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babypinkhearts · 9 days

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know it’s for the better. - g. suguru

pairing: geto suguru + fem!reader, implied gojo satoru + fem!reader

summary: but butterflies cannot see their own beautiful wings, so he’ll gladly worship you quietly.

warnings: canon au, angst (please forgive me ily all), mentions of violence, vulgar language, crude humor, time-jumps, cameos from shoko, megumi, yuji, nobara :3 comfort.

word count: 16.8k

a/n: this fic has been my baby for a month, i’ve poured so much love into it. treat her well <333 loosely inspired by the songs “first love/late spring” by mitski and “waiting room” by phoebe bridgers. there are so many references to so many things in this :) some quotes that i will think about forever. hope you enjoy.

october, 2006.

“nine out of ten times.”

it’s the first sentence you say out loud after minutes of silence, and you’re given a puzzled look. it kinda makes you want to laugh, the confusion etched across his face so foreign that it’s rather intriguing. he’s golden, even under all the darkness. the world makes space for fallen angels.

“nine of ten times… what?”

you resist the urge to thumb that furrow in his brows, the creases looking wrong upon his soft features. you only smile, snuggling closer to him. either the room is magically colder, or suguru forgot to close the window. you give him the benefit of the doubt.

“that i would choose you.”

you’re slurring your words almost, but more from the plain laziness in your movements rather than from genuine exhaustion. suguru hums, fingers tapping along your arm. it may be around four in the morning, but you couldn’t sleep.

the both of you hadn’t been able to for a while.

not since riko, not since toji, and definitely not since the new scar trailing across your stomach. shoko hadn’t been able to make the repair seamless.

you didn’t really mind. a lot of things seemed pointless nowadays.

“and the other time?”

your eyes linger on the strand of hair that always falls imperfectly on his face. a little crack in his flawlessness, though you’re not sure how grand that observation actually is.

you sit up a bit, propping your head with your arm as you look down at his pretty brown eyes. narrow, as they currently are, but still evidently alluring.

“well, i think it’s okay to be selfish sometimes.” you reason, voice soft. sometimes the dependency you had with suguru worried you. waves can crash, but the water itself remains. you think you’ll always be bound to him. his, forever. and yet you say, “i’d choose myself. just for a bit of sanity.”

it’s meant to be lighthearted, but the silence that falls afterwards kills any tone of playfulness that statement might have held.

you wish you had been a little more greedy.

•••

september, 2007.

emotions were complicated things.

it’s complicated to process the bullet you watch fly through a child’s head. it’s complicated to process your near-death experience. it’s complicated to process process the news of your classmate’s death. it’s complicated to process how it’s expected for you to go back to normal. it’s complicated to process everything.

so you curl up further, and hope that the news you’re hearing now is only a nightmare. because again, it’s too complicated to process.

“he killed them.”

and with the way satoru says it, repeats it, you think he wants you to sit up and hug him. be vulnerable, because god knows it’s been so long since you have.

but you lay there, back in the bed that you used to sometimes share with the criminal. the stillness makes satoru’s stomach drop, and he can’t will himself to say it again just for the chance of getting a reaction from you. but how much pain can a heart take? because it felt like yours might give out at any moment.

you didn’t sign up for this.

naively, no, you didn’t sign up for this.

“how many?”

you’re not sure why you ask. any number would have you spiraling, but with the silent refusal satoru gives by not replying immediately, you’re sure the answer would kill you alone.

he knows. he knows the exact number, he’d seen the report.

but he stares at your desolate form, eyes scanning the mess in your room. or, lack of. he hardly saw you get get out of bed these days if it weren’t for missions. the only sign of movement from you were the plushies that used to adorn your bed, now sprawled on the floor. for a second, he wonders if they’re gifted from who he thinks they’re from. but that thought feels stupid the moment he thinks of it, because - yes. of course they were. that man had loved you like his lungs naturally loved air. he loved freely, graceful in the way he cared. about satoru, about you. anyone, really.

so saturo makes a decision, hoping that it alleviates a little bit of the ache that he now concludes he will attempt to shield you from. because he cares about you too much to see you succumb to your own internal wounds. he wants you to be strong, like him. like suguru was. he can’t lose you too.

“i don’t know.” satoru lies, and he hopes that sentence can at least ease your heartbreak. but he feels it just as much. sorrowful, the kind of pain he’s been too familar with for a while now. he frowns when you don’t move.

obstruct from his view, your hands grip your sheets as tight as humanly possible, and you’re sure that you break skin through the fabric. you want to cry, but you can’t. not in front of satoru. not while he’s right there.

because this doesn’t affect you. you didn’t care.

so what? suguru had left you to the wolves. to fend for yourself. he became a monster. it didn’t bother you.

and you try to convince yourself to think the same when satoru sits beside you. you’re still thinking it as his shaking hand places itself on your side.

but you give up when he lays beside you, feeling his grief. and that pain only cements itself further as you begin to quietly sob months worth of misery.

you don’t feel much better after.

•••

march, 2008.

nine out of ten times, you’d like to be given the option to wipe your memory.

the other time would be the ability to travel to the past. it’s hard to decide which could be better, or arguably worse. maybe you could save haibara - tag along on that stupid mission and fight that stupid curse. switch places with him, even. the world seemed a lot duller without him in it. nanami spoke even less than he did before. you couldn’t keep up a conversation with him.

was it irrational to think that you might have been able to kill toji too? he just caught you on an off-day. you’re the reason he killed riko. it’s your fault that a child is dead.

there’s so much to be sad about, you’ve started to confuse those ugly feelings with plain normality. it’s natural to feel like this. you can’t really remember better days. they’ve blurred, causing twisted retroactive interference.

your rock had fled. any form of stability you had crumbled with the weight of your sorrow, and you’re forced to miserably pick yourself back up because you’ve never really been used to being alone. satoru wasn’t really around anymore, and shoko never left her studies. you certainly weren’t abandoned, but, unfortunately, you understood that grief couldn’t just halt time forever.

you’ve mourned so much, it feels silly to still have the same ache.

but how do you even move on? what’s the process like? because you’re almost certain you wouldn’t be able to survive it.

you’ve began to rid any remnants of him in your room; any proof of his existence. clothes, specifically, because they hold on to his scent, and you think if you stop for a moment to actually look at them you might break down again. you see memories in them. times where he’s worn the black t-shirts, or his white button-up. insignificant at first glance, but it’s your life you’re holding on to.

you stuff them into bags as quickly as you can.

if he’s not here, he can’t hurt you.

at least, not anymore than he already had.

you think it’s cruel that you’re stuck with a person’s presence even if they’re not physically there anymore. you’ll always associate this room with him. the world, at that.

and maybe it’s childish that your first response (after the sulking) is to trash his belongings, but you can’t think of anything more rational to do. the universe will move on without him. you can’t be left behind too.

when you’re finished, you’re not sure if the sight of five large trash bags and an emptier room makes you want to sob or hit something. it’s like life has lost it’s color - a new vision, duller than what was deemed humane. torturous.

yet you can’t bring yourself to pick them up and take them out of the room. you’re idle, staring at them like they’re just meant to disappear. you hadn’t realized how much your room consisted of just him.

trash, is what you’re unintentionally calling everything in them. but you don’t think that, never in a million years.

if it were up to you, you’d keep everything exactly where it was, and obliviously continue a cheery facade. but the thing about awareness is that after it’s discovered, you can’t really leave it. it’s branded into your mind, poking at your brain with a stick because it will annoyingly never have the intention to leave you alone.

it’ll sit with you in your darkest hours, and you’re unable to predict when light will shine through.

“dump them.”

you jump, defenses high on alert as you instinctively fall back. almost immediately after, you drop your hands, sighing.

shoko is leaning against the doorway, arms crossed. you’re about to ask her how long she’s been standing there for, but her lingering gaze on your conflicting pile of issues answers your question before you have the chance to.

“i’ll do it for you.” she offers, finally looking up to meet your eyes. they’re a little sunken in, and she looks restless. it’s the first time you’ve seen her in nearly two weeks. she’s ditched the short hair since a few months back, the length sitting comfortably at her chest now.

you dumbly stare, non-respondent on purpose. you don’t want her to do that.

she seems to recognize the discomfort on your face at her suggestion, and you watch as her brows bitterly furrow, a small glare now directed at the bags. but you don’t get much emotion other than that.

“you can’t cling on to this shit. it’s unhealthy.” she softly explains, shaking her head. you wonder if that’s her medical opinion or genuine concern speaking, but you don’t ask her to elaborate. instead, you turn around, taking a seat at the edge of your bed.

you kind of want her to leave.

“what’s healthy, then?” you retort, shrugging. it sounded a bit hypocritical coming from her. shoko had barricaded herself for the past six months, not even offering an ounce of genuine sympathy. in reality, you know it’s because she’s naturally avoidant. she didn’t crave support like you did. she didn’t need it like you had. because shoko has always been independent, never strung up on people. and you envy that more than anything.

“i don’t know.” she answers honestly, pursing her lips. but with one look around your room, and she’s certain it wasn’t this.

hesitantly, lets herself inside, eyes scanning the bareness. if it were any other day, she’d see suguru at your desk, or on your bed. he’d wave, and you would greet her with open arms. everyone knew the two of you were nearly inseparable (if it weren’t for satoru). the room always had a pleasant atmosphere when the two of you were in it. it feels cold and grim now, though. shoko has to fight a shiver.

you observe her, waiting for a joke or two. you’re nearly hoping, because any form of comedic relief had begun to be your craving. you needed an escape from all of this.

but instead, she turns back to you and wordlessly sits beside your tense form. it’s quiet for a bit.

there’s a charm that shines on the top of your desk, catching her eye. it dangles among other souvenirs, and shoko has to avert her eyes when she realizes that they’re all gifts from a certain deceased underclassman.

everything about this room feels like a graveyard.

“satoru comes back today.” shoko suddenly says, letting the first thing she can think of be verbalized. her eyes stay on the wooden floor this time. “he’s been in kyoto for a couple of days.”

you hum, nodding. you didn’t know.

if shoko kept her distance, then it was like satoru had completely faded. you couldn’t even remember the last time he had texted you.

then again, you weren’t sure if you’d even respond.

“i was thinking we could eat dinner together… when he gets back.”

your head perks up. barely.

that sounded familiar. mostly because it had been a routine up until recently. never verbally established, but it was natural for you and shoko to be accompanied by two towering sorcerers as you ate whatever satoru had decided on for the day. he was a picky eater. there’s a bitter taste on your tongue as you realize you’d be missing a member now.

“we can.” you nod, awkwardly kicking your feet back and forth. silence again.

you can feel shoko’s annoyance. how she’s trying to get you to talk, but you’re stupidly stubborn and refuse to. however, she knows you a little too well, and plays the waiting game. because she knows you’re weak when it comes to your heart, and weaker when it comes to the people you love. her included.

it’s not a relief when you finally break. if anything, it’s painful to hear, to watch. and though it’s only one question, it’s so complicated that it feels like you’ve asked her how the universe itself was created. simultaneously, it’s equally as simplistic.

it doesn’t even sound sad. it’s hollow, void of any distinct emotion. you’re staring at the wall.

“shoko…” you don’t pay attention to how she stills and watches you intently. you’re oblivious to the frown on her face, how she leans in just a little closer. and the widening of her eyes as you finish speaking. “how are you… okay?”

you feel particularly pathetic. shoko was so strong. satoru was the strongest. and yet here you were, more fragile than ever. on an alter, you’re a mere viewer from below. simply watching perched gods, basking in all their glory. the difference always evident, never comparable.

and yet shoko stares for a little, dumbfounded.

no, absolutely no one was ‘okay.’ the world was crumbling in front of everyone’s eyes. but you’ve always been a reminiscent person, she supposes. you search for familiarity. it’s harder for you to let go.

“did i tell you that?” she asks, more rhetorically than anything. there’s a teasing tone that her voice holds, but it does little to rid the tension of your question. you slowly shake your head.

“then how do you know that’s true?”

you shrug, fiddling with your fingers. “i don’t know.”

you want to tell her that your thoughts are purely based on toxic comparisons to yourself, but the air feels a little thick already, so you don’t.

“c’mere.”

there is no protest made when she wraps her arms around you, and forces you to fall into your bed with her. the pillows under your heads dip, and you’re enveloped in the softness of your blankets. shoko’s warm, and if you closed your eyes you might mistaken her hold to be like a mother’s affection. evident adoration, just by the touch. you’re derived and soak it up as much as you can, leaning into her.

it reminds you of late nights where you’d have sleepovers and gossip until the sun came up. too tired to train the next day, yaga ordering laps regardless of your visible fatigue. and you’d run with gleeful smiles, energy lifting as you were side-by-side again. an unexplainable friendship one could never truly describe with words, just pure thoughts. it’s sickeningly nostalgic, because you think about the fact that it really had not been that long ago. how quickly things change.

shoko nuzzles her face into your hair affectionately and sighs. she squeezes you tightly. declarative - ‘i’m right here.’ never enough to make up for the lost time and avoidance, but enough for now. because shoko didn’t act like this normally, and for you to see her in such a state meant more than just any regular apology.

“i think you know how to love better than any of us.” she admits, and that sentence alone has you curling a little more into her, your chest suddenly feeling tight. she leans in, and her lips form into a sorrowful smile as she observes you. full of pure understanding. again, a connection that could not be made with words. it feels a little spiritual. she brushes a stray strand of hair away from your face. “that’s why you find it all so painful.”

hesitantly, you offer a sad smile, her words all bittersweet. it makes you laugh a little distastefully, the reality of them hitting you at once. “well, that’s not fair.”

“it’s not.” shoko agrees, nodding. “but it’s a lovely thing.”

you make a face. recently, it’s only brought you suffering. the good bits don’t seem as worth it - as ‘lovely’ as she describes.

you pause, contemplating for a little. and your voice is affirmative, like you’ve never been more sure in your life. you kinda sound like a naive child.

“i don’t want it. take my feelings. i don’t like them.”

it’s true. it’s the biggest truth you’ve ever told with the biggest sincerity. and you know it’s not possible, that you’re stuck like this forever. a soft, easygoing heart that beats for everyone around it. your words make shoko snort - a real genuine laugh. you giggle through watery eyes.

“the world sucks.”

this time, it is a pitying smile that shoko gives you. lop-sided, and hesitant. she feels bad.

her arms leave you, and she opts to instead lay facing you, faces mere inches from one another. you’re both laying on your cheeks, against folded hands. shoko taps your nose.

“you know what i think?”

you hum, sniffing a little as you try to focus on the small amount freckles across her face instead of the overwhelming urge to let some tears fall. it works, for the most part. you count twenty.

“i think the world gives strong feelings to strong people.”

you smile at that.

shoko was something else.

“i’m pretty fucking strong then, aren’t i?” you mumble, tired eyes blinking as you sigh. shoko’s eyes crinkle as she returns the fondness, a hand resting on your cheek.

“definitely.”

and you can only hope she’s right.

there’s nothing that interrupts those sweet moments of tranquillity. where you can act like everything is just a little better, because in all honesty, it was. shoko’s good at making you feel like that.

if you really thought hard enough, this could be just another regular day. you want it to be.

you feel shoko’s finger poke your chest, and she gives you a pointed look. it’s like she could read your mind - subconsciously, as if she had the ability of a third eye.

“it gets easier. every day it gets a little easier. but you gotta do it every day — that’s the hard part.”

she leaves it at that.

you lay together, appreciating each other’s mere presence. and it feels nice. support, like you craved, but words even more. you aren’t able to formulate how much you adore her, but actions speak louder than words, so you shuffle just a tiny bit closer.

you’re not sure how much time passes by.

when shoko stands up, she rids you of her warmth, leaving the cocoon of wonder and comfort she’d so gracefully created for you. yet you feel fine, that isolating shiver now replaced with content. you think you feel a little lighter too.

“be outside by seven. if it’s up to me, we’ll all get sushi. no promises though.”

she’s back to being more standoffish, but still your same shoko. you nod appreciatively, the thankfulness worth the weight of a million tons. your eyes follow her as she walks across the room.

the door shuts, and you’re left alone again.

you can feel your heart beat a little faster, the realization of your commitment to the later plans finally dawning upon you. it would be the first real reunion since then. maybe a chance to talk things out. be levelheaded, get some communal closure.

or, maybe you’d be able to ignore the past and focus on the present. just act like friends eating lunch. because that’s all it was, wasn’t it?

begrudgingly, you force yourself to stand, too aware of the fact that your habits of wasting time in bed have far exceeded a reasonable amount over the past few months. it was time to get better, be better.

your hands grab the first bag.

it’s heavy, as you imagine all the other ones are. but you suppose if you don’t think about what’s in them, it’ll make the process a lot smoother.

you’re nearing the door when you stop.

it’s a small paper, it’s yellow exterior almost blending in with the sunlight escaping through the windows. you inch closer.

and it’s pathetic that the sight of his handwriting on a sticky-note makes you lose your breath. shameful, because how are inanimate objects this damaging?

it’s hung above your desk. by haibara’s gifts, and by notebooks you never really used in this academically-lackluster school.

you stare at it for a while, hand resting over your forehead as you take in every minuscule detail. you let go of the bag.

it’s the last note suguru had ever left you, made a few weeks before his disappearance. before everything went downhill. little poetic phrases that would embed themselves in your mind until death. you’re afraid to look.

it’s neatly written, displayed in purple ink. doodles of clouds and flowers surround the words. he had a habit of leaving them around. you suppose you never caught this one.

there’s a little heart next to his signature, encapsulating just a memory of lost devotion.

‘how strange to dream of you, even when i am awake.’

your hand crumbles the note in a second.

the paper is evidently weak, and when you open your hand back up, the words are still clearly there, haunting you. and you know you don’t have the heart to throw it away. or, realistically - throw anything away.

you fold the note gently, and leave it on your desk. your body yearns to leave, to escape the suffocation of what suddenly felt like walls that were caving in. you slam the door on your way out, bags and all left behind.

you’d definitely prefer to wipe your memory.

•••

april, 2005.

“you’re so annoying.”

satoru grins, standing proudly as you repeatedly attempt to hit him on the head, your touch stopped by his infinity. he’d only recently learned how to control it decently - claiming that he needed to because you had a bad habit of using him as your punching bag.

“you know what though? this is a good thing.” you muse, arms crossing as you finally give up. satoru’s head tilts, and you raise a brow. “no one wants to touch you anyways.”

there’s a dramatic pout that immediately finds itself on his face, and he whines from instinct, letting his guard down for a moment to shove you. you slap his arm before he has a chance to react.

“she’s right.” suguru nods affirmatively, earning a gasp from the white-haired male, and suddenly, suguru is being shoved too. you giggle, briefly making eye contact with him. it’s a little too quick for your preference, but the stolen glance has you holding your breath for a moment.

it’s exhilarating.

suguru is beautiful in a way that is hard to describe. but it’s not from a loss of words; you can speak endlessly about him. he’s everything a person could dream of and more. but it’s little gestures that truly draw you to him. how it seems like he always lingers, attentive and patient no matter what boulders you seem to throw at him. he’ll carry that weight on his shoulders easily, and with the most effortless smile. it’s a gentleness that you weren’t even sure was possible before you met him. he defies all expectations, all normalities.

“oh, i forgot to ask-“ satoru turns to you, raising his brows. sometimes his glasses bothered you. his eyes were freakish, yes, but you also had a conflicting urge to always look at them. “how’d your mission go yesterday?”

you cringe, involuntarily stiffening as you replay the events in your head.

“stupid semi-first grade. i let my guard down for a second and it almost clawed me.” you sighed, rolling your eyes. you fail to notice suguru’s eyes widen. “but we exorcised it right after. i swear i saw nanami shit himself.”

there’s a stark difference in reactions from both boys. while satoru snickers, suguru stays quiet. white and black.

“glad you’re still with us.” satoru beams, ruffling your hair before you have a chance to swat his hand away. “right, suguru?”

all attention flocks towards him, and you and satoru patiently await his response. he’s looking off to the side.

he feels a little childish.

there’s an uncomfortable pit in suguru’s stomach that he can’t shake off, and he swallows thickly, nodding with a dismissive cough. “yeah, glad it went well.”

obliviously, you flash him a thankful smile.

it makes him feel the tiniest bit better.

he wished yaga would pair you two together, or even put you with satoru. an actual backup - not someone below your skill level. haibara and nanami weren’t comparable; they were still new to jujustu. younger, less experienced. he holds a little resentment towards your abilities, and while he knows you’re never sent on missions that are tougher than you can handle, he always has an inkling of worry that lingers uncomfortably. he hates not being around you - not knowing if you’re okay. and he knows you’re a reckless fighter. you brush off the mention of critical injuries and move on, completely unbothered. the burden of stress came so easily when he was around you and satoru.

“you have another one tomorrow, right?”

you hum, nodding as you fiddle with the end of your uniform, sighing softly. “it’s across town i think. not sure who’s coming with me yet - maybe it’ll be shoko if i beg hard enough.”

suguru has to fight a wince. also not an ideal companion. shoko didn’t specialize in combat.

she’d only be actual help if you were wounded, and -

“why not me or satoru?”

he speaks before he thinks, and iternally, he punches himself in the face. he can see satoru stop moving in his peripheral vision. he thinks he sees a smirk. coy, but no words come out.

scoffing, you deadpan. “where’s the practice in that? you guys will kill it before i even get a chance to see it.”

and that’s true, because it’s happened dozens of times before. show-offs.

“we can get kikufuku after!” satoru exclaims, completely disregarding you as you begin to protest rather loudly. “i’ve been craving it. i haven’t had it since last week!”

“wait longer.” you sneer, glaring at him. “i rather go alone.”

now that, suguru would verbally be clearly against, without any hint of shame.

“boo.” satoru deflates, rolling his eyes at you. “that won’t even happen.”

it wouldn’t. you hadn’t earned that trust yet - the absolute certainty that you’d survive if you did a mission alone.

suguru’s glad.

“not yet.” you chirp, and the hopeful smile on your face doesn’t help anything. “but soon enough.”

there’s that unwavering aura you always hold that makes suguru feel a little sick. it’s determination, stubbornness, that follows you and keeps you whole. when you talk like that, words void of any doubt, he knows you mean it. and you’ll accomplish it, because your will for achievement is stronger than your rationality.

but he has you now, right in front of him, so he’ll ease himself of the worry. for now.

“in a million years.” satoru remarks, sticking his tongue out at you, not even bothering to look your way as you hold up a rather unpleasant finger in his direction. playful banter was regular between you two; you fed off of each other’s energy. suguru seemed to be the mediator.

an observer, with eyes particularly always lingering on one certain person.

•••

spring has flowers blossoming again, and you feel inclined to stay out for as long as possible. the confinements of your dorm feels like an obstacle, and it’d be a waste to miss out on the beauty that winter’s absence welcomed.

it’s perfect weather.

the cursed weapon in your hand had begun to feel rather light, your arm adapting to the overpowering weight. you disliked close-range combat, but you were being sent on tougher missions now, so there was no room for complaints. your abilities needed to strengthen.

and it’s frustrating, really. to have to constantly forgo complete confidence and figure out where you’re weakest; you could easily make a list with areas of needed improvement. a lot of your classmates seemed to lack that issue. you suppose what’s worse is that you’re completely aware it wasn’t a competition - but you had convinced yourself that at the least, you needed to stay on their level.

even if that meant working ten times harder, even if that meant exerting yourself past a reasonable amount.

but this routine has gotten you this far, and, sincerely, it hadn’t been too much of a problem to keep up with.

in fact, you could probably do a little more.

“you shouldn’t train so much, you’ll strain yourself.”

your stance falters, though you easily recover within the same second. maybe a little too late, but you tried not to be nit-picky. he was naturally quiet.

“i gotta keep up with everyone somehow.” you quickly grin, trying to calm the visible pants of your labored breathing. it’s futile, and you momentarily turn away, as if embarrassed to look anything but perfectly composed. to look less than him - or anyone, really.

your back is towards him.

suguru can read you perfectly. it’s with ease that’s almost completely overbearing, and some part of him believes that he’s only been put on earth to watch out for you. like it knows that you aren’t the kindest when it comes to yourself.

it’s so natural that he supposes it might be his true purpose.

you only hear him hum from behind you, and suddenly there’s a weight pushing down on your raised weapon, ushering it towards the floor. gentle fingers graze against yours, and you let him grab it from you, albeit with some hesitation. he places it on the floor.

“let’s take a break, yeah?”

he doesn’t even need to coerce you, you’d follow him blindly if he asked. you always do.

and he’s leading you, knowing you’re behind him without having the urge to look back and check. exhaustion lingers, but you’re too entranced by him to focus on the sore ache of your limbs. he’s graceful as he walks.

“we trained this morning.”

you freeze momentarily, looking off to the side with a shrug. it’s not that he sounds hostile - it’s just a bit more monotone than normal. “practice makes perfect.”

suguru makes a noise of acknowledgment, but it sounds a bit absentminded and dull, lacking any understanding. like a huff of annoyance.

“right.”

he shouldn’t be this bitter, this cold, when speaking to you. it’s rough against his tongue, and his entire body, mind and all, is actively telling him to stop. emotions are ugly things, though. it makes people less rational; less aware - say things they may regret.

suguru slows his steps, up until you’re beside him, where you should be. and by a glance at you, he knows he’s gotten too uncharacteristically rigid. you’re looking at him, confusion clouding your head. concern, actually. he sees it now.

“did i do something wrong?”

the meekness in your voice, haunted with worry, clears his senses in a millisecond. his eyes widen. panicked, he feverishly shakes his head.

“no — no. of course not.”

he sees you relax a bit, but you’re still looking questionably at him. your head tilts. “then?”

suguru sighs, swallowing thickly as he stops walking. it’s an enchanting sight, grassy fields just a little off main campus. you see a few flowers.

you follow after him as he sits, greenery cushioning your bodies as you settle. suguru picks at the weeds, his eyes on the floor. he speaks quiet, voice among the gentle breeze as his hair flows in waves. you have the urge to remove his hair-tie and see it fully.

“i just worry about you.”

you don’t even attempt to hide the slight flustered smile that finds itself on your face, body feeling overwhelmingly warm. he’s avoiding eye contact for once. l

it’d be a lie if you claimed you didn’t notice the tension - the smiles, the laughs, the soft-spoken volume of his pure voice. so silky smooth it’d rid you of all your worries in a second. but there’s something so alluring about never saying it out loud. like it’s your little secret the two of you can keep, because adoration itself is something so beautiful it needed to be dragged out for as long as possible. you’ve grown to be a little impatient, though.

you nudge him teasingly.

“don’t. i’m right here.”

and it’s true; suguru sees it as a privilege. to be around your presence, to just talk to you — he worships the ground you walk on, and he’s not sure how to tell you that might be the reason why he worries so much.

instead, he chuckles, head bowing momentarily.

“i wish it were that easy.”

you bring your knees to your chest, giggling lightly.

he’s cute.

undeniably.

“it is.” you urge, dragging out the last syllable as you sway towards him. he meets your eyes. “just trust me like i trust you.”

suguru thinks that you’re sometimes oblivious to the weight of your words. they can be so intimate, and you’ll deliver them like any other sentence. as if you hadn’t just made his stomach churn, and his heart beat a little faster. he trusts you more than a healthy amount. he’d trust you with his life, his future — he’d leave everything in the palms of your hands.

“i do.” he replies, reassuringly. it’s earnest, and you smile. suguru bites the inside of his cheek, and closes his eyes. “it’s everything else that scares me.”

and there’s really nothing you can really do to help that fear, because you know it’s completely reasonable and realistic. tomorrow is never promised, especially with the hectic lives you live. you want to tell him that you have similar thoughts when he and satoru are out for days at a time, no return window strictly placed. that it has you pacing back and forth until their arrival, and even then you downplay your relief. but that’s a little embarrassing to say when he’s listening so intently, so you keep quiet.

you turn to him, shrugging with a smile you pray looks more optimistic than sorrowful.

“we can only ever hope for the best.”

a little hollow, less declarative than preferred, but it works the same. suguru nods in silent agreement.

suguru used to think that exceptional beasts like you and him could not fall in love — that it was the secret of ordinary people. for beings, who can alter the world, were special in indescribable ways. but he’s grown to be more open-minded, more accepting.

because what else could he do? you were so irresistible that it ceased the existence of his birth-given psychology. his mind, altered just for you.

“you know… you don’t have to prove yourself of anything.”

this time, it’s suguru who nudges you. he leans in, and you feel his hair brush against your arm. it tickles, but you don’t flinch. your body naturally welcomes the proximity, tingles and goosebumps etching across your skin. you squint, waiting for him to elaborate. and he does, with one validating sentence that kinda erases the possibility of self-doubt. just for a bit.

“i think you’re strong.”

he’d move stars for you, talk to the moon if it meant you got to keep the shimmer in your pretty eyes. and he’d ask the sun to stay out longer so he could continue seeing your rosy cheeks.

he’d gladly live for infinity if he could be the reason you get flustered forever.

you’re very pretty like this.

his eyes are watchful, observant as you scoff bashfully, avoiding him. and you quietly respond, with that same soothing voice. he thinks it could be a lullaby.

“i think you’re strong too.”

suguru smiles, nodding and all-knowing. he pokes you playfully.

“i know.”

you’d complain, but his tone lacks any arrogance. just a statement, enough said. because he knows how you think, how you observe.

and while you don’t say it out loud, your eyes are telling him ‘thank you.’

how beautiful the act of reading an expression is. of knowing a person so easily it’s like clockwork, unraveling intricate details to form a conscious understanding.

he watches your eyes narrow, and awaits a question he knows is on the tip of your tongue. your face looks a certain way during contemplation.

“you like doing this stuff?” you ask, tilting your head. “being a sorcerer, i mean.”

as if the two of you had other options. you didn’t.

but there’s something comforting about answering known questions. speaking the obvious into existence, letting the information linger in the air.

“i like it.” suguru replies, smiling. “if you get rid of the bad stuff.”

his voice gets quieter at the end, but you save him the questioning glance and smile back.

you hum, nodding. “like what?”

and you can name a million bad things. every day is a reminder of them. the two of you have that in common. but thankfully, the world has been kind enough to not let you experience them. your optimism hadn’t been tainted.

and as you expressed to him — you try not to dwell over the ticking clock, only ever hoping for the best.

suguru’s hands are behind him, propping himself up as he gazes at sheer, distant clouds. the sky is a pretty mix of yellow, orange, and red. evening approaches.

“well, all that self-sacrificing stuff for the betterment of mankind — for starters.” he sighs, head leaning back. you wonder if you imagine the way the slight slivers of sun sparkle against his skin, and how angelic his aura seems in that very moment.

you scoot a little closer, gaze matching his as you look upwards.

“we’re helping so many people, though.” you reply, glancing at him for a second. his eyes are closed, like a cat basking in the warmth of the light. you want to kiss his cheek.

“we are.”

“i think it’s cool.”

“it is cool.” he affirms, nodding. one eye opens, and he shamelessly stares as you obliviously observe the world. suguru is suddenly grateful that this view is currently only reserved for him, as he’s sure anyone would fall in love with you in this exact moment. yet, at the least, he wants you to see yourself in his neutral vision.

but butterflies cannot see their own beautiful wings, so he’ll gladly worship you quietly.

he looks at your hand on the grass, right beside his. it’s contemplation that’s been built up for months, thoughts of you invading all his senses. suguru figures that if he had a flower for every time he’s thought of you, he could walk through a garden forever. he inches his fingers closer.

and pauses when they’re less than a centimeter away, pulling back as you break the silence.

“i mean, i’d die for you guys too.”

suguru tenses, and you grow nervously quiet from the sight of his surprised expression, feeling suddenly embarrassed. an awkward laugh leaves your lips in an attempt to ease the gloom of your words, and you mindlessly wave your hand. “if it came down to it, y’know.”

you would in a heartbeat. you’d do it a thousand times over if you could, but you don’t tell him that. that proclamation is reserved for only you.

and as suguru looks over at you, stares, he doesn’t think he’ll ever despise an idea more than he does now. it’s blazing, the thought horrendous.

“don’t say stuff like that.” he demands, shaking his head brazenly. you can feel his eyes still on you, and he’s lost his smile. “don’t ever.”

all the defense, the stoicism, stemming from the thought that — yes. he 100% believed you would die for anyone. and that terrified him more than anything.

suguru isn’t sure how to communicate his thoughts in a softer way. he doesn’t mean for his demeanor to grow so cold again, but it bothers him - makes him sick - that you can say things like that so easily.

“i didn’t — i’m sorry.” you stutter, eyes wide. you swallow thickly, “sorry.”

and again, it’s hard to be upset with you.

but this, he can be against. he needs to be.

“you can’t think like that.” suguru speaks, softer this time. it’s pleading, as if he’s begging for a bit of mercy. and he is. “please.”

he wants to tell you that it’s okay to be selfish, to prioritize yourself first. but it would seem a bit hypocritical coming from him, because he knows he’d throw everything away in a whim if it meant keeping you safe.

love blinds him, he supposes.

“okay.” you nod, eyes on the floor. “i won’t.”

you’re considerate enough to lie, despite knowing full well that your words don’t align with your mind whatsoever. and you think suguru knows that.

he’s staring. you can feel it, eyes as intense as a midnight sky. you feel a little afraid to look up and meet them.

but it’s only instinct when he speaks your name softly, a coaxing whisper among suffocating tension.

you think he looks ethereal when being clouded with concern. godly, towering upon you. the magnitude of his gaze truly shows with the lack of distance. you register the feeling of his hand on yours before anything else, the touch searing from pure shock. a large palm covers your skin.

“… i’m sorry. i just care about you a lot.”

worry is care. it’s one of the greatest devotions — the act of panic for another person.

suguru thinks that romance may actually be the most horrific thing in life. that it’s not curses, but love. it’s the deepest weakness.

“you kill me when you get injured — when you speak like that.” he mutters, and the two of you don’t say a thing as his hand inches higher.

it feels a little harder to breathe.

“can’t promise i’ll stop.” you reply, a pitying smile finding it’s way on your face as you watch him close his eyes briefly.

“i know.”

suguru feels a little like a broken record player, doomed to repeat the same phrases like it’s clockwork.

it’s futile, you’re mutually aware.

he can’t control you, he’s unable to dictate what decisions you make — no matter how stupid, or how horrid they are to him. but he can’t bring himself to stop trying. maybe, if you’re reminded your value, you’ll eventually think the same.

but, honestly, the way you’re looking at him right now could make him believe anything.

“did you find out who’s joining you tomorrow on your mission?”

the corner of your mouth quirks upwards, and he knows your answer before you say it out loud. he grins.

your other hand places itself on top of his, and you smile back. heart giddy, but you try your best to keep your composure.

“i pulled a few strings.”

•••

december, 2015.

you wonder if growing up not only changes your body, but your soul.

because it takes a long time to realize how truly miserable you are, and even longer to see that it doesn’t have to be that way.

it’d be kinda hard to feel your unhappiness now, regardless.

“i prefer if you keep them outside, megs.” you wince, eyeing the dirt-covered paw prints on the hardwood floor.

the two perpetrators stand on either side of their summoner.

flushed and clearly embarrassed, megumi curtly nods. his hair moves the slightest with the movement, and he turns his head away from you, kicking his foot back and forth. “sorry, i wasn’t thinking.”

the dogs leave your eyesight quickly after. you snort, playfully rolling your eyes at him, walking over to ruffle the dark spikes on his head.

“it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” you smile, silently pleased when he doesn’t move away from the ministration. he’s always been more lenient with you, a fact you hold high over a certain white-haired sorcerer. “plus, i’ll just make satoru clean it up.”

if you had blinked, you might had missed the way megumi’s mouth quirks up, satisfaction clear as day. it makes you giggle, up until you finally inspect him closer. your eyes linger on the dirt covering the side of his white shirt, and you softly sigh, pursing your lips.

“how was the curse?” you ask, nudging him a little where the stains are most prominent. “roughed you up a bit, huh?”

megumi’s introduction to jujustu wasn’t entirely seamless, but he was definitely a natural. an anomaly, like satoru. born with talent.

you watch as his face turns sour, and his eyes suddenly narrow, the stoic expression more familiar. he avoids your gaze and looks at the door expectantly, mumbling something under his breath.

“what?” you reply, brows furrowing as you lean a little closer in hopes he’ll repeat himself. megumi’s mouth opens again, and he’s about to, but an obnoxious ‘i’m backkkk!’ interrupts him.

you share an unimpressed look with the younger boy.

satoru strides inside, whistling with a grin. you’ve spent too much time with him, years ticking off your lifespan from both the annoyance and contentment that he simultaneously brings into the world. he and megumi had left early in the morning, and it was around midday now — too long with him, as you can clearly pinpoint on latter’s face.

satoru’s hands are in his pockets, and he shuts the door with his shoulder, leaning back against it.

“missed us?” he smiles, and he walks over to throw an arm around megumi, which is immediately thrown off. satoru glares momentarily, but quickly looks back up at you, clearing his throat. “missed me?”

you stare, sighing softly before gently tugging megumi towards you.

“i missed megumi.” you correct, crossing your arms. your head motions to him, “and why does it look like he got pushed on the floor? i thought you said-“

“it was a grade three!” satoru immediately exclaims, and points to the boy beside you in accusation. “he told me not to get involved.”

despite his adult frame, satoru never really outgrew his childishness, still quick to blame anyone other than himself. his defensiveness was mildly irritating, but you've come to grow used to it. your head shakes disapprovingly, and you huff. “he’s thirteen, you idiot.”

satoru’s smile turns a little mischievous as megumi looks at you quizzically, a frown on his face. “so?”

you rub your head in annoyance, ignoring satoru’s ‘oooo,’ and gently flick megumi on the forehead. “you’re not an official student yet. dealing with curses by yourself can wait. for now, you fight with satoru.”

satoru dramatically sighs, and much to your dismay, approaches you. his arm infamously wraps itself around your frame, body leaning towards you, and it feels like the weight of an elephant, crushing you as you stumble. he doesn’t let up. “you worry too much. and he exorcised it! maybe with a little less ease than expected, but-“

he grunts when a hand collides with his side, and you’re too busy pushing him off to see the way he sticks his tongue out at megumi.

maybe your concerns were a little irrational, but your heart was in the right place. megumi was still young, still enrolled in a normal middle school — albeit, close to his last year — and you had originally planned to keep him completely innocent for just a while longer. no world of killing, curses, and whatnot. but satoru had pushed him into it within the first few months of his complicated adoption, and you secretly knew that there was nothing you could do to completely shield that side of the ugly world for him.

so, you suppose the least you could do was teach him how to protect himself. in case you or satoru couldn’t.

“well,” you sigh, defeatedly. there’s a lopsided smile on your face, and you expectantly look to megumi. “how was it, then?”

there’s a boyish smile, a little shy, that appears on his face. “cool.”

“see!” satoru grins, arms raising in victory. “he loved it, and he should probably do it more often-“

“fine, fine.”

it’s always been pretty futile to argue with satoru. not only is he stubborn, but painstakingly arrogant. he tends to think his ideas are always the best, simply because they’re made in his very head. and you can’t discredit them, because normally, they’re alright. but it can be frustrating. he’s also really hard to deny.

it’s only natural to give in. just so you can avoid drawing it out.

“awesome! i think he’s ready for a special grade!” satoru claps his hands, and you deadpan, rolling your eyes.

“don’t kill my kid.” you mutter, shaking your head as you turn, ignoring the way satoru’s smile settles into something a little more genuine. heartfelt, maybe.

truth be told, you’d trust satoru with everything and more. you worry and fret, but at the end of the day, he’ll still be there. he’s been stuck to you like glue for years now, and it didn’t help that you practically live under the same roof. different rooms, but realistically having no actual space. it’s nice, and you really do hold him in your heart deeply. at an arm’s length.

you end up being stuck with cooking dinner yet again — satoru winning because otherwise he’d ’poison the kids’ (which, you think is stupid because he could easily just follow a recipe. also, he’s used that excuse before.) — and it’s like clockwork, a routine, when you find yourself sat across from him on the couch afterwards, tsumiki and megumi long gone in their respective rooms.

you’ve found that gojo satoru acts a bit differently when it’s just the two of you. less irritable, and easier to talk to; you’ve noticed this since you met him. his voice gets quieter, the blindfold comes off, his hair falls, and you’re presented with a more raw version. and maybe the kids get a different version too, but you find that hard to believe when megumi’s distaste is so palpably strong.

“movie?” satoru asks, peeking at you through narrow eyes. his face is a little smushed by his palm as he leans against the armrest, and there’s a lazy smile on his face. he looks kinda tired, weirdly enough. exhaustion is so foreign on his face that it looks almost fake. you wonder how much he slept last night, spotting hints of darkness beneath the pretty blue of his vision.

you think it’s strange that you don’t get sick of his presence, even after all this time. that’s it’s forever missed more than loathed. you’re always in such close proximity, practically doing everything together, and yet you find that crave him every second he’s not beside you. pitifully, it might just be the attachment issues you’ve subconsciously formed, and have unfortunately plagued satoru with. but that reason just seems a little too sad for you to fully admit. everything realistic is somehow bitter. you softly sigh, momentarily closing your eyes.

you’d love to stay, just to hear his idiotic rambles and comments. they always brought more substance than the film itself. and he’s been gone all day. you rub your forehead, feeling a small inkling of guilt.

“i have a mission later.” you reply, apologetically, and smile sincerely. “but when i come back, yes.”

an active report coming from a town over — information on paper only describing the energy as ‘ominous.’

“oh,” satoru’s eyes widen, and though you’re unable to read the exact emotion on his face, he seems a little alarmed. nearly wincing. he’s kinda upset that you didn’t tell him sooner, that being visibly clear — but then again, did you really have an obligation to? he didn’t really tell you whenever he had missions. but that was because he’d return in a few quick hours every time. satoru didn’t like being gone for too long either. he never dragged out his departures; he hated to leave you by yourself, even if the kids were with you. it feels a little cruel. you watch his eyes dart towards the windows, and he shifts, facing you. the movement is a little awkward, and he pauses before his speaks, hesitant with his words. “want me to go with you? it’s kind of late.”

it’s sweet that he asks.

“satoru,” you chuckle, tilting your head. “it’s a couple of second grades. i’ll be fine.”

a little white lie, but you craved some action. satoru always got stuck with the interesting missions, and even then they posed no such threat to him. all of your assignments were simple, too easy to be considered enjoyable. if this was going to be the route you were taking in life, — exorcising curses — then you could at least make it somewhat fun.

satoru can tell something’s off. you’re too dismissive, and you won’t look at him directly. but he feels as though it’s not his place to scold you, and he trusts you dearly, so he ignores his gut.

“alright.” he shrugs, his arms moving behind his head as they nonchalantly cross, contrasting the way he feels a little unusual. “call me if you need anything.”

•••

december brings cold winter air, and you blow into your palms, attempting to warm the skin that’s begun to grow a little numb.

more people should go on nightly walks, you think. maybe then it’d be more calming. every street you’ve turned to is nearly empty, the only comfort being provided by dim overhead lights. but you suppose you’ve gone through more fearsome events, so this shouldn’t really be that big of a deal.

it’s a little frustrating to be walking around so aimlessly. the report gave no specific location, just the brief mention of a couple of previous sightings. by now, they’d more-than-likely dispersed to other areas.

you’re slightly tempted to call satoru for some help, as you’ve never been the best at detecting curses at a long-range, but you refrain.

it was late, and you know he’d probably never let you live it down.

satoru would never say ‘no’ to you. but there comes a price with that reliability and expectancy. small instances, like when you caught a cold, and had asked him to order for you at a coffee shop because your voice had been to sore to do so. he complied, but not without a relentless amount of teasing, even going to far as to lie to the barista, saying ‘sorry, she’s just really shy.’ he lived for your embarrassment, and it was generally harmless, so you couldn't reprimand him for it.

but sometimes every time, he’d have his own small apology. like how right after you had returned home, there was soup coincidentally ordered on your front porch.

satoru had walked inside without looking at you.

he can be tolerable. rarely.

you're nearly persuaded to go back home, midnight beginning to take a toll on your tired eyes. as far as you were aware, the curses hadn't caused harmful havoc. but it'd be pretty humiliating to head back without a small victory, and even then you'd probably stay up feeling guilty.

unintelligible whispers break you out of your thoughts, and you blink, eyes scanning the area.

goosebumps arise, and your head turns.

finally.

you nearly jump when you see it, though keep your composure, standing straighter.

it’s hardly detectable, as it stands. fairly large too. it might actually be a second grade.

you huff, brows furrowing as you inspect the curse. this was the cause of the ‘ominous’ energy? you feel it, but it’s looks don’t work well with it’s written description. maybe you’d be heading home sooner than you expected.

your hand reaches behind you to grab your weapon, and you move forward, testing to see how fast it’s reflexes are.

it doesn’t move.

you pause, rolling your eyes briefly.

“at least put up a fight, dude.” you mumble, nearly sighing as it continues to plainly watch you. you walk a little closer, up until you’re only a few feet away, and hum. “you’re not the brightest…”

you insert your weapon back into it’s sheath, and stare. it’s been a while since you’ve had the chance to see a curse so closely. they’re all usually extremely reactive, not sparing you a second before attacking. violence is their prime instinct; the main thought in their heads.

when you reach your hand to poke it, and it still doesn’t budge, you know something is wrong.

oh.

your entire body stills, and you’re certain that you feel your stomach drop to the floor.

something felt familiar.

confirming your terrible suspicions, the curse disappears in front of your very eyes. not exorcised. you’re staring at the empty space that it once occupied, too bothered by the fact that your heartbeat has picked up ten times faster.

you almost reach for your phone, but stop, feeling as though it wouldn't be the wisest decision.

this suddenly all feels a little too calculated. you don’t even attempt to grab your weapon again.

shock numbs your bones. it bleeds through and renders you useless.

you hear your name before you see him, and you figure it feels the same as the nearly-fatal slash toji had given you almost a decade ago. so painful that it makes your heart stop. it’s spoken with such intimate fondness — too much for your poor heart to comprehend.

his ubiquity is so daunting that you’re sure all time ceases to exist.

you don’t want to turn around. you want to run, flee before you know it’s too late. before you hear him speak, and the world comes crashing down all over again. you’ve tried so hard to piece it back together. every tiny detail - you’re not sure if you’d be able to start over. why now? when you’ve finally been better. when you finally believed that normality was even possible to achieve.

but you’ve always naturally given into him, and that habit stays strong even after all these years. you think he knows that too.

it’s with upmost hesitance that you turn around.

you’re not sure what to do.

he’s a sight for sore eyes. healing, beautifully transparent. a dear smile, inviting you closer. or more like a predator awaiting it’s prey. your body is giving you every negative cue, yet your legs stay in place, submissive to his presence that’s been so horrendously missed.

he a little looks older. or maybe that’s just the unfamiliar sight of all his hair down.

“hi.”

a part of you thinks that if you ignore him for long enough, he might disappear. leave you alone, as he’s chosen to do before. he’s lost the right to be welcomed.

fury is really the only emotion you could accurately pinpoint. you hate how soft he speaks. you hate it more than anything.

if you could stomach it, you’d ask him to close his eyes and turn the other direction. you’ve always been weak when he looks at you so intently, as if studying you to the finest detail. but you refuse to be the one to look away first - you selfishly crave his attention more than you value your own self-respect.

and as suguru looks at you, he thinks you’ve made it impossibly more difficult to do anything but beg for undeserving forgiveness. he’s staring at reflective streams, seeing as they slowly trail down your face. it must feel nice to be falling tears, symbolic of raindrops returning to the ocean. he’d like to sit in front of the ocean again. with you, being careless teenagers just for a little longer. but the ocean brings back bitter memories and the thoughts of a certain brunette child, so he refrains from thinking further.

“… don’t cry.”

it’s not a command of any sort, but instead a quiet plea. you’re too pretty for tears. too pretty for pain, too pretty for this unfair life he’s plagued you with.

he watches your eyes visibly widen, and your hand raises quickly, using your sleeve to wipe remnants of your intense emotions. it stains your skin a bit red from how roughly you move, lashes dismally coated with the aftermath.

“i’m not—“ and you huff, your throat feeling tight. your head bows by instinct, and you shake it firmly. you press your palms to your eyes for a few seconds, pushing harshly, as if the pressure could ease some of the shock, or ground you in any way. “i’m not fucking crying.”

cautiously, suguru nods. he’ll play into you, listen to everything you say even if it’s not entirely truthful. anything to make his appearance less daunting and harmful. he waits for you to speak, knowing the sound of his voice may not be as pleasant as he had hoped. he’s not sure what he was expecting.

battered already, in so much internal sorrow you might collapse, you breathe as deeply as you are able to. it shakes, and you opt to biting your lip instead.

harrowing disbelief is tainting your skin and bones, and it feels hopeless to even try understanding why he’s here. waltzing right back into your life, bewitchingly present. words linger, staying on the tip of your tongue as you internally battle yourself to release them. release you.

the air smells like rain. and you think — all this anger, it was once was love.

“i hate you.”

and there’s a frown on your lips, trembling as you try to muster up all of the loathe, resentment, and frustration into those three words.

it fails. because the admission is not of truth — if anything, it’s guilt. for the sole reason that you know your feelings stand the exact opposite.

you hate suguru for leaving you. not him as a person; him as a thought. a thought that consistently runs rampant through your mind, adding fuel to a prevalent fire that refuses to be extinguished. and you imagine that he likes that he still has that effect on you, because the hauntingly serene smile he holds doesn’t even falter, not for a second.

you’re forced to stare at him with that expression, and it feels wickedly taunting. not as comforting as it had before.

“that’s alright.”

it’s all he puts out into the air, and that gentle tone he holds kinda makes you want to hit him. he’s not like satoru — you’re sure he’d let you. but suguru can sense your agonizing heartbreak. he’d sense everything about you with his eyes closed. and he feels guilty for making you reopen old wounds, but he’s unaware that they’ve never been given a chance to properly heal.

geto suguru sees a little bit of you in everything lovely. the sun shining in the morning, the smiles on two pretty little girl’s faces, the moon casting a dim halo over the world at night.

you’ve only become a greater treasure. one to be cherished, to be adored. he’s missed you in his sight more than anything. you’re still a angel on earth, incredulously beautiful. even with tears, even with that despaired look on your face. he’s fighting every urge in his body to not step closer and mend your broken self.

he’d like to run his fingers over your soul and pour his love into each crack he finds.

“give me a few minutes. that’s all i need.”

he’d prefer an eternity. but he thinks that he’s asked for something reasonable.

it’s expected when you scoff, glaring daggers with blurry vision. but it doesn’t make it any less painful.

suguru can take it. he deserves it.

“please.”

the distaste on your face refuses to falter.

you crave to love without it having consequences.

since when had caring become so much of a burden? it’s evil, honestly. maybe stone-cold was the way to go. nanami might be on to something.

“stop this, suguru.” you whisper, hand sliding down your face in frustration as you let out a bitter sigh that lacks any amusement. “leave me alone.”

he savors the way his name sounds on your tongue, the drawn-our syllables holding the same familiar care of nearly a decade ago. it feels longer, too much time spent away from you. it lightens his aura, makes his senses heightened in almost a feral way. you speak of him like fate.

old habits refuse to die, and he stays where he is, the same face of persuasion used as he outwardly refuses your answer.

“kill me, then.” he shrugs, and he thinks he might actually die from the way your frown falters into shock once again. his smile twitches, nearly threatening to downcast.

it should be what you do.

suguru was a dead man. that fact hadn’t slipped your mind. you remember when satoru saw him, in the flesh, after the sentence. he couldn’t bring himself to kill him then, and you could briefly recall the look on his face when you softly told him you could eventually do it if he wasn’t able to. that solemn twinge, knowing something you wouldn’t admit out loud.

because satoru knew, better than anyone around, that if you went through with it, it would break you past the point of repair.

suguru, seemingly satisfied with your stillness, steps a bit closer.

it kinda feels like doom. you think the world may stop for a moment, and that all the bad things in life will come and finish you off. that death will take your hand, guiding you, kinder than anything that’s ever really touched it. because what it’s held before has cursed it.

when his hands reach up, you expect a knife in the throat — any consequence for the stupidity of your compliance. but the blades are soft, and they raise to hold your face. gently, as if earning the trust of a stray kitten. because they’re not blades, they’re his hands. he feels you shaking against them. and it’s odd that all tranquility really needs is a certain sight; reassurance in the form of a graceful being who has been absent for too long. you don’t move. you’re unable to. instead, you stare, taking in a lost future. hair you used to brush yourself, eyes that would watch you with such visible adoration. they still do, and that realization alone has your head hurting.

you feel his thumb wipe below your eye, and it feels cold over your heated skin. suguru sighs, his eyebrows furrowing ever-so-slightly.

“you’re very beautiful.”

it’s spoken almost hopelessly, as if the admission physically hurts for him to say. in a way, it does. he’s let go of one of the last devotions to you that he’s kept bottled inside of him, because he knows this might be the last time he sees you. he has to let everything go. you need to know what he thinks of you, how important you are. how he’s submitted his soul to the disaster of loving you since you were teenagers.

by the way his eyes narrow, and his pupils grow just a tiny bit bigger, your eyes widen, and you’re pushing him away instantly.

you know what comes next. you’re able to predict it before it’s able to horrifically conjure itself out loud.

“no, suguru.”

he follows after you, a firm yet gentle hold on your forearms stopping you from completely leaving. you’re already shaking your head, biting your lip as it threatens to quiver. he’s trapping you, and he knows he’s already won.

“let me.” he coos, rubbing the skin of your trembling limbs. and you try to convince yourself that you shouldn’t sympathize, or fall for that sweet, missed voice of his. how he’s just a stranger you unfortunately know everything about. to ignore gentle aura you’ve missed so much that you felt as though you’ve never been able to get a grip on the pain in your chest. “let me say it.”

you’re not built for this, not capable enough to take another harrowing blow.

“leave — fucking, leave.” you seethe, frantically attempting to pull your arms back, though his hold has gotten stronger, and the fight that you have left in you is quickly diminishing by the second. there’s a moment — the tiniest sliver of time — where you stumble, and you’re being pushed closer to him before you can blink.

“you don’t want me to.” suguru shakes his head, eyeing you carefully as you stop your movements. it’s declarative.

you’d like to slap him. knock some common sense into his head because, obviously. you never wanted him to. not when you were sixteen, not now, not ever.

it’s just defense. because you cruelly know that letting him in will just make everything worse. walls were needed for protection, even if the doors are halfway open.

his hands find themselves cradling your face once more, and he’s pulling you, a small gap being the only distance left between a terrible decision. you’re subconsciously following, body keen on obeying his every move. his gaze feels a little intrusive, looking so intently you have the urge to turn your head and close your eyes. your breath is shaky, and you feel a little light-headed.

you wonder if anyone else in the world has ever loved someone this terribly.

hastily, your hands place themselves on his chest with an attempt to push him away, but they stay pliant. you look at him, incredulously.

“what is wrong with you?”

it’s clear when his expression darkens a little, and he dejectedly looks to the side. you catch his eyes widening a bit, the harshness of your tone foreign, because you’ve only ever spoken to him with such tender care. you’re spewing out words with cracks in your voice, nearly whispering because you’re afraid that if you speak any louder, it’ll truly start a storm.

“you… you kill people, leave me — leave everyone — and then…” your eyes close, and you feel the liquid trailing down your cheeks again before you’re able to stop it. you can’t finish your sentence, too busy holding your breath to calm a threatening sob.

it feels like you’re sixteen again, and everything is crumbling.

his arms move slowly as they wrap themselves around you, and you feel even more inclined to cry when he presses your head against his chest. like he’s done dozens of times before. he sucks, the world sucks. this comfort is long overdue, and you still can’t find it in yourself to complain, simply succumbing to the pressure of his presence. you’d like to hug your younger self. because she needed this, even if it can’t really count as closure. even if you currently felt your knees buckling from beneath you.

“i wish i could take away the pain, pretty girl.”

suguru won’t give you false apologies. he only feels guilt for causing you harm. he dislikes how pain looks on your face, and he wants to tell you that he’s unable to sleep at night without you, that every day is a challenge. that truthfully, the ache is mutual. but he has something to accomplish, and you stand on opposing sides.

the two of you are stubborn people.

“take it,” you tremble, and your arms are already around him, despite the screams in your mind. he feels safe. he feels like everything and more. “please, please, take it.”

the pleading in your voice makes suguru feel horribly ill, and he tightens his grip on you, not really knowing what else to do.

it’s worse when you’re the perpetrator. the criminal, the evil. he wonders what your life might have looked like without him in it — how happy you could have been. should’ve been.

but there’s been bad things — events that he’s sure might had ended horrifically differently without his existence.

he wonders how your scar looks, now.

suguru’s fingers are firm as they reach below your chin, and he forces your eyes to meet once more. they’re red and glossy, but still undeniably captivating. he’d like to look at them forever.

“i would, if it were that easy. i promise you.”

you believe him. it could be from the genuine strain in his voice, or your muddled brain that’s clawing to escape your own head. what good is a healthy mind?

he’s saying your name again, and it’s quieter this time. more intimate. you don’t cower, you stay, even huddling the tiniest bit closer. you’ve given up on composure, you’ll let him selfishly have you. besides, it feels nice when he’s treating you so delicately. hands ghosting over your cheeks, eyes that admire your desperate, sad ones. you don’t stop him this time, numbly prepared for the aftermath.

he pauses, trailing his thumb over your jaw, and swallowing thickly. he’s never quite looked normal. always too perfect in comparison to everything else. he smiles, and you see a hint of something that you can’t really classify as full joy.

“i love you.”

the world doesn’t end.

you’re still looking at him, thinking that it will for a moment. instead, you see bashful pink.

‘i love you’ is such a tricky sentence. it’s powerful, meaningful, and could also be a lie. the power of speech is that there really are no limits, and you suppose that’s what makes bad people. sometimes.

he toys with the collar of your shirt, briefly, and lets out a breath of amusement through his nose. suguru feels lighter. and simultaneously horrible. he tilts his head, barely, his voice quiet.

“will you let me kiss you? even if you hate me?”

there’s a little teasing in that sentence, and he nudges his nose across the side of your face affectionately. you’re unaware of how hard his heart beats against his chest as soon as he asks.

you’re sixteen once more, and you’re silently nodding before you’re able to think further.

you’re imagining fairytales you can’t believe in.

it’s hard to determine how long you’ve thought about it. his lips on yours. your hands are in his hair and on his face nearly immediately. you’d trade a lot of things to be this close for longer — you wish to be combined. and he’s soft. he’s so soft you dread taking your hands off of him. if heaven was a place on earth, it’d be this.

pitiful.

he tastes sweet, like a forgotten dream. butterflies suffocate your insides as you stand, and your knees feel a little weaker. suguru is a bit impatient with his movements, hands trailing down your sides to squeeze and caress. his touch feels hot and is hastily done, but gentle nonetheless. you feel his lips curl up against yours, and your stomach flips.

you rather not pull away. pulling away brings back reality, and fantasy is really all you want. if you kiss him a bit harder, and close your eyes a little longer, you’re able to stay.

he pulls back first.

you’re breathing heavy, eyes wide as they bore into his. he might be the most precious thing in your life, and you’re not sure if you’re able to let him go. you’re afraid that you’ll love him forever, and that you’ll never be in the same place again. this feels cruelly temporary, and you know it is. by the way his expression settles, and the way he repeats those three words so quietly, it’s meant for only you to hear. a fact.

“i love you.”

you swallow thickly, in a haze that’s caused just by his very being. a drug-like addiction, and you feel so content it’s like you’re home.

suguru knows you won’t say it back. and in all honesty, he prefers it that way. it’s what’s best. what matters most is that he knows you mean to. he’s able to read that lovestruck wonder on your face so easily it makes him warm. it was both a relief and horror to be known so perfectly. you, who still wears your heart on your sleeve. he’s forever grateful that you’ve always been so giving, so selfless when it comes to him. he feels as though he abuses your sweet compassion.

you tug on his sleeve.

“we can work something out.” you whisper against him, and suguru knows he’s gone too far. he’s tensing, and his eyes are anxious, a small shake of his head contrasting your nods. “i’m yours. i’m yours before anything else.”

heart, mind, body, soul. you’re bonded for life, and you’ve known that since you were young.

“oh, no, baby.” suguru hurriedly answers, and the desperation in your voice, the way you clutch on to him a little tighter, has his head reeling. he’s panicking. “you’re better where you are, sweet girl.”

you know his mind is made up, that it’s fruitless to try, but you’re so blinded by desires that you don’t even care that you’re begging him. he’s mean, doing this to you. there is no ultimatum or other decision - this is it. you’re just destined to be separate, and that hurts to realize, so you’re glad he’s cushioning the blow. just enough for you to keep standing.

suguru is complicated. he hates that he is, he hates what his life has brought him (the only exception being the beauty of the people in his past; you included), but he’s certain that you’re safer as it is. golden and pure. with satoru, with shoko. and you’re strong. you’re so strong he can’t put it into words.

maybe he had some reasonable motives — riko’s death, yours and satoru’s near deaths, haibara’s death — but they’ve shaped him. shaped you, more, as it seems. you continue your life, even after it’s been tainted red, and blackened with misery. satoru, the same. you can take a bit more. you’ve gone through the worst of it. at least — it’s what he selfishly tells himself.

it was stupid to come see you. kiss you, at that. but he can’t bring himself to regret even slightly. if he’s considered evil, barbaric, he’ll gladly take the titles if it meant spending more moments with you. it’s cruel, not malicious.

you’re still his person. but he can’t have you fully — at least, not in this lifetime.

suguru isn’t really sure he could pass on the torch so easily. to give you up completely — the most ultimate sacrifice. where there would be a possibility of his replacement, and the loss of his heart. he can’t trust anyone with loving you; no one can really love you like he does. he’ll take pride in that.

“you’re going to live a long, happy life.” suguru quietly assures, nudging his nose against yours. your eyes are tightly shut, overall avoidant. this might be a nightmare, if you believe hard enough. “find someone who loves you, and you easily will, do everything-“

“i don’t want anyone else.” you interrupt, eyes narrowing as they open, like the idea is something of the unthinkable. “you’d be stupid to think i do.”

this might be worse than unrequited love, you think. every feeling is mutual, besides the belief that you should be together. he’s the bane of your existence. and that kills.

suguru is reasonable. you understand his refusals, why the two of you can’t be — how immaturely you’re thinking about this. you can’t leave your life behind for him, it’d be asking for your own death sentence and the loss of everything left that’s good in your life.

you can’t create a cycle, as much as it pains for you to come to terms with.

“i can’t have you, pretty girl.” suguru sighs, trying to ignore the way his voice wavers the tiniest bit. he’s growing desperate in persuasion, but even he falls flat against the situation. “i want to, so bad, but it’s not right. we’re not right.”

your chest feels tight as you stare up at him.

you wonder, truly, if he’s aware of all the turmoil he’s caused; that he’s let happen, because he never even came back to offer a mere shoulder for support. he simply left you in the dust.

it hurts to hear, especially coming from lips that had been pressed so wonderfully against yours. you still can’t bring yourself to hate him.

you used to fear irrational ideas. that if you let someone in, take care of you, you wouldn’t really be yourself anymore. independency never worked well, and you’ve strung on a bit too hard to a knight in shining armour. a being like icarus, who’s flown too close to the sun. you were right, it seems.

you’ve lost, and it kills to realize.

bitterly, you remember hearing some time ago that ‘it gets easier.’ or better. it’s been repeated to you, multiple times. the reality is, you’re not too sure. what gets easier is maybe the coping. but even that is still evil and painful.

hopeless, you stand, and your voice feels hoarse.

“… suguru?”

how can you hate something so natural? when it feels as though those syllables are meant to be spoken in repetition. his name means excellence; to surpass all.

suguru looks at you, eyes previously occupied with gazing upwards to avoid an act of human emotion. they mirror yours, glossy and faintly red. no visible tears. he has the self-control you lack.

but you can be a little selfish.

“can you…” you take a deep breath, and lean a little forward, resting your head in the crook of his neck to escape a reaction. if he feels the liquid of your tears, he doesn’t comment on them. he’s awfully warm. you’d like to lay in bed with him under a summer sun again. you’re trying to force every part of him into your memory while he’s pressed to closely against you. how his hair tickles your neck, the security of his loving arms keeping you from physical harm, how pretty he looks up close.

it’s not greedy to ask for a final request, you think.

“can you stay with me, then? for a few more minutes?”

an innocent question, while he’s been nothing but cruel. despite everything, you’re still you.

it reminds him of his youth. when you and satoru would get into playful arguments, gaining a few steps on him, only for you to turn back and check that he was still there. or when you would return from missions, him being the first person you looked for every time, just to let him know you came back safely.

sometimes, you’d come back a bit battered up, and instead of confiding in shoko for help like any other person would, you trusted him with treating the wounds. all natural, because that meant you got to spend more time together. human bodies are fragile things. he realized the true extent of that after toji. you really can’t take anything for granted.

so it’s really no wonder why he fell in love with you. why he came to fully accept it. and his belief stands strong — anyone would. angels are irresistible, he finds. he would sometimes see wings.

suguru’s glad you can’t see his face. because maybe then, you’d catch the sight of a reflective shimmer trailing down his cheek.

the embodiment of your dreams, hopes, and desires holds you so gently, a little tighter now. he nods against you, but it feels disconnected, because he’s faded into darkness that has already consumed him. too far gone.

time is nothing for now.

and you wonder if it actually does get better, or if everyone is just lying to you.

•••

september, 2018.

“sensei?”

blinking slowly, you immediately straighten at the sight of three towering figures above your relaxed position.

there’s a panic that sets in at the recognition of how watery your eyes feel, and your head turns in an instant to cough awkwardly, avoiding their stares.

it’s around noon, judging by how pleasantly the sun shines through the window, and how awake your students look. yuji liked to sleep in sometimes.

“did i zone out for a bit?” you mindlessly chuckle, the words feeling a little strange on your tongue. you might have a migraine from how much your head is hurting. “i didn’t get too much sleep last night, sorry guys.”

your smile radiates a reassuring warmth, and the concern on their faces leaves by the time you look back at them. if jujustu didn’t work, maybe you could take up acting.

“we finished the warmups you instructed!” nobara beams, short hair flowing after her as she proudly stands. she glances at yuji, her eyes narrowing. “well, me and fushiguro did.”

yuji shoves her.

nobara has always reminded you of rough recovery rooms and gentle curing hands. it makes you a bit nauseous, the nostalgia of it all.

the sight of the whole trio sometimes felt like daggers digging into your heart, stabbing greedy wounds into open gashes before they have a chance to heal.

brighter days for them, a dull ache for you.

“you weren’t awake yet-“

“i told you to wake me up!”

“you did not!”

yuji and nobara bicker for a second, and you feel a little overwhelmed.

because since these two have set foot on campus, they had seemed oddly familiar. unbeknownst to them, but relentlessly distressing for you. you’re silent as you observe, the uncomfortable pit in your stomach staying clear as day. stubborn, because that’s only natural for you.

more than a decade has passed — nearly three years since your last encounter, almost a year after his death, and yet here you are. the hurt just as strong, because you’ve realized that the pain will never fully go away, and you suppose you’ll have to adapt to living with it forever.

but you’re grateful. though you couldn’t go back to the way things were, you have a chance at stopping the cycle. after all, you know little about what the future has in store for them.

you hope it’s kind. you want those grins to stay permanently, for their youth and innocence to linger for as long as possible. because you never had that luxury. the end of your purity was far too quick, adult emotions flooding your senses. you’d do anything to keep them from feeling like you.

plus, you’re allowed to grieve over the child you could’ve been.

“alright, alright,” you blink, interrupting them before their voices can get any louder. they immediately quiet down, turning to you expectantly. it freaks you out a little.

you were still relatively new to whole teaching thing, not used to being followed so attentively. it felt weird to give orders — to have them be listened to, really. satoru was more of a natural, his cheekiness benefitting him perfectly. even if the students found him undeniably strange.

“give me ten minutes and i’ll meet you outside.” you wave a hand, pointing to yuji. “and sorry kiddo, you’re doing some laps for getting up late.”

you fight a smile as you witness a pout form on his lips, nobara’s laugh drowning out his whining. you’d probably only make him run one, but it was always amusing to lie to his face. you adored yuji — he was a bundle of joy graciously given to the universe. it’s pure luck that he ended up with you.

you watch as nobara drags him out, your head resting on your palm, softly chuckling. they complimented each other well. like siblings, you think.

your head turns, finally facing eyes that hadn’t strayed away from you since you woke up from your daydream. it's like a sixth sense now. you know when he's looking at you, when he seems genuinely bothered. it took time to know him. he’s a hard shell to crack.

“you don’t get special privileges, megs.” you snort, motioning your head towards the door. “go join them, i just need some time to wake up.”

megumi looks unimpressed (and honestly, when does he not?), sighing softly before coming closer. the cushion beside you sinks as he sits, and you raise a brow questionably. his voice is blunt, quiet as it fills the room.

“you think too much.”

it surprises you a little, but you’ve come to learn that megumi is rarely predictable, and to always expect the unexpected.

“do i?” you muse, your smile visibly weakening as you softly laugh.

he was too aware of everything, perception like no other. he reminded of you of suguru sometimes, behavior so nonchalant in comparison to the rest of the world. they were both silent observers.

megumi nods, and you realize he’s rather close, only a few inches away from grazing your skin. touch was something megumi struggled with growing up, so you never pushed it on him; you hated making him uncomfortable, while satoru could care less. the giant didn’t understand boundaries. but sometimes, movie nights in his adolescence led to him latching on to you in his sleep. he had his moments.

it makes the action of his hand raising, pressing your head into his shoulder, much more meaningful.

“don’t think.”

megumi’s never been one for melodramatic situations. growing up, he’d used to complain when tsumiki would force him to watch disney movies with her, getting visibly annoyed when he’d spot her tears during more heartfelt scenes. you never brought up the fact that he’d let her rest her head on his shoulder (you secretly wonder if that’s why he’s doing that now), or would rub her back. megumi’s not kind, per say, but he knows how to secretly love (in his own, strange way. similar to satoru), and you think that’s more important than anything.

“that’d be cool.” you sigh, closing your eyes. your eyelids feel heavy on your face, and you try not to get too comfortable, remembering that you’d have to get up in a few minutes. “wish it were that simple.”

megumi hums, staring straight ahead.

your past is a secret to him, tightly kept in the confinements of your heart. and that's really the only hint he's ever needed to know that it still affects you. satoru, the same. he knew little about your lives before he came into the picture, only hearing bits and pieces when you and satoru would get a bit sleep-drunk and giggle about old memories. he's always tried his best to listen, soaking in any details he can. people are generally more honest and open when physically tired. it's why they confess things during late night conversations, and why the flow of words comes out more natural.

you were different from the idiot that had originally taken him in. megumi can scream from every rooftop that he hated gojo satoru (despite it being secretly untrue), but you? the mediator, who he looked up to more than anything? impossible, it’d be criminal.

maybe you disliked seeming hopeless in front of him, but he didn't mind that vulnerability. he wished you'd trust him with it more — that you knew he would never dream of judging you. he's not too well with words, or communicating, really, so he's also not too sure how to tell you. a double-edged sword.

"you're okay, though — right?"

his eyes glance downwards towards you, dark blue highlighting the inklings of concern. it's not awkward when he asks.

he has a heart, despite satoru's beliefs.

heart warmed, you grin, raising your head to look at him with crinkled narrowed eyes.

you find it funny how the world works. going in some strange, bittersweet chain of events because here you were, caring for the life of a dead man’s son while he had permanently tainted yours. and you're happy. not completely, but sun shines through. the blinds are halfway open.

something that had once seemed so dark has been becoming technicolor.

"yeah." you nod, sincerely, and pat his cheek gently, stifling a laugh when his face scrunches in silent disapproval. "thank you for asking. really."

his face gently pulls away from your touch, and you can tell he's slightly flustered, just a tad embarrassed at your small affection. you're grateful for him, unbelievably thankful for the bits of effort he's always put into caring about you (and tsumiki. and maybe the tiniest bit for satoru. tiny.). a true blessing.

gingerly, he stands up, hands in his pockets as he glances at you again, double-checking. you smile.

he only continues to walk towards the door when you give him a nod in reassurance.

you're left staring at your hands when he leaves, a soft sigh escaping your lips. some days are harder than others. it's the toss of a coin, no chances pre-determined. you simply wake up to the surprise every time.

admittedly, you miss the version of you that doesn’t really exist anymore. naive, but more open. fearless and valiant, only ever seeking improvement. you feel bitter that you took that time of your life for granted.

you’ve found that everything’s felt easier, though. something in the air is different.

“hey, did you leave the kids outside? it's hot out there and they're complaining like crazy-“

you hear footsteps come to a halt, and your head tilts up, finding satoru in it's vision. he stands in place by the door, eyes wide as he stares.

"hey," you nonchalantly wave, stretching to alleviate the soreness in your muscles. "i'll be out in a second."

you attempt to get up from your seat, but satoru ushers towards you, stopping you from successfully moving.

"woah, woah, woah — what’s got you so blue?” he asks, scanning over you briefly. there's a light-hearted smile on his face, and if you didn't know him well enough, you might have mistaken it for amusement. but it's down-casted slightly, and he's looking at you a little too intently.

you snort, rolling your eyes playfully, “i’m not blue.”

satoru blinks, unappreciative of the response that he can only justify was from being around him too often.

“fine — what’s wrong with you?” he corrects himself bluntly, crossing his arms. your eyes follow him as he takes a seat beside you, and you internally sigh, thinking about how you’ve left your three students to perish under the sun.

you wave a hand dismissively, "nothing.”

“aw, c’mon,” satoru drawls, and you have half a mind to complain when he sprawls himself over your lap, his eyewear pushed upwards and off his face as he looks up at you. the blue twinkles, even under the fluorescent lighting. “you’ve never been a good liar.”

“okay, now that’s a lie. a bad one.” you scoff, poking his nose. “i’m a talented actress. oscar worthy.”

he playfully winces, narrowing his eyes at you. “no one’s ever been honest with you before, huh?”

“who needs opinions?” you roll your eyes, nudging his head softly. “it’s all about self-love now.”

“yeah, yeah,” satoru whistles, peering up from one eye, the other closed as he visibly relaxes against you. “see how far that takes you.”

you gasp dramatically, “mean.”

the corner of his lips quirks up, and his familiar smirk returns.

banter was natural with satoru. it was hard to take anything seriously with him around.

he brings joy in mundaneness.

“you shouldn’t trust megumi, y’know.”

confused, you pause, looking at him questionably.

“why?” you ask, and you’re internally conflicted as you attempt to recall every recent memory in your head that’s a classified secret. or, something you’ve generally told megumi as of late. nothing comes to mind.

“dunno. he told me something was wrong with you when i walked past him right now.”

your eyes widen, and you groan, head falling back against the couch’s soft exterior.

traitor.

“so,” satoru continues, and his voice is softer, a little more serious. “really — what’s wrong?”

it’s always been pointless to beat around the bush with satoru. he’s impatient, immature, and wonderful. a bad mix that makes you wonder how it’s even possible that he’s generally likable.

“nothing.” you emphasize, rubbing your head in slight annoyance. “he’s making it up.”

you rather not have this conversation. not while the air is half-hearted, and everything has been steady. but he’s right there. and it might not hurt as much as you think it will.

satoru gawks, mouth open, before poking you harshly. “now you’re calling our son a liar? low blow.”

you huff, “he went lower by betraying me.”

a beat of silence.

“so he was right?” satoru blinks, and he’s sitting up hesitantly, awaiting your voice, or a movement. anything to confirm.

“will you leave me alone if i say no?”

“no? you just admitted he wasn’t lying.”

“oh. yeah.”

you’re smiling lightly, faintly awful because you’re not too sure how wise you’re being. maybe this was only the mature option.

“um… i was just thinking. about him.”

you hadn’t really spoken much about last december. there was no tension or anything — it was just a touchy subject for the both of you.

satoru had more right to be bothered.

you expect his expression to drop — for it to grow uncomfortably quiet, leaving you to voice a regretful apology. you’ve rarely seen satoru break. his joyous front is him in natural form. sorrow doesn’t look right on his face.

he’s only been at his worse around you. and that’s a fact that binds you for life, as dismissive as you two seem to act about it.

angels carry weights off your shoulders, and satoru smiles a little. albeit, visibly bittersweet, but a smile.

“we do that a lot, don’t we?”

he’s stupid, annoying, and infuriating when he looks at you like that. as if you two are similar, and he knows how to ice the bruises on your back.

(he does.)

geto suguru is an enigma. is, because even in death, he’s found a way to stay alive. he lives in memories; in thoughts that keep both of you awake at night.

“i guess i just …” you trail off, staring at the floor. you’d be okay with living the rest of your life by satoru’s side. he’s peace, and he knows you tenderly.

you exhale, a small bitter chuckle leaving your lips.

“i don’t know what to do with all the love i have for him.” you admit, arms laying flat as you shrug with a despaired smile that makes satoru feel a little hollow. your hands flow freely, motioning for a few moments before resting back in your lap. “i don’t know where to put it.”

you haven’t known in years. it’s bundled up, suffocating your insides and exhausting your soul. he’s too well tangled with it.

a lot was left unsaid.

answers you crave, questions that will forever follow.

“i’ll take it.”

satoru grins, and you have to bite back a smile from how infectious his expression is. it radiates sunshine.

you feel his warm hands cup over yours, and he gently rubs across your knuckles with his thumbs, soothing that isolating cold. “you can give it to all of us, actually. but more for me.”

he’s silly, and he’s everything and more.

you wonder if you would’ve made it through without him. he’s impacted your life so heavily, you can’t imagine a world void of his presence.

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you mumble, smile ever-so-visible as you playfully nudge him. satoru nods feverishly.

“i’d adore it.” he’s beaming like the cheshire cat, and your expression falls flat as you await whatever idiotic words would flow out of his mouth next. he brings a finger to his chin and hums.

“you know what, though? maybe give some extra to megumi. but i’m not really sure any love could save that kid. not even a mother’s. he's creepy, i'm telling you-“

“satoru.”

he innocently smiles, eyes closed. “just a suggestion.”

you playfully roll your eyes.

it’s all romanticism until it truly hurts. love seems so small, so trivial, when you’re not being affected.

satoru hides his grief better than you ever could. he copes uniquely, and you suppose his way may even help you a little.

they should invent a healing that is linear, you think. so you can’t fall behind, and you can be all-smiles too.

but you’re close enough.

just the right amount, actually.

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disneyprincemuke · 1 month

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forever wouldn't wait for us * fem!driver

logan's moving out

pairings: 4lyfers x fem!driver

notes: hi please give this attention im not even kidding how difficult it was to write this like i'm actually kinda sad

(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)

liam scowls, throwing his head back. he points his hand towards logan, sat on the couch, fiddling with a rubix cube he’d found underneath the couch. “you’re not even helping!”

“i didn’t know kidnapper took my rubix cube,” logan mutters.

the girl passes him, walking between the couch and the coffee table, snatching away the rubix cube from his hands. “you don’t even know how to play with a rubix cube,” she mutters, “and this is mine.”

logan huffs, rolling his eyes and throws his arms into the air. “you never let me have anything.”

she furrows her eyebrows. “you moved into my furnished apartment at the start of last year.”

“there’s gotta be something in the living room that’s mine,” logan frowns, looking around for something to take with him.

“what time are we drinking?” oscar throws his head back, looking over from the dining table. on the table is a set of uno cards messily strewn in different directions. on his right is lily and to his left is ylona with a small grin. “you guys are taking too long.”

“we wouldn’t be taking so long if everyone helped like they promised,” she huffs underneath her breath with a small eye roll. “anyway, logan’s still trying out being a thief right in front of my eyes.”

“babe,” ylona snorts, “don’t steal from rocky.”

mick walks out of logan’s room, a box of neatly folded clothes inside. he drops it right by the kitchen where the rest of logan’s boxes rest, stacked above one another. “logan loves stealing from rocky.”

“i do not!” logan defends himself. “wait, whatever. i’m just saying — there has to be something that’s mine in the living room. there’s no way that i was leeching off rocky the entire year and a half we stayed together.”

“you probably have more things in her parents’ home rather than here,” oscar points out, playing a card on the table. “hurry it up. i’m hungry and thirsty.”

she hadn’t expected logan to move out so soon. while she knew that living with logan for the rest of her life isn’t a viable arrangement, she hadn’t expected him to decide to pack up and live with his girlfriend while being together for less than a year.

he had told her about a month ago, at the start of september that he’d be moving in with ylona. not too far away, just an apartment down the road. but it still feels like a part’s of her being torn from her — the same way she felt when oscar had moved out of her parents’ when he landed a reserve driver spot with alpine.

she didn’t expect the 3 of them to live together for the rest of time, but it’s just weird to spend growing up every single day with them for years to end up barely talking sometimes outside of race weekends.

“rocky, what do you think?”

she maintains her blank stare on kidnapper, sleeping under the coffee table with a hum. “think of what?”

“let’s head out for dinner as a quick pick-me-up,” mick grins slightly, “and then we drop by the store to get drinks then we continue packing. when we’re done with that, we drink! how’s that sound?”

she lifts her head with a small grin. “yeah, absolutely.”

the uneasy feeling in her chest never leaves the entire evening. from the moment they’d all spilled out of the apartment to grab dinner, asking each other where they should eat to the moment they were stumbling back in to pack what’s left of logan’s clothes.

she sits in the living room now in silence, playing with kidnapper with one of the toys she’d gotten him in a dim corner. everyone else is in logan’s room, helping fold and pack what mick hadn’t gotten in boxes earlier.

“hey, are you okay? you’ve been here since we came home from dinner.” she glances over her shoulder, a small grin spreading her lips at the man now taking a seat next to her on the ground by the cat tree. “i’m surprised you haven’t started crying yet. remember when i moved out of your parents’?”

she throws her head back with a soft groan and an eye roll. “that seems like forever ago.”

“it was,” oscar laughs, leaning back against the wall as kidnapper curiously climbs on his lap. “how do you feel now that you’ll be living alone?”

“not sure,” she shrugs, dropping her head with a soft chuckle. “i like living with logan, you know? everyday was a party.”

“living by yourself can still be party, you know,” he points out and rests his head on the wall behind him. “you knew we weren’t going to be around forever.”

she presses her lips together as she tries to navigate the lines in her head and pinpoint why she’s always so upset when either of them move out. perhaps she feels left behind once more?

sure, that lingering feeling of jealousy arose occasionally when they were younger, always progressing with their racing careers without her at times. but there’s no reason to feel this way at 21 when they’re all at the same stages of life.

“i mean… before logan asked if he could move in with me, i was prepared to be live by myself. but you know,” she trails off as she lifts her head with trembling lips. “that was a year and a half ago.”

“aw, mate,” oscar coos, reaching over to rest a comforting hand on her knee. “i know he sprung this on you a little too soon. but you’ll be fine, you know?”

“i know,” she grins, craning her neck back to sigh at oscar. “i’m going to let him take stubby with him. i know the bond they’ve formed, you know? i’m going to miss that dog.”

“you know you don’t have to. you adopted stubby.”

“just seems cruel to keep stubby when he very clearly prefers logan over me.” she takes a deep breath and exhales shakily. “we should help them out so we can drink with them, right?”

oscar glances down at the black cat that’s settled in his lap. “i can’t get up — kidnapper’s on my lap. it’s your turn now.”

she rolls her eyes but still slowly gets up from her spot. “i will be back for my cat, oscar piastri.”

“i know it was sudden when i told you i was planning to move out,” logan mutters, lifting his head to look at the girl in the single seater couch across the room. “i’m sorry.”

the girl looks up from her phone, her screen illuminating her face with a small grin and flushed cheeks from the drinks they’d consumed. the empty glass bottles riddle the floor of their — no, her — living room. “we can’t be roommates forever. it’s okay.”

around them are liam and mick, passed out in their individual spots with pillows and blankets strewn over their bodies. oscar and lily are coddled up in her bed and logan’s got ylona’s head in his lap as she lies on the couch with stubby in her arms.

“i’m sorry i didn’t even ask you what you thought about it at first,” he admits. “you let me move into your apartment then i just spring my decision to move out 3 weeks ahead of time. i’m sorry, rocky.”

“it’s okay, really. like–”

“dude.” the firmness in her voice makes her drop her phone into her stomach. she sits upright with a small grin on her face and a heavy sigh. “i’m sorry. 2024 hasn’t been great for our friendship.”

she laughs softly, dropping her back against her seat. “are you talking about the crash? that was months ago, mate. i totally overreacted. so much for ‘whatever happens on the track, stays on the track’. i’m sorry.”

but meeting his eyes across the room, her smile fades when she notices that he’s not smiling or giggling along with her. “you know what i’m apologising for.”

tears flood her eyes and she forces herself to look away to wipe them away. “mate. it’s been 9 months.”

“stop brushing it off,” logan whispers, shaking his head. “i’m sorry, okay? you’re still my best friend — you know that, right? nothing’s changing. i’m just 2 blocks down the road; call me if you need me.”

she smiles, hanging her head as she turns to look at him. “likewise. take stubby with you, by the way. he seems to be very fond of you and ylona, anyway.”

“what? no, that’s crazy. stubby is your dog.”

she shakes her head and holds a hand up to stop him from talking. and she knows that he knows what that means — there’s nothing he can say to change her mind. “take him. he’ll be happier with you guys.”

logan’s stare lingers on her, smiling back before she picks up her phone from her stomach. “you should bring ylona to your bed. the couch is uncomfortable, mate.”

logan grins. “okay. do you want to share the bed with her? i know oscar and lily’s fallen asleep in yours. i can sleep out here if you want.”

she shakes her head, following his gaze as he carefully manoeuvres ylona to guide her back to his room. “i’ll be okay. you don’t have to look out for me so much anymore, mate. i’m a big girl.”

“everything’s in the car,” oscar calls out from down the hall, popping his head from the corner that leads to their life lobby. “need a minute?”

“i’ll be down in a second,” logan answers, looking over his shoulder as oscar nods firmly and disappears into the corner. he lets out a shaky breath before he turns back to the small girl standing by the door, handle in her hands as she leans against the door frame. “i’m going to miss living with you.”

she smiles, another tear falling right out of her eye. “i’m going to miss you too. it’s okay that we’re like this, right? we’ve lived together for almost a decade — it’s weird not waking up to your breakfast.”

“don’t skip breakfast, okay?” he presses his lips together. “take care of yourself, dude.”

she laughs her sob out, more tears starting to roll down her cheeks. she sighs, palms over her face as she shies her emotions away. “this is so stupid. i’m literally coming over to help you move in in an hour. i just need to take a shower and feed kidnapper some breakfast.”

logan snorts, throwing his head back, tears slowly leaving his eyes. “10 years is a long time to be living together. we’re still best friends even if we’re not living together. we’ve made it work with oscar, haven’t we?”

“obviously,” she mutters. “i’ll see you later, okay?”

“okay,” logan grins. he leans down, wrapping both arms around her smaller frame and tightens his grip. “i’m sorry again for how things turned out. you’ll always be my best friend, you know that, right?”

she stumbles into him, tiptoeing as she tries to keep her feet on the ground as he squeezes her and lifts her off the ground slightly. “i know. you’ll always be my bestest friend in the entire world, lo. forever wasn’t going to wait for us.”

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419 notes · View notes

shuadotcom · 1 month

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In Case You Didn’t Know (M)

Pairing: Lee Chan x Fem!Reader

Summary: Chan has always been just one of your step-brother’s best friends. He’s also been in love with you for as long as everyone remembers, but you never paid him much mind - that is until you decide to return home after many years away and you see the man he’s become. He goes from being your little brother’s best friend to being the perfect man for you in a matter of months. Now the questions are who wants who more and will either of you do anything about your feelings?

Genres: Fluff, romance, smut, a little angst | AUs: Brother’s best friend au, roommates au, 90s au

Rating: 18+(MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED) | Words: 28.8k 🥴

Warnings: Profanity, alcohol use, will-they-won’t-they tension, a scene of reader x Lee Minhyuk (suggestive) and reader x Joshua (romantic) | Smut Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering (f.receiving), oral (f.receiving), thigh riding, praise, dirty talk, pet names (baby, babygirl, good boy), service top!Chan

Note: Written for the Now That’s 90s collab hosted by @beomcoups & @mingsolo ! I wanted to get this out for Christmas but my brain had other plans. I wanted to invoke a kind of cheesy Christmas romance movie feel to this while still keeping it 90s so that’s the vibe we’re going for! Thank you to the always amazing @wongyuseokie for the lovely banner 💙 And thank you @wooahaeproductions for beta reading my word vomit and helping me come up with this title! I love and appreciate you very much my beta/fic title queen! 💖 Also, I want to give giant sappy thank yous, hugs, and kisses to Bee, @horanghater, @onlymingyus, and @the-boy-meets-evil for all giving me pep talks and offering support throughout the process of this fic coming to exist. It’s my longest fic ever and I wanted to start over so many more times than I did so I appreciate and love y’all v much!! 🥹💞🫶🏽

“Miss? We’re here,” The taxi driver's voice wakes you, bleary eyes focusing on the apartment building outside the car window. You hadn’t been sleeping that long, but it was long enough to make you tired after your fifteen-hour flight to Seoul. That, coupled with the heat of the taxi made you cozy enough to nap, but you’re finally looking forward to being out of a moving vehicle.

As the taxi driver unloads your suitcases from the trunk, you step out into the cold September air, and triple-check the address of the apartment building, comparing the number on the building in front of you to what’s written in your planner in hand. You had verified the address with your step-brother each time the two of you spoke on the phone leading up to your flight to Korea.

When you originally told Hansol that you decided that you were ready to quit your flight attendant career and move back home, your original plan was to move back in with your parents. Going into it, you knew well enough that the move would be annoying. You loved your mom and stepdad, but your mom was a bit of a helicopter mom growing up, so you can only imagine what living under her roof again would be like.

Luckily, you and your brother have always gotten along and been close, so instead of subjecting you to moving back home, he offered to let you move in with him and his roommate. Their third roommate was planning on moving out to live with his partner, so his room would be open for the taking.

“It’d be so much easier than putting an ad in the paper or online and interviewing strangers. You and Chan are cool right?” Hansol had asked, referring to his other roommate. Lee Chan was one of his best friends since you all were kids. Other than his very loud and very obvious crush on you, you had no problem with Chan and gladly accepted the room offer.

After you and your brother made a plan for you to move in, you contacted your oldest and closest friend who had offered you job opportunities before, citing if you ever wanted to move back to South Korea, she would do her damndest to get you something. Needless to say, she was thrilled to hear your voice when you finally called and broke the news.

The planning to get here seemed like it took forever, but now that you’re back with your feet on Seoul soil, you were happy. The journey of closing this chapter of your life was wrapping up. Now you will have a chance at doing something different for the next part of your life.

With both full-to-the-brim suitcases in hand, you roll them behind you into the building and to the elevator. The ride to the third floor is short and the walk to your brother’s apartment is even shorter.

Just as he had instructed, you lift the welcome mat to find a key waiting for you and use it to let yourself in.

“Han?” You call your brother’s name once inside but don’t get a response. You can hear water running down the hall and see shoes by the door so he’s obviously home.

Your eyes sweep over the living room as you take off your coat and boots. You’re surprised at just how clean the apartment is with two men in their mid-twenties living in it. The couch is a simple black fabric three-seater with a matching chair off to the side. A brown wood coffee table sits in front of both with a few magazines and two remotes on it. Presumably, for the TV and VCR sitting across the room from the seating.

You had half expected to see clothes and movies strewn across the floor and furniture, but there’s none of that in sight.

After hanging your coat on the rack by the door and leaving your boots with the other pair, you leave your suitcases in the foyer and start down the hallway, heading for what you assume is the bathroom. You’re not sure which room is Hansol’s, but he mentioned that he’d be home when you got in, so you plan on poking your head into each door until you find the one that so obviously screams Chwe Hansol.

The water cuts off in the bathroom as your socked feet pad across the carpet and you make a pitstop at the bathroom, figuring you’ll just meet your brother there instead.

“Hansol?” You raise a hand to knock on the door at the same time that it swings open. It is most certainly not your brother on the other side.

Out of the bathroom, clad in only a fluffy white towel slung low on his hips, steps your brother’s roommate and best friend Lee Chan.

The same Lee Chan that you’ve known since he was in grade school when his hair was spiked, his eyes were too far apart and his head was too big for his body. The same one that’s been hopelessly in love with you since he and his family moved in next door to you and Hansol when he was ten. You of course have had to turn him down all of your life. Other than the fact that he’s a few years younger than you, he was always just your brother’s awkward but sweet best friend. You remember exactly how he looked and how he acted - like a kid.

This Lee Chan though is different. This Lee Chan very clearly works out. His arms are muscular and buff. He has defined pecs and abs that are still covered in flecks of water that are dripping down his built body. Dripping down to the light dusting of hair leading from his belly button and underneath the towel.

This Lee Chan has a strong jaw, pouty lips, and dark hair that hangs in his eyes. This Lee Chan is one of the finest men you’ve ever seen in your life - and a man he most certainly is. Your eyes unabashedly sweep over his mouth-watering frame until you meet his brown eyes and you remember instantly that this is still the Lee Chan that you should absolutely not be looking at like this.

“Oh! Y/n!” His voice is much deeper than you remember and it sits heavy in the pit of your stomach.

“Chan! Sorry, I thought you were Hansol! He said he’d be home when I got in.” You clear your throat, trying to get a grip on yourself.

“Oh yeah, he got called into work at the last minute. He left you a note on the fridge.”

“Oh, okay.”

The two of you stand there for a moment, neither of you speaking.

“Well uh, let me get dressed and then I can give you a tour of the apartment and your room. I’m heading out soon to meet up with some friends, but I have time.”

“Only if you want to! I don't want to hold you up!”

“You won’t, promise! Just give me a few minutes.”

Chan flashes you a smile that fills up his whole face and you can’t help but notice how handsome he looks.

You nod and scurry to the opposite side of the hallway, realizing that you’re still trapping him in the doorway of the bathroom. You watch him walk into what you can only assume is his room and go back into the living room, waiting for him on the couch.

You’re thankful for him needing to take a few minutes because you need some time yourself as well. The fact that this man is the same boy that you grew up alongside is a lot to wrap your head around.

The two of you have always gotten along. He was a sweet kid even though all he did was follow you around at any moment he could. He was funny and probably one of Hansol’s most respectful friends which you appreciate, given that his friend group was all just a bunch of rowdy boys, but you’ve never thought about him like that in all the time that you knew him.

Over the years, there have been a few times where you’d see him in pictures your mom would email or mail to you whenever you were somewhere for a long period of time. The last time you’d come home for the holidays was three years ago and you saw Chan briefly, but from what you recall, he just looked like some guy to you when you had seen him. He did not look like this then and he certainly hadn’t been this good-looking growing up or maybe you would have entertained something with him.

That thought is only fleeting and you have to calm your heart (and your pussy) from reacting to seeing him like this. He’s still your little brother’s best friend and he’s now your roommate, and in no way can anything happen. That is messy on so many levels.

This sudden onslaught of want has to be because you’re just that desperate for a romantic connection with someone. Or you just need to get laid. Trying to maintain any semblance of a relationship in your line of work proved to be harder than you’d think.

For the past almost 10 years of working in the sky, you’ve had your fair share of hookups here and there. Your last was a fun, albeit messy, fling with a new pilot you were often on the same flights with named Kevin. He was handsome and funny and easy to get along with, but that didn’t end well, seeing how he got right to work hooking up with all the other flight attendants on his flights. You weren’t sure if commitment in the form of officially being boyfriend and girlfriend was what you wanted with him, but you had gone out of your way to make sure you weren’t sleeping around or seeing other people when the two of you got together. He didn’t agree with that.

Before Kevin, there was another flight attendant you were often on the same flights as. Krystal was sweet and the two of you had grown close, but she wanted to keep your relationship a secret from everyone all of the time. You had known going into it that you were still in a time where people were weird about queer people, but you also didn’t care that much. She did though, and ended up calling it off mostly due to paranoia.

Then there was the wealthy businessman, Jacob. He was an amazing guy and an even more amazing lay, but he wanted you to quit your job and move to Canada with him. This was a bit earlier in your career so you were nowhere near ready to abandon it all. He didn’t like that and would get into huge fights with you about it until you finally broke it off.

There were other tries and fails, but the moral of the story is that dating was damn near impossible for you for most of your adult life. Now that you’re planning on finally settling somewhere, you need to get back onto the dating scene and stop lusting over someone you should not be drooling over.

Chan comes out of his room then, dressed and hair styled. He’s clad in denim jeans and a white, long-sleeved shirt and somehow your eyes still sweep over him as if he’s still standing in front of you in a towel.

He doesn’t seem to notice your ogling since he simply flashes you a wide smile and beckons you to follow him into the next room.

“So, the apartment isn’t anything too fancy. We’ve got the kitchen around the corner here; if you go through that door, that’s the balcony. There’s a couple of chairs and a drying rack out there - nothing very interesting.” He points around the simple kitchen, gesturing to the sliding door next to the fridge leading to the balcony. Chan walks in front of you again to lead you back out into the living room and you can’t help but catch a whiff of his cologne. The warm, woodsy scent makes you groan internally, and yet again, you need to check yourself.

He gestures to the living room, mentioning the entertainment center and their VHS collection. He mentions that your brother made a space for you under the sink in the bathroom for you to put some of your things. Chan points out the small closet next to the bathroom where they keep extra towels and linens and the washing machine which sits in a small nook next to that closet.

The room directly across from the bathroom belongs to Hansol, and when looking inside you see that’s obvious. Posters line the walls and CDs and books are piled on the dark wood desk in the corner. Clothes are strewn about on the floor along with a few pairs of sneakers. Since the rest of the apartment is cleaned up, clearly Hansol reserves the mess for his own space.

The second room next to Hansol’s is Chan’s. He lets you poke your head in and you’re surprised at how neat it is, much like the main area of the apartment. It’s safe to assume that Chan must be in charge of keeping things neat or at least keeping your notoriously messy brother in line.

The last room at the end of the hall is yours. It previously belonged to Seungkwan, another one of Hansol’s best friends and their former roommate. It’s clean and neat, with a desk against the wall on one side and a made-up bed on the other. A dresser sits near the closet next to a full-length mirror. Otherwise, there’s not much else in it.

“Oh! Let me grab your bags! I should’ve offered.” Chan ignores your protest telling him not to worry about it and goes to get your suitcases anyway.

He wheels them down the hall and into your room as you grab your backpack and purse and follow behind him.

“Thanks, Chan.” He leaves your luggage by the door and smiles at you again.

“No worries, Y/n,” Chan checks his watch before announcing that he’s about to leave. “ If you need anything, Hansol should be back later this afternoon and I know he keeps the number to his work line on the fridge. I’ll probably be home in the evening, but otherwise, the apartment is yours since you live here now.” Chan waves at you as he leaves your room and you take a seat on the chair in front of the desk, listening as he collects his things and shouts another goodbye, closing, and locking the front door behind him.

The apartment is quiet when it’s just you and the temptation to sprawl out onto the bed and take a nap is so real, but instead, you force yourself up and out into the living room. You know that you should call your mom and let her know you’ve landed, but you also know she’ll talk your ear off if she answers, and you’re not really in the mood for that.

Instead, you pick up the phone on the side table and call your childhood best friend Jinah, intending to coordinate a time to meet and catch up. When she doesn’t answer you leave a message, letting her know this phone number and that you’ve made it to Seoul. There are a few other friends you need to connect with, but that can wait until later.

For now, you decide that a hot shower is calling you. Admittedly, it takes a few minutes for you to figure out how the shower works, but when you do, you’re more than thankful for the opportunity to clear your head and finally relax. You’ve been frazzled and stressed for months leading up to quitting your career and moving back home, but now that it’s done and you’re here, you feel as though you get a little bit of breathing room.

You still have the matter of getting a new job, which Jinah will be helping you with, and eventually, you need to figure out where you’ll move after you’re back on your feet since you don’t plan on making staying with your brother permanent, but for now, the biggest hurdle of moving back across the globe has been crossed.

After your shower, you make note of how your stomach growls, but decide to get a little unpacking done first. You already know that if you don’t at least start, your suitcases may sit in this room for days until you have the willpower to put things away. After digging your discman out of your backpack, you pop in an Aaliyah CD and get to work.

You only get as far as folding your underwear and bras and putting those in the dresser before you’re stretching out on the bed and telling yourself you’ll only close your eyes for a moment before resuming.

Your head feels groggy when you open your eyes, sit up, and take in your surroundings. For a moment, you forget where you are, until you remember you’re in your new room in Seoul. Sun shines through the curtains covering your window and you spot your discman on the nightstand next to your head.

When you poke your head out of your room, you can hear soft sounds from the TV in the living room, but before you investigate, you take a detour to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

“Look who’s returned to the land of the living!” Hansol greets you when you finally make your way into the living room. He’s lounging on the couch, watching a variety show, but quickly gets up to pull you into a hug.

“Hey, Sol. What time is it?”

“Ten.”

“In the morning?!” You blink at the window with the curtains drawn open, frowning at the sunlight coming into the room. “I got in at noon yesterday!”

Hansol chuckles as you plop onto the couch next to him. “Yep. I tried to wake you when I got home yesterday, but you just grumbled at me and turned back over. I put your discman on the nightstand so you wouldn’t knock it off or anything so you’re welcome.”

“Damn, guess I was just that tired.”

“Yeah, Chan tried to get you up too, but you didn’t budge. He brought dinner home but not even food could get you up.” Hansol laughs, thankfully not noticing the way his words fluster you. The thought of Chan seeing you sprawled out on your bed, mouth likely open as you slept is embarrassing. You quickly have to remind yourself that he is your roommate so he’s bound to see you sleeping and to get over it.

“That explains why it feels like there’s a gaping hole in the pit of my stomach.”

“Don’t worry, there’s leftover pizza in the fridge for you. And I’m sure there’s some other stuff to tide you over until later.”

“Where’s Chan now?”

“Work. Same place I’m about to go. It’s my turn for dinner tonight so I’ll bring chicken home with me.”

“Ugh, I haven’t had good fried chicken since I was in the States and we landed in Atlanta, Georgia for a while.”

“I got you. There’s a really good place not far from the apartment.”

“You’re the best, Sol.”

“I know,” your brother boasts, getting off the couch to stretch.

“Oh! Mom called last night for you. She’s pissed you didn’t call her when you got here.”

Letting out a groan, you roll your eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure. I just didn’t have it in me to listen to her tell me a story that I’ve probably already heard ten times. I’ll call her later after I finish unpacking. I already know she’s gonna want me to come over.”

“Oh, she does. She wants us both over tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?! She didn’t even ask if that works!”

“She didn’t, but that’s because she knows I’m off work tomorrow and in her words, ‘it’s not like your sister has any obligations yet, so you can come over close to lunch.’”

Hansol’s recounting of your mom’s words forces another eye roll out of you, but you’ll both be there and you already know it.

“I’m running to the bathroom then I’ll get ready to head out. Here, have fun.” He hands you the TV remote before disappearing into the bathroom.

Before you can get comfortable, you pull your tired body from the couch to grab leftovers and eat before your mom calls again, inevitably nagging you about not calling her earlier.

As expected when you settle back down to call, your mom picks up the phone on the first ring and spends the next ten minutes chastising you for not calling her when you landed. You apologize multiple times, assuring her that both you and Hansol will visit her tomorrow.

Also as expected she talks your ear off for about twenty minutes, giving you updates that you know she’ll tell you about again tomorrow. Thankfully, the mailman shows up in the middle of another story about the neighbor she’s been having a holiday decoration war with for the last three years in a row so she lets you go, saying she’s happy to see you tomorrow.

Jinah is next on your call list and she also picks up after a few rings, cheering as soon as she hears your voice, celebrating your arrival in Seoul.

“I’m so happy we’re in the same timezone again!”

“Me too. I don’t even remember the last time we got to sit and chat.”

“I want to say it was when we were both in Spain last year. You had that day-long layover and I was out there for Fashion Week.”

“Oh, you’re right! You met that guy at that mall we went to.”

“Mmm, Ricky! He was so sweet. He still calls me sometimes. I don’t always answer, but he tries.” Jinah giggles, no doubt at some memory of her and the model she easily picked up that day.

She shifts around on the other line. “Oh damn, as much as I want to catch up with you babe, I’m about to head out for a meeting. Can we meet up tomorrow?”

“Yeah, if you can do it late in the afternoon? My mom wants me and Hansol to come over tomorrow. She already chewed my head off for not calling her when I got in.”

“Oh, Mrs. Chwe. Well, after you’re done with family time, let’s meet up! There’s a new bakery that opened in Hongdae that I haven’t tried yet. We can go together since it’s not too far from your parents’ place.”

“Please! I am craving a croissant actually.” Jinah tells you the address which you quickly write down, agreeing to meet tomorrow afternoon.

With that call over, you decide to finally bite the bullet and finish unpacking your things so you can stop thinking about it. It doesn’t take very long, seeing how your whole life was packed away in two suitcases, a backpack, and a purse. You make a mental note to do some decoration shopping for your room once you have the funds and decide to reward yourself with TV time.

You didn’t get to catch up on many shows always being on the go, so you plan to spend your time now getting in the know and watching as many reruns as you can catch. Among other things, not being in the sky for 90% of your time will offer you the opportunity to take things much slower. You’re used to always either being on a plane, spending a few nights in hotels or short-term rental places, or rushing between all of these destinations, so you plan on doing the complete opposite with your new schedule now.

You’re stretched out on the couch, enjoying an episode of one of the new dramas everyone around you has mentioned when you fall asleep again, your eyelids unable to concentrate for long.

You don’t even realize you’ve fallen asleep until you feel yourself being slightly shaken, your eyes cracking open to see Chan staring down at you. When your eyes finally adjust you get a better look at him and note how handsome he looks in his leather jacket and beanie. Why is that even the first thing you thought?

“Hey, sleepyhead. We’re home and we have dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“Yeah, fried chicken!” You sit up, groggily rubbing your eyes and you see Hansol coming into the living room, bag in hand.

You step away to freshen up, fixing your hair and splashing some water on your face. Your brother and Chan have already set up the chicken and beer on the coffee table, taking their seats on the floor around the table as Hansol flips through TV channels.

Plopping on the floor across from Chan, Hansol pulls a can of soda out of the bag next to you, sliding it over your way. You eagerly open it, thanking him for remembering your lack of enthusiasm about drinking, and grab a piece of chicken.

“So, Y/n,” Chan starts, his full attention on you. “What brought you back to Seoul? When we talked about you moving in, Hansol told me you wanted to quit and move home, but I didn’t ask why.”

“I was just ready for something more stable, is all. Traveling the world is fun and I didn’t hate my job - I met a ton of new and interesting people - but at some point, I just got tired of never having a true place that is mine. I mean, I’ve been doing this since I was twenty. There are only so many hotels and rental places a person can do until they get tired of the constant movement.”

“That makes sense. When I went abroad during my first year of college I got super homesick so I ended up coming back. Some of our friends said I was lame for coming back, but I don’t know, I’ve always loved Korea you know? It’s where I grew up and I feel safe and secure here. I guess I just needed time away to decide what I wanted to do.”

You nod along, understanding what he means. You didn’t know too much about Chan after you graduated and left Korea, so it was nice to learn a little more about him.

“I get that, I mean we see I’m back now after all these years. Some people just gravitate back to where they came from.”

“Yeah, I was just surprised when Hansol mentioned you coming back. I remember you being so excited after graduation because you knew what you wanted to do already and I know you just wanted to see something else other than here.” Chan smiles at you gently. The fact that he remembers how you were feeling after graduation is sweet to you.

“I was excited and I don’t regret what I chose to do. It was fun but ended up not being my end-all-be-all, which is okay. But anyway, enough about me! Hansol told me that you own a dance studio?”

“Oh, yeah. I took over my dad’s dance studio. He’s still around, but I own it. We’re talking about expanding and making it an actual dance company. People from all over Korea come to the studio, so if we can find more spaces and good instructors we can open another here and even abroad.”

“That’s amazing, Chan! You always loved to dance. I’m glad you’re able to do it full-time.” The tips of Chan’s ears redden at your compliment and he takes a long swig of his beer.

“Thanks, Y/n.”

“Of course. I only hope that now that I’m back I can find the next thing that I want to do. My friend Jinah, I don’t know if you guys remember her, but she’s going to get me a job at the modeling agency she works at. It’ll probably just be something in the office until I find something else or figure out my next move.”

“Well, you’ve always been really smart and ambitious so I’m sure you’ll find something you’re good at now that you’re back.”

“Thank you, Chan.” You feel your face heat up at his words.

The two of you seem to share a moment where you both glance down at your food, then back up at each other every few minutes.

Hansol suddenly clears his throat as if reminding you both that he’s sitting right in between you.

“Things at my job are going well thanks for asking.”

You both snap out of whatever that moment was and recover by asking Hansol how he likes his new responsibilities, recalling the raise he got recently at work. Hansol’s worked for the same newspaper company for the past four years and you know he’s done his best to gain a good reputation at the company and that he works hard.

You do your best to avoid the questioning look he’s passing between the two of you and instead take a big bite of the chicken wing in front of you.

“It’s good. I write movie reviews now which is cool. I get to see a bunch of movies that come out before the general public for free. It’s much better than the random articles they had me working on before this promotion.”

“I’m proud of you, Sol.” You reach over to ruffle his hair with the hand not touching your food, ignoring the groan he lets out at the action. “Maybe one day you can bring your big sister to one of these early movie showings?”

“Tch, good luck. He won’t even bring me,” Chan mumbles, taking another sip of beer.

“I’m watching movies for work, thank you very much.” Hansol rolls his eyes at the way that Chan sticks his tongue out at him playfully. “Speaking of work, Y/n, make sure you let me know soon if Jinah can’t get you into her company. We have some openings that popped up recently and I’m sure I can get you in if you need it.”

“I will. We’re gonna hang out tomorrow after we see Mom and Dad and I’ll ask her more about it then.”

The three of you spend the rest of dinner watching TV and spend more time catching up. Hansol talks about some upcoming articles he has to work on, Chan goes over more plans for expanding his father’s dance studio, and the men both question you about all the places you’ve traveled to and everything you did as a flight attendant.

After dinner, you help clean up the trash before deciding to go to bed. Your internal clock is still readjusting to a semi-normal schedule, so you need at least a few more days before you can stay up later than 9 PM.

“Goodnight, guys,” You wave at the boys, heading down the hall into your room. You’ll take a shower in the morning - for now, you just want to rest.

Once you’re in your room, the door shut, Hansol eyes Chan as the man casts a few glimpses down the hall. He chuckles, getting his best friend’s attention.

“What?”

“Your crush is still showing, you know.”

Frowning, Chan looks between Hansol and the hallway before fixing his gaze on the TV.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Hansol scoffs at him but drops it. He knows Chan well enough to know when he’s lying through his teeth, but he won’t press it.

“Whatever you say, dude.” Hansol shrugs, announcing that he’s going to get ready for bed too. Chan stays in the living room, staring at the TV for a little while longer, but not taking in the show.

All he can think about is the fact that he is very much still into you and he’s never actually stopped. When Hansol brought up you moving in with them, he had no problem with it. You’re his best friend’s sister who needs help, of course, he wouldn’t say no. Chan figured that it would be nice to get to know you more as an adult since all of the knowledge he has of you is the person you were from middle school to high school and the things he hears Hansol or the Chwes say about what you are doing or where you are.

He knew it would be nice to catch up and spend time with you because you’ve always gotten along and you were always nice to him. He hadn’t expected his decade-old crush to creep back into his heart the moment he laid eyes on you, but it did. Chan doesn’t know what to do with these feelings so for now, he’ll squash them down the same way he has since he was ten. He’s more than used to it by now.

“My Y/n!”

It’s the first thing out of your mom’s mouth when she opens the front door, sweeping you up into a hug. She rocks you back and forth telling you how much she missed you.

“Wow, she never hugs me like that,” Hansol murmurs behind you as he steps inside and starts taking his shoes off.

“Oh, hush Sollie! I saw you two weeks ago. I haven’t seen your sister in two years!”

She does end up reaching over to pull Hansol into a hug of his own, once she decides you can breathe again. Your stepdad follows a minute after, hugging you for a much more normal amount of time, but also makes sure to let you know he’s personally offended that you haven’t been home in so long.

As anticipated, your mom has a full spread of food waiting on the table and ushers you and Hansol to sit and eat. Also as expected, she gives you the third degree, wanting to know about your work, your plans, and everything in between, which includes your nonexistent love life. You appease her and keep it short and simple: you’re hearing from Jinah soon about a position, you plan on doing that for at least the next year or two to save up enough money to move into a place of your own, and you’re single and have been for months.

This turns into an almost two-hour visit. If your parents aren’t asking you about your travels or asking Hansol about his job, they’re circling back to you and the fact that ‘now that you’re home and getting situated, you can think about eventually settling down. Since you’re almost thirty.’

You keep to yourself that you have had pretty lackluster luck when it comes to dating overall, but your mom still finds opportunities to sprinkle in that she could ask around to her friends about whose sons may be single, and you tell her you don’t need the help (even though you know she’ll likely do it anyway).

Eventually, you manage to get your parents to talk about themselves and get them to update you on things in the house they’re fixing up, how your dad is doing at work, and some new crochet projects your mom is working on.

Even though they can smother you at times, you know they both do what they do out of love - especially your mom. You did miss your parents at the end of the day and they mean well. They love you and Hansol and have missed you terribly - the latter a fact that your mom made sure to reiterate over and over again.

Before you leave, your mom repeats how happy she is that you’re back home, especially in time for the holidays, and truthfully, so are you. You love holidays because you love decorating and you love all of the themed things that come with holidays. Hansol mentions that he and Chan have never really worried about decorating their apartment, which you immediately informed him will change this year. You plan on decorating the apartment for Halloween and will turn it into a winter wonderland come November. Your brother knows you well enough not to argue and simply laughs, shrugging and telling you to go crazy.

After you finally manage to escape from your parents’ house, you and Hansol split up. He’s going to meet up with some friends and will meet you at home later, he says. You take a cab for the short ride to the coffee shop you and Jinah are meeting at and you notice you’ve arrived first when you don’t see anyone that resembles her.

You’ve only sat down for less than a minute when she sweeps into the shop with her long coat, big sunglasses, and beanie. She slips the sunglasses down her nose and peers around before meeting your eyes. A smile breaks out across her red-painted lips and she rushes over to you. She looks as pretty as she did growing up and it warms your heart. It makes complete sense that she’s such a prolific model now.

“Y/n!” She says your name when making it to the table and pulling you into a hug.

“Hey, Jinah! It’s so good to see you!”

“You too! It’s been too long and I hate it.” She pouts at you as she moves to her seat, shedding her coat, and hanging it on the back of her chair.

“I know, I know. But I’m here now.”

“You are and you’re gonna get sick of seeing me so much! Especially, if you get a spot at the company! I’m still waiting for my boss to get back to me about your resume.”

“Ugh, I hope it’s soon. I’m not picky about what’s open honestly, I just need something.”

“Well you know I’ll call you as soon as I get some info. I’m sure they’ll hire you. I’m noted as your referral and everyone loves me there!”

Before you dive into more chit chat, you pause the conversation, wanting to order coffee. Jinah takes your order and goes to the counter herself, quickly coming back with two hot cups of caffeine.

“Okay, so no more work talk. How is it living with a couple of twenty-something boys after jetsetting all around the world?”

“Not so bad really. The apartment is surprisingly clean and put together. Me and Hansol have always been close, you know so it’s good so far. And Chan is cool - we’ve always gotten along. He was always around growing up so I’m used to having him in my space anyway. He’s different now of course, but uh, yeah you know.”

You stumble, just slightly on your last sentence and something flashes in Jinah’s eyes, her perfectly waxed brows rising almost immediately. You forgot about the fact that no matter how long you two spend apart, she’s still your best friend and she knows you almost as well as she knows herself.

“He’s different?” There’s a tilt in her voice that you don’t recall having in your words.

“I didn’t say it like that!”

“Yes, the hell you did! He’s different how? All I remember about your brother’s best friend is some skinny, big-headed kid that followed us around at school and whenever I was over your house.”

You bite your lip, assessing Jinah and if there’s any way you can steer the conversation elsewhere.

No such luck arrives for you though as she sits there, unwavering as she patiently waits for you to tell her the truth. You already know she won’t leave it alone if you don’t.

Begrudgingly, you give in, letting out a heavy sigh. “Fine, whatever, he’s fucking hot now, okay?! I’ve only been there like three days and any time I run into him he’s nothing but polite and considerate. He’s always been nice but he’s mature now. It’s just so different.”

“Hmph. So, you think he’s mature and polite and hot now? Got it.” She nods, taking a sip of her coffee, and swallowing slowly before speaking. “So do you think you’ll finally give him a chance?”

“Absolutely not! He’s younger than me and not only my brother’s best fucking friend but we’re roommates now. The level of messiness went from 80% to 180% if something goes wrong between us.”

“Yeah, but the chances of things going well also go from 80% to 180% too, right?”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“But you’re both adults! What does it matter? Do you think Hansol will care?”

“I don’t know. But again, the main problem is if Chan and I only end up being a hookup or one of us wants something that the other doesn’t then living with the man will be incredibly awkward, and once again, he and my brother are best friends. Things won’t only be awkward for us, but I don’t want to drag Sol into that mess either. So it’s in everyone’s best interest that I keep my mouth and my legs closed and don’t even think about trying anything with Chan.”

Jinah hums and clearly disagrees but she doesn’t press it. Not that she has to because just like she knows you, you know her, and you know she has so many objections rattling around in her head.

“Anyway, time to hear about you! Tell me about your love life! Is it busy? Are you seeing anyone? Are you sleeping with anyone? I want to know everything about Im Jinah’s romantic endeavors.”

Your best friend clicks her tongue at you, noticing the obvious conversation redirect, but she obliges. She talks about a guy she’s mentioned to you before that she works with that she’s been on a few dates with. As an aside, she mentions that there are plenty of hot, single people at her company that you’ll run into, but you wave that part off.

She mentions that she needs to go shopping this upcoming weekend for a Halloween costume for a party a friend of hers is throwing at the end of October. She also addsthat you too, will be going to said party with her.

“I am?”

“You are. So, this weekend we’ll be getting costumes. A guy I’ve done a ton of ads and shoots with has a party every year and you’ll be my plus one! He’s super nice and pretty wealthy so his place is really nice.”

You do love Halloween and you haven’t really gotten to do much to celebrate it the last handful of years, so you agree to go, even though you knew she would’ve hounded you about going for days anyway. You saved both of you some trouble.

On the topic of Christmas, the two of you get caught up in talking about needing to figure out what to get people and when to go shopping to get ahead of it. You easily fall into conversation with your best friend, your subject changing every few minutes as you laugh and properly get caught up until you’ve both got two empty coffee cups each.

Eventually, Jinah glances at her watch and curses.

“Damn, I’ve got another meeting to run to. My manager and I have been meeting with a few magazines for some last-minute holiday ads they want to shoot for. “I’ll be sure to badger her about any news on your resume okay?”

You and Jinah exchange your goodbyes and you promise to chat in a few days if you don’t hear from her sooner. Even though she’s busy, she cites she’ll still be sure to make time for the two of you to hang out more. You both walk out of the shop together and with a goodbye hug, you both go your separate ways. Her to grab a taxi and you to the train station to head back home.

Chan really thought he was done with big life revelations. His last and biggest was deciding that college and a traditional degree weren’t what he wanted. After that, a bunch of smaller decisions hit him but no combination of realizations, big or small, could’ve prepared him for the fact that he’s still hopelessly in love with the same girl for the last almost fifteen years.

But seeing you again was like someone doused him with a gallon of cold water to the face. Shocking and jarring and nothing could’ve prepared him. Not for the way his eyes almost bugged out of his head upon seeing you again after what felt like far too long or the way his palms got sweaty just being close to you, even though he had just finished a shower before seeing you.

Chan was so sure that he was over you. He’s had plenty of partners over the years. Some serious and some not so much, but he doesn’t think he’s ever compared any of those people to you. It’s been years so surely he isn’t still hung up on his best friend’s older sister.

Unfortunately for him, that is exactly what he is and he’s not sure what to do with this information. A tiny voice in the back of his mind keeps telling him he’s a loser for not being over his childhood crush who has never reciprocated the feelings anyway. Never once have you made any indication that you thought of Chan the same, so it’s not as though you’re going to magically do it now…right?

His mind is so wrapped up in you that he keeps fumbling with the moves he practices at work in preparation for a dance class in a few days. He lets out another frustrated huff as he watches himself in the mirror trip over his feet yet again.

Chan’s close friend and co-choreographer at the studio walks over to the boombox at the side of the room, cutting off the music and staring him down.

“Okay, where’s your head, Chan?” Soonyoung looks at him pointedly. “You’ve been distracted since you get here and keep fucking up.” He waits for an answer, hands on his hips.

Chan hesitates for a moment, wondering if he wants to repeat his early years - where he would tell anyone who would listen that he was in love with Y/n Chwe. This is different though, this is his friend checking on him so he decides to tell Soonyoung.

“The girl I’ve loved since I was ten is back in town.”

“Okay?”

“And I still love her.”

“And? You’re both adults now so you can do something about it right?”

“And she’s living with me. We’re roommates now.”

“And?” Soonyoung rolls his eyes, still not seeing too much of an issue with this.

“She, uh, she’s Hansol’s sister.”

Soonyoung cocks his head to the side in thought. “Okay…well what’s the problem? Hansol is super chill. Do you think he’ll be mad about it?”

“I don’t know. I know Hansol more than almost anybody, but for some reason, I’m still really stressed about how he’ll react.”

“You could always ask him?” Soonyoung tries, offering Chan a bottle of water from the cooler across the room.

“I don’t know. I mean, even if I do and he’s okay with it, what if I ask her out and she says no? She had never liked me like that when we were young. I was always just her brother’s snot-nosed best friend.”

“I get being worried about that, but you’re grown now. Maybe things can be different?”

“Yeah, but if she turns me down, I don’t want to make things awkward for us all living together. And even if I am in some bizarre universe where she is into me too, I could very well fuck this up and she’ll want nothing to do with me and we’ll break up and it’ll still be awkward and then Hansol could not want to be my friend anymore or want me to move out and then what?” Chan ends his rant with a grunt, sliding against the mirror until he plops onto the hardwood floor. Soonyoung comes over and joins him, sitting cross-legged next to his friend.

“This has really been on your mind huh?”

“Hard for it not to be when she is as beautiful as always and sleeping in the room right next to me now.”

“Well, even though I’ve never been through something like this, my advice? Maybe try to just take it slow. Hang out with her more, test the waters, and see if she reciprocates. If so, then either keep getting closer or ask her out and go from there. What’s the point in constant what-ifs you know? Maybe you’re getting a second chance now that you’re both adults and in good places in your life. And sure you might fuck it up, but you also might not. You’ll never know if you don’t try.” Soonyoung shrugs, taking a gulp of water.

Chan side-eyes his friend, genuinely surprised at his words.

“Since when did you turn into a relationship expert with actual good advice?”

Soonyoung chokes on his water, coughing loudly to recover. “What do you mean actual good advice?! I give good advice all the time!”

“Tsk, just like that so-called, good advice you gave me that one time we went to the club and you told me I should start a dance battle with that girl that was flirting with me?”

The man looks genuinely offended, hand flying to his chest in surprise.

“First of all, I was drunk! Second of all, that was a good idea. She said she liked dancers!”

“Yeah, but I think she meant slow, sensual dancing like we had been doing all night before you swooped in with your so-called, good advice.”

“Whatever! Don’t take my advice and pine over this woman for another decade. Just decide so you can stop fucking up this dance!” Soonyoung pushes him over, making him land on his side, but the push is more playful than anything.

While Soonyoung may not have a great track record of steering Chan in the right direction, he mulls it over for the rest of the day after getting back to practicing. He ultimately decides that maybe Soonyoung is right. He won’t do anything weird or out of the ordinary. He’ll just be himself and try to spend more time with you and hopefully be able to show you the real him. The him that’s a mid-twenties career man with a plan and a future, who’s much more mature than from when you used to know him.

If he’s lucky, he won’t make a fool out of himself and if you’re not into him still, you’ll at least let him down gently. If he’s super lucky, you’ll feel the same way about him and he’ll finally get to call you his.

He’s not going to hold his breath, but he’ll regret it once again if he doesn’t at least try with you, unlike he failed to do when he was young and dumb.

Getting the call three days later from Jinah that you got a job at her agency was the best news you’ve gotten in a very long time. Her boss manages to get you a role in their travel department. You’d be working with the assistants of the models to help get their travel booked, manage their transportation, and help arrange all things travel related. While you don’t have any office experience, your flight attendant experience seems to be enough to get you into the role and you weren’t about to argue with that.

As soon as you start, you consider yourself lucky that you seem to fall into the team you’re on easily. It’s not difficult to get comfortable and find your place which makes getting settled all that much simpler. Plus, the pay is decent, and even a little more than what you previously made, so you can’t complain about that.

Jinah uses the Halloween party she told you about as an excuse to go out with you again and an excuse to celebrate your job. Hansol and Chan had already gotten you a small cake to celebrate which was extremely sweet, so you don’t mind celebrating with Jinah.

The cake, you learn in passing from Hansol, was Chan’s idea. It’s only one thing on the long list of ways that Chan has succeeded in getting closer to you over the weeks that it takes you to get settled in. You’ve spent time with Chan as a kid when he was around all the time, but you really get the chance to know him now that you’re adults living together.

You learn most, if not all of his likes and dislikes. His favorite colors, favorite foods, movies he likes, and celebrities he can’t stand (his one-sided rivalry with Lee Byunghun is especially funny to you since he also compliments his acting whenever one of his movies is on). He’s constantly making you laugh, always asking how your day was when you see each other in the evenings, and he always says good morning and asks how you slept when you get up for the day. On nights when he has to get dinner for you all, he always asks if there’s any food you're craving because he promises he’ll pick it up or make it (and he always does every time).

On the weekends, when you’re home relaxing and sleeping in, and if he works, he has started to call home often and ask if you need him to grab anything on the way home, be it medicine, food, a video rental, or anything in between. Chan makes it a habit to check in with you even more than your brother, which Hansol calls out one night over dinner. Chan’s cheeks go red and he throws a wayward shrimp at his best friend but doesn’t deny it, citing that he just wants to help you be comfortable.

If he isn’t checking on you or buying you small things, he’s making sure your laundry is washed if he’s doing his and that your favorite mug (the yellow one with the fried eggs print all over it) is always washed. He makes sure your favorite snacks are in the apartment and that you’re never without anything you need - even finding out your preferred brand of tampons and pads and wordlessly getting them for you.

By the time the end of October rolls around, you’ve been living with Chan and your brother for a month and your feelings for Chan are only growing, much to your utter dismay. You don’t want to like him, for the multitude of reasons you’ve already outlined in your head and to Jinah, but he makes it damn near impossible. If he’s not being the most sweet and polite man you’ve ever been around, he’s walking around the apartment shirtless from time to time or coming back from the gym or work sweaty and flushed with his arms on display.

He constantly treats you like a true gentleman would, carrying groceries for you and doing any heavy lifting around the apartment that comes up. It may be the bare minimum, but Chan treats you better as someone you’re not dating than anyone you actually have dated. You’re in a constant battle between your coochie and your heart about your array of feelings for Lee Chan and it’s only serving to drive you crazier each day.

On the night of Halloween, when Jinah is in your room with you getting ready for her friend’s party, she teases that Chan may not be able to hold himself back when he sees you.

“I don’t know, Y/n. Your ass does look really good in this jumpsuit.” You admire your figure in your mirror, admiring how the soft yet clingy fabric does, in fact, do your ass justice.

You and Jinah decided to go with a theme for your costumes. She’s going as an angel, complete with a white mini-dress, wings, and a halo. You went with a devil, the red, clingy jumpsuit you wear hugs every part of your body that you’d wanna show off and the zipper in the front is open just enough to accentuate your cleavage. The horns attached to the headband on your head sit comfortably and are the finishing touch.

Yes, you’re not supposed to want Chan to like you because it’ll make it that much harder for you, but you don’t mind the idea of him looking.

“Ready?” You ask when you’re finally done with your makeup, making sure your red lipstick is perfect.

“Yep! Let me call a car for us!” You and Jinah leave your room and she fishes her Nokia from her white bag.

When you step into the living room, you nearly trip over your feet upon seeing Chan lounging on the couch, flipping through TV channels. You know he and Hansol are also going out tonight to their friend Junhui’s Halloween party, but you hadn’t discussed your costumes.

His black t-shirt is as tight as your jumpsuit is and displays every muscle and ripple in his arms and chest and you even swear you can make out the faint outline of his abs. The black pants he wears are baggy since he’s dressed as a firefighter, but the fabric stretches over his thighs as he spreads his legs, and the suspenders that keep those pants up stir something feral within you. It takes every ounce of willpower not to go over and mount yourself in his lap right then and there.

Chan notices you both come in and hurries to sit up, making room on the couch for you. He seems to take notice of your costume and you watch as his eyes sweep over you from head to toe, unabashed and almost forgetting (or uncaring) that you can see him checking you out.

“Hey! You, uh, you look amazing.” He blurts, eyes still locked onto you. Jinah clears her voice from next to you and Chan seems to then remember that someone else is in the room. “Er, ah, you both do!” He adds, eyes flickering to your best friend who just snorts.

“Thanks, Chan. Our ride is here though, so I do have to steal her away now.”

“Ah, okay. Sure. I’ll see you later tonight, Y/n. Have fun and you both stay safe, okay?”

You nod, telling him to do the same. You catch sight of your brother as you and Jinah are on your way to the door. His Ghostface robe drags on the carpet as he comes down the hall.

Once you and Jinah slide into the car, and she gives the driver the address, she gives you a look.

“Don’t,” you say, stopping her before she can say what you already know she will.

“What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’?”

“Don’t say it.”

“Don’t say what? That Chan got real-time tunnel vision checking you out in your costume and that he forgot I was even in the room.”

“Yes, that! Don’t say that!”

She shrugs, reaching into her bag and pulling out her compact to check her reflection.

“Okay. I won’t say it. I don’t really need to since you know.”

You did, of course, you did. You could feel the heat in his gaze when he looked at you, but you remind yourself that you can’t do anything more than look. Maybe if you’re lucky, someone at this party can distract you.

Truth be told, when you longed for someone at this party to distract you from Chan, you were only putting it into the universe and just keeping your fingers crossed. You didn’t think you’d actually find someone else to catch your interest. You didn’t anticipate that Jinah’s model friend that owns the large, expertly decorated house would take an interest in you, and yet he did the moment you met him.

“Minhyuk, this is my best friend, Y/n! Y/n, this is Lee Minhyuk. Y/n just moved back to Seoul after traveling for work.”

Minhyuk wastes no time in bowing to you before grabbing your hand and placing a kiss on the top of it.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/n. Any friend of Jinah is a friend of mine.” The handsome man smiles widely at you, making you swoon on the spot. “Especially a friend as stunning as you.”

One look at this buff, beautiful man with perfect hair, perfect teeth, and a perfect face and you’re not surprised in the slightest that he’s a model. You’re sure he can get any woman that he wants and that his charms work on anyone he flashes a brilliant smile to. You’re annoyed that he’s having the same effect on you the more he talks to you and stays by your side for the first hour of the party. You chalk it up to having been single for so long and on your repressed desire for Chan, but you let Minhyuk flirt with you and drape his arm over your shoulder as he asks you about your flight attendant days.

Jinah stays with you both for a while after introducing you, but when it seems obvious that Minhyuk is making heart eyes at you, she excuses the two of you momentarily, pulling you aside.

“Hey, are you okay?!” She says as best as she can in your ear. The music from the sound system in the next room is quieter in the dining room you’re standing in, but is still turned up to a booming volume.

“Yeah, I’m good!”

“You sure? He’s hitting on you pretty hard. He’s a good guy but say the word and we’re out of here.” You mull your next words and decisions over, ultimately deciding to stay and see where things go with Minhyuk. You had asked the universe for a distraction on your way and here it is so why pass it up?

“I’m sure. If I need you or want out, I’ll tell you.” Jinah gives you another firm look before relenting and going with you back to Minhyuk’s side.

An hour later Minhyuk offers to show you around his house. Jinah stares at you, trying to gauge your reaction. You’re sure this will end up with the two of you somewhere in this house, presumably naked, but you decide that’s exactly what you need.

Minhyuk keeps his arm draped over your shoulders as she gives you a tour of his house, avoiding all of the drunken party goers and horny couples making out as you go. Almost every room in his house has people packed into it. His den, his game room, his second living room, and all four of his guest rooms. The only room that has no one else in it is his bedroom which is where you ultimately end up.

“Your house is very fancy,” you compliment, looking around his bedroom. The bed is bigger than even some of the hotel beds you’ve slept in. The duvet is soft under your palms as you sit on the edge and lean back on your hands. Art hangs on the walls and he has two dressers that you can see. You can’t see into the bathroom across the room, but the tub you catch sight of has to be able to fit at least four people.

“Thank you, I’m glad you like it. How’s the bed?” Minhyuk smirks at you from across the room, leaning against a tall dresser. The scrubs of his doctor costume are standard, save for the fact that the top is sleeveless. He crosses his arms and you see how every muscle flexes and twitches under his tan skin

“Mmm, it’s pretty soft. Your duvet is nice.” You cross and uncross your legs, watching as the model follows your movements with his eyes.

“Yeah? The sheets are even better.”

“You don’t say?”

“Yeah. They’re real silk. And temperature controlled so they’re the perfect coolness and won’t make you hot.” As he speaks he stalks towards you, tossing aside the surgical mask that has been hanging under his chin since you met him.

“Oh? They sound expensive.”

“They are. And they feel like a cloud. Wanna feel them?” Minhyuk is standing in front of you now, his knee resting against the edge of the bed between your legs, waiting for your next words.

You don’t leave him waiting for long, as you breathe out an “I’d love to,” and he immediately bends forward, hands grabbing your face to pull you into a heated kiss. Your hands reach out to grasp at his arms, nails lightly digging into the firm flesh.

Minhyuk grunts into your mouth, fully climbing onto the bed to hover over your body. One hand stays on your cheek while the other travels down your body, grabbing and squeezing as he settles on your hip.

His tongue slips into your mouth when you separate your lips to take in a breath. Your bodies move together as you shuffle backward up the bed a little, giving him more room to drape his body over yours and kneel between your legs. He presses his pelvis forward, the movement causing him to brush against you, the clothed tip of his hardening length grazing your crotch.

The sensation makes him groan and pause for a moment, his tongue and body stilling. A jolt of confidence rushes over you, making you shift underneath him and flip him onto his side. You quickly push him all the way onto his back and crawl into his lap.

“Mmm maybe I like this view more than you under me,” he mumbles, admiring the new position. He only gets a moment to take it in before you’re leaning down to kiss him again, your fingers brushing through his dark hair. Minhyuk’s hands move down your back to grip your ass.

Your make out session lasts for a few minutes, your mind finally slipping away from everything else that has been tumbling around in your brain. At some point, Minhyuk pulls away with a gasp and quickly peels his top off, tossing it aside before leaning back and letting you ogle him.

Your mouth drops at the sight of him, all chiseled muscle and rippling abs. You gawk for only a moment before your brain decides to remind you of the way that Chan looks without a shirt. He’s also muscular but in a much softer way. Chan’s abs are lightly defined and his pecs are still visible. You also always find your way back to thinking of that day when he had just gotten out of the shower, of the small happy trail that runs down, down, down to where you can’t see. You wonder how soft that dusting of hair is.

Minhyuk momentarily pushes away your Chan imagery when he reaches up to grab your face to pull you back down to kiss him again. Your hands stretch out to steady yourself, finding purchase on his biceps. The hard muscles twitch under your fingers and you squeeze in return. Immediately, you’re reminded of how soft Chan’s biceps and arms are.

A week ago the two of you had run into each other in the hallway of the apartment. You were leaving when he was rounding the corner, coming back from the gym. He had a tank top on and when he appeared in front of you, you both jumped, yelping in surprise. You had reached your hands out by instinct, with the intention of doing what you’re not sure, but when you noticed it was Chan at the last minute your hands unfurled from fists and gripped his arms to steady yourself.

His arms were built, but still so soft and smooth under your hands. That feeling has stayed with you even now as you think about Chan and his arms while another man is kissing your neck.

All of a sudden, you wonder what it would feel like if Chan was the one that was under you and if he was the one whose lips were pressing kisses on your throat instead.

Minhyuk’s fingers walk their way to the front of your jumpsuit and he flicks at the zipper that keeps your outfit secure. Before he has a chance to unzip it, his bedroom door bursts open and a woman stands in the doorway, yelling his name angrily.

The intrusion makes you jump, jerking too far back and toppling backward onto the floor.

“Shit, Y/n! You okay?!” Minhyuk jumps up and offers you his hand, being nice enough to at least check on you.

“Minhyuk, what the fuck?!” The woman screeches again, stomping over to him and shoving his chest. “I’ve been walking around this stupid party looking for you for like half an hour! You invited me tonight just to run off and fuck someone else?!”

“Hyoseong, I’m sorry, I-” Hyoseong cuts him off by shoving him backward, making him lose his balance and fall back onto the bed. He’s too close to the corner of the bed though, because he keeps going and falls back off the side, yelping the whole time.

Hyoseong smirks, satisfied as she watches him before turning her gaze to you still standing there awkwardly. The flame in her eyes diminishes and is replaced with concern.

“He’s not worth it, I promise. All he knows how to do is fuck every girl he looks at and lead you on!” She screams that last part at him before turning and storming back out of the room.

Embarrassment is written all over Minhyuk’s face as he scrambles up and gives you a sheepish smile. He opens his mouth to say something, but you speak first.

“Don’t even try it.” You stick your palm out at him, stopping him from responding.

He listens, not saying anything as you leave the room and beeline back downstairs in search of Jinah. You find her in the kitchen talking to a few other girls and when she sees you, she immediately rushes over to you, worry written all over her face. You reassure her that you’re okay and tell her about Hyoseong and she gasps.

“Fuck, I thought they broke up! Ugh, Y/n, I’m so sorry. I’ll go kick his ass right now!” She looks over your shoulder for him, but you stop her. This is clearly a story you’ll have to ask her about on another day. Right now, all you want to do is go home, shower, and flop into bed.

She doesn’t let you convince her to stay and have fun and is already calling a car for you both. You ride together and you tell her what was going through your head when you were hooking up with Minhyuk and she just nods, letting you pour out your garbled thoughts.

Of course, her response is to act on these feelings, but you quickly shut that down, reminding her of the list of reasons that you cannot act on said feelings. As she’s gotten accustomed to doing, she rolls her eyes and tells you that you’re thinking too much into this.

The conversation dies when you pull up at home, thanking her for the ride and hurrying out before she can keep bringing it up.

Chan is fucked. That’s all he thinks when he and Hansol get to Junhui’s party. Ever since you left, all that his brain plays on a loop is you in that red jumpsuit. It is long sleeved and the bottom of the pants are flared, but the fabric hugs you in every way imaginable. The only things he wanted to look at was the curve of your hips, the swell of your breasts, and the way it framed your ass as you left.

He knows that the image of you in that costume is all he’ll think about for not only the rest of the night but quite possibly for the rest of his life. He did his very best not to make it obvious he was checking you out, but in his defense, he swears he also saw your eyes stay too long on his chest and his thighs.

As the month has ticked by living with you, Chan has only fallen for you even more than he thought was possible. Everything you do and say makes his heart race. Every time he sees you, he wants to hold and kiss you, no matter what time of day it is. You look just as beautiful waking up as you do going to sleep.

He’s whipped and he hasn’t even told you that he’s still in love with you.

He knows he only has eyes for you because he spends the first hour of the party talking with his friends and sipping on a drink, but he still keeps going back to you in his mind. He knows he is especially hopeless when a cute girl approaches him and asks him to dance. He forgets her name as soon as she says it (Yerim maybe?) and even though she looks incredibly sexy in her little black dress and cat ears, the only thing Chan can see is you when he closes his eyes.

Even when she drags him to the living room to dance and presses her body close to his, he wishes it was you that was rubbing your ass against his crotch. Chan wonders what you’re doing right now and if you’re dancing with someone else just like this. He beats himself up at the thought, chiding himself for not asking you to come to this party instead or even to stop by after the one you’re at now. Even though Jinah asked you to her friend’s party first, he still should’ve brought it up, but he was too nervous you’d turn him down. He hates the idea of you looking that stunning and having other people look at you or touch you. He wants you so bad, in any way you’ll have him, and he doesn’t care how pathetic that sounds.

The cat girl seems to take notice that Chan is distracted as his arms lay limp on her hips. She turns around, draping her arms around his neck and pressing her tits against his chest. Her wide brown eyes blink up at him and her black painted lips curl up in a smile. She’s really cute, Chan can admit - like really cute - but she’s also not you. Before he can think anymore, she’s on her tiptoes, placing a kiss on his lips.

Any other time, he doesn’t think he’d turn down a cute girl that is so obviously into him and he certainly wouldn’t turn away from a kiss, but this time is different. This time, Chan only thinks of you and wishes this was you. That’s why he doesn’t make much effort to kiss her back. Not a single spark pops between him and the cat girl. She quickly gets tired of his lack of enthusiasm, soon pulling away and turning in a huff to leave him standing in the middle of the living room.

Chan watches her go, his eyes looking around the room and it hits him how much he doesn’t actually want to be here. He’d much rather be back at home, sitting on the couch with you watching late night sitcoms like the two of you have fallen into the habit of doing.

He’s only at the party for a couple of hours, before he finds Hansol in the kitchen, letting him know that he doesn’t feel very party-like anymore and decides to go home. Hansol is right in the middle of racing with their friend Seokmin, trying to shotgun a beer faster than him, but when he wins, he gives Chan his attention.

“Are you sure? You want me to go with you?”

“Nah, I’m good. Stay. I’m just gonna shower and probably chill.”

“Alright, dude. Can you just keep an eye out for Y/n when you get back?”

Hansol doesn’t have to ask twice. Even if he hadn’t asked once, Chan would’ve looked out for you anyway. It’s why after he’s showered and gotten a snack, he goes to the couch instead of his bed. He assumes you won’t be home until it’s late, but if he’s lucky he’ll catch a glimpse of you before you go to bed and will make sure you’re safe.

He’ll also get one more look at your costume which isn’t as important as making sure you’re safe, but it’s absolutely something he’s looking forward to.

When you get home, you’re surprised to see that the TV in the living room is on. When you round the corner you see Chan sitting on the couch, under a blanket with popcorn in hand and eyes wide in surprise at seeing you.

“Hey, Y/n! You’re home early.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t really feeling like being at a party anymore. Too people-y. I’m surprised you’re here though.”

Chan shrugs, “I guess I wasn’t feeling like being at a party either.”

You hum, glancing at the space on the couch he makes for you. “I’m gonna shower and put on my pajamas. Mind if I hang out here with you when I’m done? I’m not that tired yet.”

“Yeah! I mean, uh, yeah of course you can.” He clears his throat, eyes still flickering between you and the TV.

“Great. I’ll be quick and then we can watch a movie?” Chan nods and shamelessly watches you go when you hurry down the hall and into the bathroom.

You remove your makeup and shower faster than you think you ever have, eager to spend the evening with Chan.

Once your most comfortable pajamas are on, you join him, plopping next to him on the couch.

“So, what’re we watching?”

“Scream?”

“Oh, yes! Both of them?”

“Sure.”

Chan starts the movie already in the VCR and passes you the bowl in his hands which you eagerly accept. As the movie goes on, you both start on your respective sides of the couch. It isn’t until you’re halfway through the first movie that you have half a mind to notice that your leg brushes against Chan’s each time you adjust. At first, you jump at the contact, and he seems to as well, both of you shifting away embarrassedly.

That only lasts for a small amount of time though, because by the end of the movie, you’re both close again and the bowl of popcorn you’ve been sharing is empty. After Chan gets up and puts in the second movie, he comes back to the couch and sits down, this time close enough that your thighs touch and neither of you moves.

You continue to stay close to one another as you watch the movie and eventually, you’re so close that you’re practically cuddling. You’re not, but you may as well. Seeing how at some point, you end up falling asleep with your head on Chan’s shoulder and his arm draped around your waist.

You only know this to be the case when you’re woken up sometime later, Hansol’s voice rousing you out of your sleep. When you open your eyes, the first thing you see is Ghostface staring down at you, causing you to scream, jolting into Chan’s lap and making the man jolt awake too. His eyes meet Ghostface standing in front of you both, also making him shriek and grasp onto you for protection.

Hansol lets out a chuckle, and lifts the mask, taking in the terror written on his roommates’ faces.

“It’s just me.”

“Jesus, Sol! You could’ve taken the damn mask off before you scared the shit out of us.”

You toss a pillow at him, hitting him in the gut, but he doesn't flinch.

“Nah this was more fun.” He dodges the second pillow that Chan tries to smack him with and says goodnight to you both as he sprints down the hall.

Once he’s gone, you both realize that you’re still partially in Chan’s lap and he still has an arm around you. You sit up quickly, sharing an awkward laugh with him as you get up, announcing that you’ll start to clean up. Chan helps and you tidy up the living room and cut the TV off, refolding the blanket you shared and saying goodnight before you go your separate ways to your rooms.

Your words are awkward, but neither of you can get over how warm and right it felt being so close. You tell yourself to forget it as you get into bed, reminding yourself that you can’t do that again.

Meanwhile, Chan can’t help but wonder if you’re thinking about him too, just like he’s thinking about you and the way you smell and how much he wants to hold you like that again one day.

He’s not sure if that’ll be a reality for him, but he can only hope so.

November is halfway over when you think that maybe you can finally, fully and unabashedly admit that you like Lee Chan. After Halloween night when you fell asleep together, you’ve only been spending more time with him and getting to know more about him. The problem is, the more you get to know Chan, the more you’re unable to ignore the rapidly growing crush on him.

You want to date him and have sex with him and kiss him. You want to hold his hand when you're grocery shopping or if you’re both in the same room. You want to hug him when you’re sitting next to each other on the couch or on the floor. You want to sleep in the same bed with him, cuddle against his chest, and wake up next to him the following morning.

You admit this to Jinah one day over lunch and she isn’t the least bit surprised. She’s stopped being so enthusiastic about you admitting your feelings for and to Chan, but you already know that’s what she wants to tell you to do whenever you talk about him or she sees you looking at him if you’re all in the same room.

It gets worse when you and Chan spend a day together decorating the apartment for Christmas. He helps you get the tree - a small plastic, realistic looking one since none of you want to deal with the work of a real one - decorate it, and hang up other decorations around the apartment. It all feels so incredibly domestic, similar to all of the cheesy rom coms you’ve had to watch on long flights around this time of year. Of course Hansol is there helping too, but he doesn’t seem to get in between the two of you when you stand too close or reach for the same ornaments.

Well, it’s more likely that he literally doesn’t even notice, but it’s still very cozy and special nonetheless.

Either way, Chan only continues to prove himself as the sweetest, most caring man you’ve ever been around and it’s only serving to stoke the fire that is your feelings for him. It was getting harder and harder to separate those feelings until you simply can’t deny them anymore.

You’re not alone in this want and desire. Every day that Chan has to see you and spend time with you, he only falls for you more. He thought his feelings were rough to grapple with when he was a kid, but this is different. Now that he’s spent so much time with you as adults, getting to know any and everything about you, it only cements his love for you into his heart.

This only makes things harder for him. He’s been trying to take Soonyoung’s advice and show more of the true him to you and he can’t tell if it’s working or not. You seem to enjoy being around him and he knows that at times he’s seen your eyes stray over his body. It’s not enough to make him brave enough to make any moves yet, but he thinks about it constantly. What if he’s reading the signals wrong? What if you’re just really nice and a good roommate and you don’t feel anything remotely romantic for him?

It’s that doubt and fear that has him keeping his mouth shut. Instead, he just constantly thinks about every part of you that he likes (which is everything, to be honest). He thinks about how pretty you are and how soft your skin is. He’s been lucky enough to accidentally knock into you or brush arms or thighs on occasion and every time he feels electricity throughout his body. He constantly thinks about how good you smell and how he can rank a list of all of his favorite outfits that you own. He thinks about your smile and your laugh and the way your expressions change when you experience different emotions.

Lee Chan is in love with you. Always has been and at this rate, probably always will be. He wants to be with you in every way possible. You’re always on his mind, but when he’s in bed, with only a single wall separating you both, he can’t help but think of other things that he likes about you.

Like how pretty your lips are when he sees you wrap them around a bottle or lick stray food from your fingers. Or how tempting your legs look when the heat in the apartment is a little too warm and you wear small sleep shorts. Or even the sound of your voice when you talk to him. He can imagine so easily how soft and breathy your voice could sound while you say his name if he was between your legs in either your bed or his.

Chan thinks about all of these things so much more when he wraps his hand around his aching cock and jerks off, wishing that it was your hand, or mouth, or pussy around him instead. He thinks about how much he’d love to watch you fall apart for him and only him.

When he cums all over himself with a whisper of your name on his lips, he starts to feel a little guilty for thinking of you like this but reminds himself that it’s just fantasies and he’s not acting on anything.

Little does he know that you want him to act on all of those things and more. He’s on your mind most nights too and you can’t help but slip your fingers between your legs. You think about his laugh and his wonderful smile and how high pitched his moans probably are and how stunning you know he’d look under you while you ride him. When your fingers are buried inside of yourself knuckle deep, you want so badly for it to be him and his fingers or his cock.

You have similar conflicting feelings after you fall apart, biting down on your lip to stop from crying his name. Guilt washes over you after the orgasm haze lifts and you scold yourself for thinking of him like this when you specifically tell yourself not to. That lasts for a bit until you remind yourself that it’s not like you can act on any of these fantasies so they’re better off as just that.

It's Thursday when snow starts to fall and cover the city of Seoul. You don’t mind too much. You can’t remember the last time you were in a place where you’d have the potential of a snowy Christmas, so you weren’t complaining too much.

Saturday is when the snow stops and sits on the ground like a fresh blanket. Your original plan is to lounge around the apartment and enjoy a day of nothing, the book you’ve been meaning to finish in hand when the phone rings. Your plans are rerouted when Hansol announces that you’re all going ice skating. Seungkwan and his partner want to go to the new outdoor skating rink that recently opened, but they want to invite all of you. You’re prepared to turn down the invitation because you’re cozy and you don’t even know how to skate, until Chan, who’s on the couch next to you playing his Game Boy, looks up and nods. He gives you a sidelong glance to see what your answer will be. The excited look on his face is enough for you to agree.

Half an hour later the three of you are in Hansol’s car and driving to the rink. Seungkwan and his partner are there when you arrive along with their other friend Seokmin who you recognize a little but from high school. Everyone eagerly lines up at the booth to get their rental skates and you lag behind. Chan notices and moves to stand next to you, asking if you’re okay.

“I’m fine I just, I don’t actually know how to skate.”

“Wait, really? Why didn’t you mention that earlier?”

You shrug, taking a step as the line moves. “I don’t know. Everyone seemed excited to come so I didn’t wanna ruin it.” That’s partially true. You also just wanted to spend time with him, but you keep that to yourself.

“Well don’t worry, I’ll help you.”

“Ah, you don’t have to-”

“Nope. I wasn’t asking! I’m telling you that I’ll help.” He gives you a wide smile that makes you melt just as fast as the snow piled under your feet.

When it’s finally your turn for your skates, you ask for your size and Chan insists on paying for your rental with his, ignoring how many times you object. He leads you both to a bench on the side of the rink and helps you lace up your skates. Once they’re on and secure, you adjust your scarf and gloves and wait for him to finish putting his on.

Chan stands first and offers you his gloved hand which you take without much thought. Slowly, he leads you to the entrance of the rink, letting you slowly step out as he skates backward. As soon as your foot makes contact with the ice you almost feel your balance give out, but Chan keeps a strong grip on your hands, helping keep you upright.

“I won’t let you fall. Promise.” He smiles at you again, this time soft and warm and the gesture feels like a comforting hug.

You and Chan do an entire lap around the rink, albeit slowly, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Hansol has already passed you both numerous times, as has Seungkwan, but Chan doesn’t pay them any mind. All of his attention is locked on you and only you.

You manage to do a few more laps, your legs feeling more confident each time. Chan keeps skating backwards with his hands on you, the two of you falling into conversation and laughing the more comfortable you get with him ferrying you around the ice.

Things are going well. Your time with him feels so incredibly right. He seems to be enjoying it too because at some point he shortens the gap between both of you and moves his hands from around yours to your forearms, your biceps, and eventually, his hands are around your waist and yours are draped over his shoulder. The closeness is not exactly normal for two roommates who are not romantically involved, but neither of you moves away.

Your cheeks, nose, and lips are so cold that eventually, you’re ready to call for a break, but then you notice how close Chan is and how red his lips are. He looks cold too and you wonder what will happen if you lean forward and close the already lessening gap.

Chan’s eyes flicker up from your feet to your eyes, and then your lips. You hold your breath in that moment and look between his lips and his eyes. Something between the two of you stirs and you swear you see him inching his face closer and closer.

Before you can finally kiss Chan like you’ve been daydreaming about for the past 2 and a half months, you shift on your left foot which proves to be a horrible idea. You’re falling backward faster than you and Chan can register. You attempt to put your hands back to break your fall which helps because you don’t fall on your ass but you do land on your left wrist with more force than you thought. A sharp, shooting pain runs from your wrist to your elbow making you yelp in pain.

“Y/n!” Chan drops to his knees to check on you and Hansol is at your side in seconds.

“I’m okay, I think I fucked up my wrist though.” They both help you up, each man on either side of you to get you off of the ice. They sit you on a bench and Chan takes off your skates, then his before sprinting to the bench you both started at that still has your boots.

The rest of your group joins you to check in and you notice a few other skaters looking in your direction. In between the pain in your wrist, you feel utter mortification at all of the attention and the way that you busted your ass in front of everyone. Especially given the fact that you swear that you were so close to kissing Chan.

When he comes back with your boots, Chan helps you stand up and announces that he and Hansol will take you to the hospital. You try to object, but they don't want to hear it.

So, you end your day sitting in the hospital getting a wrist brace put on. The doctor says it’s only a mild sprain and all you need to do is wear your brace and use your wrist as little as possible for at least two weeks and you should be just fine.

Even though Chan is in the room when the words “mild sprain” leave the doctor’s mouth, he still treats you as if you have two broken legs and a concussion. He insists on helping you out of the hospital and car and into the apartment. When you sit on the couch he makes sure to prop the throw pillows up under your arm to keep your wrist elevated.

“Chan, my arm won’t fall off.”

“I know, but the doctor recommended keeping it elevated, remember? Now are you hungry? I think we have some leftovers, or if you want me to go out and grab something I can.” He stares at you concerned, waiting for your next order.

Shaking your head you slide over on the couch and gesture to the cushion. “Chan, I promise I’m fine. All I need is for you to sit down and just relax. I ruined skating so try and enjoy the rest of your Saturday.”

“Hey, you didn’t ruin anything! It was an accident. I’m just happy you’re okay.” Chan’s hand lifts and hovers over your good hand sitting on the cushion between the two of you. It’s only for a second because he seems to rather quickly decide against it, letting his hand land in his lap.

He doesn’t think you notice, but you do and it stings, just a little.

Despite the awkwardness that lingers now and again between you and Chan over the next week, he still insists on taking care of you. He ignores your protests for the first two days, so you end up just giving in. You let him do any simple lifting around the apartment, even going as far as to carry your food for you at mealtimes. He’s already been doing a lot of small favors and nice things for you, but he does it even more as your wrist heals. It’s both overwhelming and the most flattering thing anyone has ever done for you.

It’s not helping your emotional battle with your feelings for him in the slightest, but you’re ready to give up and accept it. You’re not sure if he feels the same or not. He was the first to initiate what you truly thought was about to be a kiss at the skating rink, but since that failed spectacularly, you feel like he’s also pulling away a little bit. To you, your relationship has only deepened since you moved in and you two were becoming closer and closer. Now though, even though he practically waits on you hand and foot, he still does it in the most platonic way possible, if that’s even possible. So, feelings you harbor for him aside, you’re stuck holding them to yourself in a vice grip.

Working with your wrist sprained is annoying, to say the least. Your role involves computer and phone usage which isn’t impossible, it just makes you a little slower at doing your day to day since everything has to be done with one hand.

When you hit the middle of your second week in the brace, you feel like your wrist will heal closer to the two weeks. That means that if you’re lucky, you only have three days left to suffer in the brace. You wonder if that means things between you and Chan will continue to change even further, but do your best to fight the spiral you’re about to go on. You’re just happy work is done for the day and you can relax.

“Sol!” When you walk into the apartment it’s the first thing you yell out, waiting for your brother to answer.

“Yeah?”

“Did I get a package today?!” Your very first set of business cards that your boss ordered for you a few weeks ago were supposed to arrive today. Hansol stayed home due to a stomach bug, so he was responsible for getting the mail. It wasn’t anything particularly fun, but you were still excited for your own business cards nonetheless.

“That depends; did you pick up the medicine I asked you to get?” He calls back. You roll your eyes as you kick your shoes off and gently remove your crossbody bag.

“And what if I said I didn’t? What’re you gonna do? Hold my package for ransom in your room?”

“Maybe. Or I hid it somewhere in the apartment and now you have to play hide and seek for it.” He chuckles.

“Hansol Vernon Chwe, if you don’t give me my mail, I will literally take your Game Boy and shove it up my - oh.” Your threat to Hansol vanishes the second you turn the corner into the living room and see a man on your couch that you don’t know. A handsome man at that.

A very handsome man.

“What was that?” Your brother teases you, seeing the way you blink back wordlessly at his friend.

“Nothing, shut up. Here’s your medicine, nerd.” You snap out of it and toss the paper bag at your brother on the couch.

“Thanks. Your package is in your room on your desk.”

“Thanks,” you nod, your eyes shifting back to the man on the couch who’s just been smiling politely at you since you entered, chuckling at your sibling spat.

“This is Joshua, by the way.” Hansol finally says, gesturing to the man next to him. “Josh, this is my sister I told you about.”

“Yeah, I remember her. Hey, Y/n,” Joshua waves at you, his smile lowering but you still notice the way the corners of his lips quirk.

“You remember me?” You ask as you try and wrack your brain for any Joshuas from your past. “Oh! Joshua Hong?!” The minute you remember him, you’re even more shocked at how good looking he is. The once lanky, awkward looking transfer student that your brother befriended in his first year of high school even though Joshua is older than him, is now so much different. He’s filled out more, the t-shirt he’s wearing hugging his torso in the most distracting way possible. His jaw is defined, his hair longer and a soft shade of reddish-brown. He looks like a completely different person in your eyes.

What the fuck is going on with all of your brother’s friends? Why were they all suddenly so goddamn hot?!

“That’s me. It’s been a while, huh?”

“I mean yeah, try almost a decade?” You sit on the couch on the other side of Hansol to catch up. “What have you been up to?”

“Oh, nothing much. I’m finishing my last year of school. I’m getting my bachelor of medicine right now.”

“You’re going to be a doctor?!” You’re surprised, to say the least. From your memory, you can’t remember Joshua being interested in the medical field, but at the same time, you didn’t really know Joshua well enough to recall too much about him.

He lets out a sheepish laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah. I’ll be doing pediatrics. I didn’t anticipate that I’d get into pediatric medicine initially, it’s just what I fell into and I love it.” God, he’s incredibly fine and he’s going to be a doctor? You’ve completely forgotten what you were planning on doing when you get home.

The front door opens then, Chan arriving home from work too. When he comes into the living room he freezes, surprised at the third person on the couch.

“Shua hyung?”

“Hey, Chan!”

“What’re you doing here?”

“Ah, my apartment building is being exterminated and I need to be out for two days and Hansol is gracious enough to let me crash on your couch till it’s done.”

Chan nods, not minding too much until his eyes flicker to you. He immediately notices the way you look at Joshua. He looks at you enough to know most of your facial expressions and the way your eyes inspect Joshua makes it clear you’re looking at him in the complete opposite of a platonic way.

Chan feels something unpleasant stirring in the pit of his stomach that he can’t shake.

It turns out Joshua is much more than just a doctor-to-be with a pretty face the more you talk with him. It should’ve been a little more awkward getting to know him, but it really wasn’t. You have a lot in common and he’s incredibly interesting and charming. He’s easier to get along with than you had anticipated. The two of you end up spending time together while he’s staying over and he also insists on helping you when he can even though, as you remind all of the men in the house, it’s just a minor wrist sprain.

You are lucky that he’s studying medicine because he inspects your wrist while he’s staying with you and reaffirms what the doctor at the hospital said. It’s not that serious and you should be free by the end of the week. Joshua’s hands are so much bigger than yours and they’re so very warm. The way he cradles your injured wrist is delicate and he handles you like the smallest flower. His sweet gestures make you feel warm all over anytime he says something kind to you or helps you.

He’s only on your couch for two days, but it’s long enough that you’re drawn to him. It helps that he is probably one of the most gorgeous men you’ve ever seen, but his personality makes him almost too good to be true. Or you’re just incredibly desperate for someone to give you attention since it seems like Chan has taken a step back from being your nurse or growing closer to you. It hurts a bit, but having Joshua around feels nice and makes you feel a little more cared for.

When it’s the day that Joshua is supposed to be leaving, you both get back from work at the same time. You chat with him while he puts the pillowcase and blanket he used in the laundry and goes into the bathroom to make sure he’s packed all of his toiletries.

As you walk him to the door he thanks you again for letting him stay. Before he leaves though, he stops and takes a few seconds before turning back to you, surprising you.

“Hey, Y/n, I know this will seem completely out of nowhere, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but would you let me take you out sometime?”

You blink back at him, mouth opening into a surprised ‘o.’

“No pressure of course! And I won’t be upset if you say no. You’ve only really been getting to know me for two days, so I wouldn’t blame you at all if it’s a no.”

Even though Joshua seems like an absolute gentleman and has been nothing but nice to you, you still can’t help but pause. Your track record with dating has historically not been very good. Hell, even your last attempt at a hookup failed miserably. Plus, Joshua is another one of your brother’s friends. He’s only a couple of years younger than you, and sure, he doesn’t live with you, but you’d hate to be the reason that any of Hansol’s friendships get ruined.

“Joshua, you’re really sweet, but I’m Hansol’s older sister. I don’t know how he’d feel about that.”

“Okay, that’s a very fair hesitation, but if it helps, I asked Hansol this morning if I could ask you out and he said, and I quote, ‘Sure, whatever. Just make sure you don’t hurt her or I’ll tell Seungcheol.’” Joshua laughs, shrugging at you. You recognize that name as being Hansol’s oldest friend. You didn’t talk much when you were in school, but you remember him being mildly popular and feared by many.

You return his laugh and can’t help but wonder if Hansol would feel the same if you and Chan dated.

Shaking your head, you brush the thought away. One date can’t hurt - it’s not like Joshua is asking you to be his girlfriend. You and Chan are still in an odd place right now anyway. You’re not really sure how to gauge him right now, and he isn’t making any moves to change that. Sure you don’t know Joshua very well but that’s what dates are for right?

“Okay,” you finally say. “But after I get this stupid brace off. I will see my doctor tomorrow afternoon and I should get an all clear.”

The smile Joshua gives you is lethal and makes your palms sweaty. “Of course. After you take your brace off. I’d want you to be feeling completely better so you can enjoy yourself.” His words make your face heat up, suddenly feeling shy. “What do you say I pick you up tomorrow at six?”

“Sure, that works for me.”

“It’s a date then,” Joshua offers you one more look before he’s out the door and on his way.

Once he’s gone, you bring your hands to your cheeks, cursing yourself for getting so flustered around a guy you barely know, no matter how perfect he looks. To get your mind off of Joshua, you shower and get ready for the evening before deciding you’ll order a pizza and call Jinah to tell her about your date tomorrow.

“So how’s it going with Y/n?” Soonyoung asks Chan as they clean up and prepare to lock up the dance studio at the end of the day.

“It’s…going I guess.”

“I assume this means it’s going absolutely nowhere?” Chan narrows his eyes at Soonyoung, ignoring the way his friend laughs at him.

“It was going somewhere. And then I made her break her wrist and now everything is weird.”

“Oh yeah I remember you said that, but you also said that she was about to reciprocate when you almost kissed, was she not?”

“I mean, yeah I think so, but she’s also been flirting with Joshua since he got here and he’s definitely been flirting back. What if I’m wrong and she wasn’t actually going to kiss me back?”

Soonyoung lets out a sigh behind Chan, watching as his younger friend visibly agonizes over his thoughts and self-doubt.

“Chan, listen, I’m going to be honest with you okay?”

“Why am I worried…”

“Because I’m about to tell you the truth!” Soonyoung waits for Chan to lock the studio door and turns to look at him. “You need to decide what you want to do. Either you’ll keep doing this weird will-they-won’t-they with her and not tell her how you feel and probably stress over her for the rest of your life or you tell her and see what happens. I know you’re worried about what she’ll say or how she’ll react, but is that better or worse than letting this eat you up forever?”

Chan scoffs, both options are terrible and he hates them equally, but at the same time, he really has to decide. Either option makes him uncomfortable and unhappy, but Soonyoung has a point, he’s just not sure which is the lesser of the two evils.

“I don’t know…”

“Well, I think you should think about it again and figure it out. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with flirting unless she actually becomes his girlfriend or something, right?”

Chan mumbles something that even he finds unintelligible, but Soonyoung doesn’t press him to repeat himself. They walk the short distance to the parking lot on the side of the studio and bid each other goodbye, Soonyoung wishing him luck again.

Chan spends the entire drive home in silence, weighing the pros and cons of telling you how he feels versus not telling you. He’s had this internal battle with himself since you moved in and it’s always the same in each category.

You may hate him. He’ll make living with you awkward. He’ll fuck up his friendship with Hansol.

All the same negative scenarios play on repeat. The only pro (and the biggest, to be clear), would be that you feel the same for him or you’ll at least want to give him a chance. For Chan, it comes down to how much of a risk he wants to take here.

He’s not much of a risk taker usually, but he also can’t help but tell himself that you’re more than worth the risk. If he can get over his fear of the cons that is.

Chan is still deep in thought when he gets home. When he walks into the apartment, he can hear you talking in your room. The dock for the cordless phone sits empty on the side table next to the couch which tells him you’re using it.

He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, truly he doesn’t, but as he’s walking down the hall to his room, he overhears you mention Joshua’s name and the word ‘date.’ Chan freezes in his tracks, his heart beating rapidly at the implication. He knows he should go into his room and wait until you’re done to ask what the plan for dinner is.

Instead, he tiptoes to your room, the door ajar enough for him to listen without being seen.

“I’m not sure where he’s taking me. He didn’t say and I didn’t ask. I want to be surprised.” You chuckle and there’s a beat of silence as the person, who Chan assumes is Jinah, speaks. “I’m telling you, he looks so different now. Like, fuck I can’t even describe how good looking he is! And hello, he’s going to be a doctor!” More silence. “I mean, let’s not get crazy. We’re not eloping or anything, it’s just one date.” You stop talking before breaking out into a fit of laughter.

Chan takes this as his sign to slink away, trudging to his bedroom to wallow. He tries to remind himself that you don’t even know how he feels, he’s never even told you about his feelings, so what right does he have to be upset about this?

Absolutely none, logically speaking. That doesn’t make the twinge of pain in his chest feel any more bearable.

It’s ten minutes to six when you’re putting the finishing touches on your hair and fastening your jewelry. You called Joshua earlier in the day to let him know that your doctor gave you the okay to take off your brace and that your wrist is feeling much better. You also asked if you should wear anything special for tonight. He advised that you didn’t need anything fancy, just whatever makes you feel good and some comfortable shoes. To be safe, you were going with thermal leggings and a nice sweater to stay warm and comfy.

With your bag and boots in hand, you leave your room and head down the hallway, intending to wait in the living room. The apartment is quiet with Hansol out for the night and Chan presumably in his room. You haven’t seen him much since he got home from work last night. He took his pizza into his room to eat it and you only saw him briefly this morning when he was coming back from the gym. You want to ask him if he’s okay, but you can’t seem to get a moment with him to do so.

As you reach the end of the hallway, Chan rounds the corner suddenly and you both let out a yelp, running into each other.

“Shit, sorry!” Chan steadies you when your shoes and bag fall out of your hand along with the book that had been in his. He quickly bends down to pick up your things and gingerly hands them over to you.

“Thanks,” you smile at him, forcing your eyes up to his face and not down to the black tank top that hugs his torso.

“Of course,” Chan smiles back, neither of you moving. He’s blocking the entryway into the living room, you tell yourself, so he has to move first.

He doesn’t and instead looks above your head, chuckling nervously.

“Huh?” You look up and catch sight of the mistletoe hanging above your heads. Who the fuck even put that there?

The two of you look from the mistletoe to each other, and then back up again.

“You don’t have to,” Chan starts, his neck turning a deep shade of red.

“I - I mean you neither, if you don’t want to. But if you do, since you know it’s tradition or whatever, we can. Only if you want!” You’re stammering at this point, hand gripping the strap of your bag so hard your knuckles hurt.

Your mind goes back to the ice skating rink and the moment the two of you shared. Chan’s reaction now might just reaffirm your thoughts from that day, but you try not to get too emotionally attached as you wait for his next words.

He doesn’t say anything, and instead, he answers with his movements. He looks into your eyes, so intensely you feel yourself squirm under his gaze. He starts to lean forward then, his face coming closer and closer to yours.

There’s your answer.

Nothing comes from the moment though, when the doorbell rings, making both you and Chan spring apart with wide eyes. Clearing your throat, you apologize to Chan as you shuffle past him and into the living room.

“One minute!” You call out to the door, assuming it’s Joshua. You fish your compact out of your bag to give yourself one more once over before you rush to the door and sure enough, you see Joshua through the peephole.

“Hi. You look beautiful,” are the first words out of his mouth when he sees you, eyes sweeping over your frame appreciatively.

“Thank you. You look very handsome. And are those for me?” You gesture to the large bouquet in his hands and accept it when he holds it out to you.

“Thank you. And yes they are. I couldn’t just show up empty handed.” You thank him again and step back into the apartment to find somewhere to put your flowers. Chan is gone when you enter the living room again and you don’t see him as you find a vase in the kitchen and fill it with water, placing the bouquet in them before joining Joshua again and leaving with him.

Your date with Joshua is as normal as a date can get, but you don’t mind one bit. As he drives you to your destination, you fall into easy conversation as you ask him about his job. Right now, he’s working at his friend’s office until he’s done with school. Since he’s still getting his degree, he can’t legally do much medical wise, but he does volunteer at the hospital when he can to visit the kids and keep them company between surgeries and procedures.

He tells you stories from the hospital and you can tell just in the way he talks about the patients he’s spent time with that it’s something he really enjoys and is looking forward to doing full time. It’s admirable to see someone so in love with what they do and recall it in such a positive way. You know that when you recount stories from your time in the air and in different countries, it’s always with bittersweet words. There was so much you loved about being a flight attendant and so much you disliked, but Joshua talks about medicine with nothing but love.

Similar to how Chan speaks about dancing.

You push that thought away as soon as it conjures in your brain, refocusing back on your date.

Joshua takes you to a fancy looking Japanese restaurant and does everything right that you would expect. He makes sure to open your car door for you and the door of the restaurant. He pulls out your chair and tells you to order whatever you want, making it clear that he’ll be paying and brushing you off when you try to convince him to split the bill.

“Okay, Doctor Hong, you win. You’re more stubborn than me,” you joke after you both order.

He laughs, shrugging and making eye contact with you. “I asked you out, so I’ll pay. Simple as that. Maybe next time you can arrange the next date and you can pay.”

The idea of another date with Joshua hadn’t even crossed your mind. You’re comfortable with him and are enjoying talking with him and getting to know him more, but you feel like there’s something missing that you can’t quite put your finger on.

That feeling persists during dinner, even through the shared laughter and the jokes and it sticks when you’re back in the car after dessert. It lingers as you chat on the way to the second, secret destination he has on the itinerary.

When Joshua eventually parks on the curb of a neighborhood you don’t recognize, you see a bunch of other cars parked and can see bright lights in the distance.

“Where exactly are we?” You try to read street signs around but don’t recognize them. Joshua offers his hand as he opens your door and you hesitantly take it, letting him escort you out. He doesn’t let your hand go as you walk down the sidewalk and get closer to all of the lights.

“I know you’re really into Christmas and decorations so I wanted to take you here,” As you walk closer to the lights, you finally start to notice that they’re Christmas decorations. It’s a whole street of houses adorned with bright lights and flashy decorations. “There aren’t too many people who go all out with the decorations here, but I happened upon this street when I got lost once and they do this every year. It reminds me of the way people back home in L.A. decorate their houses for the holidays.”

You nod, eyes taking in a house with sparking blue and white lights wrapped around every inch of their house. “Yeah, whenever we had layovers or rest periods in the U.S. for the holidays it was nice to see all the decorations out there. It’s why I made Hansol and Chan decorate the apartment. It makes the holidays feel more fun for me.” You laugh, sticking the hand not in Joshua’s in your coat pocket. “I don’t know, maybe that’s silly.”

“It’s not,” he insists, squeezing your hand. “I think it’s very cute and sweet.” Looking over at him out of the corner of your eye, he smiles warmly at you. Joshua is so good at making you flustered it’s almost illegal.

You keep your hand in his as you walk down the sidewalk, pointing out different decorations and your favorite houses. There are other people around you taking in the decorations, all other couples from what you can see. There’s one house that you get to towards the end of the street that’s the most dramatic looking of all. Twinkling, multicolored lights cover the house and an army of snowmen litter the yard, all draped in winter clothes with lights on them as accessories. Various blow-up decorations dot the yard, one of them even playing instrumental versions of classic Christmas carols. Paired with the December snow on the ground, the yard resembles a true winter wonderland and for a moment, you just focus on that and not the fact that your brain keeps wanting you to imagine taking all of this in with Chan.

You’re so focused on the wonder in front of you that you don’t notice the way Joshua admires your profile, smiling at the way your eyes sparkle as you admire the lights and decorations. Joshua takes the moment, turning to you and placing his fingers under your chin to turn your head towards him. The gesture catches you off guard, as does the kiss he leans down to place on your lips.

Joshua’s lips are plush against yours and so incredibly soft. He almost doesn’t feel real. His lips move against yours and you reciprocate, but that earlier, nagging feeling you’ve had since the restaurant comes back. The insistence that something here is missing and it’s even louder now that Joshua is kissing you. It’s especially hard to enjoy kissing him when your mind only wants to focus on your second almost-kiss with Chan earlier. You yearn so badly to feel his lips on yours and daydream about if they feel as soft as they look. You also can’t help but wonder if kissing Chan would make you feel things like fireworks. That consideration alone makes you notice the severe lack of them now. Guilt occupies your mind along with your thoughts of Chan and you notice just how little you feel from kissing Joshua.

As if he feels it too, he pulls away slowly, eyes immediately scanning your face.

“Are you okay, Y/n?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“It’s just that, well I mean, you’ve seemed like your mind is only half here all night. I could feel it just now. Did I do something? I should’ve asked you before kissing you, I’m sorry.”

“No! No, Joshua it’s fine! You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise! You’re a great kisser anyway,” you mumble the last part, truly meaning it. Joshua chuckles and thanks you, but his expression gets serious again.

“I appreciate that and you are too, but I still feel like something is wrong.” He stares at you as if trying to read your mind and it makes you feel shy.

“It’s just…fuck, listen, Joshua, I have had a lot of fun tonight, okay? You’re easy to talk to and laugh with and I like hanging out with you, but I think maybe…there’s a spark between us that’s missing? I’m really sorry.” You gnaw on your bottom lip as you get your words out, worrying about how he’ll react.

Thankfully, he doesn’t make any indication that he’s upset at you. Instead, Joshua just nods and if anything, looks a little disappointed.

“Thank you for being honest with me. I’ve had a really fun time too. Even though I do genuinely like you, I’m not going to try and make you return my feelings. If you’re okay with it, I’d like to at least stay friends? I promise I can get over my crush.”

“Are you sure? I feel bad that I had you take me out like this and it was for nothing.”

“Hey, it wasn’t for nothing! I’m a little disappointed we can’t be more, but I still got to know you more. I mean it when I say let’s stay friends. It’s comfortable and nice hanging out with you. I promise I won’t make this weird. If you’re okay with it. Otherwise, when I take you home, I’ll drop you off and fuck off forever.”

You huff out a laugh, mostly in relief at how normal he’s taking your lack of interest. You study him for a moment, sincerity is easy to read in his expression.

Your shoulders relax as you nod, telling Joshua that you’ll gladly still be friends. This seems to put him at ease as well, letting out a sigh of relief. In your friendship travels, finding a dependable guy friend has been near impossible, so the idea of finally finding one means you can't just let the friendship slip away. You did genuinely enjoy spending time with him too.

You and Joshua finish the walk and any awkwardness you felt when the night started leaves now that the air is a bit clearer. Joshua doesn’t hold your hand, but he stays close and you appreciate that he genuinely meant he didn’t want you to feel weird around him.

After going around the block and taking a few selfies together (at Joshua’s request), you walk back to his car and he still holds the door open for you.

“What? Just because we’re friends this is still a date right?” He shoots you a smirk and you roll your eyes but laugh, nodding at his words. “Exactly. Now let’s get you home.”

Once back in the car, Joshua turns up the heat, both of you thawing as he starts the drive back to your apartment building.

At one point in your chatter as he takes you home, you compliment his gentlemanly behavior all night, telling him it’s honestly some of the most you’ve been wooed out of most other guys you’ve been with. Joshua frowns, citing how fucked up that is and how much guys fucking suck. You can’t help but laugh, noting that his level-headedness just adds to the fact that he’s the perfect guy for most women.

You voice this, adding: “If you’re still looking for someone special, my best friend just might fall in love with you if she meets you.” Joshua laughs, shooting you a brief look that you catch. “Yeah okay. I’ll tell her about you and let you know what she says.” You giggle.

“Sorry!” He winces, regretting his obvious expression. “Was that weird? Did I make it weird?”

“No, no! I don’t mind! I do think you’re a great guy and I love her and want her to be with a great guy. I don’t have a problem with you two going out. I’m just a little relieved to know you wanna talk to someone else so quickly. Makes me feel less bad about everything.”

“Hey, for real, don’t feel bad! I told you I’m going to be okay.”

“Ugh I know, I just feel bad because you paid for that fancy sushi and walked out in the cold and I’m curbing you.”

“Y/n, I’m not going to go home and write in my journal that you broke my heart. It was just a date, okay?”

Sighing, you finally accept his answer, deciding to let it drop, but still let him know you’re going to talk to Jinah about him.

“If you guys do go out and fall in love, try not to treat me like a third wheel, yeah?”

Chuckling, Joshua rolls his eyes at you as the car rolls to a stop at a red light. “She doesn’t even know my name yet, Y/n.”

“Yeah well, what I said still stands.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Mmhmm.” Joshua shakes his head at you and your triumphant sounding rebuttal. “Just make sure you don’t forget about your friends whenever you find someone.”

Frowning, you shake your head. “Oh, absolutely not. I’ve never even entertained abandoning my friends for a relationship. I’ll divide my time evenly between you guys and Ch-” Your lips clamp together like your mouth has been sewn shut, halting your words immediately.

Unfortunately, Joshua catches it, his eyebrows raising so high they almost disappear into his hairline. “Us and who?”

“No one.”

“That's obviously a lie. You were totally about to say someone’s name.”

“Huh? What makes you think that?”

You hit another red light and Joshua fixes you with a blank expression. “Really? You’re not gonna tell me?”

“Hey, this is still a date, remember?! What kind of date would I be if I talked about another guy?”

Joshua narrows his eyes once more before focusing back on the road as he accelerates and drops it, a suspicious look still on his face. You steer the conversation back to Joshua, getting him to tell you about his family back home a little more. He surely knows you’re deflecting but he doesn’t press you further.

The conversation leads you right to a parking spot in your complex near the building entrance. Joshua, ever the gentleman, opens your door for you and walks you inside.

When reaching the third floor, Joshua walks you to the door. He pulls you into a hug, saying again that he had a good time hanging out with you regardless of the outcome. He says that he’ll look forward to your call about Jinah and about hanging out again soon.

Things with Joshua may not have gone as intended, but you’re grateful that he’s understanding and not mad at the fact that you ended up not being interested.

“I will, promise. Get home safe!”

“I will. Have a good night.” He waves at you as he starts to go, but turns quickly to look at you with a glint in his eyes. “And good luck with Chan.” He caps his sentence off with a wink and the moment leaves you flabbergasted. Did he just say Chan?!

“I - what about Chan?!” You can only hope you don’t look as panicked as you feel. Joshua doesn’t address your question, or what he said as he gets to the elevator, offering you a final wave and laughing as the door closes.

How the hell did he know that’s who you were talking about? You’ve never done anything to make someone think you like Chan, but clearly the response lets you know that maybe you’re not as good at hiding your feelings as you thought you were. Has Chan noticed anything from you that would clue him in on your feelings for him being more than platonic? If so, you can only hope Hansol has been too… Hansol to notice it himself.

Chan’s lost count of how many times he’s paced the living room. He keeps trying to sit or do something else other than obsess over you, but nothing seems to be working. All he can think about is you out on a date, having fun, and developing feelings for someone other than him. He even called out of work tonight, telling Soonyoung he wasn’t feeling well. It wasn’t a complete lie.

Seeing the way Joshua just swept in after so long and snatched you up, just-like-that, legitimately made his head and stomach hurt. Chan knows for sure he is absolutely in love with you and the other almost-kiss he nearly shared with you proves it. He still didn’t recall where the mistletoe came from, but because of it, even if it wasn’t the proper result, he’s not exactly complaining. Well, not about the fact that you very clearly almost kissed him back.

He just feels like an idiot because he let you leave and is watching you slip away from him again and this time it’s to one of his friends. A friend that has more guts than him to step up and ask you out and tell you that he’s into you.

Chan hasn’t been brave enough to approach you and finally, finally try asking you out. The time when he was fourteen didn’t count because he was still a kid and you never saw him as anything other than your little brother’s annoying best friend that followed you around. Of course, you wouldn't have ever gone out with him.

But it’s different now. You’re both adults and you’re closer than that already. You seem to actually enjoy spending time with Chan and being around him for the first time in the entire time that he has known you and maybe, just maybe, he’d have a real chance with you.

His own cowardice stopped him from speaking up and allowed his older, much more confident hyung to do what he’s been too afraid to. It fucking sucked.

After you left, the only thing he’s done is stay up and stare at the TV, jealousy chipping away at him. Jealous that Joshua got to you before he could do it. Jealousy eats him up so much that he can’t feel relaxed no matter what he does. So, the only thing he thinks to do is sit up and wait for you.

As you enter the apartment, you expect the room to be dark, but you’re surprised to instead see Chan pacing around the living room with the TV playing a commercial.

When he turns upon hearing the door, you both freeze, his expression reading a deer in headlights.

“Y/n.”

“Chan?”

“Y/n, you’re here.”

“Yeah, I’m here. Are you okay?”

His eyes are wide as he watches you slip your shoes off.

“Y/n,” he rushes over to you, grabbing your hands when you step into the room. The gesture is the most contact you’ve had in a week and it lights up all of your senses. He guides you into the room, but the two of you stay standing. “I have some stuff I want to say, okay? It might sound weird and you might hate me and I might fuck up everything, but I’m going to explode if I keep this to myself anymore.”

“Okay…” Your hesitance is obvious, but you don’t walk away to take your hands out of his hold, so he takes this as a sign to continue.

“I, fuck I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to say it, but Y/n, the truth is that I’m still in love with you. It’s different from when I was a dumb kid. That was me being captivated by my best friend’s big sister who was so much cooler and more mature than me and was the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. When you left for college and your career, it hurt, but I told myself to get over it. That it was just my first crush and first crushes eventually go away.

And I thought that was true until you moved back and I realized, ‘oh shit, I’m still into her,’ only now it’s worse because I got to know you, like really know you, and realized that you’re still that intelligent, mature, amazing girl, but now you’re a woman and you’re still the woman of my dreams. I’ve been trying so hard to show you that I still care for you without actually saying it because I was worried that you’d turn me down and I didn’t know if I could handle that, but seeing you go out with Joshua and potentially slip away from me for good again has been killing me all night and I can’t hold back anymore.

If you don’t like me back that is completely okay! I know Joshua hyung is handsome and smart and he’s going to be a doctor so like whatever, yeah I get it. I won’t make living with you weird at all! I’ll even steer clear of certain areas when you’re around if that makes you feel better. Just, you know, whatever you want. But okay, I’m done. Too many words.”

Chan wants the floor to open up right at this moment and swallow him given the way you’re looking at him. Wide-eyed and mouth in a firm line as you absorb his words.

“Dammit, Chan!”

“What?! Sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry I suck I-”

“Huh? No! I didn’t mean it like that! I said that because, well, I think that you succeeded in showing me how much you care for me because I’ve fallen for you over the past three months.” Chan’s eyes widen almost comically, but he doesn’t say anything. “ I tried to fight it given one, you’re my brother’s best friend, two we live together, and three, you’re younger than me and four, I just didn’t want to make things weird with all of us living together, but knowing you like me just makes me want to stop being so cautious.”

“Really?”

“Really. Spending time with you and getting to know you has only made me like you more. Being around you, spending time with you, talking with you, everything just feels so right when we’re together. It’s scary because I have never felt like this, but I want it. I want you, Chan. In every sense of the word.”

The shell shocked man across from you has to let your words sit in his brain for a bit before he fully registers what you’ve said. You like him too. You’ve fallen for him. Being with him feels right. You want him.

If this is a cruel dream, Chan would really appreciate it if he could wake up right now. He closes his eyes tightly, counting to three before opening again. Sure enough, you’re still standing in front of him, looking at him with expectant eyes, anticipating his next words.

“Sorry, I’m just letting this all sink in. I don’t think I thought you’d actually say you feel the same.”

You shrug, shooting him a small smile. “Me neither honestly. I thought for sure you had gotten over your crush on me and moved on to actual women who returned your feelings.”

“Me too, at first I mean. But like I said, just seeing you again had all of those feelings rushing back to me.”

“Well I’m extremely lucky then it seems.”

“So am I.” You both stand there, grinning at each other, unsure what to do next. You think about maybe kissing Chan, finally, but you wonder if that’s too fast and too presumptuous of you.

As if he can read your mind, Chan clears his throat, making eye contact for a few seconds before looking away and taking a breath.

“Y/n, can I kiss you?” He blurts out, but you still hear him.

“Please do!” You answer immediately, encouraged by the knowledge that he wants the same as you.

Chan doesn’t need to be told twice, immediately rushing over to you before you have too much time to think. Your back hits the wall in an effort to keep your weak knees from giving out. When Chan stops, right in front of you, you’re almost chest to chest. He’s so close that you feel the warmth that radiates from him.

His arm rests above your head, keeping you trapped, but leaving his other arm down, allowing you a way out if you wanted. Neither of you speak for a moment, both blinking at the other. You each need to decide what will happen next.

You both make that decision at the exact same time. Chan’s eyes stay locked on yours as he lowers his face. At the same time, your eyes flutter closed as you crane your neck up, allowing your lips to meet somewhere in the middle.

Your lips are still a little cold, Chan notes as your arms reach out in the tiny space between the two of you, and grasp the front of his t-shirt to pull him close, his body pressing you completely against the wall. He squeezes his eyes closed hard enough to hurt a few times in an effort to wake himself up from the dream that he feels like he’s having. He’s had more dreams than he can count about kissing you for as long as he can remember, so surely this is another one of those?

That thought is only sent away when your arms slip up his body and around his neck, fingers weaving into the sensitive hairs on the back of his neck and tugging. The action is like lightning through his body and helps keep him in the very real moment.

Kissing Chan feels the way that you think they describe in movies. They always describe it as feeling like the world around you fades away in a haze and your head feels fuzzy. All of the sounds you hear are like white noise or turn into muffled background noise. It’s cliché and something you don’t think you’ve ever felt until this moment. Kissing Chan feels right and you don’t think you ever want to kiss anyone else for a long time, if ever again.

His strong arms wrap around your waist as you melt into him, your lips moving together in perfect sync. Your hands move down to his biceps to steady yourself, fingers wrapping around as much of him as you can, which isn’t much but you try.

You stay like that longer than you think you can count. Both of you clinging to one another, making out against the wall like lovestruck, horny teenagers, even if that’s exactly what you feel like. Your heart hammers against your chest and your thighs squeeze together as the kiss ignites not only something in your chest, but in your panties too.

The kiss turns from soft and sentimental to heated quicker than either of you are brave enough to admit, but you’re not complaining. You’ve wanted each other for months (years for Chan) and are finally getting what you’ve dreamt of. Chan’s thick, muscled thigh wedges its way between yours. Your leggings may have been thick enough to avoid the cold, but they aren’t thick enough to keep you away from feeling him brush against your tender folds.

What sounds like a whimper slips out of you and gets swept away by Chan’s tongue and into his mouth. He swallows down sound after sound as he makes sure to nudge your pussy again and again and soon enough, you’re grinding down on him, sloppily riding his thigh as his lips stay connected to yours.

When you finally pull away, the first sound out of your mouth is a deep moan. Chan flexes his thigh in a way that tenses the muscles and he hits your clothed clit in the most delicious way.

“Fuck,” Chan pants as he holds your hips. His knee rests between your legs and against the wall to stay steady. You grind over Chan’s sweatpants again and with each sweet sound that slips out of your mouth, he feels himself getting painfully harder.

“Ch-Chan,” you manage out.

“Hmm?”

“I need more.”

“More? More what, baby girl?”

The pet name rolls off his tongue so easily, too easily, and your pussy throbs even harder. Riding his thigh feels fucking amazing and you know you can cum just like this, but you don’t want to just yet. You’d much rather cum around his cock. The playful part of you also wants him to be just as needy as you.

“More of you. Please, baby,” You lean up to place kisses on his neck. When you get to his jawline, you flatten your tongue right on the side of his chin, dragging it up his jaw, and landing on his ear lobe. Chan makes the prettiest, breathy whines as you tease him and it only makes you clench even more. When you stop and your teeth nibble on the shell of his ear, capping it off with a whisper of, “Please Channie,” Chan feels like he could explode, right then and there.

“Anything. Fucking anything for you” Chan mumbles his words before diving down to lavish your neck in kisses of his own, the tip of his tongue darting out occasionally to lap at your skin. He leaves sloppy kisses on your skin as he descends down to your chest, stopping briefly where your nipples sit behind layers of clothes.

He drops to his knees as he goes and doesn’t stop until he reaches your waist.

“Chan?” You’re surprised that this is how he wants you first. You expected him to finger you before anything, but he clearly wants to start elsewhere.

His hands move to grasp at your waistband, stopping before he actually undresses you. His eyes meet yours, fingertips meeting your bare skin underneath your sweater.

“Can I? I need to get my mouth on you so badly.”

“Fuck, yes. You better,” you demand in response, not even flinching at his request. The two of you easily slip your leggings and your panties down and off of you in one go.

Chan lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, pushing your thighs apart. His eyes widen at the sight of you bare and wet in front of him. His mouth waters at the glistening arousal he sees coating your lower lips and he almost gets lightheaded at the heady scent of you. Chan could die right here before even tasting you and even that would be okay with him.

“Chan, please I need you!” You beg, feeling self conscious under his stare. He doesn’t make you wait any longer and instantly dives between your folds, his tongue lapping at you harshly.

Your knees nearly buckle at the suction, a loud cry ringing out. He doesn’t hesitate at all, his tongue immediately plunging into your wet hole. Your head hits the wall with a thunk as Chan begins eating you out as if his life depended on it. He fucks you with his tongue with obvious vigor, his nose bumping into your clit with each turn of his head.

His hands cup your ass, pulling you closer to his face so he can reach deeper in you, damn near making out with your cunt. Chan grunts and groans into you as he slurps, the wet sounds echoing through the room.

“Fuck, Chan. Fuck you’re t-too fucking good,” Your fingers are in his hair again, knotting into his strands to hold his face against you. The action makes him dizzy, his cock painfully hard and begging to be released from the confines of his sweatpants.

When you cum, which isn’t very long from when he started devouring you, you think you almost pass out. Your vision whites out and your body feels like gelatin, almost falling forward. Chan keeps his grip on your ass, not stopping until you start to yank him away from your pussy.

“I am going to pass out if you keep eating me out like that!”

“Fucking hell, Y/n, you have no fucking idea how long I’ve wanted to taste you,” he’s breathless when he speaks, licking his lips in the most obscene manner.

“Did I live up to your expectations?” You tease, getting wet all over again as you observe the way his face glistens with your juices and his blown out pupils.

“You have no idea. But we’re not done yet, beautiful.”

Another simple pet name has you shivering and Chan notices, and he loves the way you react to him. He stands upright again and grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together as he leads you to his bedroom. When he gets you in the room he brings you to his bed, pushing you and watching you bounce gently on his quilt. You start to undress what you had left on, keeping your eyes trained on him as you pull your sweater over your head and unhook your bra, tossing it somewhere in the room.

This is just like so many wet dreams he’s had, but this time it’s real life and almost too good to be true.

“You gonna just stand there and ogle me or are you going to get naked and come over here and kiss me?” You tease him, widening your legs to make room for him.

Chan’s eyes are glued to your pussy, still wet and shining for him, and he all but tears his clothes from his body and scrambles onto the bed without another thought.

“Sorry,” he says between kisses. “I was just admiring the goddess waiting for me on my bed,” You’re ready to tease him again, but he cuts you off when he lowers his head and his mouth suctions around one of your nipples, sucking hard enough to make your back bow off of the bed.

Eager lips lavish over the sensitive bud as his hand finds its way between your legs. He circles your entrance with a finger and repeats the motion a few more times before kissing his way over to your other nipple to give it the same amount of attention.

“So pretty,” he mumbles against your skin. Your fingers tangle in his dark hair as he covers your chest in bites, licks, and kisses, his finger still teasing you.

As if sensing you about to complain, he finally lets your nipple go, kissing his way down your body until he’s face to face with your pussy again.

“Chan…” you sigh, feeling his tongue dart out to lick a stripe from your entrance to your clit. He takes the time to spend extra attention on your nub, stiffening his tongue and flicking at it at what feels like an inhumane speed.

Chan relishes the gorgeous sound of your cries for him, noises of pleasure mixed in with huffs of his name and whispers of curse words. He loves that these sounds are all for him and because of him. He already knew he’d get addicted to you if he ever was able to get you into his bed and this settles that. He needs to hear you like this for him until he passes away. Even then, he wants to be buried with a recording of your moans and whines.

He shifts on his stomach to get closer to your core and plunges his tongue into you, groaning at the taste of you on his tongue again. The angle allows him room to grind against his quilt, pretending that it’s you he’s rutting against. His eyes slip closed as your thighs do the same around his head and he loses himself as he eats you out with a sense of excitement that he doesn’t think he’s ever felt about anything else.

Chan moves as if he didn’t do the same thing not even ten minutes ago and he only serves in pushing you so much closer to the edge faster than the first time. You call this out to him, tugging at his hair and it only spurs him on. He burrows between your legs even further, letting out more determined grunts that you feel throughout your entire body.

“Ch-Chan, fuck, I’m cumming! Right there, right there - I - fuck!” Your hands keep Chan trapped as you let go, legs spasming as he keeps at it, happily lapping up your release that covers his chin.

Out of breath, your body sags against the bed and you pry your legs open to let him up. “Shit, Chan enough. Come up here and fuck me already.”

“Yes ma’am.” His face is covered in you and his use of yes ma’am sends molten heat up your spine and between your legs again.

He leans over to his nightstand to fish out a condom, but you stop him, shaking your head.

“I’m on the pill, just pull out?”

Your words could’ve very well been a spell with the way they make him dizzy, but he doesn’t question it and only breathes out a yes and positions himself between your legs.

“Are you okay? Tell me to stop at any time and I will, okay?” He checks your face to make sure you’re comfortable and when he sees you nod he starts to ease himself into you slowly.

When his bulbous tip slips in first, you’re instantly letting out small mewls that only intensify with each inch that Chan fills you with.

“Oh my fuck, Y/n, you feel incredible. Shit!” Chan grits his teeth as he takes his time entering you. When he’s finally filled you up to the hilt, he has to take a second and take a deep breath. He’s never felt so close to cumming this quickly since he was in high school. It’s embarrassing to admit, but you truly feel like nothing and no one he’s ever felt. Your soft velvet walls cradle him perfectly, clenching every now and again making him even weaker.

“Move, Channie,” you breathe out, lifting your hips a little to get him going. Chan sits up on his knees, wrapping your legs around his waist as he grabs a hold of your hips.

He starts slow as he fucks you, finding a pace that works for him. Once he gets it, which he does rather quickly, he’s relentless. His hips drive into yours at breakneck speed, balls hitting your ass which each thrust forward.

“Fuck, Y/n, baby, you feel like a fucking dream!” His compliment comes out high pitched as he says it, the sound of his hips slapping against yours almost drowning out his words, but you hear him.

“Yeah, fuck, you feel so good Channie. Fucking me so, so good!” Tears collect at the corners of your eyes as Chan bullies into you over and over again, shoving you further up the bed. “You’re such a good boy for m-me, aren’t you?”

Chan’s eyes cross at your praise, biting his lip so hard he nearly draws blood just to keep himself from bursting inside of you at that moment. He nods like a madman, taking deep breaths to push back his orgasm. He’s so terribly close, but he refuses to cum without you.

He pants above you, eyes darting between your fucked out expression with your eyes rolling back and mouth hanging open, your tits that bounce with each force of his body, to between your legs as he catches sight of himself disappearing into your heat. He catches sight of the white ring of arousal you coat around his dick and he feels himself getting closer and closer.

He’s dizzy with lust for you but still manages to check in with you, forcing out coherent words to ask how you’re doing. You reassure him you’re okay, praising him once again about how good he feels.

“H-harder, Channie. Fuck me harder!”

As with anything else Chan does for you, he doesn’t need you to ask twice as he readjusts his knees before leaning forward to bend at the waist, making sure your legs are still secure around his waist. He leans down, his hands on either side of your head as kisses you, the new angle allowing him to thrust into you at a harder pace.

“Just like that, Chan! Fuck me like that!” Your words tumble out of you in a garbled mess, but he hears you loud and clear. The sensation of your nails digging into his back as you hold him closer sends him into a frenzy as he continues his brutal pace. His new position also allows his pelvis to brush against your clit hard enough to send you over the edge all the way.

“I’m - Y/n, I’m so close. I’m -”

“Me too, Channie, me too. Want you to cum. Wanna see you and hear you,” you cry out, each word almost cut off with a moan.

When you cum, your mouth forms an ‘o’ shape and your eyes squeeze shut, stars erupting behind your lids as your body almost convulses underneath him. Your muscles hurt with how hard your body stiffens and your brain only focuses on the drag of Chan’s cock against your hyper-sensitive walls.

The sight alone and your chant of Chan’s name has him cumming next. He pulls out, desperately jerking himself off over you before he panics.

“Wh-where can I?”

“Anywhere, baby! Anywhere you want,” As soon as the last word leaves your lips, Chan yells out your name, his warm seed spurting out and landing on your stomach, some of it even hitting right under your breasts as he milks himself over your body. If you weren’t so tired you’d suck him off to overstimulate him, but for now, you just admire how stunning Chan looks. Skin flushed and chiseled jaw clenched as he empties himself onto your sweaty body.

As he cums, Chan tears up a little because holy shit you’re the best feeling he’s ever felt, and being inside of you is like an out of body experience. He’s no virgin, but this is the first time he’s slept with someone who he has such a strong emotional connection with. It’s the best thing he’s ever experienced in his life, he thinks.

Once he’s released everything he possibly can, Chan rolls off of you and flops next to your spent body.

“Holy shit,” you mumble, taking a deep breath. “I think my soul has officially left the building.”

“Oh, I know mine is gone. It was gone the moment you let me kiss you.” Giggling, you glance over at Chan who’s already looking at you.

“I’ll always let you kiss me now. How can I not?” Chan grins wide enough at you that you think his mouth should probably hurt. The thought makes you breathe out a laugh.

Chan tilts his head at you. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. Just admiring how cute you are,” As if not expecting that answer, Chan gets a little shy, eyes looking away from you as you see the tips of his ears reddening. You can’t help but lean up and place a kiss on his ear and he jumps at the light peck. “Come on, cutie. Let’s get cleaned up and ready for bed. You can sleep in my room tonight and we’ll wash your sheets tomorrow. Sound good?”

Chan nods so aggressively, that you almost question how his neck is feeling. He reaches for his tissues on the side table and wipes the cooling cum from your body. He then helps you up from the bed and tosses you one of his towels, wrapping one around his waist.

When you have the towel covering yourself, you both step into the hallway only to freeze when seeing Hansol coming down the hall, and he stops too. He takes notice of the two of you, standing there holding towels over yourselves, and lets out a laugh. He takes his headphones off and lets them drape about his neck, the sound of “All the Small Things” filling the silence between the three of you.

“I take it the mistletoe worked?”

You and Chan share an incredulous look before turning back to your brother.

“You put the mistletoe up?!” You gasp. You had just accepted the fact that you put it up and forgot, but it’s nice to know you aren't going completely insane.

“Well, it was Soonyoung’s idea. He called earlier and told me to put it up somewhere both of you would end up. I wasn’t sure at first, but it looks like it worked.”

“I mean…kind of. But I have so many questions.”

“Ask them later. I’ve been home for a little while but didn’t wanna come into the hallway and uh, interrupt.” Hansol frowns and continues on to his room. Your brother halts his steps before going in and fixes you both with a look. “Oh, and I only have two things to say. One, Chan, if you hurt my sister I will kick your ass. And I’m telling Cheol hyung,” Chan lets out a small squeak and salutes Hansol, promising he’ll treat you like a queen. Hansol nods and then continues. “And two, can y’all like, I don’t know, leave a sock or something on your doors when you’re gonna do this? I came in and heard some noises I never want to hear my sister and best friend making ever again so just give me a chance to put my headphones on.”

“Ugh, sorry,” you grunt, your face heating up in mortification.

“Yeah, yeah whatever. Glad you guys can stop trying but failing not to flirt in front of me. Now goodnight and please keep it down for the night, I’m begging you.”

You and Chan promise your brother that you’ll be considerate and he thanks you before shuffling into his room for the night.

“He took that better than expected,” you observe as you and Chan move into the bathroom.

“Yeah. Honestly, I was expecting him either to be grossed out or do something very out of character and hit me or something.”

You snort, turning on the shower water and hanging up the towel you’ve been holding against your body. “Hansol hasn’t swung on anyone or anything since he was at least seven and that was at our old neighbor’s bird because it tried to land on his head.”

Chan cackles at the thought, but it’s quickly replaced with a low sigh as he watches you tuck your hair into a shower cap to keep it from getting wet. Watching you stand in front of him, naked and just existing comfortably makes both his heart beat out of his chest and his dick uncomfortably hard.

You at least can notice the latter, eyes playfully observing his length between his legs. “Someone has an impressive bounce back period.”

“I can’t help it. I have a beautiful, sexy woman standing naked in front of me. What do you want me to do?”

The bathroom isn’t that big so when you brush past Chan, it’s not hard to brush against him. Your thigh grazes his erection and he groans louder than intended, slapping his hand over his mouth when the sound comes out. You can’t help but giggle as you slip into the shower watching him still stand there and gawk at you.

“What you can do is, come join me in this shower and fuck me against this wall, but only if you can be way quieter than you just were.”

The sentence doesn’t even have a chance to finish completely before Chan is practically leaping into the shower, body crowding yours against the tile wall.

“Anything for you, Y/n.” He peppers your neck and shoulder with kisses, biting the skin as he goes.

“Mmm, you have got to stop saying that to me, Channie. You’ll spoil me.”

Chan pulls away, eyes meeting yours with the most serious expression you’ve seen from him since he confessed his feelings for you earlier this evening.

“Good. I want to spoil you and I will until I physically can’t anymore.” Chan rests his forehead against yours, taking a moment to enjoy being close to you as the shower water warms your skin.

“Only if you let me do the same to you, baby.” His eyes flutter at the pet name and you love the way it seems to make his skin flush more.

“Thank you, Y/n.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know, existing? Making me the luckiest man in the world? All of the above?” It’s your turn to get sheepish at his words, playfully pushing against his firm chest.

“Thank you, Chan. You treat me differently from so many other people I’ve been with and you make me feel special.” You hope he understands just how true your words are. The way he’s treated you since you moved in has been with nothing but care and affection, even before knowing he still likes you. Chan is a truly amazing guy and you consider yourself lucky that he wants you in his life like this.

“You are special and you should feel that way. I’ll make sure to keep doing it. And I’ll make sure you feel amazing and special in every way.” Warm hands slide down your body and slip between your legs to rub gentle circles against your clit. The whiplash from the tender moment to the not-so-tender startles you for only a moment before it’s replaced with want as Chan works you up.

Chan’s dancer hips are something to be studied and worshiped with the way in which he drills into you under the spray. You had teased him with being quiet, but you’re the one that needs to sink your teeth into the thick skin of his shoulder to stop from yelling his name.

He laughs between thrusts, but when you clench around him in retaliation, his pace falters and he pouts down at you. You kiss his pout away, keeping your lips together as you both cum, swallowing the possible noise complaints you’d have received otherwise.

Even if Hansol had lectured you both about your noise level, it’d be worth it, especially when you see the blissful look on Chan’s face as he gazes at you. Eyes full of wonder, tiredness, and above all else, love. Even though it hasn’t been long at all, you’ll be surprised if he can’t see the same shining back up at him.

Time seems to fly by, and Christmas suddenly creeps up on you. Thankfully, you finish your shopping before the last minute and get everything you need to, done. You and Chan spend the time leading up to it doing as many cute, coupley things that you can think of while Hansol does his best to not be a third wheel. He rarely ever is, but you’re thankful for the support from your brother nonetheless.

On Christmas morning, Chan is up first, already wide awake and looking at you when you open your eyes. It’s cute if not a little surprising at first. He at least lets you brush your teeth and make yourself decent before ushering you into the hallway. He knocks loudly on Hansol’s door as he passes, telling him it’s time for presents.

His excitement is incredibly endearing and it warms your heart to see him so eager to sit you down on the couch and present you with your first gift from under the Christmas tree. The first box is a small square, secured with a red sparkly ribbon. When you take the lid off, a CD looks back at you in a red, jewel tone case. You smile as you take it out and turn it over, seeing a note on the back along with the tracklist.

Songs for the only woman who’s ever owned my heart. Merry Christmas, Y/n. Love, Your Channie

Tears prick your eyes at the gesture. It’s a small gift, but it’s personal. You don’t think you’ve had anyone make you a mixtape and yet again, it just proves how sweet Lee Chan is.

“Thank you Channie,” you pucker your lips and he eagerly leans down to kiss you, almost tripping into your lap in the process. “Oh!” He jumps up, running back to the tree for another box, this one wrapped in white ribbons. Inside is another rectangle box, but in that is the gift.

“Chan?!”

“You like it?” He asks, taking the bracelet out of the box before you can answer. He gestures to your wrist and you present it, letting him clip the shiny, diamond tennis bracelet. “The sales lady said they’re really popular for the “special ladies in your life” this year and I thought you’d like it since you like pretty jewelry.” You give Chan a watery smile, stopping yourself again from nearly crying. Instead, you get up and pull him into a hug, squeezing his waist hard.

“I love it, thank you Chan,” When you pull away, it’s your turn to go to the tree to retrieve his gifts.

“But I’ve already gotten the greatest gift I’ve ever wanted in my life,” he gestures to you with a flourish, making you roll your eyes.

“Oh yeah? Guess that means I should return these presents then huh?” You dangle both boxes in the air, raising an eyebrow.

“I mean…you already bought them and wrapped them though so you may as well just…” he makes grabby hands at the boxes and you can’t help but laugh, handing over both gifts to him.

The first one he opens has a shiny silver watch in it that you saw in the mall with Jinah weeks ago and thought of him. It’s your turn to help him as you put it on his wrist, both of you admiring it. He mentions that it’s the nicest watch he’s ever owned and that he’ll never take it off.

When he gets to the other small box, he opens it to see an envelope sitting in the middle of the tissue paper. Curiously, Chan opens it pulling out what’s inside and he nearly passes out.

“Michael Jackson tickets?!”

“Yeah! I heard people at work talk about it like two months ago. He’s going to be in Seoul this summer! I was getting them for you whether we ended up together or not because I know how much you love him. You deserve it!” You beam at him and watch as tears well in his eyes this time. “Aw, Channie!”

Chan jumps from the couch to pull you into a bear hug at the same time that Hansol comes into the living room.

“Hyung, I have to tell you now, but I’m going to marry your sister,” he says in a serious tone.

“Chan!” Laughing, you squeeze his arms, trying to wriggle from his grasp.

“Fine as long as you still stick by my rules.”

“Hansol!” Both men purposely ignore you as they discuss your fictional wedding and Chan brags about his concert tickets. The whole moment fills you with an indescribable warmth, even when Chan finally releases you and lets you sit on the couch.

You didn’t anticipate that you’d end up here when you first thought about leaving your career, but you’re glad you did. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere else other than here on Christmas with your two favorite men.

“The ball is going to drop soon!” Seungkwan announces to your group. He turns the volume of the TV up as the countdown shows on the screen.

It’s New Year’s Eve and your large group of friends is huddled in Jinah’s living room to ring in the New Year. You hadn’t known where you’d be ringing in the year 2000 initially and had anticipated it’d be at home, but with Jinah and Joshua dating and being almost inseparable for the last two weeks, she found herself hanging around the rest of the guys as much as you have and since her apartment is the biggest, she had everyone come here.

You’re sitting next to Chan on her couch as you pull your drinks closer. Seungkwan and his partner sit together holding hands, nervously checking the clock on the wall and looking back at the TV. The two of them, Seokmin, and one of their other friends named Mingyu all found out about Y2K around the same time and have been preparing for it leading up to tonight. No matter how many times you, Hansol, and Joshua try to tell them you’ll all be fine, you let the group of conspiracy theorists have their beliefs, knowing once the new year rolls in, they’ll be fine.

Chan often makes fun of them, but you also never miss the way his eyes widen when they talk about the computers exploding and the world ending.

“Three…two…one, happy new year!” Everyone’s voices echo throughout the room as you count down to the new year together, noisemakers and cheers following.

Chan turns towards you, his lips meeting yours as you share your first kiss of the new year. His hands cradle your face, tilting your head back just the slightest to deepen the short yet sensual kiss.

“Happy New Year, Y/n.” He says against your lips.

“Happy New Year, Chan.”

Around the room, the rest of your friends are pouring more champagne and you catch sight of Seungkwan and his partner still sharing their New Year’s kiss, both smiling, likely in relief. Joshua and Jinah are on the other side of the room, her head resting on his shoulder as they watch the fireworks on TV. Chan redirects your attention back to him to kiss you once more, this one quicker yet just as sweet.

And just like that the world doesn’t end, much to Seokmin, Mingyu, Seungkwan’s (and Chan’s) relief, but your new world with Chan in it has just begun. You’re looking forward to what the new millennia and life with Chan will bring.

Net tags: @kflixnet @kbookshelf | Taglist: @aaniag

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honeybeedrabble · 9 months

Note

can i get a shikamaru x reader, where they are on a mission together to the sand village and perhaps only one bed 😈😈 (also include gaara if u can i love sand emos) - also only one tent and pillow wall

MDNI 18+

OMG. THIS !!!! mission sex? probably the hottest sex. at least for shinobi. something about shikamaru improperly using shadow paralysis while the Kazekage feels you up in his office 😳😳

CW: AFAB reader x shikamaru x gaara, somnophilia, mission sex, only one tent, only one sleeping bag, handjob, cum eating (?), eiffel tower, MFM threesome, improper use of shadow possession, pet names, unprotected piv (don’t be stupid), cream pie (don’t be stupid), oral (m receiving) lmk what else lol

September 22. It was September 22, Shikamaru’s 19th birthday and yet he was summoned by the Hokage for a mission. Sure, he could’ve just declined, everyone told him to anyways, but Shikamaru knew some things had to be done. And yeah, he complained the whole time that it was ‘a drag to work on his birthday’ but with his wallet running slimmer by the day, a low risk mission to the hidden sand didn’t seem like the worst idea for a couple ryō. He figured he’d throw a bigger belated birthday party after he got paid so to him it was whatever.

When he was summoned to the Hokages quarters and saw that he wouldn’t be alone, but instead paired up with you? Oh baby… it was a win-win for Shikamaru all around. The mission itself was easy, travel to the hidden sand, deliver a few scrolls and plant a few medicinal herbs native to konoha. Since the war has been passed for a few years, the allied nations don’t seem to have any animosity towards each other and the path ahead should be clear.

It didn’t take long for you two to head out, traveling west to the village. You hadn’t exactly come prepared, telling Shikamaru that you had already been assigned for this mission before he had so you had only packed one tent and one sleeping bag. Luckily you had enough hindsight to see you might have some food or water shortages, especially in the desert heat, and rations weren’t an issue.

When traveling, Shikamaru told you to lead the way so he could keep a better eye on you. But to be honest, he was just staring at your ass the whole time, watching your hips sway side to side after each step you took. It caught him off gaurd when you turned you head to speak to him.

“Hey, isn’t it your birthday?” you asked, ignoring the feeling you thought you caught him staring at your ass (you did).

“Yeah, why’d you ask?”

“I dunno, I guess never took you for the type to not celebrate your birthday.” You replied with a shrug. Shikamaru raised a brow.

“ What d’you mean?”

“Well I mean… going on a three day mission to the hidden sand and back doesn’t quite strike me as a celebration,” you said with a laugh. Shikamaru chuckled.

“I guess you’re right. It is a real drag having to do this but I need the money anyways. Besides, if I didn’t come you’d be out here all by yourself, who’d protect you then?” He smirked. You blushed, shrugging off your flustered reaction with an eye roll.

“Pft, maybe someone who brought their own sleeping bag,” you teased.

“Touché. But you have to admit, the company’s nice.”

“It is... Happy birthday, Shikamaru.”

“Thanks.”

______________________________________________

You two had somehow traveled a little ways past the halfway point, and you could tell by how late it was partnered with how tired you felt. After a long dinner of canned soup, protein bars, jerky and dried fruit you had pulled out the tent. Snapping each piece together with a small click each time. You threw the cover on and tucked in the corners, zipping the tents zippers in place before unzipping and crawling in. Once you were in you rolled out your sleeping bag.

“Do you want to share?” You asked, unzipping the zipper and opening up the bag. Shikamaru was slightly taken aback and shook his head.

“No it’s fine, s’my fault I didn’t pack a bag, I don’t want to inconvenience you.” He said, laying down on the grass. You cocked an eyebrow at him.

“It’s big enough for the both of us, trust me I’ve had to do this on a few missions before. Nothing I’m not used to.” You reassured, laying down inside. You motioned with your hands for him to come inside and he let out a small huff.

“Fine, but only cause you wore me down.” He said, trying to hide his excitement.

He crawled into the tent, immediately he could tell how much warmer it was with you. Shikamaru got in next to you and zipped the bag up behind him. He nestled closer to you and you flipped on your side facing away from him, and he settled in against your back in the snug sleeping bag.

“I’m sorry about your birthday,” you said, still facing away. His head sunk lower near yours.

“Don’t worry. It’s going a lot better than I thought it was,” he said low and sleepy.

You had fallen asleep pretty fast, he could tell because of the soft, steady breaths you took besides him. While you were happily sleeping, you didn’t anticipate occasionally grinding into him. The push of your ass was enough to keep Shikamaru awake, and he couldn’t help himself from sleepily grinding into you. When you stirred for a moment Shikamaru stilled immediately, his heart pounding out of his chest. When he heard your sleepy sighs and breaths he went back to his prior movements.

He continued to press himself against you, moving when you did. The curve of your ass hugging the outline of his dick euphorically. However, the pleasure was subsided by his need for sleep and his hips stopped meeting yours in an attempt to save energy. He realized most of the grinding was on his part and not yours, when he stopped you had. Slowly he drifted off, fighting the urge to not jerk himself off under your shared sleeping bag while you dreamt.

_______________________________________________

The second day you two had decided to take things easier and walk half of the time rather than run. While you were leading, Shikamarus gaze felt hungrier. Everytime you looked back, his eyes lingered on your ass far too long to be a coincidence. You had a feeling yesterday, but today had confirmed your suspicions.

“So, what are you planning on doing when you get home?” You asked him, turning your head to look at him. His eyes lingered on your ass for a few seconds shamelessly before snapping up and meeting yours.

“I’m going straight home, I’ve got something in mind,” he said, his lips curling into a small smirk. You were confused.

“What do you mean? Are you gonna have the party at your house?” You asked. Shikamaru let out a small laugh, his hand reaching down to adjust his crotch, his semi hard on making itself present.

“Sure, I guess I can call it a party. But it’s gonna be a party of just myself, unless you wanted to join me?” His eyes had gotten darker and filled with lust as they returned to your ass. You felt your face heat and you felt naked under Shikamarus gaze.

“Um… sure. We can have a small party before everyone gets there. You said you wanted it at your house?” You asked, trying desperately to get his attention. He looked up at your again, his hand adjusting his pants again.

“More specifically my bedroom,” he whispered coming up behind you. He brushed the back of his hand against your ass before passing you and taking the lead himself with you to follow.

____________________________________________________________

That night when sleeping with Shikamaru in the tent under your sleeping bag, Shikamaru was a mess. He spent 24 hours sexually frustrated, all while he was alone with you. He was a wreck and couldn't help himself to the cruve of your ass for a second night. He was sure you were alseep, but he didn't care if you werent.

He wrapped his arms around you, mercilessly grinding himself into your hips while you stirred underneath him. You couldn't fall back asleep with his movements and you were so turned on it was almost painful. You could feel yourself drenched with arousal as he abused your ass cheeks with his hard cock. You didn't know if you should pretend to be asleep or rock your hips into him and risk him stopping.

Shikamaru was animalistic, growling and whimpering into your ear as his arms flexed around your core, and you couldn't pretend for any longer. You smashed yourself into his groin, grinding pleasantly against his dick. An arm came out from its grip on your waist and gripped your wrist tightly. He unbuckled his pants with the other and brought your hand down to his boxers, where he palmed himself with your hand.

You couldn't help but gasp lightly, feeling how large he swelled under your touch. He hissed as your fingers traced the outline, then shoved his boxers aside for his dick to spring out. He guided your hand to his dick, where you reached out for his tip. He let out a shaky exhale as you smeared his precum around his angry tip, dragging the liquid arousal down his shaft and back up. He groaned in your ear, fucking your fist from behind as you lay at your side.

"Shit- you've got some soft hands." He let out between breaths, slowing his pace to feel every crease of your palm wrapped around his cock.

He picked up his pace, suddenly feeling too crazed with lust to savor your touch. He reached under you, pulling your other arm behind you to add to his pleasure. You whined, rubbing your thighs together sleepily for any friction you could get, the stitch of your pants working just enough to have you craving more. You closed your eyes, imagining how his cock looked soaking wet with his own precum as you jerked him off, his heavy, euphoric breaths mixing with the squelch of your grip on his shaft.

You pumped upwards, your thumb circling his drooly tip and he whined bucking himself into your finger.

"Ah- fuckkk. Do that again. Get as much as you can and slather it over my cock." he instructed, his voice straining. You did, dragging his precum and coating his shaft with the liquid. His breath hitched for a second, grapsing your hands from behind you and cupping them together in front of his tip.

"Fuck-Fuck-Fuck," He moaned heavily, grasping his dick and angrilly pumping it with his own hands. "Ngh- fuck. ahhh..." He spilled his thick ropes into your hands, the ribbons full and heavy. As soon as he finished cumming he dragged his dick into the cupped seed, fucking your hands one last time before putting himself away.

"Eat up," he smirked, whispering in your ear lazily. He fell asleep soon after and you wiped your hands off on your pants with your inner thigh. You licked a finger, tasting his cum and felt hornier than ever. You had to go to sleep that night without touching yourself, not wanting to get his leftover cum inside of you.

__________________________________________________________

The next morning morning neither of you spoke about the previous night. Shikamaru was internally cursing himself for being so unprofessional and letting his perversions get to him. You however, were craving more. You didn’t get to see him that night, how his eyebrows knotted and his eyes pinched shut as his mouth fell open letting out pleasurable moans while cumming several roles into your palms. You thought about it a lot and by the time you two reached the hidden sand you were soaking.

These scrolls were important and by no means was anyone allowed to open or read the contents inside. In order to prevent any curious eyes, you and Shikamaru were ordered to deliver them to the Kazekage himself. When you entered the building the Kazekag was sat at his desk, the room empty as he awaited your arrival.

“Ah, the hidden leaf shinobi. I take it that the journey was easy?” He asked.

“Yeah, the way over wasn’t too bad, Lord Gaara.” Shikamaru said, stepping in with you to follow, closing the door behind you.

“Thats a relief, I’m aware that your birthday was two days ago so I apologize for the abrupt mission. And please Shikamaru, no reason to be so formal with such an old friend.” Gaara said with a small smile. Shikamaru nodded. “And hello to you too,” Gaara said, switching the conversation towards you. You smile.

“Hello, Lord Gaara! It’s nice seeing you again. I wish it was under different circumstances though, with the journey back we’ll have to get on our way soon.” You sigh sadly.

“Now now, no need to rush. I haven’t seen you in a while, why don’t you sit down? I missed you.” Gaaras voice was lower, his eyes gently looking into yours. You felt hot suddenly, and definitely didn’t want to act weird around the Kazekage. You needed some air.

“Um, sure. Sorry, I’ll be back I just need some air.” You said, fanning yourself. You spun around and headed for the door when suddenly your body froze in place. You grunted trying to move your legs when you watched thick, black stripes make their way up your legs. Your eyes widened, turning you head behind you.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Shikamaru asked demandingly, his eyes narrowed looking at yours. Shadow paralysis. He walked up to you and turned you around, still stuck in his jutsu.

“What are you doing, Captain?” you whined, looking back at the men in front of you. Shikamaru wandered behind you, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your neck.

“Fuck- I’ve been thinking about this all mission. That handy you gave me last night isn’t nearly enough, I need you.” he breathed heavy into your skin. You felt your body shake, a vibration sent down your spine as Shikamaru nibbled gently on your delicate skin. You watched through half lidded eyes as Gaara approached you, his hands sliding between your shirt and vest and he slid the vest off- it hit the floor with a light thud.

“I haven’t seen you in months,” He whispered, grabbing your waist and rubbing small circles with his thumbs. “I almost forgot how you felt,” He added. Gaara grabbed the end of your shirt, pulling it over your head slowly and watching as your skin started to reveal itself under the lifted fabric. As he tossed the garment to the floor, Shikamaru was quick to undo your bra clasps, pushing the straps off your shoulders as the underwear landed on your shirt and vest on the ground.

“So beautiful,” Gaaras eyes were blown and dark, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into him. His head dipped down to your tits, popping a hardened nipple into his mouth and rolling it between his tongue. You couldn’t help but let out a soft breath, still unable to move the paralysis placed on you. You tried struggling with the jutsu, yet ultimately unable to undo yourself from Shikamarus power.

He grabbed your head and pulled it to the side, then pulled himself into your lips, crashing into you with a messy kiss. You moaned into his mouth, your cunt already wet with arousal as Gaara fondled your other fit in his hand. Shikamaru was able to silence your moans with his tongue as it lazily lapped at yours slowly and softly. He opened his mouth and a trail of spit connected you two together.

“Goddamn, you make me crazy. I ought to bend you over that desk and take you for myself.” Shikamaru said, grabbing a fistful of your ass. You whined, the feeling of his shadow around you tightening.

“Don’t be selfish. You can have her all you want back at the leaf, I don’t have that luxury,” Gaara said, popping your tit out of his mouth with a pop. “Ngh- I want to touch you… be inside you… taste you… I have to have you, beautiful. Right on my desk.” Gaara picked you up, Shikamarus shadow possession allowing you to wrap your legs around him.

He brought you to his desk, Shikamaru standing in front of it with you and Gaara behind. You felt the jutsu gently leave, allowing you to move better. You bent of the desk, Gaaras chest pressed against your back as his hands trailed down your stomach down to your core. He unbuttoned you pants from the back, grabbing the zipper and slowly pulling it down. He then lifted off of you and pulled your pants and panties off together. He whimpered softly as he watched your slick covered underwear fall down your thighs. You stepped out of your pants, naked and splayed out on the desk, shaking gently in arousal.

“I knew it, you were wet,” Gaara groaned, palming his erection through his pants. Shikamaru smirked, undoing his pants and sliding them half way down his thighs. You reached for his boxers, grabbing his waistband and freeing his hard cock. You whined in excitement, pleased by the sight of his hard dick already wet with precum.

Gaara thrusted his clothed dick into your wet cunt, you breathed deeply, tossing your head back to look back at him. He backed off just to undo his own pants, freeing his own sizable dick. You watched as he rubbed the head of his cock against your wet entrance and you both moan in need. He pushed slightly in, you moaned heavily as you felt him part you in half, his thick cock already nudging a spongy spot inside of you. He pushed the rest of his length in and bottomed out inside of you with a raspy groan.

Shikamaru was getting impatient, gliding his hand up and down his girthy length. He positioned his head at your opened mouth and you accepted his angry red tip with gratitude. He hisses in delight, his fingers digging into your hair as your slid him down your throat until he hit the back. You gagged around his length, then slowly released him, grabbing his dick and licking his tip to taste his salty precum, remembering what little you tasted last night.

“You look so beautiful with dick in your mouth. Ngh- feel so warm… so wet… Ahh, I can’t help myself.” Gaara huffed out, slowly sliding out of you before roughly thrusting himself into you again. You moaned around Shikamarus cock, slick running down your thighs as the momentum pushed you further down Shikamarus shaft. Shikamaru winced, his grip on your hair loosening.

“Sucking dick like a natural, I don’t even think I need to put in any work,” He smirked, resting his hand on the back of your head as Gaara stuffed you full of his rock-hard cock. He stuffed you roughly with a tight grip on your hips, you chocking on Shikamarus cock as he gasped in delight.

“Good girl,” Shikamaru praised, running a hand through your hair. You eyes watered as you looked up at him through your lashes, grabbing onto his thighs.

“So tight.. Oh fuuck you’re running down my thighs. Ahhh, beautiful girl, I’m going to miss this pussy,”Gaara grunted, pistoning you full with each snap of his hips. You drooled down Shikamarus cock, your jaw sore from his jolting thrusts inside you mouth. You tan your tongue up and down, tracing a vein that ran along his shaft as his precum continued to fill your mouth.

“Good girl, sucking me like a perfect cock whore. Shit… I’m almost there baby.” Shikamaru stifled, his hips gently thrusting into the back of your throat. You whined around his length, wishing that the pleasure would never end, regardless of your own high quickly approaching.

“Go ahead, love. Cum on this dick. I want to see you choke on his dick as you choke my cock,” Gaara lewdly growled, thirsting into you faster. Shikamaru groaned deeply as you moaned, the vibrations of your throat stimulating him in a new way as he came several ropes into your mouth. You tried swallowing each mouthful as you clenched around Gaaras cock, pulsing around him as warm, salty cum was poured down your throat.

“Fuuuck! Ahh- oh god… Your mouth is so good, you did so good.” Shikamaru praises, bending down to your level and holding your face in his hands as Gaara continues to sloppily fuck you. Shikamaru kissed you, sliding his tongue back into your mouth and tasting himself on your lips. You moan in his mouth still cumming around Gaara as his grip on your hips tighten.

“Ohhh… Yes! Almost, almost- I’m almost there. You’re s-so good,” Gaara breathed. “Cum with me,” Gaara said, hitting your spots just right. Your core aches as you came undone on his Kazekage desk, Shikamaru kissing you all over as Gaara pummeled you and then stilled, cumming deep inside of your pulsating cunt.

“Fuck! T-Thank you, Lord Gaara!” You cried into Shikamarus mouth, your legs shaking as the man behind you overstimulated you into a moaning puddle. Shikamaru planted one last kiss on your lips before he stood up and tucked himself away into his pants. Gaara lay ontop of you, occasionally pushing himself into you as he slowly softened until he pulled out, his cum spilling onto your naked thighs. He kissed the nape of you neck deeply, then stood up and pulled back up his boxers and pants.

You lie there fucked out and stupid, Shikamaru and Gaara exchanged scrolls while Shikamaru went digging through your bag for medicinal herbs that you brought with you.

“Excuse me, Shikamaru?” Gaara asked, completely ignoring the fact you were still naked and shuddering on his desk. Shikamaru raised an eyebrow.

“Yes?” He asked.

“I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday one last time,” Gaara smiled. Shikamaru stifled a laugh.

“Thanks, I think this might’ve been my best birthday so far.” He smirks, his gaze landing on you. You whimpered in embarrassment, still naked as the men in front of you softly embraced you in their stares.

#naruto #smut #shikamaru x you #shikamaru x reader #shikamaru nara #naruto shikamaru #shikamaru smut #gaara of the desert #gaara x reader #naruto gaara #kazekage gaara #gaara smut #naruto shippuden #naruto fic #naruto smut

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wosoimagines · 6 months

Text

Celebrations - Vivianne Miedema/Reader

prompt: Arsenal celebrates Viv finally making her return from her ACL injury.

warnings: none

words: 4587

(Y/N) POV

I grinned as I wrapped my arms around Viv’s waist as I picked her up to spin her around. Viv scoffed in my arms before I put her down. She shook her head at me as I only followed behind her.

“Come on, Viv! Be excited! You’re back!” I cheered. Viv only rolled her eyes. “Come on, darling. It’s been three hundred and eleven days. You’re allowed to get excited and celebrate coming back.”

“We’ll celebrate when I actually get subbed onto the pitch,” Viv said.

I shrugged at that. I knew that Viv had been nervous about coming back, but I had been there every step of the way to assure her that she was going to be okay. I had missed getting to play with Viv for so long now and I knew that Jonas was going to sub her on even if it was just for a few minutes.

I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t keep my excitement in. Katie was right there with me. Not that it surprised any of us since Katie was consider the president of Viv’s fan club.

Honestly, I was just really looking for when Viv would finally get to start again. I couldn’t wait to play with her in the starting eleven again.

“Schatje,” Viv called out. I paused my animated retelling of my most recent trip home to turn to Viv. I grinned when Viv motioned in front of her. “Come sit.”

I abandoned my storytelling as I made my way over to where Viv was before I felt her running her hands through my hair so that she could pull it up for me. It was a small thing we had started after Viv realized how nervous I got before games during my first season with Arsenal.

It wasn’t long before Katie came to sit in front of me so that the two of us could talk about how excited we were for our national team camps that would be coming up. Everyone would be flying out the next morning to get to their respective camps.

While I couldn’t wait to go home and see all my national teammates, I was a bit bummed out that Viv wouldn’t be able to come watch my games this time around as she would finally be back with the Dutch National Team. Viv had assured me that she would still make time to watch my matches though as I promised to watch hers as well.

“What are you most excited for, (Y/N)?”

“Tobin and Christen said they’d come out to catch the second game since it’s in San Diego,” I said with a grin.

It was no secret that Tobin and Christen had taken me under their wing when I joined the national team. My Arsenal teammates had been surprised though when I had finally convinced Tobin to join Arsenal and they had seen just how close the two of us were. But I hadn’t had much of a chance to see the two while preparing for the World Cup and helping Viv rehab, all the while both Tobin and Christen were dealing with their own injuries.

“You must miss them, huh?” Katie asked as she nudged my foot with her own. “All of your national teammates?”

My situation was a bit different from everyone else’s on the team, it seemed. Pretty much everyone else at Arsenal had someone from the same country as them on the team. Or they at least knew someone who was playing the WSL that they knew from their national team.

Lindsey was my closest teammate and even then, she was in France. Well, I guess that I did have Catarina Macario and Mia Fishel both were still so new to the team that I wasn’t that close to either of them. I was closer to Jessie Flemming than I was to either of them.

“Yeah, I really do miss them,” I nodded. I hadn’t been called up for our September friendlies after I had been publicly critical of Vlatko and the USSF for keeping him around for so long, but the federation knew that they would only be able to keep me off the team for a short amount of time before there was clear outcry to have me back. “Besides, Becky’s going to be back in camp, so we’ll finally get Captain America back on the field. Maybe we’ll get her to finally score too.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Katie said.

Viv pressed a kiss to the top of my head before she moved from where she was sitting. I let Katie help me up before the two of us had headed out to get lined up since we were both starting today.

While we were waiting in the tunnel I couldn’t help as I kept bouncing on my heels. This should be a good game for us after all. Plus, we had a celebration dinner planned for after the game for Viv’s return.

The second the whistle blew to start the match I knew that it was going to be a rough one. Not that it completely surprised me, Bristol hadn’t won a match yet this year and no one ever wanted to start the season off with four losses so they would try their hardest to stop that from happening. That meant targeting Alessia and staying on my back as well.

Honestly, it was a pretty smart tactic. Alessia’s temper could almost rival Katie’s and that was saying something. If they could draw Alessia into getting a yellow, or even a red, it would shift the game.

There was just one major detail that Bristol was forgetting.

We’ve got McCabe.

Katie scored a banger in the seventh minute giving us the advantage that we had all expected to have.

But it was just two minutes later that the advantage came crashing down.

I had made a run for the ball but struggled to get my balance as I had taken a small shove from one of the Bristol players that sent me crashing to the ground. I had heard the dreaded pop our recent ACL squad at Arsenal had described as I hit the ground. I was immediately clutching at my knee even as play continued around me.

Katie was the first one to realize that I was actually hurt as I hadn’t gotten up yet. She was quick to fight to get the ball back before kicking it out so that the play would stop. She was also the first one over to me.

“Please, tell me it’s your ankle,” Katie said as she knelt on the ground next to me. I clenched my teeth as I shook my head. “(Y/N), please tell me it’s something other than your knee.”

“I’d love to,” I said, causing Katie to let out a sigh of relief. It was always worrying, no matter what color jersey a player wore, when they went down because it seemed like a majority of injuries these days were ACL injuries. “But it’s definitely my knee.”

“Okay,” Katie nodded. I saw her briefly turn to signal for a sub so I could go off. “It’s gonna be okay. Maybe it isn’t that bad.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

I wasn’t surprised by our other teammates coming to check on me or how Kim also stayed close.

“Just a sprain, yeah?” Katie suggested. I glanced up to see that Kim didn’t look super confident in that possibility. “Or just a hyperextended knee? So long as you didn’t hear a pop there’s a chance it isn’t your ACL. Did you hear a pop?”

My eyes caught where Viv was standing on the sideline. I couldn’t let her stand there and worry about me. Not when we were supposed to celebrate her return.

The trainers were close enough to us that they were able to hear our conversation.

“I didn’t hear a pop or feel one,” I assured Katie. I knew that Irish woman would be angry with me when the news did come out because I was already certain that it was my ACL, but I refused to be the reason that Viv’s night was ruined. “I’m sure these guys will take good care of me and have me back on the field in no time.”

Katie nodded as the trainers moved next to me. Kim grabbed ahold of Katie’s arm to pull her up.

“Come on, Katie,” Kim softly coaxed the Irish woman. “(Y/N) will be all right. Let’s get out of the way and let the trainers do their thing.”

Katie hesitated but I smiled at her and nodded so she went with Kim while I let the trainers help roll me over. I brought my hand to cover up my mouth so that no one would be able to read my lips.

“It definitely popped,” I admitted behind my hand. The trainers froze at that because I had just told Katie that it didn’t. “Don’t tell the team. I don’t want to ruin Viv’s night with my own torn ACL.”

“You sure?”

“I heard it and felt it pop. It’s definitely torn.”

The trainers nodded before they moved to load me on the stretcher. I knew that it was something that had become precautionary with all the severe knee injuries so many players had been through recently.

They carried me off the field, but I let them stop so that Viv could check on me once we reached the tunnel, so it was a bit more private. I sent her a soft smile as she crouched so that she was at my height as she cupped my face.

“Your knee?” Viv asked.

“I doubt it’s that serious. It doesn’t feel that bad, I promise,” I assured her. I couldn’t help how the guilt gnawed at me as I said the words because I knew that she would be upset and worried when she did find out that my ACL was torn. “They’re just taking me out on the stretcher as a precaution. I’ll be back from the hospital for dinner. Right, guys?”

There was a course of yeses from the trainers.

Viv sighed as she nodded her head before pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“I’ll see you later, Schatje.”

“Hey,” I said as I reached out and grabbed a hold of her wrist when she went to walk away. I grinded my teeth together at the aching pain that came from my knee at the slight movement. Viv bit her lip at my reaction. “I’m going to fine, okay? Tonight’s about you. I know that Jonas is going to get you on the field, and I know that it isn’t going to be how we planned it with both of us being on the field, but, Viv, you deserve to be back out there. Enjoy that, yeah?”

Viv slowly nodded her head, and I gave her one last small smile before I kissed the back of her hand and let her go.

“No one tells Jonas until after the team has gone out,” I said once Viv was out of hearing range.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You okay, kid?”

“I’m fine.”

Becky had been the first to call me. I had seen all the texts that my national teammates had sent me, but Becky was the one I had answered first. I was hesitant to text Tobin or Christen back. I knew that they would call me as soon as they knew I was out of the hospital, but I didn’t know how long I would last talking with them on the phone before I broke down.

Tobin and Christen weren’t just my team moms. They were my safety net. They had been the ones I went to when my anxiety about playing started to get to me. They were the ones who had convinced me to finally ask Viv out and they had been there through the hardest times in my life. But this was one of the worst setbacks I had, and it was at the worst time with the Olympics only nine months away.

I didn’t even know how long I would make it before asking Tobin and Christen to fly over to help me out while Viv was away at camp. I knew that they would do it too, but I couldn’t help but feel guilty for even thinking about asking them when they both had so much on their own plates already.

“How bad is it?”

I froze at the question. I, logically, knew that Becky would be the one they’d have call me to get information about my injury since she was our team captain, and we were in between coaches at the moment.

“My ACL is torn,” I admitted. I ran a hand over my face as I stayed in the car that was sitting outside the restaurant. Kim had stuck around to wait for me to get back to London Coloney with a couple of trainers. I had assured her that I was fine and that I just had to call Becky to give her an update so she could tell our national team. “I don’t even know what I’m going to do about surgery. Viv’s supposed to head to her own national camp tomorrow. But the longer I put it off, the longer I’ll have no idea what my timetable to return would look like.”

“Okay, you talk it over with Viv and get a gameplan with the medical staff at Arsenal and keep me updated.”

I knew that would be the next step. I sighed as I looked at the restaurant entrance. I wasn’t going to ruin Viv’s celebration so our talk would have to wait until after dinner. It really was unfortunate that we had to have such a quick turnaround between our game tonight and the national camps that everyone was leaving for tomorrow.

“Hey, Becky?” I called out before she could hang up the phone. “I know the federation wants you to report back to them tonight, but do you think it can wait until tomorrow?”

“Kid, they need to know as soon as possible.”

“I know, but it was Viv’s first game back from her ACL. I didn’t let her know how bad it was when they took me off. I didn’t tell her that I heard the pop,” I explained. Viv deserved to be able to celebrate this without having to worry about me. “I just want her to be able to celebrate finally getting back on the field for a game. I’m going to tell her tonight, but I want to be the one to do it. Not the team breaking the news.”

“Okay, but I call them at eight o’clock tonight,” Becky relented. I nodded in relief even though she couldn’t see me. “That’s like four hours. So, you make sure you tell her before then.”

“I will. I promise.”

We wrapped up our conversation as I made her promise to let the rest of the girls know that I missed all of them and I was upset that I wouldn’t be there to see them but that I trusted that they would win without me.

I took a moment to compose myself before I grabbed the crutches from the back of the car to head into the restaurant. I was slower to get back to the private room where the others already were. I could see the worry in my teammates faces when they saw the crutches. But my eyes met with Viv’s as I ignored our teammates.

Viv’s eyes darted down to the knee that I had hurt as she immediately started to fidget with the rings on her fingers. I started to make my way toward her before I took a seat next to her. Once I had the crutches leaned against the wall that was behind us, I grabbed ahold of her hand.

“It’s fine. Just hyperextended,” I assured her. Viv’s shoulders dropped in relief. “Doc said to get rest and the trainers will reevaluate next week to see how it’s looking. I’ll be back on the field in no time. I promise.”

Viv smiled at that as she gave my hand a tight squeeze. The guilt hit me hard as I watched the worry disappear from Viv’s eyes. I knew it was cruel to give her this false hope, but I didn’t want to ruin this for her.

“Great! That means you’ll be back with us in no time!” Katie cheered. I shook my head as Viv and I both turned to look at her. “Just too bad you won’t be going to national camp now.”

I rolled my eyes. I didn’t need to think about that right now. Especially because it still hadn’t really hit just yet that I was going to be missing out on seeing some of my best friends for the second camp in a row.

“Just wait, McCabe. Once Beth, Viv, and I all get back on the field, it’ll be your spot that I take, and you’ll be the one riding the bench.”

Katie gasped at that before she pretended that I had actually hurt her. I couldn’t help but smile as Viv laughed at Katie.

As our night moved along, I found myself forgetting about the injury I had just sustained and instead lost myself in the celebration. It wasn’t even anything big we did for Viv. We didn’t even focus too much attention on her, but Viv honestly did love being around the rest of the team.

While she hadn’t been completely separated from the team during her injury and rehab, she had missed getting to spend as much time as she was used to with the rest of the team. I had also been careful to limit how much either of us committed to team bonding nights, especially when it was game nights knowing that as much as she pretended to hate the games, Viv was one of the most competitive people I knew, and she would have been upset by the number of games she couldn’t join in.

It was nice to see her enjoying herself with the rest of the team.

Aside from being the newest one on the team to be injured, today was amazing. Even as dinner was winding down and some of our teammates started to make their leave. Katie assuring both Viv and I that she was covering our meals tonight as the president of Viv’s fan club.

Of course, we could only go for so long though before something had to go wrong when our squad was around.

I hadn’t even been paying attention to the Aussies who were messing around next to the table that Viv and I were still sitting at as we both quietly talked to each other. I knew that the two of us would be making our leave soon as Viv was obviously worn out from the day.

I moved to slide out of my seat, but that proved to be the wrong thing to do because as soon as I had turned so that I could maneuver my way to my feet, Kyra had taken off to get away from Caitlin who was trying to chase her. Which meant that both of them collided with my recently injured knee.

I gasped as I tried to hold back the tears while I turned back in my seat to keep it from being ran into again. I was very away of how all of the attention had been turned to me.

The aching pain that I had been able to ignore all night was back and it was ten times worse now. It was so bad that I couldn’t even process the apologies coming from Kyra and Caitlin. Viv was quick to move around the table so that she could be on the side I was trying to get out from as she waited for the pain to subside.

“Did they give you anything for the pain?” Viv asked.

I shook my head before I fished out the prescription from my jacket pocket.

“I have a prescription, but I’ll have to get it from the pharmacy tomorrow.”

Viv took the prescription from me. I was also a bit surprised to find that she had shooed the others away so that we were in the room by ourselves.

“Why would they give you a prescription if you just hyperextended your knee?”

I sighed at the question. I really didn’t want to do this here. I would do it at home, but not here where anyone could hear us.

“(Y/N), they wouldn’t give this to you if you hyperextended your knee. Especially not a prescription for this much,” Viv pointed out. I knew that she had figured it out. Viv looked up at me as I felt my shoulder slump forward. I was already over this injury, and I had only had it for about five hours. “Why would they write you a prescription?”

“Not here, Viv.”

“Yes, here.”

“No. I’m not doing this here,” I said. Viv scoffed as she looked away from me. “We can talk about it as soon as we get home where it’ll be a private talk, but I’m not going to do this in public.”

Viv huffed as she stayed crouched in front of me for a moment before helping me up and situated with my crutches. Our walk outside was a silent one until we actually reached outside. Once we were outside, I found myself saying goodbye to our teammates and assuring both Kyra and Caitlin that I would be fine.

Viv stayed by my side as we made our way to the car. She even helped me get into the car. Something that we had mastered when she tore ACL, but it was a little awkward now. Both of us were used to doing the other’s role.

Viv stayed silent the whole ride back to our apartment. This morning’s playlist to get us both excited about the match we had today was the only thing keeping us from complete silence inside the car.

Even when we got home, Viv stayed quiet. She had gotten both of our bags out without a sound and followed me into the building. Her watching me struggle with the door for a moment before she held it open all the way so that I could get in without having to worry if the door was going to close on me or not. She stayed behind me as we made our way into the building.

I wasn’t sure if she refused to move in front of me just so she wouldn’t have to face me or if it was just because she was afraid that I’d fall and she thought she had a better chance at catching me if she was behind me.

Our trip from the elevator to our apartment took longer than normal as I was getting used to the crutches and couldn’t move as fast as Viv had eventually been able to. But once we were inside of our apartment, I moved to sit on the couch. I was fully prepared to sleep on the couch as well if she was mad enough at me. After all she was the one that would be going to a national camp tomorrow, so she’d need a better rest than me.

“I was going to tell you,” I assured her as she took a seat on the couch once our bags were put up. “I promise I was.”

“And did you plan on telling me before or after I left for camp?”

“I’m not a complete asshole, Viv. I was going to tell you as soon as we got home. But I knew what tonight meant for you. Three hundred and eleven days and you finally got back on the field. You deserved to celebrate with your friends. I wasn’t just going to let you skip that to baby me when I’m fine.”

“You tore your ACL! I don’t think you get what that’s like! Take it from some‒”

“I know! I know,” I cut her off. I couldn’t stop the tears that were threatening to fall as it was all finally catching up to me. “I’ll be out for at least six months, but it will more than likely be closer to nine before I can get on the field again. I’ll probably miss the Olympics because if it takes me nine months to come back then there’s no way I’ll be in form to go to the Olympics. And I’ll probably have more bad days than good ones.”

“When are you having surgery?”

“I don’t know, Viv. It just happened tonight. I’ll probably go talk to the team medics and a doctor tomorrow to figure out a plan.”

“I’ll call Jonker and let him know that I won’t be at camp.”

“No. No!” I moved forward to snatch her phone away from her. Viv tried to reach for it, but I moved back as far as I could. “You’re not doing that! You’re going to camp. I’m not letting you ruin everything you’ve worked for because of me.”

“You were there for me! Why can’t I be there for you?”

“I’m not saying that you can’t be. But you’re not putting your own career on hold because I have to have a surgery.”

“Then what about while I’m gone? It a lot harder to take care of yourself when you’re on crutches than you think.”

I sighed as I pinched the bridge of my nose. We were getting nowhere with this.

“Beth and Leah and Laura are all still going to be here. None of them were called up,” I pointed out. I hadn’t really thought about asking any of them if they’d be okay to help me out. “I can always ask them to help me. I’m sure that Tobin or Christen wouldn’t mind flying over to help me out for a couple of days.”

“I want to be able to take care of you like you took care of me,” Viv admitted as she moved closer to me. I sighed as I threaded a hand in her hair. “It’s scary and I would have never gotten through my own injury without you. I want us to be able to play together again and that means that you’ve got to get through this, but it’s hard and so emotionally draining.”

“And you are the one that’s going to get me through it,” I said. Viv perked up a little at that. “But I’m not going to let you sacrifice your own career because of mine. Especially not when you just got yours back. So, you’re going to camp.”

“But what about your surgery?”

I sighed as I moved my hand to play with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck. It knew that Viv always calmed down when I did that.

“I’ll wait to schedule it until you’re back from camp. And I’ll make sure that it won’t clash with the Manchester City game,” I assured Viv. Viv sighed before nodding in agreement. “Besides, between the girls who weren’t called up and our medical team, I’ll be well taken care of while you’re gone. And I’ll be sure to talk to you every day.”

“And if it ever feels like you’re drowning, you’ll tell me so that I can be there to pull you up like you did for me, right?”

“Right.”

#viviannne miedema x reader #vivianne miedema imagines #vivianne miedema imagine #vivianne miedema #arsenal wfc imagine #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc imagines #arsenal wfc #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #uswnt imagine #uswnt #arsenal x reader #arsenal imagines #arsenal imagine #arsenal

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nickfowlerrr · 7 months

Text

can you feel it?

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader (soulmate au)

warnings: really nothing but fluff. mentions of light baking burns. lmk if something needs to be tagged.

words: 2.3k

notes: this is my entry for @lunarbuck’s soulmate challenge. i used the prompt: you cannot feel pain until you meet your soulmate.🩵 and thank you to @dreamlandcreations for beta reading/editing my first draft!

Mmm, you hummed mindlessly.

The sweet, warm aroma of your latest batch of pumpkin chocolate chip cookies swirled through your small bakery, filling your nose and eliciting a smile from you as you walked to the back counter, setting down the hot tray you were holding.

You slid off the oven mit you wore and tossed it carelessly before you spun around to get the last tray of dough in the oven.

Your fingers brushed the hot grate of the oven as you slipped the tray in, and though you couldn’t feel the pain or burn of it, you still mentally chided yourself for not being more careful.

It was mid-September, that time of year when summer was still the season, but fall was all around.

You had been messing with some seasonal recipes for the past few days and had most of your impending fall lineup set. You were going to start slow with the roll out, and today was the first day you’d have these cookies out in the display.

You were a bit overly excited, but you hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that today would be a great day since you’d gotten up. Even Nickie calling to let you know she’d be late for her shift hadn’t dampened your mood.

You sipped from the straw of your cold brew, floating aimlessly around the quaint space while you were waiting for the cookies to cool, the oven to go off, or a customer to walk in. You’d swept the floor and cleaned the counters and tables a good three times now despite their already pristine state. It was a slow day, but you knew not to expect many people until after noon.

You eventually found yourself staring out the large glass window at the front of the shop, looking out onto the picturesque town street, watching the few passersby and the leaves that were blowing around; the branches of the trees that lined the streets swaying gently in the late summer breeze.

You weren’t sure why, but as you stood there gazing out the window, you suddenly found yourself growing eager, a sense of excitement coming over you. You felt like you were waiting for something…someone.

Just as the feelings were put into words in your mind, the ringing of the entrance bell sounded and pulled you from your thoughts. You tutted quietly at yourself before you turned and went to greet whoever it was.

You stopped short on your hello when you saw Nickie pulling off her cardigan.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” you said with a teasing smirk and a raised brow.

Nicki smiled guiltily, “Sorry,” she offered through a nervous titter, “Eli’s alarm didn’t go off, so we were both scrambling this morning.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you brushed off her apology, “it’s been pretty quiet so far.”

“It smells amazing in here, did you make the pumpkin cookies?”

“Last batch is in the oven right now,” you nodded with a grin. “There’s some in the display case already, grab one, tell me what you think,” you said, walking over to meet her behind the counter.

You grasped your hands together while you leaned against the side of the register, anxious to get her thoughts.

Nickie grabbed a cookie and just as she was about to take a bite, the bell on the door rang again. You turned, smiling to offer your usual, “Hello, welcome in!”, but your voice caught in your throat when you did, only managing out a half hello.

Your eyes met steel blue as the man who had just entered stalled in his path for a brief second. He blinked then and seemed to correct his posture, clearing his throat, eyes never leaving yours, “Hi,” he offered.

“Welcome in,” you breathed, voice much quieter than you intended it to be.

You couldn't seem to take your eyes off of him as he approached the counter. He was tall, well built with dark hair, and god, those eyes. You could swim in them, they were so blue. He looked effortlessly cool, wearing a dark canvas jacket with the collar popped ever so slightly over a plain charcoal henley, his black jeans and boots completing the outfit as a chain of silver showed a bit from above his shirt collar. The dark color scheme worked well for the weather and for his features. The blue of his eyes even more emphasized by the color of his clothing. His jaw was square and sharp, and the structure of his cheekbones brought attention to the bags under his eyes. But they, along with his five o’clock shadow, only added to his aesthetic. You wondered if he knew that, if he was aware. You’d seen many a man who wore the same style, but it was so clearly put on. This seemed to be very him. Not that you knew him, of course, but still it was evident.

It occurred to you though, as cool as he seemed, there was the tiniest bit of pink coloring his cheeks as he slyly rubbed his neck, before he finally stood before you, that betrayed his air of cool.

Nickie looked between the two of you with a quirked brow as you began taking the man’s order.

Your fingers twiddled over the screen in your nervousness while he looked over the menu, musing aloud before he moved to walk the display case.

“What’s your favorite?” he asked, a wave of self assurance growing over him as he casually shoved his hands in his pockets, turning to watch you as you forced your own hands to still before standing up a bit straighter at the question. It was innocent enough, despite the smoothness of his words and the smile that played on the corner of his lips as he recognized your fidgeting for what it is - your own nerves bounding around you.

“Oh, um,” you took a breath, thinking for a second, “I’m pretty partial to the classics, actually,” you said with a small smile, moving down a bit to be closer to where he stood, a bit of your own self assurance coming over you in turn. “The pink sugar cookie and the chocolate chip are probably the biggest sellers, too. But, in my humble opinion, you really can’t go wrong with whatever you choose.”

He smiled at you as you let your own gaze drift down to the case of treats before you.

“If you want to try anything, we do samples, so-” you were about to start rambling when the oven went off, both of you looking over at the sound.

“I’ll get it,” Nickie called from the small kitchen, just past the back counter, where she had gone to eat her cookie.

You turned back to the man and were met with his eyes already on you, both of your brows raising in quiet surprise. He was closer to you now than he was a moment again, and you tittered. You couldn’t fight the small smile that cracked on your face, and he returned a soft one of his own.

“Did you wanna-” you were cut off by Nickie as she looked around, growing a little frantic.

“Do you know where the oven mit is?”

“Oh, I had it..” you tried to think where it could have landed when you’d tossed it earlier, making a face as you came up empty, moving to search the area with her. “Ahhh. I don’t.. Damn,” you breathed.

You took another quick glance around before you moved to the oven. You really didn’t want them to burn.

“I’ll just grab it really fast,” you told Nickie as you pulled the oven door open.

She cringed at the thought, “I know you can’t feel it, but still, you shouldn’t do that,” she warned.

“I’ll be fine,” you assured her, “I’ll put them down super quick, can you just clear the counter and then we’ll move them to the rack in a minute.”

You could feel the man’s eyes on you still, and as you reached to grab the tray, you turned to speak to him, “Sorry. If you want to try anything, just let me know.”

As you were turning and talking, you blindly grabbed the tray.

It took a second for it to hit you but then all at once you felt the burn.

You quickly let go, pulling your hand back with a harsh gasp before you could get the cookies out. You grasped onto your wrist out of instinct as the pain burned through you.

“Fuck,” you cursed as you gripped your hand.

“Are you okay?” both the man and Nickie asked in unison, watching you with concern.

You flicked your eyes up to the man before looking over at Nickie.

“It.. it hurts,” you said, confused by the fact that you felt it at all, and yet knowing full well what that had to mean.

“Oh,” she breathed in response, her gaze flicking over to the man still standing at the counter, but getting closer, all the while keeping his eyes on you. She blinked, eyes rounding slightly as she looked at you once more, “I’ll get a towel or something.”

She rushed away while you groaned softly. Both at the stinging burn and the fact that your cookies were definitely getting too baked.

“Just grab whatever will work,” you called to her, “they’re gonna burn if we leave them any longer.”

“I can grab them for you,” the man offered as he approached you, coming around the counter to where you were. “I uh, I haven’t met my soulmate, so…” he seemed a little embarrassed by the confession as you stared at him dumbly.

Your mind was racing with all the things you wanted to say to him, but your tongue was refusing to move as you stood there holding your hand.

He stepped closer, and it seemed he was waiting for your permission as he nodded to the oven. You looked at him and then to the tray of cookies waiting to be taken out. You took a step back and gave him room to get to the tray. A part of you wanted to warn him that you’d thought the same thing when you’d grabbed it, only to be proven wrong, but another wanted to confirm that... that it was him.

You watched intently as he reached into the oven. It felt like he was moving in slow motion while you waited for his hand to make contact with the metal tray.

He grasped it and his forehead creased, brows furrowing as he quickly moved from the oven to drop it onto the back counter. You were holding your breath and almost deflated until you realized he was cursing under his when he was holding the tray.

“Shit,” he cursed once more, shaking out his hand, his brows still drawn together. You were staring at him with rounded eyes as you continued clutching your own burn.

You offered him your name and you stepped closer, your voice making him lift his gaze from examining the burn on his hand, up to you.

His brilliant eyes seemed to twinkle in understanding as he met your own. He breathed a smile, mirroring your movements and taking a step to you in turn.

“James. You can call me Bucky,” he simpered.

“Bucky,” you nodded as your lips curled into a soft smile of your own. “Thank you, for saving the cookies,” you offered.

“You’re welcome. Should maybe invest in some more oven mitts, though,” he joked with a mirthful smirk playing on his lips.

“I should,” you agreed with a nod and a light laugh. “Sorry about your hand.. I uhm, I have a first aid kit in the back,” you gestured with your head, “burn cream included.”

“That’d be good,” he said, “and you have nothing to be sorry about, I offered,” he continued, trailing you to the back. Nickie passed you sheepishly, though she gave you a small, knowing smile as she went to watch the front.

You swallowed hard and cleared your throat of your nerves as you worked to collect yourself, gathering your bearings with this turn of events.

“So... Bucky, huh?” you said as you grabbed the stuff you needed from the kit and watched him lean against the empty counter. You walked back over to him as he waited for you.

“Yeah. It’s uh,” he stifled a small hiss as you smeared some ointment onto his burn, gently holding his hand as you did. There was something about the soft touch that you couldn’t quite explain. The way it makes you feel, something you’ve never felt before. It wasn’t like the pain, it was more like a comfort, but still it was new. “It’s usually reserved for friends...family, but I think soulmate fits in there, too,” he smiled charmingly at you before taking the tube of cream from your hand. “Unless you like James more,” he offered, “honestly, I’d probably answer to whatever you wanted to call me,” he flirted easily.

You held your breath at the touch, and let out a soft titter at his words, a spark stemming from his hold as you let him put some ointment on your small burn.

“I think I’ll go with Bucky for now,” you smiled, meeting his brilliant blue gaze.

“So I- I’m not too sure how this goes…” he started, a self-deprecating smile sitting crooked on his lips while he let go of your hand, somewhat reluctantly, once he was done with the cream, setting the tube on the counter before looking back at you, “but I was thinking we could start with dinner.”

There was a twinkle in his eye again, hope shining through, and you were sure your gaze held much the same as you waited for him to ask. “Are you free tonight?”

#bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fic #soulmate!au #bucky barnes x soulmate!reader

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hollisxwrites · 3 months

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Hi! I absolutely love your writing, I was wondering if you could write a luke castellan x reader. Where she’s been at camp for a while now and haven’t been claimed. But most people at camp think she’s Hermes daughter which Luke hates because he has a crush on her. But she’s known the entire time, just wanted to stay in that cabin with Luke and everyone else.

"you've got to hide your love away"

not my gif or my song! all credits to the original creators.

luke castellan x fem! reader (lukes POV)

word count: 1.8k

warnings: some sexual innuendos (nothing explicit though), some crude language, kissing, another song fic! i'm sorry! premise of the first little section is luke denying feeling for the reader because the people at camp think they could be half siblings, but it's nothing weird so dw!

summary: the reader is incredibly close with the kids in the hermes cabin, so close, that she lies and says she has not been claimed by her godly parents yet in order to stay with her friends for as long as possible. eventually, she admits it to her closest friend, luke, and he is relived, as he is in love with the reader.

authors note: guys! i have reached 500 (!!!!!) notes on two works so far, and that has blown me away! thank you for all the request, i'm working on getting through all of them as we speak, and i am so excited to put out what i have been working on to you guys! this is a shorter fic and just kind of cute, so i hope you enjoy! keep sending request, i'm loving reading all of your thoughts about percy and luke! i am so thankful for this community. love you all!

My friends and I, Connor, Travis, Chris, Clarisse, Alice, and {reader} sat around a dwindling campfire on an oddly cold night in September. A gentle wind blew, rustling the leaves around us, and sending the heavy smoke of the fire into the faces of Connor and Travis, making everyone sitting under the stars laugh at their dramatic performance of a coughing fits. Everyone, that is, except for {reader}. She always had a soft spot for people who seemed to feel unwell, even if it was for something as small as the brothers inhaling a little bit of smoke as a joke.

{Reader} was unlike anyone else I had ever met, sympathetic, gentle, and kind. Every time I saw her, I felt like my world was a little brighter. Chris said I loved her, Connor said it was just because she is my “sister” through the camp, but I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what the feeling was. She had not been claimed by her godly parent, or so she says. Everyone believes that her dad is Hermes, since he is typically a deadbeat dad, and people say he is too lazy to claim her. I guess their thoughts made sense; she had lived in our cabin for two years, so Hermes really had no reason to claim her at that point. It shattered my heart just a little bit, as {reader} was so beautiful, a type of beauty that is unique unto her, something I feared I would never get to experience again. I thought I would not be able to fully love her if she was my sibling. So, I pushed back any feelings I could have for her deep down in my heart. No one knew about them, and I hoped they never did, especially if she was my sister. I didn’t want to be seen as some kinky weirdo.

The Stoll's finally stopped their theatrics, and I was able to look at {reader} for what felt like the first time due to the long day we’ve had. Everything from counselor duties to training to hanging out with friends, I hadn’t gotten to spend a lot of time with her the days prior. I watched her every move, and every moment she enchanted me. Holding her guitar that I had gotten her from an Apollo kid for her birthday last year, she was picking out random chords, humming along to a song that I didn’t recognize. Conversation fell silent amongst our group as {reader} started to play the chords she had been fiddling with in more confidence. She sang along to the expertly played chords in a clean, clear voice that mesmerized me every time I heard her sing. When she reached the chorus of the song, she looked me in the eye while she sang, causing my stomach to erupt in fireworks. Her eyes shone in the darkness, made even more beautiful by the fire reflecting off them.

Gather 'round all you clowns,

Let me hear you say

Hey, you’ve got to hide your love away!

When she completed her song, the Stoll's clapped, and then repeated her chorus loudly, skipping around the perimeter of the campfire, shouting like drunken sailors. Typically, I would’ve joined in their antics, but in that moment, I couldn’t even speak. {Reader} was so beautiful. Maybe Chris was right, maybe I did love her. She sat her guitar down beside her, and leaned up against the logs that we used as makeshift chairs. She threw her head back laughing at a joke Clarisse made, and her laughter was almost as beautiful as the song she had sung. I could have sworn at that moment that my heart was going to burst out of my chest. Something about the energy surrounding her made me admire her. I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

Eventually, when the moon was completely risen in the sky, and the Harpies were about to come out, my group retreated to our respective cabins. After showering and changing, I laid in my bed, staring up at the ceiling that was plastered with plastic stars, there to comfort younger campers. I fiddled with the bracelet on my wrist that {reader} made for our friend group and exhaled deeply. I had no idea what I was going to do. That day had solidified for me that I was in love with {reader}. Her aura was enchanting, enticing me every time she spoke. I stared into the plastic stars for what felt like an eternity, when all the sudden, someone distracted me from my thoughts (thank the gods).

“Luke?” {Reader}’s sweet voice whispered. “Are you still awake?” I saw her figure standing next to my bed. She was wearing a sweatshirt from her hometown and flannel pants that made her look warm and inviting. Her hair was slightly out of place, and she looked frightened.

“Of course I am, you know me. Never asleep.” I said with a sigh, sitting myself up on my elbows so I could see her better. “Whatcha’ need?”

She turned her head away from me, as if she was embarrassed by what she had to say. “Nightmares. Again. I can’t go back to sleep, I tried.”

I frowned, feeling sympathetic for the girl in front of me. “I’m so sorry. I know that sucks. What can I do to help you?”

“Could I stay with you?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“What do you mean?” I asked quizzically, my heart racing, thoughts jumbling together at the mere idea of her staying with me.

She rolled her eyes and shoved me over. “I just need to be around someone right now, and you’re my best friend, so...”

I moved over so she would have room beside me, and automatically, I could see her body relax. I pulled my duvet over her, making sure she was warm, and shuffled over a little more to respect her space. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head. “Not really. I do have something that I want to tell you, though.”

I laid down so I was facing her. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

“Of course I can, that’s why I’m scared to tell you this. I don’t want you to hate me.” I could see the agitation on her face, so I reached out to hold her hand, hoping to ground her. Electricity sparked where our skin met, but at that moment, I tried to ignore it. I wondered if she felt it, too.

“I could never hate you. I don’t care what you tell me. You could tell me you hated sword fighting and I would still forgive you.” I said, giving her my best sympathetic smile.

She giggled at this, moving to play with the silver ring on my finger. “I know.” She swallowed hard. “Luke, I have been claimed by my dad, I just didn’t want to tell anyone because I didn’t want to leave the cabin. I didn’t want to leave you.”

Resisting the urge to let my jaw drop, I looked at her, trying to find any sense of sarcasm in her gaze. “Are you serious? Who claimed you? When? Why me?”

“Apollo is my dad." She said shortly. “A year ago, the first time I played the guitar you got me. He claimed me then. Also, why you? Look at yourself. You’re the most genuine person who I have ever known. I love you. So much.”

This time, my jaw did gape open just a little bit. She loved me. Oh, my gods, she fucking loved me. “I love you too, but why are you telling me this now?” I asked, curious as to why she was letting me in on this information at two or three in the morning.

“That’s what my nightmare was about. The lie had gotten to me, and you started to believe I was your sister, which is a horrible thought, and you dated someone, some Aphrodite girl who said I was too ugly to be loved by someone like you. I didn’t want that to become my reality, so here I am.” She said, her gaze traveling down to where our hands were still connected.

My mind ran circles around her words. She loved me. She wanted me. I guessed I looked lost, maybe even unhappy, because when I started to speak, she cut me off. “So, what you’re saying is that...”

“If you don’t like me that’s okay! Seriously. I know that this is random and ridiculous. It’s just a stupid dream.” She said, trying to pull her hand away from mine.

“It’s not stupid, {reader}. I love you, too. I wanted you to not be a Herme’s kid with everything in my heart.” I paused, eyes moving to her lips. “Can I...” At this, she softly pressed our lips together into the sweetest kiss I had ever experienced. It was so soft, and some of her honey lip balm transferred onto mine. She pressed a kiss to my cheek, my scar, my jaw, and my neck, before her eyes drifted closed. “I love you, Luke, but I want to sleep.”

“I love you, too, so I will let you sleep.” I responded, pulling her into my arms. I held her close for the rest of the night, basking in her scent and her warmth. I was coaxed to sleep by her rhythmic heartbeat that I could feel against my chest.

....

“WHAT THE HELL!” Travis shouted. It was probably nine in the morning, due to the emptiness and light coming into the cabin.

I jolted awake, suddenly aware of another person in my arms. {Reader}. She had her arms thrown across my chest, head resting in the crook of my neck. I rubbed my eyes with my free hand, trying to take in what was happening around me, trying to comprehend that the night prior wasn’t a dream.

Travis and Connor stood near my bedside with stunned looks on my face. Connor was the first to speak up after Travis’s initial reaction. “Did you guys' fuck?”

My face turned beat red. “No, dumbass! Go away, she’s still asleep. She just had nightmares last night and didn’t want to be alone.”

“Sureeeeeeee.” Travis drew out, smirking at me. “That doesn’t look like you guys are just friends, Lukie.”

I rolled my eyes and pulled {reader} closer, trying to ward off the Stoll's, trying to protect her from waking up at their loud words. “Go away, please!”

The brothers chuckled and walked out of the room, nudging one another. I sighed and turned back to {reader}. She didn’t stir in my arms, surprisingly, after all the commotion. Holding her there made everything in my life make sense, and at this moment, I believed I had finally found my lifeline, my home. I pressed a kiss into her hair and contented myself with memorizing every freckle on her face.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #percy jackson #percy jackson show #luke castellan fluff #percy jackson fluff #pjo series #pjo tv show #percy jackon and the olympians

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 1 year

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I don’t want you like a best friend | Xavier Thorpe x Reader

Summary: You and Xavier have been best friends for a while, but you don’t want to be just friends anymore. Come the Rave’n dance, you decide to tell him

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: suggestive themes

"Say my name and everything just stops I don't want you like a best friend Only bought this dress so you could take it off"

—

‘’Are you coming the the Rave’n dance?’’

‘’I don’t have a date.’’

‘’You could go with Xavier?’’ Enid suggested with a knowing grin.

You and Xavier have been best friends since your first year at Nevermore Academy. Being away from home for this long and adjusting to a new environment had been difficult. You missed your family and the comfort of home. Making friends wasn’t your strongest, so you ended up very lonely.

Until you met Xavier. Although he was part of the popular crowd, he preferred solitude. He could spend hours on his own, drawing or painting.

One day, his sketchbook fell out of his bag in botanical class and you were amazed by the close to perfection sketch of your mutual classmate, Ajax. You hadn’t been able to stop the compliment that spilled from your lips. Xavier had smiled, a little shy, and thanked you. The next day, he had made a drawing of you sitting in the courtyard, reading a book.

You never talked to him outside of class…until parents’s weekend. You had been anticipating that day for so long — you missed your parents very dearly —, only to hear from Principal Weems that morning that they would not be coming. Sadness had filled your heart and you ended up crying silently between two shelves at the library.

You weren’t the only student whose parents didn’t come. Some parents, like Xavier’s father, were so busy with their work life that they cared very little about their son’s school event. Unlike you, Xavier didn’t come to cry. He was looking for a book. Except he found you instead.

You spent the whole day together, getting to know each other and talking about anything but your parents and, for the first time in weeks, a smile curled on your lips. Especially when he shared with you his little ability of making his artwork move.

Your friendship tightened over the years, friends turning into best friends. You called each other during summer break, and sometimes visited because September was just too far away. The Thorpe manor was massive and Xavier had his own art studio — which was even bigger than his shed on school grounds.

It was nice to have a friend like him.

But since your last visit, some things changed. Your friendship had developed into deeper feelings — non-platonic feelings. You held back from acting on them because Xavier was freshly broken up with Bianca and hurting. You also didn’t want to be someone’s rebound.

‘’I heard he’s going with Bianca,’’ Wednesday butted in, making Enid narrow her eyes at her.

‘’Only because she asked him,’’ the blonde quickly clarified. ‘’It doesn’t look like they’re getting back together though. Like ever. Xavier’s been very indifferent toward Bianca lately.’’

Enid wasn’t wrong. You hadn’t heard Xavier say Bianca's name in the past two months and you were the second person he spent the most time with — after Ajax. He came to you when he had doubts about the genuineness of their relationships, so he would tell you if he was still into her. Right?

That’s how the plans were made.

‘’That means we’re going dress shopping!’’ Enid grabbed her pink fuzzy backpack, looking at you excitedly. ‘’You need a dress that screams ‘stand back bitches, he’s mine’.’’

There weren't many shops in Jericho, so everyone ended up in the same one. It’s gonna be a miracle if two girls don’t show up in the same dress.

The bell above Hawte Kewture dinged as you and Enid stepped in. ‘’The dance committee is suggesting all white to match with the team, but that’s not gonna fly with us. If you want to catch Xavier’s attention and make him see you as something else than a best friend, you need to stand out.’’

‘’I’m not gonna wear bright pink, if that’s what you’re suggesting.’’

You weren’t afraid of colors like Wednesday, but brighter tones and pastels were Enid’s palette. Not yours.

‘’That’s not what I had in mind. Come.’’

None of the dresses you tried were to your liking. Too much tule, too itchy, too plain. You needed something that would make the whole place shimmer, to quote Enid.

Time passed and, around you, your classmates were all finding their dresses. All except you. Even Enid had found hers — a white number with a fluffy collar and cuffs. You were starting to feel defeated.

A sigh left your lips. I'll never find anythi—’’ You cut yourself, catching a velvet fabric smushed between the tule and sequins. You plucked it from the rack and held it before you.

‘’What about this one?’’

Enid stopped flicking through the dresses and turned to you, approval flashing in her eyes. ‘’Yes! This is the dress,’’ she confirmed, squealing excitedly.

You and Enid were getting ready for the dance in her dorm, both of your makeup bags spilled and mixed up on her bed. It was a complete mess — and will probably be staining her comforter in some places because of a missing cap on a lipstick and a broken highlighter. Sorry, Enid.

‘’If Xavier doesn't kiss you tonight, he is the dumbest guy ever. I mean, look at you. If this doesn’t push him to make a move, someone else will.’’

But I don’t want someone else, you thought to yourself as you applied a light wash of color to your cheeks.

You didn’t want to be that girl, but to your eyes there was only Xavier.

His sweet smile that never fails to make your heart swoon, those pretty green eyes you want to stare into all day, those lips you were dying to kiss and taste. The way only he knows how to make you laugh when you're sad and the warm hugs you never want to break from. He is always real and honest with you, even if his thoughts are sometimes dark. The speckles of paint on his shirts and sometimes on his school uniform — which he always needed your help to clean —, the late nights sneaking in his dorm to talk about everything and nothing.

‘’Y/N! Are you listening?’’

You pulled yourself out of your thoughts, thankful for the color on your cheeks covering your natural flush. ‘’Sorry. What did you say?’’

‘’You were thinking about him, were you?’’ Enid teased, grinning like a teenage girl in a rom-com.

‘’I was not thinking about Xavier,’’ you denied.

She scoffed. ‘’Liar.’’ Enid held up two lipsticks, asking for your input. ‘’Should I do red or pink?’’

‘’Pink.’’

When you entered the room of flashing lights and buzzing music, all eyes turned to you.

All except Xavier’s.

His were too busy staring at the layered white tablecloths while Bianca was talking about god knows what. Before him was an empty glass, telling you enough about the fun he was not having.

You bit back a smile, secretly happy to see he was not having fun with his date.

‘’Ohh, look, Xavier’s there,’’ Enid pointed out in the least subtle way, grabbing your arm and looking right in his direction. ‘’He polished up nice.’’

He was wearing an all white suit with a thin black bowtie and his hair was pulled back, showing off his features. You sucked in a breath, feeling butterflies in your stomach. He looked so handsome — gorgeous.

‘’I’m gonna get us some drinks.’’ You tore your eyes from Xavier and went to the table where the punch was. With luck, someone will have spiked it and it’ll give you some liquid courage for later.

As you were filling the second glass with blue smoking punch, someone came up to your side. By the whiff of their cologne, you knew immediately who it was.

‘’I thought you weren’t coming.’’

His eyes raked up and down your body and you held back a smirk. Your plan was working, the dress was working. It was nothing too revealing. You wanted to get Xavier’s attention, not get sent to your room by Principal Weems.

‘’I changed my mind.’’ You grabbed your other drink and handed Xavier the second one. ‘’Yeti-tini?’’

It was for Enid, but oh well.

Xavier accepted it with a soft dimpled smile and brought the glass to his lips. ‘’You look…’’ He swallowed hard and lowered his eyes while searching for his words. ‘’Beautiful.’’ A light flush covered his cheeks, quickly correcting himself. ‘’I mean, you look great.’’

‘’Thanks.’’ You brought your drink to your lips to hide your smile. ‘’Shouldn’t you be with your date? Bianca seems a little lonely.’’

He glanced at Bianca who was sitting alone at a table, swishing her drink in its glass out of boredom, then drew his gaze back to you. ‘’I’m not allowed to come and say ‘hi’ to my best friend?’’

Best friend. You tried not to wince.

Xavier Thorpe was the king of mixed signals. A minute ago, he was complimenting you and looking at you the way a platonic friend wouldn’t, and now he was calling you his best friend. The words hurt like a knife in your chest.

You shifted your eyes to the dancefloor and faked a gasp. ‘’I gotta go. There’s a girl code emergency. Someone is flirting with Enid and she’s giving me the help signal.’’

‘’Oh. Okay. I…I’ll see you later, then.’’

You walked away with your drink and searched for Enid. The night was off to a bad start.

Eventually, you got dragged to the dancefloor. Most songs the DJ was playing were normie modern pop, but you tried to not cringe too much. One would think a school like Nevermore would be into more unorthodox music, but they can’t escape the radio hits.

You were dancing with Enid and Yoko, letting go and having fun between girls when you caught sight of an upset Bianca leaving the dance and Xavier sulking in a chair. Abandoning the girls, you snaked through the crowd of students and made your way to him.

‘’I know you are Nevermore’s tortured artist, but you’re allowed to have fun once in a while. Come dance.’’ You extended your hand, waiting for him to take it.

Xavier raised an eyebrow. ‘’With you?’’

‘’Yes. I promise I won’t step on your feet.’’

He accepted your hand with a sigh and you pulled him to the dancefloor as a better song came up. A sliver of a smile curled on his lips as your back was turned to him, hidden from you.

You swayed close to him, moving your arms, hips and shoulders to the music. Xavier chuckled and followed automatically, dancing as he pleased and fully letting go. He pulled silly moves and even made you twirl, making you both laugh. A perpetual smile etched itself on your face and pieces of hair were coming loose from Xavier's hair tie, forgetting about the people around you.

The music switched to a slow song and you both stood there, not knowing what to do. His eyes flicked down to you, looking at you in a way he never had before. You've never been nervous around Xavier before. He was your comfort person, the only one who you could be unapologetically yourself with. But the way he was looking at you sent nervous butterflies in your stomach.

Your hands shaking from holding back from him. You didn't want him like a best friend anymore. You didn’t want him to touch you like a best friend anymore.

As if he had heard your thoughts, Xavier stepped closer, so close not even a sheet of paper could pass between you. So close you could smell his cologne, a mix of pine notes with a softer undernote. His hands found the courage to rest on your waist, his gentle touch sending electricity through your body. ‘’Is this okay?’’ he asked, gulping as his eyes bore into you, the close proximity making his hands sweaty and causing his heart to pick up.

You nodded. It was more than okay.

‘’Xavier?’’

He hummed, his green eyes shimmering from the mirrorballs hung to the ceiling, reflecting the party lights. You curled your fingers around one of the tails of Xavier’s bowtie, wishing you could undo it and attach your lips to his neck and fastening yourself to him like a stitch.

‘’There's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while.’’ He motioned for you to go ahead as you swayed to the slow music. You took a last breath and allowed the words to leave your lips. ‘’I...I don't want us to be friends anymore. I can't keep pretending I'm okay with us being just friends when all I think about when we're together is closing the space between us and kissing you.’’

‘’Like this?’’

Xavier leaned down and when his lips touched yours, all pieces fell into place. You melted into him and slid your hands around his neck, as if you were afraid he would break the kiss and run.

You were both out of breath when you pulled away, eyes filled with desire.

‘’I take back what I said earlier, you look fucking beautiful tonight,’’ Xavier said, his mouth overing over yours. ‘’And that dress— It's killing me.’’ His hands moved up and down your sides while his eyes stalled on the swell over your breasts. He was trying to be respectful with all the chaperon professors around, but his pants were getting a little tight.

There was absolutely no subtlety in the way you and Xavier snuck out of the room to go to his dorm. Your red dress stood out like a sore thumb among all the white.

Your dress hit the floor the moment you made it to Xavier’s dorm and remained there all night. After all, it was the reason you had bought it.

—

Xavier Thorpe taglist: @sofiaadler @partyfly @hoodforcalum @thelilacmourning @ellessecretobsession @su-alteza-emia @achoo---uu @not-leaprvt @xaviersgf @peterparkerdilf @roadworkaheadisurehopeitdoes @dragon-chica @coldtacozinepanda @wrldofsage @eddiemunsonsluvrrr @capriaura @officialsaturn @babyfiva @maevaomizzolo @kelloggs-world @whosljt @ajpanda181 @belovedrey @emerycrt @elizabitchsshit @heaven-hiding @lilithlikestoread @est-liber @moonisu @dessxoxsworld @parker-nite @bellblake121890 @vesperazhier @kaldurahms-lover @beeebo234 @nephilimsss @mayuphoenix @sweetheartlizzie07 @watermelon-18 @snixx2088 @555stargirl555 @robinscardigan @chumchum19 @lilttblog @aphex2winn @heizenka @mystargirl-interlude @hwrtsiren @babygirljay20 @wildflowerlyss @strangersomeone @openfandoms @charlottelaffin @iheartmaddyperez @starless-starkov @ali-r3n

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe x you #wednesday #wednesday netflix #percy hynes white #wednesday imagine

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javierpena-inatacvest · 8 months

Text

Chapter 11- Abe Froman, Sausage King of Chicago

Summary: After an invitation from your cousin, you and Javi take a trip to Chicago to meet your family and attend her wedding.

Word Count: 14.6K (She's lengthy, your honor)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, drunk sex (all consensual, obvs), creampie, praise kink, breeding kink (if you squint, but y'all already know) PTSD/anxiety around greif/loss, mentions of religion (the wedding is at a church), drinking alcohol/being drunk (that's what weddings are for, right?), your family being a hot mess but they're sweet and they love you and LOVE Javi, Javi being the best boyfriend ever 10,000 gold stars for him

A/N: Hi everyone!! Thanks for your patience as I finished cranking out this chapter (teaching is hard and children are exhausting), but we are finally done!! We are finally getting to meet Osita's family (eek!!!) and are one step closer to... THINGS *wink wink* happening hehehehe As always, thank you so much for your comments and reblogs, I love these two more than life and you supporting my lil stories means the world to me 🥺💕 My goal is to have chapter 12 done in the next two-ish weeks, thank you for your patience!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

“No, I know, Mom. Yes, I promise I will let her know by today. You understand why I’m having a hard time with this, right? I understand that Charlie and David are going. Okay. Yes. I know. I know, Mom. Tell Dad I say hi, too. Okay, love you too, bye.”

Javi could practically hear your exasperated sighs down the hallway, coming home from work to find you on the phone, hands rubbing against your temples as you finished your conversation with your mom. Since moving into your apartment together, Javi had become familiar with the routine of you taking time to talk to your mom once a week, even offering to hop on the call quickly to say hello if he was home. It was something he could tell you normally seemed to look forward to, seeing how much you missed your family considering it was September, and you hadn’t seen them since you moved to Texas in January. That’s why when he heard the frustration and annoyance over the phone, he gave you a concerned look that you quickly tried to brush away.

“Your mom?” Javi asked, hanging up his suit jacket on the back of the kitchen chair as he made his way over to you, giving you a quick kiss hello, wrapping his arm around your waist as you set down the phone.

“Yeah. Yeah, it was my mom.” You huffed, Javi looking at you in confusion as an unfamiliar scowl covered your face.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked, prompting you to come sit with him on the couch. You curled up next to him, laying your head in his lap as he played with the ends of your hair, waiting patiently to hear what had been bothering you so much from your phone call.

“It’s my mom just being my mom.” You grumbled, pushing your face deeper into Javi’s thigh, trying to relieve some of the pressure building in your temples, making your head hurt. Javi could tell you were holding back, now taking his other hand to trace circles along your shoulder blades, trying to coax an answer out of you. He had come to learn that if something was bothering you, your stubbornness did not allude well to you sharing, insisting that you were fine until he was persistent enough to get it out of you.

Guess all those years of interrogation in the DEA were still good for something.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you be so grumpy after talking on the phone with your mom, and you guys talk all the time. What’s going on, Hermosa?”

Letting out a deep breath, you rolled over, the back of your head resting in Javi’s lap so you could look at him, those stupid, sweet chocolate eyes already staring back at you. “Fine, you win again, puppy dog eyes Peña. My cousin Kelly is getting married in a month. I was supposed to RSVP for us last week since she gave me a plus one, but I couldn’t make up my mind, so my mom has been trying to stall for me, but she said Kelly needs to know her final head count by tomorrow.”

“Why don’t you want to go? I feel like I’ve heard you talk about Kelly, it seems like the two of you are pretty close?” Javi prodded, still knowing there was something you weren’t telling him.

“It’s in Chicago.”

Ah. There it was.

As much as you missed your family, there was a reason you hadn’t been back to Chicago since you moved to Laredo. Not because you didn’t want to see them. Not because you didn’t miss Chicago. Not even because you were worried about running into Paul. You didn’t want to go back to Chicago, because you hadn’t been there since your brother died. It was easy to blame your shitty ex for your cross country move, and that was a story that people seemed to understand without question. What they were missing was the real reason you up and left Chicago as fast as you did. It was because Patrick had died in December, and it took less than a month for you to realize you needed to be as far away from the memory of him as possible. Your parents had offered multiple times for you to come back and visit. They had even offered to pay for your flight to and from Texas to see them. Everytime you found yourself close to saying yes, you found that unpacked “Chicago” box staring at you in your living room, telling you that you just couldn’t do it yet. You hadn’t gone back, because that meant you had to face all of the things that you ran halfway across the country from. And that reason was much harder to explain as to how you had found yourself all the way in Laredo, Texas.

“You want me to be honest with you, Osita?” He looked down at you, fingers still curling around the ends of your hair in his lap.

“I guess.” You grumbled, letting out another sigh.

“It would be stupid for you to not go.”

“Javi you know that-“ you retorted, pushing yourself up to sit next to him.

“I know. I know what you’re gonna say. I get it. It took me a fucking decade to really face any of my family after my mom died because I thought it would be easier to ignore it. It wasn’t. It was still painful as fuck, and I wish I would have just ripped the bandaid off sooner. Your family misses you, baby. You can’t ignore it forever.” He leaned over to press a kiss against your temple, you still sulking in your silence. “When were you gonna tell me that you got a plus one to this thing, huh?” He smirked at you, finally getting a smile to curve from the ends of your lips.

“Never. I was planning on taking your Dad since I know he won’t pester me about doing the right thing and he’s more fun than you anyways.” You smirked back at him giving Javi a nudge before laying your head back down on his lap. You took a deep breath before you spoke again, closing your eyes with your exhale. “I know that you know you’re right, you don’t need to rub it in. You really think I should go? You’d come with me?” You glanced up at him as he smiled down at you.

“I thought I wasn’t invited.” He winked at you as you shook your head.

“Pendejo.”

“You love me. Yes, Osita. Of course I’ll come with you. I’d love to finally meet your family and be your date to the wedding.” That finally got you to smile, wrapping your arms around his leg, squeezing him tightly.

“Listen, don’t feel like you have to though, okay? I know it means you’re gonna have to take time off, and get plane tickets and-”

“Osita, I’m going with you. I think Morris would be fuckin’ relieved if I finally used some of my vacation days. Don’t worry about the tickets either.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss into the top of your head, feeling the smile of his lips against you.

“Okay. Thanks, Javi. I’m really excited for you to meet Abe Froman, the Sausage King of Chicago.” You laughed to yourself, pausing at Javi’s silence as he looked at you in confusion. “Abe Froman? The Sausage King of Chicago? Ferris Buler’s Day Off? Please tell me you’ve seen Ferris Buler’s Day off?” You were now back to sitting upright, looking at Javi in shock.

“Osita, who the fuck is Abe Froman?” Javi chuckled at you shaking your head in humor thinking he had any idea what you were talking about.

“The Sausage King of Chicago!!!” You grabbed his shoulders and shook him before he reciprocated, grabbing you back and playfully shaking you just as hard. “Fine, it looks like we’re watching Ferris Buler’s Day Off before we leave.”

“I don’t understand how this doesn’t make you nervous.” Your leg bounced frantically as you sat outside the bench of your airport terminal, glancing over at Javi, who couldn’t have looked less bothered, flipping through the pages of one of the books he had brought to read on the plane.

“Baby, if you keep bouncing your leg like that, you’re gonna put a goddamn hole in the floor.” He laughed, tucking his book back in his bag as wrapped his large palm around your knee, trying to settle your leg back into a resting position. “I promise it’ll be fine, it’s a 3 hour flight, it’ll go by fast.”

“That’s easy for you to say, you flew everywhere, all the time. I just don’t understand how thinking about the fact that we’re gonna be in a giant tin can, thousands of feet up in the air going hundreds of miles per hour, at the mercy of a dude who you just hope knows how to fly you to your destination doesn’t make you feel like you’re gonna shit your pants.” Javi draped his forearm across your lap, keeping both legs from bouncing as the leg he had left uncovered had quickly begun tapping against the tile floor.

Now boarding flight 1605 to Chicago, Illinois. Passengers, please have your boarding passes ready.

“Oh shit. Okay. I guess that means we’re getting on this metal death trap. Do you have our boarding passes? They’re in your bag right? You have all our-” Javi swallowed the rest of your sentence as he cusped your face, pulling you in for a soft kiss.

“I have it all. I promise it’ll be okay. C’mon, Osita.” He smiled, interlocking his hand with yours as he slung his backpack over his shoulder, walking you towards the gate.

Javi was thankful for both your sakes that it didn’t take long to board your flight, offering to suffer in the middle seat, hoping that letting you look out the tiny window of the plane would potentially ease some of your horrendous flying anxiety. Knowing you, it wasn’t a shock to Javi to find out that the thing that made you most stressed about flying is that you had absolutely no control over what was happening, which, to be fair, he couldn’t totally blame you for. As you had been waiting, you had been listening to your Walkman, putting an excessive number of CDs in Javi’s bag, not sure which one was going to make you feel the safest in the soda can you were about to take flight in. You had settled on listening to the Beatles Greatest Hits, hoping that blasting the familiar songs through your headphones would at least bring you a little comfort. Javi’s hand never left your leg, tracing small circles against your jeans as he thumbed through the pages of his book. Your music was loud enough that you hadn’t heard the flight attendants make the announcement that you were about to begin takeoff, so the sudden movement of the plane down the runway had you death gripping around Javi’s forearm and scrunching your eyes closed. Without saying a word, he took one of his hands and intertwined it with yours rubbing his thumb across your soft skin. You had no interest in reciprocating Javi’s gentle touch, you were grasping on to his hand so hard, he was convinced you were trying to break a bone. You spent the entire flight with your eyes closed and holding on to Javi, finally feeling like you could breathe again once you had landed, and Javi finally feeling the circulation of his blood flow coming back to his hand.

After picking up your bags, you were able to quickly hail down a taxi, insisting to your parents that if they were going to let you stay for the weekend, you weren’t going to make them drive all the way out to the airport to pick you up. They had reluctantly agreed, and you couldn’t have been more thankful, needing the extra 45 minutes in the cab to try and calm your nerves before facing your family for the first time in 9 months. Although Javi had tried to give you your space on the plane, he could sense the stress in the cab ride to your family home was of a much more intense and gut wrenching caliber than on your flight. “You doing okay, hermosa?” he asked softly, leaning over to press a kiss into your shoulder as you stared out the window at the skyline.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m okay.” You replied, Javi less than convinced by your response. Trying to think of anything to help ease your mind, he looked out at the city from his own window before turning back to you.

“What’s your favorite place to go downtown?” He asked, squeezing your hand, giving you a look that said I know you don’t believe it, but I promise it’s going to be okay.

You smiled back at him, nodding at his question as if to thank him for bringing up something to distract you on your drive. “Chicago Stadium where the Blackhawks used to play. They tore it down a few years ago to build a new arena, but I have lots of memories of going to watch games there with my brothers and dad as a kid. I always really liked going to the Shedd Aquarium, too. Well, after I found out that you weren’t allowed to feed your younger sister to the sharks when your parents weren’t looking, despite what my brothers told me.” The both of you laughed, the drive passing quickly as you shared more stories of the happy memories of your life long before Laredo.

A strange feeling washed over you as you pulled down the familiar street of your childhood home. The quiet suburban road was lined with tall trees, their leaves painted deep red and orange, gently falling in the crisp October wind. The homes were rich with charm and character, neatly placed along the sidewalk, mentally counting down how many left there were to pass until you finally arrived at yours. It was an eerie feeling pulling up to the last house on Coachman Drive, wondering to yourself how on the outside, it looked like a day hadn’t passed since you’d lived there, yet on the inside, everything had been turned upside down.

“Fuck, it’s cold. Is it always this fuckin’ cold here?” Javi shivered as he pulled your suitcases out of the trunk of the cab, the two of you beginning your journey up the pathway to your front door.

“I forget you’ve been spoiled with warm weather your entire life.” You laughed, watching Javi already struggle with the stark change in temperature. “It’s only 55 degrees, it’s not even that bad! Remind me that if we come back in the winter, I’m gonna need to get you an Alaskan grade snowsuit, cause you are not gonna be happy with how cold it really gets.” You paused as the two of you reached the front door, taking one last deep breath in as you placed your hand on the cold metal of the handle, almost as if you were bracing yourself for the last moment of separation you had between you and your past.

“Hey.” Javi placed his hand over yours. “It’s gonna be okay. I love you.” He looked down at you, giving a reassuring nod as you mustered up the best smile you could, twisting the handle of the door as you stepped in through the doorway.

“Hey, it’s me! Anyone home?” You shouted into the entryway, looking up the stairs and into the living room for any signs of your family. “Hello?” You looked at Javi and shrugged as you kicked your shoes off by the door, walking deeper into the home. Just as you were about to turn the corner into the dining room, you felt two hands wrap around your shoulders from behind, quickly shifting to put you in a headlock.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in.”

‘David, you asshole, let me go!” You squirmed in your brother’s grasp, sharply jabbing him in the stomach making him grunt and release you.

“C’mon, Cubby, that’s no way to say hello to your favorite brother that you missed oh so much.” He teased, playfully punching at you.

“Bold of you to assume that you’re my favorite, or that I missed you.” You rolled your eyes at David before smiling and pulling him in for a hug, shaking each other in your tight squeeze.

“AUNTIE BEAR!” A little voice shrieked from down the hallway, tiny feet patterning against the tile floor as a small body came barreling towards you, smiling at the sweet nicknames from your family you had missed so dearly.

“Olivia come here, sweetie!” You crouched down extending your arms to your niece, scooping her up and spinning her. “Oh I missed you so much, cutie patootie! How’s first grade? Are you being a good role model for your classmates?”

“Yes, Auntie Bear, I promise! I was Star of the Week last week in my class!” Olivia’s little voice giggled as you pecked her with kisses before setting her back down. “Tell her Daddy, tell her how I was star of the week!” She beamed as Charlie peeked down the hallway, grinning at you as you ran into him for a hug.

“Hey, Bear Cub. It’s good to see you. Missed havin’ you around.” Charlie smiled at you as he ruffled the hair on your head, taking a much gentler approach to his greeting than your other brother.

“Oh honey is that you? Greg! Turn off the damn game, your daughter is here!” You could hear your mom rushing out of the family room, laughing as she barricaded through your brothers, squeezing you in her grasp. “Hi, sweetheart. I’m so happy you’re here. We’ve missed you so much. I was just telling- GREG! I SWEAR. HOCKEY WILL STILL BE ON LATER, YOUR LITERAL CHILD IS STANDING AT THE DOOR.”

“Jesus, woman, I’m coming! I heard you the first time, I’m trying not to throw out my goddamn back getting out of my chair!” You dad sauntered down the hallway, grumbling to himself. “Hey, kiddo.” Your dad wrapped his arm around your shoulder, rubbing a noogie in your arm. “Missed you, bud.”

“I missed all of you guys too.” You smiled out looking at your family, the ache in your chest starting to ease, replaced by a familiar comfort of the chaos being surrounded by the people you loved.

“Who’s that guy?” Olivia pointed at Javi, who was looking very overwhelmed by the whirlwind greeting that had just taken place. You looked back at him, reaching out to grab his hand, giving him an apologetic look that you had completely forgotten to introduce him in the rapid fire reunion that had occurred.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! Everyone, this is Javi!” You gestured at him as you began to roll call the family member surrounding you. “Javi, these are my brothers, David and Charlie.”

“Nice to meet you guys.” Javi outstretched his arm, shaking both your brother’s hands, the two nodding back.

“Likewise, Jav. Heard a lot about ya.” Charlie smiled, releasing his hand from Javi’s to give him a pat on the shoulder.

“And these are my mom and dad.” You gestured over to the older couple standing in front of you as Javi stepped forward, hand open and ready to shake.

“It’s so nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs.-”

“Oh please.” Your mom swatted at Javi before pulling him in for a hug. “Pam and Greg will do just fine. It’s very nice to meet you, Javi. We’ve heard so much about you. We’re thrilled that you could come, we have been just dying to finally meet you!”

“That’s very kind of you. It’s great to finally meet all of you, too. Thank you so much for letting me stay.” Javi smiled at your parents, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze as he stepped back closer to you after saying hello.

“Oh he is so polite! And handsome honey, oh my god!” Your mom more than whispered as she leaned over towards you.

“I heard that, Pam.” Your dad groaned, making the two of you laugh.

“Excuse me?” Olivia sassed, looking at you with her arms crossed over her chest, making you laugh at how witty she already was at just 6 years old.

“Sorry sweetie, how could I forget? Jav, this is my niece, Olivia.” Javi crouched down to Olivia’s level, holding out his hand for a high-five, Olivia quickly using all her might to give him one back.

“Oh man, you’re strong!” He laughed, pretending to shake out his hand in pain from Olivia’s forceful high-five. “It’s nice to meet you, Olivia. Your aunt talks about you all the time.” Javi smiled at you before standing back up.

“It’s ‘cause she’s my favorite aunt, even though she’s my only aunt. It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Javi.”

“Wait, I just realized, where are Natalie and Brianna?” You looked at Charlie, puzzled by where his wife and your other niece were. Charlie chuckled as he scooped Olivia back up into his arms, making his way towards the door to put on his shoes.

“Well considering that Natalie is almost 8 months pregnant and exhausted and we have a 3 year old who needs to sleep, they’re still both at home. They’ll be at the wedding tomorrow, though. And speaking of which, Little Miss, it is already wayyy past your bedtime. I told you we could stay until Auntie Bear got home, and then we’d have to go. Give her one last kiss and you’ll see her tomorrow, okay?” Charlie held Olivia up to your cheek, letting her give you a kiss before a yawn escaped from her pouty face.

“Daddy can’t we stay just a little bit longer, pleaseeee?” Olivia whined, giving her dad her best puppy eyes.

“Yeah, c’mon Charlie, just a little bit longer? Pleaseeee?” You laughed as your face mirrored Olivia’s, not taking Charlie very long to give in to your request.

“Fine. Until the end of the game and then we have to go. No if’s, and’s or but’s, missy.”

“… Butts.” David snickered to himself as you rolled your eyes.

“You are worse than a literal six year old, I swear, David. Thank you, Charlie. Let us just go put our stuff away and then we’ll be back down, okay?” You smiled at your family as you nudged Javi to grab his bag and follow you upstairs.

"I gotta grab something from my room, too. Here, I’ll help you take up your guys' stuff.” David smiled, looking back at your family, giving them a reassuring nod before grabbing one of the bags by your feet as the three of you made your way up the stairs to the second level. As you got to the top of the staircase, you paused, taking a deep breath as Javi and David continued down the hallway. “So Cubby, how’s it been with-” He turned around, now realizing you were no longer following along, staring blankly at the first bedroom down the hall. The joy you had just felt from your greeting now draining from your body, leaving you feeling numb.

Patrick’s room.

“I knew this was gonna fucking happen. Cubby. Listen to me.” David retracted his steps, now standing in front of you, grabbing you by the shoulders and forcing you to look at him, an unusually stern and serious look growing across his face. “You gotta let it go. You don’t have to forget, but you can’t be mad about it anymore, dude. It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault. Okay, that’s not true, it’s the Army’s fault, those fuckers, but there’s nothing more that you could have done. He’d beat the shit out of you if he knew how mad at yourself you still were. Let it go.” You and David weren’t one for ever being sentimental with each other. Hell, before Patrick died, the closest sentiment you had ever given each other was refraining to not wrestle the other to the ground for the entire day. That’s why when David wrapped his arms around you for a hug, a real hug, you could feel something inside you shift, like the tiniest bit of guilt had begun to lift off your shoulders, that there was a truth to his words that you alone weren’t the one to blame. “Okay, okay, that’s long enough, the hug can end now.” David stuck out his tongue before taking his arms and shoving you away, breaking your somber stare, turning it into smiles.

“Thanks, David. You didn’t really need anything from up here, did you?” You half smirked at him, trying not to let him know how much his pep talk had meant to you.

“Of course I didn’t, idiot. I mean it, Cubby. Don’t take too long up here, lovebirds. Remember, we share a thin ass wall and I don’t need to hear you two going at it all night.” He punched your arm before passing by Javi, giving him a Pat on the back before making his way back downstairs.

“Jesus, David!” You groaned, covering your face over your hands as you looked back up at Javi. “I told you this house was a shitshow, and this is down a brother.” You gestured towards Patrick’s door before grabbing the rest of your bags and heading down the hallway to your old bedroom. Javi laughed, following behind you.

“Your family’s funny as hell. I’ve been here 20 minutes and can already understand why the iguana only made it a day.” He nudged you as you opened the door to your bedroom, pausing a moment before his next question.

“Yeah, they’re funny, but this is them on their best behavior. I called my mom and practically had to beg her to make sure no one did anything too embarrassing, and this is still what we get.” You grunted as you swung your suitcase up onto your bed, looking around to find your room in the exact same state it was before you had moved out and left for college. To be quite honest, Javi wasn’t shocked to find that your childhood bedroom probably could have been mistaken for one of your brothers- your dark blue walls covered in Chicago Blackhawks pictures and pennants, a giant Star Wars poster next to your dresser, medals and trophies of little golden hockey players lining your shelves. As he walked over to a desk in the corner of the room, he saw dozens of old photos, mostly of you and your family, but a few of just you as a kid with your wide, toothy grin, drowning in whatever hockey jersey you had gotten that season. Javi laughed to himself, holding up one of a tiny you, beaming as you raised a trophy above your head, missing nearly half your teeth, your face red and sweaty as you sat on top of who looked to be your dad’s shoulders. Sneaking up behind him you wrapped your arms around Javi’s stomach, pressing your chest into his back now giggling at the photo he was holding. “That was the first year my parents let me play with my brothers. I was so determined all season long to score a goal all season. First and only one was the one that won our team the championship that year. It’s all been downhill since then.”

“God, you were fuckin’ cute. Our kids better look like you.” He turned around resting his hands on your hips as you rolled your eyes at him.

“You’re very sweet, but let’s hope we can spare them that pain. I will be very disappointed if they don’t have your adorable puppy dog eyes, although, if that’s the case, I’m gonna have to get really good at learning how to say no so I don’t give into their cuteness.” Javi shook his head, caging his chest against yours as he pulled you in tight. “Thank you, Javi.” You whispered against the soft fabric of his shirt, the familiar scent of his sweet and spicy cologne filling your nostrils as you leaned your head on his body.

“For what, Osita?” He asked, taking one of his hands as he palmed the back of your head, running his hands through the ends of your hair.

“I don’t know, I just- I know my family is a lot, and you flew with me all the way from Texas just to meet them, and- shit, on top of that, I’m dealing you the tragically dead brother card, and you’ve just been so great and understanding. So just- thank you, is what I’m trying to say. Thank you for all of this.” You took in a deep breath, squeezing yourself tighter against Javi’s chest.

“Hey.” He dragged his hand from the back of your head to your cheek, his fingers feathering over your skin. “I appreciate it, but you don’t need to thank me for anything. I love you. I’d do anything for you, Hermosa. Thank you for letting me be a part of your life, even the parts of it that hurt.” Javi dragged his thumb across your cheek, wiping away the tears that had started falling, pressing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“Anything? You’d eat a pile of dog shit for me?” You tried to laugh through your tears, making Javi’s eyes roll.

“Anything within reason, you idiot. You’re not any better than David.”

“Hey, you take that back, that’s a low blow, even for you Javier Peña.” The two of you were both laughing, taking one last deep breath to press up on your tiptoes to kiss Javi before opening up your suitcase to dig out some of the pajamas bottoms you had packed. Stripping out of your jeans, you shuffled through your closet, pulling out a well worn Blackhawks crewneck and slipping it on before sitting down on the bed to watch Javi rummage through his own suitcase.

“You sure it’s okay if I change? I wanna make a good impression on your parents.” He huffed, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt he had packed.

“Did you meet my family? Javi, to be completely honest with you, I am shocked my dad even had the decency to put pants on before he came out to say hi to us. You’re more than welcome to keep on what you have on, but you don’t have to worry about making a good impression. I promise, they really like you. My parents never told Paul to call them Pam and Greg in the whole 3 years we dated. Plus, I also very selfishly want to see you in those gray sweatpants.” You smirked as Javi undid his belt, pushing his jeans to the floor before grabbing his sweatpants and shuffling them on, his shirt quickly following suit.

“I don’t understand what it is with you and these fucking sweatpants.” He laughed, pulling you up to stand from the edge of the bed as you outstretched your arms toward him.

“You already know exactly why, Javi. And if we weren’t trying to share this tiny bed and my parents and David weren’t on either side of these paper thin walls, you best believe I would be showing you just how much I appreciate them. Thank God Kelly’s wedding is far enough away and everyone likes to drink enough to get hotel rooms for tomorrow.” You reached down, palming Javi’s dick in his sweatpants, making him bite down on his lip before taking his hand and grabbing your wrist.

“Don’t…” He warned, trying his best to be stern, even though you could clearly tell he wasn’t that upset by your gesture.

“Oh, I’m sorry, is this coming from the man who fucked me in his bathroom on his birthday, surrounded by all of his closest friends and family? Two can play at that game, baby.” You winked, giving his crotch one more squeeze before running out of the bedroom as Javi adjusted himself, following behind you down the hallway.

…….

“Your fucking team is kicking our ass.” You dad grumbled as you and Javi entered the family room, where your parents, brothers and niece were gathered on the couch, surrounding the TV.

“GREG! Your granddaughter is right there!” Your mom slapped your dad across the couch as he held up his arms in defense.

“They are, Pam!” Your dad retorted, angrily pointing at the screen, playing the Blackhawks vs. Dallas Stars game, the Blackhawks down by 2 with only 5 minutes left.

“It’s okay.” Olivia chimed in, peeking up from the drawing she was working on. “Daddy said that swearing during hockey doesn’t count, but Daddy says I can’t tell Mommy that.”

“Nice parenting, Charlie.” Your mom turned to the opposite side of the couch, now slapping your brother.

“Okay, listen, I will root for Dallas if they’re playing anyone else but the Hawks. They are not my team, they just happen to be the only hockey team in a thousand mile radius since Texas is a hockey wasteland. Blame him, not me.” You pointed at Javi, giving him a playful shove as you both sat down next to Olivia on the floor.

“I don’t know, I really thought my team was the Red Wings, you guys really like them too, right?” Javi chuckled, trying to inflict as much sarcasm as possible to make sure his joke stuck. Considering your family spoke sarcasm fluently, Javi was relieved to find your family laughing to themselves, your dad reaching down from the couch to put a hand on Javi’s shoulder, shaking it in delight.

“Good man, Javi. She’s taught ya well. I was worried that- Oh motherfucker, you call that a penalty?!” Greg screamed at the TV, you, David and Charlie all following suit.

“GREG! LANGUAGE!”

“SORRY!”

It was now your mom’s turn to reach down and touch Javi’s shoulder as she mumbled in his ear. “I am so sorry about them. She’s no better than the boys, I’m afraid. I swear, sometimes she was the hardest to raise because she was always trying to prove a point to her brothers. She is a tough cookie though, I’ll give her that. Sorry if you’ve got your hands full with her.” Your mom laughed, patting Javi’s back.

“I can definitely see where she gets it from. She’s stubborn as hell, I’ll give her that, but I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as smart and determined as her.” He looked over at you, beaming with pride as you shouted with your brothers at the TV before turning back to Pam. “I love that about her.”

You turned your head back around to see Javi smiling at you, and your mom smiling at Javi, giving them a confused look as you raised an eyebrow at them. “Are you two talking about me?”

“Maybe.” Javi smirked, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he leaned you over to ruffle your hair before pressing a kiss into your forehead. Suddenly, you felt a little hand tapping on your leg, looking over to see Olivia holding several books in your direction.

“Auntie Bear, will you read me a book before I have to go? You’re better at the voices than Daddy, even though he says he is.” Olivia pleaded, placing the books in your lap.

“Of course, cutie pie. Here, pick which one you want and let’s go over to the living room so we don’t have to listen to Grandpa and Uncle David and Daddy yell at the game.” The both of you giggled as you stood up, Olivia picking up a book before quickly using her free hand to grab yours as you walked across the family room. After taking a few steps, Olivia paused, whispering something into your ear before pointing back at Javi. You grinned, nodding your head, before gesturing over to him, as Olivia quickly made her way back, poking Javi on the shoulder.

“Mr. Javi, do you wanna read with us?” She asked with her toothy grin, holding the book she had chosen up in front of her. Javi was taken aback, eyes going wide, gulping as he looked back at you. He didn’t know why such a simple question had made him so nervous. Maybe it was because he knew how much you loved Olivia, or the fact that the last thing he wanted to do was make a bad impression, your family thinking he was trying to insert himself to prove that he fit in.

“Uh, I don’t know, Olivia, are you-”

“She’s the one who asked.” You smirked at him. “In her defense, she did pick out a really good book.”

“You sure?” He smiled at Olivia, now squealing with excitement as she jumped up and down, clutching her book, nodding her head frantically. “Okay, you’re gonna have to help me though, your Aunt told me that you’re a really good reader.” Javi grunted as he pushed himself off the floor, following the two of you to the living room.

“I’ve been practicing lots. Okay, Auntie Bear, you sit here, and Mr. Javi, you sit here, and I sit in the middle and hold the book.” Olivia nodded defiantly, plopping herself in the middle of the couch.

“What are we reading today, missy?” You asked, pointing down to the book Olivia was holding.

“Tacky the Penguin! Mrs. Meadows my teacher read it but it’s only good if you do the voices extra funny, okay?” Olivia glared at the both of you as she opened to the first page.

“Extra funny voices, got it. You got that, Mr. Javi?” You winked, giving him a pinch on his cheek as he shook his head, wondering what he had gotten himself into.

“Got it.”

Finally noticing what was happening, Charlie elbowed both your parents, gesturing towards you and Javi sitting on one of the loveseats in the living room, Olivia happily squished between the two of you, holding out her book. The 3 of you were in hysterics, dying at the ridiculous voice Javi had attempted for one of the characters Oliva had assigned him, which she clearly had deemed to be funny enough for her liking.

“He’s a good one, huh?” Charlie smirked, your family close to tears watching the glow that had suddenly gone black 9 months ago, slowly begin to shine again with Javi by your side. Your parents looked at each other, quietly nodding to themselves.

“Yeah. He’s a good one.”

It hadn’t taken long last night for Olivia’s one read aloud request to turn into 4 more, your yawns and blinks of your heavy lids against your tired eyes growing more frequent with each page. Halfway through your last book, you and Olivia were curled up against each other, fast asleep. Letting the two of you rest, Javi had spent the rest of his night with your parents and brothers, shocked by how quick they were to treat him like he had been a part of your family for years. Javi shared about your life in Texas- how proud he was of you for all you had been through, how he couldn’t have been more thankful you had quite literally bumped into him at a time in his life he couldn’t have needed more, and just how goddamn happy you made him. In exchange, your family shared stories of your past with Javi, about the stubborn and sweet child you were and the ridiculous things you did with your brothers that didn’t surprise Javi in the slightest. Hours flew by like minutes, and already way later than he had expected to be out, Charlie had just agreed to spend the night, helping to haul his sleepy daughter up to his old bedroom, while Javi helped to haul an even sleepier you up to yours, David, on the other hand, was laughing at both of you in the background, glad that he wasn’t responsible for anyone. Your parents had very adamantly insisted that there would be plenty of coffee downstairs in the morning and for Javi to not be shy and take as much as he wanted when he woke up.

When Javi awoke to the sunrise spilling through your curtains and rustling leaves rustling in the harsh October wind, he was glad that your parents had been so persistent in making sure he got coffee. The tiny bed the two of you shared, plus the time squished in the middle seat on yesterday’s flight hadn’t done any favors for his back, finding himself already wide awake as you still laid face down, snoring into your pillow. Giving you a kiss on the shoulder and throwing on a shirt, Javi made his way downstairs to find your dad and brothers standing half awake, sipping on their own cups of coffee with the sounds of Sports Center in the background.

“Morning.” David mumbled, taking a drawn out sip of his coffee. “Mugs are up there.” He pointed up at one of the cabinets above the coffee pot for Javi as he reached up to pour himself a generous cup. “Had a feeling you would make good on the coffee offer, you striked me as an early riser.”

“Well being hunched in on a plane and trying to share a bed with a human starfish wasn’t really helping in the sleep department.” Javi mumbled, the men’s sleepy laughter filling the quiet kitchen. “Hey, listen.” Javi paused, taking a sip of his drink before speaking. “I uh- I just wanted to say thank you again for letting me stay and making me feel so welcome. I was really happy when she said that she wanted to come this weekend. I know she really misses you guys. I can see why.” The 3 nodded at Javi, soft and sympathetic smiles creeping up the corners of their cheeks. Greg set down his mug, taking a deep breath before looking up at Javi.

“Javi, I think we should be the ones thanking you. We were so worried about our Bear Cub after what happened to Patrick. She just… She wasn’t the same. I know she’s tough. To be honest, she’s probably tougher than these two assholes.” He gestured towards Charlie and David, shrugging, not seeming offended in the slightest. “All winter after she moved, even when we talked with her on the phone, you could just hear it in her voice how much she hurt. Killed us to think of how much she was beatin’ herself up over something she couldn’t have controlled. And then, right around the end of the school year, she started to sound more like herself. We couldn’t believe it. Turns out, it was right around the time she met you. Seeing her yesterday… seeing that she was the same, happy kid she used to be before all of this? Because of you? We owe ya, Javi.” Grabbing his shoulder, your dad stared at him for a moment before embracing him in a bear hug, patting him on the back.

“And now, my dad has officially only given you one less hug than he’s ever given either of us. It’s high praise.” David chuckled as Greg rolled his eyes at his comment.

“Maybe if you two weren’t such idiots, the number would be higher.”

“Fair.” Charlie and David agreed in unison, grimacing as they sipped their coffee.

“He’s being serious though, Javi. It’s been so long since we’ve seen her this happy. Thanks for takin’ care of her.” Charlie raised his mug at Javi after finishing his swig, the steam still dancing off the bitter liquid.

Javi stood for a moment, staring down into his cup, his heart beginning to race. This wasn’t how he had planned to ask the question that was now stirring at the forefront of his brain. He had wanted to do it later, to find a time before the wedding where he could talk to your dad and brothers in a much more awake and less pajamaed state than the 4 of them found themselves in now. But he couldn’t hold it in any longer. He could feel the pounding in his chest with each second that passed, palms sweating around the ceramic of his coffee mug, trying to muster up the courage and find the words he wanted to say. He took a deep inhale, his breath shaking with the long exhale that followed.

“You good, Jav?” David asked, looking back and forth between his brother and dad, confused as to why his demeanor had shifted so suddenly.

“Oh yeah, yeah, I just- shit. This- This wasn’t how I was planning on doing this…” Javi took one more long breath to compose himself, trying his best to work through the intensity of the nerves flowing through his body. “I know you said that you think I’ve made her happy. Truth is, I had really kind of given up on ever finding someone who was ever gonna make me remotely happy until I met your daughter and your guy’s sister. She’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. I’ve never met anyone like her. I still can’t figure out what she sees in me, or what the hell I ever did to deserve someone like her. I know… I know it’s fast, but I’ve never been so sure about something in my life. I’ve known since the day I met her. I know all of you mean so much to her, and I wanted to ask all of you. I love her more than anything. More than I even knew was possible. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with her, to be everything she needs, if she’ll let me, cause I think we all know how goddamn stubborn she is, and she would be just fine without me. I guess…. What I’m trying to say is… I love her, would you give me your permission to ask to marry your-”

“OH MY GOD, IS THIS WHAT I THINK IT IS?!” Your mom shrieked as she snuck up behind the boys in the kitchen, making them all jump out of their skin as they held their hands against their chests, catching their breath from the shock she had just given them.

“JESUS, PAM.” Greg choked out, sputtering between his labored wheezes. “I’m not gonna make it to their goddamn wedding if you give me a heart attack before I even get a chance to tell the kid yes!”

Javi’s head shot up, his jaw hanging half open, trying to make sure he had really just heard what your dad had said. “Wait… did you just-”

“Of course he’s saying yes, Javi! Well even if he’s not, I’m saying yes! Oh come here!” Your mom outstretched her arms draped in her fuzzy bathrobe as she grabbed Javi in for a hug. “You’re saying yes, right Greg?” She shot a deadly look at her husband, now holding up his hands in defense.

“Yes, yes! Of course I’m saying yes, I’m not a fucking idiot! You two morons agree, right?” Your dad pointed at your brothers, now laughing to themselves as they watched Javi caught in the middle of their parents bickering.

“Welcome to the shit show, brother.” David and Charlie stood around both sides of Javi, squishing him sandwich style as David noogied his head, abruptly coming to a halt as everyone heard your sleepy voice traveling down the stairs, into the kitchen.

“What the hell are you guys yelling about so early?” You grumbled, outstretching your arms over your head as you let out a yawn. The rest of your family froze, suspiciously looking back and forth amongst each other, waiting for someone to speak.

“Uh… Javi said he would let us teach him how to skate next time you guys came around, isn’t that right, Jav?” David rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the floor, trying to elbow Javi in his side to get him to respond.

“Uh, yeah? Yeah! That’s what we were talking about. Yeah, next time we come here, I’ll try skating.” Javi replied resistantly, realizing he had never been more thankful for your barely awake state, leaving him and your family in the clear.

“Actually? That’ll be a sight to see.” You yawned again, rubbing your face over your hands, everyone else letting out a silent sigh of relief. “Is there any coffee left?”

The rest of the morning was spent preparing to leave for your cousin’s wedding, your mom insistent on the fact all of you needed plenty of time to prep before her big day. Your family quickly scarfed down breakfast before you and Javi found yourselves back in your old room, repacking your barely opened suitcase as Javi tried his best to keep himself from grinning like an idiot. Ever since you had made your way downstairs this morning, your family had been acting weirder than normal, Javi included. You were trying your best to not read too much into it, but as you sat on the top of your suitcase, fighting with your zipper to get it to close and you caught Javi lovingly staring at you in the midst of your luggage battle, you knew something had to be up.

“You okay?” You grunted, finally getting your suitcase all the way closed.

“Hmmmmm?” Javi shook his head, snapping himself out of whatever day dream he was stuck in.

“You’re being… Weird. All of you guys. What are you all up to?” You interrogated, pointing a finger at Javi, scrunching your nose in frustration.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hermosa. Just excited for this wedding.” He smirked, helping you to stand as you outstretched your arms towards him, snaking his hands around your waist as you met, chest to chest.

“Really? You’re that excited for a stuffy, uptight wedding for one of my cousins you’ve never met? Nice try, Peña. I know there’s something going on, I’ll figure it out eventually.” You raised an eyebrow at him as you poked his chest, making the both of you giggle.

“Alright detective. What if I am that excited, huh? It’s been years since I’ve been to a wedding, and it’s the first one I’ve ever gone to with you. Plus, I’ve never seen you all dressed up before. You always look fucking gorgeous, but fuck, I’m really looking forward to whatever you’re wearing tonight.” He hid his head in the crook of your neck, placing soft kisses along your skin, his hot breath dancing around your ear. “Looking even more forward to taking it off later.”

“You’re a fucking menace, Jesus Christ, Javi.” You fought with everything in you to push him away, finding yourself dangerously close to pouncing on him right here in your childhood bedroom. “Believe me, I am too. I can’t even look at you or you’re gonna make me lose my goddamn mind. Get your sexy ass downstairs so we can get to this hotel.”

“Yes ma’am.” He winked, giving your ass one more good squeeze before grabbing his bag and heading downstairs.

“Ridiculous…” You mumbled to yourself, lugging your suitcase behind him.

While you would have loved Javi’s first trip to Chicago to be one filled with sightseeing and visiting your favorite hidden gems downtown, Kelly’s packed and extravagant wedding itinerary left you with very little time to do anything besides check into your hotel room and get ready before her ceremony. You had always gotten along with Kelly- she was your age, your families were close, and it was easy to bond over playing pranks and torturing your brothers together. For as well as the two of you got along, you and Kelly definitely had different tastes when it came to pretty much everything. When you had gotten her invitation, it wasn’t much of a shock to find out that she was having her reception at the Drake, one of the most upscale and gaudy hotels in all of downtown Chicago, preceded by a ceremony at St. Peter’s. Kelly was one for, well, extravagance, to say the least.

Given your family’s inability to be on time for anything, you had found yourselves leaving your house much later than expected, and you and Javi rushed to check in so you had enough time to get ready for a 2 o’clock ceremony. As much as you and Javi both wanted to, you both had enough sensibility to know there wasn’t even close to enough time even for a quickie, having to share a speed shower with no funny business before Javi left you in the bathroom to finish getting your hair and makeup done. He would have given anything to even just stay and watch you get ready, as it had quickly become one of his favorite pastimes, but your brothers and dad had roped him into getting drinks with them at the hotel bar while the girls finished up in their rooms.

The invitation for Kelly’s wedding had very specifically said that this was a black tie only event, which again, didn’t come as much of a surprise to you, but that did mean you had made one too many trips to the mall in the past month to try and find something acceptable enough for her formal request. You had settled on a black satin midi dress that seemed to tightly hug your curves in all the right places, with a slit that creeped just a touch past appropriate up your thigh. Finally finished with your hair and makeup, you slipped yourself into the dress, fighting to get your zipper all the way up your back without Javi’s help. As much as you hated them, your mom had insisted on the fact that you had be an adult about it and wear heels, picking a strappy black pair to match your dress, you had gone with shoes with the most reasonable height you could get away with. You touched up your hair and makeup before stepping back to give yourself a once over in the mirror before heading downstairs.

Shit, you clean up pretty damn good.

You were surprised to find yourself the last of your family members to meet in the hotel lobby, everyone else already crowding around the bar, chatting away as they waited for you before cramming into the car to drive over to the ceremony. Of course David was the first one to notice you as you walked up to join the group, not letting any opportunity to give you shit pass him by.

“Well damn, how many people on the crisis team did you have up there to make you look like a half presentable human being?” David snickered as you slapped his chest with your purse.

“That’s funny, I didn’t know this was a circus sponsored event, I’m surprised that Kelly would want to invite a clown to her wedding, asshole.” You grumbled, rolling your eyes at David as the rest of your family turned around to greet you.

Javi immediately perked up as he heard your voice, breaking from the conversation he was having with Charlie, whipping his head in your direction. As soon as his eyes met you, his jaw just about dropped to the floor, raising a hand to his face, covering his mouth hanging open agape. You were no better, looking through the crowd at Javi to find him not just dressed in a suit, but a tuxedo, complete with a black bowtie and tight suit jacket that just about brought you to your damn knees. The two of you stood frozen as your family began to move around you, collectively making your way to the doors of the lobby to leave, your mom grabbing your arm to tell you something about how you looked nice and that we needed to go, but with the way you found yourself gawking at Javi, you couldn’t have really told you a single word that she had said. The two of you found yourself at the back of the crowd as Javi walked towards you, his tongue darting out of his mouth as he licked his lower lip, you biting down on yours, wondering how the hell he had gotten even more handsome as he approached you.

“Fuck me, Osita…” He rasped, his eyes glancing up and down the length of your body before leaning in for a gentle kiss. “Jesus Christ, you look fucking… Fuck, you look fucking stunning.” He reached down to interlock his hand with yours as the two of you began following behind your family.

“Me?! Javi what the fuck, since when were you gonna tell me that you owned a goddamn tux? Oh. My. God.” You shook your head, barely able to peel your eyes off Javi and how good he looked.

“When I started working as an attaché for the DEA, they made me get one in case I had any bullshit, ass-kissing dinner parties I had to go to. Only had to wear it twice, but figured now would be another good time to break it out.” He smirked, giving him a nudge as you watched him peek over his shoulder to get a better look at the way your dress hugged against your ass, taking a deep breath as the two of you made your way outside to join your family at the car. “Goddamn, Hermosa, I’m really gonna have to be on my best behavior tonight, aren’t I?”

“Not if anyone catches you.” You winked as you ducked your head into the car, squishing yourself between your brothers to find a seat.

Pulling up to the church just in time, your family tucked into one of the back pews, politely chatting with friends and family members until the processional music had begun, and the wedding party had begun making its way down the aisle. You couldn’t help but bite down on your lip and grin as you watched Kelly make her way through the church in her white, flowy gown, imagining what it would be like for it to be you in her place, walking to meet Javi, waiting there for you to finally be his wife. As you watched, Javi wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer as his fingertips dug gently into your hips, as if to say “Soon, I promise”.

The joy of the moment quickly came to a halt as Kelly met her future husband Mark at the altar and you were hit by the reality of the fact that you were about to have to sit through a full Catholic Mass. Your family had never been religious, your parents often claiming if God was real, he wouldn’t have cursed them with the hell on earth that was raising you and your brothers. Truth be told, Kelly wasn’t really either, but your Uncle Matt, Kelly’s Dad, always loved to try and prove he was just a little bit better than the rest of his family, so even if your cousins were only “Christmas Mass Catholics”, of course he was going to find the biggest, most beautiful church downtown for his daughter to get married in. 15 minutes into the ceremony, you were already beyond lost, wondering why you had already stood up and sat down 4 different types, looking over at Javi, making him laugh as you grimaced your face at the priest who was chanting some sing-songy prayer you couldn’t understand. All of a sudden, you were following Javi and the rest of the church as they got down to kneel, giving him a confused look as to how he seemed to know it was coming next.

“I didn’t think you were religious?” You whispered into his ear, trying to keep your eyes facing forward at the altar.

“I’m not.” He chuckled quietly to himself before quietly replying.

“Then why does it look like you know what the hell you're doing?” You mumbled, both pulling out a book from the shelf on the back of the pews, mimicking the crowd around you.

“Because my parents were, and I still got dragged to church with them every Sunday until I left for college. Never really believed this shit then, definitely didn’t after I left for Colombia.” Javi shrugged, helping you back up to stand. “You’re not, are you? I’m gonna assume no, considering how lost you’ve looked the past 20 minutes.” He glanced down at you, smirking.

“Yeah, that would be a big, fat no.” The two of you snickered quietly, looking over to see a frail older lady with wiry silver hair now shushing you and Javi with a menacing glare on her face. Both of you grimaced, trying to keep from bursting into laughter as you turned away. “So you wouldn’t wanna get married in a Church?” You sighed, realizing you were back to kneeling again.

“No, not at all.” Javi grunted as he got down to join you, resting his forearms against the back of the pew as he leaned over to you, his hot breath hitting your neck. “Although… I do always like seeing you on your knees.”

“Javi!” You reached over, swatting him in the stomach, perhaps a little too loudly, as the same elderly woman who had shushed you a few moments ago was now giving you both the death glare. This time you couldn’t help but keep your laughter uncontained, resting your heads against each other as you giggled over the terrible chanting voices in the background.

You couldn’t have been more thankful that the rest of the ceremony seemed to go by quickly, happily finding yourself on your second drink as cocktail hour back at the reception was underway. Your little bit of liquid courage was enough to get you through the never ending parade of “Hellos”, “Is this your boyfriend?” And sympathetic “How are you doing since Patrick passed?” From your friends and family, Javi’s hand squeezed tightly in yours, never leaving your side, unless you asked him to go get you another drink to help you through the relentless interrogations.

With the reception close to staring, you and Javi went to go find your table, relieved to have a moment of peace as you found no one else had come to sit down yet, finally giving you two a moment alone. “You doing okay, Osita?” Javi asked, rubbing his hand along your back as you finished off the rest of your gin and tonic, opting for something stronger than beer to get you through the night. “Yeah, only because it seems like the bartender is making these extra strong.” You laughed, swirling around the melted ice in your glass. “I’m okay because I have you with me.” You giggled, Javi laughing along with you, already able to tell that you were a little tipsy as you stood up out of your chair. “And on that cute note, I’m gonna go run to the bathroom really quick before all this starts. I love you, handsome.” You pressed a quick kiss into his cheek as you wandered through the crowd, Javi happily taking an extra long look at the way your ass swayed in your dress as you moved.

“Hi Mr. Javi!” A little voice squeaked, tugging on the sleeve of Javi’s suit jacket.

“Hey, Olivia!” Javi smiled, looking over to see both of your nieces and your brother standing next to him.

“You know where Bear Cub went?” Charlie asked, looking around the crowd, distress spreading across his face as he held Brianna, your 3 year old niece, crying in his arms.

“Bathroom, why?” Javi asked, sensing the desperation in your brother’s tone as he rocked his sobbing daughter, Olivia already comfortably climbing up into the seat next to Javi after pulling the coloring book and crayons out of the bag Charlie had strapped over his shoulder.

“Shit… Look, I’m sorry to do this man, do you mind watching Olivia until she comes back?”

“Brianna had an accident.” Olivia chimed in nonchalantly, picking up a pink crayon to color in one of the balloons she was working on in her coloring book. “She’s got pee all in her underwear.”

Javi tried his best not to laugh, nodding to Charlie as your brother rushed off with Brianna. “What are you working on?” Javi looked over at Olivia, gesturing to the page she was very intensely focused on coloring.

“It’s a picture of a puppy with balloons, but I’m making them pink and blue because I like pink and Auntie Bear likes blue. Here, you color this one.” She assertively shoved the coloring book in between her and Javi, Javi picking up a gray crayon from the box to start coloring the elephant Olivia had demanded he worked on. “Do you love Auntie Bear?” Olivia prodded, not even bothering to look up from the puppy she was tracing with her brown crayon. Javi froze for a moment, taken aback by the 6 year old’s bluntness and curiosity.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I love your Aunt a lot.” Javi smiled at Olivia as the two of them exchanged crayons.

“So why haven’t you married her like Kelly and Mr. Mark yet? Isn’t that what grownups do when they love each other?” Javi took a sip of his drink, not realizing he was going to have to justify his life choices to your niece over a coloring book.

“Well yeah, it’s what a lot of grownups do, I guess. I want to marry her, I just haven’t asked her yet.” Javi took a deep breath, wondering how a first grader was prying this information out of him.

“Well why haven’t you done it yet?” Olivia sassed, crossing her little arms over her chest as she looked at Javi.

“Well, it’s not that simple.” Javi answered, shaking his head as he continued coloring the picture in front of him.

“It seems like it is. If you ask her I know Auntie Bear will say yes. She loves you a lot more than Mr. Paul. She never smiled around him and she always smiles when she’s with you.” Javi sighed, setting down his crayon to look at Olivia.

“Well she makes me smile a lot, too. Don’t worry, I’m gonna ask her soon.”

“Really?!” Olivia squealed, bouncing up and down in her seat. “And then you’ll be Uncle Javi instead of Mr. Javi?!”

Javi grinned, a soft smile creeping across his cheeks. “Yeah, I guess so, huh?”

“What are you two cuties talking about, huh?” Javi unaware of your presence behind him, making him shoot up as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

“Well Mr. Javi and I were coloring and he said that pretty soon he’s gonna be Uncle Javi and that he’s gonna-”

“Hey, you guys! Who colored that ugly ass elephant?” David joked as the rest of your family joined you, Javi and Olivia at your table, Javi absolutely relieved by your brother’s insult of his poor art skills to stop Olivia from going any further. You couldn’t help but feel heat flush over your face, knowing exactly what those two had been talking about, biting down on your lip as you gave Javi a little nudge. You didn’t say anything. You didn’t need to. Javi’s pink cheeks and flustered face told you everything you needed to know. Javier Peña was going to propose to you. The only question that left you with was when, and where.

If there was one thing you knew about your family, it was they were always ready for a good time, and that was without an open bar. It wasn’t long before everyone at your table (besides your pregnant sister in law and nieces, although Olivia perhaps had one too many juices) were several drinks in, wanting to make the most of Kelly’s wedding. From the moment the dance floor opened, everyone was out, singing and dancing, including Javi, who you had dragged on to the dance floor with you, even though it didn’t take much convincing to do so after the shots of Fireball your brothers had wrangled him into taking. There really weren’t words to describe the feeling you had watching Javi with your family. Although his presence could ever replace Patrick’s, there was something about the way Javi had come into your life and healed a piece of you that had been missing, aching to be filled by the love of someone who you cared for so deeply. Not only had he filled that void for you, but watching him laugh and dance with your family made you feel like he seemed to ease some of their pain too. You watched your family bond with Javi quicker in the past two days than they did with Paul in 3 years. It was like they knew just how special he was, just how much he had come into your life and changed it for the better. There was never a doubt in your mind, but if this trip had done anything, it had solidified for you that Javier Peña was the best thing that could have ever happened to you.

The night had flown by, dancing and screaming to the music on the dance floor, now completely losing count of how many drinks deep you were. At some point, Javi had taken off both his suit jacket and bow tie, his dress shirt now undone 4 buttons deep, while your heels your mom had insisted you wore were long gone at your table hours ago. As the music on the dance floor began to shift, slowing its pace to “At Last” by Etta James, Javi outstretched his arm toward you, pulling you in towards his chest, wrapping his large palms around your waist, resting dangerously close to the curve of your ass. You leaned your head against him, your face resting between the fabric of his dress shirt and his exposed skin as the both of you swayed back and forth along to the syrupy melody of the song. Javi peeked over his shoulder, looking at Kelly and her now husband, hand in hand on the dance floor, grinning to himself as he spoke down to you.

“I can’t wait for that to be us.” He beamed, nudging you in Mark and Kelly’s direction, your drunken cheeks growing even more pink than they already were from your countless gin and tonics. “I’m not even kidding, Osita. I’d marry you tomorrow, but I got a plan because you deserve everything and I’m gonna fucking give it to you.” You bit down on your tongue, raising an eyebrow at Javi’s drunken smirk as you draped your arms around his neck.

“A plan, huh? And what plan would that be, Jav?” You giggled as he pecked a few kisses at your cheek.

“I’m drunk, but I can keep a secret. I know you hate surprises, but it’s gonna be a surprise okay?”

“I mean, if it has to be, I guess that’s fine, I just wanna- JAVIIII!” You shrieked as he tightened his grip around your waist, lifting you off the floor and twirling you in a circle as the song came to a close. “You are crazy!” You laughed, playfully punching him as he set you down

“Crazy for you.” He winked, shaking you in his grasp.

“Okay, that was so cheesy. Like extra cheese on mac and cheese, cheesy. Even for how drunk we both are. You’re lucky you’re a hot piece of ass, Javier Peña.” You giggled, grabbing a quick squeeze of his butt, your laughter slowly turning into a drunkenly horny desire as you saw Javi’s eyes light up and jaw go slack as he just about damn near undressed you with his eyes in the middle of the dance floor.

“Me? Osita, I don’t think you understand. You are the most beautiful, sexy woman I have ever fuckin’ seen. I’m not even kidding. I swear to God. I had random ass guys at bar asking if I had seen the hot girl in the tight black dress, immediately pointing to you, and you know what I fuckin’ told them? I said that’s my fucking wife, so you can fuck right off, she’s all mine.”

“Well that’s very sweet of you except for the fact that I am not your wife, Jav.” You crossed your arms, popping out your hip as you sassed him. He shook his head before stepping into you, holding both of his hands around your face as you looked up at him, his slight frown quickly turning into a mischievous grin.

“Yeah… but you’re fuckin’ gonna be.”

You weren’t sure what it was, maybe it was the one too many drinks you had in your system, maybe it was something in the air at the wedding, maybe it was the fact that even in both your drunken states, when you looked at each other, you knew that there was no one else in the world you wanted by your side for the rest of your life besides each other, but the kiss you found yourself tangled in was like one you’d never felt before. Something about the deep and intense passion mixed with the slow and gentle press of Javi’s whisky stained lips against yours had your heart pounding in your chest, the world seeming to stop around you. You would have kissed him like this forever- you didn’t even care if anyone stared as the two of you found yourselves intertwined in the middle of the dance floor. The only thing that was stopping you was the unison of your rasped whispers as your lips parted.

“You wanna go back up to the room?”

The both of you burst out laughing at the way your words synced, taking a few moments to compose yourselves from your hysterics as Javi looked out into the crowd at your parents and brothers.

“You sure your family won’t care?” Javi gestured over to the group, surrounding David as he ripped his tie off his neck, flinging in circles over his head.

“Javi, I would be shocked if they even knew what planet they’re on right now. C’mon, let’s go.” The grin on your face began to grow as you picked up your heels from your chair, tossing Javi his jacket and bow tie before grabbing him by the hand and pulling him out the door.

The two of you found yourselves practically sprinting down the hallway of the hotel, Javi chasing behind you as you reached the elevator. If it wasn’t for the older couple that had been standing in front of you the way up to your floor, you and Javi gave each other a playful look as if to say, you’d know I’d fuck you right here in this elevator. As you reached your floor, you followed behind Javi as he stepped out of the elevator, immediately jumping on his back, clinging to him like a Koala, trying to wrap around the width of his broadness.

“What the hell are you doing, Osita?” He laughed as he hiked you further up on to his back, beginning to carry you down the hallway towards your room.

“My feet hurt! And honestly I just kind of wanted to, it looked fun. I bet I could carry you if I really, reallyyyyy tried.” You were nothing but smiles and giggles as you ruffled Javi’s dark curls, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Well, maybe let’s not try that one tonight, okay, Hermosa?” Javi chuckled as he reached into his pocket for the room key, angrily fumbling with it as couldn’t get the door to unlock. “Why won’t it fucking work? Doesn’t this door know I need to get inside it so I can fuck my hot future wife?”

“I don’t think the door is really concerned about your wants and needs, Javi. Oh, that’s why you idiot, it’s upside down! Flip it around!” You swatted at Javi’s arm, noticing how he was trying to insert the card. With a reluctant groan, he flipped it around, bracing himself for the “I told you so’s” as the door immediately opened upon your suggestion.

“Okay, listen… I won’t say it… But just know… I’m thinking it.”

“Alright, get off you dork.” Javi shook his head as you slid down his back, crossing the threshold into your hotel room.

“Hey! That’s no way to treat your future wife!” You snickered, giving Javi a harder than expected smack on the ass as he stood in front of you. He immediately spun on his heels, hooking his arms under your thighs, picking you up and pulling you against him as your legs locked around his waist.

“Baby, I’m about to show you exactly how I’m gonna treat my future wife.” He rasped, nipping at your neck as he began to carry you to the bed, taking a few more stumbling steps than normal as he tossed you down onto the fresh, white sheets, making you squeal.

“Well… in that case… Do your worst, Mr. Peña.” You raised an eyebrow at him, your teeth biting down on your tongue as a grin grew across your face. Javi wasted no time, pulling you to the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of you as he draped your legs over his shoulders, hiking your dress up your thighs, sliding his hands against the soft skin on your legs as he pushed up the silky fabric. Hooking his fingers around the lacy waistband, Javi’s face liting up up instantly as he pulled down your panties, realizing what you had been wearing the whole night.

“These are new, aren’t they?” A devilish grin spread across Javi’s lips as he held up the white, lacy thong, already damp from his previous promise.

“Maybe… A little extra surprise, just for you. Only for you.” You propped yourself up on your forearms, shrugging at Javi and giving him a wink as he shoved the skimpy fabric into his back pocket.

“Fuck, baby girl. Only for me. This all for me, too?” He nudged open your knees, revealing the wet slick pooling between your thighs, gently brushing the pads of his fingertips along your entrance, collecting your arousal as he slid through your folds before pushing two fingers inside you. You gasped, arching your back along the bed as his fingers dipped into your dripping heat, pulsing in and out of you ever so slowly, luring out your response. “Tell me, Hermosa. Who’s this all for?” You could feel the hot breath of his words against your cunt as he tucked his head between your spread legs, hooking his arms around them.

“You, Javi, holy shit, it’s all for you.” You moaned, reaching a hand down to tug at the ends of his rich, brown curls as Javi licked a long, broad strip of his tongue against your heat. The pressure against your already throbbing clit had you whining, pulling tighter at Javi’s hair as his fingers set a steady rhythm with each thrust of his hand. Curling them ever so slightly, the new angle of his fingers inside you had him pressing against the spot he knew would unravel you, memorizing you like the pages of a well worn book he had read over and over again. His face was buried in your pussy, swirling circles with his tongue around your sensitive bundle of nerves, the presence of his broad frame nestled between your thighs making you cry out his name, leaving the hand unburied in his locks fisting at the bedsheets. You could practically feel Javi’s grin as he sucked around your clit, feeling you begin to clench tighter around his fingers with each thrust of his hand. His pace was relentless as he could feel you coming undone, devouring you with each meticulous movement of his mouth and stroke of his fingers. You could feel the heat creeping up your spine, your legs beginning to tremble as that all too familiar feeling built inside you.

“Oh Javi, fuck, fuck baby, I’m so close, don’t st-ahhhhhhhh.”

Pleasure flowed through your veins, as you felt yourself gush around Javi’s fingers, gripping tighter at his hair as your orgasm swept through your body, leaving you a whimpering mess as he withdrew his digits and detached his mouth, the smirk of his mustache covered in your slick as he watched you begin to catch your breath as you came down from you high.

“That’s my good girl. Always so fucking sweet when you come for me, baby. Sit up Osita, I need to take this off so I can see what’s under that pretty little dress of yours.” Pushing yourself off your forearms and onto your hands, Javi crawled over the edge of the bed towards you, pressing tender kisses along your neck and down your collarbone as he carefully slid the straps off your shoulders before his hands wandered to your back, gently pulling down your zipper. His touch made you shiver, so soft as it pressed against your skin, each moment undressing you feeling so delicate. Javi drank every inch of you in as he left you exposed, helping you to lift your arms over your head as your dress left your body. “I’ve never seen anything more fucking perfect.” He whispered, heedfully laying you down on the bed underneath him as he worked at the buttons of his shirt, shedding it to the floor before the clinking of his belt buckle led his pants and boxers to follow suit. Hovering over you, he stroked himself before caging his chest against yours, nipping at your neck as his words danced in your ear. “I wanna have you just like this, baby. Take all of you in, every beautiful part of you.”

“Kiss me.” You weren’t sure if you were begging him or demanding him, but in that moment, there was nothing more you needed than to feel Javi’s lips on yours, for your mouths to meet in an electric moment where the only things that existed were you and him. Resting his forehead against yours, you felt the gentlest nod, the strong arch of his nose brushing along the length of yours before he pressed his lips between the open slot of your mouth. You felt the swipe of his tongue along your bottom lip, his mouth swallowing your moans as he guided his length through your folds, his tip collecting your arousal before slowly sinking into you. You savored in his sweet stretch, wrapping your arms around the broadness of his back as he bottomed out into you, pausing for a moment before withdrawing and tenderly stroking back into you.

His thrusts were slow and steady, relishing in the beauty of you beneath him, soaking in every detail of the woman he loved more than life itself. There was something so intimate about the way you found yourselves, your bodies melting together as one, fitting together like a perfect pair, never again meant to be separated.

“I love you.”

Your soft murmur bringing his eyes to yours, Javi’s gaze desperate and needy as his lips met yours again, planting his palms on either side of the pillow your head was resting on as his thrusts became deeper and more intense as his hips flushed against yours.

“I love you, too. More than anything.”

You could feel the arousal pooling in your belly, building more and more present with each stroke of his cock pressing against the spot that made your mind go blank. The way he was so deep inside you, his tip brushing against your cervix, combined with the way the curls of his hair around his base brushed against your clit had you whimpering, already feeling your second orgasming building as Javi began babbling in your ear, his words only making you clench tighter around his length.

“I love you so much, Osita. I wanna give you everything, baby. I wanna marry you, put a ring on your finger- fuck- find us a house with enough rooms to fill with as many babies as you want, I wanna spend every day making you so fucking happy-ahhh, it’s you and me, Osita. Yeah? Eres todo lo que necesita.” (You’re all I need).

That was all it took to send you over the edge, wrapping your legs around the small of his back, nestling your face in the crook of his neck as you cried out his name into his soft skin, over and over again. As he watched you come undone, it didn’t take long for Javi to feel himself reach his own high, pumping a few more times into your hilt before pulsing into you, his spend coating your walls, milking every last drop of himself before slouching into you, his body draped over yours as your chests rose and fell together with each breath, laying for a few moments in the sweet silence, basking in the presence of one another. Pushing himself up, Javi hissed as he gently pulled himself out, the mix of your spend coating your thighs and the sheets below you, quicking getting up to grab you a washcloth from the neatly folded pile on the sink before bringing it back to you, carefully wiping you up before tossing it across the room to the bathroom floor.

Scooping you up and laying you across his chest, Javi wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close as he could to him as he pressed a long kiss into the tangled ends of your hair, only retracting as he felt the warm huffs of your giggles against his skin, grinning at your heartwarming smile.

“What’s so funny, Hermosa? He asked, brushing away a stray piece of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“Do you ever think about if you never came to do that presentation? That none of this could have never happened? That we could have gone the rest of our lives without ever meeting each other? And now here we are, in fucking Chicago, going to a wedding together, having the like, most romantic, drunk sex ever in the history of man kind? I don’t know. It’s kinda just crazy how life works sometimes, huh?”

“I guess. I don’t know…Ever since I’ve met you, I can’t imagine what my life would be like without you. I don’t want to imagine it any other way.” He cupped his hand around your jaw, cradling it as his thumb rubbed across the warmth of your smiling cheeks.

Javier Peña couldn’t fathom the idea of his life without you, and now, he was one step closer to proving to you that he never had to. After exhausted, hungover goodbyes, and a sleepy flight back to the Laredo airport, the first thing Javi did after you had unpacked from your trip and gotten into the shower was dig through the back of his sock drawer. Every day since his birthday when he had tucked it away there, he couldn’t help but to take it out and look at it, imagining how it would feel when he finally slid it on your finger and asked you to be his wife. Because in a sock, inside a sock, inside another sock, was a little velvet case that held a beautiful diamond ring that was about to be yours.

Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts

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too-deviant · 2 months

Note

idk if you’d be comfortable writing this but I was wondering if you could whip up an Aphrodite!reader who’s fed up with her beauty. She stops attending school and stays the full term at camp which makes Luke confused. So she tells him about how random dudes would hit on her and be creepy at her school or something. She’d prolly join him with Kronos bc she wants to feel respected for once. Would be such an angsty but filled with femme rage although totally cool if you choose not to write this~ Just wanted to share it with someone 💛

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Aphrodite!Reader

Summary: Maybe you didn't want to be beautiful anymore.

Content: pretty angsty, brief mentions of male harassment but nothing explicit or triggering, again sorry for the wait i had w block pls forgive me. also not proofread sorry yall its been a rough week.

You were only faintly aware of the noise around you.

The chatter of the city was a mere buzz in the back of your head as you marched down the street. It amazed you, really, just how unbelievably dickish mortal boys could be. This one in particular; Mike Schwartz, a five foot something jock who sat on the bench at every game. He’d been a bother in your life since you started high school. Back then, you took the endless prospects as a compliment – you truly were your mother’s daughter. It was a boost to your weak teenage confidence.

But as the years went by, the constant asking for your hand became an irritant. Especially when they couldn’t get the hint – at fourteen, turning down guys felt amazing, but when those same guys kept coming back for more, it made your eye twitch. Couldn’t they take the first no, tuck their tail between their legs and fuck off?

Apparently not.

After four years of putting up with it, you were done. Storming out of the cafeteria, grabbing all your things, hailing a cab and getting the hell outta dodge. Maybe you should’ve stopped to think — called your dad, taken a few deep breaths. But the harder you thought about it, after trying not to for so many years, you came to the conclusion that you would’ve ended up here anyway.

Here being the peak of HalfBlood Hill in the middle of September. It was only slightly unusual, because when you usually arrive at the start of summer you get to watch the crowds of arrivals setting up shop at camp. Now, however, it was fairly desolate. Less people, you knew.

It was also a split second shock when you stepped across the border and felt the drastic change in weather. From the cool breeze of the autumn air to the warm summery spring that camp was in year-round. A shift that made you pause, but you kept on down the hill anyway.

Chiron was waiting for you on the porch of the Big House, and without so much as a word, gestured for you to follow him inside. He was fairly understanding of your situation, but made you Iris Message your dad and tell him of your decision. He, too, was more glad you were safe than angry you ran off.

“We can talk about this when you feel like talking.” He’d said.

So you’d done it. Finally, you’d gotten yourself away from the hey hot stuffs and the you seeing anyone baby?s. You were back at camp, you were where you were most happy.

But you weren’t happy.

Being a year-rounder, you’d discovered, was a lot less busy than being a summer camper. You got more days off, longer breaks between activities. You found yourself spending more time in your own company; something you never really got to do before. Most of the time you were with your siblings, or your mortal friends, or you were being hounded by some frat boy and their friends.

It took a minute to get used to the loneliness, but you did. You explored camp, found places you hadn’t seen before. A cute clearing near a stream on the east side of the forest, or a Satyr sanctuary on the far end of the beach. You read more books, you trained a little harder, you perfected six new hairstyles on your little sister Elena and Annabeth from the Athena Cabin.

And yet, you were still pissed off.

“Why?”

Luke Castellan was a name everyone knew in this little corner of Long Island. One of the oldest campers, head counsellor of the rowdiest cabin, token tour guide for the new kids. Oh, and the best swordsman camp had seen in, like, three centuries. He was cute, that much you’d heard all around your cabin. But you’d never really held a solid conversation with him until you became a year-rounder. The fewer people around, the more you run into him.

You’d been practising a few neat tricks with a dagger when he spotted you. Said he was there to train himself for once and that you wouldn’t even notice he was there. You did, though. Especially when he took his shirt off twenty minutes in.

You shared a water break, he asked you why you’d transferred to being a year rounder, and you indulge him in the story. He was super nice about it too, which made you angry. Was Luke the only nice guy on the planet?

“But at least you’re happier now, right?” He’d said. You weren’t, you told him that much. He gave you this knowing look you’d never seen on him before, and asked Why?

You shrugged, “I don’t know. I love it here, I do. But I shouldn’t have to uproot my entire life and bring it here just to get some semblance of peace. I shouldn’t have to give up my education, my friends, my dad, just so I don’t have to get harassed every day. It’s not even like my mom gave me anything to help combat it, either. She just made me beautiful and told me to deal with the consequences! I mean,” You let out a weak chuckle, holding up the dagger you’d been toying with, “This was a birthday present from a friend in Cabin Six. Not even my mother, who is a warrior herself, could bother sending me a weapon. They really don’t give two shits about us, do they?”

He’d parted his lips, eyes shining with something, and looked at you through his bottom lashes, “No. They don’t.”

You and Luke grew closer after that. A lot closer. By the time summer rolled around and the rest of the campers returned, you were inseparable. Many rumours spread but you two ignored them in favour of sneaking into that clearing you’d found and talking in whispers about your hatred for the gods. Who cared if they could hear you? Let them.

It was Luke who had come up with the idea to steal the bolt. A quick job, in and out, and maybe then they’d listen to what you’d have to say. But they didn’t — they did exactly what they always did and risked the lives of two young demigods and a satyr just because they couldn’t be bothered doing it themselves. Selfish — that’s what they were. They didn’t care about anyone —

“ — but themselves!” You glared at Thalia, who stood before you atop Mount Tamalpais with her spear in your direction. “I mean, look at your dad. He didn’t care enough to stop the monsters from killing you, oh, but it’s okay because he turned you into a damn tree!”

“This isn’t the way!” Annabeth yelled from afar. Her hair was twisted in a style you’d taught her how to do that first year as a year-rounder. It broke your heart that she couldn’t see how right you and Luke were.

“Curse them, Thalia.” You said plainly, holding up your dagger. Half mortal metal, half celestial bronze. A gift from Luke. “Curse your father and his children. His brothers. Curse them all like they deserve to be cursed! They deserve to be toppled.”

You tilted your head, looking at them all. Luke and your army were heading steadily up the mountain. If you could convince them now, there wouldn’t need to be a battle.

“Where are they now, huh?” You raised both your arms, “You’re fighting for your life against a titan on a mountain and the only god who came to help out was Artemis? And that’s just because she was here already.” You scoffed out a laugh, “You should thank us, really, for taking her. Had we not, you’d be dead already.”

Annabeth watched. You were unrecognisable in that moment — your face streaked with dirt and blood, curled into a dark sneer that any of your siblings would berate you for because of the wrinkles you’d get. You didn’t seem to care all that much, though. Not when Thalia was lunging for you and attempting to pull you out of the rage you were in. Not when her spear and shield were no match for your measly dagger and you went toppling down the mountain.

The next time any of them saw you was in Manhattan — after believing you to be dead for a year and a half, it came as a shock when you emerged from the crowd of monsters. Your hair was hacked short, and one of your legs had been replaced with a bronze prosthetic. You fought with a ruthlessness none of them had seen in you before, whether it be because you were on the losing side or because Luke had given his body to the Lord of Time before you had the chance to tell him you loved him. You were still angry, and even if you hated Kronos, you didn’t hate him nearly as much as you hated the gods.

When Luke died, you were kneeled beside him. Your face was dirty, your hair was knotty, and there was a dent in your bronze leg. He lifted a hand to your face, “I’m sorry to have to say this, but…you’re sorta beautiful.”

“Sorta?”

He grinned, and then he died, and you were filled with such unbridled rage that you pushed yourself down to the ground of Manhattan and tore through Kronos’ army with fire in your eyes, not stopping until Apollo got rid of your sight and forced you to calm down. You didn’t know if you’d ever be calm, since the only person who ever understood you just died in your arms, but you dropped your dagger and stomped your way back up to Olympus like a bratty child anyway.

Zeus didn’t punish you for what you did, but he did say he’d be keeping a firm eye on you. You joined the hunters, much to your mothers disdain, and didn’t ever allow yourself to look back.

#@lia’s works #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians

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lunexrin · 4 months

Text

KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE !

"Why the hell would you do that?!" "Did you think I wanted to?! Your germs... Ew.”

Blurb: A few glimpses of certain episodes if you and Tsukishima Kei were in a shoujo anime!

Genre/Tropes: academic rivals, slice of life, shoujo, romance, slow burn (?).

Reader: fem. (you will be addressed as 'Seiu' which is your supposed last name because i hate putting 'y/n' in my writings. it feels like a turn-off, for me.)

WC: 4.7k.

A/N: oh my god it has been so long?? this idea came from back in SEPTEMBER, on his birthday. and yes it took that long to finish *insert crying emoji*. this is my longest work so far (7 jan 24). but i don’t really like it? i think it’s tedious. i apologize for any grammar mistakes, and would love any feedbacks or critics *insert crying emoji again*.

“Aw, look at you,” He cooed, and you're actually contemplating on smashing your head straight into the glass window of your class rather than hearing his taunts to degrade your scores on this stupid, science quiz.

His pale, slender fingers came into your harsh gaze, watching him tap the wood of your desk in an unknown yet familiar rhythm, gazing down at you. “Why the sour face? You got a ninety-nine, your scores are higher than most in this class— ah!” He snapped his fingers like something suddenly clicked in his mind that he definitely hadn’t thought of before and that he definitely wasn’t using it to brag about it. “But I don’t think you’re the highest, though..”

Darn him for getting the highest. Darn him for getting a hundred.

You could just see him grinning like the fucking Cheshire cat even though your eyes are still glued on your scores.

Ninety-nine. And a little ‘good job’ note the science teacher wrote on the side, with a little smiley face next to it.

Now, why the hell did that smiley face seem like it's mocking you?

“Hey,” he crouched down, resting his forearms on the edge of your desk, and looked into your eyes, his smirk growing bigger. You looked back at him, and your eyes narrowed. “Thought you were crying for a sec.”

You felt offended and immediately went defensive. “I was not!” You exclaimed, accidentally slamming your arms on the desk louder than intended, resulting in dozens of heads turning, and a disapproving look of your teacher from the front of the class.

“Good. You were too quiet, made me uncomfortable.”

You opened your mouth to continue the argument, but before you could say anything, the teacher spoke. “Seiu! Tsukishima!” You both turned towards the teacher, and she gauged her eyes at you both. You knew what she meant, and so you slumped back in your chair defeatedly, while the blonde returned to his seat— that was unfortunately next to you— triumphantly.

“Remember the deal.” He whispered from his seat, scoffing while he took out his notebook and pens.

You sighed and clenched your jaw. “Fine. I’ll get you the darn strawberry shortcake after school.”

“I was afraid that you’d run off,” He was leaning against the wall, close to the gates of your school. “You can be a little cranky about saving a few pennies, don’t you?” He took off his headphones, letting out a small chuckle.

Yes, you can be cranky about money, but a promise is a promise.

There's this stupid bet, or dare I say a tradition where after every quiz, debate, and exam— the one who tops gets to ask the other to buy whatever they wish.

“The usual?” You asked, with the most deadpan expression you could’ve pulled. Tsukishima burst out laughing at that, pointing his finger at your face and mocking every little detail he could.

“It’s either you shut that darn mouth of yours or the strawberry shortcake—”

“Okay, okay! The— pfft— the strawberry shortcake, sure sure.”

You dragged him out of the school gates by the end of his uniform, and he laughed again.

So annoying.

He sees that you are leading him (dragging him) around the familiar streets that lead to the café that you both always went to, ever since freshman year.

He sighed. “The usual it is.”

A few moments passed by, and you both fell into a comfortable silence, which was almost too good to be true. You often just stared at the long shadows on the ground, following you and Tsukishima’s every little movement. Once in a while, crows would caw as they fly high up in the sky, making you look up to the orange-purple skies, the orange rays illuminating your eyes.

At times you overlooked nature, and sometimes you just lost yourself in it.

And at times you overlooked the way your heart beats faster when he looked at you like this— under the sunset where no other soul was near.

“What?” You asked, looking at him in the corner of your eye. Your heart beat faster when you saw him literally glowing under the sun, looking at you with a smile that seemed a whole lot more genuine than you’d like it to be.

He scoffed, staring up at the sky, and then at you. You noticed the two tiny twinkles of light in his golden brown eyes— wait, since when was it there and why are you noticing it just now?

“Nothing, pipsqueak.” He says, staring up ahead with a cheeky grin.

The familiar ding of the bell echoed through the empty, dim-lighted bakery, the nostalgic aroma of freshly baked bread and brewed coffee hits your nostrils, feeling at home.

A small smile curved on your lips, and a sigh of contentment escaped your lips. "Home sweet home." You said, eyes twinkling in fondness.

Making your way towards the counter, you paid for everything that you would be indulging, including his strawberry shortcake that looked ridiculously good. Sitting in the very corner of the small shop, you got yourself lost in the atmosphere as the rain fell outside.

You rested your head atop the wooden table, eyes watching out the race of rain droplets to see which one won, just like when you were a kid— when life was nothing but sunshine and rainbows, unlike now, where everything felt so nonchalant to you, for some reason.

Shamelessly, you kept your mouth stuffed with the cream bread you'd always eat, ever since you discovered this precious of a place. Glancing at the male who's apparently just as caught up with the rain as you are, stuffing his mouth with some strawberry, you begin talking (with your mouth full, still.)

"Are you ever going to try something else?" Your eyes shot to the cake, then back to him. He scrunched up his nose, an expression of disgust as he saw your stuffed mouth. You rolled your eyes, not caring. "It's not like you ever tried anything else— and stop eating like that. It's not like the bread would run off—"

"It's not like the bread would run off." You mimicked him, and he gritted his teeth. "Annoying little shit." He whispered, sipping at the warm coffee to try to keep his cool.

"I didn't know you had a habit of talking to yourself." You smirked, glancing at the tall, clear jug filled with water right in between you both on the table, doing a splendid job at reflecting himself on it. His eyes shot open, glaring at you and the poor jug.

"You weren't this talkative earlier," he said, setting his coffee on the table. "Finally getting over your marks?" He asked, his smirk returning which made your eyes roll.

"Bastard."

“Oi, Seiu.” He almost grumbled out your name, your ears catching the sounds of flipping papers, even through the headphones sitting on your head.

“What?” You replied groggily, taking off your headphones. You’re just about to fall asleep but he ruined it!

You were slumped next to him on the train, temple resting against the cold, metal railing on your side. Maybe it’s because of the scorching weather this July that you felt so incredibly exhausted— all your willpower was drained out at school earlier, and coming to cram school to violate your energy and brain further certainly doesn’t help your current state in any way.

You feel as if your soul is going to be sucked out, yet he’s still reviewing the papers? Doesn’t he feel tired or something?

“English essay papers. The one the teacher graded earlier.” His palm was lazily exposed in front of you, expecting the marked sheets to arrive in it upon his demand. Tsukishima doesn’t know what ‘asking’ is.

“You can still study?” You mumbled, eyes narrowing as you rummaged through your bag. Wrinkles formed on your forehead when your eyes turned into thin slits trying to search for what you wanted, the blur decorating your eyes not subsiding as quickly as you wanted it to.

“You’re going to get old faster than anyone else with that frown of yours.” His voice was lower than usual, but the playful spark remained. His banter was replied to only by the click of your tongue. You’re too tired to joke around.

When you finally found it, you shoved the crumpled sheets into his hand and slumped your head back onto the railing. “Don’t you know what rest is?” You said, sighing as you got into a more comfortable position, forgetting about the device hanging on your neck.

“I need to work harder to beat you.” His eyes narrowed as he read the messy scribbling of your writing, but he can’t deny how he adored your talent to form a masterpiece with a foreign land’s words, every. single. time.

“You’ve already beaten me a lot of times, didn’t you?” At times like this when your consciousness stays for the sake of a conversation, you’re more truthful, or maybe even less hostile. You didn’t have the energy to have an ongoing banter with him no more.

Even though your vision was black, you could feel his eyes glued to you. You were expecting some witty comebacks to launch from his mouth, but he was silent, for a while. It’s deafening.

It almost makes you uneasy.

“I’m not as smart as you, Seiu.” He finally blurted out, but it was so quiet.

Your eyelids fluttered open just slightly as if you couldn’t believe your ears.

He beat you every single time, so what nonsense is spitting out from his mouth? Did the weather get to him too? Until he’s feeling ‘under the weather’? (With all puns intended.)

Ironically as that thought finished, the rain fell. Hard.

You moved the back of your head towards the glass window instead, the coldness of the rain droplets spreading through the glass sent a wave of relief onto your body.

You eyed him from the corner of your eye. That bad posture, the metal frame that sits atop the bridge of his nose that looked like it was about to fall any second from now, the crumpled sheets that were lucky enough to feel the caress of his slender fingers—

You’re doing it again. You’re too observant at times like this, it’s more than necessary.

“You’re insane.” You snorted, closing your eyes again.

“You’re a fucking genius without trying, Seiu.” It’s his time to sigh, almost frustrated. “You don’t even try.”

It’s true. You’re lazy. You hardly even try and yet you score all of your exams.

“If ever someday you decided to pick up a book and scribble more notes..” He drifted off, and you’re kind of eager for him to continue.

“I’m done for.” He mumbled.

What a compliment, you thought. Maybe you would’ve grinned cheekily if you had the energy, but you don’t.

“Wow.” That’s all you could utter.

You could hear him huff as if he was regretting what he said.

“Just don’t get all romantic and don’t sleep on my shoulder.” He mumbled, the sound of turning pages starting again.

“I don’t want your cooties either.”

“Good night, Seiu.”

You both snorted out loud.

It was P.E., and another class had joined yours’ to play.

It was a warming-up session, and everyone needed to jog a few laps before playing.

You weren’t exactly the sporty type that had a lot of stamina, and you never liked running. The summer was taking a toll on you again, and you were slower than usual— than everyone. You were at the very back when the other girls were a few meters away. You’re not too slow, but not that fast enough.

Behind you were the boys, from your class and the other. You didn’t pay much to them and kept jogging.

You did notice a couple of times that Tsukishima was staring at you, and even when you caught his gaze, his eyes were still on you. It was nothing new, just that same old glare he always gives you.

You heard laughter erupting from behind, footsteps becoming louder as a group of guys caught up beside you. One of them pushed the other and he ended up bumping into you hard. You fell, scraping your knee and palms in the process.

All you heard next was laughter. Mocking ones, from both the guys and— whom you thought was— your friends.

It turns out the one who bumped into you was someone you had a few problems with in the past. He was your… not enough to be a former lover, far from a friend but yet, he’s no stranger. He held a grudge against you, it seems.

The guy laughed along, as well.

It was only for a few seconds the scene unfolded, but it felt like an eternity of humiliation.

Did Tsukishima join them?

You slowly got yourself up, the burn in your knee only increasing with each inch you elevated from the ground.

Halfway through, someone grabbed your upper arm and shoulder tight, slowly helping you up. Those pale, slender arms..

Tsukishima.

Exaggerated gasps were heard, and whispers were accentuated. Honestly, you would’ve acted the same way, if you were them.

Tsukishima… helped. He didn’t make fun of you.

You heard him click his tongue, and you raised your head just enough to see the scowl on his face, and the way he glared at the guys from earlier.

“Can’t you fucking see she was next to you?” He cursed, and everyone fell silent. Everyone was always a little wary of him, even scared. His height was intimidating, but seeing him in such a way was a lot scarier.

Even you haven’t seen him this angry.

The teacher jogged over, a tense expression on his face.

“Tsukishima-kun, enough. You can go on and I’ll put her aside—“

“Don’t bother, sensei.” He quickly cut the teacher off, eyes glued to the fuckers that were too irrelevant to be in the same place as he is.

“I don’t feel like playing football with people who are clearly blind.” He snickered, almost mocking them.

He brought you under a tree, and you freed your wrist from his grasp and slumped against the tree. Your head was down low as if the skin of your legs had some ancient scripture that you were so persistent on staring at. A large shadow emerged, and turns out it was him standing in front of you with his hands on his hips, eyes ahead staring at the other students.

Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry.

“Don’t worry.” He tried to reassure, but he sounded a little too bitter— he’s not used to it. “I won’t let them see how ugly you are when you cry.”

You cried anyway.

“Know how to treat a wound?” He asked as if he wouldn’t already do it himself as he rummaged through the cabinets.

Your silence in speaking and a few sniffles are enough to tell.

He sighed, reaching for a box filled with stuff that’ll help heal your wound— only on the outside, though. It’ll only help what’s on the surface, only helping your scraped skin, but the humiliation inside? Who knows how long the tear of your heart will last? Who knows who is going to tape it up for you, saying everything will be okay?

A small part of your heart’s tear was stitched up already at the sight of him getting down on one knee in front of you, getting the band-aids, antiseptic, tweezers, and cotton wools out.

“What’s the point in hiring nurses if they’re just never going to show up to work?” He rambled on like an old grandma, complaining how he needed to do everything himself.

But really, even if the nurses were here and you were being tended to, he’ll never really leave you. He’s treating you like you needed all the help in the world as if you were in a coma or something.

The rustling of the bed sheets when you squirmed, the annoyingly strong scent of the antiseptic throughout the whole room, and Tsukishima’s rambles as he treated your wound made you… strangely emotional.

Your shoulders shook rather violently, and your gaze blurred with the salty liquid once again.

His eyes widened upon taking in your appearance, drawing the cotton wool soaked with medicine away from your wound as quickly as time allowed it.

“Woah, woah, woah, hey! Does it hurt that bad?!” He almost yelled, and did he not panic like the world was going to end.

“Okay, look— okay I’ll stop! I told you to prepare yourself beforehand—”

“Arigato, Tsukishima-kun.”

You wailed like your life had crumbled— looking back, it was kind of funny with the snot and everything, he’ll definitely tease you for that later— and you sobbed your heart away. You didn’t even cry like this when a relative died but you cried when someone insisted on treating your wound? Wow.

And Tsukishima? His face could be taken as pure gold. He was dumbfounded, with wide eyes while staring at you crying like so. In literal words, it’s best to say he malfunctioned. You were crying way harder than before, you’re crying harder now than when you fell!

You keep sucking back in the snot that threatens to goo down their way, wiping your tears rather harshly, but it kept coming down anyway. It was embarrassing, but you couldn’t stop crying.

You heard him sigh.

“You’re disgusting, Seiu.” He said, though not much disgust was evident in his voice.

You felt a soft cloth arrive on your face, the fabric particularly covering your nose. You stopped your wail and looked at him, blinking rapidly as you were confused about what he was trying to do.

“Blow it out.” He said defeatedly, sighing as he looked away.

Sprettttt!

He crunched his nose upon hearing the noise, his glasses lifted slightly in the process before settling down to its original position.

“Again.”

Sprreettttttttt!

“I kind of feel bad for Seiu.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, and so did Tsukishima.

It was that group of guys again, and the one who spoke was the one that, well… the one that bumped into you.

“You still like her?” One of his friends said, and the others fell silent.

You both were standing on the top of the stairs like a fool, like deers caught in the headlights. But the question is, why did Tsukishima stop too?!

“I don’t!” He quickly denied but the others burst out into laughter and a series of teasing ‘oooh's.

Your class was just right there. Why did they have to walk through the hallway where your class was located, when there were a dozen others? You don’t want to come across them! Your cheeks were puffy, your eyes were red. You didn’t want them to know you cried, especially not when they were the reason. (Well, partly of the reason).

“Seiu’s quite sensitive. What if she’s like.. I don’t know!” He grumbled.

“Aw, you worried that she cried? You still like her!” Another laughter erupted.

“That’s her class, isn’t it? Where is she?”

They were peeking through the windows, but of course, you’re not there, you’re hiding in the corner of the hallway like a fool.

“She’s not there.” One said, confused.

“Oi… Tsukishima’s not there either.” Some of them gasped, and some of them went silent.

“I think.. Seiu and Tsukishima—”

Tsukishima grabbed your hand, his gaze hard. He wasn’t looking at you though, but just staring into the clear windows in front of you both, as if he was waiting to get caught or.. as if he was ready to do something.

“Don’t say things like that!” The guy defensively said, his voice raising an octave. He still has feelings for you, it seems.

“But don’t you think it makes sense? They’re always together,”

They’re getting closer. Their footsteps are getting louder, and your body just tensed. Tsukishima squeezed your hand harder, and you looked at him through your sore, reddish eyes.

You wanted to get out of here, but you can’t just run to somewhere else in the building. You need to get into class, and it’s almost time. You’ll get a cleaning punishment if you’re late, and you don’t want to involve Tsukishima in any of it already. He’s done more than enough.

“—For the last time, they are not!” They were just around the corner, and their shoes came into your sight.

“I just.. I just want to apologize to Seiu and—”

Everything shut down.

Your ears were ringing, succumbing to a forced silence, your whole body refusing to react to anything else.

Your back against the wall.

His hand on your waist.

Your glasses clashing onto each other’s.

His lips on top of yours.

Tsukishima… was kissing you.

Shielding you, almost.

A loud, erratic pair of footsteps ran to the opposite side, kicking you both out to reality once again.

Then followed by a few others.

The ringing slowly subsided, and your irises moved.

Oh, they’re gone.

Your irises drifted to the ones in front of you, the pair being the most nastiest, gorgeous golden brown eyes you have ever seen.

His eyes have twinkles in them.

Don’t know if it has always been there or if you only noticed it now, but it’s pretty.

Ethereal.

The loud ring of the school bell rang, and you both flinched and covered your ears— you’re literally below one.

It snapped you back to the current situation. For real, this time.

Wide eyes, you looked at him, gasping.

A little too late to act shocked now, but oh well.

“Why did you do that?!” You yelled into his face, mouth agape. He seems just as shocked as you were, cheeks painted with crimson tints.

“Did you think I wanted to?!” He looked away, eyes frantic.

“Your germs…” He covered his lips with his hand, wiping it down gently with his palm. “Ew.” He stared at his palm blankly.

Is that a cover-up… or was he actually disgusted?

You bolted into class.

And so did he. (Well, after a few seconds of standing there like a pole).

You couldn't help but glance at him throughout the entire day, barely even focusing on what's been taught ahead of you. You kept fidgeting with whatever you could, with your fingers, sliding your feet from one place to the other and whatnot.

No matter how much you tried, your gaze would return to him.

You saw how he'd stare at you from the corners of his eyes, albeit you pretended not to notice. You noticed how he glided his fingertips over his lips, over and over. You noticed how he zoned out, just like you did.

He barely ever loses focus.

Was he thinking of the kiss, just like how you did?

You had hoped that was the case so you wouldn't be the only one who looked like a dumbstruck, confused fool. And you just prayed that he wouldn't pretend as if nothing had happened because it wasn't. It was one hell of a situation to just throw it over your heads as if it wasn't anything— you both seriously need to talk.

Without noticing, the vibrant azure skies turned orange, and the familiar tone of ringing echoed through the school's speakers, noting that it was time to return home.

You got up as slow as you could, eyeing Tsukishima who was frozen in his seat. You packed your things and shoved them into your bag, the chair screeching quietly across the floor as you stood up.

"Tsukki." Your voice knocked him back from his series of pondering, flinching upon hearing you speak. He looked at you, almost nervous.

"Yeah?"

"Time to go home." You mumbled, stating the obvious. Might as well mention that the grass is green.

He packed his bag in no rush. It was as if he was trying to slow down his moves, though his intentions remained unclear. He looked guilty almost, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"We need to talk about earlier." You blurted out, and he froze. His bent figure slowly straightened, and a long shadow of his figure emerged and decorated the walls— how did you even manage to catch that? Well, maybe because you were looking at everything but his eyes.

"I thought you didn't want to talk about it." He mumbled, finally facing you. He stared down at you before looking away, scratching at the back of his head.

You took a few steps backward, sitting against the still of an opened window. The wind gushes through your air, making you shiver slightly. The heat was no joke, and the intensity of the situation only escalated it.

"How could I not?" Your voice turned quiet as you stared at the ground. "I can't just go on and pretend nothing happened." You began fiddling with your fingers.

"Why did you do it?" You whispered almost shakily.

"I don't know." He whispered back.

"Do you... like me?"

Not once did it ever cross your mind to have feelings for him, but now you knew. Now you know why at certain times you tend to be so observant of every little thing that he does. Like how beautiful his eyes look under the sunlight, how gently he turns the pages of your paper sheets as if he was afraid to leave a single crumple, how he manages to insult you every time but never goes too far to actually hurt your feelings—

Now you knew.

The pounding of your heart was because of him. The very presence of him around you calms you down like after a storm and yet manages to roar it wildly and harder than ever.

You, Seiu, have fallen for him.

Your question was left hanging with no audible answer that left his mouth. Silence.

Something bottled up inside you and it was going to explode.

"I can't believe you." You snarled and gripped the metal still of the window. "Is kissing a random girl in the name of helping just so normal to you? Is that how you help? Without even considering how she feels— how I feel?"

"Seiu—"

"For you, it might not be anything important," You sniffled, tears rolling down. You lost count of how many times you cried. "But it is important, for me—"

Your breath hitched when his lips landed on yours again.

Damn, at least let me finish. You thought.

His fingers crept onto your cheeks, cradling them ever so gently. His thumb wiped away the tears wetting your skin. He tilted his head to get a better angle and his kiss got softer by each second.

"Can't you at least kiss me back?" He mumbled against your lips, eyes still closed as if he was afraid to see your reaction.

You finally closed your eyes, moving your lips again his own by following an unknown flow. The second he got a response from you, his other hand pulled you in closer by your waist, pressing your bodies together. The sudden touch combined with the wind that attacked your back made you shiver. His hand moved and pressed onto your back, rubbing up and down to soothe you.

You let out a shaky breath through your nose, and the wave of relief and pleasure spread throughout your body into every vein and muscle. Your hands found their way linked at the back of his head in which you daringly pulled him closer.

You couldn't get enough. Kiss after kiss, breath after breath, you caught his lips again once you both sucked in a breath to continue. His glasses kept clashing with yours with every movement, and he attempted to take it off.

"It's okay, leave them on." You mumbled and took his hand away. You love his square glasses. You'd never want him to take it off.

He only smirked against your lips, the adorable sharp fang of his showing. "You didn't even let me finish earlier, and now you just can't stop, can't you?" He sighed and pressed his lips to yours again.

"And yeah, I like you, Seiu."

#—lunexrin #tsukishima kei #slow burn #shoujo #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei x you #tsukishima kei x y/n #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu #haikyuu x y/n

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justagalwhowrites · 7 months

Text

Yearling - Ch. 14: Time

You and Joel go on your first overnight patrol. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-13 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Violence against animals (not thoroughly described); canon-typical violence; canon-typical torture. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only

Length: 7.4k

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

September 15, 2023

Time.

What you needed was time, that’s it, you had to buy time, enough time for any of it to matter.

Hercules was your largest horse. Your fastest but the hardest to control, the one with the biggest stride, the one you thought it would take more than one shot to take down. So you’d taken him.

Time, you just needed more fucking time.

You whistled and Ruger howled back. You shifted Hercules, going for the sound. She’d have at least some of them in her sights. You pushed the horse faster, harder, feeling his heavy breaths from your position on his back.

He was running full tilt when the gunshot cracked through the air. It was sharp and clear and you could hear the bullet as it passed you. You slung your rifle from over your shoulder and shifted the horse with your legs and body weight, the reins falling to his neck. A bullet whizzed past where your horse had been just a moment before but it was enough to give you an idea of the source and you caught a glimpse of him, a man in forest green and brown but the white of his skin caught your eye. You lifted the gun quickly and shot. He dropped and you whistled again, another howl from Ruger in response. You followed it.

Your dog wasn’t far, tracking a group of about a dozen men from the trees. Her muzzle was bloodied which didn’t surprise you. You’d been tipped off to the attack by her sister, Gattling, running to the cabins with a chunk of flesh dangling from her jaws.

It felt like you hadn’t breathed since then, jumping into action to do everything you could to protect your home, protect what mattered.

But there was only so much you could do against numbers like this. All you could really hope to do was buy time.

“Ruger,” you kept your voice low, the men just 100 feet away through the forest. You doubted you’d even see them if you didn’t know the area, didn’t know how to hunt and stalk through the brush. Her head snapped toward you. “Heel.”

She slid obediently alongside the legs of your horse and you pressed Hercules quietly forward. You turned your horse so you could push him in another direction as soon as your shot was clear, took a deep breath, and fired.

The men reacted quickly, but you were faster, not waiting to see if your shot found its target. staying low on your horse and pushing him back behind the group. They didn’t see you cut around behind them and you were able to line up your shot more freely that time, taking aim at a man toward the center.

“There’s gotta be two!” One yelled as you took off around the other side.

“Nah, just the bitch,” another man said. The leader, you were pretty sure, the man who had showed up at the edge of your land just days before on a horse, asking to trade for more. But he rubbed you the wrong way, the way his eyes ranged over you, his entitlement. You weren’t going to invite him closer to your home, you weren’t going to trade with him.

You hadn’t expected him to come back with this many others.

“She’s a feisty one,” he said. “Ain’t ya, Texas?”

You ground your teeth, lining up for another shot.

“Don’t want us getting any closer to whatever set up you’ve got back there, do ya?” He called, taunting. You pulled the trigger. A man on the end dropped. “You really think you can outlast us? You moved too quick on those first two shots so you’re one in three and I got more men, Baby Doll. We’ll get ya, don’t you worry that pretty little head.”

“Fuck you!” You bit out, shooting another man, not bothering to move this time. The men were changing position, turning to face you, taking cover. You looked down at your dog, still glued to Hercules’ side. “Ruger, Attack.”

She launched forward, a bullet from the gun that was her namesake, snarling and racing for the man who was closest. She hurtled herself against him just as you got off another shot, dropping another man.

The man Ruger attacked screamed and you watched him go down.

“Someone get this fucking dog!” He shrieked.

“Ruger, kill!” You yelled to her, aiming again. But when you pulled the trigger, it jammed. You tried to force it again and again but it wasn’t going.

It was an old gun, you’d had it since the earliest days of the outbreak and it was hardly new then. You weren’t surprised that something had gone wrong. You just wished it had picked any other time. You hadn’t taken your handgun or shot gun. You were down to this and your knife.

You adjusted your hold on the weapon so the butt of the gun was facing out and roared, charging forward on Hercules as you heard the bloody gurgle of Ruger finishing her victim.

“There!” A man yelled, someone finally getting a bead on you through the brush.

“Want her alive!” The man in the lead yelled. “Just shoot the fuckin’ horse!”

You plowed forward anyway, you didn’t have much choice, landing a hit on a man with the butt of your gun, sending him flying with the force of it as you tore past on Hercules.

For half a moment, you wondered if maybe - just maybe - you could pull this off. Their numbers had taken a hit, if you could get through the group, send Ruger after another one or two, draw them to you on your terms…

And the first shot hit Hercules.

His steps stuttered and he let out a pained cry but he kept going as you raised your gun to strike another man. Then another shot caught him, right in the chest near the base of his neck, and his legs buckled, sending you flying forward over his head, tumbling onto the ground.

It only took a second for hands to be on you and you shrieked and kicked and swung blindly with your gun but it was quickly wrested away.

There was a vicious snarl and Ruger tore into the fray, latching her teeth around a man’s forearm. He released you and screamed, the sound earsplitting, followed by the crack of a gunshot and a sharp whimper.

“No!” You shrieked, trying to throw the men off you but they held you in place so you couldn’t even see her, just hear her pained, afraid sounds. “It’s OK, you’re such a good girl, it’s OK…”

The man who had showed up days before prowled forward and grabbed your chin, smirking as he leaned over you. Even in the dim light of the forest at dusk you could see the sickening look on his face. Like you were something he was about to consume.

“You’re even prettier up close,” he said. “Think you’ll be lots of fun.”

“Try it,” you hissed through your teeth. “Bite your fuckin’ dick off.”

“How about you cooperate,” he said. “Or we go see just what it is you’re hiding up at that homestead of yours.”

You just panted for breath glaring at him.

“That’s what I thought.”

You tried to think of how long it had been since Gattling ran up to you, part of a man’s body dangling from her teeth.

You just hoped you’d bought enough time.

August 3, 2026

“You really don’t have anything to be worried about.”

Ellie was perched on a rail as you worked with the last of the feral horses, Artemis. You’d gotten her to dumb broke but she still needed a little time to get her the rest of the way.

“I’m not worried,” you said, guiding Artemis in a zig-zagging pattern through the paddock.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Ellie rolled her eyes.

“Shut it, kid,” you glared at her. “I’m not.”

“Well, you’re acting fucky,” she said. “From everything I’ve heard about overnight patrols, they’re basically like camping and shit.”

“The fuck do you know about camping?” You asked, bringing the horse back around. “Didn’t you grow up in a QZ as a sad little orphan?”

“Ha ha,” she rolled her eyes again. She was such a teenager. “I can read, you know, I know what camping was. And everyone who goes on the overnight patrols make them sound fun and shit. Get out of town for a night, be in the woods, maybe shoot an infected or two…”

“Sounds like a blast,” you brought the horse around to her. “Want to give her a go? She’s in a good groove.”

“Hell yeah!”

You dismounted and held the reins while Ellie got situated on her back. You gave her a quick reminder of the ways to guide the horse, telling her she might need a second to respond to commands or something a little firmer than she was used to giving with Shimmer.

“I’ve got it, geez Mom,” she teased. You mockingly mouthed the words back at her as you handed her the reins. You stuck close as she took Artemis around the paddock. “You worry too much.”

“Stop acting like a stupid teenager and I won’t worry,” you replied.

“Hey, I wasn’t even talking about that!” She said, indignant. You’d yelled at her the day before when you’d caught her climbing on the roof of the stable to get a frisbee down for some kids who’d been playing in the street nearby. She’d acted personally offended that you’d had the audacity to think she might break her neck doing shit like that. “I mean, you worry too much about shit like the patrol. I can tell you’re basically freaking the fuck out…”

“Am not!”

“And I’m telling you, you have nothing to worry about,” she said. “It’s cool. We haven’t lost someone on patrol in a long time. You don’t need to worry about that.”

“You realize that I lived, on my own, in the wild, for longer than you’ve been alive, right?” You asked, brows raised. “Watch your legs, you’re relaxing them too much, you need to keep your knees in closer.” She adjusted. “Being outside overnight doesn’t bother me.”

“So what’s got you all fucky?” She asked.

“Nothing,” you lied. “Will you focus on the horse, please? Gonna get yourself hurt because you’re not paying attention.”

“Whatever you say,” she said, skeptical of all of it.

She was right to be. You were freaking out but not about the patrol part. About being outside, alone, with Joel.

Things had felt… different with him since the Simon incident. You’d already been close, already took comfort in sleeping next to him when running down the feral horses, already liked having him close by and liked feeling his hand against your back or at your hip.

But it was different now. It had gone from a comfort to a need. He hadn’t slept over since the night he came back from killing Simon and Ben and you missed him there next to you. It was hard to sleep without him there, your mind kept drifting to what he felt like pressed against you, his hand on your skin. The way you felt when looking at him, wanting to press your lips to his, wanting him to put his hands on you and pull you tight against him.

Part of you wondered if this is what it had always been like when you wanted someone before. It felt bigger now, headier, more dangerous. How much of that was because it was Joel and how much you cared for him? How much of it was the thrill of fear that ran through you when you thought of your body under the control of anyone but yourself?

The fear didn’t seem to dull the hot, throbbing want that was starting to take hold of you the moment you gave it a chance to blossom. You’d try to fall asleep and the image of your hands on Joel’s face, pulling him in to more devour your lips than kiss them as he pulled at your clothes was there, ready and eager. He’d look at you to make some silent comment on something, his brows raised, slight smile on his lips starting to make the edges of his eyes crinkle and you’d feel part of yourself get tight and achy and you were suddenly imagining what it would feel like to have his mouth on your breasts, your stomach, your sex. You had to fight the thoughts away, alarm bells ringing in the one part of your brain that didn’t seem to be drowning in want.

It was easy to picture what you would have done before. Before the outbreak, before Mitchum, before you were who you were now. You’d have gone up to him and made some smart assed remark and asked if he wanted to fuck and he would almost certainly say yes. You’d never had a man turn you down. And then you would fuck him and be at least somewhat sated and you could move on with your life. Or at least have a regular outlet if you weren’t.

But that wasn’t an option. You weren’t sure it would ever be an option with someone like Joel, someone who seemed so capable of swallowing you whole, of taking your entire being into himself and remaking you into something you didn’t recognize anymore. But it really wasn’t an option now. The thought of throwing yourself at him only to panic once his large hands cupped your breasts, the idea of him seeing the brand at your hip and seeing you like property, the notion of someone you cared so deeply for being the cause of that much fear and it tainting one of the only good things you’d found in the last few years.

That was too big a risk.

Your body didn’t seem to understand that.

Being alone, outside, with Joel, nowhere else to go? It was dangerous. It felt dangerous. But you had to do it. You had no reason not to. You’d just have to figure it out.

You didn’t sleep well the night before leaving for patrol, something you were sure was going to bode well. At least you’d be too tired by the time you stopped for the night for anything else to sound even remotely appealing.

“Alright,” you said, riding alongside Joel away from Jackson in the cool morning air. The trees were shrouded in fog, the insects and birds still quiet. “Walk me through it one more time.”

“We have one path out to the ski lodge,” he said. “We check up on anything we find out that way. We’ll probably run into a few infected this time of year but not much else. Should get to the lodge in time for dinner. We spend the night there. Come back to town a different route in the morning.”

“Right,” you said, trying to relax as you sat astride Renaissance. “Easy enough.”

“Specially for a deadeye like you,” Joel teased. “Had to do this route with Tommy before, it’s a wonder we survived.”

You huffed a small laugh.

“You telling me he’s not shooting infected from half a mile off after walking to school up hill both ways through the snow?”

Joel laughed back.

“Afraid not,” he said. “And he has no damn excuse, not with that scope…”

It didn’t take long for you to wonder just what it was you’d been anxious about. It was Joel. Just Joel. Your best friend, the person you trusted more than anyone else, the only person you wanted to be around just about all the time. It was going to be fine.

It was close to ten when you came across a few infected, a group of three. They looked to be recently turned, a man, a woman and someone who couldn’t be any older than Ellie. They looked almost disturbingly human compared to the clickers you usually were taking potshots at. They looked like a family.

Joel sighed heavily.

“Hate ones like this,” he said, lining up his rifle. “We need to clear out the ones who are bitin’ folks like this. You take the man, I’ve got the woman and kid.”

You nodded grimly, taking aim and blowing the head off the man. Joel killed the woman just as she turned to roar and run toward you and she fell, leaving just the kid. He hesitated.

“I can…” you said quietly.

“I got it,” he replied, voice gruff. He took the shot and the girl dropped.

“It’s a mercy,” you said, watching him as he slung his rifle over his shoulder again.

“I know,” he sighed. “Don’t make it any easier shootin’ a kid.”

You looked back toward where you knew the bodies were, part of you wanting to dig graves for the people they’d once been.

You just pressed on, Joel quiet for a while, face drawn. After a while, you started humming Born to Run and he looked at you, smiling just a little.

“What?” You asked.

“Springsteen, huh?”

“Well,” you shrugged. “Tramps like us…”

He smiled a little bigger, seeming a bit more like himself.

You stopped for lunch in the early afternoon, tucked against the thick trunk of a tree, the forest floor cool and calm, the sound of birds and bugs on the air. You leaned against Joel’s side, your legs straight out ahead of you so that your foot drooped onto his shin as you ate a peach, wiping the juice on the back of your wrist.

“Fuck I haven’t been this far out from Jackson like this in so long,” you said, looking out at the plants. Everything was cast in a dappled green hue, the soft light filtering down through the canopy. “It feels… I dunno, different somehow. I’ve done patrol before of course but…”

“I get it,” Joel said after you trailed off. “Kind of like just going for a hike when you lived in the city before.”

“Right,” you said. “Like we’re so disconnected from everything back there. Might as well be another world.”

You pulled the last of the flesh from the pit of the peach with your teeth and sucked your thumb clean.

“I used to just… live like this,” you sighed, shaking your head a little before you dropped it to Joel’s shoulder. “Seems like forever ago.”

He paused for a moment.

“Do you miss it?”

You thought, turning the sticky stone over in your fingers, feeling the ridges of it against your thumb.

“I don’t know,” you said eventually. “There are things about it I miss but what I miss most I could just… pick up and move to Jackson. It’s not like I have to be in the middle of nowhere just…” You sighed. “I do miss being this close to nature sometimes. I was never a city girl. Jackson’s hardly a metropolis but every now and then I look around and think ‘fuck there are a lot of people.’”

Joel was quiet for a bit.

“But you’ve stayed.”

It wasn’t a question, more of a statement, but you nodded anyway.

“Yeah,” you said. “I have. I… I like Jackson. The people are good, it’s quiet, I get to work with horses and help people while doing it. I have you.”

You glanced up at him for a moment when you said it but looked forward again quickly, not sure that you wanted to see what he’d think of his inclusion on the list. You threw the pit into the brush.

“I’m glad you stayed,” he said quietly.

“Just because I’m not about to let Ellie get killed by a horse?” You teased a little.

He laughed.

“Doesn’t hurt. But no, definitely not just that.”

You smiled a little when you heard a twig snap. Your head shot up and Joel all but leapt to his feet, tucking you behind him once you were up, too.

Your heartbeat got faster. The patrols that had gone out to investigate the X you’d found on the tree couldn’t track any recent paths. There was no way of knowing if it was raiders or just a person or two passing through, looking for a place to settle. After a few days, they’d given up until there was more to go off of. You’d hoped that there wouldn’t be.

“Joel,” you said quietly, getting your rifle out from Renaissance’s saddle. “Have there been raiders on this route before?”

“Years ago,” he said quietly. “Could be nothin’ but… Stay behind me, let me do the talkin’.”

There was another snap and you were able to locate the sound better than the first time, now that you were on alert and your ears were listening for it.

Joel moved quickly, stepping around you to be between you and the horses you could make out through the trees now. You kept your rifle aimed at the ground and peered around him, watching as the seven men rode up. All middle aged, all large, all armed. They were slow, confident. You adjusted your grip on your rifle and tightened your jaw.

“Somethin’ happens,” Joel said, not looking back at you, his voice low and quiet. “Take a horse, get back to Jackson as quick as you can.”

“Joel…”

“I mean it,” he looked back over his shoulder at you. “Don’t do anything stupid. I’ll buy you time, get the fuck away from here.”

You leaned around Joel to untie Ares and Renaissance from the tree you’d bound them to, looping their reins over your arm, their large bodies feeling oddly hot at your back.

“Howdy stranger,” the man at the center called out as he approached. “Sure would appreciate you puttin’ that rifle down.”

“Gimme a reason to and I will,” Joel said. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“Just a group of friends passin’ through,” the man said. You fought to not go plant yourself next to Joel. You didn’t want to leave him standing alone but you knew that, regardless of how capable you were, if these men saw you as a commodity, you would be a liability. You stayed put. “Haven’t spent much time around these parts, know the area well?”

“Well enough,” Joel said. “There’s a river, about 20 miles east. You’re gonna want to find it, cross it and keep going. It’ll keep you outta trouble.”

“That sounds an awful lot like a threat for a man outnumber seven to one,” the man’s fake smile was fading.

“Seven to two,” you snapped, unable to stop yourself.

The man stood up a little in his saddle to take a better look at you before he smirked and sat back again.

“Don’t think your little deer there counts as extra muscle,” he said.

“Seven to one, seven to two,” Joel shrugged. “No difference to me. Like those odds either way. Head on over to the river and be on your way and we won’t have any problems here.”

“Seems like there’s plenty of open country for all of us,” he replied. “Unless you’ve got something you’re protectin’.”

“Something besides your little toy of course,” a different man spoke this time, the sound of heavy footfalls as his horse stepped forward. His voice was familiar, in a way that made your stomach turn. You swallowed and peered around Joel. The man leaned over on his horse and looked you up and down. Joel glanced behind him to you and adjusted again, blocking their view.

“Not going to tolerate you talkin’ to her like that,” Joel said, his voice strained and rough. “We’ve been around this area for a while. It’s ours. We decide if there’s enough room and there’s not. Move. Along.”

“You look familiar,” the second man said, adjusting his horse again and you could just see him, frowning down at you. You narrowed your eyes, heart pounding, praying to a god you didn’t believe in that he couldn’t place you.

“Last chance,” Joel growled.

The man’s face shifted, from questioning to recognition. For just a moment, it felt like you were going to throw up.

“I know you,” he said, smirking. “You’re Mitchum’s favorite doll! Oh, he’s been looking for you…”

“Shut up,” you hissed, teeth clenched. You dropped the reins and raised your rifle, stepping around Joel to get a clear shot. You fought to keep your breathing under control, to keep from devolving into the anger that was licking its way through your veins and trying to swallow you whole.

“She as good for you as she was for me?” He asked Joel with a laugh. He didn’t wait for a response. “Mitchum’s been looking everywhere for you. Bet he’d let me have another go if I brought you back…”

“Shut the fuck up!” Your finger moved to the trigger, but the man in the middle of the group rode up in between the two of you.

“Now now,” he said calmly. “No need for any bloodshed…” He turned his attention back to Joel. “Sure you didn’t mean nothin’ by it, but it sounds like your little… friend here belongs to someone else. We’ll take her back with us and…”

Joel shot before the man even finished speaking, the bullet catching him in the chest and sending him slumping over and off his horse with a thud.

The group was still and silent and you gaped at Joel, your gun still pointed in the direction of the man you recognized.

Joel turned his gun to the next man closest to the middle.

“She ain’t property,” he said. “I got no problems killing every last one of you. Could use the practice. Get the fuck out or I’ll kill you. Last chance.”

You looked back at the men, your rifle up, as they looked between each other, weighing their chances.

The one you recognized’s hand drifted to his side arm before he spoke.

“Think we’ll take the doll and be on our way.”

He started moving just as you fired and your shot went wide, hitting the man on the other side of him. Joel shot, too, before screaming at you to run.

You weren’t going to listen. At least, not at first. Joel threw you behind a tree and followed before he fired again, his shot making contact this time and dropping another man, already moving another bullet into the chamber.

The man you recognized seemed to change his mind about coming for you, instead turning his horse and starting to take off in the opposite direction.

You weren’t about to let him.

You shoved the rifle back into its spot on your saddle and jumped onto Renaissance, urging her almost immediately into a gallup to run down the man.

He had a decent enough head start and, when you were getting close to him again, you could barely hear the commotion behind you, just the crack of gunshots.

Catching him was going to be tricky. He was riding fast, looking back over his shoulder at you, pushing his horse. There wasn’t a clear route to him, you were having to guide the horse through it all while trying to keep pace. You tried to not let your rage be the only thing driving you, tried to let your logical mind take hold again.

If you took advantage of a sloping hill you thought was ahead, you’d be able to gain some ground on him. You split off from him and pushed Renaissance toward where you remembered the gentle slope down to be before it got steeper later on, something he’d have to slow up on.

You were right and you could hear him, not far away, the thundering hooves and the gasping breaths, even though you couldn’t quite see him through the thick of the forest. It was quiet behind you now and you tried not to think about what that might mean. You had to stop this man. If he knew where you were, he’d get more men and come after you. If Mitchum really wanted you back that bad, he’d come for you.

You weren’t going to let him take you, not again.

You broke through the trees, just feet behind him now instead of yards and he looked back over his shoulder, his eyes wide. He started fumbling for the gun at his waist but you pulled up alongside him and did the only thing you could really think to do. You jumped, leaping from the back of your horse and into him, slamming into him with all your weight and knocking him out of the saddle, both of you careening toward the earth until you landed with a heavy thud, the two of you tumbling through the undergrowth until you stopped, him awkwardly on top of you.

He smiled, eyes dark, down at you.

“So eager to come back home,” he panted. “Don’t think he’ll mind if I take my payment upfront…”

You roared and thrashed below his weight and he punched you across the face.

“Think your guard dog’s dead,” he said. “Not so tough are you now, baby doll?”

He leaned in close to you, so close that you could smell his breath and you slammed your head into his nose. You felt it collapse below your forehead and he yelped and instinctively jerked back from you, his hands clutching his face.

It was enough.

You wrenched your body over and he collapsed to the ground, still clutching his face as you all but jumped on top of him. You sat on his chest, ripping his hands back from his face and pinning his arms beneath your legs before you punched him the same way he punched you. He groaned and you smiled.

“Still think I’m good for you?” You could taste blood in your mouth as you panted for breath. You dug your nails into his cheeks until you felt his skin give and he shrieked and thrashed but your position was too solid, he couldn’t shake you, had no hope of reaching the most vulnerable parts of you as you dragged your fingertips through his flesh, leaving trails of red in their wake. “Am I your baby doll now? Huh?”

You pulled your hands from him, his skin below your nails, and wrapped your fingers around his throat, squeezing as his eyes went wide.

“Still think I feel good?” You couldn’t get your breathing to slow down but you didn’t care, your heart pounding against your ribs. “I remember you, you fuck, I remember all of you. Not so tough now that I’m not chained to a wall are you?”

His hands scratched uselessly against your upper arms, legs flailing behind you. He was gasping for breath, reminding you of a fish on a dock. His eyes were just as wide, his motions just as desperate, his being just as powerless.

“Bambi,” Joel’s hand appeared on your back, making you jump, loosening your grip on the man and he gasped for breath, sucking in air like a drowning man. You looked back at him, breathing heavy. Ares was at his side, you hadn’t even heard them approach. “Need you to stop.”

“Why,” you demanded, eyes narrowed, teeth clenched.

“Need information from him,” he said, kneeling beside you, his voice calm and even. You looked him up and down. He didn’t look hurt. “He’s the last one alive. Just need a few answers, then you can decide what happens to him.”

You looked at Joel for a moment, his eyes soft and open.

“Bambi,” he said quietly.

“Fine,” you snapped and Joel’s hand traveled down your back to your waist, guiding you off the man as he panted for breath.

“Help…” the man managed weakly, reaching for Joel, but Joel’s hand shot out, snatching his wrist out of the air. His large hands wrapped around the other man’s arm and he twisted until you heard a snap. The man screamed.

“Not here to help you,” Joel said, his voice almost eerily calm, so calm it sent a chill down your spine. “I’m here to get information and there’s only one way I know how to do it. You’re gonna want me to give you back to her by the time I’m done. So let’s begin.”

***

Joel dragged the man by his hair to a nearby tree and sat him up before he broke his other arm, too, just to be safe. He didn’t want to waste time tying him up but you knew he couldn’t throw many punches with a broken arm.

This wasn’t a part of himself he’d ever wanted you to see. It wasn’t a part of himself he was particularly fond of. Not of his willingness to do it to begin with, not of his skills, not of the way he picked it up to begin with.

But it was effective. And the important thing was keeping you safe.

Seeing you take off on Renaissance like that scared the shit out of him. Because of course you didn’t take off in the direction they’d been heading or even, really, back toward Jackson. No, you’d taken off after a fleeing man.

A man who said he knew you, who obviously horrified you.

Joel was desperate to get to you then. The way that man talked about you… he was not going to let him get his hands on you. If it was the last thing he did, he was going to protect you from him.

Thankfully, you were relatively easy to find. The man’s screams weren’t exactly quiet and he was able to find you quickly once he’d taken out the rest of the crew, leaving them dead on the forest floor.

“Look,” the man panted. “I don’t have to take her with me, alright? If you’re attached…”

“How many of you are there?” Joel cut him off. He wasn’t going to be able to get any answers out of this man if he heard him talk about you like you were nothing but an object, something to be owned and controlled. He’d kill him too fast.

“What?” He frowned and then winced, the bloody paths you’d cut into his face pulling and oozing.

“How many men,” Joel asked.

“I don’t…”

Joel sighed and freed his knife, thrusting it into the side of the man’s thigh. He screamed, so loud birds took off from nearby trees. Joel gave him a moment to catch his breath before he asked again.

“How. Many. Men.”

“About fifty,” he said quickly. “But miles from here, two days ride at least, we were sent out this way to scout…”

“Anyone else sent this way to scout?” Joel asked.

The man just looked at him, panting for breath. Joel twisted the knife in his leg and he screamed.

“Any. One. Else?” He demanded again.

“No one!” He said.

“How long was your team supposed to be gone?” He asked. The man hesitated and Joel pressed on the knife.

“Fuck, please! You can keep her, alright? I won’t eve tell Mitchum I found her, you can have her…”

Joel punched him across the face, his knuckles connecting with the cuts you’d made in his skin.

“Jesus Christ!” He managed as he gasped for breath. “Please…”

“Never understood why men like you think you’re gonna get mercy,” Joel said, grabbing his hair. “God washed his hands of your kind a while ago. I’m what comes for you instead and I don’t know mercy. So tell me, how long were you supposed to be gone?”

“A week!” He said quickly. “A week, we’re three days in and they won’t come looking for us if we all disappear, they’ll think we got infected or something, I promise…”

“What were you looking for?” Joel asked. “Lookin’ for her?”

“No,” the man panted and shook his head, wincing as he did. “No, we were looking for a new place to set up, maybe for the winter, I just know Mitchum’s been looking for her and offering…”

Joel cut him off.

“He have any idea where she is?”

“No,” he shook his head, quickly this time. “No, he has no idea, I swear he doesn’t know and I swear I won’t say anything, I promise I won’t…”

Joel laughed once, darkly.

“You’re not leavin’ here,” he said, ripping his knife from his leg. He actually looked surprised at that as Joel wiped the blood on the man’s jeans. “Told you, wasn’t here to help you.”

Joel looked around until he found you sitting against a tree, your legs pulled tightly to your chest. He looked back to the man for a moment. His legs were too intact. He stood and, for a moment, the man looked relieved. And then Joel brought all his weight down on the man’s shin, stomping on it, the bone snapping as the man screamed.

Satisfied, Joel went to you, sheathing the knife. Your eyes were wide and doe-like, afraid and watchful. He approached you slowly, keeping his hands where you could see them before he knelt a few feet away from you.

“Bambi,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm and even. “I’ve gotten what I need from him. You can have him now if you want him. He can’t leave here alive but how he dies is up to you.”

You nodded, pulling your eyes from Joel’s to look at the man. Joel glanced at his bleeding form, whimpering on the ground, before focusing on you.

“You’ve killed before,” Joel said.

“Yes,” you said quietly.

“Did it satisfy you?”

You stared into space for a moment, a dazed look on your face.

“No,” you said eventually, shaking your head. “I wanted it to but…”

“Did you like it?”

“No,” that you answered quickly. “No, it made me sick, I don’t…”

“Then tell me how you want him to die,” Joel cut you off. “And I’ll do it.”

“I want it to hurt,” your voice cracked. “I want him to fucking feel it.”

“OK,” Joel said gently.

“And I want to watch.”

“OK,” he said again, straightening up and offering you his hand. You took it and he pulled you to your feet. There was a cut at your cheek and he slowly, gently, reached his hand out and held your face, his palm curving over your wound. You closed your eyes and breathed deep, your hand covering his and holding it to you. “Come on, Sweetheart. Let’s finish this.”

He held your hand as the two of you went back to the man, who was still breathing heavily, still crying in pain.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said. “Please, I….”

“You hurt her once,” Joel cut him off. “She decides what happens to you now. And she said she wants it to hurt.”

He released your hand and freed his knife again.

“No,” the man shook his head. “No, I didn’t mean…”

He didn’t finish begging, Joel thrusting the blade deep into the man’s gut and he screamed. He twisted it before pulling it back out, looking up at you.

“Short or long?” He asked.

You looked at the man, examining him.

“Short,” you said after a moment. “I want to get the fuck out of here.”

Joel plunged the knife between the man’s ribs then, piercing a lung, and pulled it out before wiping it on the man’s clothes and sheathing it. He straightened up and stood beside you as you watched the man drown in his own blood, a cold and detached look on your face. After a few minutes, he was still and you were still watching him.

“Sweetheart,” Joel said softly, his hand delicately on your back.

You spat on the man’s body.

“Let’s go.”

***

Joel was right, you weren’t too far from the ski lodge. He helped you clean the blood from your face and quickly found Renaissance - who hadn’t gone far - before getting underway again. It only took another two hours to get there, much faster than going back to Jackson.

But there was the hot clutch of fear in you now, threatening to strangle you from the inside out, the tendrils of it reaching and threatening to take control. By the time you reached the ski lodge, you could hardly breathe. You jumped off Renaissance and Joel dismounted Ares, frowning as he came to your side. Your hand went to your chest, your neck.

“I can’t…” you managed, the first words you’d said in hours, fighting to get enough air to keep talking. Your heart was racing. “What’s happening? I… I can’t…”

“It’s OK,” Joel said, guiding you to a fallen tree and pulling you down onto it next to him. “Think you’re havin’ a panic attack, Sweetheart, you’re gonna be OK. Just gotta breathe deep, you’re OK. I’m going to touch you, alright?”

You nodded quickly and he delicately pulled you against him, his arms going around you, close enough that you could feel the rise and fall of his chest.

“Try to focus on my breathing,” he said gently. “Try to match it, OK?”

You closed your eyes and nodded as he took a deep, slow breath in and you tried to do the same. He held it for a moment before breathing out just as slowly and starting again.

“You’re OK,” he said gently. “You’re OK, I’ve got you. Not gonna let anything happen to you, you’re safe, you’re OK.”

You focused on his words, the sound of his voice, the feel of his breathing as you matched it to your own. After what felt like a small eternity, you felt like you could take a normal breath again, your heart no longer threatening to pound its way out of your chest.

Some part of you was still afraid. Afraid of how close you were to Joel, of how violent you’d just seen him be - violence you never would have thought him capable of if you hadn’t seen it yourself. Afraid of how out of control these feelings you had for him could be.

But that part of you was smaller than ever, a quiet whisper against the overwhelming sense of warmth and longing that you’d come to associate with Joel. He was so close to you then, he’d pulled you almost onto his lap, your legs draped over his thighs, your head tucked against his chest. In spite of everything that had happened that day, in spite of the fact that he was so big and strong that he could hurt you without even really trying, in spite of that part of you telling you that being this close to anyone was a danger, you felt safer than you had in years.

You pressed yourself closer to him, your nose buried in his neck.

“See Bambi?” He said gently, pulling away from you ever so slightly to look down at you. “You’re alright.”

He was so handsome. Maybe you just hadn’t seen enough people over the last 20 years but Joel was easily one of the most beautiful human beings you’d ever seen and he smelled like safety and home and you couldn’t help but reach your hand up to his cheek, your fingers dipping ever so slightly into his hairline.

“Joel,” you said softly.

“Sweetheart,” he breathed, his eyes searching your own. Your grip on him strengthened and you gently, slowly, tugged his face toward yours.

You couldn’t help it. It was something that was inevitable. Some part of it feeling like it was always meant to happen, like you’d been moving all your life toward specific points of time and this was one of them, a moment that was built into your genetic code.

You were always going to kiss Joel Miller. You’d been running toward it your whole life. There was no reason to deny it.

So you didn’t.

You kissed him then, his lips soft and gentle and warm on yours, his hands spreading wide over you to delicately, carefully, pull you closer.

And you knew, in that moment, your life would never be the same.

Next Chapter

A/N: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

THEY KISSED Y'ALL

FINALLY

IT ONLY TOOK 14 CHAPTERS OF WHAT WILL - EVENTUALLY I SWEAR - BE A FIC THAT HAS SMUT THEY KISSED.

I'M GONNA DIE!

Thank you thank you thank you for riding out this slow burn with me! I hope this felt right for these characters for you the way it did for me.

I do have an updates blog. Follow and subscribe for post alerts to get an alert whenever I post a new chapter! I promise I won't spam ya!

Thank you for reading and for interacting and for being here. I'm so behind on replying to comments but know that I've read them (they're some of my favorite pick-me-ups during my work day!) and I so appreciate them and I'll be getting caught up soon. I love you all so very much, thank you for making sharing this story so fun!

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#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #yearling #joel miller x oc #slow burn

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