#pls give me more ideas about these three! any little things you think of for this dynamic id love to talk more abt em! <3
Note
Can you do Steve x Eddie x Robin x reader relationship hc, please 🙏🏽
I love your writing also, you’re very talented💕
Tysm! And yes I love these three together!!!
Those three are best friends, and platonic soulmates, and when they meet you, boy does everything change.
You have such a stable relationship with these three. It’s very healthy, and you all also share very amicably. It’s just a house full of love, a real family, something you all needed.
Those three are all very loving, and all they can hope for is your love back. It’s really all they need. And they’re very grateful that it’s something they get every day.
You all live in Steve’s house together. And even though there’s plenty of rooms, lots of personal space, most nights, you four all fall asleep in a massive bed together. Every bedroom has a bed big enough for all four of you. But realistically it could be for three, even with Robin’s star fishing, and Eddie’s habit of stealing the blankets, you all sleep very close with each other anyways. Not only do you all feel safer that way, but it’s just become routine for you all now, in your loving home. For everyone to cuddle up together at night. Even though nightmares have decreased since, it also makes it easier for you all to be there when someone does have a nightmare, or be able to tell one if your love’s is, and soothe them in sleep until they’re peacefully snoring again.
The three all have their own relationships with each other, as well as you, and altogether, and bounce off of each other in different ways.
Robin and Steve have their own close friendship, it really was just like the universe created them to be best friends. Which also means they’re comfortable enough to live in a home together and be themselves. Which includes Robin jumping over the back of the sofa and killing Steve’s knees when she lands, to say hello to you both. And Steve lifting Robin over his shoulder to lock her out of his bedroom because he was just suaving you up in his charmingly dorky way. And the two bickering over who gets you have your chest in their mouth first, until six minutes later when you just shove both their heads towards your chest, so their mouths can do something else while you freeze half naked.
But they are very close, and love that they live together now. Having their best friend who they trust and can be themselves with so completely, but is also such a light in their life and someone they love spending every evening having fun with, makes Robin and Steve the happiest they’ve ever been. As well as all four of you. Everyone’s so close, and you’ll walk into a room to see any mixture of them hugging on the couch. Sometimes Robin and Steve are so squished into a corner of the sofa together, since personal space just isn’t really a thing with them, so you’ll go and just sit on top of their mess of limbs, just to add to the pile. Sometimes something happens, and Robin or Steve might go to each other first, for any multitude of reasons, and cry to their best friend in the entire world and the one underneath them, and get that comfort they never got till they knew each other, or you and Eddie.
Their friendship only strengthens being with you two, and they didn’t even know that could be possible. Now, they just can never be separated. They really are like shelter animals that bond as a pair. You’ll hardly ever see one without the other for long, and while they can have their own personal time, and aren’t unhealthily codependent, they’ll miss their best friend :(
And they both conspire against Eddie in only funny ways, which Eddie always gets them back for, even with being up against the dynamic duo. They mostly create mischief directed at Eddie, since he seems to think he’s the king of that here. Or they work together to surprise you. They’ll even work together against Eddie, with a secret fistbump hand shake as they agree on their plans.
Steve once sat his full weight on Eddie, who only smiled surprised at the fact, but then Robin gets to sit on your lap and fully make out with you, as as much as Eddie scrambles, Steve made himself firm the second he sat, smirking as Eddie whacks at him “man, get off!” while Robin steals you away. Once you two got upstairs, Robin and Steve sharing a thumbs up while you giggled at them, and apologetically at poor Eddie, Steve responded with a ‘calming’ pat to Eddie “Nah man, I think Robin’s the one ‘getting them off’.” To which he got more grunts of ‘shut up!’ and ‘lemme go asshat!’ off of his dear beloved life partner.
Or Robin distracts Eddie with a good chat for Steve. Maybe about music, or giving Eddie a treat, beckoning Eddie from a corner and asking if he wants some ice cream from the extra garage freezer, making Eddie feel like the sneaky one, or asking him about one of his hyperfixations, knowing Eddie’s going into a thirty minute rant about the new dnd guide, and she genuinely keeps up the conversation as Eddie excitedly goes on, or she even distracts him with something shiny. And then Eddie can hear Steve’s car leaving and he knows what’s up, or he can hear the groans and squeaking two whole floors above the garage, and he knows he’s been bamboozled! All three respect each other’s grind though.
One time got Eddie not enjoying being on the receiving end of their plans, as they told Eddie you only had two of most things, a hand to hold, a leg to sit on, an ear to nibble on, while they were doing all of that, and teasingly shooing Eddie off. Eddie didn’t exactly tantrum when he was subby, but that night was quite different; and also backfired on the pair since they had to apologise and soothe Eddie, while you spent much more attention on him. Still, they deserved it. And Eddie left to get your favourite breakfast early the next morning, meaning the two could pick off their scheme where it started, and wake you up by continuing.
They still work at family video together as well, so normally they come home together, and both will have picked little treats for you, and Eddie, from the shops, or come back with take out they’d both decided on. They love getting the same shifts, and Steve likes organising the schedule for the household, making it easier to plan date nights if Eddie picks you up and then gets Steve and Robin from the same place. Or all making sure to get the next Sunday off, to go drive a few hours down to the beach together.
You didn’t say if Eddie and Steve were platonic or romantic in this poly, so I’ve tried to keep it open to interpretation if that’s okay! But they get along great in this poly too. Sometimes Eddie will come and squeeze your waist romantically, swaying with you as he comes to kiss your neck. But Steve was already flirting with you, so he just gives Eddie a “Hey!” To which Eddie apologises, before smacking Steve’s ass so he doesn’t feel left out. Eddie doesn’t even have to be interrupting you and Steve for him to sneak in and smack his lips on Steve’s cheek before running off using Steve’s car he’s not insured for, again, probably taking you for a quick trip with him.
Eddie also gives Stevie a whistle whenever the shirt comes off. Whether it’s with you in the bedroom, Steve cleaning up his pool for you four to use, or even Steve just existing in a room in his house, and Eddie’s only just noticed. Eddie will also lightly ‘prank’ Steve, but sometimes these pranks are actually rises to distract him from what Eddie’s really doing, which is usually stealing you away, but Steve is always so busy with Eddie’s initial trouble, so watch out.
Eddie and Steve are constantly teasing each other, but it’s never gone too far, they’re always pushing each other’s shoulders and smiling each and every time. Sometimes Steve goes into mom mode untangling Eddie, and his actions, but they both know it doesn’t mean they love the other any less.
And Steve and Eddie look out for you and Robin, like you all do for each other of course. No one walks home alone at night, not one of you. But one of your favourite sights of the three of them was Steve teaching Eddie his example, as Robin was so excited, and both men flexing their arms so they could swing Robin between themselves. It was such an endearingly funny moment, just some innocent fun, with no one around to judge, or ever say anything any of you think of is weird, or not mature or cool, or do anything to destroy the freedoms of being yourselves, not in your new home.
Steve has learnt how to carry two people, on a shoulder each, to sort his family out. So on nights you guys have been drinking, and either Steve decides you’ll find it more fun to be lifted since you can’t walk great, or you’ve excitedly asked Steve to do so (and maybe Eddie has joined your begging too) Steve’s found it’s easier to throw both you and Eddie over a shoulder each, and call for Robin, because she’s the most likely to follow right behind Steve at seeing you two being pulled upstairs.
Steve really loves his family too. He’s always going out of his way to make sure the relationship’s great, to keep everyone happy. He’s already got three holidays planned, that you guys have all scoured ideas over together, spending countless nights picking out places that look amazing, and deciding what seasons work best for which location. He’s always coming home thinking about you guys, as well as everyone else he cares about, but bringing home stuff to show he was thinking about you all day, and he loves you all, as well as expressing it vocally which he’s so good at now. Hugging you all and feeling so relieved back at home, with you all in his arms, and smiling so happily back. In such a great relationship.
And yeah I have a whole post about Robin and Eddie x reader, but also you three all work so hard to make sure Steve isn’t working too hard. He needs his family to help remind him of that sometimes. And you three all look after him, just as much as he does everyone else. Sometimes it does take all three of you, someone to keep Steve sat in bed, someone to do the chores like cleaning and getting lunch (or if Steve’s sick and trying to move, getting him medicine as well), and someone to make sure Steve’s errands for the day so he doenst feel like he’s disappointed anyone or ruined his responsibilities, like driving the kids somewhere, is all taken care of. Taken care of like you three do with Steve. Who knows that because all three of you are set on his tasks, tasks just Steve was planning on handling alone, he can try and relax, and let himself be himself. Let himself be comforted by his family.
Eddie and Robin also plan things without Steve’s knowledge too, but all four of you do that occasionally. They can be a mischievous pair, not held down by Steve’s thinking things through. They have stolen you from him before, although usually for less time, since being the only one left behind isn’t something any of your lovers do to anyone, for long at all, just in case. Unless they think Steve needs to be taught a lesson, by them having their fun ways.
One time though, Steve wanted everyone to do a full day of spring cleaning, together as a house. Something the whole week you, Eddie, and Robin had promised Steve you would not be doing, so don’t even ask. Steve meant for the entire day to be taken up by household chores. The house wasn’t even in complete disarray, but Steve had clapped his hands and suggested you all could get to work on some projects in the house not done yet, like painting the fence. Eddie had grabbed yours and Robin’s hands on the morning of, smiling with his tongue out at Steve, promising he’d come back with ice cream for King Harrington too, and maybe once he’d gotten that stick out his ass and decided to join them for fun, and at least compromise on just cleaning for a little while today, DIY tomorrow or something, Eddie could also steal Steve away for some fun, altogether as a family.
Although you had begged Eddie to drive back only half an hour later, instead of eating your ice cream in the parlour, because you just felt like something was wrong, and when you got back to Steve doing all the tasks alone, the entire living room looking already fully finished, carrying really heavy objects around the house, and you swore you heard him sniffling, your faces all dropped. And the ice cream was put in the freezer, while Robin tentatively made sure Steve wasn’t in a bad mood with any of you and wouldn’t shout, so you could leap forward and bring Steve onto your lap, for some apology cuddles, that he’d be getting from everybody. There never were really any serious arguments. Just teasing bickering, and then talks that needed to be had!
Also, with Robin, they’ll leave you and Robin alone if the bedroom’s a rockin’, although they have been known to interrupt for the bit. Eddie making large scary sounds behind the door, with a satisfied smirk when you both scream, or Steve banging on the door when he knows you two have finished to suggest you two kids better not be shaming God’s eyes in his own home. Occasionally, when you and Robin have been really quiet for a while, one will stretch their arm in, very obviously hiding their eyes under their hands so they are blind to any sins (just in case someone’s naked and doesn’t want to be seen right then) to hand you both water bottles, and make sure no one’s dead in there, since it sounded like an earthquake about twenty minutes ago and it’s been radio silence since.
But that doesn’t mean Steve Eddie and Robin aren’t always separated in the bedroom when it comes to you. They just know sometimes people want time alone together! Steve and Eddie will do the same for the other, and Robin for them. Those three happily share you together. Obviously Steve and Eddie don’t do anything with Robin specifically, you guys all know each other’s okay’s and no thank you’s very well! But all four of you in the bedroom together, or any mixture, e.g. you Steve and Robin, you Steve and Eddie, you Robin and Eddie, happens too!
And oh... all three of them love working on you together. Having sessions all devoted to you, or rather, where all three fully devote themselves to you. The three all worshipping you... or playing with you. You being their good little girl/sub, under the three of them, who are working together on you, makes them all glow. They love how overwhelmed with love you look. Not sure where to look sometimes. Just looking up at them, so doe eyed, so beautiful, so awed. Knowing all three of your partners are working on you because they love you. And your eyes constantly moving around because someone else is doing something amazing to another part of your body and it’s so much. Those are some of their favourite times in the bedroom with you.
#I’m sorry this took a little while I have been FOAMING to finish this since I got the bug on my acct#jumped over as soon as it was fixed! ty for this!#pls give me more ideas about these three! any little things you think of for this dynamic id love to talk more abt em! <3#stranger things#Steve Harrington/reader#Eddie Munson/reader#Robin Buckley/reader#Steve/Eddie/Robin/reader#platonic stobin/reader#steddie/reader#Steve Eddie Robin and reader poly#ask#anon#eddie munson#Steve Harrington#Robin Buckley#platonic stobin
13 notes
·
View notes
Note
HEAR ME OUT ON SUB! HUSBAND! FRANCIS AND DOPPELGÄNGER READER I BEG OF YOU AJAJSHSBDBJSEHE
sub! husband! francis mosses x dom! doppelgänger! gn! reader
summary: phone sex with needy francis mosses (pt. 2 here)
wc: 1.6k
content warning: nsfw, praise, dirty talk, exhibitionism kinda (security camera on him), slight nipple play, masturbation
author's note: thank u for the great ask anon :) i had so many ideas with this one, but this one stuck the most hehe >:) sorry for literally taking so long on this, writer's block is a bitch!! hope you guys enjoyed this one !! not proofread, minors pls dni !!
it was just a quick one-two, in and out of this man's apartment.
you just needed a reason to stay in this person's apartment until you established your place. you'd act like his loving, doting partner, working their job then living their best life. that was the plan.
but here you were, complaining about their life like it was yours.
things were getting boring in the security office. there was no one to deny because you let your fellow doppelgängers in. plus, it was a weekend so no one wanted to be home today.
in contrast, something you did like about living your copy's life was your new husband. he'd come home earlier from deliveries just to wait for you to come through the front door. dinner ready, table set, plants watered. he was such a sweetheart, always tending to your needs.
unexpectedly, as domineering as he seemed, he was actually more needy in the bedroom. always needing guidance, extra attention and someone to boss him around. that's what got his dick rising.
so when you decided to phone his apartment, knowing it was off day, he was quick to pick up.
"hi dovie! how's work?" he had a little lilt in his voice, acting like he didn't stamper to the phone, knowing it was you. he wasn't one to give out his apartment number.
you chuckled at his speedy response, leaning back in your chair. "hi lover boy. it's going..." you trailed off, checking the window for any customers. "you miss me?"
"mhm. always miss you," he nodded, holding the phone tightly in his grasp. "when're coming home, hm?" like a puppy waiting for its owner to come home.
"miss you too, honey. my shift ends at 6. three more hours to go!" you cheered sarcastically, staring at the clock as you watched the hands tick. "you alright all by yourself?" you asked, pulling out a notepad.
you had a habit of doodling when francis spoke, he always loosened up when it came to you. "kinda. i miss you lots though. think 'm gonna read a book later," he rambled, though there was a distinct sound of rustling on his side.
"is that so? what book where you thinking of reading?" you placed the phone between your chin and shoulder, trying to find a pen. it was silent for a bit, but the rustling persisted. "francie? you still there?"
"oh, sorry," he cleared his throat, almost as if he was snapping himself out of a trance. "mmm, i-i don't know..." he was huffing softly, you could almost feel him breathing in your ear through the phone.
you were quick to put two and two together. "francie...are you doing something you shouldn't be doing?"
he almost let out a whimper, the rustling making much more sense. "'m sorry..." he sighed, the noisiness of his end coming to a full stop. "i-i was touchin' myself..."
as if it wasn't obvious already: his panting, his rustling. "'s okay, honey. do you need help?" he flushed at your suggestion, toying with the zipper on his slacks.
"b-but you're at work. don't wanna distract you," he mumbled, his thighs squeezing together at the thought of you guiding him to an orgasm.
"work's slow today. entertain me, honey," you chuckled, your laugh making his ears tingle. "want me to help you cum, hm?"
he nodded, forgetting that you couldn't see him. the blush on his face travelled from his ears to his cheeks, down to his neck and back. it was a sight you'd pay to see. "is your cock still in your hand, honey?"
"no, i was just rubbing through my pants..." he shyly confessed, feeling his bulge throb.
"m'kay, take off your pants and underwear and hold out your cock," you instructed, completely abandoning your doodles. "tell me what you were doing to yourself while i was talkin' to you, honey."
you heard shuffling against, fabric against skin. "mmm, well, hearin' y'r voice made my tummy feel funny. then i felt my cock feel tight in m'pants, hngh," he explained, his zipper quickly freeing his cock.
"s-so then i jus' started touching myself a lil'. just through my pants 'n shirt, nothin' else!" he defended himself, but his revelation made you smirk.
"playing with your chest too, hm?" you repeated, a wide grin plastered on your face. "is your cock in your hand now?"
"mhm!"
his hand was gripping at the base of his cock, squeezing it to get some sort of friction. he was kneeling on the couch, legs slightly spread, his balls rubbing against the cool leather underneath.
"why don't you start making yourself feel good, honey? stroke it nice and slow for me, yeah?" you cooed.
he did as you said, no questions asked, stroking at his already hard cock as slowly as he could. "'n then why not you keep playing with your chest for me too? since you had no problem doing it earlier."
"mngh...o-okay...!" he squeaked, his hips rutting into his hand. he quickly placed a hand on his chest, rubbing his nub with a waving hand motion. "o-ooh! 's so-"
"you really like that, huh? like when people play with your perky chest," you taunted, feeling your own chest feel heated.
you almost wanted to join him, but the security cameras in your office made you think otherwise. "i wanna go up there and fuck you, honey. you like that too?" you whispered, making him moan.
"mhm, mhm! c-come up, hn, please!" he begged, his hand picking up its pace. his slick was sticking to his hand, slowly gathering at the tip of his cock. "miss you, dovie! miss you lots, aagh!"
you could only imagine how pathetic he looked. legs spread, weeping cock in hand, nipples poking through his shirt. he would be waiting for you so patiently, waiting for you to come home with his cock rubbing against the carpet floors.
you felt yourself leaning too far forward, accidentally pressing a random button on your panel. francis' moans filled your ears, but a certain image popped up on the security camera feed.
your husband on full display.
"francie, can you look to your left a little?" you ushered him to look towards the camera in disbelief at your discovery.
he obeyed your orders almost instantly, making you smile. he was in the direction of the camera, but not looking at it directly. he was completely unaware of the it, as much as you were.
but despite the strangeness of it all, you wanted to use it to your advantage.
"lay on your back f'me, honey. make sure your legs are spread wide open," you instructed, watching him meekly get into position. "i want that shirt unbuttoned and your pants to your ankles."
he hastily got undressed, his hand cupping his left breast. you wanted to cum at the sight of your pretty husband all open up from you, waiting for your next command.
"what's next, dovie? what do you want to do to me?" he innocently asked, his freehand hooking under his thigh to pull it up to his chest.
you grinned evilly, looking at the lewd position he was in, fantasizing what you should do next. "i want you to keep stroking at your cock, and playing with your chest."
and he followed instructions so well. he'd stick his fingers in his mouth before rolling his spit covered digits around his nipple. then he'd stroke at his cock, the desperation to cum more evident on his face.
the way his brows knits and sweat rolled down his temples made it clear that he was close. all this while the phone was wedge between his shoulder and ear, making every moan very audible.
"don't slow down, honey. i need you to keep stroking until you cum." you scolded, seeing how tired his wrist was getting as he got closer.
"o-oooh 'kay! 'm t-tryin' my best, haaagh! hand's getting a lil' tired, dovie, mmngh!" his lewd moans slipped out, as his hips shook from the speed he was stroking at.
his eyes were screwed shut, drool dripping down his lips at the thought of you praising him. "'m cumming soon, dovie! h-have to cum soon, unngh!" he panted, fucking into his fist.
you chuckled at his desperation, closely looking at your husband squirming on the couch, curtains wide open for the world to see the little slut you were hiding away.
"'m not seeing you pinching your nipples, honey," you scolded, making him tense up.
he did what you asked for, tugging at the tips of his nubs, but your comment made his dick tighten. "hnnnghh! y-you can see me?" his back arched against the couch, the view of his dick getting closer to the overhead security cam.
"o-oooGHH! c-CUMMING! cumming, dovie! 's coming out, hnnnghhh!" he exclaimed, cum shooting out of his tip, staining the entirety of his face and the couch.
although the feed was in black and white, you could see the splotches of cum that coated your couch and the way his clothes darkened from the wetness.
"such a good boy, honey. did so well f'me," you praised, chuckling at the way he twitched in his spot, unmoving. "you g'na wait until i get up there and fuck you properly, huh?"
he nodded mindless, huffing loudly into the phone.
suddenly, someone walked up to the window. "entry request and id, please," you disregarded the lewd image in front of you, returning back to your job.
he felt himself cum again just from the sight of your professionalism. you were so sexy when you were on the job. his orgasm came too quicky, his cock throbbing at the loss of cum.
"n-need you to f-fuck me, dovie, hn..." francis moaned into the phone, making you blush. you mindlessly looked through the person's papers, paying no mind to accuracy.
you let them through with no questions before gripping at the phone. "'m leavin' early. just for you, francie," you growled into the phone, feeling yourself get worked up.
"be ready in 5. i'm comin' up."
#francis mosses#francis mosses x reader#sub francis mosses#that's not my neighbour#thats not my neighbor#that's not my neighbor#milkman#smut#x reader#ncrescent asks
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
THIS ISN’T GOODBYE, THIS IS SIMPLY SEE YOU LATER…
⋆˙⟡ pairing: ex husband/baby daddy rhysand x fem reader
⋆˙⟡ summary: people who love each other will always find their way back. you and rhys divorced a few years ago, but you will always love each other
⋆˙⟡ warnings: 18+, mdni light angst, hurt to comfort, fluff, smut, violent behavior (not rhysand), misogyny, they’re in love your honor😔
⋆˙⟡ amara’s note: i’m a little iffy about this bc i feel like it could be better but i hope you love it. The smut isn’t really that smutty, it’s more fluffy. Please, let me know what you think; leave a comment😌💗 also english isn’t my first language so if something doesn’t make sense, ignore💀 ALSO LISTEN TO CEILINGS BY LIZZY WHEN YOU GET TO THE RUNNING SCENE PLS IT’S GONNA MAKE SO MUCH SENSE (i hope)
Getting back into the dating scene after your divorce felt strange. Unbeknownst to you, you found yourself unconsciously comparing every man to Rhys, nitpicking on their behavior. Seated at a beautiful restaurant with a guy quite different from your usual choices, things seemed promising until he gave you some backhanded compliments.
“You say you're a doctor? You?” His words grated on your nerves, and you couldn't fathom why he was so shocked.
“Yes, I am. Is that surprising to you?” you retorted.
He chuckled nervously and shook his head. “No, no. I just pegged you for a nurse or something. You know, something more feminine.”
Your hopes deflated. Turns out, this guy wasn't different at all—he was just like every pompous and misogynistic man out there.
Keeping your cool, you fire back with a smirk,
“Is this coming from the person who just told me they bake for a living? I pegged your for a construction worker, you know, something more masculine.” With a smile you excuse yourself from the table, leaving him puzzled and perhaps questioning his outdated assumptions. Your departure left him to contemplate his lacking dinner date skills.
In the search for someone matching the love you'd known, you found yourself in a loop of comparing every date to Rhys. You shook your head, realizing you needed to stop this habit and maybe, just maybe, find happiness beyond those high standards.
With a dramatic exhale, you frowned, blaming Rhys for your lousy love life. After all, he had treated you like a goddess, setting extremely untouchable standards.
—
As if the mother herself had heard your wish, you finally met a somewhat decent man who wasn’t giving you any backhanded compliment or was making you feel uncomfortable. Although he was somewhat nice he was a little bland and not something you would typically go for. He was very nice with your daughters but could have a temper.
But beggars can’t be choosers right?
With utmost tenderness, you approached the conversation with your twin daughters, explaining the new man in your life. In soft words, you explained that mommy and daddy weren't together anymore, framing it as a journey of finding happiness even though you deep down weren’t feeling the happiness you portrayed. You emphasized the still-there love between you and their father, assuring them that sometimes people are just better off as friends.
Even though the news initially saddened them, your gentle touch in explaining the complexities of grown-up emotions, coupled with the warmth of your smile, melted their worries away. As they saw the happiness radiating from you, your daughters embraced the idea, understanding that your heart always carried love for them and their father.
Little did you know that your mischievous baby girls spilled the news to Rhysand, sharing every detail about the man you were seeing, your dates, and even telling him that you still loved Daddy. However, being the little dramatists they were, they exaggerated, making it seem like you were head over heels for him.
Despite almost three years of separation and the seemingly agreement to divorce, the twins' confession ignited a flame of jealousy in Rhysand. The mere thought of you going on dates and being entertained by other men stirred an irrational desire within him to claim you as his own. Witnessing other males treating you and touching you made him feel absolutely murderous.
He hates that you’re not together anymore, hates that you don’t wear your wedding ring even tho he wears his, he hates that he’s not by your side. But most of all he hates himself for ever letting your marriage break apart.
Rhys had attempted countless times to mend what was once whole, to win you back and rebuild what had crumbled. However, you always hesitantly turned him down, insisting that you couldn't put each other through that hurt again.
The fact that the girls spoke so highly of the man you were dating only fueled Rhysand's jealousy and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes dramatically. “Oh, he’s so nice, took us out for ice cream and we went to the theater,” they gushed. He couldn't shake the feeling that it should've been him – watching plays with you and your daughters, taking them out for ice cream together. The longing for the life he once had with you remained a persistent ache in his heart.
Of course he doesn’t let it go the next time you come around to drop off the girls
The joyful echoes of your daughters filled Rhysand's new and massive mansion, quickly greeting their father and saying goodbye before dashing inside, leaving you and Rhysand alone. Observing them run to the living room, playing with their new toys, you couldn't help but smile. With their father's violet eyes and dark hair, they were practically clones of Rhysand.
Caught in the moment, you looked up at Rhysand, finding his captivating eyes already fixed on you.
Fuck.
The intensity of his gaze almost made you forget the dinner plans with your boyfriend.
“I heard you were seeing someone,” he remarked, and you froze, feeling an unexpected twinge of embarrassment. It wasn't supposed to be a secret; you just weren't ready to share it yet. Trying to save face, you swallowed back any stutter and inquired,
“Who told you that?”
“My daughters told me all about him.”
That’s what you get for trusting 6 year olds. Your attempt at secrecy shattered, and you found yourself apologizing,
“Ah, sorry for not telling you about it; it's all very new, but the kids seem to like him. And I promise he wouldn’t be around them if i didn’t trust him.”
Rhysand's jaw ticked in frustration. Well, wasn't that just fucking great? Your daughters not only liked but loved the guy, and here you were, agreeing with them.
“So, you two hit it off. How marvelous.”
You sighed and looked away,
“Please, just don’t.”
Silence hung in the air as you both stood there, the weight of unspoken emotions filling the room. Breaking the silence, you sighed, signaling your readiness to leave your old house.
“Okay then, I'll be leaving now. I'll come pick them up later tonight. Thanks for watching them tonight, I know it was last minute. But, um, actually, can I pick them up tomorrow instead?” you asked, and Rhysand felt a flicker of suspicion, silently praying he was wrong.
“ I thought we agreed on tonight. Do you have other plans?” he inquired, hoping for a straightforward answer.
Your face flushed red as you considered explaining the evening's plans, but it felt wrong to share such details with Rhys. Opting for a lie, you hoped he wouldn't catch on.
“Oh, yeah, I've got some things I need to do at the hospital tonight. You know, just some reports on a few patients. Nothing major, but I might be a bit... worn out tonight, and that's why I need to pick them up tomorrow.”
The half-truth hung in the air, and Rhysand's suspicions lingered, creating a subtle tension in the farewell.
“So this has nothing to do with you going on a date with your little friend? Sorry, boyfriend.”
Before you could respond, Rhysand stepped closer, closing the gap until there was almost no room between you. You backed away slowly until your back hit the front door. His towering presence made you look up at him, a shiver running down your spine. Tilting his head, he approached your ear, and the soft words he spoke, combined with the warm breath on your skin, sent a wave of heat through your body.
“It should be us, love. Please come back to me,” he murmured, and your eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed by the proximity. As his hands came around your waist, turning you around so your back rested against his sturdy chest, it became impossible to leave the embrace of his warmth. Deep down, a part of you didn't want to escape the intoxicating sense of his presence.
He pulls you even closer, wrapping his arms around your middle as his calm heartbeat pounds against your back, his words confessing a truth that breaks your heart twice.
Once, because the vision he paints sounds so ideal – the two of you getting back together, going on dates, playing with your daughters, being a whole family again. It's the life you had once dreamed of, the life you wanted with the man you spent centuries with, the father of your kids, your greatest love.
The second break comes with the painful reminder of why you found yourself in this mess in the first place. Rhysand had been too consumed by his work, constantly holed up in his office, neglecting the precious time with you and your daughters. Despite understanding the importance of his duties, you couldn't help feeling the sting of neglect. It reached a breaking point when your girls tearfully asked for their daddy every night, only to find he wasn't there.
Realizing the toll this dynamic took on your family's well-being, you made the difficult decision to part ways. Telling Rhys that you weren't good for each other at the moment, you emphasized the need for him to work on himself and find a balance between work and family.
As you gather the strength to move out of his grip, facing him becomes the hardest task.
Turning around to meet his gaze, his face reveals the devastation within. His once vibrant features now wear a sad and empty color. You utter words that add another layer to the heartbreak,
“Rhys, please, you know we can't. Someday but not now.”
His eyes gloss over as he whispers,
“Fate was not in our favor, my dear. But I swear on everything I have, I will do my best to earn you back.”
Tears well up as he kisses your forehead, whispering promises of finding a way back to you.
The weight of the unspoken goodbye lingers, and you walk away, hoping that time and healing would pave a path for the future you both yearned for.
Because you did want to be with him, you really fucking did, and you cried the whole way home. Rhys had given you the town house while he lived in the River estate. The tears flowed even more freely as you sat in your empty and silent house.
Each sob intensified as you went to your cold and empty bed, the very one that used to cradle him in – your husband, your heart. The ache of the empty space beside you was a painful reminder of the love that once filled those sheets, now replaced by solitude and the haunting echo of what had been lost.
—
Your puffy eyes opened slowly, abruptly yanked from a deep slumber by the pounding on your door. Glancing at the clock on your desk, the numbers 1:46 glared back at you – who the hell could it be at this hour? Irritated, you stumbled to the door, ready to chew out whoever dared disturb your sleep.
The door slammed open, revealing Sam standing there, visibly upset. Your still-sleepy brain failed to connect the dots fast enough, and it took a moment to register that you were supposed to be on a date with him tonight. The realization dawned, and you found yourself caught in the awkward aftermath of a missed arrangement, facing Sam with both confusion and exhaustion etched on your face.
“Where the hell have you been? I have been waiting for hours,” he exclaimed, his worried and angry eyes searching yours.
Feeling a twinge of guilt, you pulled him in by his hands, urging him to come inside. Apologizing over and over, you hugged him tightly, saying that you fell asleep over and over until he forgave you.
A part of you knew you did it to calm his potentially violent reaction.
“At least your alive. Next time, let me know so I don't look like a fucking idiot,” he said, his comment irking you despite understanding where he was coming from.
Stepping closer, you wrapped your arms around Sam's neck, pulling him into a distracting kiss that escalated quickly.
Before he could say anything more about the situation and grow even more angry you kissed him again, trying to shift his focus elsewhere, which was easy. He lifted you and walked you toward the bed, the same one you had shared with Rhys.
Suddenly, a wave of panic hit you at the thought of another male's scent mixing with Rhysand's. With huffed breath and panicked words, you interrupted the moment, “No, not the bed. Let's just use the couch instead.”
Your urgency left no room for argument as you pulled him toward the living room, desperate to avoid a mix of past and present that could overwhelm you with regret.
—
The birds chirping outside stirred you from your sleep as you stretched in your soft bed. Morning got here quicker than you thought. However, the warmth you felt next to you wasn't just the morning sun – it was Sam. Your eyes opened, facing the clock, you saw it was very early in the morning, 3:57. The memories of the previous hours hit you like a brick. A bigger realization followed – Sam's scent now filled the air, replacing the familiar citrusy aroma that had been your husband’s for centuries.
This revelation overwhelmed you, making you want to throw up as tears welled up as panic set in. Crying over this felt foolish, considering your separation from Rhys, but it made everything feel permanent and official, like there was no turning back. The chance to reconcile seemed lost.
As you stood up, the room spun with regret, and you slithered to the bathroom. The sight that greeted you made your stomach churn – bruises covered your neck, arms, and legs. Your hair was a mess, and your lips were swollen. More tears fell as regret, deep sorrow, and the weight of your choices consumed you.
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
It wasn't supposed to be like this at all.
In your panicked state, you stepped into the shower, hoping to wash away not only the physical remnants of the night but also the emotional burden that clung to your every step.
The steaming shower brought no comfort, and as you shut it off and walked up to the mirror, wiping away steam, you saw a hollowness in your own eyes. The water didn't wash away the feel of Sam's hands on you. But you knew you could drink a tonic for the bruises, so you could atleast pretend it never happened.
Frustrated and heartbroken, you couldn't stop the tears from flowing. The one person you needed the most, Rhys, felt impossibly distant, intensifying the ache inside you.
Desperation took over, and wiping away tears, you threw on a robe, downed the healing tonic and quickly ran over to his house. Each step carried regret and a deep yearning to fix what had gone wrong.
Your Rhys, the father of your children, yours.
He was what you needed in the moment, he’d make it all better.
In the midst of irrationality and impulsivity, you could not find it in you to care about the consequences. All you needed was him.
You burst into his estate, slamming open the doors before frantically searching for him.
“Rhys?”
Your attempt at a yell came out as an ugly cry, tear-stained and choked.
Yet, it was enough to grab his attention.
Rhysand descended the stairs, clad only in pants, his trademark messy bedhead on display as worry etched across his face.
It was so unlike you, and it had him speculating the worst.
Before he could ask you any questions, you ran up to him and broke down in his arms. Rhysand immediately comforted you, picking you up, and hauling you upstairs to his bedroom.
No words were needed as he undressed your sobbing form and put you in his shirt before pulling you closer to him, making you sit in his lap.
Your face buried in his neck, tears dampening his skin. Rhysand, familiar with your ways, sensed you’d open up when ready. He sat, holding you, flooding your mind with love and reassurance without a single word.
Rhysand conjured a glass of water, holding it to your lips, ensuring you didn't exert yourself. As you downed the refreshing water, he gently tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, his hand lingering by your neck. His thumb traced soothing circles on your cheek, a silent gesture of comfort.
“Thank you, Rhysie. M’sorry for showing up like this but I just needed you.”
His gaze intensified, his grip firm yet reassuring as he held your chin, locking eyes with you. With a seriousness that touched deeply, he spoke, his words carrying a sense of unwavering commitment.
“You don’t apologize for it. I’m here for you, no matter what. Do you understand?”
You nod, throat closing up at the wave of emotions,
“I understand.”
He leans forward, kissing your forhead while cradling your head,
“Good girl. You want to tell me what’s going on?”
With teary eyes you look up to him and reveal what’s on your mind.
“I want us back together again. We belong together and I’m tired of pretending we don’t. I miss you so much. You’ve been working on yourself and I’ve been doing the same. I know we’re ready.”
Rhysand remained silent, his eyes studying you carefully. He sensed an emotional storm within you and was hesitant about decisions made in this state.
“I do not disagree. Reuniting our family, especially getting you back, my sweet girl, is my ultimate desire. But, I want you to sleep on it. I want us to discuss this when we're well-rested and more alert. What do you say?”
You knew you were being rash and quick, so you were thankful for Rhysand's guidance. You nodded in agreement.
He kissed your cheek and gently placed you under the sheets, joining you in bed. Rhysand pulled you closer, and soon you were resting on his chest, listening to the steady thudding of his heart.
“I’ve always loved you, Rhys, so much. I hope you know that.”
His heartbeat quickened as he pulled you even closer.
“I know, sweetheart. I love you too.”
—
The chirping birds and soft sunlight streaming through the window woke you up gently. Your body felt completely relaxed and at ease, knowing you were safe and sound. Stretching lazily, you sighed in contentment before rolling over in bed.
You felt the warmth of something next to you, so you snuggled closer, enjoying the comfort. After a few moments, you felt it stir.
The moving object was Rhysand. Your eyes widened, and for a moment, you almost scrambled away in panic before the events of this early morning flooded back to you.
Despite the fact that you had left your boyfriend alone in your house and now found yourself in your ex's bed, cuddled up to him, you didn't feel any panic. Instead, you felt indifferent. You felt surprisingly good, even better than before. You felt right. Like everything was in it’s place.
“Don't panic,” Rhysand murmured softly, reaching out to gently stroke your back. “We need to have that talk, darling.”
Nodding silently, you agreed to follow him downstairs, your mind racing.
You couldn't help but melt around him. There was no need to even use your brain around him. Rhys made everything feel delightful as he began fussing over you. He did everything from dressing you in the cutest outfits to gently brushing your hair. With his big, warm, comforting hands, he led you downstairs, making every step feel like a new chapter starting.
Once in the kitchen, Rhysand set to work, expertly whipping up breakfast as you watched him, a knot of anticipation forming in your stomach. You knew this conversation was important, but you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort as you observed his familiar movements in the kitchen.
You couldn't help but admire Rhysand as he moved around the kitchen, his muscles flexing with every movement. He had a newfound confidence about him, a certain dad-like aura that only added to his appeal. His masculine energy was buzzing, and combined with his good looks, it was hard not to be drawn to him. Rhys had grown impossibly more majestic and stunningly handsome in the years you were seperated.
Rhysand caught you staring, and a playful smirk tugged at his lips. “Like what you see?” he teased, his voice low and suggestive. The heat rose to your cheeks as you quickly looked away, unable to hide your blush.
“Maybe I do,” you whisper teasingly, a hint of mischief in your voice.
“Careful,” he warns with a playful glint in his eyes, matching your flirtatious tone.
As he handed you a plate filled with nostalgic food, you couldn't help but feel touched by his thoughtfulness. He had even removed the bits you didn’t like, showing that he remembered even the smallest details about you. It warmed your heart to know that he still cared so deeply.
After you finished eating, he cleared his throat with a serious yet excited tone and said, “Let's talk.”
With a nod, you accept and he extends his hand, guiding you to a cozy sitting room.
“Where are the twins?” you ask, curious when you don’t hear or see your daughters.
“They’re with Cassian and Nesta. They came and picked them up earlier this morning,” he responds.
You nod again, then sit down on the cushy couch next to him.
“Rhys, I’ve thought about it for a while, and I think yesterday just cemented it for me. I think I’m ready for us again, and I’ve missed us together. What do you think? I mean, do you want me too?”
He flashed you his most sincere and hidden smile he only showed you and grabbed your chin with his pointer and thumb
“Sweetheart, I’ve missed you more than words can express. Of course, I want us to be together again. You are my everything and I will never again risk you.”
He took a deep breath and looked down, his voice filled with remorse.
“I've hated myself for letting you go so easily. I wasn't there for you or the girls, and it will always be my biggest regret. I vow to never again disappoint you and to do everything in my power to earn back your trust in my presence. Please forgive me.”
As the faint burn of the promising bargain tattoo emerges on both his and your wrists, a soft smile graces your lips. With gentle assurance, you reach out and place your hand on his, your touch offering comfort and calmness.
“Rhys, I forgive,” you say sweetly and hopeful. “I've missed you, and I want us to be together again. Let's leave the past behind us and focus on building a future together, okay?”
Feeling his arms around you, you melt into the hug, wrapping your arms around his neck. His touch is comforting, and you revel in the warmth of his warmth. As he gently squeezes your waist, you giggle, feeling a sense of joy wash over you.
He attacked your cheek with kisses, making him land on top of you on the couch as your back rested on the seats.
“But I think we should take it slow. Maybe start off by going on dates.”
He pulls back and looks at you, his gaze intense yet tender. “Yes. Let's take it slow. We have all the time in the world, no need to rush.”
You both sit there, locked in a silent exchange, the air thick with anticipation as you inch closer to each other.
“We definitely shouldn't kiss, right?” you ask, feeling the heat of his breath mingling with yours.
His arms tighten around you as he speaks softly, his words grazing your lips. “We shouldn't.”
The moment your lips touch, tears prick at the corners of your eyes. It's been so long since you felt the familiar warmth of his kisses, the feeling of home in his embrace. Rhysand, your darling, the love of your life—you've missed him more than words can express.
As the kisses grow more messy and desperate, a soft whimper escapes your lips, causing his eyes to darken with desire.
A sudden panic washed over you at the thought of your now ex-boyfriend waking up to find you gone.
“Rhys, I have to go back and end things with Sam,” you blurted out, your voice raspy and flustered between kisses.
Rhys's expression darkened as he heard about your ex-boyfriend.
“I'll handle it,” he declared, determination lacing his voice.
“What does that mean?” you pressed, curious and a little concerned.
He responded with a secretive smile, kissing you again, his touch making you melt into him.
“Don’t worry your little head about it. I got it covered,” he assured, his tone confident and reassuring.
So you let it go. If he said he had it handled, then you trusted him to take care of it.
His assurance left you feeling cared for, sparking a desire for more. More of him, and more of that comforting reassurance he provided.
Before you could voice your need for him, he beat you to it. With a tender kiss on your forehead, he spoke softly.
“I’m going to take you upstairs and make up for lost time. But before we start, I’m going to feed you a little bit more. Don’t argue, you’re going to need the energy.”
Your mind went blank, slipping into a submissive state, ready to follow his lead without question.
With a nod, you rose from your seat, arms outstretched in silent compliance.
“That’s my girl,” he murmured as he lifted you effortlessly, cradling you in his arms. With each step towards the kitchen, his gentle strokes on your hair and whispered promises of what lay ahead sent shivers down your spine, heightening the anticipation of what was to come.
After quickly eating the food he conjured up, you stood up in a rush and grabbed his hand, urging him to take you upstairs right away.
He chuckled and scooped you up, showering kisses on your lips and neck as he carried you upstairs, your legs instinctively wrapping around his middle.
Your nails dig into his scalp, head thrown back as you whimper with pleasure. Your toes curl as his teeth graze against a sensitive spot, his smirk growing against your skin.
“Tell me, darling. How do you want it today?”
You're only aware that you're inside the bedroom when he sets you down in front of the bed.
You know exactly how you want it. You want him to take charge, dominating your every move, just like he used to. Rhys knew how quickly you submitted to him, and he had a hunch of how tonight would go. It was easy slipping into those roles with him in charge. So you look up at him with a shy smile, fondling with the strings of his dark linen pants, and tell him.
“Can we please do level four?”
Pride spread across him at your good manners. He loved that you still knew what to do even after years of not being together.
He would have sent all his loving emotions through the bond if it existed. The absence of a bond between him and you always seemed abnormal. Both of you questioned the Mother’s decision all the time, hiding the fact that you both were scared of the possibility of your mates popping up and claiming the other.
Shaking away his thoughts, he smiled at your words again and complied.
Step by step, he undressed you, his eyes never leaving yours. Rhysand’s eyes dropped to your pebbled nipples, goosebumps erupting on your skin at the intense attention he gave you.
“You still remember the safe word?” he rasped out, his pupils expanding as you nodded, your lips nervously caught between your teeth.
He pounced on you, eagerly kissing you in a brusing manner as he tightened his arms around you. Rhys slowly made you back, resulting in you falling backwards into the bed before he climbed on top of you.
His hands found your waist amd subtly squeezed before sliding up to your boobs and playing with your hardened nipples.
You whimpered in pleasure, making him smile as he lowered his mouth to attatch to your right breast. His wet, warm tounge swirled around the bud, biting and licking soothingly. He repeated the move on the other side, reveling in the way you were squirming under him.
“Is it too much, sweetheart?”
“Not enough.”
So his hand slid down your body until his thumb brushed over your throbbing clit. Your eyes rolled back when he put pressure on it, rubbing tight circles against you. It was almost mortifying how quick you melted and lost your mind.
A few more circles and you’d be cumming. Almost, almost.
The pleasure was short-lived when he removed his thumb, causing you to pout slightly as your brows furrowed in confusion.
“No teasing. You can play later, I’ve missed you too much.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a heated makeout session.
You also wrapped your legs around his waist and whispered against his lips,
“I need you so bad, please. I need your entire being.”
He slipped one finger in, sliding in all too easily. So he added another finger and felt your walls pulse around him. Rhys pulled them out before shoving them back in, repeating the move, stroking your walls. He curled his fingers inside as he carefully watched your face morph from a begging expression to a fucked out smile.
“I will give you whatever your heart desires,” he murmured against your lips before kissing you again. As he did, he conjured his massive and majestic wings, spreading them proudly behind him, a breathtaking display of power.
Your wobbly smile melted into tears of joy as you whispered, “There you are,” feeling overwhelmed by the rush of emotions at seeing him again.
Rhys didn’t waste a single second, pulling you forward and slowly positioning himself in front of you. He held onto his cock, letting the tip trace your pussy, circling it and letting your wetness drip onto his cock. Stroking the wetness along his cock, he used it as a lubricant before he slid himself inside you.
Rhys pulled out and then in again until his entire cock was stuffed in you. He then leaned forward, putting his forehead in the crook of your neck, gently biting and sucking hickies onto your skin. He began thrusting, harder and harder. The entire room echoing with skin slapping, groans and pornstar-like moans.
Rhysand’s gripped your hips in a brusing manner, rocking them back and forth forth as he moved his own hips.
He lifted his head and gently brought his hand to your face, cupping your chin as he murmured,
“You're mine. Mine to love, to fuck, to have.”
You nod eagerly, your need evident.
“Only yours, baby. Forever and always, yours.”
He growled softly and turned your body around so you were on all fours. Gripping your hair, he pulled it back, causing your back to arch against his chest.
Rhysand put his dick back in and pumped deliciously against that spongy spot that had you acting like a mindless fool.
“You got fucked this good while we were seperated, hm?”
His hand snaked up and held your neck, applying a gentle pressure, a hint of restraint, as he taunted you.
Of course, he already knew the answer. But it was always nice to hear it from you.
“M-right, there, no one compares to you. No one could ever, ah fuck, do me this good. P-please, let me cum.”
“Fuck, yeah that’s right. But I think it’s a little too early for you to cum. I told you I wanted to make up for lost time. We’re nowhere near done.”
You let out a whine at the denial, a little vexed that he didn’t give you permission yet. But you knew he had plans so you decided to wait in hopes of getting something better.
“Good things come for good girls, you know that right?”
“I understand. Just keep going.”
You knew you forgot to add a please and were more than happy when he gave your puffy clit a slap.
“Manners.”
“Keep going, please.”
He chuckled at how quick you gave in and kissed your cheek, letting go of your hair and pushing you forward to your elbows and knees. Rhys grabbed your hips and gave you deep, slow and intentional strokes. Almost like he wanted you to cum early.
Rhys kept going for a long time, bringing you to the edge, only to snatch away pleasure in the last second. You were tired but knew all of this was building up into the most intense and powerful orgasm ever.
“Do you know how much I love you? Do you have any idea how deep my love for you goes?”
Cue the waterworks.
Really, his words started making you bawl right there. With concern etched on his face, he gently moved you into missionary, turning the back-breaking backshots into a tender moment. As he pushed in for the last time, he hovered above you, his forearms on either side of your head, kissing your puffy lips.
“I love you too, Rhysie, so, so much. There's really no one I love more than you.”
Your words were raspy and choked, his words were sweet and understanding.
“I know, sweet girl. I know you do.”
Suddenly, a snap felt in your chest. You both locked eyes, breathing heavily as you felt a thread weaving your very souls together. Tears prickled in your eyes at his words.
As the realization of the mating bond sinked in, a warm glow envelops both of you, filling the room with a sense of love and belonging. Rhysand's eyes softened even more, if that's possible, as he gazed into your tear-filled eyes.
“You're my mate,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe and reverence. “My soulmate, my other half.”
You reached up to cup his cheek, feeling the connection between you grow stronger with each passing moment. “And you're mine,” you replied, your voice filled with emotion. “Forever and always.”
Rhysand moved quicker and quicker, finally allowikg you to cum.
You were on the verge of passing out, the only reason there was any sort of fight in you left was because of the charged bond.
Before he pulled out, you locked your legs around him and begged him to stay inside. He did and slumped on top of you, his head resting on your raising and falling chest. You ran your hands through his damp, dark hair and reveled in warmth when he wrapped his wings around the two of you.
You both rest for a while before starting up again. Normally, a session like this would have you knocked out cold but you guessed it was the fresh bond.
The entire day was spent tangled in sheets and fucking in showers, other rooms, hallways, kitchens, roofs. Rhysand also sent a mental message to everyone in the inner circle, breaking the news and asking them not to disturb you for at least a week. He also asked Cassian to keep looking after the girls and warned that anyone who got too close would likely die.
—
You and Rhys, lay together in a pile of fluffy blankets and pillows on the floor, the bed damaged and broken from the week’s activities.
“Rhys, do you know what I think? I think it’s kind if poetic that we broke up and then became mates. I mean, it sounds very romantic.”
He chuckled and pulled you closer to his chest.
“You know what? I agree. The Mother does work in mysterious ways. I guess we weren’t ready before.”
You smile at him and nod,
“I’m glad we find our way home.”
With a tender look and a sweet kiss, he whispered,
“As am I, darling.”
🏷️ taglist: @tayswhp @jenjen-0-x @itsinherited @thisblogisaboutabook @luvmoo @se7enteen--black-blog @feyretopia @possiblyphobia @azriels-mate2 @sfhsgrad-blog @readychilledwine @amara-moonlight @tothestarsandwhateverend @blupblupfish @cleverzonkwombatsludge @iloveazrielshadowsinger @cat-or-kitten @dreamlandreader @honeybeeboobaa @queerqueenlynn @rowaelinsdaughter @redbleedingrose @clairebear08 @danikamariewrites @midnight-and-books @ruler-of-hades @annaaaaa88 @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @stasiereads @harryshoobies69 @itsagrimm @a-dorkier-book-keeper @b0xerdancer @erikan809 @glittervame
#talkswithamara#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#acotar x reader#acotar imagine#rhys x you#high lord rhysand#daddy rhys#rhysand a court of thorns and roses#rhys acotar#rhysand acotar#rhys x reader#rhys#rhysand x reader#rhysand#big dick daddy dilf rhysand#rhysand x fem reader#rhysand sjm#rhysand x y/n#sjm#sarah j maas#sjm universe#sjm books#sjmaas#cassian#nesta
537 notes
·
View notes
Text
SINGING LOW (teaser)
18+ / mdi
summary: despite everyone within the industry knowing mingyu to date around a lot, what didn't meet the public's eye was his undying crush on you, his label mate, and his need to fill the you-shaped hole in his heart with any girl who'd give him the time of day.
content: idol!mingyu x hybeidol!reader, pining, mingyu's kind of a slut, smut, afab reader, reader is a 97 liner, dry humping, a lot of made up shit abt the industry lmao, mentions of other idols, oral sex (f and m receiving), penetrative sex, angst, fluff, etc.
(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)
wc: 1.7k (teaser) 13k (full fic)
FULL FIC HERE
Or you can check it out on my ko-fi today by subscribing here and going on the fic here
a/n: this is not connected to my lil idol!mingyu x idol!reader series just fyi <3 also i decided to open a ko-fi!! (stop booing me pls T-T) here's a link to the details! anyways hope u enjoy this ive been thinking of this trope for a while <33
masterlist
Mingyu could still remember the day he met you. Well, maybe not met, but it was the first time he ever saw you face to face. It was at some awards show back in 2017. MAMA, was it? Or maybe the MMAs? Well, that didn't matter much. All he knew is that on stage, you had caught his eye.
It was only about a year into his debut, so he still wasn't too used to this scene. He simply sat back and enjoyed the pretty sight in front of him, knowing your group (and you) by name, but not having had the pleasure of meeting you personally by then. He hadn't met many people thus far, actually. At the time, most of his friends in the industry consisted of the twelve other members of his group. Coming from a small company, it had been hard for any of the members to begin to disperse and befriend their peers in the industry. Sure, they all had friendly acquaintances with other idols, but nothing could really compare to what they had with one another.
It wasn't until somewhere around 2017 that Mingyu had finally found a group of friends outside of his twelve members that he could trust. He had always been an outgoing guy, befriending anyone who'd look his way. He reasoned that someone had to be the icebreaker in every social situation, and he had given himself that job. Despite being a charismatic extrovert, however, most of these friendships did not stick. He developed many acquaintances, and maybe even situational friendships, but he had not really considered anyone a friend until meeting one Jeon Jungkook.
Jeon Jungkook was simply the tip of the iceberg. Some believed Mingyu had taken the man under his wing, while others believed the opposite, but it had in fact been a mutual aid. They had both felt a bit lost at the time they met, bonding over the many things their lives had in common. Their age being one of them. At first it was thrown around as a joke, the idea of forming a little group with the many other 97-liners within their industry. But that joke became reality soon after when Mingyu had met Yugyeom backstage during his group's most recent comeback at the time. The three soon became four, taking in a Cha Eunwoo, and then a Jaehyun from NCT. Even some of Mingyu's own members joining, having the privilege of being born on the great year of 1997. This was how you eventually entered the picture.
Mingyu had already known you, well, more so known about you. Despite being the same age, you had debuted a couple of years before Seventeen, which gave him the opportunity to get to know you as an idol before he did personally. He still remembered the days in the green basement, watching comeback shows with the members as they prepared for their own debut. There had been a specific day when your group had been presenting their newest comeback, which was also the day Mingyu first caught sight of you. You had caught his eye immediately. There was just something about you. He might've developed a slight interest in you from that moment on, hoping for the day in which he would become one of your peers.
Upon debuting, Mingyu had only seen you in passing for the first few years, the closest contact being a quick and informal introduction between your groups as you cruised through the backstage hallways of MNET. You looked even better in real life, he had to admit. But sadly, there was no one-on-one interaction between you that day. Nor was there during any of the following encounters throughout the next few years. It wasn't until a few years into the creation of the 97 squad that Mingyu had the pleasure of meeting you personally.
It was sometimes Jungkook who brought in new members to the friend group, but it was mostly Mingyu who would take the liberty of befriending the aforementioned members in order to introduce them into the group. It was mostly due to Mingyu's extroverted personality, which allowed him to strike up conversation with anyone at any time, unlike Jungkook who was a bit shier in that aspect. It had been Jungkook, however, who had first introduced the two of you. It had been backstage of MAMA or MMA, he wasn't completely sure. Mingyu also wasn't sure how you and Jungkook had met; he'd never bothered to ask, but upon your first meeting it had seemed like the two of you were close friends already. Mingyu had to admit that upon that first assumption, he was a bit jealous of his proximity to you. This was immediately followed by the realization that maybe Mingyu's previous infatuation in you went further than mere interest in you as a fellow idol, but it was maybe a bit of a crush. Regardless of what Mingyu had felt at the moment, he knew that he wanted to see you again.
For some unknown reason, you were not present in the following 97 gathering soon after your introduction. This struck Mingyu as strange, seeing as you were also a 97, and a friend of Jungkook's, so why would you not be present? It was soon after revealed to Mingyu that you had yet to be offered a spot in the now renown 97 squad. Jungkook had assessed that all the dating rumors that would come attached to the inclusion of a girl in the group were simply not worth it. He wanted to save you both the headache and the scandal. It seemed like a pretty reasonable decision. Mingyu, however, was not the most reasonable of people, often allowing his decision-making to be led by impulse rather than calculated choices. Which was why Mingyu had found himself walking up to you next time he spotted you at yet another comeback show, promptly asking you if you'd like to meet some of his friends sometime in the following week, claiming it was tradition for all 97s to go for a drink every other week. He felt like he was inviting you to join into a cult, or at least that's what you said to him it had felt like. But you had still agreed, giving him your number so that you could be privy to the details of the meeting.
Your admission to the friend group came very naturally, having already met a few of the members and easily befriending the rest. Yes, it had come with some controversy at first, but Mingyu had come to learn that you were quite strong-minded, not allowing a few rumors to get in the way of your personal life. It was easy for the two of you to grow close after that. Despite having befriended the entirety of the group, you and Mingyu seemed to form a more special bond, even seeking each other's company outside of group gatherings. It was all platonic, of course. Mingyu had quickly realized you did not seem interested in that way, so he tucked his crush deep within him, choosing to offer a friendship to you instead, never speaking of his crush to anyone. This was how the two of you came to become best friends.
This repression of his feelings, however, did not come without its consequences.
Mingyu was a hopeless romantic at heart. This meant that his crush never really went away. It actually worsened over the years that he knew you. But you never acted like anything other than a friend to him. You would always treat him the same way you did Jaehyun or Eunwoo. He was just another one of the members of the friend group to you. Yes, you two were closer in nature – calling each other the best of friends within the industry – but Mingyu did not want to risk that closeness just because of a selfish crush.
The repression of his feelings was also met with other things. Mingyu was a very loving man. He needed to express his love to everyone around him or he would physically explode (Okay, not really, but he swore that's what it felt like to him). He had a loving family to tend to by taking care of them financially and spending every waking minute away from work with. He had his thirteen best friends to shower with playful affection during and out of work. He had his 97-liners to play around with in between work schedules. What he did not have, however, was that one person who was his and only his. Someone to give the type of love that you reserve for only that one special person in your life.
Mingyu found himself seeking this person out since the beginning of time. Many would call Mingyu a womanizer or a player due to the high volume of relationships he had been involved in during his life. It wasn't like that, however. Not at all. Mingyu would date a girl he liked, would be happy with her, but would ultimately realize that the spark he was looking for was not there, causing him to regrettably end the relationship. He was often met with curses directed his way, but he felt it was best to try and end it amicably if he did not see a future there.
His most recent relationship had been with a former staff member. She was funny and sweet, and also pretty easy on the eyes. They got along very well when she first got assigned to Mingyu as part of his personal team. It started as a friendship, but it didn't take long for Mingyu's hopeless romantic tendencies to seek her out in a romantic way, something to which she obviously agreed to immediately. Mingyu had no issue getting women on his side. He had never dealt with rejection all his life. Being handsome, talented, funny, and even rich from a young age, it was rare to be met with anything but enthusiastic responses left and right. The relationship did not end amicably, however. Mingyu should've known better than to date someone who technically worked for him. I mean, he had been through this before (with one stylist, one MNET staff member, and a former Pledis recruiter to be specific), so he should've known by now that mixing business with pleasure was a bad idea. But his romantic tendencies couldn't be helped. He had too much love to give, and no one to give it to.
#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x reader#svt fanfic#seventeen#svt#svt x reader#seventeen imagine#seventeen oneshot#seventeen smut#svt smut#mingyu fanfic#mingyu x reader#mingyu imagines#mingyu scenario#mingyu smut
897 notes
·
View notes
Text
At the Restaurant
Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader
Summary: It’s three days til Christmas, and you’ve never known want like this, and his eyes are glossy with emotion and everything he won’t ever let himself tell you or anyone else, and you so badly want to tell him that it’s only that it’s hard to be casual when your favorite bra lives in his dresser, and also that you’re in love with him.
-OR-
the Christmas situationship AU
Rating: Explicit 18+
Content Warnings: Modern AU; Christmas fic; Angst; Fluff; Miscommunication; Emotionally unavailable idiots; But also idiots in love; Toxic relaationships; Situationship; There is nothing well adjusted about any of this pls don’t come into this house if that’s what you’re looking for; Trigger warning for man with an avoidant attachment style; Condolences to all my fellow victims of The Situationship; Size Difference; Unprotected Sex; Creampie; Oral Sex (F!Receiving); Frankly some pretty pathetic behavior; Girl stand UP; Fuckboy Din; Plan B and Delusion as a form of birth control; Pull and pray baby pull and pray; Possessive Behavior; Jealousy; Insecurity; Trigger warning for Right Where You Left Me by Taylor Swift references
A/N: Hello and welcome to my contribution to the holiday fic pool! This is not at all what I was planning as my holiday piece, but I woke up a few mornings ago and was just completely taken hold by this. Much love and thanks and gratitude and all the kisses in the world to my friend @f0rlornmyths for all the help on the idea and brainstorming and for the gorgeous edits she made for this little story. Mai baby, this is all for you, and I know it's not the Christmas gift I promised you, but I swear, one day that too will get written.
I’m wishing you all the happiest and most relaxing of holiday seasons. I think of you all constantly and wish you all the best always, and I hope you’re taking care of yourselves during this time ❣️🎄✨
Word Count: 8.2K
Read on AO3
He gets this sparkle in his eyes when the bar’s extra busy, cheeks flushed and curls damp with sweat and this shine that speaks; that tells of all the things he does that make a woman belong to him whenever he’s giving her his singular attention. Eyes that laugh and crinkle at the edges with happiness. Eyes that tell you how much he does or does not want you at that specific moment. And he’ll laugh and blind the room into seduction under the Christmas lights, and then he’ll turn, suddenly remembering you’re here for him, and look at you all serious-like, while you sip on your tequila soda, with two limes always because he knows that’s how you like it, and it’ll be a serious, cool look for just a second before it blooms into the best smile anyone’s surely ever had in all history, and you love him.
It’s three days til Christmas, and you’ve never known want like this. You’ve never practiced restraint of this kind either. A restraint that suffocates and kills and could probably be taken as a form of self harm were you in a righter, more clear mind, but it’s the only thing you have left against him. Din. A control over yourself that falsely feeds you the illusion of power. You never call him. Never. Any interaction, any late night fuck, any time he comes over and comes inside you, it’s always, always because he calls you, he looks for you. You never beg, not with words at least, and you never text first and you never ask him if you can see him, and it’s the only way you tell yourself you maintain even a semblance of control. And at night, when you’re alone and it’s dark and you’ve only got the cat for some sad company, or you’re crying in bed because he hasn’t called, and you know he’s not at work and he’s obviously not at home, so he’s somewhere you don’t want him to be, that false sense of control that says you’re never the one reaching out, it’s always him coming around so surely that must mean something… it’s all you have at the end of it.
He’s not your boyfriend. He never has been. And there’s always been that excuse you use to soothe yourself with of, well, we’ve never really talked about it, and he’s not really my boyfriend, so it doesn’t really matter. Does it? Doesn’t it? You’re sure you don’t know anymore. And you tell yourself, lie to yourself, comfort yourself, whatever it is your tired heart needs in that moment, because it truly is so tired, the push and pull is the most exhausting game in the world, that if he’s coming to you it’s because Din’s choosing you. Even if just for a night, even if just for now, even if tomorrow he’ll be with someone else, he chose you for tonight, and so surely that must mean something. It’s the worst thing you do to yourself, but it feels so good in the moment. You just can’t help yourself.
“Another one?” He calls over his shoulder with a smile.
You’d had a little bit of a… well, you don’t really know what to call it. A falling out, perhaps, because the two of you never have fights. You never fight, you never discuss the things the two of you should discuss, like feelings or anger or resentment or boundaries and wants and needs. Nothing. Nothing that indicates anything that might define what it is the two of you’ve been doing for two years with each other now. Fights are something couples do, and you two are not a couple. But up until three days ago, you’d not heard from him for two weeks. Two weeks of nothing, of hearing from your friends that they’d seen him out with his friends and other girls who you know probably mean nothing, even less than you do, but still. It’d made you insane. A little bit irrational, and so when you and your friends had gone out over the weekend, picked up a group of guys at the new bar you’d chosen for the night, since Din’s bar was off limits at the moment, and brought them back to your apartment at your roommate, Bo’s, insistence, well, you’d thought you’d give him a taste of his own medicine. After a slightly tipsy, teary eyed rant, explaining to your new friend for the night, a one Toro Calican, who had a very nice smile and very pretty eyes and not at all bad arms, all about your terrible situation with this man who you were not really in a relationship with, but who you have sex with, and only with him, regularly, unprotected, enthusiastically, but who is still not your boyfriend and not even anything close, he’d arranged himself very nice and cozy-looking in your bed with your twinkly lights sparkling in the background and your pink pig stuffy which Din loved to make fun of you for, and you’d taken a very tasteful, in your opinion, picture of him for your Instagram story. Again, a taste of his own medicine.
Din had been at your front door forty five minutes later, angry. Angrier than you’d ever seen him before, and not at all trying to hide it. Pushing past you and into your apartment all tall and broad and wearing your favorite dark blue hoodie he knows you love, curls mused as if he’d been pulling his fingers through them in agitation. There’d been a sneaky, smarmy little devil inside of you doing a happy dance at that moment, and his eyes when he’d turned to glare at you after giving poor, Toro – casual, entirely unbothered, Toro with his big smile stretched across his handsome face as he’d looped an arm over Bo’s shoulders where he’d been sitting beside her on the couch – a look that said Din had half a mind to take him outside and wipe the floor with him. But your new friend had laughed him off, taking Din’s terribly cocky onceover, the sort he liked to set people down with, in stride. All arrogance and the sort of self assuredness only a man who knew what he was made of and how to take care of himself could possess. He was too hot for his, or your, own good.
And when he’d turned and pushed you into your bedroom, a little tipsy, a lot desperate and pleased and wet, because yes, finally you were getting exactly what you wanted, exactly as you’d asked for it, and he’d flipped your skirt up and ripped your panties down and buried his face in your cunt from behind, all: this pussy’s mine, what the fuck was another dude doing in your bedroom? You’d been nothing but pleased giggles and hiccupy little moans as you’d come on his tongue just as he’d demanded of you.
It was wrong. The two of you were wrong and maybe even bad for each other, but also, and this was only your own personal, fanciful discernment, addicted. A mutual addiction. The way he fucked you, hard and deep and possessive, like you belonged to him. Tugging you up by the hips and pulling you back onto his hard cock, the wet slap of your pussy dripping for him so that it surely echoed through the thin door of your shitty little apartment for the man who’d threatened what Din saw as rightfully his could hear exactly what was happening in here. You should have cared more about this ridiculous display of a pissing contest. You should have been bothered by it. You absolutely were not. And when he’d gone harder than stone, shoved deeper than you could comfortably take him so that you were coming around his cock one last time from the stretch and sting of it, and he’d filled you to leaking without even asking, you’d not even blinked at it, had been nothing but contented sighs.
It was all wrong, wrong, wrong.
Even worse, you’d never been on birth control. It made you sick, tired, moody, and the two of you worked around it… sometimes… kind of. Condoms when you remembered, usually ripped off mid fuck, pulling out… also sometimes. Never very responsible or dedicated to the practice of safe sex and level headedness, more focused on how fucking good it always felt when he was inside of you like this all bare and wet and hot and his. And if he fucked other girls, well, you tried not to think about that. Got tested, told yourself you were the only one he didn’t use protection with because you were special when they were not. And if there was, that last horribly misguided whisper that said, well, if he’s taking this risk with you, then obviously that means something too, right? Then so be it.
Again, like you’d said, bad for each other.
But he always gave you so many reasons to be stupid, delusional, like the way he’d kissed you before he’d gone the morning after, while you were still sleepy and warm and a little sweaty from where you’d been pressed together so close through the night, wet and sticky between your legs from his come. He’d wrapped his arms around you and pressed you so, so close to his chest, nipples bare and tight against hard muscle and wispy hair. The musky sleep smell of him as he’d started at your shoulder, mouth slow and damp, kissed and nibbled his way up your collarbone, your throat, your jaw, settled at your ear to taste that soft place behind, pressed his tongue there to feel the echo of your pulse moving through your whole body, the flutter of his long lashes against your skin because he’s just that close. Your toes had curled and spasmed, little and cold, bracing against his hairy shins and big feet, hard cock nestled between the warmth of your thighs. And he always makes the best sounds, you know, deep and rumbly and all man. Familiar sounds that you’re able to replay again and again in your mind afterwards when he’s gone, sounds that make it easy for you to pretend he’s yours because you know them so well, and you want to keep him so bad it makes your stomach hurt. Gotta go get the kid, he’d said, by way of explanation for why he wasn’t pushing up into your come soaked cunt and having you one more time again, but he’d stayed and kissed you. And when he’d finally found his way to your mouth, sipping on you, tasting behind your teeth, along the wet of your tongue, that was all that really mattered anyway.
Sometimes, he kisses you like he loves you, and it makes you hate him.
He hadn’t called in the three days since then, but he’d been kind enough to DoorDash you a Plan B and a bag of your favorite Dove dark chocolate bites, and you want to hate him and maybe even run him over with you car, you really do, but then tonight, out of nowhere while you’d been at home telling yourself you weren’t going to cry, tired and sweaty from lying under your duvet for too long, fingers slippery between cunt and cotton, too many unsatisfying orgasms and a tear worthy film already chosen as your excuse for later, he’d sent a: come to the bar tonight, baby, I want to see you. And well, he’d come looking for you, right? He’d texted first. So really, this was all him wanting you and choosing you.
You need help, electroshock therapy, a lobotomy, anything. But you’d gotten your butt up and dressed, begged Bo to come out with you, and now here the two of you sit, good friend that she is, waiting for him to finally come over and say more than three stringed together words to you. Shaved, lotioned, perfumed, pathetic little ass sitting at the end of his bar in a too sticky, too uncomfortable stool waiting for him. Always waiting for him.
You shake your head no at him and his proffered next round. No you don’t want another fucking drink. What you want is his attention.
And the worst part is, probably the worst, for there are so many bad parts to this, is that you don’t truly think he’s a terrible person, Din. He’s just so… he’s just– you don’t know. Sad, busy, exhausted, selfish, overwhelmed, so many things. But not bad, not actually a bad person. You’re sure of it. And it might look so differently from the outside, like you’re nothing, like he uses you, and sure, in ways, he does. You’re not so stupid or naive to not see this for what it is, because if there is one thing that is crystal clear here, it’s that you’ve always known what this is and what it is not. But you also see him. You also know him, as hard as he’s tried to keep you at arms length, to not let you see, to not let you in, you’ve weaseled your way inside anyways, or, better said, and something you don’t let yourself dwell on too much for the things it makes your stupid brain and heart feel, he has never been very good at not letting you see him. Because despite all the truths of how this thing between the two of you is, or is not, there is also something, as small as it may be, that is real here.
So no, Din is not bad, or not all bad. And it’s easy to call them excuses, but you’re not so sure that’s the only thing they are, the ways in which you justify his behavior or yours. Because there is also context to him, and his life, and the things that drag his attention away from you when you so desperately need and want it, why you know he won’t commit to one single thing because he knows how easily lost a good thing can be.
You take a pull from your straw, paper, and it’s already coming apart in wet flakes on your tongue because this dumb bar he works at pretends to be swanky, and paper straws are obviously a signifier that it’s not the cheap, shitty dump it actually is. Mean, but you’re in a bad mood tonight. Peli, the owner, had him string up multicolored lights and decorations everywhere for the holiday season, and it sort of looks like Santa threw up in here, but it’s also nice. Cozy or comfortable or welcoming, something happy and cheerful about the crowd surrounded by the sparkle of the holiday and loose from the heavily poured liquor. Or maybe it’s just that you know he put up the decorations. That he’d been good and patient and helpful as the older woman, eccentric and curly haired and a little stern and potty mouthed as she is, but always kind to him, had directed him as she pleased. Giving orders so that the bar could look as lovely and warm and cheerful as it does now. He always looks at her with such care and warmth, and you alway see it, as much as he tries to hide it.
He’d added a splash of sweet grenadine and a maraschino cherry into your drink tonight, and called it your slutty Shirley Temple, said you looked like you needed something sweet followed by one of those cocky little winks he thinks make him look hot, they do, but you tell him only make him look like an asshole. All of which you know is only his way of telling you, without actually telling you, that he’s going to be shoving his cock down your throat later tonight. Something sweet… yeah, sure. There’s nothing sweet about him.
He always tells you so many things neither of you want the other to know with his eyes. The stupid things, the silly things, the real things, it doesn’t really matter. He can’t ever help it.
The first time he’d told you about his parents, you’d thought: this is it, this is something real. The come down had been a singular type of devastating you don't think you’d recovered from to this day. They’d died in a home invasion, a robbery gone terribly, terribly wrong, when he’d been two months shy of eighteen; left him with too much responsibility and too much grief for a boy of seventeen to bear, to ever be able to grow into without growing a little bit skewed in the process. When he’d introduced you to his little brother, the first time, you’d been better prepared, better in control of yourself and your expectations. But still, still you’d let a small, small part of you let it mean something. Grogu, Greg, but they used to watch this cartoon together about this man, a warrior, a space cowboy of sorts, who finds a little green baby, more frog looking than baby looking, called Grogu and takes him in as his own, bringing him along on all his adventures through the big, wide galaxy. They’d always joked that Greg looked like the frog baby, and so, Grogu.
The first time he’d asked you to come over, you’d forced yourself to not throw up as you’d seen the text come in, had to force away thoughts of this has to mean something, please, please, let this mean something more. And the kid had been asleep already anyways when he’d smuggled you inside, quick and quiet, locking the door to his bedroom behind you, messy and lived in and Din, Din, Din everywhere, pressed you into his rumpled mattress, and fucked you til you’d cried and bit your tongue until you’d tasted blood to keep in all the things you had inside to tell him. And in the morning, when he’d made you a cup of coffee and oh, isn’t he nice for that? The kid had stumbled out of his bedroom, dinosaur pj’s and sleep rumpled curls the same warm mahogany shade as his older brother’s turned pseudo father, and he’d had his waffles while you’d sat there between the two of them as Din’d clucked around making lunches, sipping from your mug trying as best you could to be a good girl and not whip around and scream at the man that this has to mean something more, please.
The kid had eyed you skeptically, as if you’d had two heads, little fuzzy brow cocked high up towards his curl covered hairline while he chomped loudly on his waffles. More syrup than bread, but who were you to judge?
“Are you Din’s girlfriend?”
And rather than drop dead on the spot or bear the devastation of hearing the refusal come out of his older brother’s mouth, the second you’d seen Din’s own eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline, mouth falling open to probably tell him no, absolutely not, she’s nothing even close to being my girlfriend, you’d said as easy as you could manage, “No, we’re just friends.” Even added in a fake, tepid smile as you’d said the words. And now, as time’s passed since then, when you think back on the memory, you tell yourself that you’d imagined the frown and scowl that’d pulled Din’s face down into something that looked a little like annoyance or anger or confusion. He’d never done anything to make you think you were anything otherwise, and so what good did it do to dwell on the maybe false memory of his look of disappointment at your words? None at all, surely.
But you’re pretty sure you’re the only girl that’s ever been let into their space like that.
He’s at the other end of the bar now, engrossed in a conversation with someone who’s too sparkly and too pretty and too blonde to be anything but trouble for you. His tall, deceptively lanky form that you know beneath the dark baggy, long sleeved tee he’s wearing is strong and muscled and warm as a furnace, curved over the lip of the bar to lean further towards her. They’ve been talking for about five minutes now, yes, you’ve been counting, and your heart is doing that horrible thing it does where it hurts so bad it feels like it’s ripping in half all on its own. You want to look away, especially as you watch the long, gorgeous form of his hand, big, strong hands that you know exactly what they feel like wrapped around your throat, clutching your breasts, lift slowly towards the glowing Christmas lights necklace the girl’s got hanging around her neck, the cheery red and green lights nestled deep in her cleavage. He plucks at the necklace, giving it a little tug and says something to her that has her throwing her head back, and she sparkles, she really does, with those sort of laughs that tinkle like bells or something equally fucking ridiculous.
“We should just go, babe,” Bo says from beside you, glaring down at him so intensely you’re shocked he hasn’t keeled over dead at this point.
“Just a little bit longer, Bo, please.”
“God, I can’t watch this shit anymore.” She pushes up and out of her stool with a roll of her eyes, but passes a loving hand down the back of your hair as she goes. “I’m gonna go try and pick up that red head sitting in the back. She’s been eyeing me all night,” she smirks at you.
“You cannot date another ginger. That is too much ginger for one household.”
“Oh, shut up. You’re in love with the devil, I can do whatever I want. And I can’t watch him anymore, I don’t have the stomach for it.”
You try and protest as she walks away from you, tell her that you’re not in love with him, that he’s not the devil, that you don’t have the stomach for it either, but she’s gone before you can muster your lies. When you turn back towards the bar he’s abandoned his Christmas lights blonde and is pouring drinks for a group of frat guys, checking I.D.s and making easy, charming conversation. He’s strange in that way, quiet and reserved by nature, which you know now because you know him, but he puts on a face in here, in Peli’s bar in front of the customers and the pretty girls and the people expecting him to perform for them, making nice and pleasant. It’s just one more thing that feeds your delusion, the fact that you see his smile for what it is, the too handsome, too shiny version you know isn’t the real one.
You know that despite the fact that Bo loves you, she also thinks you’re a little sad, a lot weak, when it comes to him. Maybe even, and you know she’d never say this because she’s a good and loving friend, but maybe even a little pathetic or desperate. And maybe you are, or definitely, you don’t really care about the details of it at this point, but maybe there’s also something about him that’s slightly desperate too. Desperate for love or attention or companionship. Maybe that’s why he always feels the need to search for it in so many different places. Maybe he wants it so bad he’s scared of it. Or maybe he’s just easy. Maybe he’s just a whore.
You don’t know if the why’s of it all really matter anymore.
He serves the group their shots and beers, all of them clinking their glasses together loudly, hooting and wishing each other a Merry Christmas, and you want to snap that it’s not Christmas yet, it’s still the twenty third, it’s a special day that should be remembered, but you turn away. Try to swallow the heat in your face and throat, take deep breaths. Bo’s right, the two of you should go, but when you turn to search for her, she’s deep in conversation with the red head, gorgeous, strong and tall and just her type. Their two heads huddled closely together beneath the red lights that turn their hair both brighter shades of auburn. And you know you can’t interrupt. At least one of you should have a good night tonight. But when you turn back around, ready to join the frat bros in on their shots, he’s there.
You swivel in your stool, catching yourself on the lip of the bar, digging your nails into the wood grain until it hurts, staring at him in silence.
“What?” he asks with that slightly provoking smile he forces on you when he knows you’re bothered and refuse to open your stubborn mouth and just speak up.
“Nothing.” Stubborn, sullen. Terrible.
He hums, laughter dancing in his eyes that pisses you off. He knows you’re bothered, knows you won’t say anything about it either. “Want another?”
“Sure.” You might as well get drunk if you’re going to have to watch him be a jackass all night long.
He starts to move about, gathering the things for your cocktail. “You like the grenadine I added?”
“Yeah, it’s good.”
He looks at you with a half smile and a cocked brow as he measures the shot. He never makes your drinks as heavy handed as the others, says you’re a bad drunk. Whatever. “Yeah? You like the Christmas decorations?”
“They’re nice.” He hums again at your sullen tone. And you want to be nicer, happier, peppier, whatever it is that would be enough to make this all right and better between the two of you, inside of you, but you just can’t. You can’t force yourself into a shape that’s okay with being without him, and it’s getting harder and harder to pretend it’s something you’re capable of.
He adds your two limes and tops the drink off with a Santa printed mini umbrella Peli had gotten an order of in bulk, pushing the glass into your hand. He braces his hands against the bar edge, watching you as you bring the drink up to taste, peering over the edge to keep your eyes on him. The lights twinkle over head, washing him in a glow of greens and reds and warmth, and his eyes do that terrible sparkle you hate in return.
Sometimes you think he likes it when you’re pissy. Turns him on or something which sickly, stupidly, in turn, riles you up, knowing he’s turned on by your anger.
You take a long pull of the fizzy, mildly sweet drink, licking your lips of the tang and bubbles when you pull it away, and watch as his eyes go a little hazy, glassed over as he watches the wet of your tongue peek out to lick up the drops of sweet liquor. You watch a swallow pass through the strong column of his throat, and his gaze is still on your mouth when he cocks his head at you. “C’mere,” he murmurs, eyes shifting to take in the crowd, the customers and the status of their drinks before he’s tugging at your hand over the bar, drawing you out of your seat and along the length of it from the other side.
“To where?” You whisper at him, nerves of excitement, of want, fluttering in your belly and throat all fizzy and sweet. He tips his chin at the cracked open door of the stock room, the warm glow from within peering out, and then back again once over at the crowd before you’re at the end of the bar, and he’s tugging you inside after him. You tip your chin over your shoulder just before he kicks the door shut behind you, taking in Peli’s knowing look and the laughing shake of her head, and then it’s just the two of you. Hungry and hurried as he’s pulling you into himself, big hands immediately cupping your ass to tug you up into him with a cracked groan. “Want to fucking kiss you so bad,” he licks into your mouth, tasting like the coffee he drinks too much of and the cinnamon gum you know he’s always chewing.
“Din–” and you’re about to protest, say that everyone’ll have seen the two of you come in here, Peli, the blonde Christmas light girl, that the whole bar is going to think he brought you in here for a quick fuck, but you and he both know you don’t really care if anyone thinks that. That probably, if you’re really honest, you’d be glad for everyone to think you’re his that way. So you kiss him back. Arms looping around his neck to hang off of him, fingers twining in the thick curls at the nape of his neck, the hair there so silky smooth, cool at the ends but warm and damp at the roots. And this is what you were talking about, when he kisses you like he loves you which makes you hate him. All tongue and teeth and desperation. His mouth sliding against yours, spit slick and heat heavy. Big hands kneading at your ass, clutching at the short skirt of your dress, pulling it up so he can shove his palm between the nylon of your tights and your warm skin and cup you over the wet mound of your cunt.
“Fucking warm and soft for me, baby.” He kisses his way down your neck, licking at your cleavage, tugging at your ear. “You smell so good,” and he squeezes you against himself, dragging his palm back and forth over your pussy as best as the constricting tights let him. “I can’t wait to fuck you later.”
“Me either, Din,” you say because there’s nothing else to say besides, I love you. Please, love me back. He groans into your mouth, pressing you back into a little arc hooked over his arm, something frenzied and a little sloppy about the way he kisses you like he wants you so much he can’t control himself. And when the two of you stumble out a few minutes later, hair tousled and flushed with heat, the shine of your lipgloss transferred onto his own lips and those sparkly eyes of his cranked up to blinding so that the whole bar can see what it is the two of you have been up to in the stock room, there’s nothing but sweet, fizzy pleasure suffusing your belly. Even if it isn’t real, everyone else thinks it is, maybe for tonight that can be enough.
-
“The tree’s really cute,” you say as he helps you out of your coat, unwrapping the scarf from around your neck, round and round until he lets it slither from his hand onto the messy floor of his bedroom.
“Yeah, well, G wanted a real one so… my ass went out and got him a real one.”
You reach up to card your fingers through the floppy curls falling over his forehead, pushing them back to twist in your fingers and pull his head down towards yours. “Good brother,” you murmur against his mouth. You want to ask him if he remembers what tonight is; wanted to ask him all night but kept your mouth shut for fear of that utterly vacant look in his eyes when he’d have no idea what you were talking about.
He settles into your kiss, knees bent to come down to your level, sighing deep and long as he licks at you slowly, sucks on your bottom lips, a gentle nip. “Looked so pretty for me tonight,” he says, and he’s such a good kisser, and all you can say is a breathless thank you, trying to swallow the immediate lump in your throat back down because the only other thing to say would be you’re right, it’s all for you, or I hate it when you say these things to me, I hate it when you’re nice to me and then turn around and act like I’m a stranger, like I’ve never meant anything to you at all. You press up higher, insistent, on your tiptoes, trying to get closer, more of him. He runs his hands up the length of your spine, one arm banding around your waist, the other coming up to twist in your hair, tugging your head back sharply and pulling your mouth from his.
“What do you want, sweet girl?”
And what a cruel, terrible question. You, is what you should say. Ruin the moment or the false magic, glass shattered on the white cloth. And so, “Fuck me,” is all you say instead because that’s all this is anyway. He peers down at you, fathomless look on his face, no more bright sparkle in his eyes, something more like an ember. You think you like this look better, it’s more for you, and there's something satisfying about that.
“Okay, baby. Whatever you want.”
He pulls your clothes from you slowly, and he can be so tender sometimes, slow and precise in the things he does, the way he moves. Sometimes he fucks you hard and fast and sloppy. But not always. Other times he does it in a way that is much, much worse. Slow and deep and intentional. He lays you out across his messy bed and spreads you open for himself. Starts at your feet, kissing the soles and the creases and marks over the arches and around your ankles from your tights and boots. Up the slope of your calf, teeth dragging sharply, a little too hard over the muscle. He kisses the backs of your knees, a place only he has ever thought to kiss, and you won’t cry, but you’d like to. His tongue along the soft of your thighs, stubble chafing and tickling, and when he finally gets to your cunt, soaking wet, glossy with your slick for him, his tongue drags up your slit slow and teasing one second, deep, fucking inside of you the next. He makes you come on his face twice before he even thinks of being nice and letting up. Sucking on your clit, taking each soft lip gentle, gentle between the edge of his teeth and tugging so soft you almost don’t feel it. He licks and licks and slurps up your wet, and you know he enjoys this because of his own sounds. When he rips his t-shirt over his head because he’s steaming with sweat and want, the zip of his jeans ringing so that he can get his fist around his cock and jack himself while he licks up the splash of your second orgasm.
He kisses you everywhere when he’s had his fill, twists and turns you this way and that, groping and kneading and taking every inch of you in so that no spot of skin is left uninspected or untasted. Pulls you up and under his arm so he can peer down at you from behind, lemme look at that little asshole now, he says all nasty the way he gets sometimes, and spreads your cheeks apart. You brace yourself against the column of his throat and hold on to the bulge of his bicep and try and breathe through your mouth and pray for control and temperance and the will to not spill all your truths to him. Difficult, when he manhandles you like this, when he pets and licks and kisses you all over and tells you how pretty all your holes are for him.
His cock is so hard when he finally settles on his knees between your spread thighs, on your back again so that you can see his pulse in the tiny, subtle beat of his erection as it stands up, curving towards his flat belly. No condom, and you want to say thank you for letting you feel him like this.
He pushes your knees wide and grips his cock, twisting his fist around the sticky glossed head, flushed red almost purple. You love it when he’s this hard, when you know it’s all for you, when you know you’re the only one in this moment that can fix it for him.
“Get it wet for me,” he nods his head at your slick cunt, parted and bared to him just like he likes. You dip your fingers into the well of wetness, play in it, watch the shiny string of slick stretch between your pussy and fingers, and no one makes you as wet or as desperate as he does, and like he can read your mind he tells you, no one makes me as hard as you do, and you do not tell him that that isn’t something you want to hear, that that isn’t something that makes you feel good. The reminder that there are others.
You wrap your slippery fingers around his cock, coating him in yourself and when you pull him towards you, notching him at the mouth of your cunt, and finally – finally, I’ve been waiting for this all night, and you can’t even tell who says it – it’s so fucking good that all the rest of it is worth it for this singular feeling right here.
He pushes in, in, in, heavy balls pressed against the wet curve of your bottom, and you’re so soaked it’s slid down between your ass, marked his sheets with you, swings his hips back all smooth and wet and shoves back inside. His mouth is at your tits, folded over you, caging you in, biting and sucking on bare, tight nipples he tells you belong to him, cunt he fucks hard and deep he tells you also belongs to him.
He pulls an ankle up over his shoulder, changes the angle and drills into you hard and fast, other knee hooked over his elbow so you’re pressed and folded and presented to him just how he likes and needs, and he makes you say his name over and over, tells you exactly how he wants you to come on his cock just for him. His pelvis bumps your clit on every push forward, too thick cock wedged inside your cunt so that you’re stretched around him and no matter how many times you do this, it always hurts just a little. Like everything else the two of you do together.
“You feel so fucking good,” he groans. “You take it so fucking good. Don’t come yet– don’t come. With me– wait for me. I want it together.” And you do cry at that, when he changes the angle once more and shoves in hard against your g-spot, the fat tip of his cock punching against it over and over so that there’s heat pooling at the base of your spine, stars flashing behind your closed lids, your breasts going hot and heavy and tight, stomach clenching with the effort to stave off your orgasm and do as he asks. He breathes into your mouth, and it’s all hot and damp skin and your sweaty limbs sliding against each other, open mouth to open mouth.
“Now,” he says, pulls you onto him deeper with a tight grip on your ass, long fingers wrapped over the curve so that he can feel the wet, stretched place where he takes you, makes you his. “Take the whole fucking thing,” he whispers against your lips, and as your cunt goes tight as a knot, painful in that way that only he can make it, that’s so good, that way that always keeps you coming back for more, you finally start to cry real tears. Not just from his cock but from the whole of him, from everything he does to you. Your heart beats fast, fast, fast, and you count the days in the month til your period, the little game you like to play with yourself when the two of you are bad like this, and then decide you don’t really give a fuck as he starts to fill you with the heat of his come.
He stays inside of you for too long after the last throb of his cock. Rubbing his lips all over your neck and shoulders and tits, tasting you and giving you too much time to memorize the pattern and cadence of his breathing. And when he pulls out and pulls back to look at the slick, puffy sight of your cunt full of his come, he bends to lick you clean like he always does. Gives you one more orgasm, the last nail in the coffin or your heart.
Sated and spent, you glance at the clock, and it’s officially Christmas Eve. You know he goes all out for Grogu, milk and cookies for Santa, stockings and gifts, the works. He is an exceptionally good brother, all a child could need in a father figure, and there had never really been any chance of you doing anything else besides loving him.
When you pull the gift from your bag, heart in your throat and halfway to regret but more resolve than you’ve ever had in his presence, you tell yourself that if this brings on the end of everything, that you’ll find a way to be okay with it. If you’ve gone too far, done too much, you’ll accept it, count your losses, and what great losses they’ll surely be, but you’ll move on as best you can.
You’d picked some pretty, baby blue paper with little red robins on it, a soft gold ribbon tied around the package. The sight of it makes you want to cry. You’d tried so hard, you really had.
He’s quiet when you put it into his hands, staring down at it like it’ll reach out and bite his head off if he blinks even once. Swallowing several times before he says, “You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“I know. It’s– it’s for the both of you, kind of.” Him and his little brother.
“I didn’t get you anything.”
“No– that’s okay. I know. You didn’t have to.” Your voice comes out all breathless and full of nerves. You should’ve put your clothes on before you did this, made for a quicker, easier get away if necessary.
He pulls the wrapping apart slowly, gently untying your ribbon, long fingers carefully picking at the little pieces of tape at each end so that he doesn’t tear the paper and disturb the robins.
“Where did you get this?” He says when he’s finally unwrapped it, his voice telling you instantly that you’ve made a terrible mistake.
“It– it was in your drawer. I–”
“You went through my stuff?” He says, eyes snapping up to yours, finally looking away from the photograph you’d copied and framed for him. A picture of him and Grogu and his parents. Grogu, a baby, Din, a boy of maybe eight, gap toothed, cheesy grin and messy curls between his smiling parents. They looked, very much, like a deliriously happy family, and you’d thought it such a shame it was stuffed in his sock drawer when you’d found it, left to be forgotten. You’d only wanted to do something nice for him.
“N–no. I mean… not intentionally. I was looking for my extra clothes – the ones you told me to leave here – and I–” your lashes flutter, overwhelmed. He suddenly looks so angry. “I saw it in your drawer. I didn’t mean– I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry, I–” You don’t know what to say. All of your falsely held control in tatters at your feet and tears in your eyes as you take in the horrible look on his face. Shocked, angry, hurt, but his gaze leaves the photograph again, shifts back to your face at the crack in your voice.
He presses forward, as if to reach for you, realizing you’re about to cry. “It’s fine.” I’m sorry, Din, you murmur again. “It’s just–” He shakes his head, a frustrated noise in his throat, his voice all graveled and cracked like yours. He seems so much like a boy in this moment. A child confronted by a past he was too young to lose when he did, forced into the shape of a man too soon. “You know that this–we–” He motions between the two of you.
“Yes. I do,” you cut him off quickly. Assuming what he’s going to cut down here between the two of you before he gets the words out. He doesn’t need to say it, not out loud. He doesn’t need to be that cruel. The strength it takes the both of you to bite your tongues in that moment, as you take each other in, swells to a near painful pressure, and there is something so sick here between the two of you. His eyes are glossy with emotion and everything he won’t ever let himself tell you or anyone else, and you so badly want to tell him that it’s only that it’s hard to be casual when your favorite bra lives in his dresser, and also that you’re in love with him.
“Thank you,” he finally says quietly, and you can’t answer, looking away out at the dark night through his murky paneled window. It looks like it’s about to snow, all the ingredients for a perfect Christmas at play. The room is so warm and his bed is so comfortable, and you feel so full of fragile and soft things inside. “You’re going to see your family tomorrow?” He still has the picture frame in his hands, fingers smoothing methodically over the edges, thumb swiping gently over the happy faces inside.
You clear your throat, “Yeah, tonight. I’m going to my parents house, spending the night there.” And it’s on the tip of your tongue to invite the both of them to come too. You know your parents would love to have them, you would love to have them there, him, but the words stick in your throat with the fear of his rejection, and the two of you fizzle awkwardly into a heavy silence.
You look out at the window again, too much of a coward to look into those bright eyes, but you can feel his gaze on you, singing the side of your face, and suddenly you feel him scoot over towards you. Deep sigh, dragging the duvet with him, wrapped around his bare shoulders all messy hair and flushed cheeks still steaming from your sex. No one should look like he does. No one. It’s the most unfair thing that’s ever happened to you in your whole life. He grips you around the bend of your bare knee, pulls you halfway into his lap, and your eyes are still fixated out on the night, the dark much safer than anything that lives inside this room.
“You remember when we met?” He says. The tears are back. “It was tonight.” Two years ago.
You tip your chin at the window. “At the restaurant…”
“...Down on eighty seventh street. Two years ago.”
“Yes.” You finally look at him. “I remember,” you whisper. Your mouth feels so dry, your heart so flinty.
“The place had all those string lights put up, and we sat at that table outside in the back behind that group having their Christmas work party. You remember?” Of course you do. You only can't believe he remembers. He’d been wearing an olive green half zip sweater, and he’d smelled of laundry detergent and whiskey and cinnamon gum when he’d kissed you for the first time.
“I had the best old fashioned I’ve ever had at that place. We should go back. And it was so cold, you remember? You never stopped shivering.”
“Yes, Din. I remember.”
“That was a good night.”
“Sure it was,” and it comes out with a bite you can’t help, for so many reasons you can and cannot explain.
He gives one of those non committal hums he loves to provoke you with, that little glint back in his eyes. “Sure it was? What?”
“Nothing.”
“Is there something you wanna talk about?” The white elephant in the room, come to ruin everything, shatter all the glass, disturb the dust in your hair and break your heart.
He tips your head back by your chin, two fingers holding you there, never letting you go. You shake your head at him caught up in his grasp like that. “No. I don’t want to talk about anything.”
And he gives you the strangest look, and for one second you wonder suddenly if that look you’ve always taken as provoking is not so much teasing, but more pleading, more knowing. “No…” he says, chews on his thoughts, strong, scruffy jaw with the heart shaped patch moving side to side. “I know you don’t,” and leans forward to press one single soft, chaste kiss to your open mouth. “You know what you are?” He says then, and the look is now entirely unknowable, confusing.
Your eyes flick back to the window. “What?” Back to him again, breathless.
“You’re my girl.” And out of the corner of your eye, you can see that there, finally, is the Christmas snow.
Netherfeildren's Masterlist
Updates Blog!
#vic fic#din djarin fanfiction#din djarin AU#din djarin modern AU#the mandalorian AU#din djarin x reader#din djarin x female reader#din djarin smut#din djarin imagine#pedro pascal characters#din djarin angst
386 notes
·
View notes
Text
our secret moments - lhs (m)
"our secret moments in a crowded room / they got no idea about me and you // all of this silence and patience / pining and anticipation / my hands are shaking from holding back from you" - dress by taylor swift
series masterlist - part one - part two - part three
100 kisses masterlist - prompts 4 (breaking the kiss, your lover instantly pressing their lips back to yours), 26 (“i was supposed to take a shower, alone, but go ahead jump right in”) & 19 (“if we’re caught kissing we’re most likely dead but let’s risk it”)
pairing. best friend’s brother!heeseung x fem!reader
synopsis. After avoiding Heeseung for a week, Chaeyeong makes you talk things out with him. In the weeks that follow, the two of you sneak around at night, sharing secret kisses in the backseat of his car and getting to know each other on a deeper level. If you make sure to be careful, there's no reason it should go wrong, right?
genre. secret relationship au, fluff, smut (mdni!!), hint of angst at the end
word count. 24.2k 😂
a/n. after a thousand years she's finally out!! i'm really sorry for making you guys wait but i was struggling with writing motivation and as you can see she's a bajillion words long so it took me forever to finish it. at least my amazing beta reader bestie in charge @zreamy edited it in like twelve seconds which was super awesome of her oh also shout out to the anon who recommended dress by tswift for this part ur very smart!! ok will stop talking now hope u guys like it and as always pls lmk what u think!!
Heeseung is confused.
He’s always proudly considered himself someone who easily understands other people, who isn’t rattled by sudden shifts in moods and who can adjust to different situations and attitudes. He’s observant and likes trying to figure out what the people around him are thinking or feeling, going over all the possibilities and finding the right way to fix a situation. In that aspect, he’scompletely unlike his sister Seeun, who, always straightforward, prefers asking directly.
But Heeseung doesn’t see the fun in that.
His ability to understand others so well also allows the people around him to rely on him whenever they have concerns or troubles - they trust him to listen intently and provide solutions as best as he can. Even though he has few friends, he knows them inside out, and he’ll always choose that over having tons of friends he doesn’t really know.
This is where the confusing part starts for him. He likes to think of you as a friend - not a close friend like Sunghoon or Jay, but still a friend. You greet each other and even sometimes talk when you run into each other at school or at his place; you take the bus home together every once in a while; you remember each other’s birthdays; you even spent a few hours making a puzzle together once. Surely, that’s what friends do, Heeseung thinks. But to his great despair, understanding other people means he also understands himself well, and he can’t fool himself for that long.
He knows a friend wouldn’t make him feel the way you do. He can’t even blame it on your being a girl, because Chaeyoung, whom he basically sees just as often as you, or any of the girls in his classes that he sees on a daily basis, don’t make his palms sweat and his heart race like you do.
Admittedly, the truth would be closer to ‘my little sister’s best friend who I get even more nervous and awkward than usual around and gives me butterflies every time she so much as looks at me and is awfully pretty and smart and funny, which doesn’t help any of this.’
But ‘friend’ is easier.
So he sticks to it and forces himself to look you in the eye when you talk and to start conversations with you, like he does with all his other friends, hoping that someday, he will finally feel normal around you.
Sadly, that day doesn’t seem to come, and before he knows it, fall arrives and he’s whisked away to college. That’s where he meets Jake.
Jake was Heeseung’s roommate whom he had been terrified of as soon as he laid eyes on him, for Jake seemed to be the complete opposite of Heeseung and the exact type of guy he had hated in high school. The loud type, who sat at the back of the room and paid no attention to the teacher because he was too busy annoying girls or making fart noises with his armpit. The type who made fun of Heeseung’s glasses.
Heeseung was terrified of Jake for about five minutes (and with reason - the first thing Jake had said to him was “Cool glasses, bro”) until they started talking and he realized that he was doing the same major as him, shared a lot of his interests both academic and hobby-wise, and was basically just as much of a nerd as him; he simply hid it much better. Not that Heeseung wanted to hide it or even understood why he should.
One of Jake’s freshman-year goals was to get into a fraternity. But not just any - he had his eyes set on Sigma Sigma Pi because his brother was an alumnus and he had told Jake - in those exact words - that college life wasn’t worth living if you weren’t part of a fraternity. This meant that presence at the first party of the semester was mandatory. Heeseung had shivered at the word ‘party’, but Jake was so resolute that he decided to support his friend and come along, letting himself be convinced that even he might find some fun in it.
Three pints of cheap beer and five shots of tequila later, he concluded that maybe frat parties weren’t so bad after all. As soon as they’d seen him, a group of upperclassmen had taken his crooked glasses and lanky limbs as signs of social awkwardness and decided to help him loosen up by bringing him directly to the kitchen where all the good stuff was. Jake hadn’t expected that Heeseung would be the one to catch their eye, but he wasn’t going to complain about getting to party with the frat bros on his first night of college.
Heeseung, whose lips had never touched so much as a drop of alcohol, was wasted barely two hours into the party. Jake fared slightly better, but only because he knew better than to accept every drink that came his way. To this day, Heeseung finds himself unable to remember anything that happened after eleven p.m. that night, so imagine his surprise the next morning when he woke up half-naked in a stranger’s bed.
Heeseung, who had practically never had a female friend, let alone a girlfriend. Heeseung, who had never even been close to getting his first kiss, and whose dick only knew his right hand. Heeseung, who had had a singular crush his whole life, and had never been able to do anything about it. So imagine his surprise when said stranger turned out to be a girl - and a pretty one, at that - who was smiling down at him as he blinked his eyes open and asking him if he slept well.
She was sitting on the edge of her bed, close to Heeseung’s chest, which he rapidly covered with a blanket as soon as he realized it was bare. He was sleepy and confused, but more than that, he was hungover - his head was throbbing, his mouth was dry, and he felt like he might be sick any second. Obviously, Heeseung had never had a hangover before, nor had he ever woken up in a girl’s bed with no idea of how he got there, and the two new unexpected experiences made him unable to think or speak. He was just really confused. And really sleepy.
The girl slightly furrowed her eyebrows but laughed, seemingly amused by Heeseung’s behavior. “Are you okay?”
“I- um, yeah, I’m fine, but I, um…”
Heeseung winced at his own awkwardness, but he had no idea how to behave in such a situation. He also wasn’t sure how to tell this girl that he had no idea who she was or what he was doing with her.
She gave him a weird look but continued laughing. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting weird.”
This only confused Heeseung further, because he always acted like this. He looked away from her questioning eyes and found an interesting spot on the blanket for his eyes to focus on. “What, um, what happened last night? I think I had too much to drink…” he said, voice getting quieter the more he spoke.
This girl was apparently having a lot of fun, because his words only made her laugh more. “You can say that again. You were out.” Heeseung’s head whipped at that and his expression was so alarmed that she instantly tried to reassure him. “Don’t worry, you didn’t do anything too embarrassing.”
He still didn’t say anything and looked terrified out of his mind. “Do you not remember?” she asked, and he shook his head. “Anything?” He shook his head again.
She sighed. “Do you know my name?”
Heeseung looked down again, and she could feel his guilt in the third head-shake.
“Guess you really did drink a lot. I’m Yunjin,” she said, extending a hand out for him to shake.
He cleared his throat and took the girl’s hand. “H-Heeseung.”
Yunjin tilted her head at Heeseung as if trying to figure him out. “You know, you were really different last night. A completely different person.”
No matter how mortifying the thought of behaving inappropriately was to Heeseung, he preferred knowing what he did to staying in the dark. “What was I like?” he asked, sounding almost scared.
Yunjin took a second to think. “You were just really… confident,” she said, and Heeseung looked at her in total disbelief. “You talked to everyone, danced like crazy, flirted with me…” She paused for a second, then looked at Heeseung with a teasing smile. “You’re a really good kisser, you know.”
Heeseung’s eyes widened so much they could’ve popped out of their sockets. “Me?!” he exclaimed as if he’d just heard the most ridiculous thing ever. Yunjin just laughed and nodded.
“But right now, you’re like a beaten puppy or something. You act like I’m gonna punch you any second,” she joked, finally getting a chuckle out of Heeseung.
They talked for some more, and he relaxed enough to ask more questions. But maybe he shouldn’t have had, because his embarrassment reached its peak when Yunjin told him that she had taken him upstairs the previous night, not realizing how drunk he was because of how drunk she was, but that they hadn’t done anything more than kissing. He asked whether he’d fallen asleep as soon as his body hit the bed, so Yunjin, reluctantly, had to inform him that he “couldn’t get it up” - her words. That was why he’d woken up in just his underwear.
Luckily for him, their conversation was cut short when the rightful owner of the room kicked them out. He scrambled to put his clothes back on, and he and Yunjin ran into Jake in the hallway just as they exited the room.
“Heeseung! My man!” Jake exclaimed, circling his friend’s shoulders with his arm and ruffling his hair. The three of them decided to go get breakfast together in an attempt to fight off their hangovers, and a beautiful friendship ensued. Jake and Yunjin quickly figured out how fun it is to tease Heeseung for his awkwardness and nerd tendencies, but they were also really good friends.
It didn’t take long for them to find out about his long-standing crush on his sister’s best friend, and they immediately made it their mission to help Heeseung channel his alter ego so that he could finally make his move on you. He was reluctant at first, but after some time, he found that it was fun to party on the weekends, flirt shamelessly with strangers (and yes, sometimes make out with them) and hit the gym with Jake rather than stay holed up in his room and just study or game. They convinced him to get a haircut and some nicer clothes, and they even went to get their ears pierced together on a night when the alcohol made them feel like it was the greatest idea ever.
Of course, Jake and Heeseung were accepted in Sigma Sigma Pi, and Yunjin in the twin sorority. Heeseung developed this sort of odd reputation of being a player and a huge flirt but never actually taking a girl back to his room. Not to say no one tried - many girls heard about him and thought they would be the one to bag this boy that only seemed to get more handsome at every party, but no matter what they did or said, they were no match for you.
Even though he hadn’t seen you in months, you were still on his mind all the time. To say he missed you would be an understatement, and it was a weird feeling, considering you were barely friends. But he missed taking the bus with you and hearing you laugh, even if it was at him, even when you were teasing him. He missed getting a glimpse of you in the hallways or seeing your shoes at the entrance of his house when he came home from school. He daydreamed about those hours you had spent together working on a puzzle together more often than he’d like to admit.
He didn’t like the idea that some girls might think he was leading them on, but once he knew his flirting actually worked on people, he couldn’t wait to see you again and try his new tricks on you. He tried not to self-doubt too much, but he was scared that you wouldn’t like it - he wanted to get a positive reaction out of you, not make you want to run the other way.
So when he finally came home for the summer and started working his charm on you, he was immensely relieved to see you get shy and flustered around him. He finally understood why you’d always teased him - there was nothing like knowing your heart had skipped a beat because of him, much like his had because of you thousands of times before.
It’s hard to always keep his cool around you, however, and he also finds himself getting nervous once in a while. But the hope that you might like him back keeps him going, so he takes every opportunity he can to talk to you and, while he’s at it, call you pretty or smile at you (a smile he’s practiced many times in the mirror for maximum effectiveness). To his immense joy, it works every time - so when the party rolls around, he knows he has to make an actual move. It also helps that he’s invited his number one wingman to stay with him for a couple weeks, so that his confidence never wavers.
He thinks he’s hit the jackpot when the bottle lands on you and on him right afterwards. He thinks he’s reached heaven when he finally feels your lips on his, when he finally gets to have you close and touch your hair and hold your waist and have your hands on him. The seven minutes pass by in a flash, and heaven is ripped away from him by his own best friend when the closet doors open - but the worst part happens during the days that follow. Those are hell.
You do the one thing that he had hoped you wouldn’t - you run away from him. In one week, you don’t even say ten words to him, just greet him quickly and proceed to escape as far as you can. He notices the change in your behavior right away - how could he not? And so a thousand possibilities run through his mind, ranging from “the kiss was awful, and she hates my guts, and she never wants to see my face ever again” to “she’s just scared about the repercussions this could have if Seeun finds out.” None of his friends can calm him down or get him to think straight.
This whole ordeal makes him panic so much that he has fully gone off flirty mode - how could he flirt with you if he couldn’t even get you to talk to him? He had been sure he’d read into your reactions right, that you had feelings for him, and that he was right to make a move, but not anymore. Now, he was just confused.
--
Since that fateful party, you’ve unconsciously started seeing your life as pre-Heeseung incident and post-Heeseung incident.
Pre-Heeseung incident: it’s painful having such an intense one-sided crush, but at least you can keep it to yourself and not have to worry about Seeun’s reaction to you being in love with her brother. Sure, said brother’s constant flirting and general existence don’t make things easy for you, but it’s better to keep it a secret than to act on it.
Post-Heeseung incident: you have no idea what to do with yourself now that you know what it actually feels like to kiss and touch Heeseung, so you’ve resorted to avoiding him like the plague and pretending nothing has ever happened. It’s not fun either, and having to keep your inner turmoil to yourself is even harder than before, but you don’t want to risk your friendship with Heeseung over one kiss.
On the afternoon of day five, you’re going crazy reiterating the events of the party, so you decide to text the girls and ask them to come over. They both answer that they’ll be there in fifteen, but not even three minutes after you’ve sent the text, Chaeyeong appears at your bedroom door, face red and sweaty like she’s just run a marathon.
Since it’s Chaeyeong, you’re only mildly surprised to see her there, but you’re curious about her quick arrival nonetheless. “You’re already here?”
“Y/N, we need to talk,” she says with all the seriousness in the world. You’d be scared shitless if these words had come out of anyone else’s mouth, but knowing your best friend, she’s just exaggerating the gravity of whatever this is about.
Even though you try to match her earnestness, you can’t keep the amusement out of your voice when you answer, “Sure, go ahead.”
She catches onto your lack of seriousness right away. “You think this is funny?” she says in an almost threatening way. “I came early so we could talk about your little Heeseung problem without Seeun.”
That’s enough to shut you up for a few seconds as you look at her mouth agape, heat rising to your face. She takes your silence as a victory and crosses her arms over her chest, waiting for you to say something. “My little Heeseung problem?” you echo stupidly, and she nods. “I don’t have a little Heeseung problem.” You know that nothing about your tone or expression is convincing, but you still hope - in vain - that she’ll let you off the hook.
“No, you’re right, you have a big Heeseung problem. And it must be discussed.”
You roll your eyes as she takes a seat next to you on your bed. “You’re taking this way too seriously, you know.”
One thing about Chaeyeong is she’s never at a loss for words. It makes arguing with her exhausting because she’s always got something to bite back at you, no matter how much of a reach it is. So before the conversation even starts, you know she’s going to win it. You’re afraid of the truth she might shove into your face, but you figure it needs to be done at some point, so you let her.
“What’s serious is this crush you’ve been harboring on him all these years, and that now that something has finally happened and you might be going somewhere with him, you’re running the other way.”
You only hear the beginning of her sentence, too focused on the bomb she’s just dropped on you. “You-you knew?”
It’s her turn to eye-roll. “Only an idiot wouldn’t notice how much you like that boy, Y/N. Which means that Seeun is an idiot, by the way.”
The mention of your other best friend makes you wince slightly. It feels wrong to be going behind her back to talk about your crush on her big brother like this. “Yeah, I know,” Chaeyeong says as if reading your mind. “I’ve thought about it, and I honestly have no idea how she’ll react.”
You both look at your feet for a while, mulling over the different ways this could go down with Seeun. “It definitely doesn’t look good,” you say defeatedly. “I mean, if her reaction at the party is anything to go by. When we were playing the game, you know. When the bottle landed on me and Heeseung, she looked completely disgusted, but when we came out she didn’t even question whether something might have happened, as if that was just impossible for her.”
Chaeyeong sighs. “Well, if you tell her, she’ll definitely be surprised. But I’m sure she’d be fine with it… right?”
Your friend’s doubt only makes you feel even worse, and you drop your head into your palms with a groan. “I hate everything about this.”
Chaeyeong nudges your shoulder with her own, making you turn your head to look at her. “I’m sure you didn’t hate that whole part when you were in the closet with-”
“Chaeyeong!” you scream before she can finish her godforsaken sentence, but it only makes her break into a fit of giggles. You try to pretend to be mad at her but a smile breaks through your pout at the sound of her laughter.
“Well? You can’t deny it, can you?”
It takes another nudge of her shoulder with yours to make you reply. “Of course not, but-”
“So that’s it then! Let’s not think about any of the possible bad outcomes for now, and just focus on getting you and him together.” She doesn’t even give you time to answer - your wide eyes and panicked expression are enough for her to know what you would say. “Listen, I’ve had to sit here and watch you and Heeseung make heart eyes at each other without the other knowing, and that was already excruciating enough - I can’t stand to watch you make heart eyes at each other now that you know what the other feels.”
It takes you a second to process all of her words. “Y-you think Heeseung makes heart eyes at me?” you ask weakly. It’s like you have selective hearing today.
“Girl! He somehow manages to make it even more obvious than you. Also, Jake told me that Heeseung told him that he likes you. Can’t get much more reassurance than that.” Your dumbstruck expression makes her look at you in disbelief. “You seriously don’t see it?” she says in a fascinated voice, as if in wonder at your stupidity. You can only slightly shake your head no.
“I can’t believe this is what I have to deal with…” She sounds like an overworked office worker and mother of four rather than a high school senior on her summer break, and her attitude would make you laugh if you weren’t so rattled by the thought that Heeseung might have actually liked you all these years, you were just too caught up in your own feelings for him to notice it.
She takes your hand in hers and sighs. “I can promise you I wouldn’t be saying all this if I didn’t really believe it,” she starts, voice much softer than before. “I remember the way he would get all shy and blushy whenever you were around, and that boy was already one hell of a nervous wreck on his own. And the blatant flirting since he’s come back makes me want to applaud him and vomit everywhere at the same time,” she says with a chuckle.
“Really?” you ask, a small smile appearing on your lips as you let yourself be convinced by your friend’s words.
“Really. And you, I’ve noticed how you pay more attention when his name is mentioned. And you were always a bit cheerier on the days you came back from school after riding the bus with him. Don’t even get me started on the way you’ve been this summer. You couldn’t get more obvious. It screams ‘I can’t handle being around this man for more than a minute so I’ll just run away,’ and I mean that in a good way.”
You look at Chaeyeong with a pout, and her smile grows bigger. You squint your eyes as you look away, trying to keep your grin down. “Guess I wasn’t as discrete as I thought I was.”
“You really weren’t,” she laughs. “Probably thought it was your own little secret, right?”
You’re slightly embarrassed that you’d been uncovered such a long time ago, but it’s also a relief, being able to share this with someone.
“I did…” you admit, and it makes you both break into laughter. After you’ve calmed down, you ask Chaeyeong why she’d never said anything about it before. She thinks about it for a bit before answering.
“I’m not completely sure. Maybe because you and Heeseung were both such losers, I thought that even if I told you I knew, nothing would happen.” You scoff, slightly offended, but more because you know she’s right than anything. “And I don’t know, you two were just so cute with your crush on each other. I wanted to let you figure it out on your own, but now it’s taken so long and it’s right in your face but you’re still doing nothing about it, so I got fed up.”
You nod at her words, taking it all in. Was it really time to let Heeseung know about your feelings?
“I also feel bad for Heeseung, you know.” You look at her, waiting for her to continue. “Poor guy has been in agony these days. You need to stop ignoring him. I know it’s because you feel weird about him being Seeun’s brother, but I swear I think he might die if you don’t just at least talk to him. I’ve actually talked to Jake…” she reveals, and you wouldn’t have questioned her talking to Heeseung’s friend if it weren’t for the way she said it.
“You have?” you repeat with a suggestive tone.
“I have,” she says with a smile, “but that’s not the topic right now. Anyway, he said that Heeseung’s been losing his mind trying to figure out what to do. I think it’d make things a lot easier if you just went and talked to him, cleared things up, confessed your undying love for him, hm?”
“Who are we confessing to?” Seeun asks, suddenly appearing at the door and making you and Chaeyeong scream in genuine terror.
“Nice to see you guys, too,” she chuckles before flopping down on the bed.
Chaeyeong is only good with her words when it comes to arguing - she’s perhaps the most terrible liar you’ve encountered in your life. But at least she knows this, and is always deft at switching the topic rather than attempting to come up with an excuse. “Y/N and I were just talking about watching some movies with the boys tonight. Apparently, they’re having a movie night at your place since you’ve got the best TV, and Jake asked if we wanted to join.”
You know better than to look surprised by Chaeyeong’s words and make it clear that she’s lying, but you’re still caught off-guard by the sudden news. Movie night meant being in a darkened room in proximity to Heeseung, and we all know what happened the last night you were in a dark room with him.
“Y/N and I thought it was a good idea, but we wanted to ask you first. Right, Y/N?” Chaeyeong suddenly prompts, momentarily tearing you away from your thoughts of Heeseung’s lips on yours.
“Right,” you reply, somehow successfully pretending like you’re not on the verge of spontaneously combusting. You’re even more embarrassed now that you know that Chaeyeong and Jake know about your little crush, and you can’t even pretend it isn’t there like you usually do.
Seeun hums. “Alright, sounds fun.”
The three of you chat the rest of the afternoon away, and before you know it, you’re getting ready to go to Seeun’s house. As you rummage around your drawers for that one pair of soft sweatpants that manages to be the most comfortable article of clothing on Earth while also making your butt look amazing, your phone buzzes twice, and so do Chaeyeong’s and Seeun’s. The first notification is of Heeseung having added you to a group chat simply named “movie night”, and the second is of a link being sent to said chat. When you click on it, it redirects you to a poll to rank ten movies in order of how much you want to watch them. Your favorite movie is on the list, and you can’t help but wonder whether it’s a coincidence or whether it’s something you’d talked about during high school and that he’d somehow remembered.
Once everyone has voted, you receive a second link, this one asking you to rank the three top movies in watch order. A smile breaks on your lips at this - it’s very Heeseung of Heeseung to do this and avoid later confrontation. As if to confirm this thought, your phone dings for a third time with a text from him that reads “this is so we don’t spend thirty minutes choosing a movie.” You’re not sure why everything he does is so endearing to you, all you know is that trying to avoid as much conflict as possible is a very Heeseung thing to do, and you’re grateful for it too.
When you get to Seeun’s house around seven-thirty p.m., the first movie is already up on the TV, waiting to be played. It’s horror, and you’re glad it wasn’t picked to be watched last, otherwise, you might’ve had trouble falling asleep. You quickly notice that Heeseung is the only one of the boys not currently sitting on the couch or in an armchair, and the question appearing in your head is answered almost right away when Seeun asks about her brother’s whereabouts.
“He’s just in the kitchen getting the drinks ready,” Jay answers as he sprawls his body even more across the armchair he’s reserved for himself.
“Why don’t you go help him out, Y/N?” Chaeyeong proposes with a deceptively innocent smirk, and if Seeun hadn’t been watching, you’d have given your hellspawn of a friend a serious death glare, but all you can do is mumble out “sure” and make your way to the dreaded kitchen. The butterflies you used to feel when thinking of Heeseung or being around him before have now turned into brutal rhinos trampling your insides, and it doesn’t feel so nice.
“Hey, Heeseung,” you say quietly as you enter the kitchen, and your nerves make your own voice sound unfamiliar to your ears. He gasps at your sudden appearance, a blush immediately creeping on his cheeks, and you’re glad the lid on the bottle of Coke he’s holding is tightly screwed, otherwise, it might’ve spilt everywhere.
“O-oh, hey, Y/N,” he stammers in response. It’s awkward for three seconds as the two of you stare at each other until you remember why you’re here in the first place.
“Um, I heard you might need some help?” you ask, and again, the sound of your own voice, so squeaky and unsure, makes you wince.
“Oh, sure. Thanks,” he says with a hint of a smile. “Here, you can fill this bowl with ice.”
You comply, and the refreshing feeling of the ice against your fingers somewhat helps to cool you down. It’s only quiet for a few moments, because although starting a conversation is terrifying, the tension in the silence and the thought of your feelings being left unsaid is far worse. So you take a deep breathe and open your mouth to speak.
“I’m sorry-”
“I’m sorry-”
You and Heeseung exchange a bewildered look, the surprise of apologizing at the same time quickly fading out into a burst of shy giggles. “You go first,” he says, risking another glance your way as he busies himself again with the glasses and the drinks.
“I’m sorry for avoiding you all week,” you start. “I wanted to talk to you, I was just… scared. And I didn’t know what to say.”
Explaining your behavior any further means confessing your feelings for him and articulating your fear of Seeun finding out, and even though it must be all clear as day by now, you’re still not quite ready to talk about it. Not now, when your friends are in the room right next to you. So you don’t add anything and hope that Heeseung has developed some sort of telepathy skills over the last few days.
When he doesn’t press any further, instead saying it’s okay and smiling at you (properly, with eye contact), a weight seems to be lifted off your heart. “Your turn now,” you say, still smiling. You’ve emptied the ice cube tray into the bowl, so all you can do is look at Heeseung and wait for him to speak. If only you knew how much harder that made it for him.
“I’m sorry for kissing you and then acting weird.” He can’t quite bring himself to look at you as he speaks, and even though he’s done getting the drinks ready, he keeps his eyes trained on the glasses as if they’ll tell him what to say next. “I’m not sorry for kissing you,” he adds quickly, “not at all.” Heat rises to your face and you have to tear your gaze away from him for a second. “I was confused ‘cause I never thought you might… want that too,” he says, voice quieter than before, like he’s scared that the others might hear him - like he’s scared that you might hear him.
The words are right there at the tip of your tongue, begging to be let free - so for once, you comply. “I do.” Your voice is just as quiet as his, perhaps even more so, and if it wasn’t for Heeseung’s sharp intake of breath, you’d have thought he didn’t hear you.
Your gazes lock, and the simultaneous relief and fear you feel are mirrored in his wide eyes. His face then breaks into a huge grin, and he is so dazzlingly handsome that you have to look away once more. You smile at the ground instead, grateful that breathing is something you do without having to think about it, otherwise, you’d have stopped doing it a long time ago.
Neither of you says anything more, letting the silence do its job. You look back up at him as he sighs deeply, almost contentedly, it seems. He smiles at the glasses as if they told him the right thing to say. He looks at you, smiles wider, looks away, looks back, looks away again, scratches the back of his head. You watch the whole time, small giggles bubbling up your throat and out of your lips.
He sighs once more and looks back at you, keeping his eyes on yours this time. “Okay, we should head back now. But talk more later?” he asks, and you nod immediately. Any other time, you’d have been embarrassed to show your interest so obviously, but you’d just told each other you both wanted to kiss the other, so agreeing to talk more later felt like nothing now.
“Okay,” he repeats, grin still wide on his lips as he picks up the tray and heads back to the others, you following close behind.
“Took you long enough,” Seeun says, scrolling on her phone as you step into the living room, but you’re too focused on something else to quip back at her.
Jay is still reigning over his armchair while Sunghoon, Seeun, Chaeyeong and Jake, in this order, occupy the main couch that faces the TV. This means that the only spot left for you and Heeseung to sit in is the other armchair opposite Jay’s, obviously big enough for one person but slightly too small for two people to sit comfortably on, as in to sit without their bodies touching each other.
Heeseung had just admitted he wanted to kiss you. You had also just admitted to Heeseung you wanted to kiss him. Now, you were going to sit together in an armchair that forced two people into proximity, and you had to pretend like that was fine.
When you manage to take your eyes away from the godforsaken armchair, your eyes meet Jake’s, then Chaeyeong’s, and that’s when you realize. They did it on purpose. The poorly-concealed smirks on their faces and giggles threatening to escape their lips as they take in your reaction make it all too clear. You could strangle your best friend right now. You know she’s doing you a favor, and deep down, you’re thankful for it, but you also know sitting through these movies is going to be the most arduous task of your life when Heeseung is right there. Close enough to touch, close enough to lace your fingers together or thread yours through his hair. You remembered very well from your game of seven minutes in heaven that it was just as soft as it looked.
You send Chaeyeong yet another death glare, but it only makes her smile more. You set the bowl of ice on the table after Heeseung’s put the drinks tray down, and immediately make yourself a glass of Sprite to keep your hands occupied for at least a little bit.
While you do that, Heeseung takes a seat on the armchair, and the sight you’re greeted with when you turn to sit next to him makes you almost drop your drink. After the little confession-like moment you shared in the kitchen, it seems like all his confidence from before the party has returned to him. He’s taken a comfortable seat indeed - he’s shamelessly manspreading, thighs almost taking up the whole space as if inviting you to find your own seat there. He lets himself be engulfed by the soft cushions as his head falls back against the headrest, exposing his neck and prominent Adam’s apple.
You’d just gotten used to shy, flustered Heeseung again, only for him to return to his confident self in the blink of an eye. You try not to let it deter you, especially because you’re not the only two in this room, but his smirk as he looks up at you makes it hard not to. All you can do is redirect your death stare towards him, but sadly, much like with Chaeyeong, the only effect it has is to make him smile wider, as if torturing you was a fun pastime for them.
You mumble at him to scooch then sit down next to him, knees bent close to your chest so your legs don’t touch his too much, but that plan is quickly thrown out of the window when you feel his hand sneaking behind your back until it reaches your waist, settling there. Even with a layer of fabric between his hand and your skin, the contact sends a shiver down your spine, and you have to keep yourself from audibly gasping. Conscious of the drink in your hand, Heeseung pulls you gently towards him, making your bent knees fall to the side and rest on his thigh. So much for keeping your distance.
Even your idea of occupying your hands with a drink turns out to be useless twenty minutes into the movie when the first jumpscare almost makes you spill your Sprite all over you and Heeseung. You take a big gulp before leaning forwards to set your glass on the table, and Heeseung’s hand stays put the whole time, even squeezing gently when you find your seat again. Without the drink, you know it’s a bit weird to stay sitting upright, but you can’t imagine leaning fully back against Heeseung or resting your head on his shoulder. This already feels like a lot - to be even closer to him would probably send you into cardiac arrest. Plus, even in the darkness of the room, the light coming from the TV screen would be enough for the others to see your and Heeseung’s position on the armchair, and you definitely don’t need Seeun to see you cuddling up to her brother.
You’re already tense from sitting right next to Heeseung, and the movie playing on the screen is not helping - creepy music that puts you on edge, camera angles that only let you see the character’s face and nothing else, weird silhouettes that flash for just a second - this is one of the rare times a horror movie actually does what it’s supposed to do, i.e. scare you. You almost managed to forget the boy’s presence next to you, but when a particularly suspenseful scene plays, you instinctively reach out to grab something, anything, and of course, that happens to be his wrist. You’re so immersed in the movie that it’s only when he wriggles out of your grasp and takes your hand in his instead that you realize what you’ve done.
It’s like somebody pressed the pause button as you look down at your intertwined hands, the sound and light coming from the TV screen not registering in your mind anymore. When you dare to look at Heeseung’s face, he’s already shyly smiling down at you. He quickly turns away to watch the movie instead, but you’re still too focused on the warmth of his hand and the feeling of his fingers between yours to care whether the stupid white girl will make it out of the house safely or not.
This is something you’ve daydreamed about a thousand times before. Every time you’d ride the bus together or walk side by side, you wondered what would happen if you just reached out and grabbed his hand. It was always right there - but the line you’d be crossing seemed miles and miles away. Now that it’s finally happening, you realize it’s a lot better than you could ever have imagined. You feel like you should be freaking out, scared by what this simple touch means and by the fact that Seeun could turn her head at any moment and see you holding hands with her brother, but all you feel is contentment. Your feelings for Heeseung just needed to be reciprocated, and now that you know they might be - no, that they are - it’s like you can be at peace with them.
Feeling bolder, you squeeze Heeseung’s hand once then bring it to rest on your knee. You sense his gaze on your face once again, but you avoid it and keep your eyes fixated on the TV screen, unable to keep yourself from smiling even though one of the side characters is getting brutally murdered. Your smile only gets bigger when he squeezes your hand back.
You stay like this for so long that your and Heeseung’s hands seem to melt together, and you can hardly tell where your own fingers end anymore. The doorbell rings during another tense scene, making everyone jump in their seats, but it’s just the pizza guy.
Seeun goes to get the door and pay, and the poor girl has barely placed the pizzas on the coffee table that the boys are already pouncing on it like starved children. Only Heeseung stays put, laughing at his friends and waiting for them to get a slice. The fact that he gives you a plate - with a slice of your favorite pizza, no less - before getting his own shouldn’t make your heart race as much as it does, but your cheeks still heat up at the simple gesture. The darkness of the room does nothing to hide your flustered expression as you mumble out a ‘thank you.’
You all eat your fill and watch the rest of the movie, agreeing that the end was quite disappointing (even though you were all stressing out and holding onto each other for dear life during the climax - Heeseung’s hand found yours again as soon as you were done eating, and you’re pretty sure one of his fingers was close to breaking with how hard you were grabbing him).
To everyone’s surprise, Seeun announces that she’s going to bed halfway through the second movie.
“But it’s only eleven p.m.!” Chaeyeong protests, as if knowing the time would make Seeun change her mind.
“I know, but that pizza took me out for some reason. I’ve been falling asleep for the past half hour, might as well just go to bed.” There’s not much to argue, so a chorus of ‘goodnights’ ensues as Seeun trudges upstairs. The three on the couch immediately use the added space to spread out more, Sunghoon extending his legs to the side so that the back of his knees rests in Chaeyeong’s lap and his feet in Jake’s. Both of them complain about the weight but don’t do anything to make him actually move, so he contentedly keeps his position.
You can’t help but think that with Seeun gone, you can also make yourself more comfortable. You’re thinking about whether to change your position on the armchair, going over the different ways Heeseung might react, when you catch Chaeyeong’s look. She raises her eyebrows at you as if to say, “what are you waiting for?” as if your next move should be obvious. You look away from her and back at the screen, then start to lean backwards as naturally as possible, but that’s hard to do when your heart is beating a thousand miles an hour. Luckily (or not) for you, Heeseung seems to get the message immediately and wraps his free hand around your shoulder, bringing you closer to him - closer than you had intended to.
The loudness of the movie isn’t enough to drown out the sound of your sharp intake of breath at the sudden proximity, and you feel your face heating up when Heeseung chuckles at your reaction. This is a comedy movie you’ve watched a bunch of times already, which makes it all too easy for you to focus on him rather than the screen. Now that your head rests on his shoulder, if you turned your face ever-so-slightly, you could get a proper whiff of his cologne and his skin. You really, really want to bury your nose in his neck and inhale, but you’re afraid that might get you a couple of weird looks.
You look down at your intertwined hands again and happily realize that you can now unabashedly stare at Heeseung’s hands the way you had always wanted to. You can finally play with his long fingers, tracing the outline of them and bending them softly at the knuckles, and admire the lines on his palm as if they might reveal everything you want to know about him. You can finally do it, so you do, almost unconsciously - you don’t realize that you’re touching his hand as freely as if it were your own until you hear his breath start to get shakier.
You halt your motions right away and look up at him alarmed, scared that you’ve made him uncomfortable when he avoids your gaze. But then he reaches for your hand again and the corner of his lips tug ever-so-slightly into a small smile. You’re not sure if it’s the light of the TV screen on his face, but it even seems like his cheeks have reddened. You’ve been flustered one too many times to not recognize the symptoms, but it’s still surreal to think that you might have the same effect on Heeseung as he has on you.
Giddy with this new realization, you make yourself more comfortable against Heeseung, resting your head in the dip between his neck and his shoulder and bringing your knees closer to him. His hand travels from your shoulder to your waist, holding you there. You continue to play with his other hand, only half-paying attention to the movie. In this new position, you can feel Heeseung’s chest rising in rhythm with his breathing, and that is much more mesmerizing to you than any movie could be.
The only times you tear yourself away are when Jay brings snacks in from the kitchen and when you need to go to the toilet between the second and third movies. Other than that, you stay cuddled up close to Heeseung, basking in the warmth you’d been longing for for years. It’s so comfortable that you never want to leave, even when Heeseung’s touch burns as his hand sneakily finds its way underneath your t-shirt to trace patterns against the bare skin of your waist. You almost yelp from how unexpected but pleasant it is.
You both easily stay awake until the end of the third movie, perhaps because your nerves are too much in a frenzy from being so close for you to feel sleepy. Sunghoon, Jake and Chaeyeong, however, have all fallen asleep, and Jay wishes you goodnight and heads upstairs as soon as the movie is over.
In a whispered conversation that feels too intimate for your own good, you and Heeseung decide to let the others sleep on the couch rather than wake them up, and to clean up the pizza boxes and other things littering the coffee table.
It’s quiet as you throw the trash away and put everything back in cupboards or in the fridge. You’re on your last bite of a cold slice of pepperoni pizza when Heeseung breaks the comfortable silence.
“So…”
You look at him as he stands, lower back against the counter and gaze directed towards the ground. Now that you’re in a bright room, you know that the blush on his cheeks isn’t just a trick of the light. A smile that mirrors his grows on your lips at his endearing shyness.
“So…” you echo, making him chuckle.
“I’m not sure where to start,” he confesses, scratching the back of his neck. You’re not sure how this is the same Heeseung that had held you close to him just moments prior, but you understand that he might revert back to his nervous self when he’s in a more serious situation. You’re not completely relaxed either.
You pretend to think for a second, but you know exactly what it is you want to ask. “Well, there is this thing I’ve been curious about…” you start. He looks at you and tilts his head to the side, so you take it as your cue to go on. “What the hell happened when you were away at college for you to come back so different?” you ask with an amused tone to your voice.
So he tells you about his freshman year. About the party that Jake dragged him to and everything that ensued after it. He doesn’t go into too much detail about exactly how he met Yunjin or all the flirting (and kissing) practice he’s had, just saying that he found ways to build his confidence - and at the end, he quietly confesses that he’d done it to find the courage to confess to you, but that it hadn’t gone so well after all. You try not to dwell on the fact that he changed so much for you, because thinking about it for too long would probably melt you into a puddle.
“What do you mean, it didn’t go so well?” you question softly, lowering your voice to the same volume as him. You’ve realized that when you and Heeseung talk, you often end up doing so really quietly. You don’t know why you like it so much.
“Well, you know, you’ve been avoiding me all week,” he starts, trying to make his tone the least reproachful he can, because he’s not mad at you, not at all - if anything, he’s mad at himself. “So I thought I’d really messed things up.”
“You didn’t mess anything up, Heeseung. If anything, I’m the one who made things weird. I just…” You sigh. “I’m so scared of Seeun finding out. But…”
“But?” he prompts, a hopeful look on his face. Clearly, dating his sister’s best friend isn’t as much of a dilemma for him as it is for you.
“But I’m more scared of letting you go now that I finally have you,” you say to the ground.
A beat passes. “So don’t,” he whispers, voice so low you barely hear it - but you do, and you understand his words loud and clear. They resonate in your head as he takes a step closer to you, then another and another. You feel your heart pulse throughout your entire body when he reaches you, standing right in front of you.
Your breath hitches when he rests one of his hands on the kitchen counter behind you. Gently, he cups one side of your face with his other hand and brushes your cheek with his thumb, prompting you to look up at him. He’s so close you could count every single one of his eyelashes.
“So don’t,” he repeats with a small smile. When he bends down to kiss you, melting against his lips is the easiest thing you’ve ever done.
The feeling of his soft lips against yours brings you back immediately to that closet. You both only realize just how much you’d been itching to pick things up from where you’d left them when the kiss gets heated in a matter of mere seconds, your need and longing for each other over the past five days evident in the way you pull each other impossibly close.
Your hands reach up, first resting on his shoulders but quickly finding their way towards the back of his neck, grabbing at the hair there almost instinctively, desperate to have something to hold onto. Meanwhile, his hands brush along your sides, moving from your hips to your waist before they encircle your middle in an attempt to bring you closer to him.
There’s no battle for dominance in your kiss, no trying to win the other over, no trying to make the other succumb - rather, you fall easily into each other’s rhythm, relishing in the other’s taste and the long awaited proximity. His mouth is soft against yours, his hair is soft under your hands, and his touch is driving you insane. You never want to stop.
After a few minutes, however, the light-headedness from a lack of air and kissing so passionately gets too much, so you draw back slightly to take a breath - but Heeseung seems to have other plans. He reacts immediately to you pulling away, and doesn’t even give you a second to breathe before pressing his lips back against yours, as though his air were your kiss.
The suddenness makes you gasp, and he takes that opportunity to brush his tongue against yours, deepening the kiss even further than before. You feel your heartbeat speed up when his hands trail back down your body, but when he lowers himself slightly to reach the back of your thighs, picking you up and setting you on the counter with ease, never once breaking the kiss, you’re pretty sure your soul actually leaves you. All you can think about is Heeseung and all you can do is continue kissing him like your life depends on it. Having your face at the same level as his now that you’re up on the counter makes it all even easier and more comfortable.
But it also means he has easier access to your neck, and as soon as he realizes that, he jumps on the opportunity. Breaking away from the kiss, he presses his lips to the corner of your own before making his way along your jawline and down your neck. Your breaths come out heavy, almost sigh-like, and you really have to keep yourself from making any noise, lest the others in the room right next to you might wake up and hear you. The feeling of Heeseung’s lips on the sensitive skin of your neck is completely new to you, but it’s an amazing kind of new - it’s the kind of new you know you won’t ever get enough of, even when it becomes familiar.
His kisses are burning hot, and yet goosebumps spread all over your body. When he finds the spot that has you taking in a sharp breath and gripping his hair tighter, Heeseung is quick to focus his attention there and there only. He nips lightly at the skin, and that has you whispering out his name. Hearing that only makes him double down on his actions; he alternates between biting down and kissing to relieve your skin, and he’s only satisfied when there’s a bright red spot in the crook of your neck. God, where did he learn how to do all that? Is this what they teach in college?!
He looks up at you with a proud smile, and he’s so cute that you almost say nothing about the very obvious mark he just left on you, but you still feel the need to scold him. “You’re gonna get us in trouble, doing things like this,” you say with a smile just as bright as his, which probably doesn’t make you look very serious, but you can’t help it - you’re on cloud nine right now.
“What if I want to get into trouble with you?” he replies, gaze fixed on your lips. You can’t say anything in return at that, so you just slightly shake your head in amusement and lean back in to kiss him again.
It seems that sharing so much oxygen has gotten to both of your heads, because this time around, the kiss is more light-hearted than intense, noses bumping into each other and teeth almost clashing from how hard the both of you are smiling, giggles spilling out through every touch of your lips.
“See? I told you!”
The sudden sound of Jake’s voice coming from the doorway forces you and Heeseung apart and your face heats up immediately at the sight of Jake, Chaeyeong and even Sunghoon all looking at the two of you with a surprised but proud expression on their faces.
He takes a small step back from you and turns his body to face them, but can’t actually bring himself to look at them; you’re not much better, smiling shyly at your lap and playing with your hands in shame at being caught. At least it wasn’t by Seeun.
Sunghoon approaches Heeseung with big steps, clapping a hand loudly against his friend’s back when he reaches him. “You finally did it, man! I’m so proud of you,” he exclaims, and actually sounds really excited.
Heeseung risks a glance your way, obviously embarrassed by his friend’s words, but it only makes you smile harder. You slightly curse yourself for not having realized Heeseung liked you back earlier - you could’ve done this such a long time ago. As Sunghoon continues congratulating Heeseung, you catch Chaeyeong’s gaze, and she winks at you. You find yourself relieved to have her on your side, but you know that sooner or later, you’ll have to talk to Seeun about this.
Indeed, the five of you head upstairs to go to bed, and before Heeseung and you go your separate ways, he catches your hand, squeezes it once tightly as if to bid you a silent ‘good night,’ then smiles his bright smile at you - and you know you’re in deep, far too deep to keep it secret for long.
(There’s an awkward conversation the next morning when Seeun asks how the hell you had gotten a hickey and Chaeyeong immediately jumps in, saying she did it. “For… practice,” she’d explained with as convincing a smile as she could. Luckily for you both, Seeun wouldn’t put it past her to actually do that, so she didn’t question it much further.)
--
You and Heeseung start sneaking around anyway, not quite ready to reveal your budding relationship to the world (read: Seeun).
You can’t hang out at your house, because your parents would see or hear him, and blabber innocently to the adult Lees, even if you told them not to - why couldn’t they talk to each other about their kids dating? It’s great news! Let’s have a family dinner! What? You don’t want Seeun to know? But she’s your best friend! She’ll understand, she’ll be happy for you!
You don’t need to actually have the conversation to know what your parents will say. You’ve known them for eighteen years, after all.
For more obvious reasons, you can’t hang out at his house, either - if you’re there, it means you’re with Seeun, and the risk of her finding you in her brother’s room was too great to take.
At least Heeseung has a car. But it’s not like you can go many places, anyway - the town you live in isn’t huge, chances of running into an old classmate or even a friend are high, news travels fast, word of Heeseung and you dating could easily get back to Seeun. You went to your local diner for your first secret date with Heeseung (Chaeyeong, of course, knew about it, but Seeun thought your period cramps were too bad to sleep over that night), and there, you’d seen three different people that you knew, and Heeseung two.
He didn’t seem to care much about his sister, or anyone for that matter, finding out about the two of you - in fact, if it was up to him, he’d have screamed it to the world right after you’d kissed at the party. But he respected your wishes, and even found your slight paranoia and darting eyes the whole evening somehow endearing - although he wished you’d paid more attention to him than to the other patrons in the diner. You hadn’t even noticed when he stole a whole handful of fries from your plate, or when he switched your strawberry milkshake with his vanilla one.
So he did the one thing he knew would get your attention - when you both reached his car, he led you to the backseat before you could head to the passenger side. You weren’t sure what he was doing until he had you on his lap, a devilish smirk on his lips that you only got a glimpse of before he trapped your own, slightly parted in surprise, in a kiss. There was a faint protest of “what if someone sees us” but any complaint you might have held flew away when his tongue ran over your bottom lip, asking for entry that you immediately granted. After all, you were just as desperate for more of him as he was for more of you.
You couldn’t break away from the kiss - how could you, when his lips slotted against yours so perfectly, as if you were specially crafted for one another? All you could do was hope that the fire between you two made the windows of Heeseung’s car fog up so that no one could see inside and get a glimpse of what you were doing in there.
It wasn’t any of their business anyway.
That first date opened your eyes to the many advantages of car dates. On warm summer nights like the ones you’re currently having, you can find a wide, empty space, and park there, laying down a blanket on the roof of the car and admiring the stars. You can spend hours sharing childhood anecdotes, asking Heeseung a thousand times about the moment he realized he liked you, and telling each other the things you’d always been too scared to reveal to another person. If you get hungry, you can drive to any food place and enjoy your late-night meal from your seats in the parking lot, or drive to another place with a view - although you don’t really need any sort of scenery when Heeseung sits next to you. His delighted expression as he takes his first bite or his eyes looking at you with fondness you didn’t know you could elicit from someone are some of the beautiful sights your eyes have ever been blessed with.
And after that, because innocent hand-holding and not-so-innocent thigh touches always lead to something else, most nights, you find yourselves in the backseat, basking in each other’s warmth and relishing the other’s touch. Every time, you grow needier. Every time, you need more. But so does he, and so you take and take and take just as much as you give and give and give. Even after two weeks of doing this, you’re just as on edge as before, just as reactive to any certain look he might send your way or any touch of his. You’re so relaxed, so comfortable when the two of you are talking - but as soon as you notice him glancing at your lips, or the streetlights hit him a certain way, you’re reminded of the incredible way his kiss makes you feel, and your mind fixates on it, not satisfied until you have his body close to yours.
You also quickly find out that Heeseung’s favorite drink is Coke and you almost always taste it on his lips. You even bought Coke-flavored chapstick just to have a trace of him when you can’t be together (you’re also maybe hoping that he’ll taste the soda on your own lips, and start thinking of you whenever he drinks it.
What you don’t know is that Heeseung is always thinking of you, no matter what he’s doing, anyways).
There’s also moments where you both revert back to your flustered selves, like when you stare too hard at him for his liking (he actually loves it, it just makes him really shy) or when he compliments you out of nowhere. In those moments, it’s like you forget about the many passionate kisses you’ve shared, like you’re back on one of those comfortably silent bus rides or in that sunlit room, trying to finish a puzzle together. But then his hand grazes against yours, and you’re reminded you can hold it with confidence now - you can do many things with confidence now. As the days pass, Heeseung is pleasantly surprised to see you initiate more and more of your makeout sessions, and although your impatience to get your hands on him strokes his ego, he’ll never get tired of you avoiding his gaze when he calls you pretty.
You have to make sure not to meet up too often, otherwise your continued absence would raise Seeun’s suspicion, but it’s also hard to go more than a day without spending a little time with the other. It seems that after years of unknown mutual pining, you’ve both run out of patience and can’t stand to be away from each other for too long. This is why, more than once, Heeseung has pulled you into his room just to smell your hair or bury his face in the crook of your neck or make out - but you always make him put a five-minute timer on.
Truth be told, even though you knew your feelings for Heeseung weren’t surface level, in all the times you’d daydreamed about finally being with him, you hadn’t expected it’d be so intense. Maybe that’s what happens when you find out that the other person felt the same way you had felt about them the whole time - you feel so stupid for not finding out sooner that you can’t afford to waste a second, and years of deep emotions are squeezed into mere hours of being able to see each other at a time.
It’s the hardest when your two friend groups hang out - he’s right there, but you can’t do anything. He sits next to you at the table or on the couch and pretends like everything’s completely normal, but you grow even quieter than usual because his scent and proximity drive you crazy. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy seeing you getting flustered or clearly having to hold back - something about only him having that effect on you does something to his brain.
Chaeyeong and Jake are both your allies and worst enemies. While they always cover for you, they also love to put you and Heeseung in… situations. Like “off-handedly” mentioning that game of seven minutes in heaven or that movie night (without mentioning you directly, of course, but they know what you’re thinking and you know what they’re thinking), sending you on snack runs together or somehow leaving you two behind, alone in a room.
Or proposing an evening at the pool.
During the summer, your municipal pool stays open late at night every day, and on week evenings, it doesn’t get very crowded. If you go there once the sun’s set, the atmosphere is amazing - the glow of the lights in the pool gives the whole space a bright blue hue, and the stars shine directly inside through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. If you’re lucky, you and your friends might go on a night when you get the whole place to yourselves.
You know it’s a good idea. You know you’ll all have fun, but you also know you’ll have to pretend that seeing Heeseung half-naked with wet hair isn’t putting you on the verge of spontaneously combusting. The worst part is you don’t even need to use your imagination at all to conjure up that image - you’ve seen him in the hallway as he came out of the shower before, so you already know how devastatingly good he’ll look at the pool. You’re weak in the knees just thinking about it.
Getting ready for the pool and the drive there pass in a blur, and before you know it, you’re in the changing room, and all you need to do is dress down to your bikini and head towards the pool where a shirtless Heeseung will be waiting to greet you.
You wrap your towel around your waist in an attempt to cover yourself until you actually need to get into the water. Because not only are you freaking out about seeing Heeseung in his swimsuit, you’re also nervous about him seeing you half-naked. The last time you went to the pool together, puberty still hadn’t hit either of you, and you were still in the happy years of not being self-aware of your body or of others’. Even though summer hang-outs with his friends and yours weren’t so uncommon, you’d never gone to the pool together, and the fact that you’re now dating and you know he’ll be looking at you only adds to your nerves.
All four boys are already in the water when you, Chaeyeong and Seeun arrive, and you notice with horror that they all quiet down and study the three of you as you approach and rid yourselves of your towels, setting them on a bench before heading into the water.
Boys.
It makes Chaeyeong giggle and Seeun roll her eyes, but your whole body is burning under Heeseung’s intense gaze. You watch as his eyes slowly make their way up your body as if trying to commit each inch of you to memory. When your eyes finally lock, a smirk grows on his lips as though he couldn’t care less that you caught him so unashamedly staring. At first, you look away with a huff, but his gaze doesn’t leave you as you and the girls wade into the water towards the boys, so you fix with him a pointed glare instead.
You do your best to ignore him as you all play around in the pool, racing each other to one end and back or trying to drown each other, but that’s hard to do when he seems so set on teasing you as much as he can. He sometimes switches victims and decides to terrorize his little sister or Jake instead, but you’re still his main target. You want to be mad at him, but he seems so excited and happy that you can’t bring yourself to actually scold him. You’ve never seen him so playful, and the way he laughs carefreely, head thrown back and eyes crinkling at the edges, makes your heart swell with adoration for him.
There aren’t that many other people in the pool, mostly kids from high school, who are hogging all the inflatable pool toys - but that doesn’t pose a problem for your group. “Let’s play chicken fight!” you hear Jake say at least four times before someone actually listens to him and agrees.
Someone calls out Jay’s name - you turn your head in the direction of the voice to find that it’s Jiung, whom you vaguely recognize as one of his friends from school. From his uniform, you assume that he’s on shift as the lifeguard. Jay swims towards him and they get into conversation, conveniently leaving six people to play Jake’s game.
This is how he pairs you up - you with Heeseung (of course), him with Chaeyeong and Sunghoon with Seeun. You notice the two of them sharing a small smile, and even though it’s quite dark, you’re pretty sure you notice their faces reddening. You glance at Chaeyeong, who’s already looking at you with a surprised expression - she saw it too. Jake is too excited to play chicken fight to pay anything else attention. He explains the rules, stricter than you’d expected and many of which seem completely made up by him, and announces who will play first. Clearly, Jake takes his chicken fighting very seriously.
You and Heeseung are first up against Seeun and Sunghoon. Heeseung lowers himself underwater so you can get onto shoulders, and you hold onto his head for dear life as he comes back up, loudly releasing the breath he’d been holding in. There’s something thrilling about being so close to Heeseung around the others that you can’t help but giggle for seemingly no reason. You even bend forwards, beaming down at him as you help him push his drenched hair out of his eyes. His eyes meet yours and you giggle together - for a second, it really feels like it’s just the two of you in the pool, but then Jake calls out for you to get ready and starts the countdown for the fight to start.
It’s a bit hard to concentrate on the game when Heeseung’s large hands hold tightly onto your bare thighs, but you do your best to will any impure thoughts away and focus on getting Seeun off of Sunghoon’s shoulders. You both laugh as you grab onto each other, trying to make the other fall while the boys splash each other with water. It’s a tense game that has Jake and Chaeyeong cheering from where they sit on the edge of the pool, and your balance is thrown off a couple times (when Seeun gets into a game, she stops at nothing to win), but Heeseung’s legs are strong and he’s always quick to steady you before you can fall over.
A loud noise coming from the other kids in the pool momentarily catches your attention, but Seeun immediately pounces on you, not unlike a predator on its prey. With a yelp, you fall back into the water, bringing Heeseung down with you. When you come back to the surface, the sound of your opponents celebrating their victory is no more than a faint ring in your ears - the feeling of Heeseung wrapping his arm around your waist and the way he beams down at you, murmuring that you did a good job, make you forget about everything and everyone around you. Your gazes only stay locked like this for maybe two seconds, but you swear time stops for a bit.
Jake’s voice snaps you out of your daze, and you and Heeseung take his and Chaeyeong’s seats on the side of the pool while they get ready to challenge Seeun and Sunghoon. You’re relieved to find that you actually manage to hoist yourself up out of the water and onto the pool’s edge without making a fool of yourself in front of Heeseung.
You want to watch the game peacefully and cheer on your friends, but Heeseung is making it a bit hard. He really, really doesn’t need to be sitting this close to you. He’s leaning back on his palms, toned stomach and chest on display, which is already attractive enough, but his right thigh is also pressed flush against your left one, so much so that you know it has to be intentional. Because he’s placed his right palm close behind you, you can feel his right arm against your lower back as well, and you’re almost tempted to lean back against it.
You’re completely lost in thought, brain only focused on everywhere your body and Heeseung’s touch. It’s like he can see into your mind - he lightly pinches your hip, just underneath the string of your bikini bottoms, and you almost let out a loud gasp. But you manage to keep it down and sit up straight instead, looking at him over your shoulder like he just killed your entire family. He has the audacity to laugh.
This man really has no shame, rendering you unable to think straight in front of everyone like this. Although, to be fair, it’s also partly your fault for reacting so much to such small things.
“Hey guys,” a vaguely familiar voice calls out, and you turn your head to find Jiung and Jay walking towards you. There’s a chorus of hey Jiungs from the four in the water, but they quickly get their heads back in the game. Jay stays standing, watching his friends fight while Jiung crouches behind you and Heeseung.
“So are you guys finally together?” he asks excitedly, a genuine grin on his face, and both you and Heeseung choke on your own saliva. Did everyone know about your mutual crushes before you two did?!
You exchange a glance with Heeseung but quickly look away, suddenly finding great interest in Chaeyeong’s and Seeun’s tactics to make each other fall over.
Heeseung’s eyes dart between your face and Jiung’s as he answers, as if scared he might say one wrong word and offend you in some way. “Um, yeah, we are. But we’re not really… telling people, I guess.”
Jiung gasps in delight, clasping Heeseung’s shoulder in what you guess is a congratulatory gesture. “Keeping it lowkey. Got it. Congrats, you guys. Jay told me about you, like, three years ago, and I’ve been weirdly invested ever since,” he admits honestly, and you try hard to fight back the grin threatening to spread on your lips. You’d never even spoken to Choi Jiung before.
From your peripheral, you can make out Heeseung turning his head to glare at his friend. “Thanks a lot, Jay,” he mumbles.
A loud splash catches everyone’s attention; Chaeyeong has fallen off of Jake’s shoulders, and the other two are celebrating their second win in a row. Your friend just laughs, getting her long hair out of her face, but Jake is practically fuming.
“You guys make a pretty good team, I guess,” he says, and even though it’s supposed to be a compliment, he really doesn’t sound happy about it.
“We do, don’t we?” Sunghoon echoes, looking up at Seeun with a smile.
“We do,” she answers with a giggle.
A giggle.
Seeun didn’t giggle. Unless…
You lock eyes with Chaeyeong. She looks just as surprised as you feel. You tilt your head towards the two lovebirds, who seem lost in their own world, Sunghoon jumping around in the water with Seeun still on his shoulders and laughing. Chaeyeong nods fervently, as if screaming, “I know, I’m seeing it too!”
Seeun didn’t giggle, unless she had a crush on someone. You very much remember the day in freshman year when her middle school crush Kim Sunwoo, a senior at the time, picked up her locker keys that she had dropped in the hallway. The way she turned around when he tapped on her shoulder, awestruck as he smiled, handing her her keys, was straight out of a movie. She blushed and giggled to herself about it for the next two weeks.
You turn to look at Heeseung, but he’s busy listening to Jake, Jay and Jiung as they come up with a strategy to make the victors lose next time around. You internally roll your eyes at their obliviousness, but at least now you know why Heeseung had never figured out you liked him back.
“C’mon Jiung, let’s go beat their arrogant asses,” Jay then prompts, making his friend chuckle and get into the water. They wade their way towards the others, and when Jiung gets on Jay’s shoulders, Seeun’s game face is back on. Your friend can be quite scary.
“Aren’t you supposed to be watching the pool, lifeguard boy?” Sunghoon taunts like a three-year-old, although you’re not sure that “lifeguard boy” is much of an insult. It’s generally accepted that lifeguards are pretty cool.
“Everyone left, dumbass,” Jiung answers plainly. “It’s just us.”
You all look around, and indeed, the high school kids are gone, which means you have the whole place to yourselves.
Seeun looks back at Jiung with a smirk. “Good for you. At least those kids won’t see how much of a loser you are when we destroy you and Jay.”
Chaeyeong and Jake ‘ooh’ at her threat while you and Heeseung watch amusedly. You can’t help but think it isn’t that serious, but seeing your friends so into the game is quite fun.
“Bring it on!” Jiung exclaims, and neither team lets Jake count down before they start attacking each other. The poor guy tries to stop Seeun and Jiung from playing so dirty, reminding them that hair-pulling and armpit-tickling are forbidden, but the two really couldn’t care less, so he quickly gives up trying to make them abide by the rules.
Chaeyeong comes to sit next to you and nudges your shoulder with her own to get your attention. “What do you think’s happening with Seeun and Sunghoon? It’s definitely new.”
You almost hear the boys’ necks crack as they whip their heads to look at you. “Something’s happening with Seeun and Sunghoon?” they whisper-scream at the same time. You’re glad the topic subjects are too engrossed in their game to hear anything.
You chuckle at their reaction but Chaeyeong rolls her eyes. “Obviously. They’ve been acting like teenagers this whole evening.”
“They are teenagers,” Heeseung says with a slight frown as he watches his sister and his friend. “They’re eighteen and nineteen.”
Chaeyeong tuts. “That’s not important. Plus, you really don’t get to anything, Heeseung, when you’ve been going around fucking your sister’s best-”
Jake starts immediately howling of laughter, but all you want in that moment is to let yourself drown in the water and never have to face your friend ever again.
Heeseung’s eyes are wide and his hands are frantically shaking ‘no’ as incoherent protests spill out of his lips. “I- no- we haven’t, we’re not-” He sighs defeatedly when Jake just laughs harder and Chaeyeong joins in.
She knows you guys haven’t done anything of that sort yet, you’ve been telling her - or rather she’s been making you tell her - everything that happens between you and Heeseung. She’s just teasing you, and it’s really working, and you hate her for it. You fix her with a glare that does nothing to make her laughter stop. When you look at Heeseung, his eyebrows have furrowed deeper, and a light blush has spread all over his face, ears and even his neck. With a small pout on his lips, he’s never looked more adorable. Nothing beats the sight of a flustered and slightly mad Heeseung.
His hands have returned to his lap, his right one fidgeting with the hem of his swim trunks. In a moment of boldness, you decide to take it in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze as you smile at him - to be honest, you were also slightly amused by Chaeyeong’s words. She was right; he really couldn’t say anything about his sister liking one of his friends when he’d made out with you so often.
You notice with satisfaction that he can’t keep eye contact and that the color on his face deepens.
You all turn back to the tense game in front of you, noting with surprise that Seeun actually seems to have the upper hand over Jiung. She must be a seasoned chicken fighter, because she loses neither her balance nor her grip on Jiung once. The older boy doesn’t even yelp when he falls into the water, as if he’d seen it coming. Beaming proudly, Seeun gets off of Sunghoon’s shoulders and the two share a quick celebratory hug before shaking their opponents’ hands. The four of them swim their way towards you and you all hang out for a while, letting the fighters regain their energy.
“There’s something I’m not really supposed to do…” Jiung then says, and chuckles when he feels seven pairs of eyes watching him intently. “But I have the keys to the slides, and I know how to operate them.” Everyone cheers before he can even finish his sentence, and Jake and Chaeyeong are quick to get out of the water and run upstairs to the entrance of the slides. Jiung hurries to get the keys and follow them, the rest of you close behind.
Your heart starts beating loudly as soon as you place your foot on the first step. You try to ignore it - you’d never been a fan of attractions like big water slides or roller coasters, but you should get over it one day or another. Might as well try today.
That’s what you keep telling yourself, but once you’ve reached the slides and Jiung gets them running, the loud gush of water falling rapidly makes you feel like you’re going to faint. Seeun’s screams as she goes down, even though they’re from excitement, don’t help your lightheadedness.
When Jake pushes himself down the slide, you clear your throat to speak. You hadn’t even realized how dry your throat had gotten, and the shakiness in your voice takes you aback. “Um, I think I’m gonna sit this one out, guys. I’m not feeling too well.”
Everyone turns to you with a worried expression, and from your peripheral, you notice Heeseung’s hand jolting up towards you, but he stops himself before he actually touches you.
“Oh yeah, I forgot you don’t like slides,” Chaeyeong says with a pout.
“There’s nothing to be scared of! This is totally safe,” Jiung tries to reassure, but for some reason, his eagerness makes you even more doubtful.
“We can go together,” Heeseung suddenly offers. Judging from his expression, he seems surprised at his own words, as if he’d spoken out loud without realizing it. A chorus of agreement rises from the group, and Heeseung’s smile as he looks down at you makes you think that it might be okay to try - although you’re not sure if that’s because you want to get over your fear of slides, or if it’s because the idea of Heeseung’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist and keeping you safe is very alluring.
“O-okay,” you answer, and his smile widens.
You wait until everyone except for Jiung has gone down. Heeseung stands behind you the whole time, a calming hand on your shoulder and the other playing with your drying hair, and his presence actually does wonders to soothe you. When it’s your turn, you sit down right at the top of the slide, trying not to freak out from the feeling of the gushes of water underneath your thighs. For once, Heeseung’s touch as he sits behind you, encaging your body between his legs and his arms, is reassuring rather than fatally heart-fluttering. Now you understand what people mean when they say they feel like nothing can hurt them as long as they’re in their lover’s arms.
“You ready?” Jiung calls out. You’re too nervous to make a peep, only able to nod, so Heeseung answers for you.
“We are.” Just before Jiung can give Heeseung a push, the boy behind you bends down to whisper in your ear. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe, okay?”
You hum back but the faint sound is drowned out by the noise around you as you’re whisked down the slide. It’s so loud and so fast that you’re sure you’d have been screaming like you were being murdered had Heeseung not been there to calm you down. The grip you have on his hands probably hurts, but he doesn’t complain, just laughs from the adrenaline the ride is giving him, and his calmness manages to make your heart stay calm.
You hadn’t even realized you’d squeezed your eyes shut until he told you to open them. The previous flashing lights that had overwhelmed you even with your eyes closed were over, and when you blink your eyes open, you’re fascinated to find that there is no top over the slide, letting the stars shine down on you in all their glory. The feeling of the night breeze against your skin is surprisingly refreshing, and you actually let out a ‘wow,’ all of your previous anxiety slowly leaving your body. This time, when Heeseung giggles against your ear, you actually join him.
Your friends are the sweetest, and when you reach the end of the slide and fall into the water, they’re all clapping and cheering for you as if you’d just come first place in a marathon. You discern a sort of inquisitive look on Seeun’s face as she looks at you and her brother, but you decide to not pay it too much attention and swim away from the slide for Jiung’s arrival.
“So? Wasn’t too bad, right?” Heeseung asks with a grin, his hand sneakily finding yours underwater.
“No, it was nice, actually. Doesn’t mean I’m going a second time, though,” you reply, and he chuckles. You force yourself to look away from his smiling face because you know how easily you can get lost in his gaze, and you’d rather not raise any more suspicion. You swim to the edge of the pool, hoisting yourself up out of the water so you can dry off a bit in the night air.
Jiung whoops his whole way down, and as soon as he comes back to the surface, he asks who wants to go again. Everyone except for you and Heeseung raise their hands. “You’re not going again?” you ask him, eyebrows raised in surprise.
He’s still smiling, and you wished it was just the two of you so you could kiss that pretty smile right off his face. “No, one time was enough for me. I’ll stay here with you.”
This, of course, elicits an obnoxious chorus of ‘ooh’s from your friends. “O-kay,” Chaeyeong says in a singsong voice.
“We’ll leave you two to it, then,” Jake adds with a wiggle of his eyebrows. You hadn’t known you had such murderous tendencies in you until you met this boy.
When you catch Seeun’s gaze, she’s looking at you with slightly raised eyebrows. For a split second, you feel like you’re gonna crumble - she’s gonna figure it out, and she’ll hate you and never speak to you again, and- but then she smiles, just a tiny hint of a smile, and you think that maybe, just maybe, this might be fine after all.
You release a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding when she walks away with the others, but a second breath gets caught in your throat right away when Heeseung crosses his arms over your lap, and you realize it’s gonna be just you two for a little while now. It’s exactly what you had wished for not even a minute ago, but now that it’s actually happening, your heart starts beating wildly once again.
“I’m proud of you,” he says quietly, looking up at you with those big brown eyes you adore so much.
A grin breaks out on your face. He closes his eyes, sighing contentedly as your hand rakes through his dark locks. “Thank you,” you reply just as quietly. “I would never have done something like that on my own.”
He opens his eyes again. The way he looks at you makes you wonder what he sees in your eyes that has him so captivated. You just hope he can’t hear the loudness of your beating heart.
He presses himself closer to you, somewhat forcing your thighs open to accommodate his body in between them, and wraps his arms around your waist. Even if he can’t hear your heartbeat, he can surely hear your shaky intake of breath as he places a soft kiss to the top of your thigh before resting his cheek against it, closing his eyes like he’s planning on napping right there. Your fingers are still in his hair but your brain has stopped computing, so they stay immobile. You try to stay calm so as not to disturb the position Heeseung is in, but your stomach has never been so swarmed by butterflies as now.
Somehow, this feeling is even scarier than going down the slide - maybe because you knew the slide would end at some point. This feels like it might consume you whole and stay with you for the rest of your life. The worst part is you don’t even know exactly what it is that you’re feeling. But it’s everywhere. It makes your fingertips sizzle with electricity, it makes your head almost ache, and it twists your insides all around, but it’s also weirdly pleasant.
It makes you want more.
You can’t believe one simple kiss on your thigh is making you react this way, but now that you’ve felt it, it’s as though you might die if you don’t get to have it over and over again; you already know that a second or a third time won’t be enough either.
“Heeseung?” you call, his name coming out like a question, and his head whips up so quickly you think he might have been waiting for you to say something.
“Yeah?” he replies, something that sounds like anticipation making his voice come out as a whisper.
You weren’t even completely sure what it was you wanted to say, but the way Heeseung looks up at you eradicates any train of thought you’d had. It’s a different type of gaze than before, something you’d only gotten glimpses of during particularly heated make-out sessions but that Heeseung had always seemed to reign in. Hooded eyes that are darker than usual, that seem to be in some sort of a daze, giving the impression that he isn’t quite thinking straight. You’re sure you’ve also had that look in your eyes more than once, when Heeseung’s hand brushed along a particularly sensitive spot on your back or when he absent-mindedly thrusted his hips against yours as you straddled his lap in the backseat, making you moan into his mouth as he hurriedly apologized for getting carried away. You didn’t know how to tell him you were ready for whatever it was he wanted, so you always shushed him with an “it’s okay” and resumed kissing him feverishly. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t press yourself down against his bulge - that neither of you mentioned, but both knew was there - just to get a reaction out of him once in a while, and to get that fire-like feeling in your belly you were starting to crave more and more.
You try to push those far-from-innocent thoughts away from your mind and come up with something to say, but then someone disturbs your peace. Indeed, you hear Jake before you see him. “Heeseung and Y/N, you better not be smooching when I get there!”
Heeseung sighs deeply, a real, pained, frustrated sigh, and you’re glad you’re not the only one going crazy because of your friends. It’s like everyone has forgotten that you and Heeseung are supposed to be a secret. Reluctantly, he detaches himself from you and makes his way next to you, body still in the water but forearms resting on the ground next to the pool.
Another hour or so passes before stomachs start growling from too much fooling around in the water and you all agree to go home. Sadly, there’s nothing open so late in the night in your town, and none of you can be asked to drive all the way to the nearest city for food. On the whole drive home, Chaeyeong bombards Seeun with questions about Sunghoon. Seeun tries to avoid it at first, looking out the window to hide her growing blush, but once the two girls are similar in that once they have set their mind on something, you know they’ll get it. It only takes two minutes of arguing for Seeun to start spilling.
“Well… I’ve known him for a really long time, right? Him and Jay became friends right away, just like the three of us did. I’ve always associated him with Heeseung, so I never thought of him that way…”
“What way?” Chaeyeong cuts in, although she knows exactly what Seeun means.
“Like- like more than a friend,” Seeun explains, voice getting quieter the more she speaks. Chaeyeong squeals in excitement and you chuckle.
“So what happened?” Chaeyeong prompts, and you almost want to remind her to focus on the road. You don’t need to get into a car accident over Seeun’s love life.
Seeun sighs like she’s exasperated by Chaeyeong, but you catch her small smile in the rearview mirror and you know she’s actually happy to be talking about this with you guys. “So, you know that movie night we had?” she starts, waiting for the two of you to nod. You try not to think about what you did on that movie night. “Well, we were sitting next to each other, which usually would’ve been totally fine, right, but for some reason, it made me feel super nervous that night. Like I was hyper-aware of his presence next to me. I could actually smell him, and oh my God, he smells so good, I don’t know how I’d never realized that-”
You and Chaeyeong burst into laughter at that, and Seeun can’t help but join in. “Smelling good is definitely attractive,” you chime in, thinking about how intoxicating it is to have your nose buried in the crook of Heeseung’s neck and get a whiff of his scent.
“And, like, I’ve always known Sunghoon was handsome, right, I’m not blind, but I swear I never felt a particular type of way about him before then, just ‘cause I always saw him as one of my loser brother’s loser friends,” she says, and you make a mental note to repeat that to Heeseung later, “And at first I thought I was going crazy, that I was just feeling that way ‘cause we were sitting so close together in a dark room and everything, but then our knees touched, and I was like, ‘okay, I shouldn’t be losing my shit just ‘cause our knees touched,’ but I was losing my shit-”
She’s retelling the story in such a dramatic, un-Seeun-like and very Chaeyeong-like way that you can’t stop laughing, your stomach almost starting to hurt. “Which is why I went to bed during the second movie. And after that, I was thinking about him so much it was so weird, and I thought I was doomed ‘cause I didn’t wanna have a crush on my brother’s best friend, right?” she says, and Chaeyeong’s and your eyes meet for a second in the mirror. “But then you know that fair thing they had in town last week? You guys wouldn’t volunteer with me, but he was volunteering too, so we spent, like, three days in a row together, and it was really, really fun. We would spend the whole day together, eat together, even hang out afterwards and everything. And then we started texting, and today was the first time we saw each other again since then, actually…” She takes a deep breath there and laughs, as if relieved to have finally let it all out.
“This is amazing news. Absolutely fantastic news,” Chaeyeong beams. “How come you didn’t tell us sooner?”
“I really wanted to but I was scared I was making up a bunch of stuff in my mind and he still saw me as nothing more than his best friend’s sister. If it had been someone else I would’ve told you guys immediately, but I don’t know, I was already trying to wrap my head around the fact that I was starting to like this guy I’ve known my whole life, so I wasn’t ready to talk about it.”
If it had been someone else I would’ve told you guys immediately. You know that feeling all too well. It makes you think that you should just go ahead and tell Seeun about you and Heeseung, but after years of conditioning yourself that she could never find out about your crush on her brother, and now that you’re dating him, it’s not easy to just come out with it.
Your attention had drifted away from the conversation for a bit but you tune back in when Chaeyeong mentions college. “Plus, he goes to our state university, right? Just like us! That means you guys don’t have to worry about long distance, same for Heeseung and Y/N-” Chaeyeong’s eyes widen immediately when she realizes what she did.
“Heeseung and Y/N?” Seeun echoes, searching for your face in the rearview mirror.
Once more, you can thank your friend’s impeccable bullshitting abilities. “Oh, no, I just meant that even though she’s going to a different college than us, she’ll still know someone there. Not that they wouldn’t have to worry about long distance like you and Sunghoon.”
“Right,” Seeun answers, eyes still fixated on you in the mirror. An uncomfortable beat passes before she speaks again. “But is there… is there something happening between you and Heeseung, Y/N?”
You’d seen the question coming, but it still somehow manages to punch you in the stomach. Before you can even think of a way to tell your friend the truth in the most delicate way possible, your reflexes and old habits kick in. “No,” you simply reply, the lie coming to you way too easily. You hope she doesn’t notice the slight tremble in your voice - you’re definitely not as good a liar as Chaeyeong. “I mean, we’ve gotten closer this summer, but that’s about it.”
Chaeyeong stays silent, her eyes on the road. You’re less than a minute away from Seeun’s house, but you wish you could just get there already and have this conversation be over.
“Okay, if you say so,” she says, not sounding fully convinced. “But, you know, if there was, I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t be mad. A little weirded out, maybe, but not mad.” She’s looking at you so intently as she says this that you think she must know, otherwise she wouldn’t be saying all this. It’s like she’s asking you to just tell her, but still, you can’t bring yourself to do it. As if you’ve dug your own grave and have to lie in it.
Heeseung’s car is already in the driveway when you reach the Lees’ house, and he must have already gone up to his room because he isn’t in the kitchen or in the living room. You feel a slight pang of disappointment in your heart at the thought of not seeing him again tonight, even though it’s already so late, but you have a feeling you’ll stay up for hours thinking about his warm hands and his lips.
“Shower then food?” Seeun proposes when you’re all done taking your shoes off. You all nod and head up to her room. Just then, your phone buzzes with a text from Heeseung. Then another, and another, and the sound piques your friends’ interest.
“Who’s spamming you?” Chaeyeong asks, but she figures it out as soon as she sees the lovestruck smile on your face.
“Oh, just a groupchat I’m in,” you reply without looking up from your phone.
hee: Can you drop by my room?
hee: Find an excuse to leave and come and see me :D
hee: I want to see you.
hee: Oh sorry about the period I know you don’t like that
hee: I want to see you <;3
hee: !!!!!!!!!
hee: Please
you: be there in a min hee
you: i wanna see u too
hee: K
hee: :DDD
“Y/N, you wanna go first?” Seeun asks, snapping you out of it.
“Huh?”
“The shower. You wanna go first?” she repeats, amused by your sudden weird behavior.
“Oh, actually, um, I remembered my mom wanted to go to the farmers’ market at, like, nine tomorrow, so I should probably just sleep at home,” you say, which is actually true. You’ve never been so thankful for your mom’s love of organic and local produce. Thankfully, your friends also know about it, so they don’t question it at all and just wish you a good night.
Little do they know that you’re actually headed straight for Heeseung’s bedroom rather than your own. Normally, your paranoid brain would tell you that your friends, especially Seeun, might question why they didn’t hear the sound of the front door closing, but you doubt they’ll actually be paying attention to it.
You make a beeline for Heeseung’s room, not wanting to be caught by one of the girls as they go to the bathroom. Heeseung seems to be waiting for you, because you’ve barely knocked on his door and he’s already taking your hand, pulling you into his room.
It’s the first time you’ve been here since you were a kid, and you’re sure there’s many things on the walls and shelves to pick Heeseung’s brain about, any and every piece of himself interesting to you, but there’s one thing that stands out to you; it’s just the two of you in here. It makes your heart skip a beat in anticipation.
“Where’s Jake?”
Heeseung smiles shyly and looks down at your question. “I sort of, um, kicked him out.” You whip your head towards him at his words, looking at him with wide eyes. He chuckles. “I made him sleep over at Jay’s house. I really wanted to sneak you in here tonight.”
And just to make sure you really understand what he means by that, he fixes you with a look that can’t be misinterpreted. His eyes rake up and down your body as he approaches you, his smirk growing when he sees the obvious effect it has on you. He places his hands on your hips and he’s close enough for you to see how dilated his pupils are. He almost looks hungry, like he could just eat you whole, and it makes you weak in the knees. Heat rises to your face when you think about what must be going on in his head, especially since it’s probably not far from the thoughts that have been plaguing you for a while now. Unconsciously, you bring your legs closer together, and the way his eyes dip down then back up to your face with an arch of his brow like he knows what you’re thinking drives you slightly insane.
You don’t realize you’ve been staring at him until he tilts his head at you, an amused expression on his face. “What is it, doll?” he asks, but his tone makes you inclined to think he knows exactly what it is.
You also know, but you don’t know how to put it into words. So, instead, you take a step closer to him and wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face in the dip between his neck and shoulder. He smells like chlorine and something that’s entirely his, and you swear you’ve never smelled anything so intoxicating in your life. “Heeseung,” you murmur, voice muffled as your lips move against his skin.
“Yes?” he answers in that same amused, knowing tone. Your clear-mindedness starts to slip away from you as it often does when you’re near him.
When you repeat his name, this time more whiny as you wrap your arms tighter and bury your face deeper, he chuckles softly, a low, deep sound that sends electrifying shivers right down your spine. He places both hands on the sides of your face to make you lean back and look up at him. He can’t help but chuckle again at the pout on your lips, although your slightly hooded eyes make his stomach twist into the familiar tight knot of desire.
“I was gonna take a shower, if you’d like to join me,” he says, a glint of mischief playing in his eyes, and your own widening immediately at his words, or rather at the meaning behind them.
“A shower?!” you whisper-yell back.
He just laughs again and nods. “Mh-hm. We can keep our swimsuits on.” He looks down at you, at your eyes that are still wide, but now more out of anticipation than shock, at the way they seem to search for reassurance in his own. You seem to find what you’re looking for, because you nod.
“We just have to wait until Seeun and Chaeyeong are done, okay? I told Seeun to text me when the bathroom’s free.”
A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips when you nod again. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, then bends down to close the distance between the two of you, just as he’s done many times before, by pressing his lips to yours. He wants to tell you that he’s fine with whatever you want to do; that you can go as fast or as slow as you want; that no matter what, he’ll always be there to hold you and kiss you and call you pretty.
But he’s not the best with words, so he opts for kissing you gently instead, probably the slowest kiss you’ve ever shared, as if he's scared you might suddenly run away from him and he'll lose your warmth.
He’s never been as relieved as when he feels you not only reciprocating the kiss, but deepening it, asking for more when you start to whine into his mouth and slightly claw at his back. It takes everything in him to pull away from you, but there’s more comfortable ways to make out, including ones that don’t involve you bending your neck backwards trying to reach his lips, so he tugs at your hand for you to follow him. “C’mere,” he says, leading you to his bed. He sits on the edge, and, with a smile you can only describe as devilish, pats his lap for you to straddle.
You oblige immediately, of course, and even though you’ve done this many times before, it feels like the backseat of his car and his bed are worlds apart. It feels charged with an intimacy you two haven’t quite shared before, like you’re finally letting go of everything that might’ve been holding you back before and you’re now ready to take a step further together.
At least, that’s how you feel, but if the way he sighs into your mouth as soon as you press your lips to his, and the way his hands roam your back like trying not to leave an inch of your body untouched are anything to go by, then it seems like he feels the same way.
There’s a desperation to the kiss that makes your whole body feel like it’s on fire. Your hands quickly make their way to what seems their favorite place, Heeseung’s hair, and your fingers rake through it, gripping at the strands like you might float into space if you let go of him. His hands slowly make their way down your back until they reach your ass, sneaking underneath your loose shorts to grab at the skin underneath. He brings you closer to him, pressing you down onto his bulge, and it hits such a sweet spot between your thighs that you can’t fight back against the moan that makes its way out of your lips.
Heeseung is quick to shush you, and for some reason, it only makes the fire in your belly burn harder. “Shh, you have to be quiet, doll. Can you do that for me?” He continues to guide your movements against him, rubbing over that spot over and over again. Your forehead falls against his shoulder, and you know you can’t answer him, because if a sound comes out of mouth, it’ll be a moan, and not words.
But Heeseung isn’t happy with that. “Hm? I asked you a question, Y/N.”
What he is happy with is the whimper you let out at his words. “Y-yes, I’ll be quiet,” you breathe out like even saying a few words is too complicated for you.
“That’s a good girl,” he says, and even though you were already a mess before, these are the words that really do you in. With a small whine, you wrap your arms tight around his neck and bury your face where his jawline meets his ear, hoping that any sound coming from your mouth will be muffled there. You know there’s no point trying to kiss him right now; you won’t be able to focus on that and grind on him at the same time.
Truth be told, Heeseung has little to no idea what he’s doing. He’s never gotten this far with anyone before, and now that he’s assumed a more dominant position, since that’s what he’d gathered you’d like from your backseat sessions, he’s scared he might have made this a lot harder for him. He wants to do his best for you and guide you through what he knows are your first sexual or even romantic experiences, but the thing is, this is also the first time for him. It’s the first time he’s had this intense, almost ravaging craving to go further with someone, to touch and be touched and just cherish every single inch of someone’s body.
All he knows about sex, he’s gathered from porn, conversations with his guy friends, and Yunjin’s “spicy” romance novels. He has enough critical thinking skills to know that none of these are a hundred percent reliable sources, but he figured that the novels would be the closest to what women actually like.
He’d been scared sex and everything around it would be the most complicated puzzle he’d have to put together in his life. But in reality, he’s been relieved to find everything has come fairly easily. He just has to pay attention to the things you like; you like it when he takes the lead, so he does; you like it when he compliments you, so he does; you like it when he presses kisses all over your face and neck, so he does. He knows there’s still many things you like that he hasn’t found out about, but he’s more than eager to learn about each and every one of them. Apparently, you really like whatever it is the two of you are doing right now, so much so that he can feel your legs start to shake and can hear you containing your moans, so he keeps on doing it.
As for him? Well, he likes you. His biggest turn-on is seeing you turned on. Seeing your swollen lips and heavy eyelids after a make-out session, hearing your small moans and heavy breathing, feeling you rest your body against his and letting him make you feel good, like you’re doing right now, that’s what gets him going. He’s always so focused on your pleasure that he could almost forget about his own. So, it’s only when you announce through broken moans that you think you’re gonna cum that he realizes he’s dangerously close to finishing too. “That’s okay, baby, cum for me,” he coos, and that’s all you need to come undone.
He really wants to keep it in, really doesn’t want to jizz inside his pants like a highschooler, but it’s to no avail. In his defense, it’s really, really hard not to when you’re holding onto him like your life depends on it and when his name, sounding so pretty on your lips, is the only thing you can say as you cum against him. It’s something right out of a young Heeseung wet dream, and now that present-day Heeseung is actually experiencing it, he can say with pride that this is much better than a dream.
You both take a few seconds to come down from your highs, the first that you’ve shared together. It feels surreal. When you find the strength to lift your head and face Heeseung again, the look on his face is so hot, you think you might cum again from the sight alone. Hair sticking to his forehead, already-plump lips completely red, wet and swollen and curled up into a small smile. You press your foreheads together and laugh for no reason other than you couldn’t get happier than this. Your smile doesn’t leave your lips as you kiss him again. You’re only eighteen, but you don’t think life gets much better than this.
Then Heeseung’s phone dings with a text from Seeun: bathroom’s free. Heeseung looks at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes that wasn’t there a minute ago. “Wanna go get cleaned up?”
You giggle at his renewed eagerness and nod, letting him take your hand and guide you stealthily to the bathroom he and Seeun share. Thank God for locks.
Once inside, he lets go of your hand and turns on the mirror light rather than the bright, harsh overhead one, giving the room a more comfortable atmosphere. There’s a neck-scratching moment where neither you or Heeseung know what to do, your eyes darting nervously around the room, but it passes by when Heeseung turns around, quickly strips down to his swimming trunks once more and gets into the shower. He has his back next to you when he turns it on and finds his desired temperature, but he leaves the shower door open for you - you know he’s waiting for you to get in with him, but you’re stuck in place as you watch the water fall rapidly down his back and his muscles slightly shift out of relaxation.
You’d seen him half-naked and wet just an hour ago, and it’d already messed with your head, but this was so much worse. Maybe it was the heat slowly rising in the room, maybe it was the fact that you could join him at any moment and get to touch him, whatever it was, it was making it hard to breathe. You practically choke when he turns back around, facing you and smiling when he realizes you haven’t moved an inch.
“You’re not coming?” he asks quietly, and you know you can’t just stand and stare forever - you’ve done too much of that already. Your heart beats like crazy as you pull your sweatshirt over your head, then rid yourself of your shorts, because although he’d already seen you in your swimsuit, it’s nerve-wracking to undress right when you know he’s watching.
His smile hasn’t left his face when you step in and close the shower door, and he’s looking at you so intently that you have to focus on something other than his eyes, so you settle on his collarbones. Everything about him is pretty, you realize.
You suck in a breath when he places one of his hands on your waist, then the other, and makes you get under the water with him. It’s the perfect temperature for you, not too hot that it burns but just enough to make your skin tingle, and you wonder how many more of these small things you have in common.
“Y/N…” he says quietly, just loud enough for you to hear over the sound of the shower. You finally dare to meet his eyes. “Have I ever told you how pretty you are?” he asks with a smile, and just like that, you have to look away again, resting your forehead against his shoulder to hide your flustered expression from him. Receiving a compliment from Heeseung is one thing, being in the shower with him is another; both happening at the same time is too much for you to handle. Somehow cumming in his lap wasn’t enough to rid you completely of your shyness around him. He chuckles at your reaction and wraps an arm around your waist while his other hand caresses up and down your back.
“You have,” you manage to reply even though his touch is close to making your mind go blank.
“Well, let me say it again.” He bends down so that his mouth is right by your ear, lips tickling it when he speaks next. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
His words paired with his low voice make your core throb. You try not to gulp when he stands back up to his full height and smirks down at you - even though it’s impossible that he’s grown any taller in the last hour, it still feels like he towers over you much more than before.
He doesn’t say anything more, your reaction apparently enough to satisfy him, and he reaches behind you for the body wash. He squeezes a dollop of it into his palm, and you think he’ll clean himself up, so you let out a small ‘oh’ of surprise when his hands touch the area above your chest, then start to spread the gel all over your arms, back and stomach. You watch as he lowers himself to lather your legs in the product as well, and you’re not sure why the sight of Heeseung looking up at you from this position makes your heart flutter so much. The illusion is slightly broken, though, when he decides to press a kiss to your stomach but immediately regrets it. “Soap,” he simply says before rinsing his lips with the shower water.
You laugh and shake your head at him. “You’re so cute sometimes, you know that?” you say, the words tumbling out of your mouth naturally, and press your lips to his in a chaste kiss. When you lean back, Heeseung is staring right at you, stunned.
“I’m the one who does that,” he says, a light tone of protest to his voice.
“Does what?”
“Compliments you then kisses you,” he answers with a pout, but it only makes you laugh more.
You wrap your arms around him, pressing yourself flush against him and letting the water fall on top of your bodies. Before you can even comprehend the thought forming in your head at that moment, your lips betray you and words fall out of them against your will. “God, I love you so much.”
In the split second after you’ve said that, the realization hits you and your whole body stiffens. Slowly, your heart threatening to jump out of your chest, you lean back to see Heeseung’s reaction. He looks down at you in a mix of shock and pure, unfiltered happiness, eyebrows raised high but his smile reaches his ears. “You love me, huh?”
“Heeseung, I-”
“Good, because I love you too, Y/N.”
All the dread you felt rushes out of your body and is immediately replaced with relief. In the minute you’d realized you actually loved Heeseung and didn’t just have a big fat crush on him, you had the reassurance that he loved you, too. Life really can’t get any better than this.
Your lips find each other like second nature, but kissing is hard when you’re both so high on your confessions that you can’t stop giggling. You feel your whole body melt for him when he starts peppering kisses all over your face, saying “I love you” in between each peck.
You take his face in your hands to steady his head and kiss him on the lips, a deep, firm kiss that has him wrapping his arms tightly around you and bringing you close to him. It’s like a switch flips inside of him, and all his playfulness transforms into intensity, and suddenly all he can think about is your lips on his and your body against his. You try not to gulp at the feeling of his growing hardness pressed against your stomach. What you’d done on the bed earlier had opened up a whole new world of sensation for the both of you to discover, and you found that you were already craving it again.
There’s not much to be said in a situation like this; you both know what the other is thinking, it’s just a matter of who will act first. Usually, you’d rely on Heeseung to make the first move, or you’d do it yourself if you were feeling impatient; but right now, he seems to be enjoying making you squirm and taking his sweet time, hands roaming your back like he doesn’t know you’re desperate for more.
So you do what you’re usually too shy to do, and ask for what you want directly. “Heeseung, please,” you plead quietly against his lips, eyes shut tight as if in pain.
You can feel the smile that grows on his lips at your words. “Please, what?”
You take a shaky breath in and press wet kisses along his jawline before you answer. “Make me feel good, please.”
“Anything you want, doll.”
You can feel the blood pumping through your veins as you wait for whatever Heeseung will do next, but for some reason, he’s decided not to do anything in a hurry. He slows the kiss down as his fingers trail up and down your sides at snail’s pace, and you have half a mind to just tell him to hurry up already, but there’s something delicious about being on edge like this, desperately waiting for your release.
One of his hands then makes its way to your back, finding the string of your bikini top and playing with it. “Can I take this off?” he asks, voice barely audible over the sound of the water. As soon as you nod, he unties it and pulls the fabric away from your body, letting it drop at his feet and leaving your upper body completely naked for him. Your cheeks blaze under his fascinated eyes, but in that moment, his gaze really does make you feel like the prettiest girl in the world.
His other hand that had patiently rested on your waist makes its way up your front until it reaches your breasts.
You hadn’t even known your nipples were this sensitive until his palm brushes against one of them, making your body jolt of its own accord. Heeseung seems to like that reaction, so he starts playing with it more, twisting it lightly between his fingers, eliciting moans from you (that you try to keep down, still conscious of the fact that anyone in the house might hear you if you were too loud) and making your back arch involuntarily.
As his hand drifts to your other breast to pay your other nipple some well-deserved attention, you decide that Heeseung deserves as much attention as he’s giving you right now. Slowly, almost innocently, your hand snakes its way down his chest and abs to his trunks. You palm him over the fabric, hoping it makes him feel as good as his hand on your breast makes you feel. As his ministrations continue, your breathing gets shallower and shallower, but you’re glad to be having a similar effect on him - he rests his forehead against yours as a breathy moan escapes his lips, and you know you’re not doing as bad a job as you think you might be.
“Y/N,” he breathes out after a minute of this. You hum. “I think my self-control is starting to wear out,” he says, voice shaky as his hand makes its way down your side. His touch burns more than the scorching shower water.
“Good,” you simply reply, and press your lips to his. You can let go is what you’re trying to convey through your kiss as it turns hungrier, needier, more impatient.
Apparently he gets the message, because he’s quick to push you against the shower wall, left hand behind your head and the other holding on tight to your hip. He presses himself against you, letting you know just how much he wants you, and you can’t help the whimper that escapes your lips. This seems to spur him on - so slowly it hurts, his hand makes its way from your hips to the front of your panties. You’ve been waiting for this for so long that you feel like you might come undone right away when he’s barely even touched you.
You let out an involuntary moan when he presses his palm against your clothed sex, but he’s quick to shut you up with a kiss. He continues such ministrations for a bit, unhurriedly rubbing two fingers up and down your core. If he’s going slow so as not to overwhelm you, it doesn't work - you can already feel a familiar knot twisting in your stomach. You can’t even kiss him back anymore, too caught up in the feeling of his hand touching you exactly where you need him, so he settles on kissing your face and your neck.
You swear a little bit of your soul actually leaves your body when he slips his hand underneath your bikini. He trails two fingers up along your slit, watching your face intently in the hopes that your reaction will tell him when he’s found your sensitive spot. You’ve never felt anything other than your own fingers there, and the sensation is breathtaking, especially when he starts rubbing small circles right onto your clit.
“Let me know if it feels good, okay? I’ve never actually done this before,” he admits with a small chuckle. Your eyes shoot open and you grab onto his forearm, making him halt his motions as panic bubbles inside him. “What? Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”
“You’ve never done this before?” you echo his words back at him like there’s no way they might be true.
He smiles shyly and looks away, an odd mix of shame and pride at your reaction. “No, I haven’t.”
“Wow,” you breathe out, disbelieving. “You seem to know exactly what you’re doing, this whole time, I thought you were like, a sex expert or something.”
He laughs again and quickly resumes his previous actions, and any surprise you might have felt at his confession is thrown out the window when his fingers move against your clit again. “I promise you I’m making it up as I go.”
“You’re amazing,” you reply.
You can feel yourself getting wetter by the second, Heeseung’s fingers going at the perfect speed and putting the exact right amount of your pressure against you like he’s done this his whole life. “Am I making you feel good?” he asks, a rhetorical question that he has to know the answer to considering your body’s reaction to him, but you still do him the favor of answering.
“You are. Feels so, so good, Hee,” you sigh as his fingers leave your clit and start to tease at your entrance. Heeseung sighs, too, but more out of exasperation than out of pleasure.
“Let’s get rid of this, hm?” he offers, already pulling your swimming bottoms down your legs and discarding them next to your top. “It’ll be easier like this,” he says, and before you know it, he’s pushed a finger inside you, and you let out the loudest moan you have all night at the feeling.
Heeseung chuckles as he shushes you gently. “Quiet, baby, okay? I know it feels good, but we don’t want to wake anyone up, now, do we?”
You shake your head fervently at his words, but in a twisted way, you care more about your current pleasure than about anyone catching you and Heeseung in the middle of the act. He curls his finger inside you, brushing right against that spot that has you seeing stars, and you let your body grow heavy, trusting him to hold you up when your legs stop working. As if one wasn’t enough, he adds a second finger, thrusting them inside you at an increasing pace that has your thighs shaking sooner than you’d like to admit.
“H-heeseung, oh my God,” you murmur, and that’s somehow enough for Heeseung to understand.
“Gonna cum, doll?”
You barely manage to answer him, your second high of the night approaching faster than you expect it to. Fingers still inside you, Heeseung brings his thumb to rub against your clit again, and five seconds later, you’re cumming all over his hands, body shaking against him and holding onto him throughout it all. You try to be as quiet as possible, and Heeseung presses his lips against yours to stifle any sound, but a few whimpers and broken moans still escape your lips.
When he’s slipped his fingers out of you, you hug him tightly, taking a few seconds to regain your breath as you come down from your high. “You did so well, baby,” Heeseung praises, lips moving against your temple before he presses a kiss there, and his words alone make you whine again.
As soon as your sanity has somehow made its way back into your head, you remember your boyfriend’s pleasure and you press your hand against his bulge once more. He lets out a shaky breath as you start to rub your hand up and down his shaft over his swimming trunks. “You don’t have to,” he says quietly, eyes screwed shut in pleasure.
“I want to,” you reassure, dipping your fingers under the waistband of his trunks so he gets the message. When he takes them off, his fully hard dick slaps against his stomach, and even though you haven’t seen a great amount of dicks in your life, you recognize a big dick when you see one.
It’s always the nerdy, lanky ones.
As you take him in your hand, you look up at him with a sheepish smile. “I’ve never done this, so tell me if it feels good, yeah?”
He takes a deep breath as if trying to steady himself, but his eyes stay closed. “It already feels better than anything you could imagine, baby.”
“But I’m not doing anything,” you say, slightly confused.
“Still.”
You chuckle, and Heeseung almost joins in, but any laughter is ripped from his throat as your hand, formed in a fist loosely gripping him, makes its way down his shaft, then back up. It’s a clumsy motion, and he can tell you’re doing this for the first time, but it drives him crazy anyway. The sole fact that it’s you touching him is enough to turn him into a whimpering mess.
He has to keep himself from moaning loudly and waking up the whole house when your palm brushes against his tip, but thankfully, you notice his reaction right away. As you continue jerking him off, you make sure to pay particular attention to his tip, sweeping your thumb over it every time your hand reaches it. Fascinated, you watch the rise and fall of Heeseung’s chest, the clench of his abs, and the way his beautiful pink lips part, and listen intently to any sound that might come out of them. He’s much less chatty than before, and you can’t help but ask for reassurance from him. “Does it feel good, Hee?”
The worried tone in your voice makes his eyes flicker open. “Of course, baby. Feels amazing,” he answers with a breathless chuckle. You beam at him, and the contrast between your innocent, happy expression and the motions of your hand actually makes him see double until he closes his eyes again.
You press yourself closer to him so you can leave kisses all over his neck, paying particular attention to his Adam’s apple that you know is sensitive. You’re so close that you can feel your own hand against your stomach as you fist it up and down his shaft, slowly picking up speed. You bite down against his neck, not hard enough to leave a mark but definitely hard enough to garner a moan from him, and he can feel his orgasm is mere moments away by now.
“Wanna make you feel as good as you made me feel,” you whisper before pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Love you so much, Hee,” you say, your voice almost a moan, and that’s what drives him over the edge. Knowing that you love him.
He spills his seed all over your hand and stomach with a choked moan and finds your lips to trap them in a feverish kiss. Just like before, the immediate reaction for the both of you is to laugh; coming down from your high and helping the other reach theirs make you feel like you’re on top of the world. You help rinse each other and you spend another five minutes shampooing the other’s hair to get the chlorine out of it, but after that, you’re out of the shower, realizing that your hands and feet have started pruning after what could have been anything between twenty minutes and two hours in the shower.
No matter how many times you tell him you can do it yourself, Heeseung insists on helping you dry off, making sure there’s not a droplet of water on your body before you head back to his room together, just as stealthily as you’d come earlier. You really hoped the sound of the shower was enough to cover any sound you made and that everyone was sleeping too deeply to realize how much time you’d spent in there anyway.
Heeseung quickly puts on clean underwear before getting into bed, then watches you with a lazy smile as you put your panties, shorts and tank top back on. “What are you staring at?” you grumble because even after everything, his intent stare makes you shy.
“You.”
You should have expected it, but it still makes your heart flutter. You can’t even pretend to be annoyed, not bothering to hide your grin as you get into bed with him, snuggling up to him and sighing in contentment at the feeling of his warmth against you. You’d daydreamed one too many times dreaming about what it must feel like falling asleep next to Heeseung, or even better, in his arms, and it was finally happening. You rest your head against his chest, listening to his calming heartbeat while his fingers rake through your hair in a soothing manner.
“I’m spent,” you murmur against his skin. “I think I’m gonna fall asleep in two seconds.”
“Me too,” he chuckles, then presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Sleep, baby. We’ll talk more in the morning.”
“Okay,” you whisper, nuzzling yourself closer against him and letting sleep wash over your tired body.
--
You wish you could say that you wake up the next morning because of the sunlight pouring on your face or because of Heeseung peppering your face with kisses and awaking you, but really, it’s just your 8 a.m. alarm reminding you you have to go to the market with your mom. The sound jolts you awake, like someone just poured a bucket of cold water over you. You and Heeseung have somehow barely budged from the position you fell asleep in and you want nothing more than to stay there for a couple more hours, but a promise is a promise, so with a sigh, you start to sit up.
When Heeseung feels your body shift away from his, his arm tightens its hold around your waist almost out of its own accord, pulling you back to him. “Just five more minutes,” he pleads, voice slightly whiny and still dripping with sleep that makes butterflies erupt all over your stomach. You give in immediately.
“Just five,” you repeat, and he hums in satisfaction.
But five turns into ten turns into twenty, and when your alarm rings again, it’s already thirty past eight, and you only have fifteen minutes to go home and get ready before your mom will want to leave.
You sigh and, once again, start to pry your limbs away from Heeseung’s, but, once again, he stops you before you can get off the bed, hand coming to grab your wrist gently. You sit up and smile affectionately down at him, brushing away the hair that had fallen in front of his eyes during the night. He blinks his eyes open but can only look at you for a few seconds before he shuts them again, trying to hide his flustered expression under his forearm, but you can still make out his smile and the growing blush on his cheeks.
“What?” you ask quietly in the silence of the room, chuckling at your boyfriend’s cuteness.
“I just remembered last night,” he says, letting his forearm fall away from his face so he can see your reaction.
Your smile grows and you continue to play with his hair as images of last night flood your mind, a sort of fluster enveloping your whole body and making you feel light. You bend over to press soft kisses to his forehead, to his cheek, and then to his lips before burying your face in the crook of his neck. His hand comes up naturally to your back, slipping under the thin fabric to graze his fingernails across your exposed skin.
“Last night was amazing, Hee. Thank you so much,” you whisper, trying not to get carried away by the feeling of his caresses.
“The pleasure’s all mine,” he replies, kissing the top of your head and burying his nose there to inhale the scent of your hair.
You count down from ten, and on zero, you sigh, pushing yourself from Heeseung for good this time. “Okay, I really have to go now.” He sits up with you, fixing you with a pout, but you won’t let him use his cuteness against you and trick you into staying. “I’ll text you when I’m done, okay?”
“Okay. I’ll walk you downstairs.” When he sees you about to protest, he puts on his best smile, akin to one that an athlete would wear after winning first place. “I wanna kiss you goodbye.”
You roll your eyes but your smile makes it obvious how delighted you are that he wants to be with you ‘til the very last second. You gather your stuff and head into the hallway. You know his parents are already at work, and even though Chaeyeong and Seeun usually sleep in until much later than now, you still want to make sure they’re asleep. You gesture at Heeseung to be quiet as you peer inside Seeun’s room quickly and quietly - if they wake up, you can just say you forgot something yesterday and came back to get it quickly, and if they don’t, you’re pretty safe to escape without getting caught.
When they don’t budge an inch, you close her door again and head down the stairs to the entrance where your shoes lay. You check your phone and realize with dread that your mom’s not going to be very happy with you, but you don’t have it in you to push Heeseung away when he insists on helping you into your shoes (they’re slip-ons) and when he wraps his arm around your middle, bringing you in for another kiss. You let yourself melt under his touch - it’s not like thirty seconds will make much of a difference now that you’re already late anyway.
“You do know that if we’re caught kissing here, we’re dead?” you breathe, pulling away slightly from Heeseung to speak. You’re still so close that you feel his lips move against yours as they curl up into a smirk.
“I know, but I wanna risk it.” And just like that, his lips are back on yours, and all other thoughts are blown away like feathers in the wind.
It’s almost dangerous how you can’t think of anything else when you’re this close to Heeseung. How his scent, his warmth, the feel of his skin and his hair under your hands fill your mind up to the brim. It’s dangerous because it’s precisely in moments like these that you should think before you act, before you let yourself be consumed by him. And it’s moments like these that you look back on later and curse yourself for being so foolish.
“Heeseung? Y/N?”
Alarm fills your body as soon as you hear Seeun’s shaky voice calling out your names. She looks down at you from the stairwell, shock evident on her face and her eyes immediately welling up with tears. Your hands let go of Heeseung’s t-shirt and your arms fall limp at your sides, but other than that, you’re frozen in place. You watch as Seeun’s eyes dart between you and Heeseung and as she realizes that you’ve been hiding something big from her; that you even lied straight to her face.
It’s only when a sob escapes her lips and she whips around, heading back upstairs to her room, that you snap out of it. You immediately go to follow her, but Heeseung calls out your name as his hand reaches out to grab your wrist. You look down at where your bodies touch, and your gazes lock just as the sound Seeun’s door slamming shut reverberates through the house.
“I have to talk to her,” you whisper as you wrench your wrist away from Heeseung’s hold.
You walk away and leave him behind.
permanent taglist: @zreamy @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts @moonlighthoon @4imhry @rikisly @loves0ft @iamliacamila @theboingsuckerasseater9000 (ask to be removed/added!)
series taglist: @doll4hoon @jakelux @pshchives @hoonslutt @jainandan @enhastolemyheart @mymeloem19 @qkxaya @pussymastere @jak3sgf
© asahicore on Tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works. feedback and reblogs always appreciated!
#enhypen x reader#heeseung x reader#enhypen smut#heeseung smut#enhypen fluff#heeseung fluff#enhypen scenarios#heeseung scenarios
901 notes
·
View notes
Note
HELLO, HELLO! Okay, so this drabble prompt/idea is kinda sorta in the vein of Querido (I only think about Old Western Miguel now I cannot help it pls forgive me head empty only man and hörse), so pls skip if you're not inspired or in the mood for more in this genre!
Still, I offer you this: Sheriff Miguel.
He's someone all the women have their eyes on, and he'd have his eyes on them, too, if he were younger. But he has a baby girl to worry about, a runaway wife to forget, and a town to keep an eye on, especially when a woman from the big city pays the little down a visit.
He meets her when he loses Gabriella in the market's crowd, only to find her tugging on a fine dress belonging to a fine woman.
(P.S. reading your writing has inspired me to get back into writing my own reader insert stuff 💖 really love your work, keep it up!!)
bumblebee | sheriff!miguel x dressmaker!reader
❛ pairing | sheriff-singleparent!miguel o'hara x dressmaker!reader
❛ type | extended drabble, not-explicit, wc: 2600ish
❛ summary | miguel loses his daughter-- and finds a part of himself he thought was long past dead.
❛ tags | self-edited, querido au, f!reader, sheriff!miguel, dressmaker!reader, implied parental abandonment, some mention of thievery, widowed!reader, mostly fluff, some mention of death, spanish not translated.
❛ sy's notes | i intended this to be a drabble but... it's quite a bit longer. anon, i hope you end up writing to your heart's content.
Miguel ain’t the kinda man women really need. He’s the kinda man they think they want. A big man with a big name, sure, but he’s saddled with what their fathers colloquially call baggage. A little three-year-old girl with ambitions of rolling on out of this little town by rolling on out of his fingertips.
“Oye, Gwen,” he catches the arm of his deputy. She’s out on the town just as he was, making rounds about the grassy plain where the market was booming. With too few stalls, the marketgoers visit full wooden wagons chock-full of goods. This year, there were new boxes of small circular chocolates. Once every year, his quiet little town became a bustling fuck fest with foreigners running a muck of it all. As sheriff, he just had to deal with it.
“What’s it, sheriff?” she asks. “Something wrong?”
“You seen my littlin anywhere? Swore she was right here.”
This is his penance for fooling around with the hearts of pretty women: chasing him his own little girl and minding the crowd. His long, slicked-back hair was all kinds of out of place, whirling over his wrinkled forehead. He shoves a strand of grey hair back in place out of his dark eyes and scans his little town. She could’ve slipped into any creaky old building that wasn't locked up or hitched a ride on a wagon she didn’t belong on. Or, alternatively…
“Miguel! Rio saw her by the sweets.” Former Sherriff Morales tells him, standing by his son’s stall of sweet roasted corn. Ordinarily, he’d give it a begrudging visit. Miguel whirls around on his muddy leather boots, throwing him a nod of thanks with Gwen short on his tail.
“Sounds promisin’,” she says. “Could be searchin’ for Lyla or Peter.”
“Thank you for the help, Sheriff,” he grumbled, shoving his way past a sea of cream, brown, and black dresses. Gwen could spider her way through the groups of people with her comparatively slender frame. As a consequence of Miguel’s hulking frame, he’s markedly slower in his search.
“Ain’t here either,” Gwen hops back to his side. “You sure she wandered off?”
"She had to."
The alternative was… well, he didn't want to think about it. Out of his periphery, he caught the glimmer of polished metal. He spots his daughter’s peachy dress, bundled up with a fat white bow complete with a bell. He put the thing on thinking that, ideally, his little girl would jingle up some hell of noise if she got lost. Some good that bell did.
“You lost mi amor?”
Lost. The word stands out to him first, all dressed up in a sugar cube of a voice. His Gabriella tugs on a stranger’s long gown, eyes pricked with tears streaming down her cheeks. Of all the people-- she couldn’t just pick on someone she knew? Head to Rio’s hostel, find Deputy Gwen stalking around, or even Hobie’s bum ass strumming a tune on the old stage. No, she’s with a strange woman.
“Now don’t you cry,” you dab away the stray tears with an embroidered handkerchief. “I’ll find you home.”
You’re not from here because you’re all done up like a buttercup in spring when the women here only broke out color for church. Corset sucking in the finest assets, a buttercream bustle underneath that buttercup yellow skirt. Hair up in a waterfall of curls and covered by a small slouched hat of flowers. You held a parasol for the evening sun, keeping it off your tanned skin.
“There,” Miguel set his hands on his hips, catching his head in a shake. Gwen leans over on the ball of her feet and stares straight down the barrel of a path.
“My my,” she says. “Ain’t she a looker. Why are you-- You look good, Miguel.”
She’s caught on his frantic fiddling. The way Miguel straightens his tie into his waistcoat and checks the chain that drapes along his side. He checks the time on his cracked pocketwatch and spins it between his fingers. Gwen leans up to flick a stray strand of hair away from his face.
“Think so?”
“Entirely presentable.”
"¿De veras?" Miguel clears his throat, “Best be on my way to get her.” Miguel loops his fingers on his fine leather belt and waltzes right on up to your stall of hand-sewn dresses.
For once in his life, he feels underdressed. A man sets some coins in your hand, plucking up a small communion dress for his daughter. With ruffles, lace, and the occasional ribbon. He’s not sure how much luck you’d have selling more than scraps of ribbon in this little town. You set the coins aside, turning your attention back to his daughter who-- somehow, got a brand new ribbon bundled in her ponytail between his fiddling and the walk over.
“Buenas tardes,” he clears his throat, whipping out his metal badge. “I’m Sherriff O’Hara.”
“Encantada, Sheriff O’Hara. You’re looking as pretty as a penny this fine afternoon. Can’t be wanting any of my dresses. My name is… well, how can I help you?”
“Papa,” Gabriella coos as if this whole mess wasn’t on her tiny little shoulders. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad, not yet.
“Yes, mami, Sheriff O’Hara. Do you know old Sheriff O’Hara?” Miguel suppresses his delight as you lift her up onto your hip. Most days, he didn’t notice his own melancholy. Coming home to his little girl soothed all that like a good helping of booze after a bad wound. “She likes you.”
You sure talk pretty. He clears his throat, pulling on the sloppy tie that feels a whole lot hotter all of a sudden. He shouldn't be acting like this. Has it really been that long since he’s been with a girl? He couldn't go to the saloon and pick any one of those lovesick girls. The town wouldn’t continually elect a loose man. Miguel’s eyes catch the flickering gold of a bumblebee locket on your chest. He traces the curve of its wings, wrapping around a crusted gem.
“‘Course she does, she’s my girl. I lost Gabi up in the crowd flow.”
“You lost her? You can’t tell me you’re the kinda man that does it all. Where is your wife?”
Where is your wife? The question tormented him. He could do it all. Managing the sloppy, slow thieves and putting down the occasional drunken brawl. At the end of the night, he came home to his empty home and saw his little girl. Miguel’s gaze danced along the puffy clouds in the sky. The fluffy clouds drift the same as usual, the same old slow draw, unknowledgeable about the change in his life. He suppresses the distant melancholy in his voice in surfacing old memories.
“Ain’t got a wife. She ran off on me with some wolf. Usually, I got a sitter for my girl but, she came down with a fever.”
“A wolf?” you repeat after him, “Why, you mean a gentleman?”
A gentleman, he scoffs under his breath.
“If you wanna call him that. He was an outlaw.”
“I’m mighty sorry, Sheriff.” You looked at the little girl in your arms. Gabriella’s small fingers fiddle with the glimmering gold pendant on your chest. He throws her a look-- behave. She’s not paying attention one bit. You set your parasol down, freeing the necklace and setting it in her tiny fist. “I’m a whole widow myself. Lost my man in the war and never got the chance to have one’a my own.”
“You don’t say. You on the market?”
“On the market like cattle?” you teased. If he’s not mistaken, that shy smile of yours was all his. Maybe you like him. It's a signal that he could keep going.
“Coño, no. You’re too fine for that,” the words are buttery smooth, but upon discovering how the words may come off, he realizes he might be sliding into a trap on the back of those words. Your lips are slightly agape, half in shock. “Pretty. You’re too pretty.”
“Oh, Sheriff, don’t worry your head,” you adjust Gabriella on your hip, swaying in place like it was natural. “I ain’t one to take offense to pretty words. Suppose you want your niña back?”
There went his chance.
"That'd be best," he slides his hands underneath Gabriella’s tiny arms to pick her up. The pendant she held clattered free from her grip, nestled in the deep grass. You were about to pick it up when a scrawny thing of a man swiped it from the grass. For an instant, Miguel thought it might be Pavi, who loved to be helpful in the most annoying ways. Catching doors even when it's men, dropping his scarf on mud for girls, a charming and shy kid. It isn’t, though, it’s that weasel he seems to be throwing in the pin every damn week, bolting off in a full-on run.
“Ay, not my locket!” you gasped, plucking your skirts over your boots.
“Maldito niño--” Miguel stops you, sliding Gabriella back into your arms. Not that she was complaining, tiny hands slapping together in a rendition of applause as Miguel darted after him, his booming steps beating the ground. “Get back here, kid!”
“Dios, you sure have a busy papa. I'm sure he’ll back in two shakes of a lamb's tail.” You looked between the little girl nestled comfortably in your arms and the parting sea of the crowd. Gwen zooms past, eliciting another round of jovial laughter from Gabriella O’Hara. She does love a good game.
It ain’t that Miguel wants to leave his girl with any old fool that waltzed on into his town. But he knows his community, knows they’d not leave him out to dry, and knows that taking his daughter on a town-wide chase with a skinny little weasel around town is not the move. Especially not if he has a gun, which he did, because of course he did. Now, the man has a jail cell and Miguel has a crook in his neck from where the buffoon fell through the crooked second floor of the post office.
He works the sore muscle the whole way back to your wagon. It’s high time for eating. His stomach was raging after the scent of someone’s pulled pork, the roasted sweetness of corn. If we wanted to be presentable then, he sure wasn’t now. Dust was a second skin on his pants and aged boots. He walks past the platform where Hobie plays a tune with his banda. Most vendors were wrapping right on up for some proper debauchery.
He finds you there, swaying to the beat of the music with Gabriella hanging in your arms. Her tiny hands were around an ear of elote already. Guess she extorted a snack out of you.
“One gold locket,” Miguel heaves out the words as he digs in his pocket, whirling the golden chain into your small hand. You flip it over once, then twice, examining it for any defects. “Better to keep that tucked away out here. Puts a target on your back right quick.”
“Muchísimas gracias, sheriff. You're a sweetheart,” you reach out, grazing his scratchy cheek with your supple lips. Gabriella is flatly squished between his sweaty chest and yours. She’s fallen asleep flat against your chest. “You don’t know how much this necklace means to me.”
There are whispers from the women he’s turned down. The viejitas who have been trying to set him up for a full-on year now, those who told him he needed to find a girl as soon as possible to marry. He didn’t want to. Not unless it made sense.
“Yes, well, you could tell me,” Miguel finally picks his daughter from your arms. She’s out like a light. “If you want.”
“It was my mami's, once upon a time. She gave it to me on my wedding day," you explain. "It's all I got left of her. I wonder what she'd think of me these days, travelin' town to town like I got secrets."
"You ever think of settlin' down again?" He turns his gaze past Hobie’s banda, to the yellowing sky. The sun is setting out over the horizon, casting warm orange and soft pink into the air. The road is full of wagons. The clip-clop of horses running their way to the next town, some checked in to the hostel.
"A veces," you explain. "If it feels right, I think I will."
"Yeah?" He settles on the bed of your wagon. The dresses were packaged and kept in locked chests, kept away from the bed of the wagon where your blanket was. Most of the foreigners have left, but you. He doesn’t have to guess to know that it was his fault. “You off to Rio’s hostel?”
“‘fraid I’m out of town,” you smiled at him. “She ain’t got any rooms. Next city over might.”
“Stay with me,” he says. “The night. Bit too late to get robbed on the road with all them pretty dresses you make. Wouldn’t be right to be sheriff and let a young thing out there without company. Some'a them outlaws take wives that way, y'know.”
“Oh, Sheriff O’Hara, ain’t no one care about widows on the road,” your hand finds your chest. It’s said with a laugh, as though someone, somewhere, made you feel less than. It wasn’t going to be Miguel.
"Ain't a widow if you're carried off." He reclines, watching the figures of couples dancing to whatever the hell Hobie was playing on his guitar. His eyes track over Hobie’s gloved fingers that prance across the strings, waiting for you to walk back on that stupid comment. You do, snapping out a fan in the waist of your heavy dress to fan yourself.
“You really sure? I don’t mean to be a burden. I’m sure you got better to do than take care of company.”
“You took care of my girl. Least I could do. Long as you go to church in the morning.”
“Oh, now he’s askin’ me to church. When’s the wedding, Sherriff?”
“Miguel. Soon as you want it,” he returns, half a smile pulling at a normally closed-off face. Miguel turns to set his Gabi down on your blanket, throwing you a look for permission. You nod, watching her roll on the wool thing, setting her hands under her cheek until she gets into a position that isn’t as bad as laying on her back. He tucks her hair back over the shell of her ear, exhaling a breath. Somewhere between his ex-wife’s flight from the town and today, she began to look more and more like him. He’s thankful for that. He doesn’t need more memories of her. Only needed to get through each day, and make the next better than the one before.
“She’s tuckered out,” you lean down, just by his face. “All that escapin’ papa work.”
“Si,” Miguel hums as he massages his sore shoulder. “Tell me about it. I’m getting too old for this.”
He lifts his head from his daughter’s tiny body, reminded of all the times someone told him to get married. If not the women chasing him around his jail at all hours of the day, then the women at church who, at the moment, were gossiping away. He could hear the prattle already: sheriff likes rich girls. The type to have a golden locket and French silk. The luxury of hopping from town to town like some no-good woman. He’d wager, your husband ain’t had the money to take care of you but for these light luxuries. Traveling town to town wasn't no small feat.
Tch. He’d deal with it tomorrow when he took you to church. Scandalous as that was.
“Fancy a dance?” he offered up his hand.
You remove your gloves, skin is soft and supple against his, only marred by the pricks of a needle. Your gloved fingers grazed his scarred palm, tracing the long strike that marred his open palm. There’s a thought there, just behind the reach of your playful eyes. He couldn’t quite reach it.
“I’d love to, Miguel.”
Something tells him he has time to.
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara/reader#miggy x reader#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara fic#miguel o'hara drabble#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara x you#spiderman imagine#spiderman imagines#spiderman fic#spiderman 2099 x reader
210 notes
·
View notes
Text
i’ve been sitting on my thoughts for so long but i just have to get this off my chest. i don’t like to yuck ppls yum so if you like e/riel pls scroll away nd keep having your fun it’s not my problem. however some of y’all can get mean as HELL and as an elucien i have to get this off my chest. (also warning for gwynriels i’m with y’all i defend y’all here however i do go in a bit on az in this so fair warning). i truly have no idea why e/riels cling so hard to the azriel bonus chapter in acosf because that chapter, more than literally anything else in the series, proved to me that e/riel is absolutely NOT going to be endgame. let me explain:
1. it is explicitly stated that azriel did not think of his relationship with elain outside of a sexual nature. i think some ppl get kinda annoyingly puritanical when trying to make this point when it’s like 100% certain lucien had sexual thoughts of elain too. the point isn’t the thoughts themselves. the difference here is the explicit mention that he didn’t consider anything with her outside of that.
2. the point above ^ is further exacerbated by the fact that az did not give a flying fuck if he killed elain’s MATE. even if elain hasn’t accepted the bond, it would still be extremely painful for her based on what we’ve seen with rhys, feyre, and even rhys’s parents (who weren’t good for each other, yet we saw how rhys’s dad lost it when she died). now of course us lucien lovers know damn well he would never in a million years call a blood duel to try to claim elain (and fuck u rhys for saying that, i usually have your back but come ON you are not the only male who can respect their mate’s autonomy). but az doesn’t know that!? in fact seems to agree with rhys that he could. ppl argue on who would win that fight — my opinion hinges 100% on if powers are fully unleashed but that’s not the point at all. no matter WHO wins, elain is going to feel responsible for someone’s death. of course it wouldn’t be her fault if men decided to be fucking stupid, but with the little we know about elain shows that she would feel so guilty if that happened. but azriel doesn’t seem to give af that anyone fighting to the death over her is the last thing she would ever want. not only did az not think of elain outside his fantasies and therefore not fully care for her, but he doesn’t seem to even KNOW elain in this chapter. now, i could go in on this in acosf as a whole. but i’m keeping it to this chapter alone.
3. and further on THAT point, az doesn’t really give any reasoning on his interest in elain outside of this insane “three brothers/three sisters” thing he fully pulled out of his ass. tbh i almost thing this is sjm’s way of addressing the fan theories on that. now i get it to some extent from az’s pov — seeing his brothers happy with these sisters must fuck with your head after you’d all been bachelors together for 500 years. especially considering how he’s felt unworthy of love his whole life and this seems to support that insecurity of his. i get that it makes him feel ostracized from them, and that he’s now an outlier not being with an archeron. i get that. i do. i sympathize with him here. however that does not change the fact that he isn’t speaking of elain like she’s her own individual here — hell he fully calls her “the other”. i think part of this conversation was him being frazzled, i give him a bit more grace than some do (tho he pissed me off BAD in this scene), but we were fully in this man’s head. did he give us a full reason why he liked elain besides his brother’s mates and his sexual thoughts?? they would’ve at least crossed his mind when rhys was grilling them if sjm was trying to set up her next romance here. as it is, we have literally nothing to imply azriel actually likes elain herself and not the idea of being closer with his brothers.
4. az has kinda a habit of ignoring the reality of the women he’s attracted to in some way. he has his own version of them in his head that he puts on a pedestal. now i could do a whole psych eval on this man and how he thinks he’s unworthy of love and therefore only allows himself to have feelings for women he knows/thinks he can’t have. but to focus on this chapter alone, my points above ^ about how he doesn’t really think of elain outside his fantasies/bringing him closer to his brothers and not really understanding her pretty much wraps it up there. i mean he even talks about how he thinks his scarred hands don’t belong on her because she’s so perfect in his eyes. that’s not love, that’s obsession and it’s unhealthy. he clearly thinks himself below elain and ignores that she has her own flaws too.
5. aaaand i saved the biggest for (almost) last….. GWYN. this is a genuine GENUINE question. why in the fucking hell. would sjm make half the chapter focusing on az & gwyn if she was teasing e/riel. like that makes no sense. not to be annoying and mention chekhov's gun but that idea applies to relationships too. i’m sorry but she couldn’t be more explicit about her future romances. you could argue “oh well it’s because there’s gonna be a love triangle”. y’all. elain has. elain has a mate. there already IS a love triangle. there was absolutely no reason for her to bring gwyn into this chapter other than her preparing us for a future relationship, literally none. especially with all the romantic subtext (hell not even subtext, just TEXT). gwyn getting him to talk about himself so easily when he’s so quiet usually, him taking the idea of making her happy and he “buried the image down deep, where it GLOWED QUIETLY” (which SCREAMS mating bond to me but even if it’s not it’s clearly something he cherishes deeply), the SHADOWSINGERS SHADOWS SANG FOR HER!?
6. the fucking necklace regifting. oh it’s bad. OHHH ITS BAD. when the girls realize it’s gonna be SO messy but im hoping sjm doesn’t go the stupid cat fight route bc neither of them did anything wrong. az did. i’m sorry i’m dunking on him so much in this post i rlly don’t hate him i just think he needs like decades of therapy (which tbf don’t we all) which i unfortunately don’t think sjm is going to give him before giving him his romance. but even the biggest azriel lovers have to admit that this was insanity. a few points on it here. first, if it’s so easily regiftable then it couldn’t have been that well thought out in regards to elain. say what you will about lucien’s gifts, even argue that he gave her jewelry too. but elain was actually shown wearing pearls. az’s gift seemed shallow to me — it was something pretty, and elain’s pretty, and it had a flower, and elain gardens. it’s clear lucien put SO much more thought into his gifts, whether he succeeded or not (which i need to remind y’all — we still don’t know. maybe she liked the gifts maybe she didn’t, but regardless she acted the way she did bc of her feelings about the bond, not the gift). and azriel has spent so much more time with elain than lucien has. if that necklace really felt like elain to him, he could’ve kept it or returned it. but nope. buddy gave it to a whole other girl bc he could easily associate it with someone else. he clearly felt some special pull towards gwyn too, going out of his way to give it to her. he had ONE meaningful conversation with her. i already discussed the quote earlier that makes me think mating bond personally. but no matter what, him giving her the same gift he gave someone he was pursuing romantically is a clear sign of what’s to come (and probably a setup for some sort of drama that i don’t think im mentally ready for).
so there we have it! why i think that the bonus chapter thoroughly proves that e/riel is not going to be endgame. i honestly think it’s possible they might be a thing for a minute (tho i could also see this being the closing of that chapter), but i don’t think it’s going to last. sjm just gave us too many blatant hints that elain and az would NOT work together long term, and that azriel in particular is more suited for someone else. i might’ve missed some points bc there is SO much that goes down in this tiny chapter so lmk if there’s other stuff you picked up on!
#elucien#gwynriel#acotar#acosf#acosf bonus chapter#elain archeron#pro elucien#pro gwynriel#gwyneth berdara#azriel#anti e/riel#lucien vanserra#elain x lucien#gwyn x azriel
134 notes
·
View notes
Note
all my self-dignity leaves once incel!charlie is brought up pls bring him back ):
I'm so bad at writing about incel behaviors in a relationship, so here's him being a perv before you two start dating.
/Fem reader/
CW for: Stalking, Somno, manipulative behavior, pervy behavior
(Also send me your requests🖤)
•Charlie has always been perverted. He just knew how to hide it.
•You had been friends with Robbie first, which Charlie pushed for you two to become closer because he knew it would give him the opportunity to be around you and create common ground.
•The most he had been able to get from you was when you so graciously stood next to his desk as you talked to one of your friends that sat next to him. With your back to him, the bottom of your skirt caught on the edge of his desk.
•"God that skirt is so fucking short, how has she not been dressed coded yet," He thinks to himself before slipping his pen under the hem of your skirt and lifting it until he saw the bottom of your ass where it met the top of your thighs. "Wouldn't tell her to cover up either if it meant I could look at that cute little ass, fucking pervs,"
•After Charlie squirmed his way into your friendship with Robbie, suggesting all three of you work on school projects or the occasional hang out at the mall, you felt comfortable around him and even enjoyed all of you doing stuff together.
•Which is why you didn't think twice when he suggested they used your house to work on the physics presentation.
•"If not, it's okay. Robbies Dad works from home, and my internet can barely handle one laptop, let alone three. We can always use the library, but everyone else probably has that same idea,"
•Of course you accepted. After starting the project at your place and mostly messing around for an hour, Charlie left to use the restroom. You told him which door down the hall was the right one, and he left the dining room with a small thanks and a smile.
•He wasn't actually using the restroom but sneaking into your room to snatch a pair of used panties out of your hamper.
•He slid into your room and quickly grabbed them, knowing exactly where to look.
•Just because your window faces your backyard doesn't mean no one's looking.
•After a few more hours and little work getting done, you all called it a night. When Charlie got home, he collapsed on his bed, pulling the balled up fabric from his pocket, holding it up to his face as he inhaled deeply and grabbed his aching cock with his other hand.
•He scrambled to open the front of his jeans before wrapping the used underwear around his shaft, his leaking tip soaking precum into the gusset as he jerked himself off. The thought of your pussy pressing against the same fabric he was using sent him over the edge and he drenched the panties in his cum. They were absolutely ruined, but it was fine. He could always get another pair.
•Eventually your friendship grew, and you would sometimes hang out with just him without Robbie.
•Charlie's favorite thing was to watch horror movies. His favorite was the first Stab, so when he put it on for the millionth time, you dozed off a little more than halfway through, just like you did the last few times you watched it.
•Charlie waited a bit before his fingers started to rub circles across the top of your thigh. When you had no reaction, he moved a little higher, still nothing.
•He completely disregarded the movie as he looked down at your baggy shorts. His fingers gently pushed up the thin fabric until he could see the front of your panties.
•"God it's almost stupid how easy you are. Who wears something like this when they're hanging out with a friend?" He thinks to himself.
•When your unaware body has no reaction to his advances, he presses his pointer finger against your slit, rubbing up and down until the fabric becomes dark and slick with pre cum.
•You squirm a little at the touch but don't show any signs of waking, so Charlie lets his other hand fall to his buldge and begins to slowly undo his pants.
•His cock is hot and twitching as he removes it from his underwear and starts to stroke it. He spits into his palm and jerks himself off as he feels the slippery wetness beneath the fabric of your underwear.
•Charlie always edged himself before you hung out, so the feeling of your juices against his fingers drove him crazy. He relaxed his head against the back of the couch and watched as your brows furrow in pleasure.
•He couldn't stop the thoughts of pulling your underwear to the side and ramming his cock into your poor unprepared pussy. He craved the sounds of your pained gasp as your eyes snapped open and watched as he hammers into you, your walls painfully accepting his intrusion as you grab at his flannel and hair, desperate for an anchor to reality.
•He jolts slightly before pulling his hand from between your legs and shoving his soaked fingers into his mouth, getting lost in the taste of your slick melting onto his tongue, his cum pouring down his hand and onto his pale stomach.
•After cleaning himself up in your bathroom, he sneaks into your room to grab another pair of panties, knowing he'd have to be back for the ones you have on now later.
Also, I'm thinking about doing one of Charlie leaning more into being Ghostface and becoming more violent with the reader, what's are yalls thoughts?
#rory culkin#rory culkin smut#charlie walker#scream 4#scream#ghostface#charlie walker smut#ghostface smut
247 notes
·
View notes
Text
Light My Love (Matt Murdock x Reader)
MASTERLIST // TAG LIST REQUEST
A/N: I tweaked the request just a bit, but I think I like how it came out! Thanks for requesting, nonnie! Also, I'm realizing that I need to write more happy Matt lmfao all i write for him is angst and this poor man just needs to be HAPPY!
Request: could you do a fic where reader gets hurt from matt’s work and he keeps blaming himself and reader comforts him?
Summary: Matt is in serious need of comfort when he blames himself for your injuries. (Someone pls hug this man he NEEEEEDS it)
(Warnings: angst (what’s new lmfao), some mentions of violence, matt leans heavy into self-hatred in this one, fluffy matt, matt makes pancakes at the end lol)
The drip from the leaky faucet in the corner of your cell was beginning to grate on your nerves. You’d already tried everything to get it to stop – slamming your shoe on it repeatedly, twisting the handles all the way around, trying to pull the entire thing from the wall. It was no use. The water kept coming, and you kept waiting for it to stop.
It had been two days since you’d last seen Matt – two days since you’d interfered with his mission and gotten yourself kidnapped by some low-level cartel members. Your stomach hadn’t stopped rumbling, and the little sleep you had been able to get was restless.
The guys who kidnapped you weren’t particularly interested in you. They had thrown you in the windowless cell and mostly ignored you since then, but you could hear them moving around on the floor above you at all hours of the day. You had to give them credit – they might be idiots, but they were observant enough to recognize that Daredevil cared about you. That’s why they grabbed you, and that’s why you were kicking yourself for getting involved in Matt’s business.
You hadn’t really been trying to get involved. Truly. Matt may be a hot mess, but he was always on time, and when he never showed up for your dinner date, you got worried. A gnawing concern ate at your stomach as you walked around Hell’s Kitchen searching for any sign of him. The next thing you knew, a knife was being held to your throat and Matt was being beaten into the concrete in front of you.
You had distracted him, and it had gotten both of you hurt. Or killed. You didn’t know where Matt was. You tried not to think about it – the idea that your life partner could be dead because of your mistake. Instead, you focused on the pattern the goons in the room upstairs were making on the ceiling.
Three steps to the left, two forward, three to the right. Maybe they were dancing? You hadn’t been able to figure it out, but the pattern had grown to be a soothing white noise in the background of this living hell.
A thud on the ceiling startled you out of your lightheaded haze, followed shortly by the unmistakable scream of one of the men upstairs. The sounds that followed were as terrifying as they were relieving. He was here. You crawled to your feet, leaning on the wall for support and listening to the screams as they got closer and closer to you.
Your knees buckled as Matt’s broad frame kicked through the door. He was a sight to behold in his full Daredevil gear, crimson colored and scary as hell. You whimpered as he fell to his knees in front of you, one hand resting on your cheek while the other held your body weight up.
“Tell me you’re okay. Tell me they didn’t hurt you, sweetheart.” Matt’s voice cracked as he looked you over for injuries.
The lower half of Matt’s face, the part that was visible with the mask on, was covered in scruff. You could tell he hadn’t shaved since the last time he saw you. Probably hadn’t eaten or slept either. Tears finally began to stream down your cheeks. He was here, and he was breathing, and he was okay.
“Matty.” Your throat was dry and scratchy from the hours you had spent screaming at your captors, begging them to free you.
Matt lifted you in his arms, cradling you against his chest and walking out of the cell and towards the back of the building. The unconscious bodies in the hallway were enough to remind you how dangerous Matt could be when he let the devil out, but you weren’t afraid. You would never be afraid of Matt.
When Matt exited the building, you were expecting the sunlight to temporarily blind you, but it was almost as dark outside as it was in your dingy cell. You were about to ask Matt how far away from home you were when you realized he was headed directly towards a parked car around the corner.
Foggy jumped out of the driver’s seat, hurrying to open the back door so Matt could climb in with you.
“Is she okay?” he asked, swallowing thickly.
“She’s-” Matt’s voice was gruff, “She’s alive,” he finally said, leaning forward to climb into the car. He didn’t let go of you, even when he sat down and Foggy had pulled away from the curb. He just tightened his grip on you, pulling you even closer to his body. The ache to touch him grew in you tenfold when you realized how exhausted you both were. You lightly began tracing the bottom of the mask, tugging the material over Matt’s head.
He was always beautiful, but you could see the strain of the last few days in the way he hung his head low. His eyes, usually so pretty and full, were muted in color and half-lidded.
“Did you sleep at all while I was gone, my love?” You mumbled, scratching the scruff on his cheeks and chin.
“I had to find you. It wasn’t an option.” He bit out, trying to hide the groan crawling up his throat at your touch.
“I’m sorry I-” You started, tears welling up in your eyes.
“Don’t apologize,” Matt sounded distraught, “Why are you apologizing? It’s me who should be begging on my knees for your forgiveness.” A tear made its way down his cheek, falling onto your shoulder.
You furrowed your brow, glancing at Foggy, who was doing his very best to look like he wasn’t overhearing a very intimate conversation between his best friends.
“I don’t understand, Matty,” You finally responded, wiping under his eyes with your thumbs.
“I’m meant to protect you. That’s my job, and I failed. You got hurt, and it’s my fault, and I wouldn’t blame you if you left me the minute we get home. I am undeserving of anyone’s love, but most of all yours.”
Stunned silence filled the car. Matt’s eyes were squeezed shut, trying and failing to stop the overflow of tears falling down his face. Foggy’s expression was one of pure concentration as he navigated New York City traffic, but his frequent glances in the mirror read as a deep concern for his friend.
“Matty, hey, don’t do that. I’m the one that messed up. I followed you when I should’ve trusted that you would be okay. It was my fault, not yours.”
“Stop.” He gritted out, resting his head on the headrest behind him.
You fell silent, resting your head on his chest. He couldn’t be rational when he was this worked up, and you were so exhausted that you didn’t want to argue with him.
Foggy pulled around the back of Matt’s apartment building and you reached for Matt’s mask. Even though the clock on the dashboard said it was 3:42 in the morning, you couldn’t risk Matt being seen by anyone without his mask on. You pulled it onto his face, planting a soft kiss on his cheek when you were finished.
When Foggy opened the door, you moved to climb out yourself, but Matt wouldn’t let you budge. He climbed out, still holding you against his body.
“I’m not made of glass, ya know,” you said, scoffing at Matt’s unwillingness to let you go and then turning to Foggy, “Thank you, Foggy. We can talk...later?”
“Yeah, yep. Mhmm.” Foggy was looking between you and Matt, scrunching his eyebrows together in what you could only describe as a mix of confusion and concern. You smiled, nodding at him reassuringly even though dread was beginning to build in your gut.
Matt swiftly carried you through the apartment building, refusing to set you down until he had locked the door behind him with the deadbolt, and even then, he would only set you down on the couch.
As soon as he let you go, you jumped to your feet, immediately swaying with exhaustion. Matt sighed, pulling his mask off and shaking his head.
“How long has it been since you slept, sweetheart?” He asked, unbuttoning his suit and pulling the different pieces of it off one at a time.
“I don’t...” you started, trying to blink the exhaustion from your eyes, “I don’t know.”
He tugged on your hand, leading you to the bedroom, where you collapsed onto the bed with a sigh.
“Matty, the sheets.” You tried to push yourself off, not wanting to stain his sheets with the scent of that awful place, but he lightly pushed you back down.
“Don’t worry about them. Sleep, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss onto your forehead, resting his lips there for a few seconds longer than normal. You realized when he stood and didn’t move towards the door that he would continue standing there until you fell asleep.
Luckily for him, your eyes were on their way to closing whether you liked it or not, so you let the exhaustion wash over your body and drifted off to sleep almost immediately.
//
When you woke, you couldn’t figure out what day it was, or how much time had passed since you’d fallen asleep. The sheets had been changed, and you were wearing one of Matt’s big T-shirts. Matt was sitting on the other side of the bed, back pressed against the headboard. He was clean shaven and wearing new clothes, but he still looked exhausted.
“Did you sleep at all?” You asked, pushing your body into a sitting position. The soreness in your muscles startled you. You hadn’t noticed the stiffness earlier, but the adrenaline pumping through your veins was probably the only thing that kept you going for as long as you did. That, or you had been asleep for much longer than you realized.
“Some.” He responded, finally looking in your direction.
You crawled forward, swinging your leg over his hips so you could straddle him. It wasn’t a sexual movement, and Matt knew that. You had spent many mornings in this exact position, holding each other and talking about everything and nothing all at the same time. Matt’s hands brushed over your exposed thighs, settling on your waist.
“You shaved.” You pointed out, eyeing his expression. You hadn’t forgotten the conversation from the car, and you weren’t planning on moving until you and Matt had finished talking.
“You don’t remember?” he asked, tilting his head.
“I guess not.”
“A few hours after you fell asleep, you got up begging to take a shower. I changed the sheets and shaved while you did that.”
“Oh.” You mumbled. Your hands toyed with the hair at the nape of Matt’s neck.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Matt’s face had fallen so quickly that it broke your heart. He buried his head in your shoulder, wrapping you in a hug in the same motion. “I’m so, so sorry. Could you ever forgive me?”
“Matty,” you sighed, hugging him tightly, “There’s nothing to forgive. You saved me before anything really bad could happen.”
“What if I couldn’t find you? What if you died in that cell because I couldn’t make it in time?” He pressed his forehead against yours and let out a shuttering breath. He was seconds away from breaking completely.
“Baby, you did find me, and I’m okay. I only have a few bumps and bruises. You saved me, Matt.”
Matt’s face contorted into a mask of rage – not at you, but at himself.
“I promised I would protect you. That’s the most important promise I’ve ever made, even more than any promises I’ve ever made to God, and I broke it.” His voice cracked and he tightened his hold around you.
“Matty, you saved me. And you wouldn’t have had to protect me if I hadn’t gone looking for you. I knew you were working a dangerous case and I went anyways. This isn’t your fault, baby.”
Matt’s body shook as he cried into your shoulder. He was hugging you so tightly that not even God himself could’ve pried his fingers away from you. You couldn’t tell how much time was passing, but you didn’t mind. You kissed Matt’s hair, ran your hands up and down his back, and hugged him back just as tightly. You would do this forever if you had to.
When Matt finally righted himself and sat back, his eyes were swollen and red. You couldn’t help the kisses you placed on his eyelids. He just looked so pretty, and he always relaxed under your touch, so you leaned in, planting a kiss on his lips.
“I love you.” Matt whispered, squeezing your waist for emphasis.
“I love you, Matty.” You smiled, kissing him again. Your stomach loudly growled, and Matt gave you a small smile.
“You’re hungry, sweetheart.”
“I guess I am.” You giggled.
“Want some pancakes?” he asked, bringing his lips to yours again.
You suddenly looked around, trying to figure out what time of day it was.
“How long did I sleep for?” You finally asked after not being able to figure out if it was dawn or dusk.
“You slept most of the day away. It’s probably around 6 or 7 now.” Your stomach growled again.
“Then hell yes, I want some pancakes.” You jumped off Matt, tugging him out of bed with you. You pulled him in for another kiss. “But only if I get to see your pretty smile first.”
Matt’s grin melted your heart. It always did, but after what you both went through over the last few days, seeing him smile again was like rain after a drought.
“There it is.” You mumbled, matching his grin.
You could’ve sworn a blush crept up Matt’s neck, but you didn’t want to make him so embarrassed that he couldn’t make your pancakes, so instead of mentioning it, you pulled him towards the kitchen, squeezing his hand the entire way. He didn’t let go, even when you sat down to eat. Later, when his exhaustion finally caught up to him, you snuggled next to him in bed, refusing to let go of him for the rest of the night.
Tag List:
@alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @xleiaorgana @mukbee @soft-emo-enby @purple-amaranthe @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @alina02 @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman
#matt murdock#daredevil#matt murdock x reader#daredevil x reader#matt murdock imagine#daredevil imagine#daredevil netflix#marvel daredevil#charlie cox#charlie cox imagine#matthew murdock#matthew murdock x reader#matt murdock x you#matt murdock x y/n#daredevil x you#daredevil x y/n#marvel#marvel imagine#marvel fanfiction#pastafossa if you see this i love u#foggy nelson#daredevil born again#daredevil fanfiction#daredevil fluff#human disaster matt murdock#requested#amhrosina
839 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hiiii bfr i send my req, just wanna say i love your acc sm!! Could you pls write any tooth-rotting domestic fluff (can also drop a hint of suggestiveness hehe) abt jean pls? My idea would be abt his lover trying out her new lipstick where she cheekily smothers him with kisses just to see if it's transfer-proof heheh. Thank youu <33!!!
pairing: jean kirstein x fem!reader
word count: just under 1k
warnings: nothing, just fluffff :) ok maybe a little bit of suggestiveness at the end ;)
a/n: i love jean so much this is an epic request i hope you like it :)) sorry it took so long ily & i’m happy you like my account
you and jean had been going out for quite some time now. tonight would mark your three year anniversary. it was funny to think about; time flies when you’re in love. you could’ve sworn you just met jean yesterday. jean had that way about him, that effortless, sweep you off your feet type of deal. he had never once stopped making you feel loved or needed through out the entirety of your relationship.
there’s a dinner planned tonight. jean’d organized everything himself. he always took care of all the little things like picking the place and making reservations. he even took the liberty of buying you a new dress to wear, accompanied by a matching set of heels and a little tube of a burgundy-red lipstick. your heart swells when you come home and see it on your bed. jean leans against the door frame and clears his throat, making you jump a little.
“do you like them?” he asks. he doesn’t need you to answer. jean knows you so well he knows you love him. your answer just gives him that extra satisfaction.
“i love all of it. it’s amazing. thank you, jean.” you mean it sincerely. your fingers find their way to the lipstick. it was expensive.
“don’t thank me yet, baby. we’ve still got to get you dressed and to the restaurant.” jean walks over to where you stand by the bed. he gently takes the lipstick out of your hand and examines it. “hmm..”
“what?”
“i just think it’ll look good on you, that’s all.” he sets the tube back on the bed and kisses you on the top of your head. “now go get in the shower.”
the shower is nice and warm. you can’t help but feel a growing pit in the bottom of your stomach. you were nervous. the good type of nervous. it wasn’t often you had the time to get all dolled up. jean knew how much you loved getting all pretty but he loved it even more. he loved to spoil you. he loved the way you look in a dress. you couldn’t help but feel you need to uphold a certain standard. you wanted to feel beautiful, especially on a night like tonight.
after drying off and doing your hair, you slip into the dress you’d found laying on your bed earlier. it’s a little black dress with bits of lace here and here. it conforms to your body, hugging your hips. you had to admit, you looked damn good. “jean?” you called as you opened the bathroom door.
within seconds, your boyfriend is there. “yes, baby? what’sa matter?”
“do you like it?” you whispered, smoothing your dress out with your palms. jean’s eyes slowly trailed all the way down from your head. his eyes made their way back up to yours.
“you look gorgeous.” his eyes said everything. “you’re forgetting something, though.” jean furrowed an eyebrow and brushed a hand against the side of your warm face. he turned away without another word and headed to grab the tube of lipstick you left on the bed.
“oh, duh.” you laughed at yourself. you reached a hand out to take the makeup from him. he pulled his hand back. “i kind of need that if i want to wear it.” you cocked your head and crossed your arms.
jean just chuckled and shook his head. “don’t be a smart ass, (y/n.) get your cute self a little closer.” he snaked a hand around your waist and pulled you towards him. “open your mouth.” it came out in a whisper.
“jean, what?”
“do you trust me?” he asked with a glimmer in his eye. you nodded your head reluctantly. you did trust him but hell, did he make you nervous. you parted your lips, shallow breaths coming out of them. he grabbed your chin and lifted it up. he’s staring into your eyes and you can’t help but take in just exactly how handsome he is. your cheeks flushed as if you haven’t been living with him for almost two years. he flicked open the lipstick and raised it gently to your open lips. jean squinted his eyes in concentration. the lipstick glided against your lips smoothly. jean’s hazel eyes met yours once more. you rubbed your lips together slightly as he capped the lipstick.
“well?” you wondered outloud.
“it suits you perfectly. suppose i really know my lady, huh?”
“i think it’d suit you too, handsome.” you purred as a devilish smile crept across your face.
“i love you but you’re crazy if you think i’m wearing lipstick.” before jean could say another word, you stood on your tippy toes and grabbed the sides of his face. you smooshed your lips right against his cheekbone and held them there for a second. you pulled away to see a perfect stamp of your lips, the burgundy popping against his skin.
a smile formed slowly on jean’s face. the smile turned into a grin with shades of red rushing into his cheeks. he rubbed the back of neck awkwardly.
“damn. i’m thinking we’re going to be a little late, baby.”
you drop your hands and cross them behind your back. jean had made you feel beautiful. he would have made you feel that way even if he hadn’t said anything. you could see it in his eyes and you could feel it in his touch, just how much he adored you.
find my jean fic right here <3
#attack on titan fanfiction#attack on titan#aot headcanons#aot smut#aot fanfiction#snk headcanons#aot fluff#attack on titan headcanons#aot fanfic#aot x reader#jean kirstein#jean kirstein fluff#jean kirstein x reader#jean kirstein x y/n#jean kirstein x you#jean kirstein fanfiction#jean kirstein headcanons#jean kirstein imagines#jean kirstein smut#attack on titan fluff#jean x reader#aot jean#jean kirschtein x reader#jean kirschtein#attack on titan imagines#shingeki no kyojin#snk fluff#snk smut#jean kirschtein smut#jean kirschstein
98 notes
·
View notes
Note
Pls share your thoughts on Huey Duck I would eat them up so fast
Hello yes I would like to talk about him.
Huey's sweet and kind and responsible and everything but I also think sometimes he will be pretty insufferable when he puts on his know-it-all hat and you know what good for him.
On that note; I'm pretty sure while Huey is absolutely a balm on the salty wound left open after having so many gratingly sarcastic and rude characters be the foremost autistic representation in media.... the kid's probably got a mean streak buried somewhere in there next to The Duke. Like I don't think he'd take a hard insult to his intelligence or anyone in his family lying down. And he wouldn't play nice with someone who really deserved a dressing-down I don't think.
I'm talking cutting words. Biting. He's smart, he could have some truly nasty comebacks locked and loaded for whenever a day comes that someone makes him mad enough.
In this interaction,
Huey says "are you really going to let our family get hurt because you're afraid to get hurt?" And I love it.
It's kind of blink-and-you'll-miss-it because the scene immediately turns into a mad dash toward the sounds of lasers firing, but I caught it the other day and it stuck with me.
In moments like these, where a member of the main cast is put in the role of an advisor or counselor, we actually get a glimpse of their own psyche (when it's well-written and in character), as they attempt to transfer what they believe is The Right Thing To Do into the mind of the advisee. In this instance we, briefly, hear Huey speak one of his own core values.
He speaks this idea of putting service/care to your family before your own means - before your own goals, discomfort, fears or limitations. Dare I say it's even a little sacrificial?
This message Huey presents is founded upon all of his strongest traits: responsibility, empathy, rationality and maturity.
And for that reason (the coolest thing) this message Huey gives to Louie has a subtle through-line from the beginning of the show all the way to the end.
Mt Neverrest is a strong example for this message being one of Huey's core values; wherein he instantly abandoned his personal quest to ensure the family's safety. And it pops up in so many little moments upon rewatching episodes.
I just think it's neat.
I think Huey's sadly not as strong a fighter as Dewey or Webby, about on par with Louie most of the time despite his y'know. Internal rage. He's saved by his quick thinking and ability to take advantage of any openings his calculating little science eyes spot.
But I also think branching off from that idea that Huey is a bloody dirty fighter and when I say he "takes advantage" I mean there will be zero hesitation. Sure, he can't fight in long, drawn-out brawls super well because 1 he's a little book boy and 2 he just doesn't have the spirit for fighting.
But what he does have is logic - and not a lot of time to plan.
So if Logic says that he only has a three fifths of a second to dig his fingers into this undead swordsman's eyes and pull out his optic nerves before he runs somebody through with his deadly sword than. You know. He does that.
And he DOESN'T get wrestling so he'd absolutely get disqualified or something for doing some crazy non-wrestling stunt like idk kicking someone in the throat.
Speaking of sports, we know Huey tried to get into football it seems and oh boy idk if that would have worked out well for him if he was in any position other than being the water boy. He'd either have panicked and gotten trampled or Duked out and gotten suspended..... tbh it more likely would have been the first.
We don't talk enough about how Huey sits at the proverbial "adult's table" in the family a lot of the time. Sure all the kids are treated as equals in skill and value by the adults but Huey's behind closed doors with the grownups, in the finale, the other kids actively being excluded from the planning circle he gets special privilege to be a part of like ISN'T THAT A BIT TOO MUCH RESPONSIBILITY?? He's a child????
Speaking as someone who used to be "the reliable/good/peace-keeping child" of my extended family, it can get pretty isolating being the one the adults trust the most with "important" business. I actually have a fic idea aaaaaaall about this that I started writing a while ago and I really want to finish it some day.
That's about all I could think of for the moment.... I've been dying to talk about some of this stuff, so thank you!
38 notes
·
View notes
Note
Drabble idea for the sb!au: Bucky enlists the help of his girl's brothers when, in the future, he decides to propose!
this is so cute oh god😭😭
The Most Important Question - sb!au
pairing: ceo!bucky x personal assistant!reader
word count: 1.4k
warnings: none really, mentions of anxiety, allusions to panic attacks, mainly fluff
a/n: i love this series so much pls send more ideas yall!!
sugarbaby!au masterlist | tip jar
-
Dread. Horrible, frightful anxiety. Shaky hands and a heart beating too fast. A whirlwind of uncertainty spirals into what is sure to be a panic attack if left unattended.
Bucky is nervous.
He’s accomplished many things in his life, has been through hell and back, climbed - metaphorically - to the top of Mount Everest, and seen all the beauty - and pain - the world offers.
But no accomplishment, nor any obstacle, could have prepared him for this.
“Buck?”
He snaps his eyes open - not even realizing he’d closed them - and fixates his eyes in front of him. There, standing with a tilted head and confused expression, stands Ezekiel. His right hand is holding the door open while his body leans to the left in a casual, relaxed demeanor, which only seems to further Bucky’s anxiety. Why? He doesn’t know. But it does.
Maybe it’s the secret he’s been keeping, the nearly $8,500 secret currently resting in Bucky’s right pants pocket. He’s opted to wear his nicest jeans and a carefully picked out soft, but not inexpensive, cream-colored sweater. It’s a non-offensive yet homely look, just what he’s going for.
Though maybe he’s put too much thought into his outfit because Ezekiel immediately gives Bucky an inquisitive look, scanning his body as though he feels something is off.
“Not that it’s not cool to see you, but I thought you were supposed to be out of town. Is my sister with you?”
Bucky sucks in a deep breath, his heartbeat quickens, here goes nothing.
“No, she’s with some friends getting lunch, I think. And, technically no. I-I told your sister I was so I could…” Bucky trails off, clearing his throat and wetting his dry lips.
“Can I come in?”
Ezekiel, with his confused expression only deepening, nods slowly, stepping off to the side and allowing Bucky to pass through the threshold of your brother's apartment.
Things are quiet, and a little tense, when he wanders into the living room. Robbie and Lucas have made a home on the couch, laying haphazardly across it as they stare intently at The Lord of the Rings playing on the tv. Though they quickly pause it once they notice Bucky’s presence.
They glance between him and Ezekiel, now standing behind him.
“Hey guys, um. I wanted to… talk to you about something.”
Bucky shuffles nervously, hands clasping together in front of him as he sits precariously in one of the lounge chairs.
All three boys pass a confused, concerned look each others way before setting their gazes on the man’s semi-hunched form.
Everything is once again quiet, tense beyond belief as Bucky struggles to find the right words.
“Look, Bucky, just spit i-“
“I want to marry your sister.”
The atmosphere shifts dramatically, and Bucky’s breathing has stopped almost entirely as your brothers turn to each other once more. A silent conversation passes between them, Bucky’s shaking hand reaching into his pants and pulling it out - a small, black, velvet box. Facing the box towards him, he opens it carefully, showcasing a little less than a dozen simple diamonds forming beautifully intricate patterns around a golden band.
“I love her,” He starts, glancing down at the ring and then lifting his head, gazing at the three boys in front of him - all with blank, neutral expressions.
“And I know that I hurt her, and you still might not fully trust me - and while I know that it was a couple of years ago, I also know how protective you guys are. But, she’s my everything. She’s the love of my life, and while I want nothing more than to be with her even into the afterlife, I know that your opinion is important.”
Bucky pauses, sucking in a few breaths in an attempt to even out his tone.
“As much as she denies it, your judgment, whether good or bad, influences her decisions, big or insignificant. And I know she loves me, but honestly, I… I don’t know if she’d say yes if you didn’t approve of it. I don’t even know if I’d actually ask if you guys would say no.”
Another pause. Another deep breath. His eyelids blink rapidly to prevent the tears that so desperately want to fall down his flushed face at the admission. Because it’s true, he loves you with everything he has. But this is the make-or-break moment, what they have to say is basically determining the rest of Bucky’s life.
“So,” Robbie starts, a little uncertain after a long minute of silence so thick you could slice through it with a blade. “Our opinion is important to you?”
It’s almost as if he’s testing Bucky, guiding him into some sort of trap. But, again, Bucky’s faced hairier situations than this, so he nods resolutely as his eyes travel between the three boys - now all sitting on the couches.
“Yes, it is.”
“Just to clarify,” Lucas glances at Ezekiel and Robbie quickly to gauge their reactions, then clears his throat. “You wouldn’t ask her to marry you if we don’t want you to?”
Again Bucky nods, rubbing one clammy hand over his jean-covered thigh as he mentally forces himself to push the ever growing anxiety to the side so he can get through this conversation.
But then, Robbie throws another question at him, one that Bucky hadn’t actually expected - and he’s gone through what must have been a hundred different fake scenarios to prepare for anything they might throw his way. But this? It catches him off guard, makes his heart constrict in his chest.
“Would you break up with her?”
Bucky has to physically stop the shudder that wants to run through his body. He hasn’t actually planned for the event that they actually would say no. It’s evident by the way he flounders, clearing his throat twice while furrowing his brow as he thinks over what to say.
Would he?
His immediate answer is ‘no’. Of course he wouldn’t break up with you, he loves you too much to let you go. But, then again, if they say no then that says so much about how they feel about him and your relationship. And, truthfully? Bucky doesn’t know if he could live knowing that they don’t want you two to be together in the way Bucky so desperately wants. He doesn’t know how he could go on with having you so close, yet so far.
“Um…”
“Robbie stop.”
Ezekiel’s voice cuts Bucky off, everyone in the room turning to look at his clear exasperation, accompanied with an eye roll.
“Listen, Bucky,” Ezekiel continues. “You’re a good man, a great one, in fact. And… we’ll be honest here and say that what you did is still in the backs of our minds. But…”
He pauses, adding tension to the air, before finally offering Bucky a sly smile.
“I mean it, you’re a good man. And I know - we know - that you love her, and that there probably won’t be anyone else that’ll love her like you do. And, yeah, you’ll have arguments and petty fights, but, if you can promise us, here and now, that you won’t ever hurt her like that again, then I say ‘yes’.”
Bucky’s heart leaps, nearly out of his chest. And he’s surprised he doesn’t get whiplash from how fast he nods.
“I won’t. I swear it upon everything I have, and everything I am.”
Then, Robbie sighs, nodding resolutely. Lucas does the same, offering Bucky a smile as he chimes in with “I say ‘yes’ too, then.”
And now Bucky wants to cry, but this time for a different reason. Because he’s going to ask you to marry him. Your brothers approve of him marrying you. Holy shit, he’s going to ask you to marry him. But he can’t even freak out over that right now, because the way your brothers are looking at him with fond, amused smiles, make him nearly certain you’ll say yes.
“Thank you,” Bucky croaks, voice thick with emotion. “I-I meant it, thank you guys so much. You have no idea what this means to me.”
Someone chuckles, Bucky’s not too sure who. But that doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that you’re going to spend the rest of your life with him, and his with you.
“I do have one question, though.”
Your brothers stare at him expectantly, Bucky evening out his breath carefully.
“Can you help me figure out how the hell I’m going to do this?”
tagging: @fandoms-writings @vayollie @bucks-metal-arm19 @southernbe @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @ilovetaquitosmmmm @banana-man0 @whitewolfstar01 @awkwardalie @flawssy227 @princessdancingonthesunshine @nataliewalker93 @britishvamps @elbell20-blog @purple-vodka-99 @bport76 @star017 @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @giftedyoungster3000 @xcaptain-winterx @igotmajordaddyissues @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @povlvr
#blackwidownat2814#bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fluff#ceo!bucky#sugardaddy!bucky#bucky barnes smut#james barnes#bucky barnes fic rec#bucky barnes fanfiction#james buchanan barnes#sb!au#my writing#love letters
292 notes
·
View notes
Text
through the hourglass 157. brb x oc
a/n: 😬 well, it was getting too fluffy anyway (reblogs and comments are super encouraged <3)
pairing: plus size!oc x rooster
warnings: fluff then um...well!
goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)
chapter
1/
/100/101/102/103/104/105/106/107/108/109/110/111/112/113/114/115/116/117/118/119/120/121/122/123/124/125/126/127/128/129/130/131/132/133/134/135/136/137/138/139/140/141/142/143/144/145/146/147
/148/149/150/151/152/153/154/155/156
(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )
taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @novastories @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix
@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls
@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2
@emilybradshaw @j-6o @louisahale @leobabbyyy @booklover2sblog @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12
@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @dhwanishah09 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi @hobiismyhopeu @teacupsandtopgun @insominac23 @gh0stsgoodgirl @mygyn @chavivaelisheva @genius2050
-
So
He was a bit wrong.
Mav didn’t faint but he did cry. Quite a lot, he stood up and hugged both of them while crying, literally sobbing. He was happy, very happy by the new pregnancy. Was it a bit shocking? Of course it was, but Maverick didn’t complain about it, he just said they’d do a great job…and that bring them back to the conversation Bradley wanted to have with Bea.
With Pete back home and the three of them alone, Rooster sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed with Nicole, Beatrice walking away to take her shower and get ready for the night, “Gorgeous.”
‘Yeah?”
“I was thinking,” he begins, playing with Nicole’s tiny hands and smiling as she gurgles at him and he leans back on the bed to keep her on his chest, letting his daughter sit on his stomach and hold onto his fingers, “Since I’ll…leave soon…we should go out. You know, on a date.”
There’s a sudden stop of any movement from the bathroom, Beatrice comes out wearing only her robe and with her clothes for the night in her hold, “Oh?”
“Yeah, it’s been a while since we did that.”
She chuckled in confusion, “So, the one week in Virginia wasn’t a date?”
“No, it was family time.”
“Hmmmm…” she squints her eyes suspiciously at him, ‘Do you have anything in mind then? Anything I should think about?”
“Not yet,since I don’t know when I’m going, only that’ll be soon.” he explains, watching her go back into the bathroom, leaving him and Nicole, ‘I want us to have some time with Nikki,” his daughter smiles, maybe she already knows her name? “And then I’ll spend time with you.”
“Aw,Brad, you are so sweet.” she says as the doors close just enough to leave a creak open so they could speak to one another “...well,okay, if it works for you. I don’t want you to worry about it, you know I’d love anything you give me.”
“I know.” he says, gently swaying Nicole side to side, as if she was on a beat and his little girl laughs harder, “But…let me pamper my wife.”
“As if you don’t do it already.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
There’s a pause. “...no.”
He smirks as he kisses Nicole on the cheek. Maybe this was a bit too much, but he couldn’t really deny he wouldn’t like it. The idea of spending time with his girls was too much for him to ignore, he loved them, desperately so and all he wanted was to have it, this moment, with them without worries.
So yeah, he can do that. Even better, he will do that. “Come on Nikki, let’s get you covered up.” he sits on the bed in one swift movement that makes her laugh even more. He smiles, nuzzling her neck as he takes her out of the master bedroom, ‘God I’ll miss that giggle.”
“Dada!”
“Yes, dada will miss you a lot.” he coos as he kisses her hands, then her little nose, “Dada will never forget you when he’s away, you’ll never forget daddy either,right?” Nicole gurgles, hugging his face and giving the ‘gummy kisses’ she’s so used to doing, making the pilot laugh as he brings her closer to his chest.
He opens one of her dresser’s drawers, pulling out a small seafoam colored coat with tiny ducks on it, “Are we feeling ducks?” he holds for her to see, making Nicole turn towards the garment and reach for it, grabbing it tightly in her small hand, “We are feeling ducks. Good.” he places Nicole on the changing table, his little girl already knowing how to sit was a feat he never grew tired of, in fact he loved how she had both of her hands on top of her lap like a little lady, watching him move around.
He slides the coat on her little arms, fixing the collar and rubbing his hand on the soft duck patches on the fabric, ‘There we go.” he smirks, keeping eye to eye contact with Nicole, ‘You look absolutely perfect.” she giggles in a high pitched tone, clapping her little hands and letting him pick her up one more time, “You know, I think I’m gonna surprise mama tonight, what do you think?”
“Aaa!”
“Since we are both staying, hm? We can go get her a little something.”
“Aaa!”
“Yes,I knew you’d like that.” he comes back to their bedroom only to find Beatrice already had her pants on and was currently putting on her earrings, muttering to herself as she walks around the room. She does notice them, giving the two a brief smile and then tugs the sneakers from under the bed, “Look.” he holds Nicole in front of him like she’s Simba, “Doesn’t she look adorable?”
Beatrice looks up from sliding her shoe and smiles, “She does,Roos.” she says, “Are you sure it’ll be okay for you to stay tonight?’
“I am sure.” he says, “Are you sure you will be okay?”
“I am.” she smiles even more, “Believe me,I have to tell Penny about it and tonight is the only night I can do so.” she explains as she’s finished, pulling her hair up in a ponytail, “Then, well, I think she’ll let me work until I reach…five months? Pretty much? Or less, last time it was like that, so…”
“As long you don’t get hurt or worry too much about it.”
Beatrice tilts her head at him, adoration on her face as she turns her body partially towards him, one hand on her hip, “You are too sweet.”
“I have to be.” he smirks, “Cause so are you.”
“If we continue with this I might never leave, so,” she grabs her bag to slide the strap over her shoulder, “Shall we?”
-
Nicole was sitting on the couch next to Rooster and the dogs, he was actually finishing some reports he chose to do when he got home since it wasn’t that hard to finish it up. He did flick his eyes from the paper to Nicole from time to time, her eyes locked on Dr.Chimp’s colorful episode, her little mouth slack as she supported her body on Eleanor’s large canine head, the white dog didn’t seem to care.
Rooster smirks, checking his phone briefly to see if Beatrice was alright - she hadn’t sent him any messages yet so he assumed the bar was full and she had no time…and he shouldn’t worry, that was going to be okay. He was going to be okay,right? He was, he had Nicole, he had the tv and the dogs and he had…a few reports to finish, so he should do it now.
“Someone told me the amount of reports you did while in the Navy,” he mutters, “And I was dumb enough to not believe them.” he turns to Nikki who just looks back at him with her large green eyes, “You should always believe in people Nikki…well not always, but when it comes to a job you want, you should trust the ones who’ve been there longer, you hear?”
“Aa!”
“Damn right, baby girl.” he taps her nose with his index finger, “Damn right.”
Rooster returns his attention to the reports, focusing on the task at hand. The soft glow of the lamp casts a warm ambiance in the room, and the dogs curl up at his feet, providing a sense of companionship. As he delves into his work, his mind wanders to the upcoming deployment and the challenges that lie ahead.
He knows that being away from Beatrice and Nicole will be difficult. The thought of leaving them behind fills him with a mixture of pride and anxiety. But he's determined to fulfill his duty and return to them safely. They are his motivation to persevere through any obstacles that may come his way.
Was it going to be extremely hard no matter how often he thinks about it?
Yes.
Was he going to manage it?
…yes.
He frowns a bit, tapping the end of his pen against the pile of papers, rubbing his chin with his free hand. This…deployment seemed different, not only there were the new pilots and the seasoned ones, but everything was so hush-hush that Rooster didn’t know what to expect. The uncertainty gnawed at him, adding an extra weight to his already heavy heart. He knew he couldn't control the circumstances or the challenges that awaited him, but he could control how he approached them.
Rooster took a deep breath, pursing his lips as he taps the pen against the paper one more time. He glanced over at the wedding photos on the nearby shelf—the moments frozen in time, filled with love and laughter, he remembers that day vividly, and next to it were the newborn pictures of Nicole. She looked like a tiny little burrito…in fact, one of his favorite photos was exactly like that.
He should know more about this mission, if he was to lead a team, he had to know more. He tried asking others about it, but they were as much in the dark as he was. He knew that the younger pilots’ presence could only mean that they were also there to learn…so would it really be that dangerous?
As he closed his eyes, memories flashed through his mind—training exercises, difficult missions, moments of triumph and moments of loss.
It could be very dangerous.
“Aaa.Dada.” Nicole’s gentle voice breaks him out of his thoughts, her tiny hand holding onto his shirt and her big green eyes focused on him, “Buh buh, aa?”
“...what? Oh,” he checks the time, “Oh shit,we gotta eat,Nikki.” he was glad there was an excuse for him to stop filling those reports right now, picking Nicole up and taking her to the kitchen.
Rooster carries Nicole into the kitchen, a smile playing on his lips as she babbles and points at various objects around the room, she has no idea what they are but seeing them makes her very vocal. He sets her down in her high chair, making sure she's secure before starting to prepare their meal.
He decides that cooking tonight could be an even better distraction. As he rummages through the fridge, searching for ingredients, Nicole watches him with wide-eyed curiosity. She claps her hands and babbles excitedly, eager to participate in whatever her dada is doing.
Rooster chuckles and hands her a plastic spoon to play with, knowing it will keep her entertained while he cooks. “You can’t help me yet, baby girl, but,” he leans down to meet her eyes, “When you are older, we can work on it.”
Nicole giggles as she shakes her spoon happily, bouncing a bit on the chair as Rooster goes back to the task at hand.
He begins chopping vegetables, the rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board filling the air and the lovely sound of Nicole babbling. It was just going to be a stir fry, because it was quick and he could have it with Nicole…and Beatrice loved it. The familiar scent of spices and herbs wafts through the kitchen, creating an atmosphere of comfort.
He needed that, just so he could push the thoughts aside, just for a second.Cooking has always been a way for him to find solace, he got that from his mother. During college he mainly lived off Cup Noodles and fast food. “...because I was heavily depressed.” he muttered to himself arching his brows up high, “Fuckin’ bad,I swear. Don’t eat noodles like that Nikki, it’s bad for you.”
“Aa?”
“Yes, bad for you…but they do taste good sometimes.” he is just trying to ease his mind…who else would wonder what this mission was about? Maybe…Jake? No, he doesn’t know. Payback? Nah…neither does Maverick, “I hate being kept in the dark like that, it doesn’t help during the mission.” he says, glancing over at his daughter, who is now happily banging the spoon against her high chair tray, "I know honey, it sucks.”
“Aa!”
“Anyway, while this cooks, what are you feeling tonight? How about,” he opens the fridge, looking around the space for a few seconds, “How about some…uhhhh carrot and sweet potato?’ he grabs the container and checks the label, “Seems nice,I think your nonna made this one, it’s…heavy.” God bless Beatrice’s parents because even like that they always wanted to help.
Rooster chuckles at Nicole's enthusiastic babbling, amused by her antics. He takes the container of carrot and sweet potato baby food from the fridge, inspecting it and reading the label before he heats it up in the microwave. He appreciates the effort put in by Beatrice's parents to help out, even if it means sometimes the food can be a bit heavy for his taste.
But it is pretty good, he did try it a few times with Beatrice.
He keeps an eye on the stove and on the microwave, obviously the microwave is faster and he’s able to grab it to take it towards Nicole"Well, Nikki, let's give it a try, shall we?" he says, scooping a small portion of the carrot and sweet potato mash onto a spoon. He blows on it gently to cool it down before bringing it towards Nicole's waiting mouth.
Nicole opens her mouth eagerly, her eyes fixated on the spoon, eyes crossed and little hands on the tray. Rooster carefully feeds her the first spoonful, watching her reaction closely. As she tastes the new flavor, her face goes from ‘what the hell is this’ to ‘oh this is not so bad!’. She smacks her lips and babbles happily, clearly enjoying the combination of carrots and sweet potatoes.
"Looks like we have a winner!" Rooster exclaims, smiling at his daughter's enthusiastic response. He continues feeding her, making sure to go at a pace that she's comfortable with, allowing her to explore and savor each spoonful. “You are just such a fancy little girl,huh? When your mom and I were kids? The shit we had should’ve been radioactive, but here we are.”
His own food is done by the time he’s still feeding Nicole and he can, amazingly, multitask. He does pause every now and again to make sure Nikki was enjoying herself - okay he does get one bite and blinks hard ‘holy shit, this shouldn’t be so good’. His brain is now less worried, the thought was still there but there was no way he was going to let it ruin his night with Nicole.
Maybe he could get some of the flowers from their garden and set it for Beatrice, “She’d hate it though, so maybe not.”
“Aa!”
“I know honey,I know.” he gives her another spoonful just as he takes another bite.Rooster continues to feed Nicole, savoring the taste of his own meal in between.
Rooster finishes feeding Nicole and sets aside her empty bowl alongside his in the sink, before coming back to wipe her mouth and hands with a cloth. He scoops her up once she’s clean and carries her with him out of the kitchen just after he turns the dishwasher on.
“There we go.” he sets her down back on her spot on the couch, surrounded by the dogs and he goes back to his reports, turning the tv back to Dr.Chimp. He sighs, continuing to file his reports with his head much lighter and his stomach fuller, thinking how he could surprise Beatrice when she gets home.
She needs something good, that’s for sure.
His line of thought stops when the phone rings, luckily it was close enough for him to reach it. It was strange to receive a call so late at night, but he does pick it up, ‘Bradshaw household, Bradley speaking.”
“...Brad?”
“Leo,hi. What a surprise.”
“...i-is my sister home?”
“Bea? No she’s working tonight, why?”
“Fuck,I forgot she had work! Shit!Fuck–”
He had never heard Leonardo so…distraught, almost in tears. He stands up straighter on the couch, ‘What’s going on?”
“Fuck.Brad…it’s dad. Our dad, he–h-he’s in the hospital.”
Rooster's heart drops at Leonardo's words, an unbearable silence taking over. The news about Rafael being in the hospital catches him completely off guard, so much he loses his voice for a few seconds. He struggles to find the right words to respond, his voice filled with genuine concern.
"What? Leo, slow down. What happened to him? Is he okay?" Rooster asks, his voice laced with urgency.
Leonardo takes a shaky breath on the other end of the line before responding. "I...I don't know all the details yet. Mom found him unconscious at home. She called an ambulance, and they rushed him to the hospital. They think it might be a heart attack or something... I'm on my way there now. I-I wanted to let Bea know,I contacted Mike and Mari, but…"
Rooster's mind whirls as he tries to process the news. Concern for his father-in-law floods his thoughts, and he can't help but feel a sense of helplessness being so far away.
As he stands there, alone in the living room, Rooster's mind goes back to the romantic evening he had planned for Beatrice. But now, everything feels different. His focus shifts to how he’ll break the news to her…and…during her delicate state, “....fffuck…fuck.”
“What?”
“...do you want me to take Bea there?”
“...i…yeah, it’d be nice. She…well, if– I can call-”
“No,no, no it’s fine. I’ll give her a call.” fuck how is he going to break that up to her? She was pregnant. How is he going to tell her that her father is in the hospital?? And while she’s at work? “Fuck-fuck, no it’s,I can call her.”
“...thanks Brad.I-I’ll keep you updated,okay?”
“Yeah,yeah sure. Thanks Leo…bye.” his hand feels heavy as he sets the phone down, keeping his palm on top as his eyes clench and his entire body feels heavy. This was not the surprise he was hoping to give Bea.
#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x oc#top gun maverick#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw x named reader#tgm oc#tgm fic#tgm fanfiction
56 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi hii 🌸 weird questions for writers: 12, 17, 28 and 35 pls? ily
hii adi !! thank u for asking !! ily
12. If a genie offered you three writing wishes, what would they be? Btw if you wish for more wishes the genie turns all your current WIPs into Lorem Ipsum, I don’t make the rules
Wow, this is like the most interesting and fun question ever. I definitely wouldn’t wish for more wishes because that’s cheating duh. I’m trying to think of what I really struggle with while writing. I think my first wish would be to always remember those super fantastic 2 a.m. ideas I have but never write down. It’s literally the worst thing ever to go to bed having a super great idea and then waking up going “wait, shit, what was that idea again?” I think my second wish would be to always know how to end a scene! There are so many scenes I have that I think fall a little flat in their transition to the next one because I’m just going “oh shit I need to cut this off so I can get to the next.” So I would wish that I always knew the perfect transition line to end a scene. And my final wish… hmm. OOO it would to never have any continuity errors in my writing lol!! I’m not great at math so figuring out timing for fics and the timeline is always really confusing for me and I’m TOTALLY sure about half my fics have some type of plot hole related to the timeline. So, my third wish would be to always have an understandable and cohesive timeline in a fic that has no inconsistencies or continuity errors <3
17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.
I SHOULDNT! I shouldn’t get into it, Adi, you’ll be here for DAYS. I am having literally the time of my life writing up all the little background details for this fic right now (this is my lil chaptered groupie fic im working on) and I think Most of them will make their way into the text somehow so I won't give, like, too many spoilers But there’s also plenty of stuff that won’t make it in there! Like, I had to make up this fake band for the fic (Lovelace) and to do that, I had to plan their albums/setlist for their tour (so I knew what tf i was talking about when writing). And to do that, I had to write a little bit of every single song they have!! So for the last week or so, I made a masterdoc and wrote a verse or two from every single one of their songs (which is 24 songs so I'm kind of giving 5sos a run for their money). Obviously, a few of these lyrics will find their way into the fic (like I've already included some in the first chapter) but definitely not all of them (because a couple songs are written really badly lmao) so it’s just a pretty cool little secret thing to have to help me write !!! and then there’s also a lot of backstory/history about the forming of the band (and some band dynamic stuff) that me and Ashley have talked about but I don’t know how much of that will or won’t appear in the fic yet <3 there's also the whole planning all the venues and the shows dates and what hotels they're staying at aaaa. I could never work in the industry it's way too much planning. but i think the coolest part of the process so far has been designing and writing the albums <3
28. Who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? Why?
Aw this is a cute one. Hmm i think the answer is Take Notes Calum tbh!! He was so much fun to write and, honestly, I’ve really struggled trying to write any characters like him moving forward. Like he’s just kind of Weird. He’s very manic pixie dream boyfriend coded. I had the most fun writing Take Notes because it was so silly while also kind of serious and in most of my other work I struggle to really reattain that balance. Like I feel as though I tip either one way or the other and TN was really the only fic that rode the line super well. And I think that was in large part due to the way I wrote Calum in that fic so!! I really enjoyed him and wish I could write him again!!
35. What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?
Great question because there are a lot of writing “rules” i DO follow pretty closely so it’s hard to know exactly which ones I break. I’ve heard writers say to “avoid prologues” but I really love a prologue so that’s something. OO I will say !! a big rule of advice I got in high school creative writing was “don’t write a hobo in space story” (this is from a really good short story that talked about all the short stories you shouldn’t write lol) which is basically a story where two characters just hang out and talk and nothing really Happens except for them talking. And, honestly, i fucking love a hobo in space story. I love a scene where it’s just two dudes Talking. So i definitely do that sort of thing a lot even though i was told not to lol <3
#pigeon#adi#thank u for asking !!!#i LOVE WIIP GAMES#and these questions are so FUN#ily adi !!!#mwah
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
AMIGAS Y CHISME PODCAST
pairing: rutger mcgroarty x cami flores
notes: WELCOME TO MY NEW AU! pls do not think about the timeline of things described in this!! I am aware it might not make sense!! like always, please excuse any errors or inaccuracies.
cami & rut
Cami was in Los Angeles for the week which meant meeting up and working with all of her internet friends. She was most excited to meet with her friend Angie, who had her podcast, Amigas y Chisme, and wanted to record an episode with her. Cami loved talking to all who would listen to her, so agreeing to go on the podcast was an easy yes.
-
“Hi, guys! Welcome or welcome back to Amigas y Chisme! I’m Angie and today I’m joined by a special guest, the amazing, talented Camila Sofia Flores,” Angie says with excitement.
“Oh, full name. Wow,” Cami says laughing. “Hi, guys! This has been a long time coming.”
“I know! You’ve gotta come out to L.A. more often.”
“Girl, I’ve got school. I think you forgot we didn’t all drop everything to move to the City of Angels,” she says, slightly mocking Angie.
“Bitch,” Angie responds, not taking offense at all. “But speaking of school, how is that? I barely graduated high school so I have no idea what college life is like.”
“Well, for those who don’t know, I’m a film major at the University of Michigan. But yeah, so far it’s been really good. I feel like I’m thriving over there.”
“Yeah, I wanted to bring that up. Why Michigan? I know you’re from Texas, so why not stay close to home? Cause I know Santi, your older brother, stayed in Texas.”
“Michigan wasn’t even on my radar if I’m being honest. But then I saw a clip of their gymnastics team and was like ‘Oh. I didn’t know they had all this.’ So I checked them out and eventually fell in love.
“And I knew that moving so far away would give me an independence that I never would have gotten if I stayed in Texas. It would've been like a fresh start. But I wasn’t completely alone. Lina, my bestest friend ever, is also at Michigan, we’re doing gymnastics together. I wouldn’t have been so confident in moving to Michigan if it weren’t for her.”
“Oh my god. I was also gonna bring up your whole gymnastics thing. How did that become your sport? I feel like I’m asking you all the things I should have asked you when we first became friends,” Angie says laughing.
“My mom put me in gymnastics when I was like 3 or 4. I was just a kid who was always tumbling and doing little flips on the couch so she looked up a gym near us. But I also started soccer when I was like 7, so I was just doing both and I loved it. But my gymnastics coach said I could have a lot of potential if I really put all my time and energy into it, so my mom made the choice to take me off my little youth soccer team and took me to a bigger, more serious gymnastics training center.”
“Oh, wow. I had no idea you started that young,” Angie says.
“Yeah, that coach told my mom that because I had an early start I could grow up to be good.”
“And it sure did. I have this list of your accomplishments that I will now be reading,” she says, clearing her throat. Cami starts laughing and covering her face, growing slightly red. “You were a three-time regional beam champion and a two-time regional floor champion. You were the regional champion on the vault and in the all-around. You won the state championship on the vault, beam, and floor twice.
“Now I don’t know what any of that means but I said the word champion a couple of times, so I know you’re good. Girl, you should be in the Olympics.”
“Oh, I don’t know if I’m that good. Even if I was, I don’t think I’d be able to handle that pressure.”
“Hmm, I think your mom would disagree,” Angie says laughing.
“Stop. Have you been talking to my mom? Dude I swear she thinks I’m the best gymnast in the world,” Cami replies. “I don’t know how she had time to come to many of my meets. All her other kids are in sports too.”
“That’s where I think your mom went right. Like I wish my mom put me in a sport when I was little. Maybe then I’d actually be doing something with my life,” Angie jokes.
“No, stop. Don’t even say that. I’m technically doing the same thing as you.”
“And how did your mom react to that? Did you like ask her before you started posting or let her find out after?”
“Um, I definitely let her find out after I already posted a couple of videos,” Cami says laughing. “But it was very early on like I only had a couple thousand subscribers at the time and I was still in high school. She was very against it at the start. She was worried about my safety and was bringing up like every worst-case scenario. But I eventually got her to chill out and now she loves it. She loves being in the videos and even has her own TikTok now.”
“I see her videos all the time and I eat them up every single time. How did the rest of your family react?”
“My dad never really cared. Well, it wasn’t like he didn’t care, he just wasn’t as against it as my mom was. My dad’s always been that way, ‘As long as you’re safe and happy, I’m happy.’ Um, Santi didn’t care at the start but now he’s always like ‘I’m never in the videos anymore, my fans miss me.’ I always assure him that absolutely no one is missing him. And then the rest of my siblings were like ‘Okay?’ They didn’t care and weren’t interested in being in the videos at first. Except Cely. She’s always wanted to be in the videos, so I’m always taking her places with me.”
-
After reading the sponsors, Angie wants to find out more about Cami’s life in Michigan.
“So, as you know, I am all about the Chisme. I mean I created a whole podcast just so I can have an outlet for it. I am now going to ask you some questions and the goal of these questions is to try and get all the chisme out of you. Some are easy to answer and some might be more personal. Are you ready?”
“Damn, ok. Yeah, I’m ready.”
“Okay, first question. Are you in a relationship?” she asks with a smirk, already knowing the answer.
“Yes, I am,” Cami responds, already growing red.
“Please, tell us more. What’s his name? How did you meet? How did you get together? What’s he like? Please tell us all the details,” Angie says enthusiastically.
“You’re so annoying,” she replies laughing. “But, since you wanted to know so bad. His name is Rutger. [i made this next part up, don’t read too much into it :)] Um, we met on a random college tour. We were in different groups and passed by each other several times. We just walked past, gave each other a little smile but that was it. But then we ran into each other again in a dining hall. I got a closer look at him and thought he was cute but I was like whatever. I was with my mom and my sister and they went to get food so I was alone at a table. I was on my phone texting Lina cause she was going on the same tour later in the month.
“I remember I had just sent her a text when someone approached me and said hi. Surprise, surprise; it was Rut. I could tell he was nervous cause he kept messing with his hair and kept looking back at his table of friends. I was like ‘Hi?’ and he jumped straight into the small talk and asked me what I thought of the school. I remember we talked for a little bit and then suddenly he was like ‘I’m Rutger by the way.’ I introduced myself and he asked for my Insta. Now, I was a little hesitant to give it to him, cause I only had one account and it was the one connected to my YouTube. So he was gonna be able to see that I was verified and had all these followers and for some reason that was so embarrassing to me. But I sucked it up and gave it to him. We followed each other and then he said he had to go. And that was it.”
“Aww, that’s kinda cute,” Angie comments. “What did he think of your Instagram and YouTube?”
“He told me that he liked that I had it because it allowed him to learn more about me and my personality.”
“So how did you two get together?”
“Well, he DM’d me the next day. And then from there, we talked like every day. We didn’t meet up again until a couple of months later during my spring break. He flew to Texas and asked me to be his girlfriend. He met my entire family, but he wasn’t nervous at all.”
“Wait he flew to Texas, solely to ask you to be his girlfriend? Cami that is so fucking cute.”
“Well, yeah,” Cami says laughing. “He kept saying he wanted to see me again, so I told him to come. But when he got to Texas my parents were like ‘If you go out, take one of the kids with you.’”
“So they wanted you guys to have a chaperone?”
“Yeah, kind of. We always took Emily cause she was too young to care.”
“Aww, love her. She’s the cutest thing ever. Okay, next question. What does a typical day in your life look like?”
“Ooh. Um, it’s different every day. I’m a morning person so I gladly wake up at 6:30. I wake up and then I usually go to the gym. It’s either the gym or Pilates. I’ve been going to Pilates for a long time now. Um, then I go back home and get some work done before practice. Practice is usually in the morning. My classes are usually in the afternoon or the evening. So I have the rest of the time to relax and hang out with friends and Rutger,” she adds with a cheeky smile.
“Okay, all I got from that is that I could never be an athlete. I hate working out.”
“Oh, not me. It just makes me feel really good. And it gives me something to do,” Cami adds with a laugh.
“Okay, this last question is unrelated to your life in Michigan, but more for my own curiosity. Who is your favorite sibling?”
“Now why would you ask me that?” she asks after a moment of silence.
“Hey, now. Don’t go questioning my interview skills. Answer the question,” she says with a smirk.
“Ugh, whatever. I don’t have one favorite, I have two: Gabi and Cely. But it’s okay cause Chente is Santi’s favorite and Emily is the youngest so she’s my parents’ favorite.”
“Okay, I expected Cely cause obviously, but Gabi too? Really? Wow.”
“Yeah. You would expect him to be like ‘I’m too cool for you now’ but he was never like that. He still likes going out with me on random errands. And Cely’s always been like that. They’re both my little buddies.”
“Oh wow. And that concludes this portion of our video. Everyone give it up for Cami. Whoo!” she says, clapping. “Before we go, we have to do something very important. As you know, you guys can call in and leave messages for us to listen to and we asked you guys to ask Cami for any advice you think she could give you. Let’s play the first message!”
A recording starts playing: “Hi Angie! Hi Cami! My name is Brisa and I’m a huge fan of you guys, I’ve been watching you for years. The thing I need advice from Cami on is how to convince my Mexican parents to let me go to college out of state. I live in Idaho but my dream school is Stanford. I know you moved from home to go to college and I was wondering how you went about it. At this point, anything helps. Thanks, love you guys!”
“Hi Brisa! What I did was I convinced one parent at a time. I knew my dad would be more open to the idea, so I tried convincing him first because then I already had someone on my side when I talked to my mom. I say pick your battles. Do your research. Have a plan for every little thing because most of the time they will question everything. But I also think I wasn’t like most cases. I went up to my mom and said ‘Look, you’re the one that signed me up for gymnastics and you’re the one that wanted me to be the best. Michigan is going to help me succeed.’ Also, tell your parents that Stanford is a stone's throw away from Idaho. Tell them it could be worse, California is closer than, like, New York or something.”
“Okay, so what I got from that is guilt trip your parents,” Angie jokes.
“I mean if that’s what it takes,” Cami says, shrugging.
“Thank you, Brisa for submitting a message! Let’s play the second one.”
The second recording starts playing: “Oh my god! Hi, amigas! I’m such a big fan of both of you. I’m Jackie and I am looking for relationship advice. My boyfriend and I are going through a rough patch right now and I guess I just wanted to ask how you and your boyfriend find time for each other and keep the relationship steady. We’re both really busy with school and he’s an athlete so we were considering if taking a break was the best thing right now. Any advice helps! Thanks, amigas, love you. Bye!”
“Hi, Jackie! I’m sorry you guys are going through that right now. First of all, I know everyone says this but it’s true, communicate. You guys need to be able to communicate how you’re feeling to each other without any judgment. I know how busy both your schedules can get but try your best to carve out that time to spend with each other. Show your support to each other. He needs to make sure that he’s showing you he cares about you and what you’re going through and you have to do the same to him. But I think taking a break can be healthy if it's done right. As long as you communicate and set your boundaries, you don’t have to be scared of taking a break. It shows your maturity as a couple that you recognized that maybe a little separation can do you some good. I hope you both figure this out and come out of this stronger than ever,” Cami finishes, throwing out a little heart to the camera.
“Thank you so much Brisa and Jackie for sending your messages. I hope Cami was able to help you guys out. But that is all we have for you today. Cami, thank you so much for joining me today. It was so much fun and I can’t wait for you to be back again.”
“Thank you for having me! Next time you have to come to Michigan.”
“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” she jokes. “Ok guys, I’ll see you next week. Go subscribe and follow all of Cami’s socials. I love you guys, bye!”
“Bye guys,” Cami says, giving the camera a wave.
8 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
wil1lls1
Untitled
charlitoxc3
charliXC3 pt.2
debb7ecakes
Untitled
straycalamities
the angel from your nightmare