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#hoping to get it done by january possibly.
freezethebeez · 2 years
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Did you base the catalyst vampires off of other vampires in the media? Or, whats some catalyst universe specific vampire “quirks” or design choices? Lol sorry, got brain rot
the vampires in catalyst aren't really based off of any particular piece of media. they're sort of a strange amalgamation of every vampire au i've ever read, any tv shows or movies (aka twilight and first kill), plus my own little quirky details for the sake of plot.
any of the details i'm going to list below are catalyst specific according to me, but if anyone else has ever done them that's cool, i just didn't know.
vampires can go 2 years without drinking a drop of blood before they die of starvation, similar to how humans can go 2 weeks without food, just elongated to match a vampire's lifespan
most vampires feed once every month, which is less than twilight (i think) and most other vampire au's i've read, although i don't think many of them had specific hunger schedules. oh yeah it's also less than in the sims 4, if the vampire pack counts as vampire media lol
vampires aren't immortal. i gave them an age limit of 1000 because immortality is overrated anyway plus death is kinda nice sometimes. gives you a time limit. idk there was vsauce video about it that i watched once and haven't really stopped thinking about.
humans cannot be turned into vampires. if i were to implement that, though, the turning process would be drain all human blood, replace with a bit of vampire blood, yipee ur dead but also not, which just wasn't conventional and wouldn't be used in plot so i threw that whole concept out the window
vampires sleep during the day and wake up when the sun sets. i've read this in another vampire au, but am including it in this list anyway because twilight went "yeah vampires can chill during the day." however, if catalyst vampires could go out in the sun, i think all the sun would do is drain their energy and make them tired lol
for the first 40 years of a full vampire's life (20 for half-vamps), they can't fully see. i have another ask somewhere on here explaining how the process works, as well as other details.
fangs showing up only when needed isn't super original i don't think, but the whole warming of the skin when hungry thing is just a catalyst thing, i'm pretty sure.
also, like, vampires with eating disorders. i've never seen that anywhere else lol.
vampires being able to give birth (technically, minus all the issues that come with it) is also a catalyst thing i think??? idk i've only seen the first twilight movie so if vampire birth is in there.... whoops
vampires being entirely dead pretty much. no working organs, breathing isn't necessary, can't eat human food (unless the specific food holds essentially zero nutritional value), are also things i haven't seen in au's or media
vampires are just straight up a completely different species; they're not a subspecies of human. now, this would be a little weird for vampire-human... uh... breeding (i'm so sorry) but since vampires look so much like humans it's not really a big deal i guess
long story short i pretty much just went "what if we had humans and gave them fangs and a really long lifespan and then we gave one of them a shit ton of mental illness" and ran with that.
as for design choices, they're very similar to the typical vampire: pale skin, human-looking, fangs sometimes. eye colour doesn't really change if they're hungry, their pupils just get a little wider. skin tones can range from white as white can be to a dark grey, and eye colour can be anything, it just depends on the vampire and their genes, however the fuck genes work (i didn't take biology lol)
i've been meaning to write all this vampire lore out for a while, so i may be missing a few things in my list. catalyst (just like syzygy, another c!beeduo au of mine) was supposed to be a 2k one shot containing a silly little idea i had. instead, it bursted into this big, multi-chapter story, which isn't something i do often, so little things like specific details about the setting and all that other stuff aren't really thought out, because initially they really didn't need to be and i was too busy working out the plot to go back over and add those things. i'm a bit of a mess when it comes to writing longer pieces tbh.
now while catalyst may be my magnum opus, i am still– at my very core– just a silly little guy writing about minecraft men.
all the love and support has been insane, though, and i have appreciated it more than anything. it's the thing that keeps me going honestly. all the asks have helped me develop the world just a little bit more, and the insight i've been able to get, like how well my foreshadowing worked and how suspenseful i made each chapter, has helped tons as well.
the mere concept of people actively perceiving the things i put out onto the internet is crazy enough to me, so to have people thinking about my silly little fic and brainrotting about it makes me feel a little less silly (dw anon, i am also heavily brainrotting).
ty for the ask, and sorry for the essay of a response. the only vampire media i've consumed is twilight, first kill, and about 2 or 3 other fics, all from different fandoms (i'm not a big media consumer tbh), but i hope this suffices :]
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aqune · 1 year
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ok NOW i have no more school work at all. Ever.
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yoonia · 2 months
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A Christmas Fix — 01 (m) | kth
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⟶ Summary | One-night stands are supposed to be nothing more than just. It shouldn’t have involved seeing those two red lines looking back at you weeks later without a name or a contact number linking you back to your mystery man. Nothing more but his face. The unforgettable face that would sometimes appear in your dreams at night. So unforgettable that you immediately recognise him the moment he walks into your family home at Christmas, hand-in-hand with your older stepsister.
With special collab prompt: "the holidays aren't so bad with you around."
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⟶ Title | A Christmas Fix
⟶ Pairings | Taehyung x female reader
⟶ Genre | Secret Baby!au, Second Chance!au, Strangers to Lovers!au
⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; including: alcohol consumption, mentions of pregnancy, vomiting/morning sickness, surprise babies, miscommunication, profanities/swearing, minor body insecurities (implied), some family drama; involves multiple explicit sex scenes, including: sexual tension, one night stand, drunk sex (with clear consent), minor dom/sub dynamic, brat!reader, size kink, rough sex, light choking, restraint, hair pulling (M, F), protected & unprotected sex, fingering (F), oral sex (F), clit play, breast play, stripping, biting, minor hand job/groping, grinding, masturbation (M, F), dirty talk, implied pain kink, praise kink, body worship, marking, multiple orgasms (M, F), overstimulation.
⟶ Word count | 25,363 words (of 54,773 words)
⟶ Story Notes | Part of the Jingle All the Way collaboration with @leahsfavefics, @kithtaehyung, @kpopfanfictrash, @cybrsan, and @sugaurora | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs) | Moodboard was done by me | Posted in: January 31st, 2024 by @yoonia
⟶ Author Notes | I know that this is so late, but December has always been a rough month for me and this time it continued until January. I hope you can still enjoy this story regardless. Happy belated holidays and happy new year, my loves!
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⟶ Jingle All the Way collab masterlist | A Christmas Fix: next chapter ⇢
⟶ Main Masterlist | Taglist | Feedback | Mailbox | Ko-fi
⟶ Read on AO3
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One month ago…
You already had everything perfectly planned out when you first thought of this trip some long months ago. 
Everything. 
From your personal bucket list full of wonderful things that you wanted to experience during your time away and the places that you wanted to see, down to the smallest details that you could possibly think of to be able to enjoy every single moment of your secret getaway.
Just like the red dress that you had chosen to wear tonight. The dress you had meticulously picked and bought to wear on the trip as you went to celebrate your newfound freedom. 
In your well-thought-out plan, you were supposed to have landed on the tropical island you were headed to by sundown. The warm tropical breeze should have been embracing you at the start of your trip instead of the cold, chilly wind flowing right outside these walls. 
By this evening, you should have already settled in nicely in the comfort of your hotel room right by the beachside. The calming sound of the rushing waves outside your window was the sound that you should have been listening to while resting from your long flight. 
You had pictured yourself embracing your freedom in a foreign land. To feel the soft sand slipping between your toes as you were playing chase with the rushing waves, and to find calmness that you could only get far away from the treacherous city where you came from. 
The trip was meant to help you mend your soul. Perfectly planned out as an escape from reality and leave all of your past hurt behind before starting a new chapter of your life. 
And yet, no matter how thoroughly you had it all planned out, somehow life simply found a way to mess it all up. Just like how it had always been. So perhaps you shouldn’t have been so surprised when it happened to you again, just when you thought that you had everything under control. 
You should have seen the signs long before everything started crumbling down.
The sky that kept growing darker ever since you left the city. The constant turbulences happening during your first flight that made the trip feel intense. The unsettling feeling you met the moment you landed in this place for your transit. The constant announcements echoing through the airport about flights that were getting delayed and cancelled while you were getting no news about your transit flight’s departure. 
You should have been prepared to face reality, keeping in mind that life hadn’t been so nice to you lately to let you slip away that easily. Yet your stubbornness prevailed. And after your most recent predicament, you needed this trip to happen. You needed to be right. 
After all, you have made it all the way here. It would have been impossible for you to return home, wouldn’t it?
So you remained in denial and were so stubbornly holding onto hope that you would soon be taken away from this place towards your dream destination. Even when the world around you seemed to be falling apart. 
But after long hours of waiting, you were finally forced to accept your fate, letting go of any hope you had left to escape this place when they officially cancelled the rest of today’s flights due to unresolved weather issues. Including yours.
“I’m sorry, but we really can’t promise you anything at this moment. There will be no flights until the storm passes and our pilots are cleared to fly again. Until then, we have nothing to tell you.” 
The staff’s swift response to your inquiries about getting on the first flight available to take you to your destination only left you with a dead end. Even flying back home was no longer an option, only because that would only mean that you were admitting defeat. 
And that was how you ended up here tonight, stranded right between the daunting city that you called home and the paradise that you wished to be in until an unforeseeable future. Your dream of enjoying the night in the comfort of the beachside hotel room overlooking the wide, clear ocean, had been replaced with the reality where you had to spend overnight at the airport’s transit hotel that the airline staff helped book for you. 
You released a sigh as you leaned back against the elevator wall. Recounting the events again only brought back all the terrible mood you were having. And it didn’t help that the last message that your roommate sent you only reminded you of your setback. 
From Skye: Just checking on you on your secret getaway. I hope you’re having a blast right now. I wish you’d tell me where you’re heading so I can have a good reason to be jealous. Be safe!
Another sigh came from your lips as you wondered—
Now how am I supposed to answer her text? 
Before you could find an answer, the elevator doors opened as it reached the lobby downstairs. You put away your phone as you stepped out, and immediately got lost in your thoughts. Your mind once again getting too loud as it keeps you company. 
At first, you had no intention of hiding this trip from her. Yet all the circumstances leading to this weekend had made it hard for you to share anything to anyone.
You were planning to wait until you were finally there so you could surprise her with pictures from the beautiful beach or your comfortable hotel room. Showing her the pretty nighttime scene from the tropical island would have been a nice way to flaunt your secret getaway rather than boasting it when your fate had been filled with uncertainty. 
But instead of having an evening walk down the beach, you were trudging across the lobby inside an airport hotel, accompanied by the sound of your heels clicking on the marble floors instead of having sand soiling your feet. 
And the view outside the window that you got to see earlier had been nowhere close to the pretty beach with its white sand and rolling waves. Instead, you had a clear view of the dark night sky, painted with the raging storm and its blaring thunders so strong they almost caused the entire bedroom to shake. Neither showed any sign of calming down any time soon, leaving you with no other choice but to do what you could to enjoy your temporary stay.
And you were going to start doing so by having a quick drink to help you unwind for the night. 
The red dress that you were wearing might seem a bit excessive for a nightcap, but for a short while, it helped you forget where you were. It felt almost as if you were walking in a dream as you strolled down the lower lobby in search of the hotel bar. 
Entering the hotel bar, however, became another wake-up call. 
The bar was quite large for a transit hotel, accommodating the patrons filling the place tonight. You had hoped that you could have a dance or two with a friendly stranger before retreating to your hotel room to rest, yet the closed-off lounge area had more space filled with box seats than the open dance floor. The seating area was the only place in the bar which was dimly lit, allowing the guests some privacy while they settled in with their drinks. 
The small chandeliers glittering from the ceiling were far from the hanging lights that you pictured hanging in a beachside bar. Just like the one place you had seen pictures of while planning for your trip. The lights you were seeing here made the entire space beneath seem luxurious, spreading a soft golden glow over the wary faces trying to enjoy the night. 
The pulsing bass that came out of the speakers was enough to drown the sound of the violent storm happening on the other side of these walls, further helping to create an illusion that you were in another place. That you were somewhere else instead of being stranded inside an airport hotel, together with all the strangers who seemed to be facing the same fate as you did. 
You made your way towards the main bar, suddenly feeling hyperaware of your surroundings. Even without looking, you could feel people’s eyes following your movements. Yet you paid no heed to them. You were only here to quiet down the raging storm happening inside your head, after all. 
A strong scent of old wood took over the bar area. Mixed in with the excessive scent of air fresheners and cleaners, it was enough to remind you that you were miles and miles away from the beautiful island where you had been so desperate to be. 
Smoothing your palms down your red dress, you took one empty seat at the bar. You caught the bartender’s eyes as he walked past, and within moments, a glass of strawberry daiquiri ended up in your hand. 
This feels nice, you wondered to yourself as you sat back and tried to relax.
One sip of the sweet alcoholic drink was all that it took to refresh your mind. As the warmth from your drink ran smoothly through your body, any doubt and wariness you felt began to fade. 
The next sip of the drink managed to ease your thoughts down a bit more. It helped push away the reminders of your troubles to the back of your mind. Finding calmness, you took another quick look at your surroundings.
The seating lounge seemed to be filled with guests more than the main bar was. Stranded travellers like yourself. At first glance, the nicely dressed men in suits made it seem like you were in a bar downtown. As if they were nothing more than a group of businessmen seeking leisure on a Friday night with drinks. 
It only took you looking a few seats away from them for the illusion to shatter. Your eyes fell on a group of men and women wearing their summer clothing who were making a toast, acting as if they were at the peak of their vacation. 
Looking at the scene made you realise that you weren’t the only one feeling miserable tonight. You wondered just how badly these people here needed to forget. How many of them here might be similar to you, stranded in an unexpected situation while trying to escape reality? 
You raised your glass to hide your bitter smile. The smooth liquid continued to flow through your body and you slowly began to find some peace of mind. Before you knew it, you had finished your drink, though you weren’t exactly ready to return to your cold bedroom. 
“Can I order you another glass of drink?” 
A deep voice invaded your senses after a long period of silence, and it was coming from your side. You had been far too deep in your reverie that you didn’t even realise that someone had taken the empty seat right beside you at the bar. 
Curious to see this friendly stranger, you slowly turned around to look at him. And what you saw in him nearly took your breath away. 
A tall, lean man was sitting there. His slick hair had a few curls at the end of each strands, and he had combed them back, leaving nothing more than a few stands framing his handsome face that looked almost as if it had been sculpted by the fine hands of masters in art. His sharp nose and jawline drew your attention, while his deep and soulful eyes that appeared like pools of rich mahogany drew you in, as if he was hiding a story behind his intense gaze. But it was his plump lips that formed into a smile which caught your eyes the most.
At your silence that stretched out while you were busy being captivated by him, he raised his eyebrows. It made you realise that he was waiting for your answer. An answer to a question that you had so obviously missed. 
“I’m sorry?” 
He tilted his chin to point at your now empty glass. “You look like you could use another glass, and I’d love to get one for you,” he said with an amused tone of voice. 
Once again, his deep, velvety voice hit you deeply. It resonated through your body, and a shudder ran down your spine. You refused to believe that he was able to cause this effect on you solely through his voice or his pretty smile. 
But how else would you explain the reaction that was drawn from your body? 
I don’t think I’m that drunk already, you wondered.
It was probably the way he spoke to you which affected you so much. The way he was asking a question with pure confidence. As if he already knew your answer, and that it would be impossible for you to refuse his offer. 
And he wasn’t completely wrong about it. 
What remained from your sullen mood immediately shifted in his presence. And while you have no intention of turning him down, you decided that you were not going to make things easy for him. 
“An interesting offer that seems like such a waste for me to refuse,” you sweetly said to him, smiling as your eyes fell on his empty hands. “But how would a woman feel at ease to accept such an offer from a man who isn’t even holding a glass in his hand?” 
He squinted his eyes at you, which only made his gaze feel more intense. “Are you afraid that I might be planning to get you drunk?” 
You softly laughed. “Not sure if I should be so worried about that. Getting drunk tonight has always been my initial plan all along,” you coyly said, hiding the fact that it was never your intention to get wild tonight. But his appearance intrigued you enough to change your mind about ending the night so soon.  
The mysterious man remained oblivious to this as he laughed with you. His wide, almost boxy grin mesmerised you in an instant and you were once again left speechless. 
He waved his hand to grab the bartender’s attention. It was nothing more but a simple gesture, yet you were somewhat drawn to it. To him.  
While he greeted the bartender, you took the chance to have a better look at this man. You noticed that he was a bit different compared to the other men that you saw around you earlier. 
Dressed in a black jacket over his plain white shirt, he didn’t seem as sophisticated as the stranded businessmen in their flashy suits sitting together at the bar’s lounge. Yet he had a different level of confidence which was enough to make your cheeks feel warm. 
In your eyes, he was alluring, almost as intensely as the dark storm happening outside. And you couldn’t resist being pulled towards him. 
“Another glass of the same drink for the lady and a glass of grasshopper for me,” he smoothly spoke as he ordered the drinks for you.
The bartender nodded and went to work, while you slid closer to him. His fresh-scented cologne immediately hit you, and your confidence nearly wavered that you almost slid back. But then he caught you with his gaze as he turned back to you, giving you the kind of attention which boosted every bit of ego you had. 
“So you also prefer something light and sweet. How intriguing,” you teased him, bringing back his alluring grin. 
“Why do you think I came here to join you? It was obviously for the fruity drinks and to have someone to drink it together with,” he joked.
You rolled your eyes at him and smiled. Before you got to say something in return, the bartender came back with his order. The man took a sip of his drink first before you took yours. Once again, the sweetness from your drink swirled through your body, chipping away at the tension that had been weighing you down ever since the day’s saga began. 
“To be honest, I also thought that you were looking a bit rough.” His remark brought your attention back to him. The tease was gone from his voice. All that was left was a gentle concern that seemed genuine. “And you looked like you needed a friend. That’s why I invited myself to join you.” 
It makes you feel uneasy to think that you were being so transparent. So much so that a complete stranger like himself was able to see right through you. 
“You think so? Wait until you hear how rough I’m feeling inside as well,” you bitterly said to him, drawing a soft smile to his face. 
“That makes the two of us then,” he said to you gently with his eyes on his glass of drink. There was a forlorn look in his eyes as he slowly twirled the glass, causing the liquid to swish around before he took another sip from it. 
“Care to share?” you questioned him before you could stop yourself, only to pull yourself back. “Sorry, that sounds creepy. We just met and here I am, prying into someone else’s business,” you nervously laughed.  
His gaze softened when he looked at you. Furthermore, he also seemed intrigued. 
“No, not at all.” His voice was calm, and it somehow helped to calm your nerves. “I was just about to lend an ear in case you needed someone to vent to. I never expected that you would be a step ahead of me before I could make the offer.” 
The comment he gave you made you feel warm inside. 
“Mine’s a long story,” you bitterly said to him as you raised your glass, almost giving in to the urge to take a hefty drink and finish it off when everything started coming back to you again.
The reason behind this trip, why you were stranded here on your own, while being far, far away from home, and all the drama that had gotten in the way when you had been so desperate to get away from everything. 
Unsurprisingly, the man merely shrugged. “I’ve got time to spare. My flight won’t leave until tomorrow. And that is if they’re allowed to fly out of here at all.” 
You smiled at him. “Same here. I guess we’re both stranded here all night, huh?” 
He leaned in just then, invading your personal space and filling it with his presence. And you didn’t even mind it as you leaned into him, meeting him halfway to welcome him into your little safety bubble. 
“And I was worried that I might get stuck feeling lonely while being stranded in this place,” he gently murmured, drawing a smile to your face.  
“I doubt that you would end up alone tonight,” you teased him, simply because there was no possible way that someone as attractive as he was would be returning to his hotel bedroom alone. 
His smile grew, yet the deep, dark look in his eyes shifted into something else. Something naughty and sinful. It made you feel a new sensation brewing inside even without him ever having to touch you. 
“Is that an invitation?” he asked with his deep voice that came grazing at your skin. 
Normally, you wouldn’t know what to say in return. It had been so long since you played this kind of game with someone. With anyone. But his presence and his words were drawing something out of you. A part of you that you never thought existed. And you surprised yourself when you played along, taunting danger head-on as you challenged this handsome stranger before you— 
“Would you like it to be?” 
Something flashed in his eyes. It was dark and intense, and it was sucking you in. It brought a myriad of sensations that unexpectedly went straight down to your core. 
In the deep silence that fell right after, the world around you faded. Even before you got to know his name, before you had the chance to share your story, you already knew the answer that he was about to give you as a response to your question. 
And you also knew right then, that the sparks that came rising around you were something that you would never be able to easily forget, even if every bit of memory you had about him would fade over time. 
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Present…
Why do I keep thinking about that night all over again?
You can only wonder, as you keep being reminded of that eventful night. 
Weeks, nearly a month have gone by ever since, yet the memories seem to have been engraved deeply in your thoughts. And today, even though you haven’t really been thinking about it since, you suddenly find yourself having no trouble recounting everything that happened then. 
Well, almost everything. 
Some parts may seem blurry now. All due to the passing of time and the fact that you were partly inebriated at the time. But you can still recall some parts of the night that had clearly left a strong impression on you—the first encounter and the conversation you shared before alcohol took over, the instant attraction that you felt, but most of all, his entire presence. 
And they all have been coming into your thoughts while you are sitting here in the corner of your bathroom. Alone. With your arms wrapped around your folded knees and your eyes closed. As if you are waiting for a miracle to happen. 
You scoff at the thought. 
Right. Miracles. 
Years have long passed since you stopped believing that miracles do exist. Life always has its way of blindsiding you with its twists and turns that miracles no longer seem to matter anymore. 
Not for you, at least. 
Your past experiences have only caused you to look at it with sceptical eyes, sometimes even with bitterness, knowing that life has never been on your side. 
But here you are now, wishing, praying, holding onto hope that there would be a miracle to stop you from getting into a messy situation. One that you know you wouldn’t be able to handle on your own. 
After all, the perfect season of miracles is right around the corner. So it wouldn’t be so wrong for you to have some faith in them again now, would it? 
Your phone starts blaring with the sound of the alarm, snapping you out of it. Slowly, you rise on your wobbly feet. It feels as if your entire body has grown numb even before you get to face reality as it comes glaring back at you. 
Clutching onto the edges of your bathroom counter, you try to hold yourself together, and immediately failing, as you look at the two thin white strips lying on the cold counter and feel your entire world tilting off of its axis. 
All because of the two red lines that are clearly visible on each strip.
“Oh, fuck,” you softly groan. Deep down, you had already predicted this. Yet you kept denying it, hoping that you would be wrong.
“No, no, no—” you continue murmuring to yourself while wishing that you could somehow turn back time and change everything before things started going the wrong way. 
Back to this morning, when your roommate caught you—once again—throwing up last night’s dinner before handing you the unopened pregnancy test packs that she has been keeping safe in her room with the premise, “Just in case.” 
Or maybe you could return to last night when she pointed out your odd cravings—like dipping apples into peanut butter and eating leftover mac and cheese straight from the fridge without warming it in the microwave first—and joked about how you have been acting like a pregnant woman with your mood swings. 
Better yet, you wish you could go back to that night, back to that many weeks ago, when you allowed yourself to fall for a stranger’s charm which led you to spend the night with him. 
You close your eyes, once again murmuring to yourself, “This has got to be a dream.” 
But the moment you open your eyes again, nothing has changed. You are still standing there with your hands holding tightly onto the edges of the bathroom counter. And the two pregnancy test kits that you used are still lying on top of the counter for your eyes to see. 
A rapid sound of knocking on the bathroom door sends you jumping back. 
“Hey, ______? Is everything okay?” you hear your roommate, Skye, calling out for you. Her voice seems calm, yet when you recall hearing the sound of her footsteps moving back and forth outside of the door while you were taking the test, you know that she has been waiting just as anxiously as you were. “So—? What does it say?” 
Still in shock, and quite stuck in denial, you open your mouth only to have no words coming out of you. Your brain feels a bit hazy as you walk up to the door and open it for her. 
Skye takes one look at your face and her gaze softens. “What did it—” She shakes her head. “Oh, never mind, I’m dying to know. Let me see it,” she says as she brushes past you before you can say anything. 
Hoping that there is a chance that reality can change within the next few seconds, you refuse to turn around and once again close your eyes while she suddenly grows quiet.
Maybe you were just imagining things. Maybe you weren’t even looking at the test properly. Maybe—
“So, uhm—” you can hear Skye’s voice trembling a little as she hesitantly asks you, “Two lines mean it’s positive, is that right?” 
And just like that, every bit of hope you have in you flies out the window. “I wish I could say that it’s the other way around,” you softly murmur, feeling defeated. 
And the feeling grows stronger when you hear her cursing under her breath,
“Well, fuck.”
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“What are you doing?” you ask Skye as you gingerly take a seat on the sofa. 
Once you both stepped away from the bathroom, she guided you to the living room while she sauntered away to the kitchen without a word. You can hear the noises she makes as she is busy rummaging through the counters. Yet you are too far away to see what she is up to. 
“Hang on a minute. Stay there,” she calls out without even looking. 
“Okay.” 
It’s not like you have any energy to go anywhere, after all. Your head is still spinning and you can barely feel your legs. It feels as if you are stuck in a bad dream and you just can’t get out of it. 
It doesn’t take long before Skye returns to your side, carrying with her two clean tall glasses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. It was the same bottle that you opened when you celebrated your promotion a couple of weeks ago after coming back from the trip. 
Holy shit, you inwardly cry out. Your heartbeat rises as your hands find their way to your stomach. 
“Okay, let’s try to calm down,” Skye says to you as she places both glasses on the table before you, although it seems to you more as if she is talking to herself instead of reassuring you while you are panicking inside.
A couple of weeks ago? Wouldn’t I have been already pregnant then? 
These thoughts keep running through your head as you watch your roommate pouring wine into both glasses, just like the night she did the same when you first opened that same bottle. 
Dear God, how much did I drink that night? You ask yourself with a grimace as you try to remember. 
Wait, no. I didn’t drink anything, you remind yourself. Relief washes over you look back at the celebration night where you barely took a sip before Skye took the glass away from your hands. 
Because you were already feeling sick that day. 
You had been feeling nauseous for days, throwing up once in a while and mostly on the days when you were lacking sleep because of the workload you had to handle for the upcoming promotion. All you ever did was wet your lips with the wine after the celebratory toast. That was the only contact you made with the drink before Skye replaced it with a tall glass of alcohol-free smoothie that she made especially for your ‘upset stomach’.
Of course, how did I not see the signs? You wonder again as you remember the sickly feeling you had after vomiting each morning and feeling powerless for the rest of the day. It even got so bad that you had to skip work for a couple of days at the beginning of your ‘sickness’. 
If only you knew then. 
Your eyes are still on the wine glasses as Skye places them side by side and puts away the bottle. 
“Uh—I believe we both just saw the two lines appearing on the test packs.” 
She lets out a light scoff and waves her hand at you. “They're both for me. I’m going to need them while I process this,” she says, shaking her head as she sits down to join you on the sofa. “You get to keep that smoothie.” 
You follow her gaze and look down at the glass of smoothie that you left on the table during the whole fiasco with the pregnancy test. While you pick up your drink, Skye takes a hefty drink from one of the glasses of wine and sits back. 
“So—you’re pregnant,” she murmurs to herself. Her gaze flickers to your face for a brief moment and nods to herself before taking another drink. 
Why does it seem like she is the one panicking? 
She releases a sigh. Neither of you says anything for a moment. But you can tell when she grows more anxious by the minute. You don’t understand why, until she carefully asks you, “Are you going to tell Han?” 
Confused, you look at her with your brows furrowed and ask, “Why would I tell Han that I’m pregnant?” 
Skye looks genuinely confused, almost as much as you are, and you only realise the reason why when she asks you, “Isn’t Hansol the father? You guys have been dating for a long time and I can’t remember ever seeing you with anyone else while you’re on a break.” 
You wince, realising too late that you have yet to tell her the truth.
“Actually—we’re not on a break,” you slowly admit with a low voice. Months have gone by, and even though it no longer hurts whenever you start thinking about your failed relationship or to mention your ex’s name, you cannot help but still feel bitter about how it ended and you hate talking about it. 
That is the reason why you haven’t said anything about it to anyone. Maybe you were just too embarrassed. After all, it isn’t so easy to admit that you may have been the reason why the four-year relationship fell into pieces. 
“I lied,” you say with a burst of deep sigh, “It was over, done, finished—”
“So you already broke up?” she cuts you off with a calm voice. 
You bite your bottom lip as you slowly nod your head. “Yeah,” you whisper, suddenly feeling like your throat is tightening up. Not because you feel the sudden urge to cry. But only because this is all becoming too much to take at once.  
“And the baby?” she carefully asks you. “It wasn’t Han—” 
“The baby isn’t his,” you quickly answer before she even gets to question about it. 
It’s hard enough to hear his name being mentioned after a while. It feels harder to think that you might be carrying his baby. 
But the moment those words come out of your lips, reality finally sinks in. Grabbing the glass of your drink, you take a hefty drink out of it. You wish there was some alcohol in this thing. Maybe it would have helped you think more clearly. 
That’s right. It couldn’t have been his.
Sighing to yourself, you begin to do the math. “We’ve been broken up for months, so if the baby is his, I’m sure I would be showing already by this time around,” you say this while gently rubbing your palm over your stomach. 
Now that your suspicions have been confirmed, the gesture feels almost natural to you that your hand simply moves before you realise it, though it helps confirm that nothing much has changed with your body.
It feels odd to think that there is a life existing inside you, yet you cannot really see it with just one look. This convinces you further that the baby couldn’t have been conceived while you were still dating your ex. Looking back to it now, once you remember when exactly the sickness and craving started, it would only make sense that the baby was conceived on that specific night. 
“So—if Hansol isn’t the Dad, then who was it?” 
Biting your lip, you turn to look at Skye. Of course, if there is anyone in this world that you can talk to about this, it would only be her. Just like how she would come to you first whenever she is in a bind, whether it’s about her relationships, about work, or even the smallest things like having a bad day where you end up sharing a tub of ice cream to feel better. 
After all, she isn’t just a roommate, but also someone you have known the longest compared to the other friends you’ve made since moving into this city. You have known each other since college, since back in freshman year when both of you were nothing more but young kids from small towns being thrust into the big city. 
Being put together in the same dorm room led you to become fast friends. After years of enduring the same hardship in college, the two of you remained so close that you even moved to this city together and continued to live in the same place to keep each other company. 
You have gone through everything with her, and you have always been honest with each other. It should have been easy to tell her everything. If only you could find the right words to begin sharing your story. 
“I have no idea where to start.” 
“Well,” Skye patiently says while twirling the glass of wine she’s holding. You squint your eyes at her when you find it almost empty. So unfair. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?” 
“Right. From the beginning,” you say this with a nod. “Do you remember when I went away last month?” 
She nods. “Your secret getaway. Still jealous of that, by the way.” 
You give her a small smile. “Yeah, well—there’s a reason why I insisted on going alone on that trip. I actually planned it as a surprise vacation for me and Hansol. The original idea was for us to have a romantic getaway for our fourth anniversary.” 
Skye raises her eyebrows. “Well, damn,” she mutters. “Let me guess. You broke up before it happened?” 
You grimace as you recall what happened. “Close enough,” you answer with a bitter smile. “It was because of the trip that we got a huge fight in the first place.” 
Skye tilts her head. “I’m not following.” 
Sighing, you drink your smoothie to cool down and swallow the bitter feeling you are suddenly getting. Recounting the break-up isn’t so much fun to do. Not even after this long. 
“I planned the entire thing on my own. Booked the flight and the hotel, and rearranged our schedules to fit each other so we could go on that exact date. But I never shared anything with him, except to confirm that it was a place that he also dreamt of going so we could both enjoy it together.” You let out a defeated sigh. “I wanted it to be a surprise. He used to love those in the past, so I figured it could be fun to celebrate our anniversary this way and get away from all the stress both of us had been getting.” 
You stop talking for a moment to remember those days. Both you and Hansol had been so busy back then that you could barely spend time with each other. 
It was the exact routine every day. Having long hours in the office and since you weren’t living together, you could only keep in contact with each other through texts and calls. By the time the two of you were able to see each other, all the stress had been piling up that you were almost always arguing and fighting instead of making up for all the time you missed while being apart. 
“We were talking about moving in together but all of a sudden, we stopped discussing it and I could feel us growing further apart. I thought going away from all the stress for a while would help us get along and make up for all the fighting. Maybe we could have had a chance to talk things out and figure out what to fix.” 
You stop with a soft sigh. “We were getting bored. With work, with life, and maybe we did get bored with each other but neither of us could open up about it, much less admit it. Not even to ourselves.” 
Skye lets out a groan. “This is why I don’t do relationships,” she mutters before finishing her drink. The first glass. With the second one waiting on the table.
You give her a scoff, but smile at her comment before continuing, “He found out about the trip by chance. I was still logged in on his laptop after I borrowed it to check on my work email while I was staying over on the weekend. He accidentally opened the booking details when he was checking his email, thinking it was his account. He suspected me of planning to go with someone else, but even after I told him that the trip was for both of us, he wasn’t having it.” 
Skye leans forward when she hears this. “Wait, he’s pissed about a secret vacation?” she asks, looking unhappy and confused at the same time. You can’t really blame her. Because that is exactly how you feel about your ex’s reaction. “Why would he be? If it had been me, I would’ve been ecstatic about going.” 
“I wish I knew,” you groan, feeling just as frustrated as you had been then. “But he wasn’t just refusing to go. He started blaming me. Saying something about me holding him back or something. He said he had no time for a trip when he needed to be there and work for his promotion.” 
Thinking back to that day, remembering about the fight and the things you said to each other, you are reminded of the moment the fight left your body. Because you knew then that there was nothing left to fight over. 
“He never even brought up the fact that it was the date of our anniversary. I don’t think he even knew or remembered it,” you say with a bitter chuckle. “He broke it off, saying that he wanted to focus on his career and I would be keeping him behind. And I agreed because I knew that we’d wound up hurting each other if we’d stayed.” 
“I can understand that,” Skye gently says. The two of you share a sad smile when your eyes meet. “And you still went on that trip,” she guesses, sounding proud. She lifts her glass to you and says, “Good girl.” 
You merely shrug. “When I went to cancel the tickets for the trip, I thought it would be such a waste to throw everything away. So I decided that going solo would be a good idea and kept mine. Besides, I needed a moment to heal myself and get away from the city for a short while.” 
She laughs, agreeing with you. Then, just as she is about to say something, she suddenly stops. A knowing look comes across her gaze and she slowly gasps. “Don’t tell me—” she says, “You met someone while you were there.” 
You nod your head slowly and press your lips together. “Once again, you’re close. But that’s not exactly what happened.” Blowing out a deep breath, you slowly ask her, “Remember when I told you that I got held up for a day in transit?” 
“Yeah, I was so jealous of you that I still remember everything you told me about that trip,” she lets out a dreamy sigh, then her gaze snaps back at you. “But, it seems to me that you haven’t told me everything about the trip.” 
“No, I didn’t.” You grimace. “Anyway, that’s when I met him—” 
The memories return to you again as you share with your roommate about your encounter with the beautiful stranger. You remember vividly the way he spoke, the deep and gentle voice that he spoke to you with, and his captivating smile that made you swoon. Everything about him that made it hard for you to leave and say goodbye to him. 
You recount the way you enjoyed each other’s company that even after your terrible mood gradually became much better, and after you finished yet another drink, you simply couldn’t walk away and end the night with him so soon. You stayed longer, losing count of the time you spent with him and the drinks you had. 
“And then, one thing led to another, it just happened.” 
Skye’s eyes have grown so wide at this point, and her jaw has dropped in her surprise that she looks almost comical. “You hooked up with a stranger during your transit?” she asks you. The moment you nod your head, she switches her empty glass with the other. “I would drink to that.” 
You laugh just as she takes a hefty drink as if celebrating on your behalf. “Why do you sound so proud of me?” 
“Well,” she slowly starts, “We’ve known each other for so long. You have always been so put together, always followed the rules, and you are always so good at what you do. From school, to work, even the little things you have been doing on the side. But not when it comes to your sex life.” 
You know that she is right about everything. But it doesn’t stop you from picking up a cushion and hitting her with it. 
“Hey, you know I’m right,” she says while laughing and protecting the precious glass of wine. “Come on, you’ve never had any casual relationships or random hookups, and every chance I could have gotten to hook you up with my guy friends was gone when Hansol came into the picture.” 
Pouting, you pull the cushion back and hold it tightly in your arms. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you admit with a sigh. “How do you get to know me so well?” 
“That’s because I love you enough to pay attention,” she smugly says while waving her glass around, sloshing the wine everywhere. “Why do you think I’ve been so protective of you over the years?” 
You roll your eyes and hit her with the cushion one last time, making her laugh, even though she is right. For as long as you have been friends with her, she has always been like an older sister to you. Not only for coming hard like a shield against the guys you ever introduced her to but also for the trivial things that not many people would pay much attention to. 
Like reminding you to eat properly when you are stressed out or too busy with work and school. 
You feel bad for relying on her so much over the years. But you also feel grateful about it. Just like how you’re feeling right now once you notice that you’re no longer feeling as stressed as you had earlier once you’re done dumping everything to her. 
Skye’s eyes turn back to you, landing on your covered belly as she curiously asks, “Are you positively sure that Hansol wasn’t the father?” 
You slowly nod your head. As much as you wish that you were wrong, you couldn’t have been mistaken about this.
“What are the odds that it was a false positive?” you suddenly question her, while she shrugs. 
“It’s possible,” she says. “But we can get some more test kits and redo the test. Just in case. Or you could make an appointment with the doctor straight away to make sure.” 
“Right, the doctor—” You let out a soft sigh and close your eyes briefly. It has been a while since you’ve seen your physician. The last time was before—
Oh, shit. 
Your eyes snap open right then. How long ago has it been since you’ve gone to see your physician? The last time was when you went to your regular appointment for your birth control. But that felt so long ago. 
Long before the trip. 
After that appointment, and once the break-up happened, you simply threw yourself into work so much you completely forgot about everything else. And since you were newly single, getting your birth control was the last thing you had in mind at the time. 
Fuck me, you inwardly groan without saying a thing to your roommate who is busy chattering about the doctor, making appointments, and offering to take you there herself. You know that she would lecture you about safe sex like a mother hen if you ever share this with her.
But wait…he wore a condom, right? Yes, you are quite sure he did. The details are blurry when you try to remember, but you do remember protection being involved. 
Groaning to yourself, you fall back on the sofa. Your head starts spinning again when you start worrying about other things. Once you start thinking of a problem that you may have to face, another one comes to mind. 
“What am I supposed to do with this baby?”  
Skye once again raises her eyebrows at you. “I think the right question should be what do you want to do?” she asks, while you can only shake your head.
“I don’t know,” you answer with a small voice. The only thing you can think of right now is how you are going to get through this holiday while being pregnant. You are supposed to be home for Christmas in two weeks, and knowing just how crazy your family truly is, you cannot imagine how they would react if they found out you are with a child. 
You close your eyes and let out a sigh. “And my family still have no idea that I broke up with Han.” 
“For once, I’m not jealous of your life,” Skye says as she sips her wine. But she is ready for it when you fling the cushion back at her and avoid it without spilling her drink. “Don’t worry. I think they’ll catch on about your failed relationship as soon as you walk into your family home without that hunk by your side.” 
Huffing, you hug the cushion in your arms and lean back. “I guess if they’re going to find out either way, I might as well just tell them the moment I got home.” 
Besides, it might be even harder to hide the fact that you are pregnant. You might not be showing yet, but there is no possible way you could avoid the questions that may come if you are still feeling so sick right in front of your family, or if your cravings suddenly get out of hand. 
Especially if Honey is there. Despite the early signs of dementia showing on her lately, your grandmother has always been so perceptive. And there is no telling what random things she may blurt out once she has some rum in her system. 
With so many different things to think about, you almost forget one important matter that you should be thinking about when it comes to the baby. And just like always, Skye is there to remind you of it. 
“Do you remember his name?” 
You turn to Skye with wide eyes, suddenly panicking inside. You can tell that she can see it on your face and is now sharing the same feeling when she suddenly knocks back the rest of her wine and groans, “Fuck, I’m gonna need more.” 
You watch her pour more wine into her glass, hastily drinking it right after, before turning to you again. “You didn’t get his name? At least tell me that you got his number before you went separate ways.”
You bite your lips. “It’s Tae.” 
“Tae—what?” 
You shake your head. “That’s it,” you let out a frustrated sigh. “That was the only name he ever gave me.” 
“Seriously?” 
Skye is freaking out, you can tell. But you close your eyes and rest your head back, shutting everything down as she starts ranting about how she was supposed to teach you better about hooking up with strangers and keeping yourself safe. 
With her voice turning into white noise at the back of your mind, your memories return to you, taking you back to the eventful night. 
You can almost feel yourself being back there again—back in the cold hotel bar with the scent of old wood and liquor lingering in the air; the murmuring sounds of people chatting and laughing, accompanied by the sound of glasses clinking together resonating through the space around you; back to his presence that felt so strong and intense you could barely feel anything else other than him as long as you had your attention fully on him.
“What’s your name?” You remember him asking you with his voice that grew more gentle and deeper the more he drank. 
You leaned into him and giggled in response as if he just said something funny to you. “Does it really matter?” 
His soft chuckle rumbled around you. The voice was so soft, yet you could hear it clearly because of how close you were leaning into him. “I’m sure I remember being taught not to talk to strangers.” 
“Are you telling me that you’ve been a good boy for listening to what your Mom taught you?” you teased him. It was obvious how tipsy you were at this point, which may have been the reason why you were growing more confident. 
“Oh, I’ve always been a good boy,” he answered you while looking amused. He went silent right after. His gaze seemed far away just for a fleeting moment before he finally said, “My name is Tae.” 
“Tae? That’s it?” you asked, “Is that a codename or something?” You feigned a surprise gasp before you leaned into him further to whisper, “Are you secretly a spy?” 
You felt his chest rumbling when he softly laughed. “Something like that, yeah,” he said, as he played along with your joke. 
But the moment you leaned away from him, you were surprised when you got to see something in him that you couldn’t see before. His guard was down, allowing you to see the vulnerability that was buried deep under his suave and smooth talking. 
For a brief moment, he looked broken. Just like you did. 
And from the way he was hiding himself, not only under the short nickname but also from the way he was masking his emotions, you could tell that he was looking for an escape from reality. The same way you did that night. 
So you simply smiled at him, choosing not to pry further to see beyond the mask and play along. Because at the same time, you wanted to hide your broken heart and become someone else to be able to forget everything. Just for one night. 
“Then you can call me Red. It’s my special codename for tonight.” 
His grin widened. You could almost see the relief washing over him through his warm gaze when he looked at you.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you tonight,” he said, still with his gentle voice that almost felt like sin licking on your skin when he called you, “Red.” 
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Two weeks later…
“Here you go,” your mother’s voice snaps you from whatever stupor you have been stuck in. When you open your eyes, a glass of ginger tea has manifested right before you. 
“Drink this,” your Mom says as she points at the drink. “It should be good for your stomach.” 
Your breath gets caught in your throat. Furrowing your brows, you keep your eyes on the drink instead of reaching for it. Thoughts of those past mornings when you and Skye spent searching through the internet to find a way to get rid of your morning sickness come through your mind. 
Does she know? Did she figure it out already? Is it really that obvious? 
You clench your hands and resist the urge to rub against your stomach. It has become a habit of yours to rub around your belly as if trying to feel the baby that is hiding inside whenever you feel agitated.
After getting the positive results through the home test kits, you had gone straight to the doctor only days before you left the city to have it checked, confirming that a baby is growing inside you. It still feels unbelievable to think about it, even after you saw it yourself with your own eyes. 
“It’s still really early, and we might not be seeing much yet, but that’s your baby,” the doctor’s voice echoes through your mind as you tighten your clenched hands, thinking back to the day you went to have an ultrasound and saw for the first time the growing fetus that was said to be viable to grow fully as a baby. 
Just like how the baby inside you has been nothing more than a blob of mass floating inside your stomach in your mind, your belly itself has yet to change shape. Even if your full awareness of the baby’s presence has only been causing you to find small changes in your body that nobody else might be able to see. 
But Mom has been pregnant before, so wouldn’t she be able to see it? Will that be possible?
“Ginger tea is good for nausea and will give you some energy boost. Your grandma always made it for me whenever I had a stomach ache. I’m sure it’ll help get rid of your nausea and your upset stomach will turn better in no time.” Your Mom stops talking and sighs. “You should’ve told me that you were sick. I wouldn’t have let you drive all the way home if I had known.” 
Ah. 
You breathe a sigh of relief. You should be thankful that she believed you when you told her about having an upset stomach from the long drive home from the city. It was the only thing that you could think of as an excuse when your Mom wondered why you hadn’t been eating well since you got back home and why you were feeling sick.
It makes you wonder why you have been feeling unwell since you got home. Just when you had purposely waited until you were well enough and had stopped throwing up when you planned for the drive. 
It’s almost as if the baby is deliberately making you sick to let everyone know about your secret.
“Thanks, Mom,” you say to your Mom as you reach for the tea, hiding your relieved sigh as you gingerly drink in small sips. 
You have lost count of how many times Skye has made you this drink specifically to stop you from vomiting in the morning before going to work. It has been helping a lot to ease your ‘sickness’, and you are feeling it calming your stomach already as the drink warms your body. 
You can feel your mother’s eyes on you, making you feel uneasy to be under her watchful gaze. “I think it might be better if you get some rest and take things easy. But are you sure you’re okay?” your Mom asks again, still worrying about you. 
You continue drinking the ginger tea slowly while pressing down your guilt. You hate lying to your Mom the most, and now you are starting to regret driving home on your own. If the baby hadn’t been the one responsible for your current sickness, then perhaps driving the long distance has been the reason why your nausea is now coming back with a vengeance.
So much for trying to not draw any suspicions. 
“I’m fine, Mom. Really,” you sigh as you place the glass down. “The tea is helping me already. I’ll feel better soon, I promise.” 
Your Mom says nothing for a moment, but the crease you see forming on her forehead says differently. “I’m not just talking about you being sick. Maybe there’s another reason why you’re feeling faint?” 
You look up at her just then. The moment you catch the pitiful look she is giving you, you finally understand what she is trying to say. 
Just as Skye predicted, it didn’t take long for your family to take notice of your solo arrival. In the past, Hansol would have joined you to visit your family for a day or two during the holidays before he would return to his family on Christmas day. So his absence was quite obvious from the get-go. 
And with the big lie that you have to hide from everyone at home, you had to at least give them one honest truth the moment they started asking. 
“We ended things a few months ago,” you admitted to your family during the first dinner you had since you got home. By that time, you had already tried to avoid the questions for long enough. Nobody has brought up about it again since then. 
Until now. 
“If you’re talking about the breakup, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m okay, Mom. It’s been months since it happened. I’ve been trying to move one.” 
In fact, you haven’t been thinking about your ex at all for a long time. Not until you brought it up to Skye and then again when your family started questioning. The only thing you have been worrying about lately is the baby growing inside you and finding a way to search for the father of the baby. 
It was the one thing that you talked about with Skye before you left. While you are capable enough to raise the baby on your own, you decided it would be the best course of action to contact the father and let him know.
In Skye’s own words, “Just in case.” 
Just in case the father would care enough to know that he has a son or a daughter coming into this world and wants to be in their life. 
“But if we fail to find him or he wants nothing to do with the baby, then we’ll deal with it on our own. You just got your promotion, I got my good pay. We can raise the baby together. You and me, just like old times.”
Skye’s words put a smile on your face. She always knows how to lift your spirit up whenever you feel like giving up, and those exact words have helped boost your confidence and made you believe that you could get through this. 
But first, you just need to get through spending this holiday with your family. 
“I know you said that. But as your Mom, I can’t help but worry. I thought you were serious and we’ll be hearing some good news about you getting married this year.” 
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen. Sorry, Mom,” you tease her with a bitter chuckle. You don’t bother to mention that the two of you had never once talked about marriage throughout your relationship.
Yet another sign that you overlooked. At least you never got to waste anymore time with him.
“Things just didn’t work out between us. It happens when a couple grow into two different people in the course of their relationship. Which was exactly what happened to us. Hansol wanted to focus on his career, in return, I also got the chance to focus on mine.” 
Just as you said the words, you realise that this is true for your case. 
Hansol has always been career-driven, and it has been growing stronger lately for him with the constant rise he was experiencing in his current company. And breaking up with your long-time boyfriend has allowed you to turn your focus on your job. The recent promotion you gained was a testament to your hard work to show you that there might be a silver lining to everything that has happened. 
“I suppose you’re right,” your Mom says with a smile. You are beginning to feel a bit relieved that she seems to understand. You are hoping that she would start talking about something else when she adds, “I just feel sad that it didn’t work out for you. And we were all expecting to have Hansol joining us again this year. I guess it’s too late now to let your sister know about this since she’s supposed to arrive today.” 
Stepsister. 
You lift your glass and slowly drink your tea to stop yourself from correcting her. For some reason, you feel a bit bitter having your mother mention her all so suddenly. 
It isn’t that you hate your stepsister. It’s hard to feel something so extreme when you barely had any relationship with her at all. Back when you were younger, your mother did try to get you two to get along and be friends. 
To make her happy, you tried your best to act friendly, or at least to be cordial whenever she was around, even when the only thing she showed you over the years had been nothing but contempt. 
But things changed after a drunken fit that she had last holiday season, when she got drunk and tried to make a move and openly flirted with your then-boyfriend. Even if nothing ever came out of it except for her own embarrassment, as Hansol openly rejected her and stayed away from her for the remaining time he was here, the incident still left a bad taste that made you feel bitter. 
That was when you finally decided that you would stop trying to be nice.
You put down the glass and try to remain calm. What’s done is done. All you have to do is focus on getting through this holiday before going back to the city and start with your mission to search for the baby’s father.
“What does Alia have to do with my break up?” you ask your mother, hoping that she wouldn’t bring up the drama from last year. 
“Oh, it’s nothing serious, really,” your Mom answers with a soft chuckle, “It’s just that Alia called home sometime last week, asking if she could bring someone over this Christmas. She said that she’s been seeing someone new and since she was bringing him to meet her mother, she wondered if it would be okay if she could bring him along to meet us too.” 
Your Mom sighs, looking a bit guilty when she adds, “We figured since you might bring Hansol with you, it would be okay if she has her new boyfriend along. Maybe the guys could get along and spend time together while you and Alia catch up.” 
You try to imagine you and Alia catching up like old friends or—just like what your Mom has been wishing you to be—as sisters, and you almost shake your head. 
Yeah, that seems unlikely, you bitterly wonder to yourself, yet you don’t have the heart to tell your mother that there is not much hope for you and Alia to be good friends. 
“I guess it’s a shame that Hansol isn’t here,” you simply say to your mother while you inwardly wonder just what your stepsister is really up to this year. 
“Yeah, it’s unfortunate,” your mother says with a sigh. “But I’m glad that at least both of you girls can make it home this year.” 
“Me too, Mom,” you force a smile, silently hoping that you can start talking about something else. Something that doesn’t concern your bitter stepsister coming home or bringing up any dark thoughts about your ex. “So, what are we having for dinner? Want my help in the kitchen?” 
Your question immediately puts everything into motion, drifting her attention away from your sappy story and the false hope of sisterhood that may never happen between you and your stepsister. Your Mom tries to stop you from helping out in the kitchen at first but finally gives in when you keep insisting. 
At least, this way, you can keep your mind busy enough to stop it from thinking about unnecessary thoughts the way it often does when you are alone. 
Things seem to be going on well enough at first, until your sickness returns and you have to give up trying. 
”See, I told you that you should be resting until you feel better,” your mother complains as she watches you bending over, keeping away from the stove and what is currently cooking on top of it which seems to be making you feel dizzy and sick. 
After garlic, lemon-scented air freshener, and coconut milk, seems you are going to have to add raw chicken to the list of things that may trigger your nausea.
“But then I’ll be bored like hell,” you argue, “I’m fine, Mom. Just let me take a quick break for a minute.” 
Your mother looks as if she wants to say something, but the sound of a car coming into the driveway interrupts her. Both of you turn to look out towards the living room, just in time to see your stepfather, Cliff, turning in the corner of the hall and rushing towards the front door. 
“Honey, they’re here!” he calls out, and you urge your mother to join him. 
“Go, Mom. I’ll finish things up and make sure nothing gets burned before I join you guys.”
Once your mother is out of the kitchen, you can no longer resist pressing your palm on your stomach. 
“Seriously, baby,” you whisper to the non-existent bump under your sweater, “Please take it easy, will you? I’m really struggling here, and you’re not making things easy for me. Trust me, it would be too soon for everyone to find out about you. At least wait until we can find a clue about your Dad, okay?” 
As if the baby inside you is listening, even if it is still barely full-grown at this point, your body grows calmer and the nausea slowly wanes. 
“Thank you, baby,” you whisper to your stomach once again before finally focusing on the stove and the oven, deliberately taking your time with what you do just so you can have a reason not to join the dramatic reunion happening right this minute. 
From this side of the kitchen, the front door isn’t completely visible. But you can hear everything as the door opens and your stepfather joyfully welcomes his daughter. 
Hearing his voice makes you smile. You may have had a tumultuous relationship with your stepsister, but the same cannot be said with your stepfather. Cliff has always been a great role model, and your relationship with him has always been great from the start. 
It makes you feel guilty when you think about the previous encounters where you and your stepsister simply gave each other cold shoulders or when you were met with altercations just because of how different the two of you are. But there is no helping it. Nothing has changed over the years no matter how hard you tried. Not even once you have become adults. 
You can’t even remember how it first started. And frankly, you no longer care. Last year’s incident was already enough to let you know that the sisterhood that your parents have been forcing you into was beyond saving. 
The voices coming from the front door continue for a moment longer. This time, you get to hear your mother’s voice joining in the conversation and Alia’s soft voice answering her questions. You make no effort to listen to what they are saying and tune out their voices, until your mother’s voice calls out to you. 
“______, your sister is here. Come and say hi.” 
Your mother’s words make you stop. Slowly, you turn down the heat on the stove and turn to make your way towards the front door to join the family reunion. 
“It’s stepsister,” you mutter under your breath as you drag your feet, taking your sweet time while you try to compose yourself before having to face the unwanted guests. 
As you turn around the corner, merely moments before the front door finally comes into view, you get to hear another voice speaking. The voice that you couldn’t clearly hear from the kitchen while you were tuning their conversation out. 
“I’m sorry for intruding. But thank you for having me here.” 
That voice. 
You immediately come to a halt. An uneasy feeling runs through your body when you realise that you recognise this voice and have grown to know it quite well. 
There is no mistaking it. You may not have gotten his full name on the night you met, and his face has somewhat become a faint mirage in your dreams at night whenever you are taken back to the night of your hookup.
But you cannot say the same about his voice. 
That deep and gentle voice will always be engraved in your memory. Even now, the only thing you would need to do is close your eyes and listen, and allow the voice to take you back to that specific night once more, where he used this voice to say sinful words that you could feel caressing your fragile heart while he was bringing you to the peak of pleasure.
And now you are hearing that voice here, at your home, idly chatting with your mother by the front door. 
“_______, are you coming?” your mother calls again, and you know that there is no avoiding it. You have to face reality, even if that means you must come face to face with the man who is responsible for placing you in this situation.
Tamping down the rush of nerves going through your body, you slowly march ahead. Bracing yourself as you turn around the corner and enter the living room where everyone is currently gathering in.
Your eyes fall on your stepsister first. 
Alia has always looked so vibrant and beautiful, drawing all kinds of attention from everyone in the room whenever she is present. Yet when you look at her now, there seems to be a new kind of light emerging from her. Even her smile seems brighter as she chats along with your stepfather.  
And you soon realise the reason why she is shining brightly today as you turn your gaze to look at the person standing beside her. To finally see him. 
He looks just like how you remember him. Tall and lean, with his arms and chest filling up his sweater. He has his hair falling over a part of his face, just enough of a mess that seems as if he has been running his fingers through the wavy strands. As he converses with your mother, he shows his boxy grin that seems familiar to your eyes. 
Too familiar. 
Because it looks just the same as the wide grin that was teasing and flirting with you on one eventful night at the transit hotel weeks ago. 
No. That can’t be.
The baby’s daddy is here. The man who you were planning to look for once you return to the city. 
He is here, today, appearing at the front door of your parents’ home together with your stepsister. His long fingers that had once entangled between the strands of your hair are now entwined with your stepsister’s dainty fingers. And there is no mistaking the matching couple rings that are glowing under the sunlight coming from their entwined hands. 
Before you get the chance to process what is happening, you hear him introducing himself to your stepfather, “It’s good to see you, Sir. My name is Taehyung.” 
No. 
You stifle a gasp. It feels like you have been sucker-punched right in the chest that you can barely breathe. 
Taehyung, you wonder. Tae? 
All of a sudden, you feel as if the ground beneath your feet is tilting over, slowly taking you down with it. And since you seem to have lost the ability to move your feet, the only thing you can do to stop yourself from falling is to clench your hands tightly by your side. Tight enough to feel pain as your nails are sinking into your palms, convincing you that this is not a dream. 
Yet you are still in denial as you watch the interaction happening right before your eyes. Because there is no way this is happening. There is no possible way that it is truly him. 
Please. Please don’t let it be him. 
It must have been your mind playing tricks on you. Because there is no way that he is here. Not as your stepsister’s new boyfriend. 
This must be a mistake. Yes, you are probably confused and all the thoughts of finding your baby daddy are messing up with your head, forcing you to believe that your stepsister’s new boyfriend is your mysterious baby daddy. The fact that they have the same name must have been pure coincidence. 
For once in your life, you don’t want to be right. You have to be wrong. 
Please tell me that it’s not him. 
Just then, as if life was listening to your prayers, as if life has yet to have enough of its games to play around with your heart, the man turns his gaze away from your parents. And those pretty eyes land on you. 
As if there is a switch turned, the brightness in his gaze fades. His beautiful eyes are filled with recognition. It is so subtle that you are quite sure that nobody else around you notices it, but it is enough to let you know that your memories have been right all along. 
Because those are the same eyes that you saw looking back at you with pure lust and sin while he was bringing you wanton pleasure, when you made love as if both of you had been under a spell, right on the very night that may have changed your fate forever. 
Fuck. 
Me.
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At one glance, this moment would seem like any other pre-holiday family dinner. It may seem picture perfect, even—if you had been a stranger looking in. 
There are still a couple of days left until Christmas Day, yet the festive mood has already filled the room. From the living room, all the way to the dining room, Christmas decorations are already plastered across the walls and hung from the ceiling. On the dining table, the delectable meal that your mother worked hard to prepare—with your poor assistance—had been perfectly laid out. 
With Alia’s arrival today, the immediate family is now complete. Ever the charming daughter, Alia takes up the attention of everyone around her as she shares her story—about how she has been travelling between different states and some neighbouring countries, changing jobs, finding new hobbies, and even planning to adopt a new pet. 
Sitting at the head of the table, your stepfather is soaking it all in, enjoying the time he has with his daughter whom he rarely gets to see throughout the year. Your mother sits on his right, getting the front seat of their merry reunion. She would sometimes chime in, never failing to try to get you into joining their idle chat even when you are not feeling up to it. 
Other times, you would have been able to easily play along. From making cordial comments and joining with all the light jokes shared by your family, or feigning interest in anything that Alia might be sharing at the table—even when she rarely would share the same courtesy when you did the same. 
Tonight, however, it feels like a struggle for you to focus on the conversation shared at the table, let alone pretend to be interested. Not when you are busy trying your best to calm your nerves. 
You can't even embrace the same warm atmosphere that everyone seems to be sharing. 
For you, the air around feels stifling and tense. It has been this way ever since you sat down right next to your mother for dinner. Because due to the seating arrangement, the special guest of the night is now sitting right across from you at the table. 
Taehyung. 
The last person that you had ever expected to see. Not here. Certainly not at your home or sharing the same space with your parents. 
It seems surreal to meet him here like this. Even more so when he was introduced to your family as Alia’s new boyfriend.
Judging from the way he reacted when he first saw you, you can tell that he never expected something like this could ever happen. You know that he has questions, perhaps just as much as you do, yet the situation that you found yourself in right now isn’t allowing you to even show any sign that the two of you know each other or to have met before today. 
But there is something in the way he is looking at you that doesn’t sit right with you. Aside from the lingering shock you see each time your eyes accidentally meet each other, there is a look that shows a semblance of guilt, despair, and at the same time, filled with wonder. 
Was it because he never expected to see you again after that night, much less to find out that you are somehow related to the woman that he is dating? Or was there something else going through his mind? 
“This is Alia’s sister, ______,” was what your mother said when she first introduced you to him. At that point, you and Taehyung were stunned to silence, and for a brief moment, neither of you reacted. 
Thinking about it now, you can’t even remember how you managed to join your family in the living room. The moment you saw Taehyung standing there, your legs nearly gave out. It was a wonder how you managed to stop yourself from falling or tripping as you walked over to them in a state of distraught. 
“Hi, it’s good to see you,” was all that you managed to croak out of once you snapped out of it. You didn’t even give him a chance to respond when you suddenly turned your attention to your stepsister, forcing a smile on your face when you greeted her, “Hey, Alia. It’s good to see you. You seem well.” 
You can’t even remember the expression that Alia gave you when she responded to you, “Uh yeah, thanks. You too.” 
“Right. Well, I’ll let you guys settle in. I left the stove on, so—” 
That was the last thing you said before you turned away and quickly left the room, practically running away from him to hide back in the kitchen. The last thing you heard as you walked away was your mother’s voice saying something about you being her assistant of the day in the kitchen while you were feeling unwell, as if excusing you for your unmannerly attitude. 
By the time you got back in the kitchen, your hands were shaking, your heartbeat was racing so fast you could barely breathe. It took a long time for the shock to wane, and you had spent the rest of the day staying away from both of them, avoiding him entirely until you were finally called to join dinner. 
And you are still avoiding him even now, keeping your head down as much as you can and resisting the urge to look his way. As if it isn’t hard enough for you to have him sitting right in front of you, you can feel the heat of his gaze constantly following you whenever you are not looking.
He doesn’t make it so obvious, and it doesn’t seem like anyone else has noticed it yet. Perhaps you are just too hyperaware of his presence that you caught on to it so easily.
You sneak a glance at your stepsister, wondering if Alia has taken notice of her boyfriend’s wandering gaze or where he has been directing his eyes. It takes you watching the conversation between her and your parents more closely to see it. 
Because it turns out that she also has her own gaze wandering to questionable places at the same time that she isn’t paying much attention to her boyfriend. 
Each time Alia turns to regard your mother or speak to her, her gaze flickers away briefly, ever so subtly landing on the seat to your right. At the seat that Hansol would usually occupy whenever he joined you during these holiday visits. 
It is easy to catch it when you are seeing it from your angle. And it is easy to guess what is going through her head when she keeps doing it with a curious look written all over her face. An unspoken question seems to linger, while the incident from last year keeps flashing through your head when you picture Hansol being present beside you. 
Even if nobody notices her intention, you doubt that anyone would question her about it, seeing that the seat that was supposed to be left empty has been taken by someone else. 
While you are busy trying to make sense out of everything, your grandmother makes a disapproval noise with her tongue, grabbing your attention. “Are you still feeling under the weather? You’ve been drinking that boring thing the whole day,” she says, referring to the glass of iced tea that you have just put down after taking a drink from it to cool down. 
You turn to look at your dear grandmother, Honey, and smile at her. She probably hasn’t realised what a saving grace she has been for taking the unoccupied seat to your right the minute she came in for dinner. 
And she is now helping you again by drawing your attention away from the source of your dismay. Immediately, you feel better the moment you are met with Honey’s smile. 
“I’m feeling much better, actually. I’m just being careful not to drink anything that might get me sick,” you answer carefully, hoping to sound reasonable enough without making anyone question your ‘sickness’ any further. 
The more you lie to your family about it, the more guilty you feel. You don’t have much choice at the moment but to hide it just a bit longer. 
At first, you couldn’t share the news with your parents simply because you were still clueless about how you were going to find the father of the baby with only limited information you had of him. But then things only got even more complicated for you to ever come clean when he walked through the front door of your parents’ home. 
What are the odds that the man you hooked up with turns out to be the man your stepsister is currently dating? And here you are now, stuck in the same room with them while hiding a secret which may change the course of everyone’s entire life.
Yeah, miracles don’t exist. Not for me, at least.
Honey taps at your hand on the table as you grow silent, oblivious to the thoughts running through your head. “You know what you need?” she asks, whispering in a conspiring tone that she barely keeps down so that everyone at the table can still hear her voice. 
And she does it while looking at you with her wide, expecting eyes, with the barely concealed mischief written all over her face. It makes you smile, knowing where this is going. So you simply play along. 
"No, Honey. What would that be?” 
Her mischievous smile widens as she leans closer. “A hint of rum. With a few drops into that boring tea of yours, you’ll feel better in no time,” she says, lifting her hand and showing you a pinching gesture with her thumb and forefinger nearly touching each other, “Just a pinch. Or better yet, just trade your whole glass—” 
The sound of your Mom’s frustrated sigh cuts her off. “Mom, I already told you, giving her alcohol isn’t going to make her feel better. I’ve already given her some herbal tea, that should be enough until she can get a proper rest.”
“Oh, posh,” Honey says, waving her hand at your mother. “Ignore your Mom,” Honey says just as you are about to respond. “I’m telling you. Alcohol is best to cure your heartbreak,” she adds, and you certainly have no arguments against that. Alcohol might be able to help you forget. 
But, alas…
But, wait a minute. You stop and look closely at Honey. What is she talking about? 
“What do you mean?” you question her while tilting your head, wondering deep down if she had noticed something. Surely, she wouldn’t be able to tell the high tension rolling between you and Taehyung through dinner. 
Nobody else could. But you also know that if there is anyone in your family who might be able to catch on with the tension rolling between the two of you, it would be Honey. 
Once again, Honey reaches out and taps her dainty fingers on the back of your hand. “Isn’t that why you’re feeling down, peaches? I know you’re still thinking about that good for nothing—” 
Honey stops herself and bites down her smile before you can figure out what she is about to say. But you have heard enough to understand who she is referring to. 
Relief washes over you when you realise that she was talking about your ex, Hansol. She must have thought that you have been stressing over the breakup and you have been feeling unwell because of it.
Honey leans in, this time lowering her voice just enough only for you to hear. “You must’ve taken it from me. I also get a stomach bug when I’m stressed out. Just like last summer when I lost a go-stop game against the ladies from the block,” she says, before she continues blabbering about how she had made bets during the game and went all-in only to lose everything. 
“You might think that they’re nothing but small pennies used for gambling coins, but I spent a whole week collecting them. How am I supposed to replace all of them before the next game?” she continues to complain, while you laugh at her. 
Her story takes away the tension on your shoulders for a brief moment before she adds, “And then you had to come here and watch these two being all lovey-dovey with each other.” 
As Honey mentions the pair sitting across the table, waving her hand at them to make a point, your eyes are drawn towards them once more. And your gaze lands right on Alia’s hand which is now resting on top of Taehyung’s. 
Seeing this makes you feel tight in the chest. Bitterness fills your mouth which you can barely hide with a tight smile. Honey may not have been entirely correct with her assumptions, yet her comment still hits the mark somehow. 
Not about Hansol, obviously, as he is the one to occupy your mind the least. Yet she wasn’t too far off when she talked about the new pair of lovers before you. Seeing them does make you uncomfortable, miserable even, but for entirely different reasons. 
Looking away from their joined hands, your gaze meets Alia’s. She is wearing an unreadable expression on her face as she listens in to Honey’s words. And the strange look that she is giving you now is making you feel uneasy.
Just as you start wondering if Alia has noticed something, she instead asks you, “You guys broke up?” 
She throws a quick glance at Honey’s seat with a frown. For others, she might seem concerned, yet there is a look in her eyes which tells you that there is something more. “I was wondering why I haven’t seen him around. He was with us last holiday.” 
Her comment rubs you in the wrong way. You have no idea why she would care when your relationship has nothing to do with her. But you try to not let it bother you. “Yes, it’s been months now since we broke up. I only told Mom and Dad yesterday when I first got home.” 
“I see,” she says. Her voice comes out so softly that it almost comes out as a murmur. She pulls her hand back and places it on her lap. “That’s too bad. I’m sorry,” she adds while offering a small smile. And for some reason, she also seems guilty. 
Does she think it has something to do with what happened last year? 
Her words remind you of something that she said to you last year, back on the morning you confronted her after her drunken blunder which happened the night before. 
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking. I didn’t mean anything, I swear. It’s just drunk talking.” 
That incident shouldn’t be bothering you today. Yet it still makes you feel bitter when you think about it. The feeling only grows worse when you glance at Taehyung who is showing a sudden interest in this whole thing. 
“It’s fine. Sometimes things just don’t work out,” you simply repeat the same thing you said to your mother earlier while biting back the real question that is hanging right at the tip of your tongue. 
But what’s in it to you? 
No matter how curious you are to know what kind of scheme that is going through her pretty little head, you know it’s not worth all the drama that it might cause. You cannot even possibly imagine the drama that would unfold once this whole baby thing comes out.
God, just thinking about it is already making your stomach churn. Your lower abdomen suddenly feels hard and heavy. As if you have a full-size lead inside instead of a small, growing blob that is about to form into an actual living baby within a few weeks from now. 
Thinking about the baby, your eyes find the man who is behind all of this. He has grown oddly quiet while you were conversing with your stepsister and is now staring at his food with a frown on his face.
“So tell me,” you ask calmly while clenching your hands, doing your best to hide the trembles, “How did you two meet?”
This question immediately draws Taehyung’s attention. His eyes snap up, but the moment he looks at you, his face seems to grow pale and he becomes awfully nervous.
“We, uh—we used to work at the same company before Alia left to venture into other things,” he says, almost stuttering. He also keeps stealing glances at Alia, as if begging her to help him out. 
Huh, strange.
What is it about answering your simple question which makes him so nervous? 
Or perhaps…
Have they been seeing each other when the two of you hooked up? 
Fuck. 
The moment this thought crosses your mind, you suddenly feel sick. Your stomach grows heavier with anxiety. Meanwhile, Alia’s smile seems to beam brighter. 
“We didn’t work in the same division back then, but we would frequently meet during breaks and company hours. Had it been, what, a year after we last met?” Alia turns to Taehyung, who stiffly nods his head. She grabs his hand once again and looks at him lovingly as she continues, “We met again last summer by chance while I was travelling and started talking since then.” 
Last summer? But that was before—
Your head starts spinning. You grab your glass and take a couple of small sips of your tea to regain composure, yet the drink suddenly tastes bitter on your tongue. 
Honey’s voice barely registers in your brain when she responds with a hum. “Travelling in the summer? That sounds like a charming way to meet a new lover,” she says, lifting her mug to her lips as she continues marvelling at your stepsister’s story. “You must have felt some sparks when you two met. I bet you’re still feeling it now, aren’t you?”
You have no idea what she has inside that ceramic mug, as she had been nursing the same drink since even before dinner started. You can bet money that she had more than a pinch of rum dropped inside that drink of hers, seeing how talkative she is becoming. 
Oh, how you wish you could have a taste of it. Just a sip would have been good enough. Maybe it can also help to stop your hands from trembling. 
“And the ring?” Honey asks again with a teasing tone as she points at their entwined hands. “I noticed that you two are wearing matching rings. You can’t possibly be engaged already, can you?” 
Almost choking on your drink, you slowly set your glass back down and pull your hands onto your lap, hiding them from prying eyes just in time as they begin to shake.
“But it wasn’t that different back in the day,” Honey continues, “I remember that Russ—that’s my dear late husband,” she explains to Taehyung, “he bought me a cheap ring at the beginning of our relationship to show me and my parents that he was serious about courting me.” 
On any other times that Honey would speak about your late grandfather, you would always enjoy listening to every word, admiring how she would always share her story with pure love in her voice and wonder glowing in her eyes. 
But not this time. 
Ever since she pointed out the ring and started talking about your grandfather’s old promises, you start having trouble breathing. The more she speaks, the worse it gets, and now there is a ringing sound echoing in your ear that seems to be coming from different directions. 
“I still keep the ring with me, side by side with the wedding ring that doesn’t fit anymore on these wrinkly fingers of mine,” Honey keeps gushing. She raises her hands and starts wiggling her fingers to show them off, while your whole body grows tense. 
Alia shares a nervous laugh with Taehyung and waves her hand at Honey. “Oh, no…it’s actually a part of a joke that we—” 
You try to tune out the voices, the words that are being said, while clasping your hands tighter together on your lap, but the shaking doesn’t stop. Alia’s voice fades in and out beyond the loud ringing in your head as she continues to tell her story about how they started dating and the ring came to be. With everything that is going on, added with your awareness over Taehyung’s intense gaze that doesn’t seem to waver, it becomes too overwhelming that you feel as if you are slowly being swallowed into the ground beneath you. 
With a sharp gasp, you slowly push yourself out of your seat. “Excuse me, I have to—” your voice cracks as you speak. As you stand, you notice that everyone has their eyes on you, all curious to know what is happening with you. 
“_______?” you hear your mother calling you.
You can feel the blood draining from your face under all the unwanted attention, making you wish that you could just fade away right at that moment. But then your hand find its way to your stomach, and it almost feels like there is a touch of warmth forming under your palm. It helps you force a smile and gather yourself just enough to say, “I’m sorry, but I’m not feeling well, so I’m going to step out early. I hope that’s alright. You guys enjoy the rest of dinner.” 
You don’t wait for anyone’s response as you turn away, finding your escape merely moments before you get into a full-blown meltdown right in front of everyone. 
Your legs are wobbly as you walk down the hall, yet you still manage to slip into the guest bathroom downstairs. With trembling hands, you lock the door behind you, shutting yourself from the world outside. 
And that is when you fall apart, turning into a heaving mess as everything that you have been bottling up inside comes flooding out of you. 
“Breathe,” you command yourself while you fight back against your nausea. Holding onto the bathroom counter, you keep yourself and try your best to focus on controlling your breath. 
Take a slow, deep breath. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. 
Little by little, all the tension, the trembling, and the tightness in your chest begin to wane. But once everything is gone, once you begin to find calmness, your emotions seize control of you.
The next thing you know, an unstoppable flow of tears comes running down your face and you start sobbing, crying in defeat. 
“Shit. Fuck. What a mess,” you curse between each sob, feeling absolutely helpless and alone. You close your eyes, hoping that you can clear your head by doing so. Yet your mind keeps going to dark places. Constantly wondering and questioning about all of this. 
About him. 
“Did he ever mention anything that was related to his personal life that night?” you cannot help but wonder out loud. 
Only silence answers. Because you hold little to no recollection of the details from the conversation you shared with him that night. Whenever you try to remember, it always feels like there was a part of your memory that had gone missing. 
You haven’t had the slightest clue of the things you shared with him at the bar once the drinks started coming more frequently. Which is a wonder, because you are completely sure that neither of you had gotten drunk enough to experience a blackout, much less lose a memory.
At least for you, the alcohol was just enough to burn through your nerves and help build your confidence to take the lead and openly show the attraction you had for him. Even if he did end up taking back control the moment the two of you finally gave in to temptation. 
Your head starts pounding, aching the more you try to remember the missing details. Meanwhile, all the questions won’t stop coming, making it harder for you to regain a peaceful mind.
Did he ever mention having a girlfriend, or at least give any hint that he was taken? 
Was he wearing that ring on his finger when he was touching your skin under the dim light of his bedroom suite? 
You shake your head and close your eyes again when you still remember nothing. The only thing that remains in your memory is the look you saw in his gaze that night. The pitiful look that seemed to mirror yours, making you believe that he was looking for the same thing you did that night. 
An escape. A way to forget even if for a moment. 
But what if that was all just another lie? 
Your stomach churns. A sharp pain comes shooting through your body. It starts from your lower abdomen, causing you to almost double over. 
Fuck. Now what? 
Your hand instantly comes down to your stomach, pressing and rubbing gently against it until the uncomfortable ache ebbs under your touch. 
Right, I’m supposed to avoid any form of stress, you remind yourself as you recall what your doctor told you the last time you went to see her. Something about getting your blood tension rising when you are stressed, and that it wouldn’t be good for both you and the baby in the long run. Closing your eyes, you try to think of happy thoughts, all while keeping your palm pressed on your stomach.
To your surprise, rubbing your palm against the barely-there baby bump on your belly isn’t just helping you to soothe the pain away, but also to calm yourself down. 
With a sigh, you gently wipe your tears and look down. “I’m sorry for swearing so much, baby. I promise to stop doing it once you’ve grown big enough to start hearing things so you won’t learn any of it too soon. But fuck, this is too much.” 
It feels odd to speak like this to the living being growing inside you that is barely more than a piece of flesh. Yet speaking to your growing baby seems to help ease your anxiety a little. 
Better yet, it helps make you feel less alone. 
“Let’s not think any bad thoughts. Let’s not assume that your Dad is an asshole, okay? Not until we get to hear the full story,” you whisper to the tiny human growing inside you. The more you speak to it, the more it seems to be helping you to find some ease of mind. 
But even if it turns out that he was…
“Then I can deal with it later with my head held high,” you murmur to yourself in a soft, yet reassuring tone of voice. And you repeat it again, and again, almost as if you are chanting a spell which would be able to give you a boost of confidence. 
It may not immediately change the way you look at things, yet you can feel it slowly rising within you. It feels like a ray of light, the first spark of hope that you get to feel amid all the uncertainty which surrounds you.
Soon enough, the strong urge to cry no longer overcomes you. Even your hands have stopped shaking. All that you have left is exhaustion. It rolls through your body with a vengeance, and there is nothing that you want more right now other than to curl up like a ball on your bed and sleep it off. 
You raise your head to look at yourself in the mirror, and instantly a bitter laugh escapes you at what you are seeing.
Because you look like a complete mess. Your life is slowly turning into shambles, and it seems to be mocking you through your own reflection that is now staring back at you. 
“Just exactly what I need,” you whisper with a sigh.
I need to be stronger, if only for the sake of this little one in me, you tell yourself as you splash cold water at your face to wash away all the mess—the drying tears, your swollen eyes, and the skin on your face which has yet to regain its normal colours. 
It feels therapeutic to be washing everything off, leaving nothing more but your swollen eyes which you can explain as a part of your sickness. You may not be strong enough to take on the world, but at least now, you are prepared to face the reality that is waiting for you right outside of this door. 
No matter how fucking messy it is. 
Having this new revelation should be giving you a newfound credence that could push you forward. And yet there is none of that here. The only thing you are feeling now is the new bout of anxiety rolling up through your body, starting from your stomach as it churns painfully.
“Yeah, now I feel sick,” you groan as you rush to the toilet bowl, seconds away before you start dumping the small amount of food you had during dinner into waste. 
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It takes a bit longer than expected before you finally find the courage to step out of the bathroom. 
Soft murmurs filter into the bathroom the moment you open the door. You can tell that the voices are coming from the living room, which means that the family has gathered there after dinner. It allows you to breathe a sigh of relief. At least this way you wouldn’t have to hide or make excuses if you have to bump into someone on your way to your bedroom.
Stepping out of the bathroom, you are relieved that nobody is around. Everyone should be in the living room, so you make haste, hoping to be able to escape before anyone notices. 
But as you turn to the next hallway, someone is standing in your way. The light is dim, yet you can easily recognise him before you get any closer. Standing with his back leaning against the wall, he has his hands tucked into his pockets and his eyes looking absently into the distance. 
As though he has been waiting for you. 
Taehyung turns when he notices you coming. Before you can start to wonder what he is doing here, a smile grows on his face.
“Hey, is everything okay? Everyone was worried,” he asks you, sounding genuinely concerned. 
The calm tone of his voice might be a bit deceiving if only you are not looking into his eyes. His gaze keeps wavering as he speaks, as if he is unable to look at you for too long. The same guilt you saw earlier is still present in his eyes. And you hate seeing it there. 
It only tells you that he has a secret that he is keeping from you. You have no idea how to feel about it. But if it has to do with his relationship with Alia, then—
“I’m fine, it’s just—” 
Your cheeks grow warm the moment you speak, feeling embarrassed at how dry your voice sounds. “It’s nothing. You heard my Mom, I’ll be better in no time.” 
You have so many things to say to him. So many questions that you would like to give him. But you are too tired to do anything. Much less to talk. As much as you can convince yourself that you are ready to face anything, now is not the right time to do it. 
So you keep your mouth shut and try to walk past him instead. Only that he isn’t letting you go that easily. 
“You know, it really is nice to see you again, Red.” 
His voice sounds so subdued that you almost miss it. You come to a halt. Your heartbeat starts picking up again. If you ever needed confirmation that the sinful night you shared with him truly happened, and that he remembered any part of it, then this is it. 
His comment which instantly brings you back to that fateful night. The nickname that he used to call you then.
You close your eyes, refusing to remember the way he managed to draw out a myriad of sensations with his voice alone. You refuse to be brought back there again. Not now, when your mind isn’t clear enough to be dealing with this. Taking a deep breath, you compose yourself just enough to face him.
Only to be met with his amused smile as he looks at you. 
“I was surprised to see you. I never would have thought that you could somehow be related to Alia.” He lets out a chuckle. It sounds empty and a bit bitter, mirroring exactly how you are feeling right now. 
Your chest feels tight, hating the way he is saying her name. Nor do you enjoy seeing the way his gaze changes when he does it. Annoyance fills your chest that you can barely speak, while he remains in his blissful ignorance as he continues talking, 
“Funny how life works, doesn’t it? I kept thinking about you after we met and wondered if we would ever see each other again. I regretted that I didn’t ask for your number before we parted ways. I didn’t even get to ask for your real name.” 
The tightness in your chest grows tenfold. 
You never admitted it before—not to yourself, and not even to Skye, when you first talked about him—yet there was some point between that night and the day you found out about the pregnancy that you spent your nights wondering if you would ever see him again. 
If there had been one thing that you regretted about that night, it would be the decision you made to leave the next morning without asking for his real name or leaving any means of contact. 
A night to escape from reality. 
That was all it meant for you at the time. So when the morning came, it was time for you to return to reality. Your reality. Your real life. And you were too busy preparing yourself to face all the hurt, the bad memories, and the stressful life that had nothing to do with the desirable woman that he brought into his bed the night before to even consider exchanging contacts with him. 
It didn’t matter if you were still riding the high of that night’s self-gratification and wanton pleasure through the rest of your trip. The moment everything ended, you simply moved on from it. Putting everything about that night to the back of your mind as you returned to your normal life and quickly fell back into your normal routine. 
Until weeks later, when life decided to fuck you over and you ended up with a baby growing inside you, and you had no way to find or contact him to inform him about it. 
“I guess it can’t be helped, given the circumstances.” Your conviction quickly melts into dread once you are reminded of the current circumstances. “It’s kinda too late now to talk about it and regret what didn’t happen, don’t you think? Seeing that you’re now dating my stepsister.” 
Taehyung winces. For a brief moment, you almost believe you can see a glimpse of hurt flickering through his gaze. And for some reason, it only pisses you off. 
So he doesn’t like being reminded of the fact that he is here for someone else? 
“Look, about Alia. I was hoping that we could talk. Maybe when all of this is done, or maybe after the holidays we can—” 
He continues talking, but you aren’t hearing anything. The questions that flooded your brain earlier come flashing back. The ringing that pained you returns. Everything lasts for a few more seconds before your mind clears out, and only one question remains. 
“Were the two of you already dating when we slept together?” 
He falls silent, taken aback. 
“No!” he immediately says, almost shouting. But he quickly reins himself before his voice would reach where everyone is and draw their attention. “Fuck, no. Is that why you’ve been sulking all through dinner?” he asks you with a hiss. He seems offended and hurt at the same time. “I’m not that kind of guy. Trust me.” 
“Sulking?” you let out an incredulous laugh. Is that how he saw it? When you were coming close to breaking apart right in front of everyone because of him? 
“How am I supposed to trust you when I barely know you? How am I supposed to know that you’re telling the truth?” you snap back at him with a hiss. “Just because we fucked it doesn’t mean that I’d magically know everything about you.” 
Again, he winces at your question. As if your words come to him like a slap on his face. He takes a deep breath and speaks more calmly in response, “Look, we should talk. Soon. I can explain everything. But not now, okay?” 
As much as you hate to admit it, or to agree with him, you decide that he is right. There are a lot of things that you need to discuss with him, and now is not the right time to do it. Not when your emotions are all over the place and when he has his girlfriend keeping him in close sight most of the time. 
“I agree. We do need to talk,” you finally agree, even though you know that both of you have different things in mind. 
You have no idea what he intends to discuss with you. The only thing that matters to you is to talk about the baby that you conceived together. And hopefully, decide what will happen next. 
“I should go,” you sigh, feeling exhausted and drained. “I need to lie down. This is too much for me to process.” 
You try to walk around him so you can continue on your way. Your head is pounding, and you have the dire need to rest in your comfortable bed, where you would be able to feel safe and hide away from all of this. 
“Wait,” Taehyung stops you before you can go too far. 
“What?” you ask him, feeling exasperated—both from the stress and from the way your body still tingles each time you hear his voice. You really need to get away from him. 
“Nothing, it’s just…” he starts, suddenly looking nervous with what he is about to say. The sound of laughter echoes from the living room, making him glance over his shoulder briefly before speaking to you with a lowered voice, “Can you do me a favour?” 
You frown at him. “What is it?” 
He looks wary, and it makes you feel uneasy in the stomach as you wait for him to speak. 
But what he says next makes you feel even worse. “Please don’t tell Alia that we’ve met before, more importantly that we hooked up that night.” 
You say nothing at first. Even if you are well aware of the situation and where Alia’s position in all of this, it still doesn’t stop the sharp pain you feel in your chest as he mentions her name, or to express his request. 
Taehyung steps closer when you remain quiet. His voice comes as a desperate whisper when he pleads with you, “Please? Can you do this for me?” 
You grit your teeth. “Fine, I won’t,” you finally say to him. But you refuse to give in that easily.
Taking a step closer to him, you point at him and demand him, “But you need to tell her.” 
He clenches his jaw as he listens to your demands, but you ignore it and continue to talk. “She needs to know—” your voice nearly wavers, because you know what would happen once everything is revealed. 
Telling your stepsister that you had slept with her boyfriend would not only be hard, but it would be ugly. 
But it would be better than keeping it a secret for much longer. Because secrets don’t always remain hidden, no matter how hard you try to keep them in the shadows. And things would even get messier once the baby comes while she is still being kept in the dark. 
It’s better to bite the bullet as soon as possible, rather than waiting and living your life in uncertainty until the day comes. 
“If you don’t, and we keep this a secret much longer, things might get messier if she somehow finds out on her own. The last thing I’d ever want is to get into any drama. Not with her,” you try to convince Taehyung, despite him looking like he would rather bolt and have nothing to do with any of this. 
After all the drama that happened last year, the last thing you need is to get involved in another. 
“I’ll tell her myself if necessary.” There is a bite in your voice when you are telling him all of this. To his credit, Taehyung—despite looking shell-shocked and cornered—seems to respect and understand your request. 
He lowers his head and nods. “Give me time. I’ll—” 
You are surprised to see him looking defeated. It makes you wonder if there is something more about their relationship that you need to know before going further. 
As Taehyung raises his head again, he seems more resolved. He looks straight into your eyes as he promises, “I’ll tell her myself once I get the chance to. I promise. But we’re going to have that talk first, and soon.” 
“It’s a promise.” You bite back the ache that suddenly pierces through your heart, seeing how he is so adamant about protecting his relationship with your stepsister. Trying not to look too deep into it and get yourself hurt further, you avoid looking into his gaze and start walking away from him. 
“Goodnight then—” you whisper to him as you turn away from him, biting back the sound of your defeat when you call his name, “Tae.” 
The moment you are within the safety of your bedroom, your knees buckle. Thankfully, you still manage to close the door and lock it behind you, once again shutting yourself from everyone to give you some moment of peace.
Although it doesn’t stop him from entering your mind in the silence that follows. 
As you lie down in your bed, curled up in a fetal position with your arms wrapped around yourself, your mind wanders back to the conversation you just had with Taehyung in the hallway. 
You can’t help it. His words keep coming back to you, and you keep finding yourself dissecting everything he said. You close your eyes, and keep telling yourself to stop. The situation that you are dealing with right now already seems absurd enough for you to waste your energy trying to understand him. 
You begin to wonder if things would have been better if you hadn’t come across each other again. Things would probably turn out differently. You may have to keep the baby’s existence a secret from him, and the truth about the father a secret from your family. 
You may have to deal with everything yourself. 
The possibility seems petrifying, but it still sounds a lot better than having to go against your stepsister. Better than causing your frail relationship to become even worse. This time, you know that this would be big enough to ruin any chance for you and your stepsister to have any kind of relationship at all. 
He was right. It’s funny how life works. If only it doesn’t have to be this hard to laugh it off. 
Stop it. 
Keeping your eyes closed, you let out a deep sigh and force yourself to think about something else. Anything. As long as you are not thinking about him. His face, his voice, the scent of his cologne, everything that belongs to him. 
Your head starts swimming. No, everything about him now belongs to someone else. 
Once again, you force yourself to start thinking of less stressful things. Like Skye’s text message from this afternoon suggesting that you could run away with her to a secluded place somewhere in Europe so that the two of you could raise the baby together. Or the little stories that Honey shared about the cute new gardener now working at her apartment complex—the complex specifically built for elders like herself—that she wanted to introduce to you the next time you come by to visit.
You regret forgetting to pick up the smoothie that your mother made for you while you were throwing up in the bathroom, all due to Taehyung’s distraction. You wonder if having the smoothie would be able to help you feel better. Picturing the drink being left attended in the kitchen, you can picture your grandmother—the sweet little mischievous angel that she is—sneaking in a few drops of rum into the smoothie when your mother isn’t looking. 
This thought makes you smile. It replaces every ugly thoughts that keep circling inside your mind and calms you down. 
Your heartbeat is no longer beating like crazy. The more you fill your head with wonderful thoughts, the sooner the uneasy feeling in your stomach begins to wane. 
And soon enough, you start drifting away to a restless sleep. 
But just like how he invaded your home with his sudden appearance, Taehyung invades your sleep once your mind is left unguarded. 
Speaking to him, albeit briefly, brings you back to that night. The moment you close your eyes, you start seeing everything from back then that you couldn’t remember in your waking hours. Even the smallest details that your conscious mind has forgotten. Everything comes crashing down on you as you toss and turn in your bed, unable to give in completely to a peaceful slumber as memories continue to flood your dreams. 
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Six weeks ago…
You opened your eyes and squinted. 
The overhead lamp above your head was bright, and it was hurting your eyes. You could barely see a thing through your bleary eyes, until your gaze drifted further, looking into the dimly lit bedroom far across the foyer. 
The room looked more spacious than yours, albeit a bit messy. The massive bed looked comfortable, and there were two lounge seats set up near the windows that looked more luxurious than the ones you had in your room. 
“Your bedroom seems a lot more cozy than mine.” 
The words came out of your lips with a moan. The sound seemed foreign. Barely recognisable through your hazy mind. But there was a familiar sensation slowly rising in your body that hadn’t at all come from the alcoholic drinks you were having tonight. 
“Hmmm…You think so?”
A deep, sultry voice spoke as a pair of hot lips made their way down the side of your neck, tracing your skin with delicate kisses that made it even harder for you to think straight. 
Shivers ran down your body. Heat rolled through your chest. And it almost seemed to you that your skin was becoming even more sensitive to the touch when even the most subtle caress of his fingers was able to light up your senses. 
Right after the voice spoke to you, he suddenly switched and started kissing his way up. You blinked, and his face came into view just as he looked down at you. The beautiful face that captivated you when you first met him at the bar was presented right before your eyes. 
So close. So tempting. And his eyes were so intense that you nearly lost your breath. He smiled and leaned down, capturing your lips with a kiss. 
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he murmured against your lips, drawing another moan out of you which snapped you from your daze. 
You sighed as you gave in to the chaste kiss he was giving you. “It’s kind of hard to look around and see anything when you have me pinned to the door.” 
He let out a soft chuckle and once again pressed his lips on yours. As if he was both pleased and amused that he got to put you in this position. When he pulled back, the look in his eyes softened. 
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. It’s all your fault for teasing me all the way here while I couldn’t allow myself to touch you with so many eyes paying attention,” he said without any hint of regret in his voice. 
“Well, forgive me because I wasn’t aware,” you taunted him back, knowing fully well what you had done to tease him until he was on the verge of breaking apart even before you reached his hotel suite. 
As much as you wanted to hold back, you were quite sure that you hadn’t gotten things wrong. You couldn’t have possibly mistaken the chemistry that kept sparking between you. And the way he kept openly staring at your body was enough to make his intention clear, as his eyes seemed more honest than the words he gave you. 
But back at the bar, you had let him be the first one to make the move. 
With his sturdy hands, he was the one who pulled your seat closer. By placing his arm on your backrest, it may have seemed as if he was marking his territory for anyone else at the hotel bar to see. Normally, something like this would’ve put you off. But there was something in the way he did it that made you feel otherwise, allowing you to give in and lean more into his warmth instead of pushing him away. 
That was when you reciprocated his actions with your own. The light and subtle touches of your fingers on his arm drew soft shudders through his body. The accidental brushes that happened when you moved against his body pushed him into wrapping his arm around you, keeping you close before he finally pulled you out of the bar. 
When you leaned close enough to whisper softly against his ear, you could feel goosebumps rising on his skin, his heartbeat escalating under your palm, and he could barely hold himself back from devouring your lips right there at the hotel lobby. Right where everyone could see you falling into pieces under your sinful desire.
By the time you were alone with him in the elevator, the tension between you just kept escalating until he finally snapped. 
He nearly dragged you across the hallway leading to his bedroom suite in his rush to get you alone. The moment he pulled you in through the door, every bit of his composure simply left him. He barely gave you a chance to catch a single glance of the suite, as he immediately pushed your body against the door and kept you there. 
Until this moment. 
His eyes grew dark after listening to your answer. His breath is still ragged after the hot kiss that he gave you once he got you pinned between his hard body and the locked door behind you. 
With his broad chest locking you in place, his hips pressing against your lower body, he left you with nowhere else to go. But this didn’t seem to be enough for him. Looking into his eyes, you could tell that he needed to see you become even more vulnerable. Almost as if he wanted to punish you for putting him on the edge. 
And he did exactly that as he slipped one hand around your neck and pulled your hair, tilting your head back so that he could continue exploring the column of your throat with his sinful lips. Instead of resisting it, you simply gave in. Arching your back to him further as he trailed kisses on your skin, your hands clutching on his jacket to hold on. 
He used his other hand to explore the rest of your body. Starting from your waist, he continued to move further down to your hips. Tracing every curve, every dent along your body with his firm fingers pressing through your thin dress. 
Just as he was about to reach the hem of your dress, he suddenly stopped and pulled back. 
“Tell me again. Are you sure this is what you want?” His voice was quiet when he asked you this. It sounded as though he was caught between convincing himself that this was happening while giving you an out for one last time before getting too deep. 
But you had gone deep. 
And you knew then that the moment you let everything happen, there was no going back from it. Everything about this was new to you; hooking up with a complete stranger while you were in the middle of nowhere, and knowing that once the night was over, both of you were going to move on with your lives. 
It felt thrilling to think about it, and the liquid courage should help you in letting go of your inhibitions. Yet you couldn’t deny the fact that you are feeling slightly nervous about jumping fully into this. 
When you failed to answer him, Tae leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss right below your ear and whispered, “Well? Talk to me. Because there is no going back from this once we begin, and I won’t let you go until you tell me what you want.” 
The way his breath tickled your ear and caressed your skin broke you out of the walls you put up. Every flicker of doubt you felt immediately melted. You brushed against him, allowing him to feel every bit of heat coursing through your body before you answered with a whisper, “Yes. I’ve never been so sure in my whole life.” 
You could feel the way his breath was caught as you pressed your palm on his chest. Pressing against him, you raised yourself up and nipped his chin with your teeth. 
“This is what I want.” 
You weren’t completely sure if you ever got to finish your sentence when all of a sudden, his lips came crashing into yours, pressing firmly as he kissed you, barely concealing his desire for more. 
The kiss unleashed your own desire. You opened your mouth for him in return, allowing him to devour you, to have a taste of your demands as he thoroughly kissed you until you were left breathless in his arms. 
His hand began to move again just then. Tracing down your hips, he pressed the tips of his fingers harder into your flesh. He made it seem as if your dress had melted into your skin with the heat of his touch that you felt completely exposed to him. And he didn’t stop until he finally found the exposed skin of your thigh. 
Your body quivered upon contact, and you could tell that he felt it too. He began stroking your skin, moving at a slow, agonising pace just to put you on the edge. 
And he easily succeeded. Already, you could barely breathe, even when he was still far from touching any part of your body that needed him the most. 
Overcame with need, your body started moving on instinct. As if his touches were controlling you as you lifted your thigh for him. His grip on your thigh tightened, helping you to keep your leg up and open yourself to him while his kiss became sloppy yet gentle as he released his hold on your hair. 
He moved his other hand down, brushing against your covered breast with a brief contact and continued trailing down. You felt him pressing at your hips, before pulling the hem of your dress upward until your lower region was completely exposed. His hand continued its travel as it climbed up your inner thigh. So you opened your legs to give him better access. A move which he appreciated with a deep hum, before you felt his thumb brushing up just an inch away from your throbbing core. 
“Should we move this someplace else? Somewhere that would be more comfortable for us?” he asked you with his lips hovering close to yours. 
It took a moment for his words to sink in. Too lost in the sensation that you were made to feel, you felt as if you were drunk and high, not from the alcohol that was no longer running wildly through your veins, but from his entire presence alone. 
All thoughts faded further as his thumb grazed across the front of your panties, finding your folds through the fabric before he pressed down, enough to give pressure on your covered clit. Sparks flew through your half-lidded eyes as pleasure came rushing through you in waves. You couldn’t stop the moan slipping out of your lips, nor the way your hips rocked into his touch to feel more. 
“So responsive,” he murmured against your neck before he planted a light kiss on your skin. “I would have loved to watch and enjoy every reaction that you would give me, every sound you make, while I have you lie down on my bed and fuck you senseless.” 
Your breath hitched and caught in your chest. Not only because of his words, but also from the way his thumb continued to rub against your covered clit. It felt sinful, yet so delectable the way he kept drawing more and more sparks and shuddering pleasure through your body.
After being deprived of such attention for quite some time, your body became more sensitive to every friction, every treatment he was giving you, and you simply wanted more. 
“Then take me there. Take me to your bed.” 
As if you had flicked a switch in his brain, his expression changed. His gaze darkened as he captured your lips with unrestrained need, yet he was careful when he picked you up, pressing you against his chest when he turned and moved to take you away from the door.
You wrapped your arms and legs around him for balance, while your lips remained locked in a deep kiss. You could feel his long stride as he began carrying you across the room. His kiss and his firm hold on your bottom cheeks were enough to draw your attention away from his clumsy footsteps, but not enough to deny you from sensing the changes happening around you.
The scent of his cologne grew thicker as he went deeper into the room, and you were getting more and more lost in him. Drowned in his heat, his kiss, and the traces that he had left behind all over his bedroom, you felt him everywhere all at once that you felt like you were being put under a spell. 
All so suddenly, you were pulled out of it when he broke away from the kiss. He laid you gently over the cold white sheets of his partly-made bed. Instead of joining you right away, he chose to pull back. His eyes seemed to glint in the dimly lit room as he took this moment to take you in. 
“Beautiful,” he murmured softly, drawing heat back to your face. 
He kept his eyes on you as he shrugged off his jacket and began peeling his shirt from his chest. Desire pulsed through your body as you watched every move he was making without ever drawing his attention away from you. 
The more you watched him, the stronger the pull that you felt towards him. Once the need to touch him took over, you reached up and tugged on his pants, hoping that you could quickly shred them off of his body. 
You barely grazed against his covered hard-on when he stopped you by catching your wrists. Like a disappointed teacher, he made a disapproval sound with his tongue. 
“Patience, Red,” he teasingly said to you as he grabbed the hem of your dress and pulled it off of you with one swift move. You fell back to the bed with a gasp, shocked to see how easy it was for him to take over until you were left with nothing more but your lacy underthings. 
The intensity you felt from his gaze made you want to wrap your arms around yourself and hide. But being half inebriated was making you slow in thoughts and movement that you couldn’t do anything but lay still. At the same time, you enjoyed the way he was looking at you, loving how he was losing himself to you the same way you did to him. 
But it was the words that he said next that further brought out your wanton needs.
“Be a good girl and stay still. I want you to stay just like this,” he said with a murmur while his eyes ran down your body, “I want you to lie on your back while you are screaming out my name.” 
If only you hadn’t been so lost for words, perhaps you would have challenged him in return. Instead, by the time every piece of his clothing was gone, you felt like you had melted further into the sheets. The raw passion you saw in his gaze and the way he was tracing his fingertips on your skin had locked you completely in place, leaving you with no other option but to surrender as he took control.
He bent down, his lips came down to your neck. Planting his kisses on your skin, he kept your attention away from his hands as he snapped off your bra and went down to pull your panties down your hips. As he dragged your panties down your bare legs, he continued his kisses further down, not stopping until he reached your heaving chest. 
You couldn’t even remember what happened to that flimsy piece of fabric that he took from you. Everything else faded as his tongue grazed across your chest, drawing a gasp out of your lips. His firm hands returned to your hips right then, holding you down while he captured your taut nipple between his teeth. 
The feeling that coursed through you was heavenly. A shooting pain came with a flare as he bit down, yet it was quickly replaced with an overwhelming feeling of pleasure when he lapped the pain away with his sinful tongue. 
“Tae—”
His body quivered against yours at the sound of your voice. He pulled away with a grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he watched you arching your chest as if you were chasing him. 
He ran his gaze down your body. Perusing you while silently admiring what he was seeing while he licked his lips. As if he was picturing the way you would taste. 
“Tell me how badly you want this, Red,” he taunted you with his hand reaching out to the nightstand. You vaguely saw him grabbing a condom while you were struggling to breathe. Your eyes fell on his exposed, throbbing cock, and words simply left you. 
Seeing its impressive size and girth, your entire body erupted with a pulse. It started from deep inside your core, right where you wanted to feel him the most. Astonished, you failed to remember that he was still waiting for your answer with his eyes locked on your face. 
And he made you struggle further to find words when he reached down, wrapping his long fingers around his cock and started giving himself slow, lazy strokes. You could see the bead of his pre-cum glistening under the dim lighting. It took everything in you to stop yourself from leaning forward and lapping him dry. To have a taste, before you let him devour every drop of your essence. 
“Red? Talk to me,” he spoke to you again with a curious tone in his voice. 
He knew that he wasn’t getting any attention, as your eyes were locked only at one place that was not his face, and he seemed to be curious to know what was making you so lost in thoughts. 
Instead of answering him, you continued to watch, completely transfixed by his actions, as he slowly spread his pre-cum along the length of his cock. You licked your lips, almost as if you could taste him. A barely concealed whimper slipped out of your lips when you watched him slowly roll the condom to cover himself from the tip of his cock and down to the base. 
Seeing him covered with protection seemed to snap you back to the present. Even if your pulsing need still refused to tame down. 
Resting back against the pillows, you dragged your eyes away from his impressive cock to his beautiful face. 
“I want you here. Inside me,” you finally responded to his question. Placing your palms on the underside of your thighs, you parted your legs open, making him see the mess that had been building up right between your legs while you were enjoying the show he was giving you. 
Now it was your turn to give him a show. 
Reaching between your legs, you moved your fingers to find your folds. You bit back a gasp once the tips of your fingers were met with your wet arousal. It felt slick as you moved your fingers around, parting your nether lips so he could see your swollen clit, before you moved your fingers in circles, pressing at yourself the exact same way you wished he would. 
“Please, fuck me, Tae. Fuck me good.” 
His pupils dilated at the sound of your voice, at the pleading words you were giving him. You loved the way he was reacting to you just as much as he did with you, yet you decided to push his buttons further by adding, “And then I want to hear you scream my name while you cum inside me.” 
He raised his eyebrows. “What a little brat,” he said, chuckling. “So you like to play games, hmmm?” 
You bit your bottom lip, holding back a moan that was threatening to come out when your touch inadvertently pushed against the source of your heat. “Oh, I do. Games are always fun.” 
While he continued stroking his cock at a lazy pace, he used the other hand to grab your neck. His palm fit perfectly as he wrapped it around the column of your throat, putting pressure that was not enough to choke you, yet enough to show you who was in control. 
“Then let’s play,” he groaned while he pressed you back down on the bed. “But this time, I make the rules.” 
You felt the electrifying pleasure surging through your body as he brushed your hand away and lined himself against your entrance, shutting down the circuits inside your brain for a moment and stopping you from wiggling too much beneath him just to feel more friction. 
A sharp moan was drawn from your lips as Tae slammed his full length deep inside you. The sensation that you felt from being filled by his width was so feral and explosive that you were sure you immediately experienced your orgasm right then and there. 
Your body must have been shaking, which was a response that you failed to notice as you had your senses filled with the steady pulse of pleasure pressing across the girth of his cock. He must have noticed it when he came to a halt, giving you a chance to process everything and adjust to his presence inside you.
Nothing made sense to you beyond the pulsing pleasure that you felt from your hot pussy. Your senses were filled with the sound of your racing heartbeat, the soothing touch of his fingers on your skin, and the whispers of his voice calling you back to him. 
He only managed to bring you back to the present by pressing gentle kisses on your lips, nose, and then on the rest of your face, stopping only after he kissed your lips again to draw your attention back to him. 
Your legs were quivering when you opened your eyes to see him, yet you could already tell from the way the pulses that came right where you were joined started to settle, that your body had adjusted perfectly to his size. 
But it didn’t mean that you would simply take it without sharing your thoughts. 
“You’re—big,” you complained with a soft moan when you felt him growing harder inside you. It didn’t stop you from rocking your hips, trying to feel more friction, while he merely chuckled at your words. 
“And it’s perfect for your tight pussy.” 
His words drew a gasp from you. But he didn’t pay much attention to it, as he slowly began to move. He started with a slow pace, which was torturous and agonising, forcing you to feel the delectable way his girth was brushing against your pulsing walls. 
Back and forth he went, going so deep you could almost feel him pressing up your stomach before pulling out until only the tip was buried inside you. He kept moving at the same pace, until you began to feel more desperate. Even your body was shaking with the need to feel more. 
“More—!” you whispered with a strangled moan, “go faster.” 
Hearing this, instead of doing what you were begging him to, Tae denied your plea by doing the opposite. With a wicked grin on his face, the fucker slowed down, bringing the pleasure that had been rising back down a notch. 
You opened your mouth to protest against it, and he moved his hands down your hips, stopping at your thighs where he gave you a tight grip. 
“You want more?” he asked you, his voice almost seemed to grow deeper, and you could feel a tinge of danger when he spoke. The same danger you saw coming through his gaze as he slowly brought your legs up. 
You expected him to stop once he got your legs up his shoulders. But he just kept going. And going. Until you were nearly folded with your legs almost pressed to your chest.
“Tae—!” 
It made you feel vulnerable, with nothing but your hands to use to hold on while he had full control of your body. He was still buried inside you, and this position allowed you to feel him more. As though you had grown tighter around him and he was growing bigger. His entire length and width made you feel full, as his cock was pressing tightly against your hot walls. 
“You wanted more,” he murmured as he began moving, rocking his hips slowly back and forth, going in and out of you, drawing more and more of that shuddering pleasure out of your body as he continued fucking you gently. “I’m giving you more.” 
He began increasing his pace. Going faster the more he heard you moaning in pleasure. “Lift your arms, Red. Bring them up and hold the pillows.” 
It took a moment for his words to register in your head. Your hands had been clutching tightly on his forearms and it was a struggle to let go. And he waited, tormenting you by keeping his pace much too slow to your liking until you followed his command. 
Your hands trembled as you unlatched them from his skin. You could barely feel your fingers as you dragged your hands up, as every part of your body grew more sensitive the more you opened your entire self to him. Keeping your eyes on him, you got lost in his intense gaze. 
It was then when you finally came in contact with the soft pillows above your head, and your fingers easily sank into them, latching onto them as you did when you were holding onto his arms.
“That’s it. Good girl,” he murmured gently, and you were pleasantly surprised to realise how much you loved hearing his praise. Warmth bloomed in your chest, and it easily made its way down right to your core. “Now hold on tightly and don’t let go.” 
And you did just that. Holding on tightly the way he wanted you to. 
Only once he gained complete control of your body, once you fully submitted to him, he finally fulfilled your wish. He held firmly on your thighs to keep them folded and open for him, and he began ramming his cock deep inside you. 
He was doing it faster. Harder. Sending you high in pleasure while all you could do was take his constant pounding. The only leverage you had to hold on was the tight hold you had on the pillows and the weight of his body that was pressing you down each time he pushed deeply inside you. 
The anomalous sounds coming out of both of your lips kept bouncing off the walls. Followed by the sound of flesh clashing against flesh, the slick sounds that came from right where you were joined, and the creaking sound of the bed beneath you. 
He kept going, relentless in his rough thrusts and his need to push you over the edge, until you could feel the rise of your orgasm coming in waves. The wanton pleasure that was hot and intense came rising inside you, growing rapidly with his deep thrusts until you finally succumbed to it, coming into your climax with a scream. 
“Tae, I’m coming,” you cried out to him as you fell over the edge, though you weren’t completely sure if the words coming out of your lips were as coherent as you thought they would have been. 
The sound of your pounding heartbeat seemed to drown everything away. Except that you could still hear the sound of his breathless grunts as they grew clearer, and the strangled moan that came out of him when he shouted, “That’s it, Red. Fuck, I’m coming!”
With a sharp intake of breath, he came to his climax. You felt every pulse of his release as he came inside you, and the tremble in his chest that surged through him with his deep groan as he relished the pleasure. Even after his release, he kept moving, rocking slowly and steadily until the spasms of your orgasm slowly began to wane down. 
He remained buried inside you when he gently released you from his hold. You could barely feel his lips pressing on your quivering thighs before he lowered them back on the mattress, yet his gentle fingers remained hot on your skin when he brushed up against you. 
He reached up and gently pried your fingers away from the pillows before slipping his fingers between yours. The way your fingers were entwined together felt so intimate. So unlike anything that you had ever thought about what a one-night stand would entail. 
Your body felt hot, and your muscles were lax, but there was a series of small spasms still going strong from deep inside you, coaxed by his incessant rocking. You should have been pushing him off of you, instead of embracing his weight as he lowered himself, covering your body with his own. 
“Tae—” you whimpered against his lips as he kissed you. Holding your hands in his, he continued to rock his hips. 
How he managed to remain so hard and stiff even after his climax was beyond you. He still felt thick as he moved. His cock brushed against your pulsing walls as he went in and out, awakening all sparks of pleasure that were supposed to have dwindled. 
And with how sensitive your body was, it rose and peaked so quickly and you had no power to stop it. 
“Too…much…” you cried between the strangled moans coming out of your lips, right before he swallowed them with another kiss. 
“One more,” he groaned as he picked up his pace. “Just do it one more time for me, Red.” 
You were so sensitive it was beginning to hurt, but the pleasure was also maddening that you didn’t want to stop. This time, he wasn’t holding you down so strongly, allowing you to move beneath him. So you rocked back against him, pushing up each time he was thrusting into you. It only took a couple of more strokes before the coil in your core snapped, and you were sent to another climax. 
And he joined you in your release, falling into a smaller climax of his own as you clenched tightly around him. 
He came with a deep groan. His whole body quaked against you before he finally fell on top of you. While you were trying to control your breath, his lips came brushing your neck, kissing you gently to help soothe down the shudders running through your body.
“Fuck…so perfect,” he sighed between his kisses, his voice came in and out through your senses, and the sparks you felt rushing through your body started waning as you were slowly drifting away into the night, with his words echoing in your dreams,
“You are perfect.” 
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Author’s Note 2.0 | Thank you for reading so far. Any likes, kudos, comments, and feedbacks will be appreciated. The story continues in part 2.
© All rights reserved. 2024 Yoonia — Unauthorized use and/or duplication of these works, including reposting, translating and modification in any form, is strictly prohibited. 
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143hyunes · 9 months
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when you help them shave
includes: ot8 x gn reader
genre: domestic fluff, crack(?), sfw
synopsis: you ask your bf if you can help him shave
warnings: implied established relationship, use of nicknames like baby; babe, lots of kissing, suggestive (lee know & seungmin), mention of blood in han's part, extreme **fluff**
wordcount: 2.5k
a/n: i saw a similar hc a while back, so i was hesitating whether i should upload this for the longest time (i've had this in the drafts since January 😭), my version is different from that one though, i can't believe i'm finally posting this. anyways i hope you like this <33 as always reblogs and feedback appreciated !!
CHAN
Days off with Chan were always eventful. Today was one such day and he was in a playful mood. The razor was in your right hand while you held onto his chin, in order to glide the razor easily across his jaw and cheeks. But Chan had other plans, you yelped out in surprise when he pulled your waist against his naked torso, the razor dropping from your hands, luckily the razor was not near his face and he didn’t get hurt. “Christopher! You could’ve seriously gotten hurt, please don’t do that again.”
“Yes ma’am!” He cheekily exclaimed, saluting you. When his hands went back to your waist again, you gave him a glare.
“What? Can’t I be close to my baby?” He said matter of factly. You sighed, you loved his cute antics, the way he was always seeking out your touch even when asleep, if he could he would never leave your side. “Okay, ok, I guess we can compromise.”
You led him out to your shared bedroom, setting the glass with water and shaving cream on the floor. When he sat down, he guided you to sit down on his lap. After you had settled on his lap, you started your handiwork on his face again. 
“All done.” You say grinning, satisfied with your work. “Finally.” He says before pulling you in for a kiss, the kiss is soft, tender and unhurried.
Both of you stop to take a breathe but don’t pull away from each other, almost sharing the same air. “I love you.” His sudden admission makes you blush. “Like I really, really love you.” He enunciated, nuzzling into your neck.
“Then will you make breakfast and do the dishes today?” He giggles.
“Anything for you baby.”
LEE KNOW
Your boyfriend’s insistence on not keeping a straight face was getting troublesome, you had been trying to shave his face for the past half an hour. He kept making goofy, semi scary expressions, you didn’t know how he could have so much control over his features. “Lee Minho, you’re really going to get hurt and ruin your shirt and it won’t be an accident.”
“I won’t hesitate to resort to violence.” You warn him again.
That seemed to make him stop but you should’ve known better, his hand had sneaked around you to get the bottle of the shaving foam. You dodged just in time but his attacks didn’t stop after his failed attempt. He finally managed to get the foam on your face. “You’re such a brat.” You scoffed.
You had to restrain him, that’s the only way you could get work done. Your left hand held both of his wrists behind his back while you used the right to shave his face, you tried to finish as quickly as possible because he could easily break free from your “constraints”. He played along though and was surprisingly cooperative. “Damn, babe I didn't know you were into that kind of stuff.”
“Shut up.” You knew you would not hear the end of it and soon his friends would also start teasing you. After you were done, you playfully, lightly slapped his right cheek. He sent you a skittish glare before caressing your neck and leaning in. You thought he would kiss you but he pulled away at the last moment. 
“Ugh,, you’re such a menace.”
“You know you love it.” You begrudgingly agree, giving his lips a chaste kiss.
CHANGBIN
“Bin, Bin!” You slowly shake his shoulders.”Don't fall asleep on me when I’m shaving your face.” You say while cupping his face, he leans into your touch giving your palm a soft kiss.
“Mhm hmm.” He hums.
You dutifully start shaving the side of his jaw again, when you clean the razor of the foam on it, you feel soft curly hair and hot breathe on your neck as he lays his head down on your shoulder.”Oh my baby is really tired, isn’t he?” You coo, your fingers massaging his scalp and he only lets out a cute grunt still laying on your shoulder. 
“Tell you what, if you let me finish shaving your face, I’ll make pancakes with chocolate chips for you.” That seems to wake him up and he obediently faces you. You laugh at his antics, the way to his heart was truly through food. 
You quickly shave the remaining hairs on his face and give him kisses all over his face. You watch as he snuggles back into the sheets, he looks so cute and endearing, you just want to bite him.
You make the pancake batter and add chocolate chips to it. You flip the last pancake and add it to the stack. Pouring his favourite apple juice into a glass, you take it and the plate of pancakes to him, you knock on the door to wake him up. He gives you a smile that you would kill for. 
His takes his first bite and smiles up at you again. “Really delicious, babe.” he says his mouthful of the pancake, he lifts his fork up for you to taste your creation. He always does this, sharing his food and feeding it to you too. 
After he’s done eating, he convinces you to take a nap with him. You can never resist him and the way his arms around you make you feel warm and safe. Slumber soon finds the both of you as you cuddle.
HYUNJIN
Hyunjin’s leaning against the wash basin, lowering his body so you can easily shave his face, he holds onto your waist for support. His hands are rubbing small circles on your waist and he’s humming along to one of your favourite songs that plays from the bluetooth speaker. Quiet nights like this where you have his undivided attention make you so giddy. 
Hyunjin always liked to hold intense eye contact, something that made you very shy at the start of you guys’ relationship, it still flusters you. His intense gaze on you right now was making your cheeks heat up, you’re always curious as to why he does that, so you decide to ask him right now.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” you meekly ask him, the scrutiny of his gaze making you timid. 
“Nothing, you just look so cute while you’re concentrating on something.”
That makes you stop, your blush deepening at his confession. “But you always look at me like that.”
He seems to ponder over his next words, his lips and eyebrows quirking up, making him all the more endearing. A stray strand of hair falls into his face and you tuck it behind his ear, cupping his face. 
“It’s because I love you, I’m trying to commit your face to my memory, so you’re there even when I close my eyes.” He finally answers.
Sometimes you feel overwhelmed by the love he has for you, this feeling making you feel full, akin to having a meal with your loved ones where after your hunger is satiated due to the good food and the hearty conversations. 
Still cupping his face you lean in to kiss him, trying to convey your love and feelings you cannot describe through the kiss. And he understands, like he always does, both of you were so attuned to each other’s emotions and mannerisms like you were cut from the same clothe.
He breaks away from the kiss only to go back to kiss your forehead. It had become his 2nd favourite spot to kiss you, after you had let it slip one such night that you really liked forehead kisses because they made you feel loved and safe. 
HAN
Han had had a very eventful day today and you could tell from the way he was so excited to tell you all about it while you shaved his facial hair. He was a ball of energy even at the end of the day, his animated gestures making you smile.
He seemed to forget that you held a sharp razor in your hand and turned his head abruptly, you pulled your hand away but it was not soon enough.”Ow!” He yelped out in pain.
The razor had scratched his skin, making it bleed; fortunately the cut wasn’t too deep.
You remove the first aid kit from the bottom drawer, using the alcohol you clean his wound. It hurts your heart when he flinches from the sting of it, but you proceed to apply antiseptic cream to his wound, softly blowing on it, in hopes that it would hurt less.
You kiss the mole on his left cheek, you couldn’t resist it. He smiles, his thumb caressing your cheek.
“I’m sorry, I should’ve been more careful with the razor.”
“Hey, it’s not your fault babe, I should’ve been more attentive and not move around so much.” He reassured you, kissing your forehead.
“Let me kiss it better, unless it doesn’t hurt too much?” You grin cheekily.
He suddenly clutches the side of his face, acting like he’s in indescribable pain.”Oww, Y/N it hurts really bad, only my baby’s kisses can heal me now.”, he exclaims with a pout.
You giggle while kissing his soft lips, he leans into the kiss, holding your face.
Later you did each other’s skin care routine, you were of course careful of his wound, not wanting to hurt him. You spent the rest of the night watching anime cuddled up beside each other.
FELIX
Felix really liked being taken care of. The blush that creeped up his neck when you asked him if you could help him shave his face today, was indication enough. And you liked taking care of people. You were perfect for each other. 
The razor hovers just before his jaw while he looks at you with such a loving expression that it floors you. He looks so adorable even with his bed head, the sunlight streaming in through the bathroom windows, making his skin glow. The freckles on his face truly shining like constellations in the night sky. You were hit with a huge wave of love for him, you just couldn’t not kiss him, not when he looked at you like you had put up all the stars in the sky. So you did, feeling lucky to call him yours.
He smiled into your kiss, returning it with the same fervour.
“I love you, Lixie.” He only giggles, blush deepening. 
“Oh really? What a coincidence, because I love you too, baby.” His voice was deep and gravelly after the long hours of sleep and it was driving you crazy would be an understatement.
You only realise that you have shaving foam on your face when he wipes it off you, his movements delicate. You must have gotten it on you when you kissed him. 
After you were done, he made breakfast for the both of you, scrambled eggs for him and sunny side up for you. You loved how domestic all of this was and could imagine spending the rest of your days like this, basking in each other’s love. What you didn’t know was that Felix shared the same thoughts as you, already planning your future in his head.
SEUNGMIN
Seungmin was very apprehensive of the idea of you shaving his face, you were naturally clumsy and he was afraid you would abrade his skin.
“If I get hurt I’m suing you.”
“Kim Seungmin, do you want to sleep on the couch tonight?”
“No.” He says begrudgingly.
“Then you will listen to what I say.”
You gently drag the razor across his face while he stands as still as a statue. He really is afraid of you hurting him, so you decide to tease him. You flick the foam on his jaw and giggle when it lands on his hair. It looks like he has a cloud on his head, when your hand again goes to flick the foam, he grabs ahold of your wrists. “Why’re you such a brat today?”
“I just really like teasing you, Seung.” You say directly looking him in the eyes, his right hand holding onto your wrist, in between your faces. 
Releasing the grip on your hand, he leaned down, his hair touching yours and now you too, had a cloud on top of your head. “Now we’re even.”
“Hey! Not fair, you attacked when I was distracted!”
“You’re the one who started it.” He says while crossing his arms. He towered over you though it was not much, you caught him off guard when you tickled his sides. Soon enough, it turned into a tickle battle and both of you were out of breathe. 
You had no idea how it happened but he had somehow managed to cage you between his arms, your back against the glass wall of the shower. “You’re really such a brat.’ He says raising your chin with his pointer finger. “But it’s ok. I actually like it.” Before you know it, he’s leaning into kiss you. 
You don’t know how he could be so passionate with his kisses so early in the morning, his tongue fighting for dominance with yours. 
“I like being a brat for you too.”
JEONGIN
It was a lazy day in and you were cuddling with your boyfriend, when you had the idea to shave his facial hair. “Can I shave your face?” You asked as you looked up at him from where you lay on his chest. He makes a distinct sound of agreement to your question.
“Okay, let’s go.” You say pulling at his hand.
“Now? But I’m so comfortable.” He says pouting.
“What can I do to convince you?” You say nudging his side.
“Can we pleasee have Mc Donald’s for breakfast?” He asks, flashing his signature charming, dimpled smile.
“Hmm, it’s not healthy, you know that baby.”
“But-I’m also craving a hash brown. Oh what the hell, you only live once.” You say giving in.
He gives your cheek a kiss when you agree to his peculiar request.
Both of you decided to place the order after you were done shaving, since the food arrives fast. 
Jeongin was really compliant and before you knew it you were done, it was going surprisingly smoothly. He must have really wanted to eat his favourite shrimp burger.
You, however, soon realised that you had spoken too soon, as your boyfriend’s hand collided with dirty soap water and it almost spilled on you. Luckily for you his reflexes were strong and he caught the glass before it could spill on you.
“You’re such a klutz, babe.” You tch, teasing him.
“That’s not how you treat your saviour.” He haughtily replies, a lilt in his voice.
“You’re also the one who put me in harm’s way.”
“Okay, fair enough. Can we please order Mc Donald’s now?”
You go to the bedroom to find your phone and place the order. When food finally arrives, the smile on Jeongin’s face is so big that it makes you smile too. Lazy days would always be the best as long as your boyfriend was with you.
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qqueenofhades · 1 year
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I understand how important it is to be able to criticize the President, and am not at all of the belief he should be beyond critique, but the critiquing of Biden makes me so nervous. (That's not to say I agree with every decision he's made - I absolutely do not). But I feel like people see things he's done wrong and decide they won't vote for him because of it. I'm not sure if enough people have the ability to see that he's done things wrong but also is our only hope of staving off literal fascism.
So many people talk about how sick they are of it constantly being a lesser of two evils situation, constantly having to vote for a candidate they hate because the other side is worse (I heard it in 2020, 2022, etc), and I guess I just- I don't really get it? We're here because they didn't do that in 2016. All of this could've been avoided had the result been different then. I just feel like people don't comprehend how different of a place we'd be in if Hillary won and engage in all this cognitive dissonance to make themselves feel better about being part of the reason she didn't.
Like.... this has been a long-running topic of discussion on my blog, not least because it is so inexplicable and maddening. It also shows how terribly shallow most people's understanding of the American political process is, and how toxic the "I can only vote for a candidate if every single personal belief/position of theirs matches mine" belief is, as well as how much damage it has done to American democracy even (and indeed, especially) by people who technically don't identify as right-wing. Yell at Republicans all you like (God knows I do, because they're the worst people on earth) but they vote. Every time. Every election. Every candidate. Whereas the Democratic electorate still holds out for Mister Perfect, and it very definitely is Mister Perfect. The amount of "evil HRC!!!" Republican-poisoned Kool-Aid that so-called progressives drank in 2016, and then afterward when they insisted they could have voted for someone like Elizabeth Warren and then didn't do that in 2020, is... baffing.
Frankly, I don't care if Hillary Clinton's personal positions on XYZ issue were the most Neoliberal Corporate Centrist Shill to Ever Shill (and Online Leftists' intellectual skills being what they are, I seriously doubt that they were using any of those words correctly and/or accurately). American policy is not made by "personal dictate of the ruler," or at least it shouldn't be, because we are not an absolute monarchy. We rely on the operation of a system with input from many people. As such, if Hillary had been elected, we would have 2-3 new liberal justices on SCOTUS and have secured civil and environmental rights for the next generation. Roe would be intact, and all the other terrible rulings that SCOTUS has recently handed down wouldn't have happened. We wouldn't have had January 6th, the attempt to stage a coup, all the tawdry scandals, our national security being at risk because of Trump stealing classified documents and probably selling them to Russia and/or Saudi Arabia, etc etc. If you think that's in any way an equivalent amount of evil to what would have happened if Hillary was elected, or if she was "still evil!!!," then I honestly don't know what to tell you. She could fucking murder puppies in her spare time if she had preserved SCOTUS for us, WHICH SHE WOULD HAVE, BECAUSE SHE WARNED US EXACTLY WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN.
(Hoo. Sorry. Still steamed. 2016 war flashbacks, again.)
In short, Hillary would have been a solid continuity Democrat and she would have signed whatever legislation a Democratic House and Senate passed, not to mention been hugely inspiring as the first female president. But because it's so important to the Online Leftists' moral sense of themselves that BOTH PARTIES ARE THE SAME!!!, they can't possibly acknowledge that ever being a factor, and/or admit that they have any culpability in not voting for her in 2016. It's like when you read the British press about any of the UK's equally numerous problems, and they BEND OVER BACKWARD to avoid mentioning that Brexit might be a factor. They just can't mention it, because then that means they might have made the wrong choice in pulling for it as hard as they did, and blah blah Sovereignty.
Basically, if HRC had been elected president, everything would be so much less terrible and terrifying all the time, we would be talking about her successor in 2024 as someone else who could be the "first," we could explore handing the reins over to Kamala as a Black/Asian woman, we could promote Buttigieg as the first gay president, etc etc. But because 2016 was so catastrophically fucked up, we are in damage control mode for the immediate future and every election is just as pivotal. And yet, because people think that the only thing that matters is a presidential candidate's personal views, we're stuck having the same old arguments and desperately begging people over and over to please vote against fascism, since that somehow isn't self-evident enough on its own. Yikes on Bikes.
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Honey Girl. Chapter Seven.
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chapter one. chapter two. chapter three. chapter four. chapter five. chapter six. series masterlist. the playlist.
Chapter Synopsis - Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. At least, that’s what you and Bucky keep telling yourselves.
Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au
Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption.
Word Count - 4.8k
Author's Note - I can only apologise for the delay on this one angels!! january blues, a crazy work schedule, writers block.. they all came to play at the same time. but chapter seven is finally here!! I hope you enjoy it. thank you for the continued love on this - words can’t describe how incredible it is.
as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3
Masterlist. Inbox.
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“Why aren’t you more surprised?”
Stella simply shrugs, sipping her cappuccino as if she has all the time in the world.
“Babe, with all due respect… I’ve been waiting for you to initiate this conversation for like two months.”
You look at her incredulously, fiddling nervously with a chip in the handle of your coffee cup.
“…Why? How?”
She smiles softly, reaching for your hand across the table.
“You’re miserable.”
You take a deep breath, and then another. After the fifth one, you find the courage to meet her eyes.
“How did you know?”
“Because I know you. You’re a hell of an actress, I’ll give you that.”
“It’s not you-”
“I know. Hey, I know. You don’t have to explain yourself.”
“I do.”
She waits for you, patient as ever. You’d be lying if you said the guilt wasn’t eating you up, slowly but surely from the inside out. You feel like you’ve let her down, disappointing the one person who’s given you your dream.
You realise, suddenly, that you haven't told anyone the full truth about everything. Not your Mom, not your Dad, not Lacie. Your Tethering, Bucky, the move to California - all your feelings and emotions over the past how ever many months have been bottled up and stowed away on a shelf, never to be opened. But you have the urge, now, to unscrew the cap and pour it out across the table, regardless of the mess.
So, you do.
"It's not you. You've given me everything I could have ever wanted, Stel, and I couldn't be more grateful. You know that, right?"
She nods, squeezing your hand.
"It's just been hard... emotionally. So, I, the thing is, I just..."
You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.
"I'm Tethered. I have a soulmate, and he lives back home. We found out literally right before you called me and asked about the business. I couldn't turn you down, I knew that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. I couldn't just let it pass me by. I knew we could do this, me and you, together. And I thought I’d be able to cope.”
You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.
“Being away from Bucky has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. It’s like… I can’t breathe properly without him. Food isn’t as flavourful, colours aren’t as bright, the sun isn’t as warm. The separation is actually having physical effects that I’m not sure I can handle anymore.”
You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.
“I’ve held out for as long as I possibly can. I was hoping that maybe it’d pass, that we’d get used to it and it’d all wear off. But it hasn’t. If anything, it’s worse than ever. The separation is ruining us both.”
You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.
“I’m sorry. I know you’re going to tell me not to apologise, but I am. I’m sorry. You’ve given me everything and I’m just… quitting on you. I love this job so much, Stella. I can’t even find the words to describe how much. But I think either me or Bucky will break soon. And I have to prevent that from happening.”
You inhale.
Stella looks at you with so much compassion, you fight the urge to burst into tears.
You exhale.
“Listen to me, okay? You are one of the best damn bakers I have ever met in my life. No one in culinary school even came close to you. I always knew that I wanted you on my team, by my side, in my corner - in the kitchen, and everywhere else. But-"
You chew your bottom lip, wincing when you taste copper.
“We don’t have to be in each other’s pockets. We can be business partners and not see each other everyday. These are the joys of modern technology, babe. We can call, text, video chat, and then schedule in person meetings when we can. If anyone can make a cross country partnership work, it’s us. I mean, come on.”
The weight lifts from your shoulders, slowly but surely. A glowing, molten warmth trickles through your veins, hopeful and real and alive.
“And this,” she picks up your business plan, all printed and pretty. “This is air fucking tight. I’m not saying you picked the wrong career, but… business could definitely be your Plan B.”
You laugh, ignoring the way your voice cracks slightly, still choked with emotion.
“Babe, I was going to franchise the business eventually anyway. Sure, this is a little earlier than I first thought, but why the hell not? We’re successful, we’ve done so well… what’s stopping us? We know we can do this. And I trust you. So much.”
“Thank you,” you whisper, easing your death grip on her hand ever so slightly. “I thought I was gonna ruin everything.”
“You haven’t ruined anything, I promise you. This is a good thing.”
She thinks for a moment, lost in her own thoughts. Suddenly, she grins at you, nosy and mischievous.
“So a soulmate, huh?”
You groan, burying your face in your hands - but you can’t fight the smile that spreads across your cheeks.
“Yeah. It’s been… complicated.”
“He’s that super hot guy that came to see you, right? The one that looks like he could be a model?”
Laughing, you nod, making mental note to relay this to Bucky on the phone later.
“How did it happen? Was it like, a stranger on the street moment?”
“Nope,” you recall fondly. “We knew each other already. He’s my Dad’s best friend.”
Her jaw drops open, eyes flickering across your face.
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah.”
“Holy shit, babe.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s amazing. Shit, no wonder you’ve been under so much stress. What did your Dad say?”
“He… doesn’t know.”
“What?”
“We need to tell him, I know we do, but it’s just so complicated. I’m worried that it’ll change everything, and not for the better.”
It’s been eating away at you, lately. The fact that your parents don’t know originally made perfect sense, but now? It’s been almost a year. You’ve never kept anything from them for that long. Now, you’re worried that you’ll never be able to undo the damage of lying and keeping secrets from the two people you always promised never to do that to.
"Look, I know I'm not exactly qualified to give out soulmate advice, but... you can't change this. It's literally been written in the stars. Your parents will understand, okay? But the longer you wait to tell them, the worse it'll be."
“Yeah. You’re right. It’s just - it’s tough. It’s gonna change everything, forever.”
“But isn’t that the beauty of it? It’s going to change everything, forever.”
You jump out of your seat and wrap your arms around Stella, holding onto her as tightly as you can. She hugs you back fiercely, speaking a thousand words without saying anything at all.
“Proud of you,” she murmurs into your hair.
“For what?” you laugh.
“Putting yourself first. Your health, your mental wellbeing, all of it. I know it wasn’t easy.”
“Love you,” you whisper, fighting back tears of relief.
“Love you too, my baker extraordinaire.”
You sit back down and take a breath, deep and full. Relaxing into your chair, you allow yourself to finally think about the next steps.
“So, I was thinking about going home and scouting out locations. I have that list of places that you read over in the business plan, but I thought of a couple more last night a few miles further out. I’ve pre prepped a few days worth of our best sellers, so you should be good without me.”
“Of course, babe. I’ve circled a couple where I really liked the look of the listings you’ve printed, and written a couple of notes for you to look over - just logistical stuff. Go back home, see your family and your soulmate,” she smirks, raising her eyebrows suggestively, “and just relax. God knows the stress lately has taken a couple years off your life. Please, get those years back on the beach or with your man or something.”
You laugh, shaking your head. She’s right, though. The stress has been resting stagnant in your muscles, tight and wound, making everything harder. You can’t wait to sit on the sand in Bucky’s arms and feel the tension melt from your body.
“You’re the best, Stella. You know that right?”
“So I’ve been told. Many, many times.”
Hours later, Bucky watches you on video call, laptop propped up on the dresser as you pack your bags excitedly. He hasn’t stopped smiling since he picked up, anticipation of the future lighting up his bones.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You show up at your parents house without warning.
You thought about calling first, but decided it’d be much more fun to surprise them. It’s a Friday evening, and you know they’ll both be sat out on the back deck, drinking wine and recapping their weeks. It’s getting warmer on the East Coast, the sounds of spring and summer slowly filtering through.
Your Mom throws open the door, her face lighting up with glee.
“Babygirl!”
She throws her arms around you, rocking you back and forth so forcefully you’re worried you might fall over.
“My baby,” she exclaims, beaming grin almost blinding you. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“It’s kind of a long story. I’ll tell you all about it.”
She grabs your face in her hands, forcing you to look her in the eyes.
“Are you okay?”
You nod, smiling as the setting sun warms your back.
“Yeah, Mama. I am.”
She believes you. For the first time in a long time, you believe you too.
“Come on. Your Dad is gonna be so excited to see you.”
You leave your bags in the car, prioritising seeing the man who’s currently shaking his hips to the soft salsa music that’s playing.
“Nice moves, Casanova.”
He whips his head around, laughing when he sees you stood against the doorframe watching.
“You like em? I need a partner, babygirl! Come on!”
He grabs your hands, pulling you further into the yard so you have more space. You take up a terrible ballroom dance posture with him, cackling as he dips you backwards and almost drops you.
“Don’t kill my baby, please Jack!” your Mom calls from the kitchen window.
She returns with a glass of pink wine in her hand, gesturing for you to come and get it. Your Dad spins you over to her, steadying your shoulders when you trip over his shoes.
“It’s like The Universe knew you were coming to us tonight, darling. We opened the strawberry wine and everything.”
“My favourite.”
You get comfy on the loveseat, sitting across from your parents who are pressed together on the outdoor sofa. The wine is sweet and sugary and exactly what you needed.
“So, what are you doing here, kiddo?”
“It’s a little… complicated. But the good kind of complicated, I think.”
You start at the beginning. Well, almost. You leave out the part about finding Bucky, waiting for him to be with you when you tell that part of the story. You agreed that you’d talk to your parents about your relationship together, and you’re not about to break that promise. You do, however, explain everything else to them.
They listen carefully, nodding and smiling to let you know they’re still with you. When you talk about the difficulties you’ve faced, they wear matching frowns as your Mom fights back tears. Eventually, you sit in silence, waiting for their reaction.
“I wish you’d said something sooner.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I just… I thought I could do it on my own.”
“Honey, you never have to go through anything alone. That’s what we’re here for - we’re like, your built in therapists. Both me and your Dad would have happily listened if you’d called us, no matter the time or place.”
“Thank you. Both of you.”
“So this means you’re moving home?”
You nod, trying to contain the excitement bubbling up inside of you.
“Well it’s a good job we didn’t end up renting your apartment, huh?”
“You didn’t?”
“We thought about it, but it didn’t feel right. And we wanted to see you settle down in California first, just in case. I don’t either of us were ready to see someone else in that place. It’s yours.”
“You big softie,” you tease, nudging your Dad with your foot. He grabs it and squeezes, laughing when you squirm out of his grip.
“Well this is a cause for celebration, isn’t it?”
When you were younger, you used to get embarrassed that your Mom would throw parties for everything. Now, it’s one of your favourite things about her. She’s taught you to embrace the joy of the little things in life.
“What are you thinking, Mama?”
“Tomorrow night, a few friends. I’ll make a big paella, we can drink wine, play cards… what do you say?”
“Sounds perfect.”
And it does. The ease of being back home has calmed you down, untied the knots in your shoulders. You feel warmed by love, from the inside out.
You leave your parent’s house, promising to make a dessert of some kind for tomorrow. As you drive away, you suddenly realise that you’re headed in the wrong direction. You’re not going home. You’re going to the person that feels like home.
Bucky.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
He’s waiting for you on his front porch when you pull up.
“Hi, honey baby.”
“Hi, handsome.”
You launch yourself into his arms, savouring the warmth rolling off of him in waves. He smells like fresh linen and sea salt and all your future plans.
“You felt me coming, didn’t you?”
“From a mile off.”
He’s grinning, beaming in all directions.
“Good job it wasn’t a surprise visit, huh?”
“There’s no such thing anymore.”
“Good.”
He grabs your face in his work rough hands, gazing at you as if you’re the sun. You realise, suddenly, that you are. You are the one thing that his world revolves around. And he is yours. Forever.
“You gonna kiss me, Buck, or just stare at me, hmm?”
He chuckles before leaning in to press his lips to yours. You sigh in contentment and pull him closer by his shirt, tilting your head back to let him slip his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like scotch and spearmint, a perfect picture of his evening.
“Have you been drinking alone, cowboy?”
“Needed some liquid courage. Knew you’d come by.”
“I make you nervous, huh?”
The filthy smirk written across your face sends electricity crackling across his skin, the hairs on his arms standing up.
“Thought you’d have figured that out by now.”
“You’re really blowing up my ego, you know. I make the Bucky Barnes nervous. Who’d have thought?”
He shuts you up by kissing you again, snaking his hands around your back to plaster your bodies together. You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging on it slightly.
“You’re letting your hair grow.”
“You like it long.”
You stop for a moment, watching his face carefully.
“Yeah. I do. How’d you know?”
“You pull it more when it’s long. Can feel how much you like it.”
“You’re a menace,” you laugh. “How about you take me inside, and I’ll show you just how much I like it? Unless you wanna give your neighbours front row seats…”
He chuckles and shakes his head before throwing you over his shoulder, laughing harder when you start shrieking. He carries you over the threshold, a beautiful prediction of years to come.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You and Bucky spend the evening in his kitchen with the windows open, watching the setting sun. The gentle ocean breeze flows through the room, tussling Bucky’s chocolate brown hair and glinting off the ice in his rocks glass.
“You want me to come with you tomorrow, when you scout locations? I’ll be your chauffeur, if you like.”
“What about work?”
“I’m the boss, baby.”
“So you keep reminding me.”
He kicks you lightly under the table, laughing when you stick your tongue out at him.
“Yeah, Buck. I’d love it if you came with. You can use your contractor knowledge and help me out.”
“It’s a date. You want me to bring my clipboard? Tape measure? Mechanical pencil?”
“You gonna bring your talking machinery too, Bob The Builder?”
Bucky stands from his chair and pulls yours out, wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you up. He spins you around before putting you down and dragging you up the stairs, kicking his bedroom door open.
He throws you onto the bed unceremoniously, chuckling when you almost bounce off. You toss your shirt at his face, before shucking off your jeans and doing the same thing. He catches them with ease, winking at you before undressing himself.
He crawls up your body, kissing any skin he can find as he goes. He starts at your ankle, before moving to your knee, your thigh, your hip, your stomach, your chest, your neck, and eventually your lips. You’re almost shaking, alive with the anticipation of having every inch of Bucky pressed against you.
“Tell me what you want, baby,” he rasps into your ear. “I’ll give it to you. Anything.”
“Just want you.”
“Need to get you ready first,” he murmurs, fingers trailing between your legs. His breath hitches when he feels how wet you are.
“Oh honey,” he groans. “You been like this all night? Hmm?”
“Since I first saw you waiting for me.”
He groans again, resting his head in the crook of your neck.
“Please, Buck. Just wanna feel you.”
Who is he to deny you when you ask so damn pretty?
“You’re killing me,” he mutters against your skin.
Bucky slides into you with one smooth thrust, biting down on your shoulder as he does it. You shudder at the feeling, and at the thought of having the imprint of his teeth on you later.
You both gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in to you. You loop your legs around his waist, heels digging into his ass to press him even closer.
“Fuck me,” you choke out. “Need it, Buck.”
“My needy girl,” he chuckles lowly. “Gonna give you everything.”
Bucky retracts his hips before thrusting back into you, deep and full. You whine, and he’s convinced the sound will never be matched. It’s like angel song, rose tinted and heavenly.
He fucks you into the mattress, long, slow thrusts that make you want to cry a little. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so connected to him - every single part of you touching his, bodies plastered together and souls intertwined.
He presses open mouthed kisses into the crook of your neck, right into your sweet spot. When he feels you getting close, he dances his fingers down your body and circles your clit, languid but precise. Your back arches as you find your release, clawing your nails down his back and locking your ankles around his hips.
“Oh fuck, honey - fuck.”
Bucky finishes with a shudder, sinking his teeth back into your shoulder. His raspy groans hit your ears just right, sweat dripping down onto your dewy skin.
“Love you, baby. Fuck, I love you.”
You’re both panting, trying to catch your breath as you come down from your highs.
“I love you too,” you giggle, pressing kisses to his damp forehead.
He collapses his weight onto you, chuckling when you groan. You push him off so he can lie next to you, strong arm thrown over your stomach as he pulls you in close.
You stay tangled for a while, letting the breeze from the window cool you both down. Bucky traces absentminded patterns across your back, rough fingertips sending goosebumps over your skin.
“I’m excited for tomorrow,” you murmur, keeping the volume low.
“Me too. Feels like a big step for our future, doesn’t it?”
“I just never imagined I’d have… this. You, the job I’ve always dreamed of… it doesn’t feel real. I mean, we’re going to look at places for a second location of my business. Who ever could have predicted I’d say that sentence?”
“Everything works out the way it’s supposed to. I told you that, that night on the beach. Before we knew. Remember?”
“I remember,” you smile, recalling that evening. You’d felt so inexplicably connected to Bucky that day. Little did you know what was to follow.
You fall asleep wrapped up in Bucky’s arms, warm and content.
You’ve never known happiness like it.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The day flies by with Bucky by your side.
You’re a little out of your depth, admittedly. You don’t know much about real estate, or what makes a viable location for a bakery. But Bucky helps - explaining what to avoid, warning signs to look out for, checking out all of the boring stuff like gas mains and water pipes and backup generators. He never patronises you, even when you look at him like a deer in headlights. He clarifies himself when you become unsure, laying out explanations carefully and simply. He’s the perfect right hand man.
“You almost ready, honey?”
“Yeah Buck, give me one second!”
You walk into the kitchen where Bucky’s leaning against the counter, beer in hand. He’s in loose jeans and a linen button up, the white shirt beautifully showing off his tanned skin. He’s got several buttons undone, toned chest peeking through. He looks effortlessly perfect.
You stop in front of him, fixing the buckle on your sandals. You look up at Bucky to find him staring at you, open mouthed.
“You alright, handsome?”
“You look… you look - fuck, you look gorgeous.”
Heat rises up your skin, still so susceptible to his compliments.
“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” he chuckles into your mouth.
Bucky rests a hand against the base of your throat, pulling you into him. His other hand plays with the hem of your dress, your skin burning where his fingers brush. You kiss him back harder, groaning when he nips at your bottom lip. He sucks on your tongue, and your knees buckle.
You pull back suddenly, putting three feet of distance between you.
“We need to go.”
Your hair is tousled, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as you try to regain your composure. Bucky smirks at you, laughing when you flip him off.
“Come on. My parents and paella await us.”
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
Your Mom has done it again.
Golden lights adorn the beams of the deck, the table littered with flowers and wine glasses begging to be filled. There’s already a few people scattered around the yard, chatting and laughing in the warm evening air.
“Oh baby, you look so beautiful.”
Your Mom engulfs you in a hug, pulling back to look at you from a distance. You’re wearing a yellow sundress, form fitting in all the right places. The skirt blows in the gentle breeze, fanning around you like an angels halo.
“This place looks amazing, Mama. I made you a tropical tart - it’s pineapple and coconut, with a mango coulis.”
“Oh, it’s gorgeous. I’ll put it in the fridge and get you some wine, honey. Buck, you want wine or beer?”
“Wine, please Lori. You need a hand?”
“If you’re offering,” she winks, laughing when he pokes her in the side as they leave towards the kitchen.
“Your father says you’re moving back home.”
You turn around to see Cora looking at you expectantly. You haven’t seen her since the incident that evening months ago.
“Uh, yeah. I love California, but I think I outgrew it after culinary school.”
She nods at you in faux sympathy, overbearing and sickly sweet.
“Aw, sweetie. Sometimes, things just don’t work out the way we hoped, huh?”
“Mhmm,” you hum noncommittally. “Yeah, I guess.”
You look for an exit, but she rubs your arm in support, pulling you back.
“I saw you today, you know.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes! Down on Maple, by the corner. You were with Bucky.”
You freeze suddenly, blood running cold. You and Bucky are always affectionate, whether you mean to be or not. It’s just the way it is, being alongside your soulmate. Of course, Cora doesn’t know this. All she’s seen is you, out in town with your Dad’s best friend, looking cosier than platonic.
Your ears are ringing. You wonder, for a second, if you’re experiencing deja vu.
“Yeah, he… he has contracting experience. Just needed a second opinion. I’m no builder, after all.”
You force a laugh, willing the ground to swallow you up.
“You two are friends? You seem pretty close.”
She’s watching you, waiting for a reaction. You don’t give it to her.
“I’ve known him for a while, I see him often. He’s a good friend to my Dad, so you can imagine we know each other pretty well by now.”
“Yeah. It sure looked like it.”
You’re wracking your brain, trying to understand what she saw. Then it hits you.
On the corner of Maple is a florist’s, alive with blooming flowers and plants of every colour. You’d been admiring the tulips when Bucky had wrapped his arms around you from behind, whispering in your ear about how you’re the prettiest flower of all, honey.
There’s no running away from this. She’s caught you, in broad daylight.
“We’re friends,” you reiterate, praying for mercy.
You shoot her a fake smile before turning on your heel, making a beeline for the kitchen to find your Mom. When you get there, you gulp down your entire glass of strawberry wine, begging the sugar to lift your mood and calm your nerves.
The rest of the night goes off fairly smoothly.
You eat paella and fruit tart, drink wine, laugh with your parents and their friends. Bucky occasionally slips a hand beneath the table, squeezing your thigh in silent reassurance. You tangle your fingers with his for a moment before letting go, praying everyone else is none the wiser.
Every time Cora opens her mouth, your chest constricts a little. But she seems to have learnt her lesson somewhat, only speaking to tell obnoxiously long and tangent filled stories and offer comments no one asked for. Eventually, you all disperse from the table, making conversation elsewhere.
“What’s on your mind?” a low voice rasps in your ear.
You’re sat on the swing in the corner of the garden, watching the world go by. Bucky snakes his arm over the back of it, fingertips brushing your shoulder.
“Cora saw us today. Think she knows.”
“She’s a fucking nuisance.”
You laugh, the sound vibrating through Bucky’s bones.
“Yeah, she is. She’s also a gossip. She won’t keep her mouth shut for long if she thinks she’s sitting on something newsworthy.”
He thinks for a moment, taking a deep breath.
“So we tell them.”
“So we tell them.”
You lean back into Bucky’s arm, inhaling the familiar scent of peace.
“We should do it as soon as possible.”
“How about tomorrow?”
You nod, biting your glossy lips.
“Yeah. We need to do it sometime, and we’ve delayed the inevitable for long enough. We’ll do it tomorrow.”
Bucky nudges closer to you, so your sides are pressed together.
“It’ll all work out the way it’s supposed to, honey girl.”
You smile gently.
“I know. I don’t think I believed you the first time you said that to me. But I do now.”
“You and me against the world, baby.”
“You and me against the world, Buck.”
It truly feels like it, at the moment. You and Bucky against the world.
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tag list part one
@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff  @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara  @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen   @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance  @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk
739 notes · View notes
beegalactica · 2 months
Text
How to set S.M.A.R.T goals
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Well, January's almost over... Have you abandoned your New Year's resolutions yet? Did you give up trying to work out for an hour every day yet? It's never too late to start fresh and a new hour, day, week, or month could be the chance to hit that restart you need.
It's great to be ambitious, but a hint of realism can make our goals more achievable.
S - Specific
What exactly do you want to accomplish? Why do you want to accomplish this? Get into the smallest details about what it is you actually want. Don't just say you want to 'glow up', what does this actually mean for you?
M - Measurable
How are you going to accomplish it? Break this big goal into little steps. If you want to 'get clear skin', how will you do this? Will you make sure you drink your water every day? Will you develop a skincare routine that you stick to?
A - Achievable
Is this something you can actually get done? Is this something possible for you? There is no limit in life, but if you make a goal that you don't believe you can actually achieve, you're setting yourself up to fail because your own belief is not there. Pick a goal and commit to it. Commit to the idea of yourself being able to succeed in whatever it is.
R - Relevant
Is this goal in line with your greater ambitions? Is this something that will help you become the best version of yourself? How will achieving this thing benefit you? Do you believe it is the best thing for you? If so, why?
T - Timely
How long do you think this will take you? How long do you want this to take you? Do you have the time to dedicate to accomplishing this goal? If not, are you prepared to make time to spend working towards your goal?
How I set S.M.A.R.T goals
Let's use the example of my Tumblr. At the start of the year, I decided that I wanted to start a blog. I didn't just write 'start a Tumblr blog' in my 2024 planner and leave it there, I wanted to 'start a Tumblr blog AND grow it consistently', but even this wasn't all. I didn't set a goal to reach x number of followers by the end of the year, but my main goal was to post consistently every week. I set myself the goal of posting at least once a week, instead of trying to post 5x a week because realistically, I know how busy things can get. I knew that starting this blog would help me improve my own discipline, and also allow me to help others, thus making me a better, more committed person. I was prepared to dedicate an hour of my time every week to sit down and just write. I've done this so far in January and hope to continue this for the rest of the year.
Instead of just setting goals in your head, try to put exactly what you want to accomplish into words somewhere for you to look back for motivation, but also to have as a plan of action to get it done.
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whorekneecentral · 3 months
Text
A New Term
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Professor!Mark Webber x Fem!Reader
Warnings: age gap (mark is in his 40s, reader is early 20s), taboo content!! - professor x college student, worried mark, sharing a cookie, suggestive behaviour from mark, oral (f!receiving), penetrative sex (p in v), bruising but in a sexual context, cum play, finger sucking.
Word Count: 2,379
Author's Note: mark always had professor vibes to me, he's so dilf.
merry smutmas series
--
You send your professor an email over the winter break and the man wonders why you’re still working, urging you to come out and relax like everyone else.
The end of semester assignment kept you up way past your bedtime, the one question kept you on your toes. Your hand passed through your hair while you searched through your email for your professor's email.
Instead of using your winter break to unwind like most of your classmates, you were cracking out assignment after assignment, trying to get as much done as possible - that way you can focus on the exams when you return from the winter break.
The tab open to send your physics professor an email.
Dear Professor Webber,
I hope you're having a nice winter break and I hope I'm not disturbing you.
I had a question regarding the final assignment you gave out prior to the break; the last part of the assignment doesn't line up with the rest.
I'm not sure if I'm misunderstanding something along the way but it doesn't seem to make any sense. Hopefully you can provide me with some clarification?
Hoping to hear from you soon and again, I do apologize if this was a disturbance to your break.
Thank you,
Y/n L/n.
You shut the tab, sitting there for a bit as you tried to go back over your notes and make sense of the assignment, hoping you could figure it out in case Professor Webber doesn't answer anytime soon.
There's a ping sound coming from your laptop, the screen lighting up as you get a response from your professor.
Dear Y/n,
You're never a bother, you know my email is always open to my students, especially one as sweet and smart as you.
I hope you're getting some rest during this break and not overworking yourself.
As for your question about the assignment, I've looked it over and I see that there are some errors, I will have to email the other students and let them know. Thank you for pointing it out but if you'd still like to go over the assignment, how about we meet up sometimes? Perhaps tomorrow around 4 if you're free? I'll be in town.
Let me know, please do get some rest at some point.
All the best,
Professor Mark Webber,
Department of Physics.
You feel your cheeks heat up at the praise, something that happens often in the presence of your favourite physics professor. You send him back a quick response.
Hi professor,
Thank you for the quick response, I promise I am getting some rest. I would like to finish up what I can over the break so I can focus on exams come January.
Tomorrow at 4 would be great, how about we meet at the coffee shop around the corner from campus?
Thanks,
Y/n.
---
Four o'clock had come and passed, you had been there since 3:30, working away on your assignment. You occupied a booth in the back, your laptop in front of you, backpack tossed next to you and your notes and textbooks scattered all over the table.
Your head was buried in your textbook, searching for a certain passage to quote in your essay. Mark had entered the coffee shop and spotted you in the back corner.
His hand reached over, gently prying the textbook out of your hand. The action startled you for a moment but you relaxed when you saw who was across from you.
"Hi professor," you smiled, closing the tab on your laptop. Mark smiles at you, "please, we're not in class, y/n. You can call me Mark."
You nod, "okay Mark." Your nose scrunched, making a face. "Yeah no, that seems weird," you giggled, watching as he shut your textbook and left it on the table.
Mark says, "have you slept?"
"What?" You asked him, confused.
"You look tired, I hope you're not overworking yourself."
"Oh no," you shook your head, "I'm fine."
Mark nods, "fine, if you say so. Let me buy you a coffee - or rather not, you seem to have already had your coffee fill for the day." He glances at the two empty mugs on the table.
There's a small smile on your face, "yeah perhaps coffee wouldn't be the smartest idea."
"Something else then?" He suggested and you hum, "maybe a chocolate chip cookie? oh and maybe apple juice?"
Mark chuckles, nodding as he slides out of his seat. You watch as he walks the counter, ordering what you wanted and  a coffee for himself before returning to the table.
You thank him, eating your cookie quietly as you searched for the pages you had written out with your assignment on it. You catch Mark staring at you, you figured it was just cause you looked frazzled or perhaps you had chocolate on your face.
You hadn't realized that the man was simply looking at you in adoration, you never thought that he'd see you in that way.
"What??" You asked, looking at him. You passed a hand over your lips, "is there something on my face?"
He shook his head, " no, you're perfect.. as always."
You smiled, cheeks flushed red. "Would you like a piece?" You held your cookie out to the man, assuming that he'd break a piece of it off but he leans over, taking a bite of the cookie.
Setting the cookie down, you take a sip of your juice and finally find the pages you were looking for. Mark listens as you explain your concerns to him, the man helping you sort through your issues with the assignment. Mark goes as far as to help you edit what you have so far.
"Is that all?" He asks, watching as you pack your things into your bag. "Yeah, that was it. Thank you so much for your help, professor."
"No trouble at all, sweetheart." He smiles, the two of you stand and head towards the exit. It wasn't until you got there that you realized the rain had come down.
You didn't live far from the coffee shop, about a 10 minute walk but you did happen to forget your umbrella at home that day.
"Are you walking?" Mark asks and you nod, "it's not that far."
"Please, it's pouring, y/n. Let me drive you home."
"I've imposed on your afternoon for long enough, you don't have to do that."
Mark shakes his head, "I cannot, in good conscience, leave you to walk in the rain. Let me drive you home, I'm offering so you're not imposing."
You give in, his hand on the small of your back as he leads you to his car. It's black inside and out, the leather matching the colour of the paint and the smell was beyond manly - exactly like your professor.
With your directions, he drives you back to your place. The rain pouring down on the car, the heavy rain drops make a sound as it hits the glass. "Thank you for the ride," you tell him, glancing over at him.
"Wait a moment, won't you? I'm sure the rain will settle in the moment. I don't want you to get your beg wet and ruin all your work," he says, the words coming out innocently enough.
You nod, watching as the rain drips down the windows. You feel something warm on your thigh, glancing down you see Mark's hand resting there. It takes you a moment to gather your thoughts, not noticing his hand slipping a bit higher.
"You know, you really should get some rest, sweetheart. Try and relax. You deserve it after all your hard work."
You nod, "I'll try."
He smiles, leaning into you as you look over at him. "Good girl."
The words hit you exactly where he expected them too, watching you shift in your seat. "Is something wrong, sweetheart?"
"N-no, sir."
He hums, a smirk playing on his lips as he moves closer; you can smell his cologne, the mint of his toothpaste, the coffee from not too long ago. Mark closes the gap between the two of you, his lips meeting yours.
As much as you enjoyed the feeling, you froze - your brain screaming no, big red letters flashing in your head but you ignored them.
Mark senses your hesitancy, pulling away from you. "I'm sorry."
"No, it's.." You pause for a moment, "it's fine. Do you want to come in?" You asked him, hoping he says yes otherwise you'd probably have to bury your head in shame.
Mark nods, the man following you up the stairs and into your apartment. "Sorry for the mess," you tell him as you unlock the door, stepping in to take your shoes off.
He looks around, confused as to where the mess would be. The place was spic and span, not a single thing out of place. Your apartment is decorated like one of those Hallmark movies, Christmas tree in the corner by the window, garland wrapped around whatever it could be, even the throw pillows on your couch were festive.
"Where's the mess, sweetheart?"
You nod towards the one singular mug that was on the coffee table, "I forgot it there last night."
Mark can't help but laugh. "That's a single cup, y/n. Most uni students live in shitty apartments with beer bottles and weed. This place is a palace compared to everywhere else."
You smile, walking further into your apartment. "Would you like something to drink?"
Mark senses your nervousness, resting his hands on your arms. "Relax, y/n. It's fine."
You visibly let out a breath, holding onto the man as he walks you to the couch. He sits you down, his hand now cupping your jaw when he leans down to kiss you.
"Will you let me help you relax?" He whispers against your lips and you nod, not having to think about it for once.
The clothes are tossed all over the living room, you’re leaning on the arm rest of the couch in your panties when Mark kisses you again.
The man drops down to his knees in front of you, your legs over his shoulder and he kisses down your calf, to your thigh before he gets to your pussy. You lift your hips, letting him take your panties off, tossing it along with the other clothes. 
His nose brushes against your clit, his tongue licking a stripe up your cunt. Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair. 
Mark’s hand on your hip rocks you back and forth slightly, just enough that he can hear his name fall from your lips. “Mark- fuck, there.” You pull on his hair, getting him to do what he did again. 
The sound of his name rolling off your tongue was enough to make his cock twitch.
He mimicked his actions again until he could feel your legs shake, your grip on his hair tighter than before, his name strung along with the explicits leaving your mouth. 
Mark glances up, your eyes shut and your head tossed back and he can't help but smile; he’s broken you down to nothing but a whimpering mess but he wasn’t done with you just yet. 
Your cheeks are red when you see him sit up, the lower half of his face glistening. You also can’t help yourself when you pull him down for a kiss, tasting yourself on him. 
You two shuffle around a bit, still on the couch when Mark flips you over; face down, ass up as he settles before you. Your back arches, the curve of your spine evident when he comes up behind you, pushing back against him as you feel the tip of his cock against your pussy. 
Mark’s hand grips your hips, pulling you back against him. Your moans are muffled by the couch when you feel him stretch you out. 
“God, please Mark, like that,” the words tumble out, begging him for more as he fucks you. His hands squeezing your hips, nails digging into your flesh. You can feel the pressure from his fingers, surely there were going to be bruises tomorrow. Your hand reaching under you, fingers barely reaching to rub your clit.
He pulls you up, his arm wrapped around your middle, your back pressed to his chest. His fingers dig into your side for a moment, squeezing you a bit. “Such a good girl for me, you take it so well.” He whispers to you, kissing under your ear. 
“Mhm hm,” you breathe, leaning back against him, your legs felt like jello under you. 
Between the angle you were at and his hand sliding down to rub on your clit, your head drops back onto his shoulder, begging him to let you cum.
“Mark, god- fuck, let me cum please,” you ramble out and Mark hums, kissing along your jaw, “mhm I'm not stopping you, sweetheart.”
He lets you drop back onto your arms, back arched for him once again. He feels you cum around him, the wetness covering his cock. It’s not long after, followed by a few sloppy thrusts, that Mark cums too. 
The tip of his cock brushing between your folds, spreading his cum all over your pussy.
He pulls away, smiling at the whimper he gets from you. His fingers replacing his cock, covered in his cum when you roll over, he sticks his fingers in your mouth and he doesn’t have to tell you what to do.
“Good girl,” he hums, watching as your tongue laps over his fingers. Mark pulls his fingers away, leaning down to kiss you. A mess of the two of you, not sure where one of you starts and the other ends. 
You lay there for a while, Mark on top of you, your leg tossed on his hip as his head rests on your sternum, one of his hands on your tit. 
"Next time you need some relaxing, you call me, okay?" He whispers, his finger dragging down your side.
You glance at the man, a raised eyebrow. "You just want to fuck me again, you dirty old man."
Mark laughs, "no, I mean yes but also no. I meant I'd take you to dinner or something, distract you from your work - but if you want to fuck, who am I to deny a beautiful woman like yourself?"
---
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daisynik7 · 1 year
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Strawberry Soju
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🎶 I don’t need another shot of you, but I got to, my strawberry soju 🎶
Pairing: Eren x f!reader
Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Genre: college au, enemies-to-lovers
Word Count: ~7.0k
cw: asshole!Eren, fratboy!Eren, subby!Eren, blowjob, cunnilingus, face riding, multiple orgasms, cowgirl, unprotected sex, alcohol, language.
Summary: Two weeks before graduation, you are finally done with your senior project. This calls for a celebration with your team, including the person who annoys you the most: Eren Jaeger. The two of you learn to put your differences aside for one night, starting with a bottle of strawberry soju. 
Notes: All characters are seniors in college (21-22 years old), engineering majors. Eren is a frat boy, so some details from my series Rush will be used, but no correlation to that story. Inspired by the song “Strawberry Soju”, which I’ve been obsessed with for the past two weeks. I had a lot of fun with this, so I hope you enjoy! Reblogs, likes, and/or comments are ALWAYS appreciated, thank you so much! 
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“And now, we are proud to present the winner of this year’s Senior Project Showcase: Team Titan! For their omni-directional mobility gear, designed for construction workers in the field to ensure safety whilst elevated hundreds of feet in the air! Bravo, Team Titan! Bravo!”
Professor Pyxis’s announcement leaves you and your group flabbergasted. Sasha and Connie both have their jaws dropped. Eren, who sits beside you, throws his fist in the air, exclaiming, “Oh hell yeah!” You stay in your seat, in total shock.
Pyxis stares fondly at the four of you, beckoning you towards the stage in the main engineering lecture hall. “Don’t be shy, my young engineers, come here to accept your award!” Hesitantly, you all make your way behind the podium, a polite round of applause from the other students and faculty echoing throughout the room. 
Nearly an entire semester of work has led to this. Five months of grueling research, scrambling to acquire the right materials, complicated design issues that made you want to scream. Not to mention five months spent collaborating with the bane of your existence: Eren Jaeger. The award for first place barely makes up for a semester’s worth of torture; nonetheless, it’s still a pretty trophy.
It was fate that brought the four of you together back in January, the same fate that has spited you for whatever reason, forcing you to work alongside Eren, the most obnoxious, cocky, annoying person you have ever met in your short twenty-two years of living. While you had no issues with Connie or Sasha, you and Eren did not mesh. It’s been apparent since the beginning of the semester when you were chosen to be the team leader. He scoffed, claimed that he “would be a better choice, but whatever.” Your relationship with him was doomed from that day on. 
What’s odd is that he isn’t an asshole to the entire group; his less than pleasant behavior seems to be reserved for you, and only you. He gets on perfectly fine with Sasha and Connie, who have basically played mediator for you two, keeping as much of the peace as possible whenever an argument ensues. He usually instigates it, always making an unnecessary comment to get under your skin. At this point, you’re convinced he’s doing it on purpose just to get a rise out of you, because how can one human be this irritating?! 
Despite all the petty drama, you have to admit that he’s smart. Not only that, but he also works hard and gets shit done, no matter how much grief he gives you about it. And, if you squint hard enough, he maybe is, almost, sort of…hot. Strictly speaking from an objective standpoint, that is. Based on media-driven beauty standards and common qualities that are considered conventionally attractive by society. Of course, you will never, ever admit this aloud, especially not to him. You’re convinced that if he ever finds out, his massive head will explode, already overinflated from his gigantic ego. 
Your team crowds Pyxis, who happily hands you the trophy first. Eren, no surprise, snatches it from your clutches to hold it himself, kissing it and lifting it above him like he won a major league championship. You resist the urge to roll your eyes, trying to maintain professionalism in front of the watching staff. 
“Will your team leader give a few words about the project?” Pyxis asks, gaze on you, motioning to the stand. 
You tense up, usually nervous about public speaking. Clearing your throat, you lean into the mic. “Uh, thank you Professor Pyxis and the rest of the faculty for selecting our project. This has been a labor of love for the past five months and we are honored to have it recognized. We hope that this prototype and any of the research associated with it will help improve labor conditions for those working in construction, risking their lives every day.” 
You glance at Connie and Sasha to see if they’d like to add anything else. Connie adds, “Special shoutout to grad students Levi Ackerman, Erwin Smith, and Hange Zoe for helping us out a ton with our project, from offering advice to testing it out. We love you!” 
“And thank you Paradise Pizzeria and Café Utopia for fueling many late nighters throughout this whole semester! You rock!” Sasha exclaims, resulting in laughter from the audience. 
Eren grabs the mic from the stand, yelling, “This is dedicated to my fraternity brothers, for providing moral support during these trying times! Alpha Tau for life!” He holds the trophy in one hand, using the other to salute an inverted fist at his chest, sticking his tongue out.  
This time, you don’t contain your eye roll as the crowd laughs even louder, clearly amused by it. He passes the microphone back to Pyxis. “Fantastic! I love the enthusiasm of this team. Let’s give them all another big round of applause!”
After the presentation is over, Pyxis instructs, “They’d like to take your picture next to the ODM gear. The photographers are taking some shots of the other projects, so feel free to take your time heading to the Rose Center.” 
On the walk, Eren passes the trophy to Sasha. “What to hold it, Sash?”
“Sure! Still can’t believe we won!”
Connie puts his arm around her, staring at the prize. “I know it doesn’t really mean anything, but damn, is it nice to look at.”
Eren catches up to you, nudging you in the arm. “Would it have killed you to smile during your little speech?”
You shove your elbow into his ribs, a little harder than necessary. “I was smiling.” 
“You call that a smile? You looked like you were in a hostage situation. Like, blink three times if they’re hurting you type of deal,” he teases, that cocky smirk plastered on his face. 
“Like you were any better!” You stick your tongue out, mocking him. “Alpha Tau for life, bros!”
“I really meant it. I needed all the fucking help I could get, dealing with you this whole semester. If it weren’t for them, I would have gone fucking crazy because of you.”
“Oh right, because I’m the one driving you crazy, sure,” you respond, sarcastically.
“Hey, at least you’re admitting it! You’re finally making progress!” He claps in front of your face.
You shove him, glaring. “You are such a jerk.”
“Don’t be so sensitive, baby.”
“Oh, I am not your baby.”
Sasha jumps in between, yelling, “Enough! Both of you, stop it!!”
Connie joins in. “Yeah, we won today. Stop ruining the mood.”
Without you realizing it, the four of you have made it to the Rose Center, which is luckily vacant in the midst of your little spat with Eren. This is how your arguments usually go, all because of something petty that never leads anywhere. When the photographer arrives, they direct you to stand beside your project, already displayed in one of the glass windows. They take a couple of shots, then it’s over. Just like that, your senior project is officially done. There’s a huge weight lifted off your shoulders. All that’s left to do is to graduate. 
The sun is setting by the time the photoshoot is finished. The four of you exit the building, Sasha immediately announcing, “I’m hungry! Let’s get dinner one last time as a team!”
“I’m down for that. Any ideas where to go?” 
“Paradise Pizza?”
“No, we’ve had that way too many times this year. Let’s go somewhere special tonight.”
“There’s that all-you-can-eat Korean barbecue place downtown,” you suggest. “It’s only fifteen minutes away if we take the train.”
“Ooohh, I like the sound of that!”
“I’m down. Eren?”
He shrugs, hands in his pockets. That too-cool-to-care attitude apparent in his body language. “If that’s what everyone else wants, then I guess it’s fine.” If it had been either Sasha or Connie to suggest it, you know for a fact that he would have a more positive response. Because it’s you, he has to act like he’s being forced into it, reluctant to concede with absolutely everything you propose. 
You go your separate ways to change out of professional attire and into more comfortable clothes, agreeing to meet outside Eren’s in an hour. His apartment is closest to the train station, making it the most convenient. By 7:00PM, you’re inside the restaurant, seated at a table, grill fired up as you browse through the menu. Sasha, the ultimate foodie of the group, orders the first round of meats. You pick the drinks. 
“Two bottles of strawberry soju, please!” you tell the waiter. 
“Oh, I love soju!” Sasha squeals. 
You smile at her. “Me too. This flavor’s my favorite.”
Eren, who is somehow seated next to you, grunts. “Strawberry? Of course you’d pick some girly shit like that.”
“Hey man, don’t knock it till you try it,” Connie says. “This shit gets you fucked up fast. Trust me. I’ve gotten soju drunk before, and it’s awesome.”
He rolls his eyes in response. “Yeah, that’s because of all the extra fucking sugar, I bet. Sounds gross.”
The waiter arrives with the alcohol and four glasses, along with waters to share. You do the honors and pour everyone, except Eren, a shot. “I’m guessing you don’t want any of this gross soju, then?”
He snatches the shot glass, thrusting it towards you. “I didn’t say that. Just pour me some.” 
With glasses filled to the brim, you all cheers, then throw it back. The familiar flavor is refreshing and sweet on your tongue, smooth down your throat. 
“Shit, that’s good!” Connie raves.
“Strawberry might be my new favorite flavor! It’s so yummy!”
You face Eren, grinning. “Well?”
He shrugs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s alright.”
“Don’t lie to me. You like it, don’t you?” you tease, nudging him in the arm.
“I said it’s fine, okay?”
You stop pestering him, satisfied knowing that maybe you were finally right about something when it comes to him.
Soon, a plethora of tasty side dishes are scattered on the table. Rice, kimchi, fresh lettuce, potato salad, two helpings of steamed eggs to share. Three heaping plates of meat follow. Sasha begins barbequing, laying out portions of beef bulgogi on the hot grill as the rest of you watch hungrily, the steam and aroma surrounding you like a cozy embrace. Once it’s cooked, you help yourselves, stuffing your faces with perfectly grilled meat and whatever else you desire. Several bites in, you all decide to do another round of shots, first bottle almost finished.
“Good idea to do KBBQ tonight!” Sasha mentions. “I haven’t had it in a while. I forgot how much I love it.”
Connie chimes in, “Same! Which side dish is everyone’s favorite?”
Sasha immediately points to the potato salad. “Is there any doubt that mine would be this?”
“Of course we all know that potato girl. I like kimchi. What’s yours?”
You pick out your favorite. “This one, for sure.”
Eren makes an unapproving noise. “Of course you’d pick that. So basic.”
To keep the peace, especially on this night of celebration, you ignore the temptation to reply with an equally sassy comment. Instead, you ask, “Well, what’s your favorite, Eren?” 
“The steamed egg. It’s delicious and packs an extra serving of protein.” He flexes his bicep with a smug expression. “Not that I really need it.”
Connie and Sasha laugh, while you take a deep breath, using every ounce of willpower to keep your cool. You crack open the bottle, downing the remaining alcohol to help you get through the rest of the night.
“What’s everyone’s plans after graduation?” Connie asks.
Sasha answers first. “I’ll be working with my dad for our family business.”
“I’m sure Artur will appreciate all the new, high-tech engineering skills you have! If I’m still unemployed in two months, can you please hire me?”
“Of course!”
“What about you, Eren?”
“I got an offer in Marley,” he reveals. “It’s a pretty good gig, but I don’t know about moving overseas. I got another in Stohess to work for their weapons warehouse, so maybe I’ll accept that instead.”
“I’ve never been overseas,” you comment. “Sounds interesting if you do decide to go.” 
“Well, you’re wrong. It doesn’t sound interesting at all.”
Even your attempt at being polite is met with malice. “You always argue with me for the sake of arguing.”
He turns to face you, brows furrowed. “No I don’t!”
“You’re literally doing it right now! I was just trying to be nice.”
“Well, try harder,” he grumbles, picking meat off the grill.
“My god, you two are exhausting!” Sasha intervenes. 
Connie nods. “Seriously, don’t you get tired of fighting all the time?”
“Honestly, you two should do it and get it over with.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Eren leers at Sasha through the smoke. 
“I’m saying get all your anger out by fucking each other. Hate sex is the best medicine for situations like this,” she explains, matter of fact.
“No fucking way,” Eren says. “It’s not like that.”
“Definitely not,” you reiterate, cheeks warm. You pour yourself another shot, already on the second bottle, not offering a serving to anyone else. Desperate for liquor with the direction this conversation is going.
“Wow, you two actually agree on something for once!” Connie teases. “See? Isn’t this nice?”
The duo giggle together, finding enjoyment from your current state of misery. Eren clears his throat, muttering something unintelligible. He reaches for the soju in front of you, avoiding your gaze as he tips it into his empty shot glass, instantly downing it. Before the silence gets awkward, you change the subject, mentioning some idle gossip you heard around the engineering department, to which Connie and Sasha have plenty to contribute to. 
An hour later, the four of you manage to finish most of the food, only a few pieces of charred meat left over. Sasha and Connie rub their stomachs, satisfied by the feast. You and Eren end up finishing the last bottle between the two of you. Since the comment from earlier, neither of you have spoken directly, avoiding each other. 
Connie slumps into the chair, patting his belly. “Let’s play a game while we digest! Truth or eat. If you don’t answer, you have to eat these burnt pieces of bulgogi.”
Eren laughs. “That sounds fun. I’m down.” He looks to you, brow raised, challenging. “You in, princess?”
You bite your cheek, holding in the clever retort at his annoying nickname for you, also relieved he’s back to normal. “Sure, why not?”
“I’ll go first,” Sasha volunteers, sitting up in her seat. “Eren, who’s the freakiest brother in Alpha Tau?” 
Without hesitating, he states, “Armin, for sure.”
“Armin?! Really?”
“Yup. He’s one kinky motherfucker,” he grins. He turns to face you. “Why do you hate me so much?”
“You want the whole essay, or an abridged version?” you reply, smirking as you sip on your water.
Sasha giggles while Connie mutters under his breath, “Oh boy.”
Eren doesn’t let up. “Give me one reason.”
Contemplating which of the many grievances you should expose about him, you finally decide on one. “You always disagree with me, no matter what. Whether it’s something about the project, or something as simple as a side dish preference.”
“We already know that, though. What else?”
“Hey, you wanted one reason, and I gave it to you.” You think for a few seconds, adding, “And to be fair, hate is a strong word. I don’t hate you.”
It’s true. While he annoys you beyond your wit’s end, you don’t hate him. He’s a quarter of the reason you all achieved what you did. You focus back on the table, avoiding Eren’s expression. “Connie, have you two ever hooked up?” you question, pointing at the duo.
“Gross! No!”
“Absolutely not. We’re practically twins. That’d be illegal.”
“Yup. We’re basically two halves of a whole idiot.” 
You laugh with them, taking another sip of water as Connie poses a question to Eren. “Why do you give her such a hard time?” he asks, referring to you. 
“Here we go,” you mumble, ready for an onslaught of ridiculous reasons.
It’s silent for a few moments, then he takes his chopsticks, grabbing at the charred meat on the grill, placing it into his mouth to eat quietly.
“What?!” Sasha yells. “You’re not going to tell us?” 
Connie smirks. “Must be pretty bad, then.”
You watch him slowly chew the burnt food, a small smile on his face. As if there’s a secret he’s keeping from everybody else at the table. Why would he refuse to answer the question that he basically asked you? Is his hatred for you that intense that he chooses not to say it, to save you from humiliation? What could you have possibly done to him to warrant this kind of treatment? Maybe it’s the liquor leading you to jump to conclusions, to be slightly offended by his choice. Maybe even a little hurt. 
When he’s done, he chugs his whole water. “Alright, my turn again.”
“Wait, really?”
“We’re just going to pretend that didn’t happen?”
“Yup,” he responds, nonchalant. 
“Why?”
“Hey, I ate that shit, right? Let it go,” he states, more aggressively this time.
You remain silent, mind racing with all types of ideas. You pay no more attention to the game, contemplating all the possible reasons Eren Jaeger would hate you so much. To be fair, he’s the one who starts it first. All you do is defend yourself. Why would he have any bigger reason to dislike you more than you dislike him?
Connie yells out your name, breaking you out of your reverie. “Hey, are you in?”
“Huh?”
“Karaoke! There’s a bar down the street.”
After paying the check, split evenly, the four of you head to the karaoke bar, booking a private room for an hour. You all sing your hearts out while sobering up from whatever buzz you developed from the soju. Any strange concerns you had about Eren evaporate. The two of you even seem to get along, performing a few duets together.
On the train ride back near campus, the four of you share more laughs, enjoying possibly the last time you’ll be together. With everyone graduating and off to their own paths, it’s hard to tell when, or if, you’ll ever see each other again.  
From the station, you start you trek home, pausing outside Eren’s apartment to chat a bit more, until Sasha says, “I guess this is goodbye!”
“Yeah, thanks for all your hard work. This was really fun,” Connie adds, smiling. 
“We should all try to keep in touch.”
Eren hugs Connie, then Sasha. The two of you look at each other, contemplating if you should embrace also. Suddenly, you blurt out, “Actually, can I use your bathroom? I have to pee.”
You really do have to pee, but surely, you could have made it the extra ten minutes to your own apartment to do so, right? For some reason, your mind convinces you to stay with him just a little longer. There’s a pending task you have to complete before you part ways for good. You hope for closure, to end things on a good note. 
You, Connie, and Sasha exchange hugs, leaving with a final wave, disappearing into the distance. Despite the pleasant warmth of the summer night, there’s a noticeable chill in the air. Not from the weather, rather, from the growing tension surrounding you and Eren. His voice is quiet when he says, “Alright, I guess we can head in now.”
You nod, following him through the entrance. At the elevator, he swipes a keycard, pushing the button to go up to the third floor. The doors open and you step in, still not speaking a word. Arriving at his door, he unlocks it, holding it for you. 
“Bathroom is down to the right,” he points, removing his shoes at the entrance.
You copy him, sliding out of your sneakers. “Okay cool. Thank you.” 
Once you find the bathroom, you swiftly close the door, fully aware that you are inside Eren Jaeger’s apartment. Naturally, curiosity gets the best of you. With a quick glance around the room, you can tell he’s tidy. Towels hung properly, actual floor mats on the tiles, toilet seat down. Is he anticipating a visit from a friend? Maybe a lover? You can’t help letting your imagination run wild. 
Finished with your business, you walk out of the bathroom to find him sitting on the couch, television playing a show you’re familiar with. “Have you seen this episode yet? The new season just started,” you mention, stepping towards him.
He stands up, turning to face you. “I haven’t. Was planning to watch it tonight.”
“Cool,” is all you manage to utter. 
There’s another moment of awkward silence until he asks, “You want to watch it with me?”
Without thinking, you agree.
The two of you sit on opposite ends of the couch, watching in silence. About halfway through, with a soft chuckle, he admits, “That strawberry soju wasn’t bad. Actually, it was pretty good.”
This catches you off guard. You look at him, grinning. “Wow. It took you this long to finally come clean about it.”
“Better late than never, right?” He keeps his eyes forward, smirking. 
You adjust, completely facing him. “Since you’re being honest about that, can you tell me why you didn’t answer Connie’s question?”
He plays dumb. “What question?”
“Why do you give me such a hard time?”
He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “You’re still thinking about that?”
“Yeah, I am,” you confess. “Seems a little odd to me that wouldn’t just say it.”
Finally, he matches you, repositioning himself to set his gaze on yours. “Why do you care so much?”
“I’m curious. Since we’ll be graduating soon, we’ll probably never see each other again. I figured we should put everything out there. Get some closure. Make amends.”
He scoffs. “I wasn’t aware there were any amends to make.”
You’re getting annoyed now, impatient with his round-about comments. “Seriously? You think our relationship is normal?”
“I don’t think we have a relationship at all.”
You stand up, regretting being here in the first place. He’s the same asshole he’s always been. What we’re you expecting? Why would he be any different tonight? 
“Fine. Forget it. What a waste of time. Good job on the project, and I hope you have a great life.” You stomp towards the exit, not bothering to look at him.
Suddenly, his hand shoots out, gripping you loosely around the wrist. “Wait. Don’t go.”
You glare at him, eyes narrowed in frustration, skin tingly from the physical contact. Waiting for him to elaborate.
“I’m sorry, okay?” he stammers. “I’m not…I can’t really…” he trails off, not finishing his sentences.
When he doesn’t proceed, you ask, “Why do you hate me so much?”
“I don’t hate you.”
“Then why do you treat me this way? Why me?”
He swallows hard, the truth difficult for him to spit out. “It’s dumb.” 
“I don’t care. Just tell me.”
He lets out a sigh, averting his gaze to the floor. “It’s because I like you, okay?” 
It takes a moment for you to process what he’s saying. Eventually, you stammer, “You like me?”
“Yeah, I like you,” he reiterates, still staring at his own feet. “You’re cute. You’re the smartest person I know. And you’re also a fucking pain in my ass. But I like you.”
That last part would normally have you on the verge of swinging; however, it’s almost endearing the way he says it. Your sudden change in heart has you questioning if you’re drunk from the liquor you consumed hours ago. “Why would you treat me like this if you like me?”
Another deep sigh as he explains, “I don’t know. Because I’m a fucking idiot and I’m immature. I told you, it’s dumb.”
“It’s not dumb. I just…I didn’t expect this.”
More silence falls between you two. You look down at his big hand still holding you, racing heartbeat reverberating through your chest. You’re not sure how to react. So, you go with your instinct. 
You kiss him.
~~~
Eren doesn’t know why he started it months ago at the beginning of the semester. If he’s being completely honest, he’s got the body of Greek god, the intelligence of a genius, and the maturity, or in this case, immaturity, of a fifth grader. That being said, whatever it is that he has going with her, he’s decided to classify it as a schoolboy crush. Like a kid on the playground picking on another kid, doing everything they can to garner all their attention, no matter how annoying it is. 
It began with snide remarks here and there, nothing ever too cruel to be considered bullying, but enough to make her bite back. He’s not sure why he kept it up so long, especially after realizing he actually likes her. In his mind, negative attention is better than no attention at all. He can’t be normal around her; being a nuisance is what he’s comfortable with.
Another reason is that he’s intimidated by her. She could see right through his cocky demeanor. Break him down into the vulnerable little shit he really is. The grief he caused her is some bizarre defense mechanism, a way to deny his true feelings for her. All to protect himself and his heart. 
He was supposed to go to a frat party tonight after hanging out with the team. Instead, he finds himself alone with her in his apartment, everything revealed, his confession hanging heavy in the air. 
Even more unexpected is her leaning forward to kiss him, lips soft and gentle against his. Hesitant and uncertain. Sweet and tangy from the lingering essence of the strawberry soju from earlier. Before he gets carried away, he pulls off, whispering, “Are you sure about this?”
“No,” she admits. “But I can’t deny that I’m curious.”
“We shouldn’t do this then. It doesn’t feel right.”
“Just…shut up and let me check something.”
He obeys, closing his eyes, waiting for her move. She kisses him again, more confidentially this time, hand sliding to his nape to pull him closer. 
“Fuck, are you sure this is okay?” he breathes out, slowly losing his composure.
She nods, smiling. “Yes.”
“You’re positive?”
“Yes.”
“Absolutely certain?”
“If you ask me one more time, you’re really going to piss me off,” she warns, grazing her mouth along his neck, sucking at the skin of his throat.
He nods erratically. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Fuck.”
She pushes him back towards the couch, falling into the cushions. He watches in awe as she strips her sweatpants, revealing pink lacey panties.  She sits in his lap, legs spread wide with him between, clothed pussy against his pulsating cock. His hands are to his sides, clenched to the cushion of the couch. With her lips brushing his ear, she whispers, “You can touch me if you want.”
His cock twitches, erection growing by the second as she straddles him. Carefully, he slides his palms around her waist, moaning a trembling, “Thank you.” Hands at her bottom, he squeezes her ass cheeks in a firm grasp, fingers slipping underneath the fabric, dangerously close to her arousal.
Without thinking, he blurts out, “Use me. Do what you want with me. You’re the leader.”
There’s a wicked smile on her face as soon as he says it. “Eren Jaeger is going to let me use him?”
All pride is thrown out the window. He doesn’t care anymore about giving into weakness. With graduation only two weeks away, and no promise of ever seeing each other again, he decides fuck it. He’s going to do whatever he can to fulfill this fantasy of his. And if that means submitting to her, begging and groveling at her feet, he’ll fucking do it. 
“Yeah,” he growls. “Use me as your fuck toy. I’ll do whatever you want. Just fucking use me.”
“Didn’t think Alpha Tau’s frat star would behave like this,” she murmurs, sucking on his ear lobe. 
“Does it turn you on?”
“Maybe.”
“Good. Fucking wreck me apart then. Don’t hold back,” he demands. There’s already precum leaking from his tip, soaking through the cotton of his briefs. “Consider it payback for this semester.”
She responds by grinding her hips on his lap. He’s desperate to feel her without fabric separating them, but he knows what he agreed to. He can’t do anything without her permission, without her initiating. She rides him for another minute, his palms on her ass, following her motions. His cock throbs beneath her, aching for release from the confines of his pants. There’s an audible whine developing in his throat, needy for anything.
On cue, she swings her leg over to kneel beside him, tugging at the waistband of his sweats and underwear. He lifts his hips as she slides them off simultaneously, freeing his stiff cock. He watches her marvel at his erection, noticing desire in her eyes. Before he knows it, she’s bent towards his lap, mouth hovering his dick, licking at the slit. 
“Fuck,” he moans. “Goddamn.”
She continues to tease him, leaving the shaft untouched, tongue swirling the tip, lapping at his precum. 
“Fuck, please. Touch me,” he begs, legs quivering from arousal. 
Without warning, she wraps her fist around him, surrounding the tip with her mouth, bobbing up and down in sync with her strokes. She starts slow, increasing the pace with each guttural moan that emits within his chest. The temptation to buck his hips into her warm, wet heat is tantalizing, but he reminds himself that she’s in control, which only turns him on more.
She uses her other hand to fondle his balls, causing him to swear loudly. “Fuck!”
He feels the vibration of her giggle through his cock, clearly enjoying the way she’s unravelling him, his orgasm approaching fast. “Can I please come?”
She shakes her head, still working his dick. 
“Fuck. I can’t…I can’t hold it.” 
She releases him from her mouth, stroking him, face close to his. “You think you deserve to come now?”
He nods eagerly. “Yes.”
“Apologize first.”
“Huh?”
“Apologize. Admit that you’re a fucking asshole.” She nibbles on his ear lobe, dragging it down between her lips, still jerking him off. 
“I’m sorry. I’m a,” he chokes on his spit before he can finish. “Fucking asshole.”
“Tell me your desperate for it. That you need it.” 
“Fuck, I’m so fucking desperate, I fucking need it. Please.”
“Good,” she whispers, pumping him faster. She kisses him on the lips, grip tight around him as his cock swells, hanging by a thread at the edge of his climax. “Go ahead. Come for me, Eren.”
At the sound of his name on her sultry lips, he does, hot cum shooting straight onto his t-shirt. “Fuck!” he yells, eyes shut tight, riding out one of the best orgasms of his life. She strokes him until his balls are completely drained. Finally, he opens his eyes to inspect the scene, shocked by the mess painted across the bottom of his shirt, spilling onto his abdomen. 
“Holy shit,” he mutters, smiling at her.
She grins back at him. “Not bad, right?”
“Not bad at all. Really fucking good, actually.” He kisses her, fingers drifting down to her arousal, rubbing the fabric against her clit. “Come here. Let me eat this pretty pussy out. Please. I want it so bad.”
“Since you said it so nicely, I guess I can let you have a taste.” 
~~~
You stand up, leaving room for him to lay down on the couch. He doesn’t need to be told. He expects you to ride that pretty face of his. When he’s flat on his back, shirt stripped off and completely naked, he turns to watch you slip out of your panties.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he praises, reaching down to rub his balls. “I think about this a lot, you know.”
You toss your underwear to the floor, watching him play with himself, removing your remaining clothes. “What do you think about?”
“This. You, naked in my apartment. Riding my face till you come. Fucking your wet pussy right after.”
“I guess tonight’s your lucky night,” you tease, lifting your knee across him, straddling his face. 
“Yes, it is,” he replies, licking his lips, eyes wide with lust at your pussy above him, already wet with arousal. He cranes his neck upwards, tongue out, desperate for a taste.
“Not yet.” You lift up enough so he’s out of reach. “Watch me play with myself first.”
“Fuck,” he swears, salivating.  
You wet your middle finger with your slick, rubbing circles around your clit. He watches in a daze, biting his lower lip, brows knit together in concentration, focused on you pleasuring yourself right above him. He squirms beneath you, thrusting his hips into the air, in an effort to feel anything. “Get it fucking juicy for me, baby. I want to fucking drown in it.”
The little nicknames you’ve grown accustomed to hating has a very different ring to it now. For the first time all semester, you don’t mind it. You actually like it. With your free hand, you run your fingers through his hair, redirecting his gaze on yours. “That’s right. I’m your baby. And what are you?”
He swallows hard. “I…I don’t know.”
“You’re my fuck toy.”
“Fuck yeah. I’m your fuck toy, baby. I’m your fuck toy. Use me, please.”
With your grip firm on his hair, you sink lower, your pussy pressed to his open mouth. He licks your clit, swiping his wide tongue over it, moving side to side. You moan at the glorious sensation, rocking your hips across his face to feel more. He latches onto your swollen bud, humming in pleasure as he suckles on it. His hips rut into nothing again, arms at his sides, clutching hard at the cushions, letting you be in total control. This power he gives you turns you on more than you imagined. Maybe because all semester, he always acted as if he had the upper hand. Knowing how desperate he is to be beneath you, to please you beyond any other desire he has, it only spurs you on. 
You grind yourself on his face, the squelching noises indicating how sloppy he’s eating you out and how wet you’re becoming because of it. He’s relentless, alternating between licking, slurping, and sucking at your clit. You blissfully indulge in it until you climax on his tongue, bud over-stimulated, pussy soaked with his spit and your slick. 
“Fuck,” he muffles, slurping the cum from your sleek entrance. Legs wobbly from your orgasm, you lift off him, shifting to reposition yourself comfortably on top. His cock is hard beneath you, sticky with his cum from earlier. Through shiny lips, he whines, “I’m so fucking hard again. Fuck me. Fuck me with that wet pussy.”
Reaching behind you, you align him with your slit, sinking down on his shaft. He lets out a gasp, “I’m so fucking sensitive, fuck.” Concerned, you attempt to lift off, but he shakes his head fervently. “Don’t. Please baby. Fuck me till I come. I need it. I need it.”
You ride him, bouncing your ass on his lap, thrusting his cock deep inside you. He moans loudly, babbling filthy words from his needy mouth.
Use this cock, baby. Fuck me like a toy. 
Make yourself come on this dick. 
It’s all fucking yours. Take it, baby. Take it. 
I’m all yours. I’m all yours.
You moan with him, another climax approaching. Grabbing his wrist, you guide him to your clit. He caresses your puffy bud with his fingers. “I’m going to come,” you whimper.
“Can I come with you, princess? Please, can I come inside you?”
You nod wordlessly, pumping him in and out of you faster as he rubs your clit relentlessly, determined to make you orgasm. When you cry out in ecstasy, he joins you. “Fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming, baby.”
For the second time tonight, both of you come, this time together. He spills inside you, filling your cunt with his warm, creamy load as you coat his dick with yours. Your body is spent from the euphoria, throat dry from whining in pleasure, and your curiosity satiated. It’s a lie to say you’ve never imagined being fucked silly by Eren. No matter how much he annoyed you, irritated you, aggravated you, there were moments this semester when you thought about it. How good it would feel to ride him, fuck him dumb until he’s begging for release. 
“I’m exhausted,” he giggles, limp on the couch, softening cock still inside you, wrapping you in a snug embrace.
“Me too.” You settle into his arms, relaxed and comfortable against his chest. 
“Thank you,” he mutters, caressing your back tenderly. “Thank you.” He doesn’t elaborate, repeating it a few more times as he nuzzles his nose into the top of your head.
You cuddle together in a comfortable silence. “Sleep here tonight. I have an extra toothbrush and you can wear my clothes.” 
Accepting his offer, the two of you start tidying, picking up strewn wardrobe from the floor, wiping away the sticky aftermath of sex. You hop in the shower, rinsing your bodies clean, exchanging passionate kisses while the water splashes you. After you dry off and brush your teeth, you change into an oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxers he lends you, jumping into the bed beside him. He smiles at you. “You look good in my clothes.”
You give him a smooch, getting yourself cozy under the covers. He spoons you, arm sliding over your waist, interlacing his fingers with yours. His breath is pleasantly warm on your neck. “I know we’re probably past this already, but I want to formally apologize. It wasn’t right the way I treated you, and I’m sorry. Genuinely.”
“Apology accepted,” you respond, squeezing his hand. “I’m sorry too. For saying anything that hurt you out of anger.”
“You don’t have to be. I deserved it.”
“Still, I’m sorry. And no one deserves that.”
“All is forgiven then.” He chuckles softly. “For two smart people, we sure are dumb.”
You laugh with him. “If only we were a tad bit smarter, we could have started this months ago.”
“Yeah," he says, nestling his face against your neck. "You’re right.”
Nothing else is said as the two of you drift into sleep. It’s nice, having closure on a previously volatile relationship. However, something else lingers after tonight. Another door opens, leading to the unknown. He confessed his true feelings for you. You didn’t have time to process it, too focused on settling your truce through sex. While there’s no doubt that you find him physically attractive, can you really move on from the past and give him a chance? 
~~~
The words are on the tip of his tongue, and he decides to keep it that way, not wanting to disrupt this moment of peace. Not wanting to complicate it any further. He knows that this is the beginning and the end of whatever this fling is. She hasn’t reciprocated his feelings and he won’t pressure her to, not tonight. Maybe not ever. No matter how badly he wishes to see her again, keep in touch, make it official, he won’t ask that of her. At the end of the day, it’s his own fault for waiting too long, for being too late. Time has run out, and now he’s paying the price.
They stay in each other’s arms, Eren listening closely to the sound of her steady breathing. Cherishing how her fingers fit seamlessly in his, the small smile on her lips as she drifts into a tranquil slumber, the warmth and weight of her body against his.  
The next morning, he wakes up, alone. If not for the stack of clothes he let her borrow folded neatly at the end of the bed, he would have thought last night’s events were all a dream. He vaguely recalls her waking up beside him, placing a chaste kiss on his forehead, sneaking out on her tippy toes at the crack of dawn. Still, he searches the apartment, calling out her name to no response. 
Throughout the week, he’s constantly on the verge of texting her. He never goes through with it, though, scared to be rejected. Afraid of having the final memory of her be one of heartbreak. 
As a last-ditch effort, he devises a plan. Eren hosts a party at his place to celebrate the upcoming graduation. He invites the Alpha Tau brothers, plus some sorority girls for good measure. However, his main objective is to invite her. He ends up sending a group text to his senior project team, casually informing them of his little gathering. Sasha and Connie both reply, announcing their attendance, but she doesn’t.
At the party, he tries not to think about her, distracting himself by socializing with the crowds of people already filling his apartment. When Connie and Sasha arrive together, he decides to try one more time before he consumes his sorrows away. After exchanging polite greetings with them, he asks, “Have you guys heard anything from her?”
“Nope. I don’t think she even texted back, right?”
Eren’s ready to reach for the closest container of booze he can find. The duo walks past him to enjoy the party while he remains standing, watching the door for another minute. Just as he’s about to turn his heel, he sees it open slowly. 
She walks in, her favorite drink in hand, a happy expression on her face as soon as she spots him. In the background, someone yells out, “Eren! Tequila shots?”
Waving the familiar bottle at him, she smiles.
“Nah,” Eren responds, gazing at her with a grin. “I’m sticking with strawberry soju from now on.”
--------------------
Taglist: @liliorsstuff-blog @batafuraikisu @bloompompom @belovedackerman @wtfiswrongwithme1
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sk3erkrou · 1 year
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My Thoughts on Hogwarts Legacy
This is something that has been on my mind recently as more discourse about the topic is coming to the forefrunt of the internet. Hogwarts Legacy and, honestly, the Harry Potter franchise as a whole.
As I see things, there are 5 groups of people when it comes to "THAT wizard game."
"Hey, I don't want to play it because of my own personal reasons. But if you want to play it, I hope you have fun."
"Hey, I do want to play this game because of my own, personal reasons, but I understand that you're not interested. That's cool."
"This game gives money to a transphobe?! Awesome! I just bought two copies."
"You want to play this game for your own reasons? You're a transphobe piece of shit. I won't stop until you know you're a piece of shit."
"Harry Potter? Hogwarts Legacy? I haven't played video games since I lost 2 weeks of my life to Banjo Kazooie in 1998."
If you fall into either category 1, 2, or 5, then right on. You're doing the right thing. Keep it up.
However, if you fall into either category 3 or 4, you are a fucking problem and you need to cut the shit and grow up.
Personally, I fall into category 1. I feel I have made my views on the game and franchise fairly clear. But also, I have a good friend who learned to read because of Harry Potter. I grew up with the franchise and it was a huge part of my childhood, and recognizing that I no longer want to engage in the franchise felt like a huge loss to me, and took some time to reconcile with myself. But, again, I have made that decision based on the larger franchise and not simply this one game. And, also again, these are my OWN PERSONAL REASONS. If you're interested, I will gladly share my thoughts in a civil manner, and only ask that you understand my thinking, not that you agree with me, or try to convince me to change my mind.
Now, to address category 3. Deep breath, here.
If you are doing anything at all because you know it will make the lives of people worse, then fuck you right to hell. Yes, this group of people also generally goes hand in hand with a specific red hat and an orange demagogue. If you find yourself in this category, get help. Go to therapy and ask about this concept called "empathy."
Category 4.
I will repeat: if you are doing anything at all because you know it will make the lives of people worse, then fuck you right to hell. Setting up websites to track Twitch streamers to see who is playing Hogwarts Legacy? Going to channels and harrassing the streamers for wanting to play the game? I would argue that people in this category or worse than those in category 3 because while those in 3 as assholes, they are blowing money on something they don't actually care about to try triggering someone while people in this group are going out and actively attacking people for engaging something that they want to experience for, and repeat after me, THEIR OWN PERSONAL REASONS. I saw in one chat that someone mentioned they wished executions were legal because people were doing something they didn't like. Sounds an awful lot like some people who built some gallows outside of a notable large building in the US back in the beginning of January 2021, doesn't it?
Here's where things really boil down on Hogwarts Legacy. The game is made. It's done. Rowling has been paid or will be getting paid. You attacking people for enjoying the game isn't going to stop that. But there's a lot more people than just her in the mix, here. Think about all the hundreds of people who have spent YEARS working on making this game, and trying to make it the best game possible. They have also been paid and are continuing to get paid. Controversy has surrounded Hogwarts Legacy pretty much since it was announced. And it wasn't cancelled.
Here's where I see things going with the game: it is the outrage of the day. Somewhat surprisingly, the outrage of Hogwarts Legacy's release is overshadowing the much more recent information about Justin Roiland. People will continue to be upset by this game for a while, and eventually that will fade, as all outrage does.
But you know what won't pass? The hurt caused by people to other people over this game. Your friend, who you disagree with about the game, sitting in their home, playing the game, is not going to hurt you. Streamer playing the game and you don't want to watch it? THEN FUCKING DON'T. Full stop. For fuck's sake, people were buying subs to a twitch stream just so they could continue harrassing the streamers after they made the chat sub-only. Fuck you. Grow up. And like I told the people in group 3, get therapy.
Actually, everyone should go to therapy, but that isn't the point of this.
Here's what my point of view boils down to: let people enjoy what they enjoy and stop shitting on things just because people enjoy them. Yes, the situation here is more complex and nuanced than that, but every situation is. And if any part of this rambling has made you angry or upset for any reason, I'd like you to think about why that is. I am not advocating for people to play the game or not play the game. Honestly, I just couldn't give a fuck what you want to play in the privacy of your own home. I just want people to be better. Treat people better. Be better people. Recognize that everyone on this planet is, at the very least, deserving of being treated like a person and deserving of love. And if you can't understand that fact, did you really understand Harry Potter at all?
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mavrintarou · 3 months
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[Daddies in December] Hatake Kakashi
Happy New Year! I hope you had a fantastic holiday. I know it's technically January now but I have a few drafts still and I think I can FINALLY get them out. This is long, I just couldn't stop.
Warning: Angst, reconnection, and smut
.
“I hope you all have a wonderful holiday, thank you for taking my class. If you’re in my next class, see you next year.” Kakashi ended his last class for the semester, dismissing his students.
One by one, each of them thanked and complimented him on his class, giving him great feedback.
At last, the door to his class closed and he took a deep breath.
Reaching for his phone in his pocket, he has a few unread messages but none from Y/n.
Ever since she dropped the bomb on him about her pregnancy exactly a week ago, neither has spoken to the other.
Kakashi didn’t exactly take the news well, blurting something he shouldn’t have said and every time he thought about it, he wanted to beat himself up.
“It’s not mine.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. It couldn’t be Kakashi. One, he always wore a condom. Two, he was nearly forty-three and his doctor told him he had low sperm count!
He was not blind to the pain written on her face.
Their last encounter did not end very well.
He used this week as an excuse to get through the semester for his students; now, he must face the consequences.
Day and night, 24/7, Y/n was all he could think about.
He’ll admit that he let his anger get the best of him. He let his past trauma control and dictate his actions towards Y/n, who didn’t deserve any of it.
Kakashi could come up with a million excuses and reasons how it cannot be his child, for one, after his injury during a mission, he was told having any children was no longer an option.
But he couldn’t excuse the fact that she was a virgin when he bedded her and Y/n wasn’t one to have multiple men even if they were officially in a relationship. Their fling was exclusive for the most part. Even if Kakashi had used condoms every time they had sex and had been told he couldn’t have children… there was always a possibility…
He groaned, suddenly remembering a time when they had both just come. Still in a daze of euphoria, he slipped off the filled condom. Only with Y/n, does he ever ejaculate so much. His cock was still erect, oozing with leftover cum.
Kakashi’s eyes glaze over her wet pussy that coated with her wetness.
He had only had raw sex once in his entire life when he was still young and that was the first and the last time he had done so…
But he was so tempted just to be swallowed by Y/n’s hot and tight pussy.
“Just once,” he murmured before slipping his cock, raw, inside of her. Y/n gasped at the same time he groaned, feeling the same bliss of skin on skin. “Just want to be cock-warmed by your pussy…”
Even if he had just allowed her pussy to wrap around his raw cock for a few minutes, that could have resulted in this unplanned pregnancy.
Y/n had no reason to lie to him, she wasn’t one to manipulate and trap him with a child.
He’d known her since she was twelve, he was best friends with her brother who was in the same military unit as him. Who died saving him.  
.
Y/n knew she should have just left the fallen pen on the ground but her determined self wanted to be independent and pick it up.
Now, she was stuck in a crouching position, able to stand back up after successfully grabbing the pen.
Being almost eight months pregnant with twins, with only a solid four weeks left, she was large. Very large.
She gripped the edge of the table, taking deep breaths to build up the strength to stand without peeing in her underwear.
She needed help.
Her assistant Viv was out running a delivery and wouldn’t return for another ten minutes at the earliest. 
“Are you okay?”
Y/n’s head snapped up, eyes meeting the father of her unborn babies. When had he entered her shop? How did she miss the bell ringing at the door? She blinked before looking away embarrassed.
“Why are you down there?” He looked over, frowning.
Taking a deep breath and setting her pride aside, “Kakashi,” she called his name sharply.
“Yes?”
She looked up at him sternly, “I need your help.”
His eyes widen in a flash of panic. “What’s wrong?”
Placing both her hands on the table, she reached out to him, “I can’t get back up, help me.”
Quickly walking around the table, he looked at her, seeing she was crouching down, “are you hurt?”
Y/n shook her head, “no, I just – I just can’t get back up, my belly is too big. Just support me and help me stand.”
Going behind her, Kakashi took her outreached hand and wrapped the other gently below her bulging belly, “slowly…” he cooed lifting her until she could straighten up. As soon as she was back on her feet again she tugged her hand away, walking away from him.
She cleared her throat, wiping her hand on her overalls. “Thank you. What are you doing here?”
Kakashi’s eyes fell on her belly, the last time he saw her was two months ago. “I…” he inhales, “I want to talk.” He noticed her body switching to defense mode, and he took a careful step towards her. “Just talk, that’s all.”
“I’m not sure there is anything to discuss, nothing needs further clarification.” Her tone struggled to stay in control. “You made it clear where you stand.”
Kakashi expected her hostile attitude and gave her a small smile, “you don’t owe me any of your time but I ask kindly, please, can we talk about the baby?”
“No.”
He exhaled softly, she was going to make this difficult for him. “Okay,” he continued to smile at her, “I’ll come back tomorrow and try again.”
She glared at him, and he knew it was meant to make him fear her, but he found her adorable. “My answer will still be no.”
“Then I’ll come back the next day.”
.
The next day, Kakashi returned, with a basket of fruits. The fruits Y/n likes.
“Can we talk?”
“No.”
“Okay, I’ll come back tomorrow.”
.
Every day Kakashi returned with a gift and would leave with a sigh and his usual phrase as soon as Y/n turned him down, “okay, I’ll come back tomorrow.”
He stopped at the door and turned around, “please at least tell me what you would like for me to bring tomorrow. I’m running out of ideas.”
Before Y/n could tell him anything, Viv answered on her behalf, “Takoyaki please!”
Y/n turned her head, giving her a silent serious look.
“Takoyaki tomorrow then,” he waved before leaving.
“Seriously?” Viv groaned, “the man is doing all that to just talk to you. Can you imagine what he would do when you give in?”
Instead of answering her, Y/n turned her heels and headed to the cooler. Viv followed behind her, carrying the bag of chips and snacks. “I have seriously gained weight from all the gifts he has brought in.”
“Then stop eating it,” Y/n answered rather sharply.
“Well, you won’t eat it, so someone has to?”
Y/n ignored her, grabbing a few bundles of bouquets before heading back to the front of the shop.
“How do you guys know each other?”
Sighing, Y/n answered, “I’ve known him since I was twelve, my brother met him in school and since then he’s been pretty much part of the family.” She grabbed a white rose, one of her favorites. “They both enlisted into the military together and were deployed together.” Her breath hitched, “but Kakashi was the only one who returned home alive.”
Viv leaned over to hug her. She knew about her brother’s death and how it had affected her.
Y/n has barely spoken about Kakashi but it did not take much for Viv to put two and two together to confirm, she asked, “he’s the father of your babies?”
It was a long pause before Y/n answered quietly, “yes.”
“It seems like to me, he wants to be part of your life?”
For a second, Y/n zoned out. “He didn’t want us at first.”
“Key word, at first.” Viv clarified, leaning onto the table. “Not trying to create excuses for him but just stating that people can change overnight. He didn’t want you guys at first but what if he wants you guys now?” She stares silently at Y/n before walking away, “people can change and it could start with their actions.”
.
When Kakashi arrives the next day with two orders of Takoyakis, he glances around the shop looking for Y/n.
Viv greets him and answers his silent question, “she’s resting in the office, she kind of had a rough morning.”
“Ah,” Kakashi nodded, passing the bag of Takoyakis to her. “Maybe this might lighten her mood?”
Viv motioned for him to go on ahead to the back room, “it’s the first door to the left.”
Kakashi gently knocked on the door slightly closed door before slowly opening it. He catches sight of Y/n, her back facing towards him. “Hey…” He froze, hearing a sharp gasp.
Y/n moans, a hand clutching her belly.
A loud pop echoes the room followed by the sound of gushing fluid.
“Ah!”
Kakashi reaches Y/n before she can stumble forward. His eyes widen when he sees the floor wet. “Is that…”
“My water… my water just broke…” She gasps, her hand grips tightly around Kakashi’s arms as her contractions begin.
“What’s going on!” Viv burst through the door and gulped, “are the twins coming?”
“Twins?” Kakashi shouted, he looked at Y/n with wide eyes, “you’re expecting twins?”
.
Kakashi has been watching the chests of the two tiny humans rise and fall in one incubator. He had only discovered a few hours ago that all this time, Y/n was carrying twins.
He is now the father of not one, but two babies. A boy and a girl.
They were early by three weeks, his son is slightly smaller than his sister and has been crying from the separation of his sister after the cesarian surgery that the nurse has kept them together.
Y/n was recovering, and sleeping with the help of some medications and he left her alone to go visit the nursery.
The door to the nursery opened and the nurse peeked her head out, “would you like to come hold them?”
Dressed in a gown, Kakashi’s hands trembled as he neared his babies. They were so small.
“Would you like to hold one at a time or both of them?”
“Both,” Kakashi answered in a heartbeat.
He took a seat in the glider and the nurse carefully handled one baby at a time, setting one in each arm. He can feel his throat tightening at the immense emotions swelling within him.
Their hats were removed and after a wash and dry, Kakashi could see their physical traits.
Though it was faint, their hair was visibly silver just like their father's with Y/n’s eye color.
During the surgery, Kakashi kept his gaze and attention on Y/n, he had never felt so useless, unable to take away any of the pain she was feeling.
As soon as the surgery room echoed with the first cry, a tear slid from the corner of Y/n’s eyes. Kakashi reached to wipe it away, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
A second cry echoes the room along with the first baby and together, Kakashi and Y/n sighed in relief.
“Here are your babies!” the nurse carried them over, bringing them close.
Kakashi has never been a sentimental one but before he knew it, his cheeks were wet. Amidst the bustling room, his focus narrowed to the sight of the two infants’ cheeks nestled against the individual who had been nurturing them for the past few months.
He recalled reaching for his phone and capturing an image to cherish the moment.
Once they settled into a private room, the babies were brought back where Y/n got to hold the both of them for the first time. The nurse spent the next hour informing Y/n and Kakashi on how to care for the babies.
“Do you want to try and nurse them?” the nurse asked.
Y/n nodded, her gaze fixed on the two babies in her arms with affectionate eyes.
Kakashi was on the verge of exiting the room to give them some privacy when Y/n remarked, “it’s all right; you can stay.”
He stayed seated at the end of the bed, watching as the nurse helped Y/n untie her gown. He felt his cheeks flush when her breasts were exposed. Kakashi couldn’t help but notice how full and engorged they looked.
“Hey daddy, why don’t you come closer, you could learn a thing or two.” The nurse urges, waving him over.
Kakashi walked around the bed and sat beside Y/n. He tried to keep his heart rate down as he watched his son immediately suckle cutely the moment he tasted the liquid gold. He chuckles, his finger rubbing his chubby cheek.
His daughter remained snoozing. Kakashi reached to nudge her cheek gently, “hey you.” The tiny baby stirred and yawned adorably before whimpering.
Y/n giggled and brought her over to her other breast, urging and cooing the baby to suckle.
As soon as their feeding was over, Y/n was ordered to rest and the babies were brought back to the nursery. Not wanting to disturb Y/n, Kakashi made his way down to the nursery.
Cradling both infants in his arms felt surreal; he had only recently come to terms with the idea of expecting one baby, and now there were two. During the months when he and Y/n were apart, he discreetly acquired various items. However, he hadn’t presented them to Y/n, uncertain of her willingness to accept them.
An unsettling sense persisted with him, urging him to engage in a conversation with Y/n.
Kakashi truly wants to make it work between him and Y/n, not just for the sake of his babies now but because he really cares for her.
.
Y/n hadn’t voiced it yet, but she was thankful for Kakashi’s presence. Even if they are only working together for the sake of their babies.
She thought she would have to go through this all alone, and though she spent most of her pregnancy alone, she didn’t know what happened for Kakashi to change his mind at the last minute.
Whatever the reason was, she wasn’t going to question it because as much as she did not want to admit it, she needed Kakashi.
When she discovered she was expecting twins, she panicked. She had seen a single mother raise one kid and it already made her nervous but just her luck, she was going to be a single mother and raising two.
Y/n didn’t take the initiative to inform Kakashi about expecting twins, especially considering his initial reluctance towards taking responsibility. When the twins were finally born, she anticipated him making a hasty exit.
Upon waking from each hospital nap, her first thought was a concern about being alone in the room, wondering if he had discreetly left with no intention of returning.
It was as though he could sense it; Kakashi would enter her room and greet her with a smile as she awoke. Every time, he would inquire, “do you want to see the babies?”
He stayed with her for the four days of recovery and insisted on taking them home when they were finally released from the hospital.
Y/n was in no position to decline his offer, accepting it with a soft, “yes, please.” The car ride of them four was quiet. The babies slept through, tucked cozily in their car seats.
She didn’t want to assume or expect, she would take whatever Kakashi had to offer.
“Thank you for the ride,” she said quietly as soon as he parked in front of her apartment. She unbuckled her seat belt and froze when he turned off the engine to his car, unbuckling his seat belt as well. “you’re coming… inside?”
“Of course,” he said with a matter-of-fact tone, “you’re not supposed to be carrying anything more than a few pounds, remember?”
Kakashi carried both babies into the apartment, setting them down on the couch before returning to his car to gather the rest of the other items.
While it was just the three of them, Y/n cooed at her two sleeping babies. “Welcome home.”
.
“Kakashi,” Y/n called his name quietly, he turned his head, looking away from his daughter that’s nestled in the crook of his arm. “I appreciate you being here with us.” She inhaled softly, “but you are not obligated in any way to be here.”
It has been three days, three days of Kakashi giving them his undivided attention. He had told her that he would stay a few nights, only leaving home to shower and grab some items before returning.
Due to her cesarean surgery, she had restricted movements, with swift sitting and standing being prohibited. All remaining activities were geared towards minimizing the risk of reopening her wound.
She wouldn’t have been able to relax and stay off her feet if it wasn’t for the help of Kakashi. He had made their meals, handled the babies, and assisted Y/n with tending to her after-birth wound.
“I don’t want…” her voice croaked, “I don’t want you to feel obligated to be here, because you and I both know – “
“I want to be here. I want to be here because I am choosing to be here, not because I’m obligated,” Kakashi clarified softly. He adjusts his daughter in his arms, “I know there is nothing I can do to take back how I had initially reacted to the pregnancy. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. The only thing I can offer you now are my actions, maybe my words.” He scoots closer until he is sitting beside Y/n who is nursing their son. “I want to be with you and the babies. Through it all. I’m not going anywhere and if I am, it is wherever you three are.”
Y/n stares into Kakashi’s eyes, searching, searching for something she knew was not there. “So,” she whispers, “you want to be with us as their father?”
“Yes.” He answered without a second thought. “I want to do the honorable thing and marry you if you allow.”
“For the sake of the babies?”
Kakashi stammered for a second, “well, that too but I want to be a husband to you.”
“Do you… can you love me?”
Silence sat heavy between them before he answered, “I can learn to love you.” He wasn’t sure if the tears that filled her eyes were tears of joy or pain. They pooled at her lower eyelid, refusing to fall down her cheeks. “I – I don’t know how to love, but I can learn. If you can give me a leeway, I’ll learn to love you.”
Y/n turned away so he wouldn’t see her tears fall as she quickly wiped them with her sleeve. “Okay. I’m okay with that.”
.
Nine months have passed and within that time frame, Kakashi proposed in the presence of their two-month-old babies and moved into their place, taking over the spare room beside Y/n.
They formalized their marriage in the presence of an intimate gathering. Despite being married, they maintained separate sleeping quarters. Their connection remains amicable, marked by occasional displays of affection centered around the babies. Their lives persist with the primary emphasis and priority placed on their little ones.
Y/n continued her life running her flower shop and Kakashi resumed teaching at the university.
With two babies, time went by quicker than they anticipated and before they knew it, winter had arrived and Y/n’s business slowed while Kakashi was on winter break.
It was the night of New Year's Eve, the babies had gone to bed at their usual time leaving Kakashi and Y/n alone. Though they spent many nights alone together, it was exceptionally different, considering that their first night together had happened the same day two years ago.
“Did… you want to watch the ball drop with me?” Kakashi asked when Y/n had finished preparing her nightly tea.
Caught off guard Y/n froze for a split second before answering, “sure, if you don’t mind.”
“Never, never with you.”
Her heart fluttered and she turned away to hide her red cheeks. “Wou – would you like a cup of tea too?”
“Please,” he said softly.
When Y/n returned Kakashi had lit a few candles and had two throw blankets out but he was nowhere in the room. At that moment, he exits the baby's room, returning.
“Emi began fussing but she went right back to sleep with the pacifier.” He reached for the cup of tea.
Y/n stepped forward to hand him the cup when she stumbled, the hot tea spilled onto his hand.
“Oh my God!” she shouted, setting the cup on the coffee table before checking his hand. She immediately tugged her shirt, gently drying his hand to inspect the burn. It was red. “Let me go get some toothpaste!”
She returned with some gauze and the tube of toothpaste and quickly applied it all over his hand before bandaging it up. “I’m so sorry…”
“It’s okay,” he murmured.
Y/n looked up at him with worried eyes, not noticing that he had been quiet and allowing her to tend to his wound. He was happy to have this interaction with her.
Kakashi reached up to brush her hair behind her ear. “Y/n.”
Y/n could melt that instant hearing him call her name, she always loved how he said her name. “Yes?”
“I’m tired of living this way,” his eyes flashed at his choice of words and he quickly corrected himself, “I mean in a way of I am tired of living like we’re strangers but parents to our children.” His eyes search hers, to make sure she didn’t misunderstand his initial words. “I want to be more than a husband to you, I want to be your rock, the person you can rely on.” Kakashi inhales sharply before speaking the next few words. “I want to be someone you love.”
“I do love you, Kakashi,” Y/n replied, “I have loved you for many years since I was probably a teenager.” She rubbed her thumb over his bandaged hand. “You were my first crush and first love. I still love you.” She looked down at his hand, “but you always just saw me as Brian’s little sister.”
With his other hand, Kakashi cupped her face, guiding her to look at him. “It is true, I did see you as Brian’s little cute sister who was so shy when I was around, but when I returned from my first deployment and you were nineteen… a grown woman… believe me when I tell you that you were the most beautiful woman in my life since that day.” He closed his eyes and released a deep breath, “then Brian and I were deployed again and that day – “ he choked on his words. “Days before that day, he had said to me – as if he knew his days were counting down, he said to me ‘I know you have something going for Y/n, I see the way you stare at her. I’ve noticed it. If anything ever happens to me, take care of my sister for me, will ‘ya? You’re the only man I trust with her.’” His thumb reached up to swipe the tear that slipped from her eyes. “Y/n, I didn’t exactly grow up with love or how to love? I learned how to love and be loved the hard way or no way at all. Please – give me grace… teach me how to love, teach me how to be loved, and teach me how to be in love with you because I don’t want it with anyone else.” He pressed his lips against hers. “I just want you love and I want to love you. Teach me how to love you so that you’ll love me back.”
Y/n threw herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. “I love you, Kakashi. I love you and I am in love with you.” She lifts herself to look down at him with a bright smile. “I know you already love me, you show it to me in different ways but I know you love me and our babies.”
“Y/n,” he calls her name huskily.
“Hmm?”
“Please, kiss me…”
Y/n giggles and fulfills his request. Immediately everything around them began to escalate. Kakashi’s hands slipped beneath her shirt, rubbing her back. His fingers fumble with the back of her bra strap. “Kakashi…”
“Sorry, I just… I just miss touching you…”
“No – no please… please touch me. I need you.”
Kakashi groaned, “I need you badly too…”
“But before we have sex – can we share rooms? I… will it be too soon to move into one?” Y/n asked with a tint of pink on her cheeks.
Kakashi smiled, “you have no idea how long I have been dying to share a room with you. I missed you so much.”
“I just thought you didn’t want to sleep with me.”
He shook his head, “no – I wanted to after we got married but I didn’t exactly know how to approach you with that question. I didn’t know if… you wanted your own space still.”
Y/n pecked his lips, “move in, I want you to make love to me every night.”
“You might regret that…”
.
The bed softly creaked against the floor, thrashing against the wall with each slow thrust of Kakashi.
He rolled his hips, grunting each time his cock stroked entirely into her sweet pussy.
“I love you… I have loved you for so long…” His fingers tightened around hers as he pinned them above her head. “I don’t want to waste a second without you anymore…”
“Me too – me too Ka – ashi…” Y/n moaned and gasped, “I’m so close, please –“
Kakashi cut her words with a kiss, his tongue thrusting past her lips to dance with hers. He was close too, it had been too long and he wasn’t going to last much longer.
With deeper rolls of his hips, Kakshi groaned against her mouth as he cums into the condom. He continued to slowly thrust, feeling Y/n’s walls clench and tightly tremble around his cock.
As they came down from their high, Kakashi gazed lovingly down at her. “I might be late but… Happy New Year, I cannot wait to start this year with you and our babies.” Tenderly, he takes her hand, adorned with the wedding ring, and gently kisses it. “I love you, wifey.”
. . .
E/n: Kakashi is so #hearteyes
>>>@queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy
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elizabethwritesmen · 2 months
Text
The Devil Wears Lace
chapter 8: November 2, 2024
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pairing: simon “ghost” riley x reader
summary: you meet soap at the bar and finally see simon. turns out, he’s missed you just as much as you’ve missed him. he takes you home and you find out just how much.
warnings: smutty smutty smut!!! beware!! p in v, fingering, all the good things. degradation and praise, size kink if you squint, probably a few more things but that’s all i can think of! let me know if i missed any!
series masterlist
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November 2, 2024
It was cold outside, so I near sprinted from the cab to the bar, rushing in and hoping for some kind of warmth. I sighed in relief as the heat rushed around me, like a big hug.
I wasn’t accustomed to such cool temperatures, it never got super cold in my little beach town and if it did it was only in late January and lasted for about a day but London had been consistently chilly since I got there.
I looked around, noting that the place was a bit packed. I couldn’t see Soap or Simon or any of the guys anywhere, and I started to get discouraged, preparing to just leave with whatever pride I had left. Then I stopped myself. This was my only chance to see him. I wasn’t going to get another one, and if I blew it, who knew how if we’d ever cross paths again?
I steeled my resolve, making my way further into the pub and scooting past people as politely as I could. Finally, I saw him. They had a little booth in the corner, all of them with drinks in front of them.
I stood there for a second, nerves aflame and telling me to turn around for whatever it’s worth. I tried to push them away but the longer I stared at him the worse they got. Then, Gaz noticed me, his face lighting up as he nudged Simon on the arm and gestured in my direction.
Then, his eyes were on me. It was almost too much, the weight of them. The way they widened, he was clearly shocked. I took a deep breath in, telling myself to just walk over there but I couldn’t. My feet wouldn’t cooperate.
I must’ve stood there looking dumb for a whole minute before someone ran into me, knocking me right down onto the floor as they stepped past me, not even acknowledging what they’d done. Drunk off their ass, probably. I huffed, trying to pull myself up but someone else ran into me, knocking me down again.
“Here,” I looked up and it was him, offering me his hand. I took it carefully and he pulled me onto my feet, watching quietly as I brushed the dirt off my clothes.
“Thank you,” I offered shyly, unable to meet his eyes.
“You’re here,” he sounded like he didn’t even believe it, the words a whisper on his lips, a ghost of a thing that couldn’t possibly be true.
“I’m here,” I nodded, finally looking up with a smile and he visibly relaxed, pulling me into him and hugging me. I wound my arms around his neck, returning it tightly, relief flooding over me and healing all of the wounds that had formed since I last saw him.
“What’re you doing here?” he asked, pulling away. He looked tired. He probably felt tired. I couldn’t imagine what he’d gone through.
“I got accepted to the law school at Cambridge.” He thought over my words for a second, eyes widening when the meaning of them sunk in. “I live here now, Simon.”
“I was gonna come back for you,” he rushed out the words like an apology, “I promised and I intended to keep it. I just got back from deployment but I was gonna go the second I got clearance.”
“I know. I never doubted you for a second. I just…. I just thought something had happened to you and I worried a lot. I don’t know how to contact you, I don’t know what you look like. All I have is a first name that may not even be real.”
“I promise, it’s real,” he chuckled, “Come on, sit down. I’ll order you a drink.”
He ushered me into the booth and then went to the bar, leaving me alone with the guys who were all giving me knowing looks.
“You didn’t tell him I was coming?” I asked Soap.
“I thought it’d be better as a surprise.”
“He told us, though,” Price pointed out and I narrowed my eyes.
“So you told everybody but him? That’s so mean!”
“Not really,” Soap shrugged, “Bet not knowing he was gonna see you made it a whole lot more special.”
I rolled my eyes, sinking into the cushion of the seat, chatting with them about what had been going on with me. Finally, Simon returned and handed me a glass.
“What’s this?”
“It’s sweet, you’ll like it,” he said, slipping in beside me. I shrugged, taking a sip and grinning when I realized he was right.
“You know me better than I give you credit for,” I giggled, sipping again.
“That I do.”
We spent the next few hours catching up. He seemed like he really wanted to know what I’d been up to. It seemed like he thought he wasn’t ever gonna see me again, just like I’d thought about him, and it made the night feel more loaded than it was. I’d come to London for him, whether I admitted it or not, and I wanted to be with him. I had no delusions that he felt the same way, only the tiniest bit of hope that had dwindled in the year he’d been gone. It sparked back to life, though, every time his eyes landed on me or his hand gently brushed my hair away from my face.
“You wanna get out of here soon?” he leaned in and asked me, and I nodded.
And a few minutes later, he stood, holding his hand out for me to take, and lead me outside to his vehicle. He helped me into it then got into the driver’s side and took off out of the parking lot.
“So.. you’re based here? In London?”
“For now, yes. I still go everywhere, though. It’s just… of all the places I am, I’m here the most.”
“Oh.”
“Tell me what you’re thinkin’. You got that look.”
“What look?”
“You get lost in your head and your nose scrunches.”
“No it doesn’t,” I defended, and he laughed.
“I’ve spent a lot of time looking at your face, I think I know better than you.”
“Whatever.”
“You gonna tell me what’s going on in that pretty head o’ yours or what?” he asked again, and I bit my lip, suddenly nervous.
“You think I’ll see you more?��
“Well I suppose so, since we live in the same place now.”
“But you said you’re gone a lot.”
“Yeah. But I always find my way back home.”
I grinned slightly, “So no more waiting a few months to see you for a few hours?”
“No more.”
My grin turned into a full on smile, heart pumping a little faster as that spark of hope grew even more.
He pulled up to my house a few minutes later and walked me to my front door, waiting patiently as I unlocked it. He didn’t ask if he could come in and I didn’t stop him, we just made our way inside together like it was second nature.
“Make yourself at home,” I hummed as I pulled my shoes off and tossed them into the basket beside the door. “I’m gonna get comfy.”
I walked into my room and found a pair of sweatpants and a cropped tank top, changing out of my cute clothes and into the soft and cozy ones. When I walked back into the living room, he was sitting on the couch waiting for me. I somewhat awkwardly plopped down on the other side of the couch, feeling the butterflies twenty fold, making me almost nauseous.
He raised a brow at me, eyeing me suspiciously before turning back away. It seem almost like he was nervous too.
I cleared my throat and spoke, “I know you probably have other girls here that you like more than me. Or anywhere, really. Maybe one in every country, I’d believe it. But…”
“But?” he urged me on after I paused, and I sighed, preparing to further embarrass myself.
“I just.. I don’t know. I don’t know what I want to say. I guess I want to know… if I’m different than them? I don’t have any misconceptions about us, I promise I know where I stand and I know you don’t want anything real but do you at least… do you at least want me here?”
He stared at me for a moment, thinking about his answer, then gave it to me bluntly. “There are no other girls.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Not even one?”
“Not even one. There were none before you and there won’t be any after you.” I looked at him like I was stupid for a moment, in a bit of disbelief.
“But you’re Ghost. I - I see the way women look at you, and on top of that you’re this badass super soldier with the coolest mask ever. I’m just… I’m just me. How could there not be anyone else?”
“You’re just you, huh?” he snorted, and I furrowed my brows at him. “You’re just the girl who dances on bars and jumps in pools half naked to prove she isn’t scared? Just the girl who moved to the other side of the world to find me?”
“I didn’t come here to find you.”
He raised an eyebrow, and I faltered under it. We both knew that was a lie. “You’re the best girl I’ve met. I want you here.”
My eyes met his and I couldn’t fight off the smile. “Really?”
“Really.”
I let out the breath I’d been holding and relaxed a bit, turning to face him.
“So we have all the time in the world now,” I mused.
“We do.”
We locked eyes, and my breath caught in my throat as the reality settled in my bones. We really did have all the time in the world. He’d still be there tomorrow. No sad goodbyes.
“Come here,” it was an order, low and rough, and I jumped straight into action, scooting closer to him until I was right beside him. He grabbed my thigh, pulling it over his lap until I was straddling him and I about choked on my own spit. “Such a good girl for me.”
Fuck, I forgot how good he was at turning me into a puddle. I let out a whine and he laughed, grabbing my hips and pulling them forward to rest right on his, pulling a gasp from me.
“Been too long, huh?” I nodded, my hair falling all over the place from the force of it, “I know, baby. It was so mean of me to leave you for so long.”
“So mean,” I whined, unable to stop the way my hips moved back and forth against his, my eyes almost rolling into the back of my head because he was already hard and the angle was hitting my clit just right.
“Breathe, baby,” he reminded me and I nodded, making an effort to inhale and exhale as I kept going. “Look at you, my little slut, cock drunk already.” I nodded, groaning as he held my hips still, eyes opening and peering into his. “You been with anybody else since I last saw you?”
“No.”
“You were waiting for me?”
“Yes,” I nodded, trying to move again but he didn’t let me.
“You been making yourself cum?” I looked down at my lap, shaking my head slightly and he grabbed my chin and yanked it back up, forcing me to keep eye contact. “Why?”
“Nothing works anymore now that… now that we…” I didn’t know how to finish the sentence, but he understood.
“Now that I wrecked you?”
“Yeah,” I bit my lip, squirming against his rough hands. “Hated you for leaving me like that, don’t think anything else will ever do.”
“Aww,” his voice was patronizing but it sent heat straight to my center, “I’m sorry, baby. Let me make up for it.”
“Please,” I asked, my voice a broken moan, barely audible.
His hands stayed tight on my hips but started rocking me slowly, an agonizing pace, and the noises I was making were obscene.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he was in awe staring down at the spot on my sweatpants, “Need it bad, huh?”
“Nnhgh, uh huh,” I was close to collapsing on him, a mess of nerves that felt like they were going to snap. I needed him and I needed him right that second.
“Take your pants off for me,” he pushed me gently off his lap and I did as asked, slipping them off and kicking them away. “Shirt, too.” So I pulled it over my head and it joined my pants. He leaned forward in his seat, his hands closing around the band of my underwear and ripping. I gasped as he threw them in the pile.
“Those were expensive!”
“I’ll buy you ten new pairs,” he shrugged, kissing my tummy and then pulling me back onto his lap.
He made a show of pulling off his belt and undoing his pants, pulling himself out of his boxers and he was just as huge as I remembered. I gawked for a moment and he laughed, pulling me closer.
I was all too eager to get to it, setting myself up but he stopped me.
“Gotta stretch you out some, baby, don’t wanna hurt you.” Before I could complain, his fingers found my entrance and began stroking back and forth before pushing in, fucking into my already very wet hole and making me come undone in seconds. I felt like I was on fire as I gripped his shoulders, barely able to keep myself up. He kept that pace going, bringing his thumb to my clit, and I about jumped out of my skin, grinding down on his hand pathetically. “Just like that, baby, such a filthy little slut for me,” he coaxed my orgasm out of me with his words and I leaned down to kiss him, lips rough on his as my hips spasmed and I finished on his fingers. He brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean and I gasped, his eyes locked on mine the entire time.
“Please fuck me, gonna die if you don’t fuck me Simon,” I begged and he nodded.
“Let’s go to bed.”
I grinned and stood up, eagerly sprinting to my room and he laughed, following me. He looked so good in the doorway, large and taking up what seemed like all the space in the room just by being there. I scooted back against my pillows, waiting patiently for him in the dark room only barely lit by light outside of the window.
He walked in slowly, climbing up my bed until he was propped up on his arms on top of me, leaning down to capture my lips in his own and it felt sweeter than the rest. Our tongues slid together in harmony as his hands wandered, touching everything they could reach and it was a lot.
Though it embarrassed me, I was past the point of caring as I started begging, my cries muffled by his mouth as he grabbed my thigh and pulled it around his waist. He lined himself up and I cursed the clothes he was wearing, wanting to feel more of him.
He slowly pressed himself in, but I was gone from the tip alone. I squeaked as he made it farther and farther, letting out a whimper of pain once it got too much. I hadn’t done anything like that in a while, so I was still a little tight even with him opening me up first, and he halted.
“Tell me when,” his words were simple but they were loaded and I nodded.
“Just give me a second, please,” I whispered into the dark, how sweet it was that he was waiting for me to tell him I was okay. “Okay,” I nodded a moment later, “Fuck me.”
He growled, pushing in the rest of the way until I could feel his pelvis pressing against me, brushing my clit tantalizingly. He pulled out after giving me time to adjust and pressed in again a little faster, until he was slamming inside of me and I was a moaning, whimpering mess under him. He seemed to like me that way, holding my face tight in his hands so I couldn’t look away from him, swallowing my sounds with his kisses as he went harder.
I was close, so close I was clenching around him, and he grabbed me under my waist and tipped us over so he was sitting against the headboard and I was on top. I let out a shaky breath as the new angle sent him even deeper inside of me and started greedily grinding on him.
“That’s it, take what you need baby, make yourself cum on my cock,” his words sent ripples of pleasure through me and I could feel that peak inside, ready to tip over it. “Gonna cum with you, you want that? Want it inside of you?” I nodded desperately at his words, clawing into the fabric of his shirt as I started bouncing, needing to go over the edge more than I’d needed anything else, ever. I needed everything about him more than I was accustomed to, and I already knew that I’d never be able to do what we were doing with anyone else. Nothing else would ever do.
“Fuck, come on baby, cum for me,” his hand wrapped around my throat and my vision went white, eyes rolling back as my hips stuttered and thrashed, my orgasm bubbling up and I could feel his close behind. I rode out the high, not giving him a second’s break from my screams as his hips jutted inside of me, filling me up with his own cum, fucking me full.
We took a second to breathe when it was over, just gazing at each other. He brushed my hair out of my face, wiping under my eyes.
“Let’s go get you cleaned up,” he smiled, and I nodded, climbing off of him and making my way to the bathroom with him close behind. “You wanna take a shower?” he asked me once we were inside and I nodded slowly, exhaustion settling in. “Okay baby, let me get it ready for you.” He turned on the spray, hand under it waiting for it to get hot before turning to me. “Wanna wash your hair?” I shook my head, and he nodded, grabbing a hair tie from the counter behind me and turning me around to face the mirror as he got to work, pulling all my locks into a messy bun on the top of my head. I giggled, it looked a little silly but it was nice to see he didn’t have much experience with women’s hair.
He still hadn’t pushed his mask down, so I turned around and kissed him once, doing it for him and smiling at him once it was back in place. Then, I stepped into the shower and washed all the grime of the day off, along with all the evidence of the things he’d just done to me, shivering when I thought about it too much, missing his warmth already.
I half expected him to be gone when I got out and the thought scared me, but there he was, laying down waiting for me. I grinned, relief settling in as I pulled on a T shirt and panties, slipping in beside him and letting me snuggle me close.
“You must be uncomfy,” I furrowed my brows, gesturing to his jeans and long sleeve shirt, and he shrugged.
“‘m fine.”
“Are you sure? I can-“
“‘m sure. Go to sleep.”
I nodded slowly, smiling as he pulled me in closer, feeling like I was where I was supposed to be. This felt so different from the time he brought me home drunk, that felt like longing and this felt like forever. I tried to push the stupid thoughts away, knowing he probably didn’t want that but at the same time he was there, and he wasn’t leaving, because he didn’t want to. That thought alone was enough to send me into a peaceful sleep.
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jeongharine · 2 months
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a fruit made for two
⚝ jeonghan x reader
⚝ comfort, romance, established couple
⚝ notes: you might think "how lame" when you will be done with it, or "can she write about anything else other than tangerines" and yes, while i acknowledge my problem with tangerines, i can tell you that i'm done writing about them. but enough of my rambles, just wanted to post this little (maybe a bit sad) scenario that i have come up with during these days.
wishing you a good start of the year and a not so rough january (i personally dread this month) :)
enjoy and thank you for taking time to read this short fic x
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you have always liked to peel tangerines neatly. jeonghan was focusing his attention on your fingers work. the sections coming apart cleanly in your hands.
he’s trying to cut out the noise, the laughters of the other guests at the table, the cracking open of the nuts, the clinking of the glasses and the cutlery, your aunt bragging about your cousins to your mom and your nan nearly tripping into the dog.
“that’s the limit, from then on her eyesight will worsen to blindness and there’s nothing they can do,” that’s what your father had told jeonghan before christmas lunch.
he reasoned you didn’t have the courage to confront jeonghan with the matter. so, he took it in his hands.
your thick eye-glasses nearly falling off your nose while you’re peeling away neatly the white parts.
“hannie,” you said, “i don’t know how you do it. always tearing holes when you peel tangerines and oranges, juice going in every direction,”
you’re jeonghan’s love of his life.
“i hope you never learn how to peel them, hannie. i want to do it for you for a lifetime.”
x
“where’d you get these?” you nearly shouted in the college backyard, while jeonghan handed you an orange.
“just took them out of a plastic bag someone left behind in class,” he said.
you laughed. you started to peel the orange, separating it in two perfect halves to give one of them to him. “you know, when i won’t be able to see no more i will miss terribly peeling citrus..”
if he could have wore his half like a friendship bracelet, he would have. “i mean, i still will be able to do it but man how it satisfies me to see the colour of the fruit changing: different shades of orange, white and then orange again,”
instead, jeonghan just swallowed each segment one by one and told himself that this, this exact moment, would have always meant so much more.
“... and your face, to see your face so focused on how i peel citrus fruits! i have to start giving you lesson,”
to share it with you. to chew and to swallow with you the sections that you so dutifully and accurately peeled, listening to all the possible rambles you might have had to tell him. to just taste the same thing in the same moment.
“here you go hannie,” you handed to jeonghan his perfectly peeled half.
the air around you filled up with the smell of peeled orange.
x
it was christmas’ eve. no festivities at home this year. closing the front door, jeonghan longed to hear your hasty steps down the corridor.
longing to slip an orange or a tangerine into the pocket of your wool coat before heading to town.
instead, he ignited the engine of his car and drove to the hospital where you had been staying. your eyesight barely spots of colour and light by now.
you were looking out the window into the wintery morning haze with a smile on your lips, when jeonghan entered the room. “hannie you’re here,” you recognized his footsteps and his scent. the sweetest kind.
he brought tangerines with him, peeled three of them in his car. he peeled them perfectly, peeled away every little part of the white stuff until they were all orange like you did. so you wouldn’t have to worry about not enjoy one of his favourite things.
it took him some time, but love always does.
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livvyliveslife · 3 months
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2024 Prep + Plan ✨
when going into the new year, there are so many different feelings about this time. Whether you've had one of the best years of your life, or whether you're still in your cocoon phase of becoming a butterfly. This reset routine will set you up for the year you deserve, you're allowed to feel however you need to feel about the upcoming new year but for me, this year screams hope, creativity and becoming the best possible version of me.
Deep clean your space both physical + mental - Change + create a rotation for bedsheets + towels. - Clean floor + surfaces in your room / apartment. - Journal: Reflect on what went well and what you accomplished, things to do, events, goals, ideas. - Spend the weekend before Monday 1st to get the last of the errands done for the year. - Clean out your closet Hygiene reset - Create the simplest skincare that works for you - for me all my skin really needs is a good cleanser and an even better moisturiser - Eyebrows - either get them done or do them yourself - Nails - either get them done or do them yourself - i have some perfect clean girl nail aesthetics - Hair - I love oiling + putting a hair mask every sunday that i can - Wash makeup brushes - i am a victim of procrastination + i cannot remember the last time i washed my brushes - HAVE AN EVERYTHING SHOWER - they're healing. Relax + Renew - Spend the 1st of Jan without your phone as much as possible - be reasonable x - go out n spend a significant time outside. - Digital Detox - reorganise phone, apps, camera roll, set screen limits + alarms to keep you on track. - Spend time outside journalling / reading - Do whatever makes you relaxed + happy x Set intentions for the new month - Pick 3-5 small goals for the month of January - Decide on the habits required to achieve a solid schedule in the daily habits, either into your morning or night routine - Anticipate anything that might make the habit difficult to achieve and come up with a plan to combat that - e.g. if your goal is to drink more water, then anticipate that you will need to bring your bottle everywhere. - Download / Make a habit tracker to track progress on new habits throughout the month. - Set a reward for yourself after the month - you deserve it - Schedule some events to look forward to
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deanwritings · 7 months
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The Guest House - Prologue
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Pairing: Dean x Reader
Series Summary: Dean Winchester is going through a nasty divorce. He doesn't have much left to his name, but what he does have is his house. Leave it to his soon-to-be ex wife to find a way to even ruin that for him. Enter Y/N, who is looking to get away from life for a bit, and stumbles right into the middle of it all.
The Guest House Master List
Word Count: 2,225
A/N: Welcome to the start of The Guest House! This little bitty came to me while I was staying at a lake house and relaxing, so really excited to dive in.
Chapters will be posted weekly on Wednesdays.
If you would like to be tagged in the series, just leave a comment or shoot me a message and I'll get you added.
Enjoy!
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You dig your nails into your fingertips as they sit in your lap underneath the table. Your heart was finally leveling off as your review was coming to an end. So far your marks had been glowing; your metrics were up, your peer reviews were stellar, all that was left was to hear if they would be promoting you.
You’ve been working for that next step for a year and a half now. After most of your team quit, you took the opportunity to show your bosses that you could run the department with a can-do attitude and hard work. You’ve brought up a promotion a few times at your check-ins with your boss, and she assured you it would be a topic of conversation at your next review, which would be ending in the next few minutes. 
With a polite smile, you look across the table at your direct manager and her boss.
“Any questions?” Your boss asks plainly, and your brow furrows as you look between them. If you didn’t know any better, it sounded like they were wrapping up the meeting.
Your lips fall apart and your heart jumps into your throat as you realize what’s about to happen.
“Uh,” you start as you squeeze your fists together. “I was hoping to discuss my possible promotion.” You loosen your smile as you try to keep your eye contact divided between both of them.  
The two share a small look. 
You’re not getting promoted. Is what that looks says. 
Your boss’ boss clears his throat as he readjusts in his seat. 
“After reviewing your performance, we do not feel a promotion is appropriate at this time.” He says with a tinge of forced sorrow. 
Your stomach plummets as your jaw clenches. 
How could they not be promoting you? You’ve been working the job of at least three people for over a year now without complaint. You’ve spent countless days staying late and making sure projects didn’t fall wayside while the company took their sweet ass time looking for replacements for your team.To their own admission, your metrics were good, so why the hell wasn’t your hard work being recognized?
“I don’t understand.” You swallow to keep your voice from shaking. You never pushed back on your bosses. Ever. But you thought today was the day you were finally going to be rewarded for everything you’ve done for them. 
“You just said that my metrics were up and I was performing above expectations. What is hindering him from getting a promotion then?” 
The two look at each other again and you can feel yourself beginning to shake as they bide their time for an excuse. 
“Y/N, you have performed well this past year for the most part, but there were concerns with your performance in January.” Your boss folds her tanned hands on the faux wood tabletop as she speaks up. “You let things fall through the cracks and were distant from your work. We feel that is not reflective of someone who should hold a Senior Management position.” She offers a soft smile and a shitty excuse. 
It takes your brain a moment to catch up with what they were talking about; January. Two months ago. Your aunt passed away suddenly from a heart attack as she was making dinner. You can still hear your mother’s cries over the phone as she called to tell you the news that her sister was dead. And at only 52. 
You were only able to take one day off from work for her funeral, as you were in the middle of a project launch and it was all hands on deck. When you returned, yeah, you were “distant.” You were mourning the loss of a woman you loved dearly while trying to help your mother and cousins navigate their grief as well. Your aunt’s passing also made you scared for your own mother, who is a few years older, and some night’s you couldn’t sleep as you thought about life without your best friend. It took you weeks to shake free from the heartbreak and anxiety that had engulfed you, but you came back strong and started excelling once more. 
And there your bosses sat, in the all-glass meeting room of the shared workspace your company rented out because they were too cheap to get a full-blown office, throwing your aunt’s death in your face and using it as the excuse as to why they would not be promoting you after more than eighteen months of slaving away for them with barely a thank you. 
You laugh through your nose and shake your head as you swallow hard.
“We’re happy to talk more about this in a few months at your next check-in.” Your boss jumps in, and you bite down on your lip. “We know you’re committed to this company and role, and we want to make sure we help you get to the next level.” She smiles at you like she actually believes the bullshit she’s spouting. 
You take a deep breath and genuinely smile back. You always prided yourself on keeping a cool head, especially at work. But a line had crossed, and even for you, enough was now enough. 
“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Your boss ticks her head at your words. “Because I quit.” You stand up and smile down at the two asshats you gave everything for, and now realize, you would never get anything in return from them. 
Both of their mouths fall open as they share a shocked look between them.
“Y/N, let’s not do anything rash.” Your boss’ boss stands as well, holding his hands up. “There’s no need to jump to something like this. I’m sure there’s something we can work out” 
You push your chair in, your smile not wavering.
“I feel that this review is not reflective of a company I want to work for anymore.” You throw their words back to them. “I’ll have no issue finding a new role that values my hard work and dedication, and won’t use a family member’s death as a reason to squirrel out of a rightful promotion.”
“Best of luck filling my role.” You turn on your heel and hurry down the hallway to your shared office. A few coworkers glance up at your haste entrance, but you ignore them as you grab your purse and start grabbing the few personal effects that would fit on your tiny, shared desktop; just a single, unframed picture of you, your parents, and your brother, a few fidget toys, and your favorite pens. The rest belonged to the company, just like you had. 
Without a word, you fling your purse onto your shoulder and with your head held high, carry yourself out of the office without a single glance back. As you step onto the elevator, you smirk as you watch through the all-glass walls as your bosses shout at one another before the doors close.
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“You what?” Your mother gasps through the phone at your news. You knew your parents weren’t going to take this well, and you were prepared for it.
“I quit.” You repeat, even though you know she heard you the first time.
“Y/N, what on God’s green earth would make you quit without another job lined up?” She huffs. 
You think about your Aunt Rose, how your bosses used your grief as an excuse not to give you a well-earned promotion. She was always free spirited, having career-jumped her whole life. She started as a bartender, then worked as a sous chef for a catering company before she decided she wanted to be a radio DJ. Years before she died, she had gotten her real estate license and was working as an agent right up until she passed. You had always been the opposite, very much a mirror of your mother. You went to a good college and got a business degree. You had worked for a few companies over the years, but you always stayed in the same field, working your way up the ladder. You never wanted to take a risk with your career, you had worked too hard. But working hard got you nothing but late nights and a bullshit yearly review. 
To say you were exhausted was an understatement. And you can barely recall the last time you got together with your friends, let alone a date. You had married your job and it had been a toxic and loveless relationship. 
It was time to start fresh and take some time for yourself. Which is exactly why you had seventeen tabs of house rentals open on your laptop screen as you half-listen to your mother as she continues to admonish your rash decision. 
“It’s going to be good for me, mom.” You cut her off once you’ve finally had enough of her harping. You loved the woman to death, but my god once you wind her up, she doesn’t stop. 
“I have enough savings to comfortably get me through six months without a job. I’m going to take a few weeks off to reset, then I’ll hit the ground running with the job search.” You cross your legs as you languidly swipe through rental photos. 
After a few more minutes, you finally hang up the phone and start seriously considering your options. 
You wanted to get away upstate, not so far away that you couldn’t get back for anything important, but far enough to feel like the city wasn’t in your rearview mirror. You figured a month would be the perfect time. Four weeks of a quiet town to relax and rediscover your love of reading and writing. It’s been ages since you actually sat down and read a good book. You were never good at art, but maybe you’d even find a studio to do some painting or finally give pottery a try. For the first time in your life, your time would be your own to sleep in and do whatever you wanted with your days. 
As you click through listings, you notice one that is significantly cheaper than the rest. Curiously, you click the link and a gray-sided cabin with a red tin-looking roof brightens up in front of you.
NEW LISTING! Private Guest House, Hot tub included.
One bedroom guest house available for rent. Relax in the peacefulness of upstate while being a short driving distance to town. The guest house has a full bathroom, complete with tub. There is also a hot tub on the patio that is for guest enjoyment. 10 minutes from downtown with plenty of bars and shops to keep you busy. The owner lives on the main property, but will keep to themself unless you need anything. Perfect for anyone looking to getaway! 
As you click through the photos, you’re greeted with a warm, wooden interior, a wood burning stove, a fairly updated kitchen, and a queen bed with an adjacent master bath. 
The cabin feels a little too good to be true for the price, and you click “Contact Owner” at the bottom of the page.
“Hello,” You start your chat. “I’m interested in potentially renting your guest cabin for four weeks. The place looks lovely but I wanted to ask if there are any issues I should be aware of since the price is so much more reasonable than other listings on this site.” 
You were hoping there were no gimmicks, you’ve heard horror stories before, and with no reviews, you wanted to do your due diligence. 
After you send the chat, you step away to make a quick dinner, chicken and ramen, comfy and warm, before you settle back onto the couch to watch your favorite reality show. You’re about to press play when you notice a response in your inbox. 
“Hi there. Totally understand your concern. I just put the listing up today and am offering a discounted rate for the first few renters to help get traffic to our rental and start getting reviews. Let me know if you have any questions.” You shrug at the perfectly reasonable response and you click on the circular picture of the brunette next to the message, opening the owner’s profile.
LISA BRAEDEN (Host)
0 Reviews | 1 Month Renting
Lisa’s confirmed information
Identity ✓
Email address ✓
Phone number✓
Proud wife and owner of a unique property. I am a certified yoga instructor and have been teaching and practicing for over 15 years. I love a good glass of wine, a well-cooked meal, and traveling to new places. 
You stare at the picture of the smiling, long-haired, tanned brunette. She’s absolutely beautiful. Probably a few years older than you and seems down to earth in a regular tshirt. 
Honestly, considering you were out of a job, the discounted price would really come in handy. Then you wouldn’t feel so guilty taking a full month off before you started your job hunt. 
You click back to the rental’s profile and put in your dates. You take a deep breath before clicking RESERVE and putting in your payment details.  Your rental has been confirmed. The message pops up. With a thousand-watt smile, you shut your laptop and settle into your couch. In just a few days, you would be on your way to a new beginning.  
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Keep Reading
A/N: Fun fact, the first half of this was inspired by true events. Sadly, I didn't quit on the spot, but I did shortly after with a 10x better job.
And know we didn't get to see Dean yet, but I promise he will be in the next chapter!
Anywho, stealing this from the lovely @zepskies
NEXT TIME:
“I’m calling the cops!” She shouts, her phone in hand, music blaring from the speaker as her fingers are ready to press the three numbers as she stares at him with fear in her Y/C/E eyes.
“Take it easy,” Dean holds his hands up, and the woman looks like she’s going to have a heart attack as she notices the gun in his right hand. Realizing his mistake, he quickly tucks it away into his waistband and holds his empty hands out to her, wanting her to know he’s not a threat.
“First off,” Dean holds up a finger at her. “If anyone should be calling the cops, it’s me.” He points back to himself. “Secondly, what are you doing in my house?” 
“Your house?” Her voice drips with confusion as her brow furrows.
“Yes my house.” He echoes, emphasizing his ownership. She continues to frown.  
“Well if it’s your house, you would know I’m renting your guest house for the next four weeks.” She crosses her arms defiantly, confusion and fear gone as she challenges him. 
“What are you talking about?” Now it’s Dean’s turn to be confused. He’s never rented the guest house out, nor would he ever. 
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Tag List
Forever 
@iprobablyshipit91  @likesiriusly @kittyque @findingfitnessforme @wonderange @captainemwinchester @xtina2191 @smoothdogsgirl @mogaruke @chin-up-love @tsunadesenjuuchiha @lyarr24 @globetrotter28 @krazykelly @roseblue373 @k-slla @stephv213
TGH
@suckitands33 @deans-baby-momma @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @spnbaby-67 @jackles010378 @itsdesiree86 @becca-rebel38
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blessedwithabadomen · 2 months
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in love with the mess - day zero
summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?
content : fluff
length : 3.2k
tags : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81
a/n : hi everyone!! I hope you'll enjoy this, comments and reblogs and asks are always more than appreciated!!
•••
day zero
Time moved differently on tour. It always had, as long as I’d worked on them. Go away for a week and it’ll simultaneously feel like you only left home yesterday and as if you’ve been on the road for a month straight. 15 days didn’t seem too bad this time around. I’d done double that, triple that, easily. I basked in the feeling of how it fucked with time perception. Days flying by so fast I couldn’t quite grasp it, memories so fleeting and yet so fully anchored to my being. At the same time, in between, I already knew that I’d have days where this tour felt like a lifetime. Too many places in too little time, so many faces, different venues, different people, fans, the same setlists every night. And afterward, life wouldn’t be quite the same. Not this time around.
•••
“There she is!”
Oli’s voice was much too loud in the hotel lobby. Several people turned around, even if I wasn’t sure if it was because they recognised him or simply because they were questioning who was being so damn loud in this rather nice place. He crossed the room in long strides as I quickly gave the receptionist a nod while she handed over my room key.
He looked different than the last time I’d seen him in person, which, admittedly, had been… a while. There had been constant texting, a familiar voice in my ear whenever I needed it, video calls at any opportunity, all based on a friendship we’d both worked hard to grow over the last decade or so, but lately both of us had been busy on such opposing schedules that any in-person meetings got delayed and delayed again.
Whenever he was on the road, I was stuck at a job far away and when I was working on a different local tour, he was busy recording in a different country. It was why he made sure that now, when he was embarking on a massive arena tour with his band and I was miraculously free for all of January, he got me a job allowing me to tag along. It was so much more than I could ask for.
Still. It had been longer than I’d like to admit since the two of us had met in person and none of the pictures I’d been looking at or the video calls we’d been chatting through had done Oli Sykes any justice. He’d been hitting the gym, I knew that much, but the way he now filled out his frame had me giving him a once over as he approached. His hair was longer now, too. He looked healthier, I thought. Healthier and happier.
At least I wasn’t crushing on him anymore. I had spent a good few years with a special place in your heart reserved just for him, well aware that it had never been reciprocated. Nothing had ever happened, save a few harmless flirtations here and there. One of us had always been in a relationship, had someone else on their mind or simply enjoying their single life. It wasn’t like he’d be interested in me either way, I told yourself. And I was over all of that, even if both of us actually were available at the same time for once. It didn’t matter.
I greeted Oli with a smile as both of us immediately went for a hug. He’d always been a very touchy person, something that had been feeding my crush in the most unhealthy ways, but as someone who was also constantly in a state of touch starvation, I appreciated it either way. His arms held me tightly. I was convinced I could feel every individual muscle under my fingers as they traced his back and I just knew he was smiling into my hair as he rested his head on mine, his perfume engulfing me, and-
Yeah, fuck. I wasn’t over him. Like, at all.
I let go of him a little too abruptly, terrified he could feel the way my heart rate was speeding up, but he didn’t mention it. The weight of my realisation was hitting me hard.
I was going to have to spend the next two and a half weeks with him, as close as ever. And I was going to be crushing on him as much as ever. Great.
“Thank you for getting me on this tour,” I said anyway because truly, having someone basically fight to create a job for me just to make sure I could tag along and get paid for it out of pure friendship wasn’t something I was taking for granted. It wasn’t Oli’s fault my feelings weren’t under control.
“I’ll have you know that I missed three meetings to convince them that I needed a personal assistant to keep me on track.”
“Damn, so I’ll actually have to interact with you and make sure you are where you need to be at all times?” I joked.
“You also get to go on burger runs after the show. You’re basically my slave now.”
I decided to ignore the way his statement makes a shiver run down my spine. He didn’t need to know how far my services would extend, if he ever asked for it.
“Everyone in the tour group chat is making fun of me by the way. They’ve all very lovingly changed my contact name to ‘Oli’s slut’, so you’re not that far off.”
“Wait, there’s a groupchat I’m not part of?” Oli was halfway to pulling out his phone, apparently shocked at the idea that other people working this tour would connect without him being the centre of attention or even included at all, but he was interrupted.
The interruption came in the form of Noah Sebastian, tall, all smiles, and, somehow, even more beautiful in person than I’d gathered he would be from pictures and videos. One of his hands came to rest on Oli’s shoulder, making him look up with a bright smile, as the other reached out to me.
“Noah Sebastian,” he introduced himself, as if there was any chance I could possibly not be aware. “I sing in Bad Omens.”
“Hi! I’m Oli’s slut.” A brief pause. Panic as I gripped his hand tighter upon realising just which words had left my mouth. “No! Wait! Personal assistant! Oh my god. Aubrey. That’s my name.”
I couldn’t tell whose laughter was louder out of the two of them, but I was mortified. This was possibly the worst first impression I had ever made. And I’d made a lot of them.
“Where did you find her?” Noah laughed. “I like her already.”
Oli slung his arm around me, pressing my blushing face to his chest. I both wanted to burrow myself into the fabric of his hoodie and withdraw immediately before the heat in my cheeks got any worse.
“Oh, years ago, mate. She’s a keeper. A little socially inept though, obviously.”
“I fucking hate you,” I mumbled as I untangled myself from Oli. “I’m gonna go to my room and hide away until I’ve learned how to behave in public again.”
Grabbing my bag from off the floor and double checking that the key card I’d been handed hadn’t, somehow, vanished into the abyss, I turned to take the handle of my suitcase only to find it was already in Noah’s hand.
“I’m going to join you,” he said. I didn’t miss the way Oli raised his eyebrows. “In going upstairs, I mean, not going to your room. I’m… very jetlagged.”
“You two are a right pair,” Oli commented with a chuckle and a shake of his head. “This is going to be a great fucking tour.”
•••
“Is this the first tour you’re working on?”
I stopped at the door leading to my hotel room, Noah coming to a halt next to me and pushing my suitcase in my general direction. I was unreasonably nervous. Somehow, even though we were in a pretty public hallway in a pretty public hotel, no one else was around. I hadn’t counted on being alone with him so quickly, even if it was possibly the least conspicuous situation imaginable. Leaning back against the door, I fumbled with the keycard to keep my hands preoccupied.
“Oh no, I’ve done my fair share, actually. It’s how I met Oli, years ago, on one of the first jobs I ever had. I’ve mainly been doing merch or helping out as someone’s assistant, usually a tour manager’s. When he found out I was going to be free for this tour, he really wanted to get me on it, but they’d filled all positions already, so he convinced management that he needed a personal assistant. And here I am!”
“What’s that entail then? Your job? I might be in the business of hiring a personal assistant for myself, some time in the future.”
The way he was towering over me as he leaned against the wall, a smirk on his lips, eyes travelling over my face… was he flirting with me? I’d always been terrible at telling. Especially when it came to attractive people. There was a constant fear my interpretations could just be down to wishful thinking.
“Knowing Oli, it’s probably going to be a lot of running around to fetch him food and the most random assortments of items that he suddenly needs for no reason whatsoever. Other than that, I’m responsible for kicking his ass and keeping him on time for everything. I’m allowed to use physical force if necessary, he gave me that in writing. I’m definitely going to enjoy that part.”
“Sounds like Oli’s your slut, to be honest.”
If there had been any liquid anywhere near my mouth, I would have done a spit take. The implications of it, as well as the tone of his low voice muttering the word slut was enough to do me in. There wasn’t, though, so I simply gaped at Noah for a moment before erupting into laughter.
“You know, it really does. I’m going to remember that. Don’t tell him though. He likes to think he’s the dominant one in this situation.”
Noah pushed himself away from the wall, giving me another smile that sent shivers down my spine, before turning to walk away. “I can’t wait to see you put him in his place. I’m going to be watching.”
•••
The room was nicer than any I had ever been put in while working on a tour and, even more importantly, I wasn’t sharing it with anyone. I didn’t know what kind of strings Oli had pulled to make this happen, but I would thank him thoroughly for it. In any way he deemed acceptable.
I shook the thought from my head.
It didn’t work.
So, I did the only thing that made sense. I called my best friend.
“Lia, I’m in fucking trouble,” was the first thing I said to her. We’d never been too fond of greetings.
“Did you get arrested before tour even started again?” Her voice came through the phone, somewhere between accusatory and amused.
“That never happened! It was a case of mistaken identity and they let me go immediately. Anyway. No. My problem is that I want to fuck my boss.”
“And that’s news to you how?” she scoffed.
“Lia!”
“What! How is it any secret, or ever has been, that you want to bone Oli Sykes?”
I fell down onto my bed in defeat. It was extremely comfortable, which did ease my pain momentarily. I would get an amazing night’s sleep here.
“I thought I was over it,” I whined. “I thought I was going to be fine but he’s fit as fuck and I’m gonna have to spend every fucking day with him. Never mind Noah.”
“Noah? Okay, now you have my attention.”
“I didn’t have it before? Rude.”
“Less complaining, more talking about Noah please.”
“He’s fucking dreamy, I’ll tell you that. And a flirt. I think? I’ve yet to determine it for sure. And I’ve only seen him and Oli interact once but Oli looks at him like the sun shines from his arse so he’ll probably be around all the time, too.”
Lia didn’t say anything for a long, long moment. Long enough that I pulled the phone from my ear briefly just to check that the connection hadn’t dropped. When she finally spoke again, she sounded much more serious than I’d heard her in a while.
“Aubrey. I know I make fun of you a lot.” True. “And I know that I don’t always give the best advice.” Also true, sometimes painfully so. “But I love you and you need to listen to me for once, yeah? Have some fucking fun.”
I had to admit, that wasn’t the advice I thought I was going to hear.
“You have this weird thing about not allowing yourself to let loose and enjoy yourself but I’m giving you explicit permission. Do whatever feels right. Flirt with anyone who’s attractive to you and wants to flirt back. Make a move on Oli. Make a move on Noah. I don’t fucking care. But stop depriving yourself of happiness because you, for some unexplainable reason, think you don’t deserve it. Please, Aubrey. Have some fun on this tour. Okay?”
I was dumbstruck. For a while, I didn’t know what to say, but Lia stayed silent, waiting it out. Waiting until her words seeped into my brain. Started to make sense. And I knew. I knew she was right. I’d been focused on chasing after job opportunities, constantly trying to prove myself, travelling from one place to another, and never had I stopped and taken a moment to allow myself to really be happy. I hadn’t had a relationship since… I didn’t want to think about it. Hell, I hadn’t even touched anyone in forever. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gotten drunk, stayed out until sunlight, sang my heart out, let go.
And this tour… Oli had given me the job because he wanted to hang out with me. I didn’t have anything to prove. So I took a breath. And I told Lia a single word.
“Okay.”
•••
I was almost asleep, clad in a pair of shorts and an old shirt and covered under the blanket, when my phone chimed with the tell-tale jingle I’d assigned to Oli. He was my boss, after all. I felt like I should at least make an effort to make sure I’d notice his attempts to contact me, even if it only came in the form of a personalised ringtone.
Oli u up? Aubrey Is this a booty call Oli come over
I knew I didn't have a good enough reason to refuse. Double checking that I had noted down his room number, I grabbed my key card and phone and quickly padded down the hallway, thanking the lords that no one bumped into me. Oli opened the door the second I put my knuckles against it to knock. He didn't waste any time pulling me into the room and onto his bed by my hand.
“Wow, forward much? Normally I at least get dinner before jumping into bed with someone,” I joked.
“Love, I’ve taken you out for food so many times, you should get on your knees without me having to ask.”
I landed a good slap to the back of his head for his comment. It seemed better than to acknowledge the fact that I would, definitely, without question, get on my knees for him, and now my head was once again flooded with inappropriate images. Settling on the mattress next to him, I tried not to get too close to Oli, which shouldn’t have been a difficult feat on a double bed, but as soon as he had grabbed his laptop again, he shuffled so close that his thigh was touching mine.
“Can I show you some stuff?” he asked, blissfully unaware of the turmoil in my heart, as he was rapidly opening and closing tabs on his laptop. I simply nodded, waiting for him to continue. “I know you’re going to see most of it tomorrow, I made sure the sound tech people are cool with you staying at the sound desk if you want so you can get a good look at the whole show, but look, we did a whole video montage that’s going to play before the encore, and…”
Oli talked and talked and talked, about the show, about the planning of it all, about their rehearsals, showing me pictures and videos and blueprints and all I could do was sit and listen and fall in love with the sound of his voice a little bit more. He was catching me up on everything I could have possibly missed, letting me listen to everything he was expecting to happen in the next two weeks, and how he couldn’t believe I was actually there and part of it all.
“Having you and Noah here is the fucking best,” he grinned, somehow snuggling even closer into me. I let him, against my better judgement, as always.
“Someone’s a bit in love with him,” I teased.
“Everyone is a bit in love with him. You’ve met him. Prettiest dude on tour.”
“Apart from you.” It slipped out before I realised the thought was even in my brain, but Oli seemed delighted.
“You think I’m pretty?” He fluttered his eyelashes in a way that would have been purely obnoxious, usually, but all I could focus on was how fucking pretty he did indeed look. “You think I’m cute? You wanna kiss me? You wanna hold my hand?”
“Oh my god, I take it back,” I groaned, pushing him away and attempting to crawl out of his bed, but his arms grabbed onto my middle and pulled me back before I got anywhere at all. He seemed to anticipate me trying to fight his grip, because as soon as I made any further move, his fingers found the skin under my shirt and began tickling my stomach in relentless cruelty. Within seconds, I was reduced to a shouting, giggling mess, tears threatening to spill from my eyes as I wriggled underneath him, to no avail.
“Please, please, Oli!” I gasped, breathlessly. “You’re- fuck, you’re the prettiest!”
His torment stopped immediately, but our position didn’t change. I was still trapped under his broad frame, his hands still on me, his hair almost tickling my face, he was that close. My breathing was going fast, trying to calm down after his attack, but his proximity didn’t help at all. For a moment, a long moment, we simply stared at each other, all fight leaving our bodies. Then, just as I wondered if anything was actually going to happen, he sat back up, busying himself with his laptop and fixing the blanket.
I almost missed it when he muttered, “For the record, I think you’re the prettiest, too.”
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