come as a surprise. Mingyu’s face remained impassive as he led you past the numerous couples dotting the riverbank, each splayed out on grass and blankets, bathed in the soft amber glow of the city. You followed him for a few hundred feet until he stopped at a small hill and sat down on a bench, draping his arm casually over the back as he leaned against the sun-faded wood.

You hesitate a minute before sitting down. The mirage of purely platonic companionship had dissipated step by step as you followed him downstream, watching the way his jacket moved against his torso–loosely fitted but structured enough to hint at the firmness of his shoulders underneath, swelling as his arms swung idly at his sides. Your mind blaring a fire red warning in Jeonghan’s voice: be careful. Mingyu notices you hesitate and offers a warm smile, just touching at the corners of his eyes. He moves over an inch on the bench to give you more space and your heart takes that moment to consider itself some sort of acrobat in your chest. You silence the warning, washing it out with your own self-soothing lies, before taking a seat next to him and focusing on the night skyline.

Living in the city always felt isolating. Like the loneliness of existence was only amplified by the millions of other lives that played out parallel to your own. Millions of other people with different thoughts, feelings, and experiences existing right next to yours–there, but never touching. Lines crossing and converging but rarely intertwining for longer than a heartbeat.

Wonwoo had been an anchor in that sea of loneliness. Something solid to hold onto as you were buffeted by the waves of life. Stabile, grounding. You never realised how much you needed that stability until it was no longer there. Until you were cast adrift once more, alone in the deep blue.

Seulgi was there of course–as well as your other friends and family–but it wasn’t the same. They were islands of reprieve to visit when needed, and to offer the same when they did, but it wasn’t the same as having that one person to tether yourself to. To merge your life with and create a new island on solid foundations. Unshakeable, until it’s not.

Maybe you were pathetic, relying on a partner for so much support. Needing someone to rescue you from your own life. Maybe you needed to save yourself for once.

“Do you ever get the feeling like you’re going to end up dying alone?” you ask the question, half expecting it to dissolve into the air in front of you and go completely unanswered. Unsure if you even want an answer or if you just needed to remove the thought from your mind.

Mingyu scoffs, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he glances at you sideways–evaluating. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem for you.”

“Oh?” you raise an eyebrow, a twinge of offense scurrying up at the comment. “And what makes you so sure of that?”

“Well, what makes you think you would?” he counters and you let a small laugh slip out at the seriousness of his expression.

“I don’t know,” you shake your head, dismissing the thought and turning your attention back towards the view. Bitterly regretting altering the mood so seriously. You should have remained flippant, joyous. Unserious. But when did your mouth ever listen to you? “I was just thinking out loud.”

“Oh no you don’t,” he laughs, “you brought it up and now you’re avoiding the question?” You feel the heat of his body warm the air around you as he adjusts on the bench, angling away from the river to better face you and pry the answers free under the weight of his attention.

“You avoided mine!” you bite back in defense, turning in kind to face him, but realising the trap too late as he flashes you a wolfish grin.

“Ah-ha, so it was a serious question!” he cries, pleased with himself. “Listen if you want my honest answer, I will give it to you but I want an answer in return as well.”

You hesitate, not for the first time tonight—wavering at the edge of the offer and cursing your propensity for sticking your foot straight into your mouth at the drop of a hat.

Do you really want to open up to him like this?

It had been such a nice evening. Good food, good conversation, and a nice walk along the river. It had been a while since you had felt so at ease in someone's company. And yet, despite all of that, you had to go and get lost in your self-sabotaging, meandering thoughts and open your big dumb mouth. Did Mingyu even really want to know? He seemed friendly and open enough but you can’t help but hear Jeonghan’s voice as it bounces off the walls of your mind: ‘Mingyu is not serious’. Did he know what Pandora’s Box he was willingly opening by asking you? Did he care?

You fix your gaze on him, evaluating, searching his eyes for any sign of ambivalence or even trickery. He stares back, waiting patiently for you to mull it over, and you come up with no discernable ulterior motive. Nothing lurking in the clear brown of his eyes other than open curiosity and a slight glimmer of amusement.

“Ugh, fine,” you relent, falling back against the bench with a huff. You forgot Mingyu’s arm is resting against the back and you feel the pressure of it against you as you settle deeper into the bench. “Why do I think I’m going to die alone…” you repose the question, willfully ignoring the shiver that ripples out from the spot where his arm is pressed against you. You can feel the warmth of it even through your jacket. “Maybe because I’m a bit of an anxious wreck and that can’t be easy to deal with. Or maybe because I’ve managed to fuck up every relationship I’ve ever been in.”

“I don’t think so,” Mingyu replies, assured in his denial of your reasoning.

You let out a mirthless laugh and glare into the middle distance. “Don’t think so? Don’t think what? That I’m not an anxious wreck? You clearly don’t know me that well.”

“No, I believe that part, though anxiety can be treated to a certain extent. I have this psychologist friend, Minghao, he talks a lot about it. I could get you his number if you want.” he offers and you furrow your brow at the suggestion.

“You want to set me up with a psychologist?”

He laughs, “not like a date. Like if you wanted to book an appointment to see him about it. You know, like a therapist?”

“Oh,” you mumble, immediately feeling stupid. “So what did you mean then?”

“Just that it takes two to fuck up a relationship most of the time. You can’t fuck up something that wasn’t ready to be fucked up, you know? No one is perfect, we all have issues so no relationship is ever perfect and that’s not the fault of just one person.”

“Wow,” you exhale. His words sink in, a stark contrast against the internal monologue of shame and blame you had callously constructed. A differing perspective roaring in to shake your foundations. You try to reckon with it, the thought that it might not be all your fault, and it clamours and clangs against your brain in the worst way. In a way that you know it might be true but you’re not ready to accept it yet.

“Did I say something wrong?” Mingyu asks, momentarily rendered insecure by your plunge into melancholic silence.

“No, no,” you assure him, distantly amused by his immediate assumption that it might have been him that did something wrong. “It’s just…” you hesitate, unsure of how to word it. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so insightful.”

He snorts out a laugh, “thanks, I guess. I have my moments.”

“No, no, I don’t mean that I think you’re like…incapable of insight, just…” you pause, trying to reformulate the thought in a way that doesn’t sound like an insult. “I’m just not used to getting reality checks like that from people I don’t really know that well.”

“Oh, okay,” he laughs again, in relief this time, and you feel the edge of tension you had been holding in your body ebb away. “Well, I mean it though,” he affirms, “I don’t think it means you’re going to die alone.”

“Okay, well,” you sigh, unsure where to follow this new proffered perspective, “thanks, I guess.”

“No problem,” he grins. “Your turn.”

“My turn?” You knit your brows in confusion, eliciting another laugh from your seatmate. “For what?”

“You answered my question, so it’s your turn to ask one,” he explains.

“I didn’t realise we were playing 20 questions,” you tease. The words leave your lips with a little more edge than you had intended and you wince. Why did you always sound so defensive? You glance at Mingyu and feel a slight sense of relief at the fact that he seemed not to have noticed the tone.

“Well, if you don’t have any questions, I’m fine with being the hot, mysterious one in the house,” he winks and again you find yourself not hating how he looks when he does it.

Still, you snort derisively in response. If only he knew how deeply not-mysterious he already was to you. “Hardly,” you reply. “Okay, fine. I have a question for you: why does The Notebook make you cry so much?”

Wide-eyed surprise ripples across his face, a tinge of red embarrassment colouring the tips of his ears, “who told you that?” he asks in a nervous half-whisper.

“Jeonghan might have mentioned it when I was moving in…”

“Traitor,” he seethes, running a hand through his hair as he considers this revelation before answering you. “It’s sad,” he states plainly after a moment’s hesitation and you ‘tsk’, refusing the easy answer.

“Lots of movies are sad, Mingyu. Why does this one in particular make you cry so much that I was warned never to watch it in the living room?”

He sighs again, heaves his chest in and out like an exasperated dog settling down for bed. You watch as he stares out over the river, wide brown eyes shimmering with the lights of the city, and wait for him to respond. You had never seen Wonwoo cry during a movie. You had barely seen Wonwoo cry at all. He kept his emotions held tight, whether for self-protection or because he really was just that steady you didn’t know, but Mingyu’s upfront expressiveness was a breath of fresh air. Seeing someone so open at every moment with how they were feeling made you feel a little bit less alone with your own rapid shifts in mood. Maybe you weren’t the broken one.

“Fine,” he relents, “honestly, I know it’s corny. I know it’s a corny movie and it’s lame and dumb that an adult man with a job still bawls like a baby while watching it but I can’t help it. Seeing those two old people dying in bed together after reliving the tale of their love just gets me every single time. It’s a confusing mixture of sadness and hope and I have never been able to get through it without weeping.”

“Wow,” you remark and he shakes his head.

“Happy?” he huffs, again with an air of a disgruntled dog and you laugh.

“Very happy, thank you for sharing.”

“Okay my turn,” he grins, leaning back against the bench once more, the wood groaning slightly under his weight as it shifts.

“Good luck, movies don’t make me cry often.”

“Well you’ve gotta have some embarrassing secret. Otherwise we’re on uneven ground, and I don’t like that.”

“I’ve already told you something embarrassing,” you start to defend yourself but he shakes his head. Resolute.

“What? About thinking you fuck everything up?” You nod and he laughs, “that’s not embarrassing, that’s normal. Everyone thinks they’re more fucked up than they are.” He shrugs and you again marvel at how casually he accepts the very thing that feels so earth-shaking to you. “Tell me your most embarrassing secret.”

“That’s not a question, it’s a demand.” you point out and he nods, considering the rebuttal.

“Too broad? Okay, then what’s your favourite song?”

“How is that supposed to be embarrassing?” you ask, aghast.

“It’s not, I’m just curious. Not every question needs to be so heavy, you can get to know people through simpler things. Happy things,” he smiles again, coy, and your heart betrays you again with a flutter of wings against your chest.

“I’m not sure,” you muse. He starts to protest but you cut him off before he can begin, “there are too many songs that I love to feel like I can narrow it down to just one all–time favourite. Too many things to consider.”

“Like what?”

“Like, what am I doing when I am listening to it? Is it a song I could listen to anytime, anywhere? Does that make it a favourite or just an easy listen? Is it a song that fills me with a swell of emotions? A favourite from high school that still makes me nostalgic? Or a recent song that I’ve played on repeat too many times to count? You see…too many things to consider.”

“Wow, you’re right,” he laughs again, “you really are an overthinker.”

“Gee, thanks,” you scoff, rolling your eyes.

“How about you just make me a playlist with all of the above and we’ll consider it answered?” he winks and you blink back at him, stunned to silence. Wonwoo never really got through the songs you would recommend to him, was Mingyu really going to go to the trouble of listening to an entire playlist? For his roommate?

“Oh–okay,” you answer, unsure of what else to say.

Silence descends for a moment, settling comfortably between you, and you glance around in surprise to find that most of the people that had been here when you arrived have since departed. How long had you been sitting on this bench talking?

As if reading your thoughts, Mingyu clears his throat. “It’s getting late,” he feigns a yawn, forearm flexing as he brings his hand up to cover his mouth, “but you have one more question to even it up before we start walking back home.”

You sit still, contemplating. While teasing him had been fun, an overwhelming part of you wants to really get to know him. To know what makes him tick. What thoughts and desires lurk in the depths of those puppy brown eyes. To find out exactly what it was about him that was drawing you in so much despite your (and Seulgi’s and Jeonghan’s) better judgement.

“What did you want to be when you were a kid?” you ask finally. It feels like a silly question as soon as you ask it but you can’t take it back once it’s been spoken. And you do actually want to know the answer.

“Is that your final question?” he asks and you hesitate but nod. You’re curious about what kind of kid he was. What his dreams had been before the demands of adulthood had set in. “Alright, but it’s silly,” he warns and you wait silently for his response despite it, “I wanted to own my own bakery.”

“You wanted to own a bakery?” you parrot the response, surprised by his answer. “Really?”

“I told you it was silly,” he smiles, voice a slight quiver. You hadn’t expected the answer, true, but it’s the nervousness around it that is really taking you by surprise. Like it’s kid Mingyu answering the question and not the 20-something year old adult you had bought you dinner.

“No, no, it’s not silly, I just didn’t expect it,” you reassure him and the expression of embarrassment on his face melts back into neutrality. The wave of nerves slipping away into the ether. “Why didn’t you do it?”

He shrugs, “my parents didn’t think it was a suitable career path for someone like me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You bristle, feeling defensive on behalf of the kid he once was.

“I never asked for clarification,” he laughs. “Just went to school for business like they suggested. Jokes on them, though, I can still make a mean sourdough.”

“What can’t you do?” you mumble, intending the comment to be unheard but clearly failing as Mingyu throws his head back with a laugh before getting to his feet.

“Well, what about you?” he asks as you join him and you both head back down the path towards the main road. “What was your childhood dream?”

“I always wanted to be an artist,” you say, “and I sort of am doing that now just in a more corporate-friendly way. Career was the one aspect of life that I always felt I had a handle on. There was no guesswork. It was just me involved.”

“Your parents didn’t have any different thoughts as to what they wanted you to do?” he asks, a slight note of surprise colouring his voice.

“Not really, no,” you shrug, “they were pretty supportive, honestly. I think the only things they really cared about was that I got an education and was able to pay for rent and food.”

“That’s lucky, it’s nice to have such supportive parents.”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” you nod. It had never been something you had actively thought about, just taken for granted and assumed it was sort of the same for everyone. You make a mental note to call your parents soon and catch up as you and Mingyu leave the park and the river disappears behind you.

“Would you ever bake something for me?” you ask, matching Mingyu’s stride as you take a turn down the block towards home.

“That depends,” he replies, amusement clear in his voice.

“On what?”

“On whether or not you want to hang out again in the future,” he shrugs, feigning nonchalance. You see a hint of blush reddening the tips of his ears again and it makes you wonder. Was it just the slight chill in the air causing it?

“Well, we do live together so I think that’s almost inevitable,” you laugh, trying to brush the niggling feeling off with an assurance that you did not feel.

“True,” he concedes, “then I guess I will. Are you more of a sweet or savory person?”

“That depends,” you reply, a small grin turning up the corners of your lips.

“Overthinking pastries now too?”

“No,” you laugh, all lingering feelings of defensiveness gone from you. “It depends on what you’re better at making.”

“Oh, I’m good at it all,” he replies, voice smooth–silk slipping over mahogany–as he holds open the door to the condo complex for you. You glance at him, eyes meeting his in the dim light of the lobby, and study him for a moment. He’s smiling, cool and casual, but there’s a seriousness hiding in the depths of his expression that you can’t quite unravel. It draws you in, curiouser and curiouser, until you find yourself face to face with a crossroads. Two paths diverge in the yellow woods of your mind and the only thing that remains is to choose.

“Then I’ll take it all,” you reply after a breath, thoughts slipping into place. Threshold crossed, decision made. You step into the lobby and head towards the elevator leaving Mingyu to trail behind.

The condo is blessedly quiet when you arrive upstairs; everyone else scattered throughout the city with Friday night plans. The absence of Jeonghan in particular is a relief, you knew that no matter what the context was, if he saw you return with Mingyu at this time of night you would be primed for some form of lecture or another. Whether verbal or simply that knowing stare he likes to give you when he thinks you’re being stupid.

That silent cloud of judgement would have been especially intrusive tonight as you step in through the front door barely clinging onto the tenuous air of bravado you had conjured up in the lobby downstairs. It would have shaken your resolve to follow this thought of intrigue towards Mingyu and thrust you right back into your torrential thoughts once more, spinning haphazardly between mourning over what was lost and what might not ever be.

Instead you stand with shaky confidence and a pounding in your chest as you bid Mingyu goodnight, savouring that look of intrigue you’re sure is mirrored in his own expression as you close your bedroom door for the night and bar any doubt from creeping in behind you.

You listen through the walls as his own door clicks shut before rummaging through the unpacked duffel bag in the corner of your room. You dig through unsorted paperwork, unopened mail, random knick knacks you had found no home for yet until your fingers grasp the object you were seeking.

Sleek, black silicone emerges from the bag and you glance behind you as if Mingyu might be standing there, ready to chastise you for your impure thoughts.

You stand up, hesitating, evaluating the vibrator as it sits like a brick in your palm. You had only used it once, years ago, after buying it at a convention with Seulgi before it ended up buried deep in the recesses of your drawer. At the time your sex life had been consistent and satisfying–it was early days for you and Wonwoo and the excitement and novelty of having each other at your fingertips for the whims of the moment had kept you too busy to even remember that you had the toy stored away in the first place. It wasn’t until you were packing to move out that you rediscovered it.

You hesitate for a second before thinking ‘fuck it, I paid like $200 for this, I’m gonna get some use out of it’ and slipping out of your clothes and into your bed.

You try to set the mood in your mind, fingers swirling idly over your bare skin as you flip through mental images of celebrities, movie scenes, fantasies that you used to use to get in the mood. Anything to deepen that pressure that burned quietly inside of you. None of your old tricks produce results and you sigh, ready to give up on the activity completely, before you feel the distinct thud of Mingyu’s headboard against the wall.

You imagine Mingyu: what is he doing? Maybe sitting on the edge of his bed, scrolling through Instagram, or maybe he’s under his covers too. Maybe he’s having the same thoughts as you?

You follow this thought where it takes you, back to that night the other week. Back to the low sound of his moaning carried through the drywall and plaster, the thudding of his headboard against your wall, back to that yawning pit in your stomach that felt like it might swallow you whole at any second. Your hand traces the path of the scene playing out in your mind, blazing a trail down your chest, stomach, and finally to the aching space between your thighs.

You recall the weight of Mingyu’s arm pressed against your back on the park bench–steady and solid. The sound of his voice and laughter muffling your gasp of surprise as you flick the vibrator on and jump at the sudden noise filling your room.

You flick it back off immediately, worrying that the distinctive buzzing sound would carry itself through the cover of your blankets and body and make it through the proven-thin walls towards Mingyu’s ears. He would know for sure you were in here thinking about him, fantasizing about his lips on your neck. The thought of discovery adds a confusing stab of guilt to the knotting in your guts but you do your best to squash it as it pops up. What exactly were you doing wrong? You were tired of denying yourself pleasure out of fear of other people’s judgements or shame. You flick the vibrator back on, this time prepared for the noise, and dig the object deeper between your thighs.

Maybe part of you wants him to hear you–wants him to know what you were doing alone in the dark in the bedroom next to him. Maybe, in this alternative timeline, he knocks softly on your door. His brown eyes rake over your naked body, bared to him like a gift prepared just for him. His sweatpants strain with the pressure of his bulge as his blood travels lower, and lower. Filling him with the desire as it fills you now. He steps forward, wavering at the threshold of your bed and asks, voice so low it plucks at the strings of your core, to join you. To help you release this coil of tension that had made its home inside of you, growing bigger and hungrier every single day since running into him half-naked in the kitchen that first night. Maybe he’s been running through this same scenario every night before bed, hand gripping his cock as it pulses in his hand, sweat beading his brow.

Alternative timeline or not, the thought itself is all that you need to push you over the edge as you move the vibrator against your clit, finding the right rhythm of pressure, the right balance of relief, to feed the beast of desire crying open-mouthed inside of you. To have your legs shaking and your core pulsing with waves of pleasure no longer denied. You cry out, muffling the sound with the back of your free hand, and for the first time in years it isn't Wonwoo's face clear in your mind as you reach your climax.

―AUTHOR’S NOTE: i cant link them here, but please find the series masterlist and other chapters on my blog. i would love to know your thoughts on the story so far !

#caratlibrary #svthub #mingyu x reader #wonwoo x reader #mingyu smut #seventeen smut #seventeen angst #mingyu angst #wonwoo angst #seventeen fluff #svt x reader #chm updates

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megumishotgf · 1 year

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cabin holiday with bf! katsuki

summary: going on a cabin vacation with your pro-hero boyfriend, katsuki.

warnings: some nsfw content (like three sentences detailing sex) oopsie

masterlist

thinking about renting a cabin in the middle of nowhere with katsuki. he sustained a injury during a difficult mission a few weeks ago and the hero commission insisted he couldn’t come back yet. you know how damn impatient your boyfriend is - he is itching to get back to his job. he physically cannot function without a routine. staying in bed all day? not a chance in hell.

you suggest going away with katsuki for the final week of his time off. he agrees because what the hell else is he supposed to do with his time? also, he can’t say no to you. he feels like a fucking caveman for the first few days because there’s no internet. he’s always complaining.

“y/n, the hell did you bring me to this dump for?”

“you’re annoying. no, i’m not going to a damn spa!”

“there’s nothing to fucking do here. guess we’re going to have to fuck all day.”

but he settles in quickly. katuski is the perfect housewife. he cooks three meals a day for you, makes sure the fireplace is stocked on wood, makes sure the windows are closed so you don’t get those damn mosquitos inside… and, of course, he will act as if it’s the worst thing ever but he loves being able to take care of you. even if you insist it’s his time to rest, you know he hates being kept still and having nothing to do.

as katsu said, you have sex all the time. in front of the fireplace, in the shower, in the hot tub, on the kitchen counters… any surface there is, he wants you bent over it and begging for it.

on the second day, you decide to go on a hike around the cabin. you’re surrounded by tall forestland. the earthy air smells so good in places like this. you can hear birds singing sweet songs, branches crackling underneath your feet and… katsuki’s beautifully gruff voice. careful, dumb ass! do you want to fall over and die?

he’s concerned (terrified) that you’ll run into a bear but you tell him he’s just being silly. although if you were to encounter one, they would definitely feel threatened by your angry spiky-haired boyfriend who constantly looks like he’s about to throw hands.

remember the spa you mentioned? the one katsuki refused to go to? after some convincing and head he agrees to go. but never for a massage. he doesn’t want anyone’s damn hands on him but yours. you spend time in the sauna, the pool and finish the day with manicures. of course, katsuki gets one nail painted to match the pretty colour on yours. afterwards, you’re glowing radiantly and he can visibly see you more relaxed. he notes to agree next time you suggest having a spa day.

the next morning, it’s beautifully sunny. the weather is uplifting and you wake up earlier than usual to start your day, the golden hues all around the cabin making you feel energised. katsuki has already gotten up to do a quick work-out (he won’t listen to you when you reprimand him about his injury). you suggest going out for a bike ride to appreciate the beautiful day.

on your bike journey, you drive past a field full of flowers. there’s lawns of wild flowers growing and swaying gently in the wind. you’ll stop to collect some. katsuki will take one of the daisies you picked up and tuck it behind your ear. my pretty baby, he’ll call you. your heart swells at his softness. you love seeing this side of him. the special side reserved only for you to see.

on your final day, you and katsuki decide to stay in the cabin and relax. it’s colder today, despite the sunny weather you had just the day before. katsu makes you your favourite breakfast. yeah, yeah brat. i didn’t make this for you. but of course he did. he always makes sure you’re eating well. he can’t keep his hands off you normally, but today he seems to be unable to let go of you.

the day ends in fucking great sex. katsuki is so touchy today and makes you feel so loved and desired. he’s got his hands all over you, his cock making sure to hit all your favourite spots. after prepping you with his fingers and mouth, obviously. and he drags it on so long until you’re begging for him to get to it. but he just wants to savour you and this moment. you’re so pretty. his pretty girl.

he’ll end the day confessing he’s going to miss this. and it hits you then that’s why he’s being so touchy. you’ll make an ‘aw’ sound because your boyfriend is so freaking cute. he scoffs when you call him that, though. katsuki gets back to work shortly after you come home. he’ll think of the night you fucked in front of the fireplace often and it’ll get him so noticeably hard.

#mha x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo smut

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hornedqueenofhell · 8 months

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Steddie Sick fic pt. 4

Pt 3

Eddie wakes up and immediately feels his hackles raise. This isn’t his bed, this isn’t one of his friends' houses, hell he doesn’t even remember leaving Hellfire last nigh… oh because he didn’t. He fainted, but where is he now? And why is he still dressed?

He cracks one eye open to assess his surroundings, the room is nice, the bed doubly so. The pillow smells dusty though, like this room hasn’t been used in a while. His wallet and everything are still in his pants, it had been too humid for his leather jacket today, yesterday now, but nothing lends any details as to where the hell he might be. His shoes are even tucked away nicely next to the bedside table.

The smell of food hits him and stops all thoughts in his tracks. He’s still sore and his throat feels like someone took sandpaper to it, but his head is clearer today than it was yesterday and his stomach is growling. He gets his shoes back on and laced up before creeping downstairs as quietly as possible. There’s no pictures or anything to indicate who lives here but he’s seen Harrington’s living room before when he’d dealt. Why he’s here is still a mystery, Harrington hasn’t thrown a party in years.

“Hey, you’re awake.”

Eddie jumps almost a foot in the air as the man in question appears through the doorway to the kitchen. He’s barefoot, wearing a pair of criminally low slung sweatpants with no shirt and when did Steve Harrington get chest hair?! He sucks on his lower lip so he doesn’t drool and excuse me was that a once-over? Did King Steve just check him out? Oh his poor queer heart cannot take this.

“I’m working on breakfast if you think you could keep anything down for me.”

I’ll go down whenever you want big boy. Eddie mentally slaps himself before giving the other man a weak smile, “I’ll never turn down food but umm, why am I here?”

“You don’t remember?” Either his imagination is going wilder than usual, fantasies of biting Steve’s neck and chest notwithstanding, or Steve Harrington is giving him a disappointed pout.

“I was at Hellfire, and then I woke up here.”

“Come eat and I’ll explain.”

He trots after the younger man into the kitchen, ignoring the massive fuck off table in favor of grabbing a stool at the breakfast bar. He watches Steve cover a pleased little smile with his hand and he’s not sure what he did to earn it, he would like to so he can do it again, every day for however long it makes Steve do that. Steve makes up a plate for him with buttered toast and scrambled eggs, it’s not much but it looks good.

“There’s plenty if you want more, figured I’d start you off easy considering your fever was so bad last night you passed out at your game.”

“Christ, I did? Guess that’s why I don’t remember anything, maybe I got a concussion.” He shoves a bite of eggs in his mouth, they’re delightfully fluffy.

“I doubt it but I can check if you like, I’ve had several.”

“Umm, I guess?” Eddie shrugs and prepares himself to answer the usual questions that people ask when someone has possible brain damage. He is not prepared for Steve to come around the edge of the bar and physically turn Eddie to face him before lifting the metalhead’s chin with a finger curled under it and leaning in close to his face.

“Look right at me please.” He asks softly and Eddie resists the urge to blurt out ‘every damn day if you ask me like that’. Eddie can feel the warmth of Steve’s body so close to his own, the younger man almost close enough to have settled between his thighs instead. He barely holds back a whimper when Steve’s thumb brushes over his jaw, his fingers carefully tilting Eddie’s face as he examines his eyes for what feels like much longer than it probably has been.

“Your eye dilation looks normal, I’d ask if you see something you like based on how wide your pupils are but that’d be pretty unprofessional of me.” With a wink Steve steps back and walks back over to the stove while Eddie crosses his legs with a cough.

“W-what do you mean un-ahem-unprofessional?” His throat was scratchy from being sick, that's all.

“I’m going to EMT school. I know they think I don’t know that they know but Dustin is about as subtle as a bat to the face. And everyone keeps slipping me flashcards that are definitely not in my handwriting. It’s why they called me when you went down, I guess no one in your band could take you with them.” Steve starts eating eggs right out of the pan and tapping his fork over his plump, wet bottom lip and that should not be attractive what the fuck!

“So my van is still at the- school! Fuck what time is it?!” He starts looking around frantically even though he’s fairly certain no one thought to give Steve his backpack. Or his lunchbox.

“I already called the school, told a little fib about already being certified and that you’d be taking today and tomorrow off to recover from being sick. So you’re excused and Dustin or one of your friends can pick up your schoolwork.”

“Jeez man, thank you. I’d offer you a dime bag on the house or something if I had my lunch box.”

“How about you drop by movie night instead sometime? You could bring a few joints if you want.” Steve offers like they’re fucking friends or something, “You are good with the kids, they’ve been through a lot and the rest of us in the Babysitter’s club appreciate it. So you might as well join us for beers and movies and get the rest of the club package.”

“You need someone to help you veto the rest of the group's artsy movies don’t you?”

“Yessss,” Steve slumps against the counter with his head buried in his arms, “anything but another German expressionist film please!”

“Alright big boy I’ll give you a hand.”

Steve popped back up, cheeks flushed and a wide smile on his face, “Thanks Eddie, ugh I’m so happy I could kiss you!”

Eddie choked as Steve looked up at him, flushed and disheveled and barely dressed and he was not a strong man dammit!

“Never took you for the type to kiss boys Harrington.” Remember you’re straight and stop looking at me like that. Steve just shifts to where he’s leaning on his elbows, pushing his pectorals together in a way that would have made plenty of women jealous. He folds his hands and balances his chin on them, batting his eyelashes at Eddie.

“You’d be surprised.” He says slyly before nudging Eddie’s plate closer to him, “Finish eating before it gets cold, then I’ve got some pain killers for you and we can just crash on the couch for the day unless you want me to take you anywhere.”

“You, want me to stay?”

The smile Steve sends him feels undeserved, like he missed a chapter in this book somewhere. He and Steve had spoken maybe ten words to each other in high school and now he’s invited to have a movie marathon with the ex-king while he has a cold.

“Sure Eddie, I’d just be here alone otherwise.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want my uncle to catch this. Aren’t you worried about getting sick?”

The younger man shrugs, “Guaranteed the munchkins are going to get it, which means their siblings are going to get so one way or another I’m going to end up getting it too. Might as well get it out of the way now.”

“You’re not really anything like I expected.”

“Is that a good thing?” Steve asks softly, the first sign of insecurity Eddie has seen from him in their few interactions.

“Very Stevie.” He can only offer back honestly, the gentle smile he receives in return is like feeling the sun come through the clouds.

"Just no horror movies please, they can give me migraines sometimes." The younger man asks bashfully.

“That's fine by me sweetheart.” He goes back to his food and accepts the painkillers Steve hands him after.

He’s curious about what a day spent with Steve Harrington will be like.

Steve’s going to romance this cute nerd with a crush on him so hard. Thank you for reading!

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #sickfic #emt!steve #steddiefic chronicles

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icequeenbae · 4 months

Text

Boy Next Door (m) Ch.1 | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Neighbor AU, slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut

Warnings [whole story]: Baek being the neighbor we’re all dreaming of, harassment (nothing graphic), a bit of body image/ insecurity, MC sucks at relationships, explicit content, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~18.5k (total), 4.5k (pt.1)

Summary: Your neighbor Baekhyun has been a pleasant acquaintance since you moved into your current apartment almost a year ago. Could he also be… a perfect match?

Chapter Masterlist: Pt. 1 > Pt. 2 > Pt. 3 > Pt. 4 (fin)

Author’s note: This has taken me so, SO long to write and edit that I cannot believe the time has come to post it lmao I just wanted to write something simple with the classic boy-next-door vibe but as usual, the story ended up being much longer than planned and I am going to post it as a mini-series. Please keep in mind that your feedback is what motivates me to write and post more <3 And biiig thanks to the lovely @beomcoups for taking on the beta duties on this whole story~

Network Tags: @bbh-net @k-vanity @ksmutsociety

PART 1

In the lobby or on your floor – those were the two locations where you’d been bumping into Baekhyun most often. Which wasn’t that strange, considering that you were neighbors. But it somehow always caught you off guard and left you flustered.

Just like the first time.

It happened almost a year ago when you were waiting for the elevator on the first floor of your building with your best friend Yuki, who came early to help you with preparations. A guy in a loose white dress shirt and jeans stepped into the elevator with you, politely greeting you before pressing his floor number.

‘Oh, you live on the 13th as well? So, you and our Y/N are neighbors!’ Yuki exclaimed.

‘Nice to meet you,’ you muttered and bowed, shy from the sudden introduction. He reciprocated, chocolate hair falling into his eyes charmingly.

‘You should come to her housewarming party! It’s in a couple hours,’ Yuki chimed in again. ‘You don’t need to bring anything, it’s just a small thing with a couple friends and neighbors. We’re making sure Y/N-ie settles in nicely here. So please come, we have tons of food!’

If anyone could ever say no to your friend… Well, you had never met such a person. You guessed that Baekhyun was simply too stunned by her enthusiasm, so he said he’d swing by for sure. In a way, you were thankful that she’d asked him – you’d have never had the guts to invite someone like that; especially not anyone as good-looking and cool as Baekhyun.

You regretted letting your bestie invite him the following evening when your party was in full swing for several hours. Most of the food was devoured, so now you were all drinking, crunching on snacks, and conversing; or trying to while jumping from one topic to another.

‘I wish we could gather more often. We all like to hang out with you, you know?’

As always, Yuki nagged at you for being too ‘stay-at-home’ of a friend.

‘I like to hang out too. But home is home. You know parties aren’t really my… favorite pastime.’

‘What is your favorite pastime, lying in bed cuddling your blanket?’ Chanyeol joked insensitively.

He should’ve known better since you were the most troubled in your group of friends regarding relationships. It was super tough for you to find a match, even when you made an effort to get out of the house and meet new people, mostly because of your history of failed relationships where your partners gained interest in someone else. It seemed like you were too plain to hold someone’s attention for long. So, you’d been ‘that single friend’ for several lonely years now. And at this time, you were actually in the very beginning of a new, promising relationship. You were still pretty insecure about it; thus, Yeol’s comment really did make you flinch. He was drunk, so that was understandable, but you still sulked at his words, mainly because they were true.

‘Hey, it doesn’t have to be a blanket.’ You frowned, pressing the straw to your lips in frustration.

‘I’m kinda sad that guy you’ve been talking to couldn’t come,’ Yuki interjected. ‘I wanted to find out what he’s like.’

‘Minho had work-related travel, so he’s resting up.’ You shrugged, sipping your drink timidly.

‘I’m sure the guy made this excuse just to avoid meeting your friends. How long have you known him for, like, two days?’ Chanyeol interjected.

‘It’s been a few weeks, actually,’ you corrected, and Hoseok, Yuki’s boyfriend, muttered a reproaching ‘hyung’ in his direction.

‘Gosh, you’re really this stupid while drunk,’ Yuki shook her head disapprovingly at your friend, who simply shrugged.

Baekhyun was pretty silent during the latest exchange, so when you briefly made eye contact, it reminded you that he could also hear all of that chatter. Which made you want to choke on your drink from humiliation. Thankfully, one of your friends still had some tact left that night, so they quickly changed the direction of the conversation. Still… you’d been mortified for weeks after the event, doing your best to avoid bumping into Baekhyun when leaving for work.

***

The next time you met, Baekhyun was also in the lobby of your apartment building. And once again, before a gathering at your place. Just days prior you had lost it and left your resignation letter at your boss's desk. Working such long hours under the constant pressure of absolutely unrealistic deadlines was taking its toll on you for sure. But when you found out they promoted a person, who was obviously less experienced and capable than you in working (but more capable in flirting with your manager), instead of you… It became the last straw.

Baekhyun appeared right on time as you struggled to push the elevator button with a whole case of beer in your hands.

‘Y/N,’ you heard his velvety voice call. ‘Nice to see you.’

‘Oh- Hi, Baekhyun.’ You greeted awkwardly, puffing from the weight you had to balance.

‘Let me help you with that?’ His suggestion sounded like a question, yet he instantly scooped the case from your hands.

‘You don’t need- thank you,’ you said, and he shook his head to indicate that it wasn’t a big deal.

‘So… having a party again?’ He asked as the elevator doors closed.

‘I wouldn’t call it a party,’ you hummed, looking at your feet. ‘I kinda had to quit my horrible job of 4 years, so my friends are making me celebrate it. Not that becoming unemployed calls for a celebration…’

You trailed off, not wanting to be a nuisance to your neighbor. He was just making small talk.

‘I’m sorry to hear that. Are you taking a break now or looking for something else?’

‘I’ll start looking next week. It’s Friday, my friends are coming… So I’ll try to just clear my mind and rest for one full weekend before I start stressing about a new job. Hopefully, my friends wouldn’t talk my ear off about it – that’s what the beer’s for. My little trick,’ you chuckled sheepishly.

‘Aren’t your friends supposed to treat you in this situation?’ Baekhyun huffed, shaking his head to rearrange his hair and better see you.

‘They should… bring more alcohol with them, I think. I couldn’t have them over for nothing, though.’

The doors opened after a robotic voice announced your floor.

‘Well, anyhow. Thanks a lot for your help!’ You tried taking the beer from Baekhyun, but he didn’t let you.

‘Open the door first; you can’t do it while holding this.’

‘Right. Thanks,’ you fussed, pressing your password in.

Baekhyun quickly placed the case on the floor of your hallway.

‘You should come!’ You blurted out, instantly getting flustered. ‘If you want.’

‘I might drop by if I’m free,’ he smiled softly. ‘My family wanted to have a video call later. That may take long.’

‘Of course. Have fun!’ You nodded, beating yourself up in your mind for being so weird suddenly.

‘You have fun,’ he chuckled, stepping towards his apartment. ‘Oh, and Y/N?’

Looking up at him as he called your name, you were met with his warm yet serious eyes.

‘If you need anything… You know where to find me.’

That made you strangely sentimental.

‘T-thank you.’

He sent you a message later on and let you know he couldn’t make it to your party. But in a way, he was there – on your mind.

***

It was about three weeks after you’d broken things off with Minho. If you could even consider it one, the relationship wasn’t long, only a couple months. At first, you thought it could be something, realizing later that it was only wishful thinking. There was no way the two of you could make it work; you were just not compatible with each other. The more you got to know him, the more you were reassured of that. Your life goals were different, your outlook on relationships was different… even your ideas of quality time with a significant other didn’t match. This time, the initial infatuation wore off rather quickly – probably because you didn’t go out of your way to appease him. You knew it was probably for the better. Pretty much all of your relationships ended the same way, with your boyfriends telling you they found someone else. Someone… more exciting.

This was the case for your first relationship halfway in your first year of university.

‘I’m sorry, Y/N. I just don’t feel the spark, you know? You’re so… domestic,’ your then-boyfriend said in his breakup speech. ‘I’m young, I want to experience stuff, be bold, and have fun. And there are people that I can do this with, who’ll also enjoy it.’

It repeated less than two years later when you’d barely worked up the courage to try and start something with another person. When it happened the third time, you decided you weren’t really made for relationships. It was ironic since you always wanted to be in one. You were very affectionate and were keen on taking care of people. Yes, you weren’t that into big gatherings and parties, and maybe it was a little too difficult to drag you anywhere when you were stressing about the upcoming tests and stuff… But you weren’t completely closed off! Even with those limitations, you were very sociable and had many friends. Was it so bad that you didn’t say yes to every suggestion? Did your inclination to stay at home and have cozy dates instead of outdoorsy stuff make you a non-relationship material? It seemed like every time someone else appeared, your boyfriends easily decided to move on.

And even though you weren’t in love with Minho, this breakup still made you sour. What made this particular day suck was that you’d found out that he was already in a new relationship; happily broadcasting it everywhere.

You weren’t jealous of him for being with someone else. You envied him for being able to find another partner in mere days after you parted ways, while for you, it felt like you’d never find or be able to retain anyone. Ever. Never ever.

‘Earth to Y/N!’ You jumped from someone’s voice ringing in your ears.

Looking up, you saw that the elevator doors were held open by your dashing neighbor, who was staring directly at you.

‘Sorry, I spaced out,’ you quickly entered. ‘Hi.’

‘Hey,’ Baekhyun smiled, pressing the button for your floor. ‘Is everything okay?’

‘Um, yeah. No. I mean-’ You sighed. ‘I’m just a bit out of sorts.’

‘Trouble at work?’

‘No, my new job is great. A huge improvement on the previous one. It’s just… everything else is not nearly as great?’

Yeah, because you pushed yourself to get back on the market to finally not be alone, and here you were. Back to square one.The sniffling you produced startled even your own self.

‘Oh god, I’m sorry.’

‘It’s okay. There’s nothing to be sorry about,’ he replied, his voice gentle. ‘Do you want to talk?’

‘Oh no, I wouldn’t dream about boring you with my stupid problems.’

‘I’m sure they aren’t stupid,’ he said. ‘And I have ice cream. Almost any flavor you could think of.’

You looked at him silently, and he smiled again reassuringly.

‘It’s not mandatory for you to tell me anything. But I can treat my favorite neighbor with some ice cream, can I not?’

‘Am I your favorite just because you don’t know anyone else?’ You snickered gawkily.

‘No. Not just-’

He was interrupted by the usual announcement of your floor.

‘So, what do you think? You can change first and then come, no hurry. I’m free tonight.’

You puckered your lips, genuinely intrigued by his offer. Ice cream sounded perfect right about now. Although agreeing just because of the promised treats was pretty childish, you couldn’t help but be seduced by his suggestion. So, you gave him a shy nod.

‘Okay. Throw on something comfy and come over.’

You entered your respective apartments, and only after the door behind you locked… you realized that your heart was racing.

‘Damn you, Y/N, why did you agree to do this??’ You whined, catching a glimpse of your scrunched-up face in the mirror.

Fishing your phone out of your handbag quickly, you messaged Yuki.

You | I fucked up, Yu!!

You | Idk what to do now…. ㅠㅠ

Ki-yaah | What happened?? Did you like a pic on Minho’s new gf’s SNS??

Ki-yaah | I’m so dumb for telling you about this… I’m so sorry Y/N ㅠㅠ

You | No, not that

You | Who cares about Minho and his girlfriend??

You | I mean, I was a bit salty about this… But I met Baekhyun again!

Ki-yaah | Baekhyun? Your cute as fuck neighbor Baekhyun??

You | No

You | Yes?

You | My neighbor Baekhyun. I blurted out that I wasn’t in the greatest mood, and he invited me to his place for ice cream!

Ki-yaah | WHAT

Ki-yaah | YAH

Ki-yaah | THAT SLEEK BASTARD

Ki-yaah | I hope you’re texting me from his couch

Ki-yaah | Or kitchen counter

Ki-yaah | Or wherever you kids decide to do it

A bunch of obscene emojis appeared on your screen, making you blush on the spot.

You | Do it?? We’re not doing anything. I’m home!

Ki-yaah | So, you’ve already done it?? HOW WAS IT??

Ki-yaah | Waaah, you’re quick these days, Y/N-ah! Finally, you’re learning your lessons

Ki-yaah | I hope you wrapped it up though

Ki-yaah | I wouldn’t blame you if you skipped it, though, I can imagine how starved you are on good sex.. Still, safety first!

Ki-yaah | Wait, so was he?? Any good??

Ki-yaah | You’re silent!

She typed so fast that you didn’t even have a second to write back, mostly from shock – your friend wasn’t always this shameless, actually.

Then she started calling.

‘Yah, why aren’t you spilling the beans?? Too worn out to type, bestie?’ She smirked on the phone, making you cringe.

‘Because there’s nothing to spill! I haven’t even gone over yet.’

There was a second of silence.

‘… What?!’

‘I have to change; I just came from work, you know? My makeup needs fixing too…’

Your phone instantly started vibrating as a video call request came in, which you begrudgingly accepted.

‘Damn, you can’t go like this. It’s not seductive at all!’ She exclaimed.

‘I’m not going over to seduce anyone! And he told me to wear something comfy…’

‘What?? Hm, actually…’ She tapped her index finger on her chin, deep in thought. ‘He does look like the type to be into that.’

‘I-into what?’

‘Cute girls! I told you already, he was probably crushing on you since the time he came to your housewarming party!’

‘Pfft, that’s ridiculous. And don’t bring up him allegedly glaring at Yeol for his stupid comments again, I beg of you!’

‘Alright. But he’s always so nice to you! Oh-Em-Gee, you’d look so cute together,’ she squealed.

‘I don’t have time for this. I can’t have him waiting for much longer, and I need to shower…’

‘Yes! And remove your makeup while you’re at it.’

‘Huh?? If I redo my makeup… isn’t it gonna look strange? Like I’m trying too hard?’

‘You won’t have to redo it. You’ll have only very basic nude makeup on. Looking all natural and cute.’

‘I swear, if you say ‘cute’ one more time-’

‘Can’t a girl dream?? I can already imagine how cute your children would be…’ Your friend kept musing.

‘I’m hanging up.’

‘Yah, take this seriously. Clean up nicely, and let your hair down. Also, shave your-’

‘Yuki!!’

‘You never know!! One second, he’s licking ice cream off his spoon; the other, he’s l-’

Quickly tapping on your phone screen, you canceled this embarrassing call. The vivid images didn’t leave your mind as fast, though, so you shivered, shaking your head to get rid of the obscenities.

‘She’s a bad influence, for sure,’ you muttered, still ashamed of yourself for imagining your neighbor in such a context.

The time was ticking, so you decided that Yuki was somewhat right and needed to clean up. You also needed to hurry the heck up; you didn’t want to make Baekhyun wait too long. Thirty minutes later, you were in front of his door.

‘Come in, come in,’ he ushered you inside, having you change your footwear for the pink house slippers.

Why did he have those again?

‘Cute, right? I ordered them for my niece and got the size completely wrong, but they fit you perfectly. I guess I wasn’t wrong after all.’

He looked at your feet for another second before blinking and clearing his throat.

‘Let’s not waste any more time, everything’s ready. Come on!’

Everything? Did he prepare a whole reception?

You took a good look at the back of his head as he walked you to his kitchen, noticing that his hair was slightly wet. Did he also shower? You swallowed at the thought. He probably didn’t invest as much time into the preparations as you did, though. You blamed your best friend for the inappropriate thought she planted in your head!

‘Here, take a look.’

He opened his freezer, and you gasped.

There was an entire collection of ice cream. Cones, popsicles, buckets… All different flavors and manufacturers.

‘I see you’re impressed,’ he smirked. ‘I have a niece and a nephew, you know? Kids aren’t easy to please these days.’

‘Can’t deny that I am. How many do you have here?’

‘No idea… I just keep buying them. Which one’s to your liking? You can try different ones. I’m in the mood for mint choco and lemon.’

‘Those are my favorites!’ You jumped up like a kid.

‘Really? Both?’

‘Yeah! I haven’t seen a lemon ice cream anywhere, only sorbets! Where did you find it?’ You closed the freezer as he got the two buckets out.

Baekhyun suddenly seemed pleased with himself.

‘You think I give away trade secrets just like that…’ He replied mysteriously.

‘I wanna buy some too,’ you pouted, circling around him while he took the lids off. ‘If you don’t tell me… I’ll eat all of yours!’

‘Ha, go ahead. There’s more where that came from,’ he teased right back, hovering slightly over you.

Lowering your gaze to avoid staring directly at him, you noticed something.

‘What’s this?’

Baekhyun turned back to the counter.

‘Ah, this old thing? You know how ice cream scoops are sold in paper cups or cones? This thing,’ he picked it up. ‘Is to make those. Watch.’

He dipped the instrument in water and shook it slightly, then scooped the mint ice cream, creating a smooth green ball with tiny pieces of chocolate adding to its hue.

‘Cool,’ you muttered, genuinely finding that fascinating.

‘Right? It’s awesome!’

‘Let me guess: the kids don’t appreciate it enough?’ You asked.

‘Those little- Here, you try with lemon.’ He pressed on a small lever and dropped the green globe into a bowl.

You shook your head.

‘I’ll mess it up; you do it.’

‘Come on, Y/N. You can’t mess it up; it’s just ice cream.’

‘Just ice cream? You don’t deserve to know the secret selling spots for this!’

He snorted, moving to the side to give you more space to try and repeat his previous actions.

You dipped it in water like he did and shook it before moving the lemon ice cream bucket closer. Spending about twenty seconds taking aim, you huffed.

‘I can’t do it! Yours is so round and pretty; I am not that professional.’

‘I’ll help,’ he chuckled at your meltdown, holding your wrist and softly pressing down on your hand to guide it. ‘Scoop it this way to make it full and round.’

You did as you were told, yet your mind was far away from the scooping technique. The entire focus of your being was now set on the unprecedented proximity you were in. He held your hand, his chest so close to your shoulder that you could feel the heat radiating off him. When you dropped a yellow ball of lemon ice cream into the bowl, you could only pray that he didn’t notice the goosebumps littering your arms.

‘See? Yours is even better-shaped than mine,’ he hummed close to your ear.

‘Y-yeah.’

As if sensing your perturbation, Baekhyun suddenly stepped back.

‘Trying just two flavors is a waste of an evening. Let’s get more.’

Ten minutes later, you were sitting in his living room at the small table in front of his couch. The bowl with at least a dozen different ice creams sat atop another one, which was filled with ice.

‘No one likes melted goo, right?’ Baekhyun chuckled while constructing this mobile freezer.

You tried all of them one by one, gushing about each flavor.

‘The grape one isn’t tickling my fancy,’ he said, nudging the oddly-colored glob away.

‘Really?’ You reached for it with your spoon.

‘Don’t even try it. That’s bad,’ he scrunched his nose. ‘I can taste every chemical they used to make this grape flavor.’

You laughed, trying it despite his protests.

‘It tastes like… very cheap jelly,’ you said.

‘Exactly! Such a strange texture. Hmm, I shall look for a better option then. My nephew Siwoo loves grapes.’

You smiled at his concern for his youngest family member’s preferences.

‘Your nephews must be the happiest kids in town with an uncle like that,’ you murmured, stealing a bite from the rest of the lemon ball that he subtly nudged your way earlier.

‘They’re pretty lucky, aren’t they?’ He agreed easily, earning a snicker from you.

As you savored the last of the lemon flavor on your tongue, he leaned in, eyes focused on your lips.

‘You eat just like Siwoo,’ he instinctively wiped your lower lip with his thumb.

Looking up at him, you caught the moment he realized what he was doing and retreated.

‘Sorry,’ he muttered awkwardly. ‘It’s a habit.’

Pressing your finger to your lower lip, which was now burning, you shook your head neutrally.

‘It’s okay. You must spend a lot of time with them,’ you scooped more in your spoon to somehow soothe the burn on your lips.

‘Not as much as I’d like. Most of the time, our schedules don’t match up, especially with them living in a different city. I try to have them over or visit them as much as possible.’

Baekhyun’s voice became warmer as he reminisced.

‘I get scolded by hyung a lot for spoiling them. But what can I do? At least they’ll have those pleasant memories and presents to remember me by while we’re apart.’

‘Are they close in age?’

‘About four years apart. Seoyul is pretty grown already; I can’t believe her little brother is going to school soon as well.’ He smiled, remembering something. ‘When she started her first grade, he was so upset. He cried every time she left the house.’

‘Aw, that’s so cute,’ you cooed. ‘So they’re getting along well?’

‘Yeah, apart from the occasional bickering. Siwoo is… a boy.’

‘A little daredevil?’

‘He’s driving his noona insane sometimes. To be honest, I was exactly the same at his age. We’re both lucky to have siblings several years older.’

‘Ah, so your hyung is much older than you?’

‘Seven years. He was almost like a father,’ Baekhyun chuckled. ‘But had he been even a couple of years younger… Pretty sure he would’ve given me a piece of his mind back then.’

‘I wouldn’t ever imagine that you were a maknae of your family.’

‘Why? I had so much aegyo as a child! Yes, my mom had to exercise lots of patience, but I was cute as hell.’

‘I’m sure that’s how it was,’ you hummed.

‘I’m still in the top-3 cutest of our family list. Might even be cuter than Seoyul at times; she’s way too serious these days.’

‘Wow, going over your nephews’ heads after the title… How mature of you.’

‘Hey, don’t blame me for being extremely cute.’

‘Show me some aegyo then,’ you challenged him with a smile.

‘Huh, you wish. You’re not ready for my aegyo, Y/N-ie.’ He responded sassily.

‘Is that so?’ You smirked, holding his gaze up until the chime of your phone provided an interruption.

Your bestie found a great time to pry into your business, which was evident from the message previews on the screen.

Ki-yaah | You’re not texting me back…

Ki-yaah | Which either means that you chickened out…

Ki-yaah | …or his stamina is REALLY freaking impressive

Ki-yaah | Which one is it??? I hope it’s the latter!

You inhaled sharply and started coughing, barely managing to swipe those messages off the screen before Baekhyun could see them.

‘Are you okay?’ He patted you on the back to help you overcome your coughing fit.

‘Yeah, I’m fine. I didn’t realize it was so late… It was so rude of me to keep you up. Let me help you clean this up.’

‘Leave it,’ he shook his head, catching you by the wrist. ‘I’ll put this away later.’

‘I’ll… get going then,’ you stood so abruptly that your legs couldn’t keep up with you, completely numb from being in the same position for so long.

‘Y/N!’ Baekhyun rose to catch you by the arms. ‘Take a second, sit on the couch. Your legs must’ve fallen asleep.’

You swatted at your legs with your palms, urging the blood flow to restore quicker.

‘Sorry…’

‘Why are you sorry? I’m not in a hurry to get rid of you.’ He stated simply.

‘It’s just so late… and… you must have stuff to do.’

‘Nope. I actually had fun. I rarely get to sit around at home munching on ice cream and enjoying another grownup’s company.’

You bit your lip shyly at his words, and he suddenly tsked.

‘Although I feel like we were mostly talking about me. That’s a shame. I want to hear about you as well,’ Baekhyun mused, walking you to the door. ‘Well, let’s save it for next time.’

Next time, he said.

Next time??

You turned your back on him to conceal the shade of your cheeks and pretended to fidget with the doorknob.

‘Let me,’ he reached over you, pressing his warm chest to your back for a second to unlock the door.

But before you could step outside, his fingers wrapped around your forearm in a lax hold.

‘And Y/N… If you ever find yourself craving some lemon ice cream… I’m ready to provide it.’

With that, he pushed the door open and allowed you to leave his apartment.

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for reading! Another BBH mini-series started 💫 I hope you enjoyed part 1~ Pls let me know what you think via comments, asks and reblogs, my darlings 💜 Also, I am very curious if you are picturing anyone in particular as Hoseok hehe 🙃

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whalesforhands · 5 months

Text

for what i have overlooked

fleeting memories and unsaid words, there’s a beauty in all of them.

HBD GOJO SATORU

“So? So? Wanna spend time with your lovely teacher and tell him all about your training?” A wink that cannot be seen from under his blindfold as he throws out a peace sign, holding it up to his eyes, awaiting the replies of his precious students.

His antics are ignored.

“Panda, that punch needs some work. Loosen your fist a little next time.” She takes a bite of the ice pop, the crunch of the cold treat loud.

“Oh yeah? Inumaki said that I got a mean kick though. Should I try that next time?” The crinkling of plastic as he unwraps the ice cream sandwich, licking his lips.

“Salmon!”

Maki wipes the sweat from her brow, confident grin upon her face. “Yeah, bring it.”

Oh well. Guess he’ll just eat by himself, then. Rummaging through the remains of the plastic bag and digging around, he hums. He was sure he had bought enough— Scooping up all the remaining ice creams they had and dumping it at the counter as he took a phone call.

Oh! There it is! His hand pulls out still chilled plastic, excited grin on his face as he flips it over to inspect the flavour. Like a roulette for ice cream flavours, would he like it? Love it? Hate—

His brows furrow as he looks at the packaging, his eyes squinting at he looks at the tiny prints and lackluster colours. Man, he got one of those old timey flavours…

“And there!” A hand catches the ice cream bar midair. “Red bean flavour for the masses!”

“And my cigarettes?”

“Heh.” He runs a hand through his hair dramatically, swiping hair away from his eyes as he poses with the mentioned item. “The great Gojo Satoru never forgets!”

A plastic packaging is thrown at the girl who seamlessly catches it in one hand, lax smile on her face as she nods in thanks. “The great Gojo Satoru should remember to tie his shoelaces.”

“Wha—?!” That nasty trickster of a woman! His complaint dies on the tip of his tongue when he watches her settle down beside you on that familiar bench, the sun already beginning to set as the blue of the sky starts to fade into a colourway of pink and orange.

Was the day over already? These summer days always seemed like they were far too short.

Watching as you chomp down on the ice cream held to your lips, the cold taking over your teeth as you feel a tingle up your spine. “Mmm… Suguru, I think they changed the flavour on this one.”

“Really?” He leans towards you. “I’ll have a try then—“

“I want a biteeeeeee!~” Satoru has an arm around your shoulders as he drags you in closer towards him, “Pleaseeeeee?” Puppy dog eyes and a whimpered plead, he bought it all, so please?

This… Was meant to be a shared treat between yourself and Geto to compare the red bean ice cream brands. Though, you suppose a variance in your experiment wouldn’t hurt. A peek over at Suguru only catches him rolling his eyes with a smile. That’s a yes, then.

“I’m not quite sure if you’ll like this though, Satoru. It’s a bit different to the ones we usually eat.” You’re slightly worried as you turn to hand him the stick, only for his hand to wrap around yours and aid in personally bringing it to his mouth.

“Don’t you worry about it~” Perhaps you don’t understand yet; but he would take anything as long as it’s from you.

“One bite, Satoru.” Geto is unwittingly firm despite his lax expression, his copper-amethyst eyes watch intently as Gojo starts opening his mouth. “One.”

And one bite he did take, engulfing the entire treat in his mouth.

“Ahh, this greedy—!” Suguru’s arm flies across Shoko to grab onto the ice cream that was about to be swallowed whole, hand immediately around Satoru’s and yours, attempting to pull it away only to end up with empty wooden remains.

You’re too shocked to even react.

“And that’s why I hide my ice cream.” Shoko only nods in, her head against your shoulder as the straw of her iced tea is held in between her lips.

“That was one bite!” He’s speaking through chews as he feels the icy chill seep into his teeth, feeling Suguru smack his shoulder lightly in revenge. “Bleg— Sour!”

Maybe he’s glad that this brand has lasted the test of time, despite the unappealing flavour profile. Maybe— He’ll enjoy it this time?

Gojo Satoru’s grin doesn’t falter as he tears the plastic away with ease, blindfolded eyes staring at the cold treat only momentarily, before he takes a bite.

Oh. It’s still a little too sour for his tastes.

——

“Gojo-sensei! Ya sure you’ll be fine without an umbrella?” Yuuji waves at him from under the umbrella the first-year trio stood, calling out to him from the heavy rain. Does he not want to share with them?

“Aha, don’t worry about a thing, Itadori! Look!” His hand is held out for the three to observe, outstretched and showing off just how perfectly dry it remained despite the pouring rain. Infinity truly was quite the gift.

“Ehhhh?! Gojo-sensei, you’re amazing!”

“Don’t flatter his ego.”

“Ahhh, lucky! He doesn’t have to worry about the rain messing up his hair…”

“Heh, I’m the strongest, after all!” There’s a ringing in his chest, a thump in his heart. “See ya later!” A salute before he departs.

The crowd shifting about him, the patter of the rain against umbrellas and concrete as he walks, easily navigating through as he treks the way back to campus.

He used to love rainy days, you know?

He notices you holding a palm out, letting the rain droplets fall onto your hand as you sigh, staring up at the darkened skies.

“Well, well, well! Look what we got here!” An arm around your shoulders as you hear him laugh from behind you. “Looks like it’ll be raining for quite a bit!”

You only let out a sigh, leaning back into his arm as you pout at the dreary weather. “I didn’t think it would rain this heavily today…” You really should’ve listened when Nanami started squinting at the clear sky and reminded you to take an umbrella.

A hum from the white-haired sorcerer as mischievous blue glint from underneath black frames, the impish grin alluding to something more. “Sayyyyyy, you were only gonna go back to the dorms, right?” He’s starting to unbutton his uniform jacket.

You nod. What… Is he planning?

“Then, let’s go! Brace yourself!” You feel fabric fall softly over your head, your eyesight shrouded in darkness as you feel your hand being grabbed, larger fingers intertwining with your own as you’re dragged forward and out into the unforgiving rain.

It doesn’t take long before you’re both at the entrance of your dorm home, sweating, wet, muddy and messy from the trip. “See?” He holds a thumbs up. “That wasn’t so bad, right?”

Your hand still hasn’t loosened its grip on his as you suddenly feel him shiver, a sneeze being let out. It wasn’t bad at all, but you think you’re both about to be sick. You sigh, but thumb grazing over the skin of his hand. “We’re both gonna be sick because of this, you know?” He feels extremely cold.

“And you shouldn’t have given your jacket to me, you don’t look well at all.” His white buttonup had been completely soaked through, water dripping from his head as you stare up at him, removing the wet jacket from your shoulders. A shift in your hands results in you letting go, a whine dying on his lips when he feels your dryer palms go up to his face. “Don’t do that again, okay?”

He could retort, tell you at least he made it back with you in one piece. Though, the way you look at him causes a stutter in his heart, pleading worry and concern in your eyes has him feeling… Guilty. He’s Gojo Satoru- He doesn’t get sick, nobody was ever concerned about his wellbeing till this point. Why would they? He’s one of the greatest. He didn’t have people like you or Suguru, hells, even Shoko—

Maybe he gets it. Maybe this is what the word of ‘love’ means. He should do this again sometime—

“Are you both insane?” Shoko is absolutely unimpressed as she stops in front of the both of you, towels already in hand.

Maybe he is, if he gets to evoke such reactions from you all.

He stares up at those grey skies, his palm having an itching, almost phantom warmth as he feels a subconscious twitch of his lips.

He hopes the rain stops soon.

——

“Ah- He’s waking up.” There’s a hand upon his cheek as he starts to crack open his eyes, smooth skin stroking his own and the usual weight of his sunglasses off his face.

Gentle voices, gentle touches. His nose picks up on the scent of grass, the feel of the summer breeze upon his cheeks, his head against something soft, something comforting.

“Satoru, you finally awake?” He hears a deep chuckle, a gentle voice stroking his ears, another graze of fingers upon his soft face. “You’ve been asleep for almost an hour.”

“Hrmm…” He doesn’t feel like waking up, doesn’t wanna leave this overwhelming warmth.

“Suguru, we should let him sleep a little more.” You were always the soft-hearted one. “I think he deserves it.”

Gojo Satoru thinks he’s deserving of a lot of things, such as his position upon your lap where he naps with comfort. He flips onto his side, enjoying the way you continued to stroke his head, fingers running through snow-white locks.

“Fine, just a little longer. Then it’s my turn.”

He opens his eyes to realize it was another dream. A frequent occurrence that leaves his eyes feeling dry when he lifts his blindfold up, fingers grazing across a wetness to the soft fabric.

Oh.

It hurts to breathe till the point of bruising on the days his lingering regrets stir within him, the swirling uneasiness causing him strife that he long thought he had gotten over.

It’s with those days that he thinks he’s pathetic; made to give up on things he never wanted to let go of, but with those feelings come a forgotten reminder of warmth. The blank lines that had been filled with nothing but those days.

Memories, dreams, hopes and all that was alike. He holds onto them, clawing at the remainder of their existence. A blue of youth that was unlike no other, a spring of sun-filled bloom that he wants to keep.

Because, only then will he be fine alone, wouldn’t he? It serves as a way to keep him together, keep him whole. He has to be.

He’s the strongest, after all.

Notes:

Gojo could’ve used Infinity when running through the rain with you. But you wouldn’t have been able to touch him.

He thinks he’s found a newfound taste for red bean ice cream.

#dyf au #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satosugu x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader

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allbark-no-bite · 1 year

Text

who are you mad at.

topper thornton x reader (wc: 3.4k)

summary: Topper doesn’t appreciate John B’s friendship with his girlfriend. sometimes all it takes is a blowjob and a little bit of forgiveness

warnings: 18+ smut, blow jobs, mentions of blood, over possessive boyfriend

author’s note: not me actually writing something with plot lol. i cannot believe all of the support i got on my last post, thank you all! i’m know that this isn’t Rafe lol, but i hope you’ll all give it a shot!

————————————————————————

As a little girl, I could never understand why the sheriff and the judge always drank coffee on my grandads front porch. It took me a few years to realize that it was probably for the same reason that the judge's grandson was always so sweet on me.

Politics in a small town like Kildare run deep on family ties and favors. It's all about who's blood is running through who and who's bed you wake up in when the sun comes up. As my best friend Sarah has often laughed about, it's all about how you know or who you'll blow.

Speaking of which, Topper's zipping up the fly on his jeans, fingers fumbling as he misses the hole for the button and has to try again. His cheeks are noticeably flushed, blue eyes distracted as he fidgets with his shaggy but nevertheless, neat crop of hair. No one would expect anything less of Figure Eight's golden boy.

I can't help but smile, biting my lip in an effort to conceal it from where I'm knelt on the floor. He's stupidly pretty. Blue eyes, straight nose, chin that dimples when he smiles.

He must feel my gaze on him because he catches my eye as he's buckling his belt and looks back at me. "What?" he laughs, breaking out into a bashful smile that matches my own.

"I don't know," I say, still smiling, and accept the hand he offers to pull me to my feet.

I don't remember when exactly Topper and I stopped being friends and started actually dating. It all happened so naturally that I don't know if we ever really distinguished between the two. One day we were just friends hanging out, getting drunk at the Boneyard, and then the next week he's kissing me at a party for everyone to see, like it wasn't a big deal that my best friend was kissing me. In some ways I guess it wasn't. It had never occurred to me that I would date anyone else. Sure Topper had dated Sarah for a while, but even that was short lived, and he had always been very upfront with me about it.

"Just you, I guess," I propose, grinning wider as he circles his arms around my waist, pulling me into him.

He's dressed up nicer than usual this evening for the Carrera's anniversary party in a billowy blue and white button up and khakis. The light colors pale in comparison to his bronzed skin, a likely permanent feature that the Carolina sun has given him.

"Really?" he hums, pecking my lips as my head tilts back to look up at him. My lips purse pliantly in response. Topper brushes aside the hair from my shoulder and hums, immediately pleased with the amount of exposed skin that he is rewarded with. The tank top that I'm wearing gives him the opportunity to ghost his lips along my shoulder until he settles on placing a kiss to the crevice of my neck.

My fingers curl into the brunette roots at the base of his neck at the attention. "It's not often I get you to myself."

With Topper's mom being the overbearing mother that she was, and the pressure that came with being the Judge's grandson, it was hard to get him out of their sights. However, if either bothered him, he never confessed such qualms to me. Such reasons are also why I think he was more privy to the political concept of our relationship than I was.

I remember being sixteen when a neighbor called the cops on one of Kelce's parties well after midnight. Of course no one knew this until Shoupe and a couple of his deputies showed up, sirens blaring. Most definitely a little buzzed and close to sobbing in the backseat of Shoupe's patrol car, I couldn't understand why Topper was so calm at the time. He just kept repeating, 'Don't worry about it, baby' and 'It'll all be fine'. At the time I hadn't noticed we were the only ones not in handcuffs. I thought for sure I was going to spent the night in jail and then my parents were going to kill me the next morning. He obviously knew something I didn't because twenty minutes later the patrol car was pulling into my driveway, Judge Thornton waiting on the porch with my grandad to take Topper home. The three of them shook hands and not a word was uttered about the incident again.

Topper dips his head to capture my mouth again, his teeth catching on the pout of my bottom lip.

Pressed to the front of my body, I feel his dick twitch in interest. I'm half compelled to drop to my knees and suck him off a second time just for the hell of it. The only problem is that he's got lipstick smeared on his mouth and his shirt is wrinkled and he's going to be late.

"Topper—" I begin.

"I know—I know—I know," he stresses, leaning down to kiss behind my ear again and then my cheek. "I'm going, I'm going."

Just when he pulls back and I go to step away, he grabs my face again, drawing my mouth back for another kiss.

"Topper—"

"I love you," he mumbles quickly after what is probably his hundredth kiss. "Okay. I'm going. I'll see you in a minute."

I watch him slip out the back door of the pool house we'd escaped to momentarily. I look over at the clock. What was supposed to be a quick five minute make out had turned into nearly half an hour. Thankfully, no one had been sent to look for us — namely my friends. Besides Kie and Sarah, the boys were off treasure hunting with Big John.

With all of the craziness going on in the past week, I was glad for the occasion to celebrate and enjoy the party. The evening air is cool and people are chattering excitedly, laughing and enjoying drinks. I spot Kie with her parents as I move throughout the crowd and she waves me over with a smile. Once I’m close enough, she latches onto my arm.

“We’ve got to get out of here. Big John was kidnapped, the boys are running off to South America to save him, and my parents won’t let me out of their sight,” she whispers through gritted teeth.

“Shit,” I whisper.

“Yeah, shit,” Kie stresses.

“Okay, okay. Don’t worry, I’m on it.” Turning to her dad with the brightest smile I can muster, I link arms with Kie. Thankfully, I fit in the with standard of friends Kid’s dad wants her to have, and he seems to be thankful I hang around.

“Hey, Mr. Carrera. I’m just going to steal Kie away for a moment. I promise we’ll be right back!”

He blinks, as if thinking about it for a moment before nodding. “Okay, just stay out of trouble you two.”

“We will!” I take off, dragging her with me as soon as the words leave his mouth. We haul it through throngs of tipsy guests, dodging anyone who might think to stop us.

“Wait!” Kie yelps snagging my arm before we reach the dock. Out of breath, I skid to a stop beside her.

“What—”

“Oh God,” she breathes.

Heart racing with adrenaline, I take another step towards the dock, dragging her along with me. “Kie, whatever it is, we have to go—”

“It’s John B. He’s talking to Topper.”

Straight ahead of us, I can make out John B’s wild head of hair and dingy yellow shirt. Him being the taller of the two, I glimpse the familiar white of Topper’s shirt just in front of him. Their voices are escalating by the moment, and I can make out the sound of Topper saying, “I want to know why you’re looking for my fucking girlfriend—”

“Oh God,” I repeat this time.

“(y/n), you need to go,” Kie stresses.

I take off before she even finishes her sentence, not even excusing myself as I dash past unsuspecting guests. People have started to stare and a sizable crowd has formed around them.

“— just because she’s your girlfriend doesn’t mean she can’t have friends without you.”

Topper scoffs. “Oh I see. This is about your little treasure hunting bullshit. So you think you can just run around with my girlfriend, do whatever the hell you want with her without me knowing?”

John B shoves him backwards, hard. “That’s not true!”

“John B, stop!” I shout, shoving my way to the front of the crowd as Topper catches himself. But it’s too late, John B is already grabbing the front of Topper’s shirt and yanking him to his feet.

The thing is, it’s not that Topper can’t defend himself, he’s more than capable of holding his own. It’s that he won’t. He won’t ruin his reputation in front of half the town. All he does is sneer, breathing hard as his blue eyes glint with hate. Topper had never liked my friends, only tolerated them for my sake — up until now.

“You think I don’t know?” Topper jeers. “All you’ve ever wanted is to get with (y/n).”

That’s all it takes for John B to swing. I scream as Topper stumbles backwards to the ground. Chaos erupts around us. I see Mr. Carrera hoist Topper to his feet, and my heart clenches at the sight. Blood is leaking from his nose and a dark rouge colored ring has already begun to form around his eye. When I move forward to help him, John B grabs my arm.

“We have to go. Now.”

My feet planted into the ground, I glance down at his split knuckles, and then back at Topper. Who do I choose? My best friend or my boyfriend?

Voice strained, I turn to John B. “I can’t just leave—”

“HELLO!! Now or never, guys!” JJ is on the dock with Kiara, and Sarah. Pope and Cleo are already in the boat.

“Go!” John B urges, shoving me in front of him. With one last look over my shoulder at Topper’s bloody face, I take off running down the dock with John B behind me.

—

I know he's mad before he even yanks the passenger side door open and drags me by my elbow to the car. Although his scowl and matching black eye are pretty heavy indicators, it's the stalk from the drivers side and around the front of the Jeep that tips me off.

"Get in the car, (y/n)," he barks without so much as a second glance at me.

John B and Pope glance at each other apprehensively. JJ and Kiara share similar looks.

With the passenger side door now open and Topper waiting for me to march myself over there, I hesitantly stand my ground. Anxiously, I swallow back the swell in my throat. "Go home, Top."

He throws his hands up in exasperation and shakes his head. "This—this is fucking ridiculous. Get in the car, (y/n)."

When I don't make a move either way, Cleo speaks up. "Leave her alone, man. She ain't gotta go nowhere wit' you." Her thick accent rings out loud and clear, but Topper pretends as though he doesn't hear her.

Having enough of our back and forth game, Topper strides over and grabs a firm hold of my elbow, intending to move me himself. Although I take a reflexive step backwards, I don't fight him off. At the same time, John B steps forward, ready to give Topper a black eye to match the other.

"John B, no," I immediately blurt out, twisting as best I can in Topper's grasp. "It's fine. It's fine." Sighing I turn back to Topper. "Okay," I relent. "Let's go."

We drive in silence for a while, waiting for the other to speak. I'm half hoping he won't and we'll make the entirety of the trip without uttering a word. Across the seat, we make eye contact and I scowl at him for the split second our eyes meet. Then I turn away and cross my arms with an air of defiance.

When I glance sideways at him, his jaw is clenched, eyes fixed on the road. I know him well enough to know that he's weighing out his options on what to say, determining what kind of conversation we're going to have.

He opens his mouth, starting to say something, then closes it and drags a hand over his jaw. "How many times did I call you?"

I shrug. "I don't know—"

"God dammit, (y/n). How many times did I call you!??" He slams his hand down on the console this time.

"I DON'T KNOW, TOPPER."

I do. Twenty-seven. He called twenty-seven times in addition to the missed texts and multiple question marks. I don't admit that though because it's easier to scream back at him than to admit that I was purposely avoiding his calls.

"You have got to stop hanging around with the wrong people. Start making better decisions." He's lowered his voice to a more appropriate volume now.

I glance over at him, a narrowed look on my face. "Who are you mad at, Topper?" I question. "Because I don't think it's me."

In the drivers seat, he continues to stare ahead at the road. "It's always fucking John B, isn't it. You always have to go to his rescue."

I set my jaw, knowing where his mind is and where this is going. "I didn't sleep with him, Topper."

Topper scoffs as if to make light of the situation. "Oh, for sure. You really expect me to believe that?"

"It's not like that. He's my friend."

We pull into his driveway, and Topper finally turns to me after parking the car. "Yeah? Well I'm your friend too, (y/n). You ever fucking think about that? Why do you think you're not sitting in jail right now with the rest of your so called friends?" He jabs a finger into his chest. "Me. Because I care about you!"

My back pressed up against the passenger side door, all I can do is blink in surprise. I'm not used to Topper yelling at me, and I'm not so sure I like it. I'd never thought about it that way before and guilt begins to creep into the pit of my stomach. My eyes suddenly sting and my nose burns with the threat of tears.

"I'm sorry," I whisper barley audible, my voice cracking.

Topper falls back heavily into his seat and sighs, running a hand over his face. Without a word, he gathers his keys from the truck's ignition and steps out of the car, slamming the door behind him. Teary eyed, I watch him take the steps up the porch and pace up and down the length of it while repeatedly running a frustrated hand through his hair. I get out of his truck and walk up the steps after a few minutes. Confident that he's done yelling but unsure of where we stand at the moment, I stop just short of him.

Hands in his pockets, Topper runs his gaze over me from head to toe after coming to a stop in front of me before he emits another heavy sigh and curls his hand around my jaw, forcing me to look upwards at him. "Answer me when I call you, alright?"

Nodding, I swallow under the weight of his hand as his fingers travel down to my throat. His blue eyes are focused and yet lack their usual jubilance. I nearly whine in relief when he leans down to kiss me.

He tastes fresh, like he always does, a mix between peppermint gum and mint toothpaste. The taste resonates within me a type of unspoken forgiveness that I sense is being granted as his other hand presses my body into his. I can feel the rigid outline of his cock through the thin fabric of his shorts, and it sends my heart racing in anticipation.

The thing about Topper is that he's always been able to read me impossibly well, and so when he disconnects our mouths by using the leverage of his hand on my throat to hold me back, he chuckles airily. "Feel me? That's what you do to me, you little tease."

I paw at him, grabbing at the waistband of his shorts to pull his body closer. Topper is nearly a foot taller than me, and I have to crane my neck to look up at him.

"I'm sorry, Top."

He hums, the thumb of his hand moving to tug at the swollen pout of my bottom lip. "Are you? He's only giving me a hard time now, not even allowing me to answer before his thumb slips into my mouth, pressing down on my tongue. "Going to be good for me then?"

The weight of his thumb is so soothingly familiar that I forget to respond in favor of suckling around the digit.

"Baby." He's quick to remind me, drawing his thumb from my mouth and swiping it wetly across my cheek to grip my jaw again.

My flushed cheeks forced into a pout, I nod as much as his hold on me will allow. "Mhm."

Topper glances over his shoulder, briefly surveying the closed blinds of the windows looking out on to the front porch, and then back to me.

"Alright, on your knees, pretty girl."

He doesn't have to ask twice. He's undoing his belt with one experienced hand and gathering a fist full of my hair at the back of my head with the other. Once removed from the confines of his boxers, his cock bobs at the freedom.

If there's one thing myself and multiple other girls in the Outer Banks can attest to, it's that sucking off Topper Thornton is a pleasure. I'd heard the rumors whispered around school even before we started dating. It was weird at the time, having to hear that kind of thing about my best friend, but once we started dating, I understood where they were coming from. With some guys, blowing them is an outright chore, but not Topper. He knows exactly what he's working with and how to use it.

Once again, he's heavy in my mouth. This time in a pleasurably aching way. His tip nudges the back of my throat, and I have to remind myself to relax and breathe through my nose as tears spring to my eyes. He swipes away a stray tear before it can fall.

"There you go, baby. Good."

He doesn't buck up into my throat, forcing me to gag and sputter as I try to accommodate his length — at least not this time. Topper just fists my hair and rocks slowly back and forth, eyes rolling as my throat clenches around him. My nose nearly digs into his pelvis by the time he's satisfied that his cock is nestled as far as it can get into the heat of my throat.

With the makeshift ponytail, Topper pulls almost all of the way out of my mouth before guiding himself back in. Each time the mushroomed tip kisses the back of my throat, he pulls his cock out of my mouth again. All it takes is a few good strokes before he's spilling into my mouth, moaning while I struggle to take him all. He pulls out when he's finished.

"Swallow," he instructs, tilting my jaw back so that I have but one option. Not that I would argue with him anyhow. I'm used to how he tastes, salty and strangely satisfying, His hot release slides down my throat. At first I would have wrinkled my nose at the thought of such a thing, but strangely, I've become accustomed to the taste. It's uniquely Topper, as odd as that sounds.

He helps me to my feet and plants another slow kiss to my swollen lips. I keen at the attention, my brain feeling sluggish and wishing he would just wrap his large hand around my throat again.

"I love you," he finally murmurs, pressing a find kiss to my forehead; a stark contrast to his manhandling moments before.

"Love you too."

Around us, the porch goes dark for a split second and I bolt into Topper's arms before the lights flicker back on. This repeats a few more times; long enough for us to realize that his dad is likely on the other side of the front door.

Topper groans. "Shit."

"Shit."

#rafe outer banks #outer banks #obx3 #obx x reader #obx imagine #rafe cameron #topper thornton #topper thorton smut #topper thorton imagine #topper x reader #topper thorton x reader #topper obx #topper smut

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lieutenantfloyd · 1 year

Text

Last Minute - Alejandro Vargas

Alejandro Vargas x Reader

Summary: Moments before heading out on a major mission, Alejandro realizes now might be his last chance to confess the feeling’s he’s been harboring for years.

Author’s Note: This game (and Alejandro in particular) has me in a chokehold.

Shifting your weight from foot to foot, you finished assembling your weapons. Sliding your handgun into its holster, you noticed how the entire team was in your vicinity, preparing their own weapons for what lay ahead. Your eyes quickly met Soap’s who made his way over and patted you on the back with a smile.

“I guess this is it, huh?” The Scotsman asked.

“I think so.” You answered matter of factly.

Both you and Soap stood in silence, wrestling with the gravity of what you were preparing to do. Moments passed before Soap sent you a confident nod and headed over to the armory.

It was only due to your eyes following Soap as he left that you noticed Alejandro standing far off from everyone else. Even from his position on the farthest end of the room, he was painfully, earth-shatteringly handsome, and he’d clearly been watching you for a while. Your heart leaped at the thought. He made quick work of crossing the prep room and was soon standing in front of you. Instantly you could tell something had caused his usual calm and confident demeanor had cracked. His deep brown eyes locked with yours, and you saw the tormented swirl of internal struggle before he steeled his gaze.

“Can I speak to you… In private?” He asked in an almost wavering voice.

“Of course.” You replied as confidently as you could. Still trying to figure out what had him so rattled.

He simply nodded at your response and turned to move. His pace had you nearly jogging as he led you away from the others.

Less than 60 seconds later, he ushered you into a small room and pushed you against the wall to the right of the door. He closed the door just as quickly as he’d entered the room, slightly dampening the sounds of helicopters and countless soldiers preparing to deploy. He settled into staring down at you, one hand on the wall above your head while the other rested on your shoulder. Your breathing became uneven having him this close to you, yet even in this position, there wasn’t a flicker of fear in your body. You knew without a doubt that Alejandro would never lay a malicious finger on you, let alone hurt you, but that didn’t quell the question floating around in your mind.

What did he bring you in here for?

The room was cramped and somewhat dark, but you could still make out his features with the help of the orange-hued light coming through the window. His voice, low and hurried, pulled your focus onto him and him alone.

“We don’t have much time, but I need you to listen to me, okay? Whatever happens out there today, I need you to know I am so very in love with you. I’ve been this way for years, and as much as I try mi amor, I cannot stop loving you.” His gaze dropped and he shakes his head, trying to collect his thoughts. A beat of silence passes. The words he’s already spoken linger heavily in the air.

You were supposed to be a war-hardened soldier. Cold, calculated, and loyal to no one but your own squadron. Yet his eyes held a softness that completely shattered the illusion you’d spent years so carefully building. Just then you heard Rudy calling Alejandro’s name from beyond the door, and you knew that your moment to confess had passed. He softly slammed his hand into the wall above your head, before pushing away from you and running his fingers through his dark hair. With one last look, he exited the room. Leaving you in an all-encompassing silence. Now alone, you sunk into the wall pressing against your back. The conversation had left you rattled, not because you didn’t share his feelings, but because of how dire your current situation really was. Here all of you were, moments before being shipped out to battle, and all you That’s ignoring the reality that the chances of all of you returning home were dwindling by the second. Steadying your breath, you left the room and headed off to join the rest of the task force.

As Ghost directed everyone to their assigned vehicle, Instead searching for a glimpse of Alejandro’s dark hair. By sheer luck, he was standing guard by the main truck. You waited anxiously for Ghost to give you your orders, praying that Alejandro wouldn’t leave before you got the chance to tell him how you really feel. Minutes stretched on until Ghost pointed to you and the rest of 141 and directed you toward the main truck. Pushing past your fellow soldiers, you fell in step with the task force. You let everyone enter the truck before you, hoping to get one last second with Alejandro. Your hand had just touched the door handle when you spotted your chance. Still holding it, you shifted to the side and tapped his arm with your free hand. He turned to you curiously, as if he didn’t just confess his love to you less than 10 minutes ago. Suppressing a smile you leaned in close enough so only he could hear your words. Relishing the hint of his cologne the position offered.

“We have even less time now, but I need you to know the feeling is very mutual.”

#a.vargas #alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #cod x you #alejandro x reader #mw2 #cod mw2 #call of duty

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justmochi · 4 months

Text

eunbyeol

pairing :: eden x evelyn

word count :: 3.8k

synopsis :: eden's sister goes into labor

time :: december 19-20, 2023

warnings :: angst, mentions of pregnancies, giving birth, medicine, etc

a/n :: i apologize if this is not 100% medically accurate. i have never given birth myself and am going off what i’ve researched and have witnessed 🫡

taglist :: @cafemilk-tea @cixrosie @moonlight-additions @cosmicwintr @astraw-astro @ateezjuliet @fromfreesia @succulentmom @kimhyejin3108 @enhacolor @multiplums @alixnsuperstxr @meginthebuilding2727 @kang-ulzzang @hybesunstone @allthings-fandoms @itzy-eve @choihaneul @strmiu @angie-x3 @Kaitieskidmore1 @evaalopezzzz

Eden stares at her dark under eyes in the mirror as she brushes her teeth. She sees her phone budging slightly on the counter before hearing it vibrating. When she sees who’s calling her is Noah, her heart immediately sinks to the pits of her stomach.

Noah is not the type to just call Eden. So when he does call, it is usually something serious and necessary that is not fit to be told over text.

She quickly answers. “Hold on,” Her jaw juts forward to hold in her toothpaste as she slurs her words before spitting it out into the sink. She wipes her mouth with a towel before speaking. “Noah? Is everything okay?”

“Eden, well uhh,” He hesitates as if the words he’s trying to say are all scrambled out of order and he needs to put them back in place. “Evelyn’s water kind of broke.”

“Oh shit. Just now? What does ‘kind of’ mean?” Her body acts on its own, speed walking to her closet and pulling out a bag.

“Not kind of. Sorry. Her water has definitely broken. All over the kitchen floor an hour ago.” His words are protruding and Eden knows he is freaking out. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner–”

“Hey, don’t apologize, it’s fine. This is your first child, it’s okay to be a little nervous. You’re at the hospital now?”

“Yeah, we just got settled in our room. Well, not really settled but she is all hooked up and stuff, so I stepped out to call you. I guess she’s been wanting me to call you ever since we left the house but if I’m being honest, I can’t remember anything from the last hour. Not even dinner. I must have blacked out.”

“That’s okay, you’re there now. Is it alright for me to come?” Eden wouldn’t know what to say or do if Noah had told her no.

“Absolutely. She needs and wants you here more than anybody. I want you here too, even if it’s for my own sanity.”

Despite her heart beating out of her chest and the hairs on her head prickling her scalp, it’s endearing to hear him say that. She can tell by the way he’s speaking that he needs someone to lean on right now.

“I know. I’m packing a bag and then I’ll be on my way. Can I do anything for you? Do you need coffee?”

“Oh yeah, coffee would be fantastic. Thank you, Eden.”

“No problem. See you soon. And Noah?”

He pauses for a moment before answering her. “Yeah?”

“Everything is gonna be okay. Take a second to catch your breath because Ev cannot do this without you here in the present.”

There’s another moment of silence as he takes in everything she just said. He exhales and Eden can hear how shakey his breathing is.“Okay. Thank you, Eden.”

She almost wants to stay on the phone with him while she’s on her way to the hospital but she knows he needs to let what she said to him sit for a while. She packs essentials that she’ll need for a few days since Noah and her will be the only family supporting Evelyn until after the holidays. Their parents wanted to visit around her due date but plans fell through and they could only come after New Years.

It had been a few years since Eden had been back in a hospital. It was difficult trying to navigate the building, finding the right elevators and whatnot. She thought she would feel sick but the maternity ward feels oddly cozy to her. That is until Noah comes into view. He’s kneeled in front of Evelyn’s room, his back against the wall as he rotates the wedding band on his finger.

“Noah!” Eden calls out and he shoots to his feet. Her heart aches when she can finally see him up close. He is pale, sweaty, and in obvious distress. No one would be surprised if he came out of this experience with forehead wrinkles.

“Hey.” His voice trembles and before he has time to process it, Eden is wrapping him into a big hug. He is tense and shaking, which makes her tighten her grip. He hesitates before hugging her back. It’s the last thing he thought he would ever need.

“Are you doing okay?”

“Well, I… not really.” Eden lets go of him to get a good look at him.

“What’s wrong?” She frowns with her eyebrows drawing together.

“I am so scared. She didn’t want the epidural, and she says she’s fine and wants nature to take its course, but god, she’s in so much pain. I know she is.” His voice breaks and she starts to feel tears well in her eyes. “For as long as I’ve known her, I’ve never seen her in this much physical pain. She’s trying to hide it but I know. I feel so helpless.”

“I know. For months she’s been telling me that she’s been debating on getting an epidural. Evelyn is a very strong woman. Even without the epidural, she will come out of this perfectly fine. You’re doing great, Noah. It’s going to be alright. Is this all that’s bothering you?”

He sighs, rubbing his face with his palms. “It’s never just one thing. I’m scared seeing her in pain, knowing I can do absolutely nothing about it or to take it away from her. I’m scared that watching her writhing in agony is gonna haunt my dreams for the rest of my life. I am so scared to be a father. I’m scared there’s gonna be more complications than the doctor is letting on. I am so scared that she will resent me for this.”

“Noah, look at me.” Eden snaps her fingers, crossing her arms and looking up at him intently. He complies, pressing his fingers into his palms. “We both know how stubborn she is. She wants nothing more in this life than to start a family, and with you. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her complain once. She’s seen the beauty in all of this, even the parts that most women would hate. She could never resent you, especially not for this. You’ve given her the one thing she’s wanted her entire life. She picked you to build the rest of her life with. This will be the hardest part but I know she’s excited to finally meet the joy you’ve created together. We just have to be there for her and try our best to make it easier for her, okay?”

She looks up at him, waiting for him to nod before patting him on the back. “Let’s go in then.”

Noah pulls the door open for her and she’s met with a spacious room. A nurse is charting, blocking her view of her sister until she steps closer. Evelyn is gripping the hospital bed, her face contorted in pain with her eyes shut. She’s trying to act like she’s fine but she is fooling no one. She’s making her best effort not to make any noise, even forgetting to breathe while she’s at it. She is so tense, completely unaware of the fact that Noah had stepped back in and Eden stands before her.

Noah was right. Eden has never seen her in this kind of distress ever. Not even the times she doubled over in pain from period cramps or trying to make sense of her body’s inability to make a child.

“Evelyn?” Eden rests her hand over her sister’s white knuckles. When she opens her eyes, she manages to force a smile.

“Eden, you’re here.”

“Of course I’m here.” Eden leans down, wrapping one of her arms around her sister and doing her best to be gentle. “How are you doing?”

“Never been better.” Lie.

“I can see that.” She raises her eyebrows. She feels Noah tap on her shoulder, letting her know he pulled a chair up next to the bed. “Are you ready?”

Evelyn rolls her eyes and they both know that her answer is no.

They spend the next hour catching up, trying to distract Evelyn from her pain for just a little while. They make light of her water soaking the entire kitchen floor, no matter how embarrassing it is. Her sister eventually zones out of their conversation, leaving Eden and Noah to talk about things that have been happening recently. She doesn’t tell them, but she is thankful that they can provide her a little distraction to keep her here in the present.

But as the hours progress into the night, Evelyn’s pain intensifies. It’s becoming extremely difficult for Eden, Noah, especially her nurses to watch. But she is still insistent on no epidural. Even when her nurses tell her their own experience with epidurals and how much it helps, her sister cannot be convinced.

Eden decides to keep quiet for the sake of her sister, no matter how much it hurts to see her in pain. She can see how overwhelming it would be from her point of view to be talked into something she swore she wouldn’t get. She knows that Evelyn wants that sense of normalcy and authenticity for her birth. She can’t tell if she’s doing this to hang on to her independence or her pride, maybe even both.

A nurse asks Evelyn one more time before she excuses herself from the room, saying she’ll be back to check in. Eden waits till the door latches to get up from her chair, approaching the bedside to brush her fingers through her sister's hair. She leans down, kissing her forehead and paying no mind to the layer of sweat.

“Ev…” She smiles down at her, masking her own uneasiness from watching her.

“Eden.”

“You know, It’s okay if you want the epidural. No one's gonna shame you for getting it.” She pushes the hair stuck to her forehead back, tears forming in her eyes.

Eden feels terrible once Evelyn turns her head from her, her chest shaking as she begins to cry. She worries that she might’ve said the wrong thing. Noah quickly drags the swivel chair to her bedside, sitting down and grabbing his wife’s hand. He kisses the back of her hand before bringing it to his cheek, his own eyes becoming glassy.

Eden wipes her sister's tears away, her hand falling to rub her shoulder. “Why don’t you want it? It’s hard for us to see you like this.”

Evelyn does her best to collect herself so her words can be heard clearly. “I..I don’t know, I just—there’s so many pros and cons—I’m just so scared. I thought i was ready but I am so fucking scared, Eden. I don’t know if I can do this–”

“No, hey hey,” Noah envelops her hand in both of his palms, trying to stay strong. “You’re doing amazing. I’ve never been more proud of someone than I am of you right now.”

Eden smiles, quickly swiping her own tears away so her sister can’t see. “See? The fact that you’ve been doing all of this unmedicated for hours is mind-blowing.”

Evelyn squeezes her eyes shut, her crying only making her pain worse. “I don’t want to take the easy way out. I want to be brave.”

“Oh, Evelyn.” Eden drags a chair up to the bed, sitting down and holding her other hand. “You’re the bravest person we know. Look at everything you’ve been through from the day you were born. You are everything I aspire to be. All the trial and errors you both have been through to get to this moment is unthinkable. Getting an epidural does not discredit you from all you’ve had to endure up to this point. I think you deserve that much. This will be the hardest and greatest thing you go through, medicated or unmedicated. I will support whatever you choose to do because once this is all over, you will have gone through all the obstacles to give birth to a beautiful child that you both worked so hard to create, and you will be the best mother ever.”

The three share tears and Evelyn squeezes both their hands with all she has left in her. She cries harder after Eden has finished talking, only adding fuel to her pain. She takes two minutes to calm herself down, and another three for the words to sit and digest in her mind. When she’s finally ready, she opens her eyes and nods her head at both of them.

“Do you want it?” Noah’s eyes are red and her cheeks are stained from tears, but anyone can see the look of hopefulness in his features.

Evelyn can only nod. She watches her husband and sister release some of the tension in their bodies as she confirms it.

“It’s all gonna be okay, Ev.” Eden stands to her feet, leaning forward to kiss her temple. “I’m glad you said yes because this is the worst I’ve seen Noah ever. If you waited any longer, I was afraid he’d be hospitalized as well.”

Evelyn tries her best to keep from laughing but it’s no use. She snorts, covering her mouth and clutching her bump. Her face turns sour as she tries to minimize her laughing. “She’s right, honey. You look terrible.”

“Hey!” He lays his head flat on the bed, covering his face.

“He’s gonna be the type to pass out when you start to push.” Eden jokes.

Noah huffs, kissing Evelyn’s knuckles despite how embarrassed he is. “I’ll go tell the nurse.”

He leaves to hunt down the nurse, leaving Eden and Evelyn by themselves. They look at each other as soon as the door shuts and start laughing.

“Please don’t make me laugh. It hurts!” Evelyn inhales and exhales with her eyes closed to calm herself down.

“Sorry, sorry.” She makes her best efforts to stop laughing. When they both are back to normal, Eden can feel her heart ache from how much she cherishes her family. “I love you, I’m so proud of you.”

She began to grow worried as nurses and the doctor kept coming in and out of Evelyn’s room. She took no offense when her sister kicked her out of the room when it was time for her to push. She wanted to preserve the little bit of modesty she had left.

Noah hadn’t peeked his head out once to give her an update. She wasn’t sure why she was hoping for one when she knew that they were both on edge for the birth of their first child. So she roamed.

She went down to the lobby, coming across the gift shop that was just opening up.

“We’re opening, you can come on in!” The young woman smiled at Eden, gesturing inside. She didn’t realize she was staring into the window.

“Sorry, thank you.”

She only went in to look and managed to come out of the gift shop with two bags of items. She set her things down at a vacant table, taking a seat and staring off again. She felt pressure in her chest and she knew if she didn’t hear anything in the next hour, she would start freaking out. She set her purse on the surface, laying it out and pressing her cheek against the leather. She intended to count her breaths, but instead dozed off for 30 minutes.

Eden finally heard her phone ring, feeling the vibrations from inside her purse. She shuddered awake fast enough to give her a headache before searching her bag for her phone and answering.

“Hello?”

Noah sighed through the phone. “Hey, Eden. Sorry, I didn’t mean to leave–”

“It’s okay. It’s alright. How is she? Is everything okay?”

“Everything is perfect. She’s good. A little low on oxygen right now but she did it. I came out to grab you but you were gone. Are you ready?”

She grabbed her things, trying her best to walk as fast as she could without running, in fear that a hospital staff would scold her for rushing. “I was just in the lobby. I’m on my way.”

When she made it back to the maternity ward, Noah made it easier on her behalf when she saw him waiting at the elevators for her. He had a little bit of color to his face again, but he looked more drained this time.

He ushered her to her sister’s room. He took a deep breath before pushing and holding the door open for her. When she stepped in, she swore her heart stopped beating for a moment. She walked forward until Evelyn came into view, holding her newborn.

She gasped, dropping her bags carefully to the floor. The baby started cooing and Eden quickly covered her mouth with both hands, not realizing how loud her gasp actually was. Evelyn looked up with a smile on her face and that’s when Eden could feel the tears start to form.

“Evelyn, oh my god.” She whispered against her hands, slowly approaching the hospital bed.

“I know.” Her sister looked down at her child, running her thumb across the baby’s cheek.

Eden held her breath, holding her hair to one side as she leaned forward to get a closer look.

“Park Eunbyeol.”

Her eyes widened more, looking at her sister as the tears finally fell down her cheeks. “A girl?”

“Eunbyeol Evangeline Park. Born at 7:14am. Six pounds.” She tapped her fingers along the blanket that was swaddled around her.

“I-i don’t know what to say.” Eden’s lips quivered, pressing a kiss to Evelyn’s temple. “I mean, you look fucking–”

She stopped herself, sealing her lips shut once she realized she cursed.

“It’s fine. You should’ve heard all the profanities I was saying earlier.” Evelyn chuckled, causing Eunbyeol to stir in her arms. “Do you want to hold her?”

In her mind, the answer was already yes. She thought that it was maybe too soon for her to hold her yet. “Ev, I…”

“Come on, she wants her aunt to hold her.”

“I can’t possibly–”

“Eden, there is nothing I want more right now than to see my baby sister holding her little baby niece. Hold her before Noah snatches her away and neither of us can get her back.” She held Eden’s attention with a stern expression.

“Hey…” Noah pouted from behind Eden.

“I don’t know how… to hold a baby. What if I drop her?” She felt her hands start to sweat, her eyebrows sinking to a frown.

“You’re not going to drop her. Hold her like I am. See?” Evelyn nudged her head down, patting her hand against the baby blanket. Eden looked back at Noah, hoping he would show any objection, but he raised his eyebrows to encourage her.

She was so ready to be an aunt, she was counting down the days to Evelyn’s due date. Now that the time has finally come, she feels scared. She’s not afraid of Eunbyeol. She is more fearful that the second she holds her niece, she will begin to cry. She’s terrified it will shatter her trust in herself and ultimately establish her compatibility with children.

Eden pursed her lips, reaching her arms out to slip underneath Eunbyeol’s blanket. She is so careful with the baby, like she is the most fragile person on the face of the earth.

Eunbyeol coos from feeling the loss of her mother, but easing back into her peaceful state in seconds. Eden mimics the way her sister was holding her a moment ago. To her surprise, she fits in her arms just perfectly.

Eden studies her niece’s features, starting with the soft cotton of her hat. Her cheeks are flushed pink and she takes on Noah’s warm toned skin. She has the cutest nose and lips, shaped just like her mother’s. She sees the tiniest bit of hair sticking out from her hat.

She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until Eunbyeol opened her eyes, babbling as her tongue stuck out to press against her lips. That single noise alone was enough to bring her emotions to the surface. She couldn’t believe how calm she was for being held by a new person. Eden’s muscles relaxed and she clearly felt how tense she was in the moment. She pouted her lips, holding back her cries as more tears welled up in her eyes.

“Oh my god.” She whispered to herself, adjusting the blanket so she could see more of her face. “Ev, she’s perfect.”

“That’s all I’ve been saying since I met her.” She smiled, picking up her cup of ice chips while her hands were free. “She likes you.”

She looked back at her, feeling a little more hopeful. “You think?”

“I know. Call it mother’s intuition.”

Eden turned back to Eunbyeol, holding her in her arms and studying her mannerisms. “She’s so sweet. I just want to pinch her cheeks.”

Noah snickered, taking a seat beside the bed and beginning to massage Evelyn’s legs. She yawned, the exhaustion catching up to her from giving birth.

“Honey, why don’t you get us all some breakfast before I go into hibernation?” She tugged a stray strand of his hair. She pouted her lips into a frown, knowing he couldn’t resist her requests when she made that specific face.

“Are you two gonna be okay by yourselves?”

“Of course! Please, I’m starving.”

They all agreed on a food, leaving Eden and Evelyn together with Eunbyeol.

“It’s too bad he doesn’t get to have his N name legacy.” Eden joked, slowly rocking the girl in her arms.

“I think he completely forgot about it. All he wants is for both of his girls to be happy and healthy.” Evelyn tried to turn her body towards her sister. “It was so hectic. I thought he was going to pass out at one point.”

Eden pursed her lips, trying not to laugh too hard to disturb the baby. Her lips curled upwards as she traced imaginary lines of Eunbyeol with her eyes. “She’s so beautiful. I think I could watch her like this for hours.”

“Wait till you have a baby of your own.” She spoke softly with a smile.

Her mind wandered for a second, daydreaming about what having her own child would be like. She is positive that she’ll be immensely attached to them. She’s having a hard time even beginning to fathom what her sister feels when she looks at her daughter. She imagines it’s what Eden is feeling right now, but times an infinity.

She thought she had the tears at bay, but she could feel them escape once again.

“What’s wrong?” Evelyn reached out to stroke her head.

“I’m just… so happy for you. For the both of you. I know how difficult it’s been. No one deserves this more than you. She’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

“Trust me, I know. She pouted, swiping her tears away before they could fall down her face. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

“Sorry. Being sleep deprived makes me emotional.”

“You can try taking a nap on Noah’s bed.” She pointed towards the pull out bed. It looked anything but comfortable.

“Yeah…I’ll pass.”

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