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girlgenius1111 · 2 months

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just let go: chapter 4

Misa finally get her turn with you. Jenni is kind enough to share. Alexia doesn't enjoy not being the center of attention.

18+

warnings: strap on use. double penetration. anal. praise & degradation. dom / sub dynamics. orgasm delay / control. breeding kink. [i think that's it?]

haven't yet thanked everyone for sending in their very DETAILED requests. i truly appreciate it, it makes m job so much easier. also thank you to @vixwritesagain for giving me good ideas and generally being an Orgy Inspiration™

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Alexia's hands bat away Misa's own as she attempted to secure the harness to the younger woman's waist. It was an enticing sight, significantly more enticing than it should have been; the blonde's long fingers expertly tightening the straps over the goalkeeper's powerful thighs. As soon as Ale was done, Jenni was directing everyone where she wanted them. This was her show and everyone knew it, although there were varying degrees of defiance in all of you.

"Misa, niña bonita, lay on the bed." The striker turned her attention in your direction. "You, amor, on top of her, ass in the air."

Jenni barely gave her girlfriend a glance as she gave the blonde her instructions.

"Ale, there," Jenni instructed, nodding to the side of the bed not currently occupied by you and Misa, a fair distance away from anyone else. It was clear that Jenni had no intention for Alexia to participate in the next thing she was planning. You bit back a smirk, watching the blonde fold her arms, pouting slightly. Alexia caught your look anyway, and turned her glare towards you. Hastily you leaned down, pressing your lips to Misa's, quickly getting lost in the kiss, and forgetting about the blonde woman sitting a few feet from you.

Jenni wasn't paying attention to her girlfriend either, as she positioned herself behind you, hands just finding your back before she was interrupted.

"Jenni."

The forward still paid no attention to her girlfriend, stroking softly at your back.

"Jenni," Alexia called again, more insistently, and definitely more whiny this time. You and Misa broke apart, watching as, slowly, Jenni turned her head to face her girlfriend.

"What do you want, needy girl?"

Alexia's face grew red, not enjoying the extra attention, as she glared at the striker. "If you are in her ass, and Misa is in her pussy, where am I supposed to be?"

"Not everything needs to include you, amor. You just sit there and watch, yes?"

Alexia made a disapproving noise, sitting up more as if to move closer to the three of you. A single raised eyebrow from Jenni had her frozen in her tracks.

"Everyone else has watched, bonita. Are you going to be good and take your turn? Or are you going to be a brat, and make me punish you in front of our guests?"

Alexia scowled but sat back down on the bed. She was within touching distance of you and Misa, something you were sure she would take advantage of, once Jenni's attention was properly occupied.

"Listo?" Jenni asked, her hands beginning to spread you apart.

You nodded eagerly, jolting when you felt a lubed finger pressing against you. It slid in easily, as Jenni had already had it in before, and you exhaled happily, resting your head on Misa's collarbone.

"Misa, inside." Jenni instructed, and this time, you moaned in surprise when the goalkeeper obeyed, sliding into you all at once, her lips finding your pulse point, and sucking gently. She began to move right away, calloused hands lifting your hips, before bringing them back down.

Jenni stopped her though, shushing you softly as she pressed another finger into you.

"No, let her feel you inside her. Let her get used to it, before we fuck her wide open."

You looked down at Misa pleadingly, but the brunette had a smirk etched across her face, one you were sure Jenni was matching. Misa's hands held your hips down on her cock, as the forward worked your other hole open. Her fingers were long, reaching deep inside of you. Misa's strap was a stretch to begin with, one you would have struggled to take if you weren't so wet. Jenni's fingers were a lot, too, but it only felt good. Until a third finger teased over your rim, and you shifted, whining deep in your throat.

"You can take three." Jenni encouraged.

Until this point, the keeper had been content to watch you as you took Jenni's fingers, but she was getting impatient. Her hips bucked unconsciously, and you arched your back more, a sharp breath escaping your mouth.

"Not yet, Misa. Just let her sit on your cock. It makes her so desperate, so needy." Jenni's mocking tone made you blush, her words only making it worse. It was a good kind of humiliation, the kind that made you crave more. "We need her wet if we're going to fuck her at the same time."

It was this reminder that made Misa relent, and she settled for tugging your face away from her neck and pulling you into a kiss. She could feel it every time Jenni pressed deeper into you, feel the little breaths and sighs you let out into her mouth. Your tongue tangled with the goalkeepers, her mouth moving rhythmically against yours as you tried to relax your muscles, allowing Jenni in further.

"How do you feel, bonita?" Jenni asked, the hand that was not stretching you open running up and down your back soothingly.

You broke the kiss, breathing heavily. "Full."

"Full? No, not full yet. Alexia, grab my strap."

The ease with which the blonde did as her girlfriend asked would have been highly suspicious, if only anyone was paying attention to her. All three of you were rather preoccupied, though, Misa holding you down on top of her strap, Jenni working 3 fingers inside of you.

Jenni was rather startled, then, when Alexia didn’t just hand her the strap. Instead, she took the initiative to yank Jenni back away from you, capturing her in a messy, wet kiss. The forward was a willful person, but there wasn’t anyone on this earth strong enough to deny Alexia when she was handling them so roughly. You whined when Jenni’s fingers left you, but she paid no mind, keeping her attention on the pliant blonde pressed against her.

The midfielder’s hands secured the harness and dildo around Jenni’s hips, not needing to see what she was doing to get it on exactly right. The brunette broke the kiss after a minute smiling wolfishly at her girlfriend as she took the lube out of the blonde’s outstretched hand, and began to work it over her cock.

“Back to your spot, mi amor,” She instructed. Alexia only frowned, shaking her head.

“No.” She murmured, leaning back in towards Jenni’s face.

“No?” Jenni asked dangerously, leaning away from Alexia as she raised an eyebrow at her girlfriend’s defiance.

Something on the other woman's face stopped her from reacting like she normally would, and Jenni didn’t protest when Alexia moved to kneel behind her, wrapping her strong arms around the forward’s lean figure. If Alexia was ignoring Jenni’s specific instructions, it was clear that the midfielder needed the contact badly, and though normally strict with her girl, Jenni was not one to deny her something that she needed.

Still, Jenni paid Alexia very little mind as she turned her attention back to you, though she did tilt her neck just slightly, allowing her girlfriend better access to leave soft kisses on the skin there.

Misa had taken full advantage of Jenni’s distraction, very carefully working herself in and out of you, stopping when the forward turned her attention back in your direction. You were pliant in Misa’s arms, content to rest your head in the crook of her neck. That is, until you felt the blunt head of Jenni’s strap pressing against your hole.

You’d never taken 2 before. You’d taken fingers and a strap, yes, but this was an entirely different beast to conquer, and Jenni knew that very well. You would have been nervous, if there was any room for it. Squished between Jenni and Misa, though, and feeling one of Alexia’s hands splayed across your back from behind her girlfriend, you weren’t anything but excited.

You were already stretched wide open on Misa, truly dripping all over her, and Jenni hadn’t switched to the strap until she was absolutely sure you could take it. The stretch would burn, but you could, and would, take it.

“You want me, bonita? Misa stuffing your cunt full is not enough? You need me to fill you up too?” Jenni cooed, pressing the head into you, just barely. Jenni wouldn’t ever risk your comfort, she would take it slow until you begged her to speed up. You could only groan deep in your throat at her words, and Misa exhaled sharply at the sound. It was taking everything in her not to grind up into you.

“I asked you a question, cariño,” Jenni murmured, pressed in an inch further, though her nails raked down your back warningly. You shivered at the touch, struggling to find your voice.

“Need you too, J, need you both,” you managed, the words a soft mumble against Misa’s neck.

Jenni’s teasing didn’t relent. “Where do you need me, huh?” She pressed in more, enough that you were beginning to really feel it, feel both women inside of you. Her hands gripped your hips now, and the slight movements she was directing had you clenching around Misa’s strap.

“In my ass, Jenni, please,” you whimpered. At this, Jenni pushed herself all the way in, to the base, groaning herself at the sight in front of her.

“Tan apretada,” the forward said through gritted teeth, her head falling back onto Alexia’s shoulder, even as her cock stayed buried deep in you.

“Fuck, jesus,” you cried, hands gripping onto Misa’s sides.

“Shh, you can take it,” the keeper reassured, very tentatively fucking up into you, smiling to herself when you let out a keening whine, one that was unmistakably expressing your pleasure.

Jenni and Misa kept very different rhythms inside of you, but it didn’t matter, you felt your orgasm building within you. Jenni’s was a slow rock, never pulling out too far before pushing back in. It wasn’t the action of the fucking that made it good, it was the stretch, the burn, the feeling of being so fucking full. Misa’s pace was steady, though, quickening every minute that you fell apart on top of her.

Everyone was very focused on their roles, the room quiet except for the wet slide of both cocks in and out of you, all three of you breathing hard enough for it to be audible. One person, though, was not very busy. Alexia’s chin was resting on Jenni’s shoulder, and she was watching, as her girlfriend had instructed. Alexia could tell you were getting close, unsurprisingly, by the way your legs were trembling on each side of Misa, and the soft, quiet whines that were just barely escaping your mouth.

“Cariño,” she sang softly, her voice a soft lull washing over you. You hummed in acknowledgement, and Alexia smirked at the sound. “Are you close bebita?”

“Mmm hmm,” you replied. You were, and the feeling was almost entirely overwhelming. If an orgasm was a wave, this felt like a tsunami was about to wash over you, and you already felt your body beginning to tremble and jerk uncontrollably.

“You going to come for us? Make a mess? Already dripping all over Misa’s pretty legs, I bet you feel so good, huh?” Alexia and Jenni had a way of speaking to you that made you fold completely. Even if you hadn’t already been close, Ale’s words would have pushed you there.

The alternating thrusts in each of your holes grew faster, harder, until a loud smack was sounding every half second as each girl pressed into you more aggressively. You were so close, the feeling threatening to swallow you whole, when Jenni moved her hand from your hip, threading her fingers through your hair and tugging hard.

“Jen- god, I’m gonna come,” you moaned. Misa’s lips attached themselves to your neck, unable to help herself as she took in the absolutely dazed look on your face, eyes half shut, tears leaking out of the corners.

“Come, amorcita, I want to see you come for me,” Jenni rasped, and she’d barely finished talking before you were screaming her name, words almost unintelligible as your body shuddered. You couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything more than hold tightly as you tried to breathe through it. Jenni and Misa stilled deep inside of you as you tightened down on them, until they could barely move.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cried, nails digging into Misa under you as you grinded down softly on her, working yourself through potentially the most intense orgasm you’d ever experienced. It was so much, too much, two cocks filling you completely.

“Jen, out,” you gasped, needing the stimulation to ease if you were going to be able to go again anytime soon.

Jenni listened instantly, delicately pulling out of you. Once she was no longer pressed against your ass, your legs gave out from under you, Misa’s cock slipping out as you collapsed completely down on top of her.

“So fucking good for us, tan bonita, tan perfecta,” Misa whispered, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it. Her arms wrapped tightly around you, securely holding your trembling body to hers. The post orgasm bliss quickly took over, and you turned your slightly as your head cleared a bit, at the sound of a familiar whine from next to you.

Jenni had moved quickly, getting her girlfriend flat on her back and settling in between her legs before you’d really even noticed. Ale looked completely gone, head thrown back into the pillows as she breathed hard, fingers laced in Jenni’s hair. It was, perhaps, this sight that somehow made your aching cunt ache in a different way.

You needed more. You weren’t sure how, but you needed it, deep inside you. You needed Misa to fuck you like she normally did, not in the slightly held back way she’d just done. You needed Misa, your Misa, who made you come until you thought you might explode. Misa had never been one to deny you either, and you turned back towards her, resting your chin on her chest, waiting to speak until her brown eyes met yours, tearing away from the encapsulating sight next to you.

“M, I need you to fuck me,” you told her, watching as a familiar smirk tugged at her lips.

“You sure you are ready?” She asked, soft Misa poking out, for just a moment.

“I’m ready, please baby, I need you so bad,”

Misa had you under her on your stomach within a second, yanking your hips until your ass was high in the air, face pressed into the mattress below you.

“Just fucked you full, and you already need more? Fucking slut, just for us.” Misa said roughly. She knew what you liked, and knew what you could take, and you weren’t surprised at all when Misa lined herself up, thrusting into you all at once. It coaxed a long, drawn out moan from you, still so sensitive from before, the sensation still a perfect one.

Misa fucked exactly how she looked like she fucked. Hard, fast, hands grasping at handfuls of your ass, muscular thighs working herself inside of you at a truly athletic pace. Everything around you was forgotten, Alexia’s cries and the sound of Jenni’s tongue lapping against her girlfriend fading away until it was just you and Misa.

“C-close,” you warned. It didn’t even occur to you to be embarrassed at how fast they were making you finish, the pleasure forcing every coherent thought from your head.

“No,” Misa growled, speeding up. With every thrust she was grinding into you, the pressure perfect on her clit. She’d been worked up for a while, and the sight of you underneath her, hands gripping the bed sheets as if your life depended on it was getting her so very close. “No, you come with me. You come when I fill that pussy up,”

“Misa, I’m gonna,” you said, tensing every muscle in your body in an effort to hold off like she wanted.

“No. Not until you beg for it.”

You knew exactly what she was asking for.

“Fill me up, Misa, please baby, I need you to fill me up,” you were practically shouting, voice scratchy from the strain on your throat, but it was precisely what Misa wanted to hear.

“Come, fucking come for me, mi zorrita perfecta,”

With one last thrust into you, Misa grinded in hard, sending her over the edge at the same time as you. The keeper collapsed on top of you, her orgasm ending significantly before yours did. The force of it had you practically convulsing under her, having entirely lost the ability to form multi-word sentences, you repeated Misa’s name like it was the only word you knew, the only word you’d ever need to know. Your skin was sticky with sweat under Misa’s, but she didn’t care as she pulled out, rolling you gently onto your side, and settling herself directly on top of you.

“Mi buena niña, tan perfecta para mi,” she whispered, enjoying the soft whimpers still working their way out of your mouth. It took her a minute to remember that you both were not, in fact, alone in the room. She was past the point of embarrassment, though, the other two women seeing far more of her than she’d ever thought she’d allow. Carefully, as not to jostle your quivering body, Misa twisted her head to find Jenni resting her head on Alexia’s stomach, satisfied smiles adorning both of their faces. Alexia looked properly fucked out, and Misa wondered briefly how she’d missed what must have been a loud performance from the midfielder. You were done, very clearly so, eyes half shut under the comforting weight of your brunette, cheeks flushed, an incredibly content and relaxed expression on your face. Alexia, too, looked content to never move again, her hands resting possessively on Jenni’s back.

Jenni, however, was looking at Misa with a glint in her eye, one that Misa had only seen once; right before Jenni was about to fuck you open. There was still a thick tension in the room, one that you and Alexia clearly were no longer feeling, but one that rippled between the forward and the goalkeeper all the same. Jenni wasn’t done with Misa, not even close.

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🙃 one more to go.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas x jenni hermoso x misa rodríguez x reader #alexia putellas x jenni hermoso #alexia putellas x reader #jenni hermoso x reader #misa rodriguez x reader

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crios31 · 29 days

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Chapter 1: The aide

Smut and story building (Defloration, creampie, blowjob, facial)

Lenght 1890 words

You recently finished your university’s year so your parents are visiting you, the three of you are sitting in your living room talking.

“So son, how are your preparations for Korea going?”

“All the paperworks concerning universities and the exchange student program are now done. My flight is booked for the end of the month but I’ll make a stop in Japan to see my friends for two weeks so I’ll arrive in Seoul around mid-July.”

“Good. You should have ample time to take your marks before starting your internship at the holding company over there then.” Says your father while nodding. “It will be a good opportunity for you to learn about the company, after all you’ll be taking it over following your graduation. Now I’ll let your mom explain something to you.”

“So, concerning the person that will be your aide in Korea, we asked her to come today. She should arrive shortly.” Said your mother.

“That’s good, I was curious about who it could be.”

“For that, do you remember the scholarship program I’m in charge?”

“Yes, you created it following the opening of your first private school. Girls are chosen because they show potential and the program supports them until the end of their studies.”

“You’re right but there is more to it. I’ll give you a file explaining everything when you’ll be leaving for Japan. What you need to know is, we helped her family in the past, plus she is smart, so we selected her from the program to work for you. We then explained everything to her and she was very curious to know more about you and in the end she accepted our offer.

“As for more information about her, she is Canadian but was born in South Korea so she has both nationalities, she is a little older than you and recently graduated with a master degree, moreover she is an excellent cook. Finally, the most important information is that this sweet girl will do everything you want. " As she finished her sentence the doorbell rang. “Oh that should be her!”

Your mother asks you to wait as they go to your door to let the guest in . When they return to the room, a beautiful young woman is following them.

Your mother put a hand on her shoulder. “Son, this is Wendy.”

She greets you with a bright smile and cheerful voice.

“Good evening sir, I'm Son Seung-Hwan but I usually go by my English name Wendy. Nice to finally meet you!”

“Nice to meet you too.” you answered smiling

“We'll let you both get to know each other. Have fun kiddos!” says your father as he begins to leave.

“See you soon son.” And with a whisper adds, “Oh I forgot to tell you, she’s still a virgin.”She winks at you before passing the door, your father follows his wife outside while chuckling because he heard her.

You return to your living room where your guest is waiting.

You gazed at Wendy’s body for a moment before beginning to caress her cheek making her blush, “Strip down to your underwear.”

At first confused, she soon complied as she began by taking her T-shirt then her jeans, now you can see her toned body adorned with a black matching set of underwear.

“It’s done, sir.”

She silently waits for your next command as you take a minute admiring her exposed body, making her heart beat faster.“So pretty.” is the last thing she hears as you hold her by the waist and begin to kiss her. As you deepen the kiss she begins to respond by putting her hand around your neck, your tongues playing with each other. Your hands don’t stay idle as they roam her body.

With the kiss end, you turn Wendy's body around, one of your hands unhooking her bra which soon falls on the floor as you start to play with her breasts. Small moans start coming from Wendy’s mouth because of your fondling. Each of her boobs resting in the palm of your hand. you slowly feel the tips hardening, so you decide to give it a pinch to the now hard nipple, eliciting a loud moan from her mouth. “What a beautiful voice.” you whispered.

“Thank you.” she answered, turning her head trying to face you. So you kiss her again.

While you still play with one of her tits, you begin to slowly explore downward with the other. When your hand finally reaches its destination, her panties are completely drenched under your fingers. “Someone is excited.” you pointed out, before kissing her neck as you trace her lower lips over her underwear provoking a shiver from Wendy.

She watches your hand going into her panties. She grabs your wrist and closes her legs when she feels your finger touching the source of her wetness.

You begin to move your fingers along her entrance, teasing her clit each time they go up. Her moans soon become more frequent, so you decide to focus on her clit. You increase your speed, feeling Wendy close to her peak.

“Sir.I'm… I’m coming!” shouted Wendy as her legs grow weak.

You give her a moment before carrying her to your bedroom where you put her on your bed. She watches you undress while biting her lips, until you finally put down your boxer.

“It’s.. big. ” She said looking at your cock..

Now naked you approach her on the bed grabbing the hem of her panties to remove. With the final obstacle out of the way, you open Wendy’s legs.

“What a cute pussy,” you said before getting into position with the head of your cock pressed against her entrance. You slowly push it in spreading her fold apart making her wince.

“Wait! It’ll never fit!” She shouted as your tip touched her thin membrane.

“Take a breath and relax as much as possible” You firmly grasp her hips and thrust the rest of your cock until she is full.

“Aah too big! It hurts!” She shouted, her hand gripping the sheet with all her strength.

“Don’t worry it’ll soon feel good. You passed the hardest part,” as you keep a slow pace for some time while making out in order for her to relax. Soon you feel her arms intertwined around your neck and her legs around your waist, as she begins to adjust to your size. “See it’s better now.” you said, smiling at her.

“Yes, it’s still painful but it’s also starting to feel good,” she answered. “You can go faster.”

You then gradually increase your pace as her pussy fully accepts your cock. Wendy gets more and more vocal, so you take one of her nipples in your mouth, sucking on it while teasing her clit with one of your hands.

“Oh.. yeah just continue like that! Yes! Yes! YES!” she shouted as her limbs tightened around you and her walls clenching around your cock showing the start of her orgasm. You stop moving to watch her body shaking. And when the wave of pleasure subsided you began to thrust again. “What? Wait! Cum.. cumming again” she said with her eyes rolling back.

This time you don’t stop as you’re close to your peak, the sound of both yours flesh clapping against each other becoming more frequent,”Fuck! I’m cumming!” And with this last trust you release your load deep inside her, filling her womb. “Damn.. it feels so good.”

You take a moment to rest before taking your cock out of her freshly deflowered pussy, now empty, both of your fluid begin to drip on the bed sheet. “We’re going to have a lot of fun together in the future,” you said grinning at Wendy who has regained her focus. “Now let’s get cleaned up.”

“Sir? Can I have some help?”

You lift her, drops of your seed continue to fall from her cunt, leaving a trail behind you as you enter the bathroom. Now in the shower you put her down, Wendy leaning against the glass for support.

Both of you exhale as the water hits your bodies, you begin to wash each other, but you soon feel vigor returning between your legs. “Ready for another round?” You asked before she notices your growing erection.

“I don’t think I will be able to take it in again today sir.”

You paused a little before looking at her lips, “Then suck on it.”

She complies and drops to her knees, slowly grabbing your cock as she hesitantly gives it a few pumps. “Now for starters focus on the head by licking it.” She pulls her tongue out and gives you a tip with growing confidence she explores it covering it with saliva.

“Good girl, now take it in.” You said softly caressing her head.

She nods, putting your cock in her mouth while looking at you, with upturned eyes stopping a little before a third of the length. “Try to take it deeper.” She starts bobbing her head and takes more of your member each time, but soon you hear a small gag showing her limit. You let her continue the fellation, as you savor the feeling coming from your groin, in particular the feeling of her tongue on the underside of your cock.

“Good just like that.” you say, patting her head. “I’m close, take it out while you continue to jerk it.” She obeys, your cock leaving her mouth with a pop, placing both her hands around it, moving them up and down with more confidence than when she started.

“Here it comes.”

You ejaculate, sending a big wave of sperm out, painting Wendy’s face white. You watch your work when she decides to taste some of it by licking her lips.

“I’ll need some time to get used to the taste and texture”

You smile at this before both of you resume your shower as Wendy has to clean herself of the slimy liquid on her visage. Exiting the bathroom both of you put your clothes on.

“Are you hungry Wendy?”

“A little.”

“Alright, I’ll make us something. I heard that you are a good cook. I hope that I can experience it soon.” You said with a smile.

“You can count on it.” She answered, smiling back at you.

After having dinner, you let her stay for the night.

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In the following weeks, you meet again with Wendy, learning more about each other, and having sex with her on multiple occasions, until the day for your departure arrives.

“Sir, are you ready?” asked Wendy from behind you.

“Yes, I was checking that I didn’t forget anything. Let‘s wait outside for my parents.”

You both exit your home with your luggages, and five minutes later your parent’s car arrives. With your dad's help you put everything in the trunk before getting into the car.

Your father starts the car and soon you are on the highway in the direction of the airport.

#kpop smut #red velvet smut #wendy smut #male reader #m reader #girl group smut #red velvet wendy

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taexual · 6 months

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sleepwalking ● 9 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, mutual pining, angst, SLOOOWW BUURNNN

words: 9.9k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 9 ► the silence is one thing that i’ll remember you said. well, it’s better than nothing when nothing’s all that you left

The next morning was warm.

It was such a stark contrast to last night that you couldn’t help but still feel phantom shivers on your skin when you got off the bus to stretch your legs. It was still two more hours to Oslo, and it was unreasonably early to be awake, considering you did not return to the bus until sunrise—a mere half an hour before the scheduled departure for Norway.

Everyone else was still asleep, which made sense: they must have returned to the bus sometime very late, too. Granted, when you and Jungkook reached the restaurant on Strandvägen yesterday, your team was no longer there—but that didn’t mean they went to sleep as soon as they returned.

To be fair, you hadn’t expected to find them at the restaurant anyway. But after the abrupt end of your conversation with Jungkook on the bridge, you had hoped for a distraction. Something to take your mind off the uncomfortable gaping hole inside you.

Jungkook had suggested last night that you take a taxi back to the tour bus, and you were almost ready to walk back on your own.

It confused you—this unexpected longing for something you dared not name—but it also frightened you. Therefore, you were glad that when the bus reached Oslo, Jungkook was still asleep.

You felt like you needed a minute—to convince yourself that whatever you thought you’d felt in the air last night was more wishful thinking than anything else. Because here’s the thing about wishful thinking: it was yours. And everything that was yours, you could extinguish. You could put it out like you’d done countless times before.

So, several hours later in Oslo, you gave Yoongi very strict instructions to keep the band close and make sure they rested before tomorrow’s performance. And then you took your girls to explore the city, sightsee and drink as much coffee as you could find.

Unfortunately for Jungkook, sightseeing was something he also wanted to do with you once you arrived in Oslo. He had a lot to tell you; he knew he owed you an explanation. He just wasn’t sure how to explain what had happened, let alone what hadn’t happened.

But when he woke up on the bus, you had already left, taking Maggie and Luna with you. So, not only did he have to wallow in his thoughts, but he also had to deal with a sulking Taehyung, who never openly admitted why he was sulking, but it was obvious enough. Even though he texted Luna all day, she wasn’t physically there with him, and that wasn’t enough.

Jungkook was annoyed. He should have seen this coming—he tended to sleep in while you tended to not—but he realised he had expected you to stay. He’d expected a reaction. Perhaps he’d hoped you would demand that he explained himself and why the two of you had gone from I-miss-you to let’s-walk-and-not-look-at-each-other.

Your reaction, however, was no reaction at all.

You and the girls went out, which for the three of you, meant getting ice cream and walking the city streets until you found something interesting. Sometimes this took up the whole day. You loved it—especially today.

But then, just as you were approaching what looked like a castle with crowds of tourists flocking to it—Luna discovered it was the Royal Palace, which should have been obvious, but you and Maggie still ooh-ed and ahh-ed at Luna’s Google Maps skills—your phone started to ring.

Licking your ice cream hurriedly so it wouldn’t melt completely while you talked, you walked away from the girls to take the call.

You were half-expecting an emergency, but before you could really be disappointed that you had to end your excursion, you noticed the unknown number on the screen of your phone. You briefly considered not answering, but you saw that the number had an area code from home.

You thought it might be your brother calling. Once again, you considered not answering, still angry at him for his recklessness and your mum’s tears. But responsibility won over, and you picked up.

On the other end of the line was a man asking for you. For a moment, you were confused, because the voice sounded familiar, but the owner of it didn’t seem to know who he was talking to.

“This is she,” you responded to your own name. “May I ask who’s calling?”

“Oh, you sound so different for some reaso—it’s Nick,” the man said, and you stopped chewing on the waffle cone of your ice cream in surprise.

Nick Zhou had been your supervisor after you graduated and started to work at the company where you now managed Rated Riot. Back then, you were just an intern before being promoted to assistant manager for an indie rock band with the ominous name The Jungle Will Get You, when you were just 23 years old. Nick was their manager then, and he never admitted it, but you knew he’d pulled some strings to get you that job.

Two years later, you took over the management of Rated Riot, and you haven’t spoken to Nick since. But not because he held a grudge against you for leaving The Jungle—the group disbanded after a few months anyway, and Nick went on to manage Reconnaissance, one of the biggest alternative rock bands in the country, if not the world. Just being their manager made Nick more popular than Rated Riot at the moment.

You thought things had worked out well for you both, so there was simply no reason for you to stay in touch.

You figured the reason he was calling you now had to mean good things for Rated Riot. Supporting Reconnaissance on tour? Perhaps a collaboration?

“Nick!” was the first word out of your mouth after the surprise had subsided. “So nice to hear from you again.”

“I heard you were in Europe? That’s huge!” he said, which was kind of him, because Reconnaissance were selling out stadiums.

“We are, yeah. Oslo right now,” you said, smiling at Maggie, who approached you and tugged on your arm like a toddler wanting to go on a ride at an amusement park. Except in this case, the ‘ride’ was a wine bar down the street from the palace. You nodded, and that was permission enough for her to jog over to Luna and drag the two of you towards the bar, never mind that it was 3 PM. You said into the phone, “how are you? You’re going to Australia soon, right?”

“Next week, yeah,” Nick said. “The new album’s coming shortly after that.”

“Ah, another tour,” you said with a teasing chuckle—you knew how much Nick hated flying. Even the Reconnaissance members talked about their ‘air-sick manager’ in almost every interview they did. “Good luck in advance!”

Nick chortled in irony. “Thanks, I’m going to need it. That’s actually, uh, the reason I’m calling.”

Your heart rate picked up as the ice cream melted in your hand. “Yeah?”

“Yes. See, we had some—er, situations,” he paused here as if searching for a better word. After he didn’t find one, he continued with the one he had picked, “and because of these situations, I’m putting together a new team. With the new album coming out soon, we’re on a really tight schedule.”

“Right,” you said. You could already hear him asking if Rated Riot would like to be the supporting act, and maybe even participate in Reconnaissance’s new album.

“Well, that’s why I’m calling you,” he said. “The management here is just me and this guy, Mark, who can’t dial a phone number to save his life, but he’s a great sport. Keeps the band alive. But I need more people. Preferably someone with, uh, experience.”

He paused meaningfully, but it still took you a minute to realise that he hadn’t contacted you about Rated Riot. He had contacted you about you.

You watched Maggie and Luna enter the wine bar, take your ice cream from you, and make a beeline for the cash register, all while you stood in the doorway.

“I’m—uh—Nick.” There was an uncomfortable lump of surprise in your throat. Your hands felt sticky and your mouth felt dry. “I’m—I manage Rated Riot.”

“I know,” he said, “and they’re a very promising band, tons of potential,” he paused here, hesitating, “but I thought—well, this is sort of different, isn’t it?”

You would have scoffed if you weren’t so stunned. “Well, of course.”

“Yeah. So, I just—we need an assistant manager. Fast,” Nick said. “And you were the first person I thought of. I mean, we’ve worked together before. I know your strengths and I admire your work ethic. I think you’d be a great addition to our team.”

Overwhelmed, you barely managed to find your words. “I… appreciate the offer. But I don’t think I can just—”

“Think about it, okay?” he interrupted you, aware of the abruptness and sheer mass of this offer. “We’ll be back from Australia next month, so you don’t need to give me an answer right away. Just—the sooner the better, of course. But you can think about it. I just wanted to let you know that I have an opening, and I’d love it if you joined us.”

“I—okay.” The faint smell of grapes and old wood around the wine bar seemed to grow stronger the longer that you stood here, still frozen. “Thank you, Nick.”

“I’ll be waiting to hear from you,” he said. “Take care, yeah?”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Yeah, you too. Thanks again.”

The three beeps after he ended the call reverberated in your head, and it was another half-minute before you moved the phone from your ear. You looked at it in disbelief, as if it had been someone else who’d just had this conversation, and you had merely overheard it.

In an attempt to ground yourself, you tried to simplify your loud thoughts into whispers of an adequate noise.

There was an opening to be Reconnaissance’s assistant manager.

You’d have to take a step back, do more mundane tasks, similar to the ones you did back when you were Nick’s assistant that first time. But if you said yes, you’d be working with one of the biggest bands in the world right now.

But you couldn’t leave Rated Riot. You were their manager. You believed in them, and you loved everyone on this team.

“You look like you just found out Santa isn’t real,” Maggie’s voice brought you back to the present. She had come to get you, so you’d stop blocking the entrance for others. “Who was that?”

You still felt very hot and half-choked, so you tried to loosen the collar of your white tank top. The denim jacket you wore over it didn’t help much with the heat inside of you, either.

“Um,” you looked around as you slipped out of your jacket. “Can we get some wine first?”

Maggie raised her eyebrows. “Oh, it’s like that, is it?”

You nodded, and before you could give a verbal response, Maggie was already calling out to your friend, who was about to place her order, “Luna! Grab some doubles! We have something going on.”

It took the girls about two minutes to find a table—granted, a couple of tourists who saw Maggie dragging you through the wine bar while you were trying to regain proper consciousness got scared and left, which helped a lot—and settle down.

As soon as you took the first sip, catching the rich and savoury taste—perhaps a bit too savoury; it immediately made you scrunch your nose—Luna scooted closer to you on the navy-coloured velvet couch.

“What happened?” she asked. “Who was that on the phone?”

You set your glass down. “That was Nick. My former supervisor. Before I started to work with Rated Riot. He, um—he manages Reconnaissance.”

“Oh, shit!” Maggie exclaimed at the same time as Luna muttered, “I don’t really know them.”

“Oh!” Maggie gasped, turning to Luna. “Wait. Weren’t you at their show a few days ago? I saw on your Instagram.”

“Yeah, Taehyung took me. He brought me to the after-party, too, but—” she paused as she noticed that Maggie’s eyes looked ready to pop out. She explained, “oh, that was just to babysit Jungkook. He’s the one who really listens to Reconnaissance. I don’t know any of their songs. They sounded good, but I’m—”

“Oh my God!” Maggie gasped again. She had glitter in her eyes and all over her face. “Wait until we get back on the bus! I probably have five different notebooks full of their song lyrics. You’ll love them.”

Luna nodded her head once, then paused in the middle of the second nod. “Wait, you brought those notebooks on tour? Aren’t they heavy?”

“Kind of. But I like to have them with me. And I keep adding to them, so—” Maggie stopped when you picked up your glass again. Your movement seemed to remind her what the topic was before she digressed. She leaned back in her bright yellow armchair. “—which is not the point. So, what did that guy want? Nick.”

Both girls turned their attention back to you.

You took another sip of your wine and said, “well, I thought he wanted Rated Riot.”

Swirling her glass, Luna asked, “he didn’t?”

“He didn’t,” you confirmed. “Apparently, he wants me.”

Luna was the first to understand the implication as her eyebrows lifted and her chin dropped. Maggie, on the other hand, looked at Luna, and then back at you.

“Like… to work with him?” she asked. “To manage Reconnaissance?”

“Well, obviously not to perform with them on stage,” Luna said to her impatiently, then turned back to you. “Why does he want you?”

“He said he needed to find an assistant manager quickly,” you explained, “and since he knows me, he thought I’d be... suitable. For that job.”

You didn’t know what words to choose so you wouldn’t feel so uncomfortable talking about this. And, as you sat here with your friends and your glass of wine, you realised that a part of you didn’t believe you were even ready to work with someone like Reconnaissance. For the most part, you were terrified of it.

You hoped Rated Riot would reach their level one day, that’s true. But starting to work with a band that was already so outrageously popular felt a bit like being thrown into a pot of boiling water.

“Well, what did you say?” Maggie asked.

“I said no,” you replied, your vision blurring again. “I think.”

The two girls spoke up at the same time.

Luna repeated, “you think?” while Maggie asked, “why not?”

They exchanged a look – Maggie, surprised; Luna, slightly accusing.

“What?” Maggie said in response to her look. “This is big!” She put down her glass and leaned over to touch your knee, wanting to emphasise her point, “I love you, okay? And I love working with you and everyone else here, and I know you do, too. But this is just… huge.”

“I know,” you said, your gaze still wandering along the tiled wall behind Maggie’s armchair. You felt disoriented and the wine had very little to do with it. “But I—I mean, I can’t just leave.”

“I think you should talk to the guys,” Luna suggested. She managed to come to terms with the heaviness of the offer that Nick had made much faster than you did. It helped, of course, that she wasn’t the one who had to make a decision here, but she was making a reasonable point regardless.

“Yeah,” Maggie agreed, pointing at the girl on the couch next to you, and nodding eagerly at you. “Yeah. You should.”

You looked at both of them, then down at your glass, as if you could take a sip and it’d give you very clear directions of what to do next.

“But what can I say to them?” you asked. Then, in a voice meaning to imitate yourself, you said, “‘I might have an opportunity to leave you and work with a much bigger band.’ No. No, I don’t think so.”

Maggie squinted at you, unsure if she was the only one confused again. She asked carefully, “you… don’t think you’ll tell them this? Or you don’t think you’ll work with Reconnaissance?”

You finished your wine and set the glass back on the tray. The other girls’ glasses were still half-full.

“Neither, probably,” you replied. “I’d be—you know. If I went to work with Nick, I’d be fetching coffee for the other staff members and filling out paperwork. I already do that for Rated Riot anyway, but I don’t mind, because I don’t think we’re at a level where I’d need an assistant. But I—I want to reach that level with them. I want to be here every step of the way.”

If you’d lifted your eyes from the table in front of you, you would have seen the soft smile on Luna’s face. Instead, you heard it in her voice when she said, “that makes sense.”

Finally, you looked at her. “It does?”

“Yeah.”

“Uh, I think you should sleep on it,” Maggie said, a different voice of reason. “Make sure this isn’t something you’ll regret later. Oh!” she clapped her hands. “You can even make a pros and cons list!”

You smiled while Luna snickered. She said to you, “pro: obviously, you wouldn’t be managing your ex-boyfriend—”

“Um?” Maggie cut in. “Con: you wouldn’t be managing your ex-boyfriend.”

Luna frowned at her. “How is that a con?”

Maggie raised her eyebrows. “Have you seen her ex-boyfriend?”

Luna’s frown dissipated as she laughed, and even you chuckled, too.

In her whole life, Maggie might have had one and a half doubts about not actually being gay; she was simply an artist to the core. And she was very vocal about how unbelievably easy it was to photograph Jungkook when he was on stage. He was, in a truly annoying way, effortlessly photogenic.

“I guess that’s a pro and a con,” you said. There was a lingering smile on your face—this time, the wine did have something to do with it.

When paired with the sudden anxiety of Nick’s offer, the wine helped you distance yourself from the last conversation you’d had with Jungkook. And maybe it was better, you decided, that your friends didn’t know about the walk you two had taken. You preferred the conversation as it was now — cosy, safe, and almost buoyant.

“Is there a time limit?” Luna asked suddenly. “Did Nick tell you a date?”

“No,” you said with a sigh. “He said he wanted an answer soon. So I don’t have to decide right this second. But I’m not really considering it, to be honest. It’s a great opportunity, sure, but I think working with Rated Riot is a great opportunity, too.”

Both girls nodded in unison, their expressions brightening. Slowly, as you felt the support in their warm gazes, the atmosphere in the wine bar began to lighten, too. They understood. And they agreed with your point.

Luna teased, “does the band pay you extra when you say nice things about them? Because I really love Rated Riot.”

You chuckled. “I wish they did.”

Maggie lifted her glass. “Be careful. If you start complimenting them to their faces, it’ll go straight to their heads. And then we’ll have to give their shows an R rating.”

“Well, that would help them live up to their name,” Luna pointed out and the three of you burst into a fit of giggles again—partially because of the wine, but in your case also because of relief.

Nick’s offer and the confusing feelings from last night did not seem all that troublesome at the moment. You could almost forget about them, focusing only on the way things were right now.

You were happy like this. You didn’t want anything to change.

As dusk fell, Jungkook began to hover his finger over your name in his contact list. Just then, Sid burst into the otherwise empty bus and slammed the door with so much force that the whole vehicle swayed a little.

Startled, Jungkook looked up.

“Dude!” he called out, poking his head out of his bunk to see his friend’s proud face. “Gentle.”

“I have the best plans for us tonight,” Sid said as if he hadn’t heard him. “You will not believe the kind of bars they have here in Norway.”

Although Jungkook doubted that the bars here were any different from the ones back home, he still climbed out of the bunk, more intrigued by the idea of having company than by the supposed uniqueness of Norwegian bars. “Yeah?”

Sid’s smile grew wider still when he saw the same reaction mirrored on Jungkook’s face.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “Let’s go.”

Jungkook hesitated. He had told you last night that things wouldn’t be the same between him and Sid when they returned home. And he meant it; he would have preferred to spend time with you—right now and back home. But you weren’t here, and while he was waiting for you, everyone else made different plans. Even Taehyung. And Jungkook hated being alone.

Grabbing his jacket, he climbed out of the bunk and allowed Sid to lead him outside, where the rest of their friends were already waiting.

They were like a herd of sheep, Jungkook thought unexpectedly while Sid ushered him out of the bus, the way they followed Sid. Why didn’t they ever protest or suggest their own ideas?

But as he looked at his friends – Jude and Minjun fighting over something on Jude’s phone, shoving the device in each other’s faces and shouting; Sid smacking them both on the backs of their heads, providing his own wisdom to their argument – he knew.

They stayed quiet, because the four of them were always together in the same way: with Sid in the lead, and the others following behind him. That’s the way it has always been. Jungkook knew that if one of them had a genuine problem with this, he would not be taken seriously. Or it would be the last time he could call them friends.

It was either this, or nothing at all.

That night, the four of them ended up in a cocktail bar in Oslo, a significant distance away from the tour bus and the rest of the crew. Jungkook didn’t understand why Sid had chosen this particular place until his friend winked and gestured towards the stairs leading to the basement.

“What’s down there?” Jungkook was dumb enough to ask.

Grateful for the chance to show off, Sid grinned and draped an arm around Jungkook’s shoulders as he led him—along with Jude and Minjun, who were looking around like this was a zoo—to the basement.

“Only the greatest thing to come out of Europe,” Sid explained. “You can thank me later.”

He didn’t.

It was an underground burlesque club with only three dancers, all of whom appeared so intimidating that Jungkook was convinced they could stab the four of them with their nails alone, if any of the boys looked them in the eye for too long. He didn’t dare to try.

Sid loved it.

Jungkook preferred the bar upstairs.

Minjun seemed to agree, so the two went back up for another round, while Jude stayed back. Despite occasionally acting like he hated Sid’s guts, Jude always stayed close to him, almost like an addict, who knew that this drug was bad for him, but still couldn’t break the habit.

“Do you think they’ll make it out alive?” Minjun asked as they waited for their drinks at the bar.

“I don’t think they’re getting out at all,” Jungkook replied. “It’s like siren screams for Sid.”

“That’s true. And if Sid stays, Jude stays.”

Jungkook nodded, his expression grim.

“So, D-11,” Minjun said. It took Jungkook a second to realise that he was counting down the days to the end of the bet. “How’s it going?”

He gave his friend a look. “I’m in a bar with you. How do you think it’s going?”

Minjun smiled and nodded to the bartender to thank him for bringing the drinks. Then he held his glass out to Jungkook.

“A toast,” he declared. Jungkook rolled his eyes and picked up his own glass. “May you win this bet, because Sid on a motorcycle is a menace I want nothing to do with.”

Snorting, Jungkook clinked his glass against his and they both downed their drinks in several big gulps.

“He’s not getting the bike,” Jungkook said, setting his glass down with new-found determination. Hearing Minjun mention the possibility of Sid winning the Katana made it feel more realistic. He had to make sure that didn’t happen.

“Do you need my help?” Minjun asked as if reading his mind.

Jungkook looked up from the bar top. “You couldn’t help even if I asked. We signed an agreement that we wouldn’t tell her.”

“You and Sid signed it,” Minjun pointed out. “I was just the person who typed it all out in my fucking Notes. I’m not legally bound to abide by the conditions of the deal. And, actually, neither are you. It’s just a—”

“Why would you help me?” Jungkook interrupted. His friend’s final sentences had evidently flown over his head. “I’ve hardly got anything to offer you in return.”

Minjun shrugged. “I just don’t want Sid to win.”

Jungkook swallowed. He found himself hoping, suddenly, that there was more to this. That if he really kicked Sid off the tour and out of his life, there would at least be one person who wouldn’t leave with him. One person who would stay.

“I don’t know what you could do,” Jungkook said. “Putting in a good word for me probably wouldn’t do much.”

“No?” his friend said, then looked down at his glass thoughtfully. “Okay. We can go full mentalist on her.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Dropping certain objects in her living space that leave imprints of you in her subconscious,” Minjun said completely seriously. “It’s simple.”

“Dude.” Jungkook blinked. “I don’t know where this—this Sherlockian shit is coming from, but I’m not going to mess with her head.”

Minjun was about to scoff, but held back because the offence on Jungkook’s face at the—apparently, preposterous—suggestion seemed genuine. As if Minjun didn’t know what he was saying. As if this was serious, and Jungkook didn’t want to ruin it by playing games.

Minjun pointed out, “but you already are messing with her head.”

If possible, Jungkook looked even more appalled. “I’m—that’s not what I’m doing.”

“Then what’s the difference between what you’re doing and what I’m suggesting?”

“Well, I’m not trying to—I’m not sneaking around and forcing her to think about me,” Jungkook said, looking away from his friend and meeting the bartender’s gaze. He nodded, and the man behind the bar approached the two friends with a bottle of whiskey.

“It’s not force, technically,” Minjun explained as they watched the bartender refill their drinks. “It’s just how your brain works. You see something that reminds you of someone, and it sticks with you whether you’re aware of it or not.”

“I’d like for that to happen naturally,” Jungkook said, aware that he was the naïve one here. But he liked to think of it as hope. And he had that right—he was the only one who really knew you. The only one who could guess whether you were thinking about him or not.

Minjun shrugged and picked up his glass as soon as it was filled. “It’s your call. I’m just trying to speed up the process.”

Jungkook brought his own drink to his lips, but paused when Minjun spoke up again.

“Let me ask you something, though,” he said. “Before you get too far ahead of yourself.”

Even before he heard the question, Jungkook already felt queasy. “What is it?”

“Do you genuinely want to get back together with her?” Minjun asked.

There seemed to be no ill intentions behind the question, but Jungkook spent a full minute watching him and reading his expression.

Minjun was quick to notice his uncertainty. He reassured, “I’m asking because I care. Not because I want to make fun of you. I know you love her, but this—well, I’m just wondering if you want to act on these feelings.”

Jungkook looked down again. “Yeah, uh, I do. It’s not just about the bet for me.”

Minjun had suspected as much, so he wanted to broach the subject when no one else was around.

“But you still think making a bet out of it is the way to go?” he inquired.

Jungkook knew where this was going. And he still tried to appear nonchalant.

“I mean, I’m in this mess anyway, so why not actually win this?” he replied with a laid-back shrug that was so laid-back, it only amplified the fact that it was not laid-back at all.

“Jungkook,” Minjun said, startling him. Normally, the four of them addressed each other as ‘dude’ or the occasional ‘what the fuck is wrong with you?’. Hearing his name felt strange, almost foreboding.

“There’s so many reasons why not,” Minjun continued. “The most important one being that you come out of this as a winner twice. You get her and you get the bike. But all she gets is the realisation that someone she’s letting back into her life has lied to her.”

Defensively, Jungkook demanded, “when did I lie?”

“You’re getting back together with her because of the bet!”

“It’s not because of—it’s not just because of the bet. I just told you.”

“But she doesn’t know about it,” Minjun countered, poking holes in Jungkook’s feeble defensive shield. It was more like a flimsy piece of paper than a shield, really; just something he’d hoped to fool himself—and you—into believing. “She doesn’t know what else is at stake. It’s not fair.”

“Okay,” Jungkook turned in his seat to face Minjun, leaning his elbow against the bar top. “What are you trying to tell me? That I should lose the bet on purpose? To show her that I care about her more than anything else?”

“No,” Minjun replied, less confident. Jungkook was likely not aware of this, but he could be very intimidating. For Minjun, who considered himself immune to most forms of intimidation after years of being friends with Sid, this was unusual and unsettling. “I’m not telling you anything. I’m just suggesting you think about it. You can’t have your cake and eat it, too.”

Jungkook swallowed, his throat dry.

He knew that he had already drawn a subconscious line between simply wanting you back and wanting you back to win the bet. He worried about the exact thing that Minjun had just mentioned—that he couldn’t have both. He worried that it wouldn’t be fair to be with you again if he won.

This was what stopped him on the bridge. It’s what haunted his mind every time he thought about talking to you.

Deep down, he knew he would have to make a choice: either he won the bet, or he got back together with you.

And yet, he couldn’t let Sid win. The thought pressed on his mind with so much weight that he knew it wasn’t just you that he didn’t want to lose, and it definitely wasn’t just his bike. It was a matter of pride, too.

He was proving a point for all the years that Sid had asserted his superiority over him.

“You know, that never made any sense to me,” Jungkook said. Alcohol helped him feel more confident and less self-conscious. Maybe he should stay tipsy until the end of the bet. “That’s the whole point of the cake. You get it, and it’s not just there to fucking look at. It’s there to be eaten.”

Minjun could tell Jungkook felt defensive, so he didn’t take the aggression personally. Instead, he took a sip of his drink.

“Whatever, man,” he said. “It’s your life, in the end.”

“Yeah. It is,” Jungkook replied so firmly that it just sounded childish. He tried to soften his tone, “I appreciate yo—your concern, but I got this.”

“Okay,” his friend agreed because that was easier. They could have been at it for hours—and God knows, Jungkook and Sid had been at it for hours—but Minjun didn’t think it was worth it. He concluded, “that’s fine.”

“It is,” Jungkook agreed.

But it was clear that it wasn’t fine. Jungkook looked flushed as if he’d bathed in a barrel of whiskey, not merely drank two glasses of it.

After about half an hour, the silence became heavy. At first, Minjun had thought that he would rather throw himself down the stairs than return to the basement where Sid and Jude were. But now that seemed like a better alternative than sitting here with a sulking Jungkook.

“You know, uh, I think I’m going to go check on Sid and Jude,” he said while Jungkook ordered another—his fifth—glass. “Don’t want them to die in Oslo. Too big of a hassle to bring their bodies back home.”

Jungkook’s lip did not even twitch. But he nodded and Minjun slid off his chair. He glanced back at his friend as he went, not wanting to leave him alone, but also feeling like Jungkook was already alone anyway, even with him here.

Jungkook had always been good at isolating himself, even when surrounded by other people. Honestly, Minjun wasn’t sure if Jungkook even realised that he wasn’t sitting at the bar alone. He told Minjun once that he couldn’t stand silence, but Minjun knew that sometimes, Jungkook’s thoughts overwhelmed him without his consent. And once he got lost in his own mind, the rest of the world ceased to exist for him.

However, now that he was truly alone, Jungkook was struck by the heavy weight of his solitude. He would have agreed with Minjun – he really did have a monumental talent for disassociating anywhere, anytime. But to be able to drift off into his thoughts and turn the crowd into a blur, he needed a crowd in the first place.

Now that he was alone, all he could think about was that he was alone.

He certainly wasn’t going to follow his friends into the basement, so he got a few more drinks into his system for courage, and pulled his phone out—a painful reflex—to dial your number.

Needless to say, by the time you answered—it was 1 AM, but, of course, you answered—he was already slurring his words as he tried to explain why he’d called.

“Are you drunk?” was your first question as soon as you heard him try to introduce himself—pointlessly so, because at that point in your life, he was the only person who called you after midnight.

“Of course,” he said, with hints of offence in his voice. Why would he not be drunk? he rationalised. “Do you want to come?”

He heard shuffling on the other end as he played with the napkin on the bar top. Funnily enough, despite his mind feeling pleasantly numb, he still felt twinges of anxiety in his stomach.

“Where even are you?” you finally asked. He was too drunk to notice the coldness in your voice.

“Sid took us to some bar,” he replied. “In Oslo.”

While you were relieved that Sid hadn’t driven them out of Norway before Jungkook even performed here, you also felt concerned that Jungkook was so disoriented that he needed to remind you of the city you were in.

“Are the rest of the guys there?” you asked. His friends were useless, of course, but perhaps Minjun could be trusted to take care of Jungkook if he blacked out.

“They’re downstairs,” he answered. “There’s some club. I didn’t want to go, so I called you. Do you want to come?”

You were confused by the repeated question—was this a matter of you wanting to come, or were you obligated to come as his manager?

He sensed your apprehension through the phone despite being intoxicated.

“I’m trying to see you,” he explained, his tongue struggling to bend the right way. All his Rs sounded like sloppy Ls and Ws. “You weren’t there when I looked for you earlier today.” You heard a bang – he’d slammed his palm against the bar top, forcing the nearby glasses to rattle – and he continued, whining now, “why are you so difficult for me to find?!”

“You’re drunk,” you stated in response. “And you’re not making any sense. Can you find your way to the bus, or do I have to pick you up?”

Half-mumbling, half-whining something incoherent, Jungkook leaned his arms on the bar top. He rested his head on them and pressed his phone against his ear harder as if that’d make you understand him better, make you enter his head somehow.

“You should come,” he said. “I’ll order for you.”

“How about you tell me exactly where you are first,” you replied.

He did – to the best of his ability in his current state – but Google Maps could hardly help you find the directions for “then we took two left turns and came up in front of his huge red brick building, might have been brown, I’m really drunk.” Finally, you managed to get him to just send you his pinned location and headed over there.

He stayed on his phone after you hung up, opening the Notes app and scrolling through his older notes to pass the time.

Some of them were lists of things he wanted to remember – films to see, songs to listen to – while others were harder to decipher: drunken reminders he had made for himself and forgotten as soon as he sobered up.

Some of the notes were song lyrics, and some were just your name—he’d begun to type out a message? a letter? and abandoned it, scared of the weight your name alone carried—and his finger lingered on those for a minute before he pressed the New Note button and began typing immediately.

Normally, he didn’t write lyrics when he was drunk. Tipsy, maybe—one of Rated Riot’s most popular singles was born after he and Yoongi tried absinthe for the first time at one of the label’s parties last year—but never so drunk that the room felt wobbly.

He kept pressing the wrong buttons on the keyboard and autocorrect kept making it worse; shocking even his drunk mind with how completely wrong the corrections were.

But he managed to get two full lines – I fucking miss you when I drink / You burn my throat when I sing – and he stared at them for a minute, a deep frown on his face.

He hated it. Deleting the words with angry force on the backspace button, he began typing again, feeling furiously alone with every passing minute that you didn’t come—and knowing that when you did come, you would be you. And he couldn’t love you the way he did.

For years, even when he thought—hoped—that the feelings he had for you were not real, even as he insisted to his friends that he couldn’t possibly still love you, even as he tried to meet someone new despite only seeing faint echoes of your absence on every face, even then he wrote about you each time that his mind wandered.

You continued to be the subject of his music, the lyrical lover in every song he wrote.

Now, as he entered line after line, the lyrics writing themselves as he watched the screen, he could feel his heart thumping in his chest—as drunk as his mind was.

When the absence of you is all that inspires / I allow for the pain to turn into fires / It will burn when I write, when I think, when I sing / Flames will turn to ashes, turn to words, turn to ink

He held his phone with one hand as he folded and unfolded a napkin with the other one, reading the words and then re-reading them again.

He wasn’t sure if he liked it. He needed Namjoon to take a look at this—the producer knew better—before he could show it to anyone else. Especially before he sent it to—

Jungkook jumped up when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned his head and his vision seemed to brighten when he recognised you.

“I came as quickly as I could,” you said, out of breath as if you had run all the way here. You took a seat on the stool next to him at the bar, using his shoulder to steady yourself as you climbed onto it. “Where’s your tail?”

Even drunk, he understood you meant his friends.

“Downstairs,” he said, nodding his head towards the door leading to the staircase in the back. “Drinks?”

You assessed him. He didn’t appear to be in need of having his stomach pumped, but he was slouched over the bar, tightly clutching his phone in his hand, which was a good indicator that the night should have ended there.

“I think it’d be better to—”

“Strawberry daiquiri,” he said loudly—to the bartender, but it took you a second to realise that—then he turned to you for confirmation. “Right?”

“I’m not drinking,” you replied firmly enough for him to give you a long look.

“Why not?” he asked. The bartender politely waited for your consent before he started to make the cocktail. “You’re not driving.”

You swallowed. There were many – countless, really – reasons why not. You were confused about yesterday, confused about Nick’s offer, confused about what you were doing here tonight.

This was dangerous. Reckless, even, and very out of character for someone like you. You knew you shouldn’t dive head first into this, not after what happened—what didn’t happen—yesterday.

But you gave the bartender a light nod.

“One drink,” you said. “And we’re going back.”

But, of course, going back is not at all what you did.

Jungkook, his highball, your daiquiri, and you all found yourselves on the empty terrace on the roof not ten minutes later.

It was a relatively warm night, but it was the empty space, the dark night and the faint scent of rain that captivated you more than the warmth. It was so beautiful here; very hard not to be grateful to be alive on a night like this. And you realised you didn’t blame Jungkook for making you come here, after all.

“What were you doing before I came?” you spoke softly, not wanting to disturb the peacefulness of the night.

Jungkook took a sip from his glass and placed it on the small round table between your patio chairs.

“Writing,” he said.

You were surprised. “Writing?”

“Yeah.”

“As in, song lyrics?”

“Yeah,” he repeated. Then—his mind travelling a thousand miles per hour—he added, “you know, I wrote “Haunting” about you.”

Weirdly enough, while alcohol made most people sleepy or, at least slower, it seemed to ignite Jungkook’s mind instead. He wanted to see your reaction when he said this. Wanted, even drunk, to see if there was a reason for him to worry.

Meanwhile, you needed a moment to process what he’d just said and, even then, you weren’t entirely sure if you understood him.

“I—you did?” you stumbled, awkward.

“Yes.”

You looked away, the song fresh in your mind, because it wasn’t just the first Rated Riot song that you’d heard. It was also one of your favourites. You loved the ethereal melody—a strong focus on piano, the guitars reduced to the background and the bass only joining in on the chorus—and Jungkook’s raw vocals as he sang about resisting his dark urges.

You knew all of Rated Riot’s lyrics—hearing their songs every night paid off, but you’d have been lying if you said you didn’t like to listen to them in your free time as well—but it was the first verse and, particularly, the breathy, pained voice with which Jungkook sang it that always tugged at your heart:

It's wandering in my mind / It's haunting my daydreams / I follow after it, blind / I fall apart at the seams

After a minute, you finally spoke—awkward as you explained the meaning of his own lyrics to him, “I always thought it was about… well, searching for thrills even though that’s not good for you.”

“It is,” Jungkook said. “The beginning is. But the chorus is about you.”

Before you could ask anything else, he mouthed the lyrics under his breath so quietly that you were unsure if you weren’t only imagining him singing it since you’d listened to the song so many times before.

Can I find you when I break? / Can I find you when it’s too much? / Can you forgive all my mistakes? / Can you save me with your touch?

Jungkook had written plenty of songs on his own, but from what you’d heard in the studio, his lyrics used to be too abstract. That was the main reason why Namjoon used to scold him.

“It lacks feeling!” he’d shout, agitated by his own expectations for the vocalist. “It’s like you’re singing about a bag of bricks!”

You knew that many of Jungkook’s early songs didn’t have a specific subject in mind. In this particular case, you assumed he was singing about someone—anyone, really—extending a helping hand or providing a shoulder to lean on. It was a comforting song, nothing more than that.

Jungkook was almost grateful for the surprise on your face—he was worried you’d tell him that you knew. He’d always thought it was obvious that this song was about you. After all, you were the only one who was always there for him.

And, in any case, who else would he write about if not you? As soon as he was criticised for lacking emotion in his lyrics, he started to write from experience. And you were his experience.

But, of course, you didn’t think to look for yourself in his lyrics. You didn’t want to find yourself there.

And now you weren’t sure what the appropriate response was when someone told you they wrote a song about you. “Thank you” didn’t seem sufficient, because the song was about you, not for you. “I love it” also didn’t capture it, because you didn’t love it because it was about you. You just did.

So, you remained silent, watching the lights on the skyscraper across the street and the reflection of the dark clouds in the dark windows. The people behind them were likely asleep, resting before they started their day in a few hours.

“I think…” Jungkook began, his sentence ending sooner than he’d expected. His eyes were glossy when you looked at him. “I think I’m writing about you again.”

You swallowed and nervously bit your lower lip. The night was warm, but the wind on the roof was relentless. You couldn’t help shivering.

Your mind was running before you could stop it. You didn’t want to resume your conversation from Stockholm; it had managed to be too much by not being nearly enough. You couldn’t return there again.

But you still asked, “what were you writing?”

“About missing you.”

You sat there, absentmindedly tracing patterns on your dark jeans with the tip of your index finger. You tried to suppress the anticipation building in your stomach before it could fully manifest. Before it could turn into a terrifying disappointment. Before it could show you that you were lying to yourself when you said you’d moved on.

“Please don’t ask me why I’m doing this now,” Jungkook said in a strained whisper.

Your voice faltered as you said, “I won’t.”

“J-just so you know, I felt the same way back home,” he said. “The only difference is that here in Europe, you have no choice but to be around me.”

The implication was clear, even if his voice wasn’t accusing you of anything. He believed you were only spending time with him because your job required you to.

“I don’t… avoid you back home,” you defended weakly—the only way you knew how right now.

Last night, you’d told him you missed him and it didn’t end well. Actually, it didn’t end at all—it sort of hung over you and made this conversation uncomfortable. Like a scratchy sweater, rubbing on your skin in all the wrong ways.

“I know,” he said. “But you never put in special effort to see me, either.”

You took a sip of your cocktail, tossing your head back to finish it.

Placing the glass back down on the table between your seats, you finally said, “I didn’t know you wanted me to, until you brought it up the other day.”

“Yeah. I know that, too,” Jungkook said sadly. His moves mirrored yours as he picked his glass up, but stopped before bringing it to his lips. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. About Stockholm.”

The pounding of your heart was very loud, and your voice was very quiet.

“What are you sorry for?” you asked.

He looked down. “There were a lot of things I wanted to say to you, but I… didn’t know how. It got kind of, um, weird.”

He scoffed at his own choice of words, and you realised that you weren’t alone on this rooftop. There was Discomfort, Awkwardness, and Avoidance dancing around you two.

“It…” you began, but words didn’t come easy. “It shouldn’t have been weird.”

He shook his head. He was worried that this would happen. Worried that you’d take responsibility for last night. You’d say you were the manager, so you should have known better. Should have set stricter boundaries. Should have never crossed them.

Now, you added tentatively, “I-I mean, we’re friends, right?”

You could have smashed your glass on his head and that would have hurt less than the cursed word.

This wasn’t about friendship and you both knew it.

But you needed to feel better. Last night had scared you, he could tell as much. And now you needed to make sense of it. You needed to find a way to interpret it in a way that felt right to your standards.

Normally, he would have helped you. Anything to make you feel comfortable, that’s all he wanted anyway.

But, tonight, he was drunk. And so in love with you that it hurt.

“I don’t know what we are,” he said.

Your hands were restless as you tapped your fingers on your legs.

“I thought that’s what you wanted,” you said. “For us to be friends.”

“It is what I want, but it’s also—it’s much more than just—I’m sorry.” He slid his palms over his cheeks and pressed his hands together against his lips. “I don’t know how to—I could never put my thoughts into words in a way that wouldn’t be too much. Or too little.”

He thought that if his friends would have been here, they would have laughed. Four years he’s wanted you, waited for you, but pretended he didn’t.

Clearly, he needed lessons on how to openly discuss his feelings.

He inhaled—or tried to, anyway—and picked up his drink. You took this as an opportunity to look at him.

“You’re, um—you’re good at putting them into song lyrics, though,” you said.

He chuckled weakly and placed his empty glass down next to yours. There was Sadness, too, twirling on the rooftop. And faint traces of Regret.

“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe I’ll write another song about how much I want you.”

You inhaled too sharply to appear nonchalant. The consecutive “another song” and “I want you” pulsated painfully in your chest.

Alarmed by the sound of your breathing, Jungkook turned to look at you.

“I—sorry,” he said, reading your expression. “I can’t say that, right?”

The fingers of your right hand nervously grasped at the fingers of your left. You regretted not wearing longer clothing that you could pull on.

“No, you, um—well, you can say whatever you feel,” you said. “I just, uh… you know that I can’t say it back.”

He observed your fidgeting and initially interpreted it as discomfort. But now he believed it to be something else—a more prominent emotion, brought on by something other than just this conversation.

Uncertainty.

You said you couldn’t say it back. You meant that you weren’t allowed to, as his manager.

But you didn’t say that you didn’t want to say it back.

His voice trembled when he spoke, the words pouring out in one breath, “but what if we weren’t working together? What if we were somewhere in Oslo, on the roof of some bar, just the two of us? And this fucking never-ending Scandinavian wind, of course,” he paused when he saw a small smile make its way to your lips. “But the wind isn’t telling anyone anything, either. Wh-what would you say then?”

You looked up as if you could actually see the wind. You didn’t know what scared you more: thinking what it’d be like if you weren’t working together—because a few hours ago, that possibility seemed almost real—or admitting your thoughts out loud.

It returned, the heaviness of anticipation that you’d felt last night. You were very naïve to think you could stop it from coming back. To think you could quench the wishful thinking.

This anticipation seemed to control you more than you could control it.

“I’d say that this wind feels like we’re back on campus, loudly talking about our mid-terms and chasing after loose papers that wind had blown out of our hands,” you said. There was a reluctant, nostalgic smile on your face. “Then returning to my dorm room and listening to my neighbours argue about their dead plant, even though they’re both guilty of not looking after it. T-this feels like back then.”

“And how do you feel?” he asked near desperately.

You exhaled, but did not reply. Your skin tingled with pins and needles.

“It’s me,” he said, his tone gentler now. “There’s no one else here.”

And there it was – the moment that didn’t come in Stockholm.

Dizzy, you said, “I feel the same way as I did back then.”

Jungkook held his breath.

“I really need you to tell me,” he pleaded, “what way.”

You pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear and focused on suppressing the goosebumps that arose on every part of your skin that his eyes touched.

“Just… exhilarated. From life. From love,” you spoke, your eyes fluttering to him. Frightened by the intensity of his gaze as he watched you, you looked back at the edge of the roof. “From you.”

You heard his breath quiver.

“Look at me,” he asked in a stern, yet powerless whisper.

You did—and he forgot what he was going to say.

He felt like you were both back there again, too. Like nothing had changed—because nothing had, not fundamentally—like he could reach out and you’d be there. Providing him with the noise he needed to not feel alone, and the comfort he needed to not feel overwhelmed.

Neither of you realised that he had leaned in until you felt the warmth of his breath—laced with a strong scent of whiskey—on your lips. Until your lungs started to burn from holding your breath so hard. Until you parted your lips slightly and the oxygen that slipped in was so full of echoes of his taste that you felt the roof turning upside down.

He closed his eyes as he lingered millimetres away from you, the close proximity putting you both in a trance so painfully blissful that not connecting your lips seemed almost sacrilegious.

You were hypnotised, too overwhelmed by the familiarity of the feeling—the barely thereness of his lips against yours—to think of anything else.

You couldn’t pull away.

But, in a blind panic, he was the one who did.

Blinking in surprise as he moved away, you found yourself frozen, eyes locked on the empty space in front of you.

Jungkook stared at the ground, breathless and wide-eyed.

Even drunk, he couldn’t do this.

There was Minjun’s face in his head—his initial discomfort the first time he found out about the bet. There was the conversation in the bar—and the cake metaphor, even though Jungkook thought he neither had the cake, nor could he eat it. There was Sid in his head, too—his smug grin as he insisted Jungkook would lose.

He couldn’t breathe.

He could hear white noise in place of thoughts, and something else, too—his own screams.

What did I do, what did I do, what did I do, what did I—

You couldn’t hear his attempts to inhale because as soon as he pulled away, your own thoughts grew louder. The realisation of what had happened again—what had almost happened again—was so strong, it almost pushed you down to the floor. You had to grip your chair not to double over from the weight of it.

You knew he was drunk, despite seemingly sobering up a bit on the roof. And he pulled away. Meanwhile, you’d had a few drinks tonight and you were going to let him—were waiting for him to—kiss you.

Somehow, he’d managed to exhibit more rationality while intoxicated, than you could while nearly sober.

You stood up.

Pausing for a second as you debated if you should give him an excuse for why you were leaving, you mumbled something about calling him a taxi, and walked away without turning back.

The door slammed shut behind you, but Jungkook still didn’t dare to lift his gaze. He was too focused on clenching his fists so he wouldn’t throw the empty glasses down the side of the roof.

Alone on the staircase, you welcomed the emotion that had trailed after you all the way from Sweden.

You were angry.

But not at this. Not at what could’ve happened and didn’t. Not at him, not for leaning in, and not for pulling away.

You were angry at yourself. For letting yourself wish for something you shouldn’t have wished for. And for feeling disappointed when your wish didn’t come true.

Twice, you’ve found yourself on the edge of almost. Twice.

Last night, you’d told him it was easy to get overwhelmed by all the memories that your time together has brought back. But perhaps it wasn’t him who got overwhelmed. Perhaps it was you.

Perhaps seeing each other so often had blurred the lines, and you found yourself forgetting. Found yourself yearning. Hoping.

But the fact remained—and you repeated it in your head over and over again as you climbed the stairs down from the roof, clutching the railing as if your life depended on it—you broke up for a reason. You broke up for a reason. You broke up for a reason.

It was shocking how little that reason mattered when you closed your eyes in the taxi ten minutes later, and all you could picture was what it would’ve been like if you’d been the one to close the distance between your lips tonight.

And as thoughts of Reconnaissance and Nick’s offer returned to your mind on the ride back, you wondered if tonight was a pro or a con.

chapter title credits: bad omens, “careful what you wish for”

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#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook au #jungkook fanfiction #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfiction #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts au #bts x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #bts rockstar au #jungkook rockstar au #bts reactions #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fic

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sluttywonwoo · 8 months

Text

instead of you [part twenty-six] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, angst, smut (mdni)

word count: 5.1k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

additional smut warnings: oral (f receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms

The silence that followed your admission was excruciating. You wished you knew what Minho was thinking. He was impossible to read, aside from the evident anger written all over his face. His body language didn’t give much away either. He was closed off, arms folded across his chest, chin raised just slightly.

“So who are you then?” he demanded, tone even despite being the exact opposite mere moments ago.

“What?”

“Who are you? Are you just some girl that Jisung is using?”

“What the fuck, no!”

“Why are you acting like that’s some outrageous possibility? I just found out you’ve been lying to everyone all summer!”

“I’ve been Jisung’s best friend for like four years now, I’m all over his Instagram! Felix came to visit us and we all hung out, there are pictures of that too. I can’t believe you’d think I’m some random person!”

“You’ll have to forgive me for not thinking completely rationally right now!” he spat. “Why the hell would Jisung lie about- why would he say he had a girlfriend if he didn’t?”

“It’s a long story,” you mumbled with a sigh. “But we really don’t have time to get into that right now. I came up here because I was supposed to bring you back to the room.”

Minho made a face. “What, why?”

“Your cousins called.”

The shift in his demeanor was immediate. He visibly perked up, but only briefly, before seeming to remember the conversation he was having. “Jeongin and Yoon?”

“Yeah. Everyone else is on FaceTime with them right now. I told everyone I’d come to get you so that none of them would have to miss out on talking to him,” you explained. “So we should probably get going because I don’t know how long he has to chat.”

“Fine,” Minho surrendered easily, “but we’re not done talking about this.”

“Yeah, yeah I know,” you sighed again, still feeling nauseous. With everything that had already happened, you knew there was no way that this could end well. But now, now that one person knew it was all a lie, you were fucked. “Just… don’t tell anyone, please?”

He pursed his lips but nodded. “You sure have a lot of secrets to keep track of, don’t you?”

It was meant to sting, and it did, but you didn’t let him see the crack in the glass.

“I could say the same for you.”

You slipped into your room as soon as you got back to the penthouse, not wanting to face any of the other Hans, especially not your best friend. You collapsed onto the bed with a muffled scream into your pillow.

You expected yourself to start crying, but the tears didn’t come. They wouldn’t come. The initial panic had been replaced with numbness. Apathy personified, you could feel it spreading from your heart out through your veins, creating a tingling sensation that reached the very tips of your fingers.

You had to tell Jisung, right? He’d understand… probably. You hadn’t told Minho. He figured it out on his own. Yeah, you should tell Jisung and then you could also come clean about… everything else. Maybe. But maybe you could also take it to your grave since it seemed like any possibility of you and Minho becoming an item, whatever that implied, was out of the question now. You knew he didn’t want anything to do with you anymore. Not after tonight. You couldn’t erase his look of betrayal from your mind no matter how hard you tried.

Just how many people were you hurting by merely being on this trip? There was no way to know for sure, not that knowing would make you feel any less guilty.

Maybe it was better not to tell Jisung. Maybe you could pretend like everything was fine, and then it would be. But that was what had gotten you in trouble in the first place.

You hadn’t realized you had fallen asleep until you woke up with a jolt some hours later. The room was dark. The lamp had been switched off and the blinds were shut. Jisung was snoring softly beside you. He was tucked under the covers while you were still laying on top of them.

You rolled over and felt for your phone, finding it underneath your pillow. You were surprised to see that you had missed a text from Minho. It was from an hour and a half ago and just said can you meet me in room 422?

You weren’t sure if he would still be waiting there since it had been so long since he sent the message, but you responded with a tentative sure and quietly snuck out of your bedroom. You hoped Jisung wouldn’t wake up before you returned. Having to explain where you were or why you were there would only complicate things. You still hadn’t decided whether or not to tell him… anything. You needed more time to think things through. At least, that’s the excuse you told yourself.

The fourth floor was eerily quiet, reminding you of how late it was. Stepping off the elevator into the hallway felt like a mistake, like you were trespassing on private property. Minho hadn’t replied to your text so you didn’t know if he was still awake, but you knocked at the door anyway. He answered after the second knock.

“There you are,” he said and stepped aside to let you in. He seemed to have cooled down, which was a good sign, but there was still tension lingering between you.

You slid by him, stopping in the entryway just past the door. The room he had summoned you to was just a plain hotel room. There was a queen-size bed in the middle of the room and a desk in the corner, but not much else.

“You can sit wherever.”

You nodded in acknowledgment and perched yourself on the edge of the bed. Minho followed you but refrained from sitting, choosing to lean back against the dresser so that he could face you.

“Why’d you want to meet me here?” you asked.

“I, uh, thought that talking in my room back at the apartment would look kind of weird if anyone saw us,” he explained awkwardly, “and the walls are thin too.”

“Alright, you have a point,” you admitted with a shaky exhale. “Whose room is this?”

“It’s mine. I went down to the lobby and booked it for the night.”

Oh to have a K-pop-sized disposable income.

“Oh, right. Should have thought of that.” You swallowed thickly, trying still to appear calm, cool, and collected. “Well, what did you want to talk about?”

You realized that Minho hadn’t mentioned wanting to talk in his text. You were just assuming. But given the events of the night, you felt that it was a pretty safe assumption to make.

“I wanted to know why you and Jisung lied to everyone,” he took a brief pause before continuing, “and why I now have to lie to everyone too.”

You bit your tongue, stopping yourself before you could point out that he was already lying to everyone, and just nodded.

“So the thing is, when he told your parents he had a girlfriend, he did have a girlfriend. They broke up, like, less than a week after he told them that and I guess he was too embarrassed to break the news because they were so excited for him and had already invited her on the trip. Jisung figured that maybe he’d have another girlfriend by the time he actually had to go on the trip, but when the end of the semester rolled around and he didn’t, I kind of filled the vacancy because he asked me to.”

“But why?” Minho pressed. “Why was it so important for him to be dating someone?”

“I don’t know, actually. He told me that it was to make your parents happy because they were always bugging him about his dating life, but I thought there might have been another reason that he just wasn’t telling me.”

Minho hummed thoughtfully. “Mom and dad are pretty nosy about our lives, but I don’t know why he would feel pressured to be in a relationship.”

“I think he felt like he had something to prove,” you said, choosing your words carefully. You knew how rocky Jisung’s relationship with his older brother was, at least from what he told you. You didn’t want to give Minho anything he could hold against him. “You’re not going to say anything to your parents or Felix, are you?”

“No,” he answered immediately and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “That’s his prerogative, I suppose. I don’t want to start anything between us- it’s not my place to say anything, really.”

“Thank you.”

He let his arms drop to his sides but didn’t move from where he was standing. “So, there’s really nothing going on between you and Jisung?”

“No, I swear.”

“Even after spending all this time together on the trip?”

“Nope, we spend all of our time together anyway.”

“So are you… friends with benefits?” he asked.

“No. We’ve made out a few times, but it really just happens when we’re drunk. We never slept together.”

“But what about…” he trailed off, but you understood what he was talking about instantly.

“Oh, no! That was all fake. We just did that to sell it more, and sometimes to mess with you guys.”

“I knew there was no way he could be that good,” Minho whispered.

You chuckled but came to your friend’s defense. “He seems to do pretty well for himself. Girls usually call him back after staying over so he must be doing something right.”

“I can’t believe it was fake,” Minho mumbled, mostly to himself. “Sorry, I’m still processing this.”

“Take your time.”

You leaned back on the palms of your hands, feeling a little more relaxed now that you knew he didn’t hate you.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked finally, letting the mask fall the tiniest bit. “After I kissed you the first time? Or when you kissed me back? This whole time I’ve felt like such an asshole for- for everything that happened.”

“I thought about it,” you admitted, “but Jisung and I agreed that it would stay between us. I’m sorry.”

“I get why you didn’t. I just wish it could have been different.”

“Me too,” you agreed.

Minho crossed over to the bed and sat down next to you.

“I’m sorry I went through your stuff.”

You threw your head back laughing. You hadn’t expected him to say that. “It’s fine. Honestly, it’s a relief not to have to keep up the act around you anymore.”

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” Minho raised an eyebrow and grinned, making you shy away from his gaze.

You looked down at your lap.

“Because it was exhausting! I don’t know how to act.” It was a half-truth, and you suspected that he knew it.

“You had me fooled.”

You managed to look back up at him only to find him staring at your lips. This was not how you imagined this conversation going at all.

“Maybe I should change career paths then,” you choked out.

“Yeah, maybe.”

A few more beats of silence lapsed between you before Minho spoke again.

“All of this time we could have been doing this,” he murmured gently.

You scrunched your face up in confusion. “What’s ‘doing this’?”

He leaned forward and bridged the gap between you by pressing his lips to yours to answer your question. His hand came up to your hair instinctively, muscle memory, and brushed it out of your face before cupping your jaw. You melted into him like you had done too many times before, letting him trace the curves of your face with his thumb like he was trying to memorize it.

His palm was warm and you could feel the calluses on his hand against your cheek. You were the first to moan, any embarrassment long forgotten as you climbed onto his lap.

Minho accommodated your weight easily, hands immediately coming down to grab your ass. He allowed you to push him down so that he was lying flat on the bed with you straddling his waist.

Minho slipped his tongue into your mouth as the kiss intensified, teasing you with it. You whimpered when he pulled away, bottom lip jutting out into a pout. Minho just smirked and used the opportunity to flip you over so that he was on top.

Then his lips were back on you, brushing against your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. As soon as you felt his teeth graze your skin you pushed his head back and gave him a look. It was his turn to pout.

“You can’t leave marks, idiot.”

“Oh yeah, sorry,” he said apologetically, though the shit-eating grin on his face let you know that he didn’t mean it whatsoever. “Well, you can mark me up as much as you want.”

You rolled your eyes. “Lucky me.”

Minho ignored your comment and raised himself onto his hands, still hovering over you. He looked pretty, even in the dim, yellowy hotel room light. His lips were already a bit puffy, but he hadn’t even been kissing you for that long. You briefly wondered how they’d look after making out with your cunt, all swollen and glossy. You tried to squeeze your thighs together at the thought, legs closing around Minho’s hips instead. He seemed pleased at your eagerness and rewarded you with another kiss.

“Can I take your shirt off?” he asked when he came up for air. You nodded. “Here, lift up a little.”

You did as he asked so that he could work the t-shirt over your head, laughing when he tossed it on the floor.

“You weren’t wearing a bra?”

“I was about to go to sleep!”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Likely story.”

“No, you’re right. I came here in my pajamas fully intending to seduce you.”

“Well, it worked.”

“Of course it did. Men are so easy.”

He shook his head, tongue poking his cheek. “You’re going to regret saying that.”

You cocked your head to the side, fully aware that Minho had the physical upper hand. “We’ll see.”

As soon as the words left your mouth Minho’s hands were on your boobs, effectively shutting you up. He circled a thumb around each of your nipples, smirking when you gasped and arched your back.

“Barely even touching you and look how eager you are for me,” he mused.

“T-take your shirt off too.” It was meant to be a command, but it sounded more like a plea.

“What’s the magic word?”

“Fuck you.”

“Fine, since you asked so nicely.”

Minho reached behind his neck and yanked his t-shirt off, throwing it in the same general direction as he had thrown yours. You had seen Minho shirtless plenty of times before and you still couldn’t help but stare. His body looked like one of those statues you had seen in the Louvre, carved out of marble by one of the artists they named the Ninja Turtles after.

You reached out to touch his chest, running your fingertips along his pale skin.

“Can I take these off too?” Minho asked, playing with the hem of your sweats. He snapped the elastic band against your hip, making you flinch.

“Yes, please get them off of me, it’s hot,” you whined.

You were left in just your underwear beneath him. You were usually pretty confident with sexual partners, but with Minho you felt exposed, vulnerable. You felt the urge to cover yourself, even though he was looking at you like you were a star amongst the cosmos.

He repositioned himself lower in between your legs and before you could ask what he was doing, he pressed his tongue against your clothed cunt, licking a fat stripe between your folds.

You cried out in surprise, hips bucking into his face as a string of curses left your mouth.

Minho raised his head, smiling sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I’ve been imagining what you taste like for weeks. I just had to know.”

“It felt good,” you assured him, silently begging him to continue. “Was it what you hoped it would be?”

“Better. Can I please keep going?”

“God, yes.”

He placed a hand on either one of your thighs to hold you down as he buried his head in between your legs again. He teased you with his tongue over your panties, finding your clit in an impressively short amount of time. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pushing his head against you. He groaned, his grip on your thighs tightening as you pulled his hair.

“Please, need more,” you whined.

And Minho was all too willing to give you exactly that. Instead of taking the time to take your panties off, he just pulled them to the side so that he could have complete access to your pussy. He went back to work and you both moaned. His tongue was wet and warm and felt perfect on your clit. You frowned when he started moving lower, confused as to what he was doing until you felt his tongue working you open. No one had ever tongue-fucked you before and you thought you might cum from that alone.

Minho paused again to catch his breath. “Fuck, I knew you were wet, but I didn’t expect you to be this wet,” he rasped out.

“Sorry,” you hissed, cheeks warm with embarrassment.

“Who the fuck ever told you to apologize for being turned on?”

“N-no one.”

“Good, because it’s hot.”

You scoffed.

“Lay back down,” Minho said, nodding at you to punctuate his point.

You rolled your eyes at him but did as he said anyway. “You’re so bossy.”

“Do you want me to keep going or not?”

“Fine, fine. Sorry.”

“I fucking knew you were a brat,” he sneered.

“What gave it away?” you asked sweetly.

“Take a wild guess.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows again despite just being told to lie down. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Instead of answering, Minho hooked his arms under your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the bed, making you lose your balance and yelp in surprise. You watched his shoulder muscles flex as he used his strength to push your hips down, preventing you from squirming. The sight was enough to make you want to squeeze your thighs together, but of course, Minho was stopping you from doing just that.

He pulled your panties off completely this time, apparently frustrated with the obstacle in his way. They joined the heap of clothes on the ground. You didn’t even need to look at them to know that they were ruined.

His mouth was back on you before you could get another word in, causing any snarky remark you’d been about to make dissolve into a moan. It was a little sloppy at first. He had yet to fully regain his bearings, but dove in headfirst anyway. Kisses against the crux of your thigh, nips at your hip bones. Teasing and experimental.

His touch didn’t have the practiced familiarity of a lover. Each movement was eager, exploratory. He was learning your body like he had all the time in the world, but you were growing impatient.

Your hands flew to his hair again as he finally laved his tongue over your clit. You suppressed your moans this time, remembering what he had said about the neighbors.

“Fuck, keep going,” you hissed, encouraging him to continue. “Please keep going.”

You could feel Minho smirking against your pussy, but you didn’t care. He could be as cocky as he wanted if he was going to make you feel this good.

It didn’t take much to get you to the edge. It had been a while since you’d gotten laid, and you had been wanting Minho for God knows how long… you would usually be embarrassed, not want to give a man a bigger ego than he already had, but you had a feeling Minho was trying to get you to cum before fucking you and you wanted him inside of you as quickly as possible. If anything, you were doing him a favor.

“C-close, Min. ‘M really close!”

You could barely make out the muffled “already?” that came from him between your legs, but you still rolled your eyes anyway, half-tempted to push his head away.

He guided two of his fingers inside of you, giving you something to clench around as you came. The intention behind the action is what did it. He clearly cared about your pleasure which was rare to find in a partner, especially when said partner was a man.

You came almost instantly, catching Minho off-guard as if “I’m close” hadn’t been warning enough. He must have taken it as an advanced notice rather than an immediate head’s up. He grunted in surprise as you bucked your hips up into his face, but recovered quickly, helping you ride out the orgasm until you relaxed back on the bed.

He lifted his head finally, grinning like he’d just won the lottery, and sucked your arousal off of his fingers, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand shortly afterward.

“Good?” he asked.

“Really good,” you managed to choke out.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, take your pants off.”

Minho chuckled. “Should’ve known you’d only want me for my body.”

You pursed your lips but didn’t bother responding. You both knew that wasn’t true. Otherwise, why would you be risking everything just to fuck him?

Minho pushed himself off of the bed and shimmied out of his pants. As good as he looked in the gray sweats, you knew he would look even better with them off. And you were right. Even though he was still wearing his briefs, you could see the outline of his dick much more prominently. It made your mouth water and you sat up and shifted onto your knees to return the favor he had just given you.

Minho saw you reaching out for him but shook his head.

“I need to feel you,” he said, voice strained. “If that’s okay. I already almost came in my pants just from eating you out, I won’t last.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Not many men would admit to that.”

“Not many men would admit to getting off on making their partner feel good? You’re right.”

You watched as he picked his pants up off the floor and pulled a condom out of one of the pockets.

“Oh now you have a condom?” you teased.

“Look, I usually have them on me, I just didn’t that night,” he exclaimed in defense, the thin foil packet between his teeth. He ripped it open and pulled the rubber out, only pausing when you spoke again.

“You don’t keep them in your wallet, do you?”

“I do, but I change them out pretty often. Is that okay?”

“That’s fine.”

With that settled, he slipped out of his underwear and rolled the condom on with ease. He joined you on the bed a moment later. You laid back and waited for Minho to position himself.

“Wait-” you whispered suddenly, having been so in the moment that you had almost forgotten. “Are you clean?”

Minho let out a sigh of relief, probably having thought something was wrong. “Yeah, I got tested like two months ago.”

“But the other night with that girl-”

“I didn’t sleep with her.”

“Oh. Why?”

“I mean, I fully intended to, if I’m being honest. But I just… couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t get it up?”

“Something like that,” he sighed. “I probably should’ve asked this before going down on you, but you’re clean too, right?”

You nodded. “I get tested all the time and I haven’t had sex in a while.”

“That makes two of us.”

You looked at him expectantly. “You may… continue.”

“I’m surprised that didn’t immediately make my dick soft.”

“Oh, give me a break. My brain is still fuzzy from cumming.”

He snorted. “You’re welcome.”

“I can’t believe that didn’t immediately make me dry up.”

“I’m allowed to be cocky!” he protested. “I made you cum in, what, a minute flat?”

“It took longer than a minute!”

“I don’t know about that. I think we should check the replay.”

“You’re such a dork.”

Minho rolled his eyes. “And that must really turn you on. ‘Cause last time I checked you were dripping onto the sheets.”

“I-” you had nothing. You squeezed your thighs around Minho’s waist, trying to coax him inside of you. “Just stick it in already!”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he repeated.

You held onto his arms as he pushed himself in, sighing in relief at the fullness. He wasn’t the biggest you’d ever had, but he was still sizable. You had to take a second to adjust to the stretch before he could start to move. He fit perfectly, at least that’s what it felt like. You were positive he could tell how much you liked his cock from the way you unconsciously clenched around him, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to care. If his ego inflated to the size of the moon after this, fuck it.

“Fuck, st-stop doing that,” Minho stuttered, pressing one of his hands against your hip to try and keep you still.

“I’m not doing anything!”

“You’re, God, you’re squeezing me so tight,” he hissed. “If you keep clenching like that I’m gonna cum.”

“Oh sorry, I didn’t even realize.”

You took a deep breath and willed your body to relax. It had been so long since you’d been properly fucked and you didn’t want it to be over before it even started.

“Are you good to keep going?” Minho asked once he’d regained some semblance of composure.

“Yeah,” you breathed out. “Yeah, fuck please move.”

He leaned down to kiss you as he began to rock his hips into yours and you met him halfway. You could still taste yourself on his tongue, on his lips. He groaned into your mouth and nipped at your bottom lip when you pulled away.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he confessed, voice raspy.

Baby was new. And it made you whimper in response.

“So goddamn tight. It’s like your pussy was made for me.”

Did he say this to every girl he fucked? Because it sounded like a line, but it was working like a charm on you.

As if he realized he was rambling, he busied his mouth in other ways. He kissed your neck, careful not to leave marks, before moving down to the valley of your breasts where he continued his work. The way he lowered himself onto you pushed his cock in even deeper, something you didn’t think was possible.

His lips were warm. They were so warm. Each kiss felt like you were touching the sun. You could feel the heat against your skin even as he moved away, pressing kisses elsewhere.

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Minho asked.

You hadn’t even realized that you had been smiling, or that he had stopped kissing you. He was going faster now too. You hadn’t noticed that either. You were far too gone, clearly.

“Feels good,” was as much as you could manage, but that seemed to satisfy Minho.

“Yeah? Have I fucked you dumb already?” he cooed condescendingly.

You nodded. “Feels sooo good. Feel so full.”

You’d be embarrassed by your barely-comprehensible sentences, but you didn’t have the capacity to feel anything other than pleasure in that moment. You doubted you’d even remember what you said in the morning.

“You close again, baby?”

“Uh huh.”

“Fuck, me too. I’ll get you there, though. I’ll make you feel even better.”

He brought one of his hands down to your clit and used his thumb to rub somewhat uncoordinated circles on it. He was gentler than he had been before, like he knew you were still sensitive from cumming the first time. The added stimulation brought you back to the edge in record time and all you could do to alert Minho of what was happening was frantically grab his bicep and squeeze it repeatedly.

“Gonna cum? Go ahead, baby.”

Your entire body tensed as your second orgasm of the night washed over you. Minho fucked you through it again, announcing that he was cumming right as you started to come down. Watching his face scrunch up in pleasure as he came was almost enough to send you into a third orgasm. His eyes shut and his mouth fell open into an O shape as his hips faltered. He didn’t stop thrusting until he was certain he’d given you every last drop of his cum, choking out a string of curses followed by your name through gritted teeth.

He collapsed on top of you seconds later, completely spent and still inside of you.

“Fuck, that was good,” he panted. You nodded in agreement, wincing when you felt him pull out. “You okay?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think I can walk. My legs feel like jelly.”

“Would another orgasm help?”

“No,” you groaned. “I can’t take another one.”

“I was kidding. C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up and back to your room.”

“Nooo, I’m tired,” you whined.

“I know, I know,” he said softly, “but you can’t sleep here. Unless you want Jisung to find out?”

“Fine,” you mumbled. Your eyes were closed, but you could hear him moving around the hotel room. “Just give me like five minutes to nap.”

“You know I can’t do that.” When you opened your eyes he was wearing pants again and standing beside the bed waiting for you. “You need to shower. And pee. A UTI in the middle of vacation would really suck.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“You’re impossible.”

“You knew that before sleeping with me.”

“Yeah, and I still did it anyway. Now, get up.”

“You’re so bossy,” you muttered under your breath, repeating the sentiment you had already voiced. Minho just chuckled and helped you to your feet.

“You seemed to like that earlier.”

“Yeah, when you were making me cum.”

“Well, I won’t be able to make you cum anymore if you contract an infection. So I have to be bossy or else you won’t listen.”

“Or else you won’t listen,” you mocked.

Minho grinned despite himself and shook his head at you. “We should’ve started doing this way sooner.”

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withleeknow · 2 months

Text

wishful thinking. (05)

chapter five: say what you mean

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; mentions of sex, kissing, we’re starting to dip our toes into angsty territory !!, less edited than i’d like but what’s new lol word count: 2.8k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

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Get me a drink, I get drunk off one sip, just so I can adore you I want the entire street out of town just so I can be alone with you Now go when you’re ready My head’s getting heavy, pressed against your arm Just to adore you, I adore you

Adore - Dean Lewis

Whenever Minho asks if you two could hang out together at your place, it usually means that you will end up in your bed.

Tonight you suppose is no different.

Even though you often cap off the night having engaged in activities that could make the Victorian lady in Hyunjin faint, it’s not all that you do. Both you and Minho never let yourselves forget that you’re friends first and foremost. Sex is the added benefit that should never take anything away from your friendship. He is still one of the people you’re most comfortable with, one of the few people whose company you enjoy.

You’re sprawled out on the couch in your small living room when Minho returns from the kitchen with a plate of freshly peeled tangerines, the same ones that he brought over earlier. You push yourself to half-sit up so he could squeeze himself between you and the armrest, before you go back to laying your head on his lap as you two resume watching a bad movie that you put on.

“I hate this so much,” you comment, your eyes glued to the TV screen.

“You picked the movie,” Minho says. “It’s not that bad. The plot is kind of decent.”

“I’m not talking about that. Jeez, if they wanted to make a movie where the main character is a graphic designer, you’d think that they would at least consult someone who knows literally anything about visual art. Look at that horrendous typography job, the text isn’t even aligned with the edges and corners. This is hurting my soul.”

Your cushions (Minho’s thighs) shake lightly as he laughs at your dramatic outburst over something as trivial as a fictional character’s poor standards of digital art. But you really aren’t kidding; the way the woman on screen is butchering the text alignment is quite literally making that very particular part of your brain want to shut down for the next five to seven business days.

“They should’ve consulted you first, is that right?” Minho asks.

“They really should have. I could’ve done wonders for them,” you say matter-of-factly. “I almost majored in graphic design, y’know.”

You have a habit of biting your tongue around others because you know that people don’t really care about the same things you do. Whenever the opportunity arises for you to share tidbits about your interests, excitement would tumble out of you only to be quashed soon after when no one wants to listen to your silly little rambles. It’s disheartening, you’re used to it.

But you never feel that way around Minho. He always lets you babble on about anything and everything, even if he might not know what the hell you’re talking about. He indulges you. He never makes you feel neglected or ignored.

“Hmm, my little genius artist.” He taps your cheek once, and when you turn your head to glance at him, he tells you to open up before he slips a slice of tangerine past your lips. “You’re right. Even I can tell that it’s horrendous.”

You hum appreciatively when the sweetness of the juicy fruit floods your tastebuds. Minho’s hand trails down your arm to rest on your stomach, just below your ribs where he fiddles with the worn fabric of your sleep shirt. If he moves his hand up, he would be grazing your bare chest underneath your shirt. You didn’t bother with a bra because, well, comfort above all else, especially within the four walls of your own home. Besides, it’s nothing that Minho hasn’t seen anyway.

He keeps on feeding you tangerines in between your complaints about bad design standards until the movie ends and the plate is cleared. The only sound in the room is the soft music on the TV as the credits start to roll.

You turn to lie on your back, staring up at Minho. “That was deeply disturbing.”

“You chose it,” he reminds you. “You went in knowing what the premise was.”

“Yeah, I have no one to blame but me. I had too much faith in humanity.”

“And you call me weird.”

“You are weird,” you say. “But I like weird.”

Minho looks down at you and for a moment, he says nothing. His fingers trace something on your stomach. A heart or an odd circle, you don’t know; you’re always bad at deciphering those. His eyelids fall a bit, softening the usual sharpness of his gaze.

Then he’s pulling you by your shoulders, guiding you to sit up and before you know it, you’re situated on his lap with one of his hands on your waist, the other on the back of your neck. Minho tugs you closer, meeting your lips in a kiss in which you waste no time returning.

He’s sweet, like the tangerines that you were sharing all evening. It tends to start like this - sort of randomly, whenever it feels right. He squeezes your side in a comforting gesture as his tongue slips into your mouth. There are times where it’s more urgent, where one of you is needy and desperately seeks the escape and release that can only be found in the other’s embrace. Other times, it’s slower, more gentle, where you can really focus on making each other feel fully satiated.

This, right now - you would pinpoint somewhere in the middle. There’s no fiery clothes-ripping urge, nor a need to lay the other person bare and knead every single knot of stress from their system. Today, there’s just languid wanting; an unhurried inclination to be close.

Him and his tangerine flavored kiss, you and your resolve built on shaky foundation.

You start rolling your hips over his, tugging on his shirt because you want to feel his skin against yours. Minho stops you though; he puts both hands on your hips and pulls his lips away from yours. You blink, dazed, confused.

“I...” he starts, trying to even out his breathing as he finds the words. “I don’t want to have sex tonight.”

Embarrassment instantly washes over you. The rejection is a little humiliating; it’s the first time you’ve ever felt like this around him. Your cheeks catch fire from the mortification, and you’re very aware that you’re still sitting in his lap, right over his crotch.

Wanting to climb off of him and just fucking bury yourself in a ditch, you start stuttering like an absolute fool, “Oh... Y-yeah, no, of course! Shit, shit, I’m sorry. Of course we don’t have t-”

Minho holds you in place, one of the hands on your hips goes to cup your cheek to make you look at him. It effectively shuts you right up.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have phrased it like that,” he says, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone in an earnest apology. “I just want to keep kissing you. Is that okay?”

You’re at a loss for words. He’s holding your face, your waist, so delicately. He looks drunk on your presence alone even though neither of you have had a single drop of alcohol tonight, so sincere in his simple request that you feel your heart swell tenfold.

You want it too. You’re more than okay with just kissing him.

You don’t answer him verbally. Instead, you just nod and move to kiss him again, your hands tangled in his soft hair. The sweetness of the tangerines grows more and more distant as you chase his lips, but you can taste his smile. It’s infinitely more saccharine, and it only grows sweeter when he holds you close and knocks the breath out of you.

When you pull away for air, you slump against him, hiding your face in the crook of his face, shy all of a sudden. He keeps you there but continues with his onslaught of kisses - on your hair, your cheek, your neck, anywhere his lips can reach. Like he simply can’t get enough of you.

“You really like kissing,” you comment, giggling quietly as you do. “Even when we… y’know, bone.”

“Bone? You’re so romantic, babe.” You feel the rumbles of Minho’s chest as he lets out a hearty laugh, the sound of which fills the space of your modest home, embeds itself in every nook and crevice, in between every minuscule crack in your walls until the whole place feels warmer, brighter somehow. “Are you complaining?”

“No... just pointing it out.”

“Well, I like kissing you,” he says. “You’re not a terrible kisser, I guess.”

You sit up straighter and catch the teasing grin on his face before you roll your eyes. “Gee, thanks. You really know how to sweet talk a girl.”

“Says the girl who uses ‘bone’ to describe sex.”

“It’s a perfectly good euphemism for ‘sex’.”

“You might as well just say ‘boink’.”

“Literally shut up.”

“Sure.”

Then he’s pressing his mischievous smile against your mouth once more, and you can’t really wrap your mind around how it’s even possible that he keeps getting sweeter and sweeter. His sugary kisses send warmth tingling up your spine, make a fluttery sensation erupt in your stomach. You’re lightheaded, and not the kind that can be remedied by a sufficient fix of blood oxygen.

Even though you’re perfectly content with kissing, there’s a certain implication that comes with only kissing that you’re not sure what to do with. He’s literally inside of you on a weekly basis and yet, this feels much more intimate than anything you two have ever done.

Because friends don’t kiss each other the way he’s kissing you right now. Friends don’t kiss each other the way you’re kissing him back.

A chime from your phone breaks you two apart, the intrusion forcing a mildly frustrated grunt from Minho. You find the mobile device hidden between the cushions of your couch, and after you quickly scan the notification on the screen, you tell him, “It’s Hyunjin.”

“What did I say? It’s always him at the scene of the crime,” Minho mutters, speaking in the same tone that one would when their sibling interrupts a round of their favorite video game. “What does he want?”

“Just wants me to send him a photo of the sample portfolio from our class.”

“Ignore him. He can wait.”

“He’ll call me if I don’t reply.”

“He’s so annoying,” Minho grumbles but loosens his hold on you nonetheless. “Hurry back.”

“It’ll only take a minute, you big baby,” you chuckle, pressing a swift peck to his lips before you get up from the couch and head toward your bedroom with your phone in hand, searching for the binder that Hyunjin is asking about.

Once you’ve snapped the picture and sent it to your friend, you return to the living room. When Minho hears your footsteps, he holds out an arm, silently beckoning you into his embrace again. And you do. You slide into the space next to him, slotting perfectly against his side.

Your fingers absentmindedly trace along his forearm until they reach his wrist. “This is pretty,” you say, touching the thin link bracelet that he always wears, the one with a small charm hanging off the center in the simple outline of a dove.

“You like it? I’ve had it for ages.”

“Mhmm, it suits you.”

A moment passes where you both sit in silence as you fiddle with the gold jewelry, and you can feel Minho’s eyes on your face the entire time. After a while, he pries your fingers off his skin, only to swiftly take off the trinket.

“No, Min. What are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer you. You attempt (in vain) to pull your wrist back but Minho is stronger. He holds it in place as he clasps the chain around your wrist.

“Minho, you are not giving me your bracelet.”

“Relax. It’s not like it was passed down from my great-great-grandfather. It’s just a random bracelet I bought when I was 18.”

“Why would you even give me your bracelet?”

He shrugs, as though he’s merely doing something as simple as letting you borrow you a pen. “It looks good on you.”

You look down to where his hand is still on your skin, his thumb gently sliding over your pulse point as he admires how the dainty gold reflects the dim lighting in your home.

And he’s right. It does look good, but he probably doesn’t mean it in the same way that you’re thinking of right now. You think it looks good because it’s something that belongs to him that’s now wrapped snugly around your wrist, like some sort of affirmation spoken in a language that only the two of you can understand.

Minho leans over and presses his warm lips to your forehead. It takes you by surprise, the way he does it as if it’s second nature to be this affectionate with you. It’s a tipping point, then suddenly your thoughts are running rampant.

The instruction has always been plain and simple: No strings attached.

But...

The chaste kisses with no expectation of sex, being protective when you’re in the presence of other guys, even giving you his bracelet to wear just because you said it was pretty.

Why do all of these sound an awful lot like strings?

You hesitate, then you ask, “What are we doing?”

“Hmm? You wanna watch another movie?”

“No, that’s not... What are we doing?” You don’t even know what word to put more emphasis on.

Minho looks at you and loosens his fingers. What he can’t understand through your words, you think he sees it in your eyes. “Say what you mean.”

“Are we friends?”

“Of course we are.”

“Are we still friends?”

“Do you not want to be friends anymore?” He cracks a smile, but you can tell that he’s just doing it to lighten you up. “You have terrible timing. I literally just gave you a bracelet.”

“Friends don’t do that.”

“Friends don’t give each other bracelets?”

“Friends don’t kiss like that.”

Minho seems a bit taken aback, though he regains his composure in mere seconds, his voice calm as he tells you, “Friends don’t have sex either.”

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t know. What are you saying? You brought it up.”

You open your mouth, only to subsequently close it because your thoughts were never really that coherent in the first place. You look away from him to glance down at your wrist.

“You’re being confusing,” Minho says quietly, honestly.

“I just… I don’t want anything to change.”

“Did anything change for you?” he asks.

“No,” is what you tell him after a long minute, when what you really mean to say is I don’t know. You can see it as it happens, some stars fading from his eyes, some light growing more faint in his irises. Though the despondence on his face disappears so fast that you’re not sure if it was even there at all, or if it was only a figment of your imagination.

Then you throw the question back at him. “Did anything change? For you?”

Minho’s answer is the same as yours - a clear No - and yet, it makes you feel like you’ve been punctured by something sharp. You don’t know why your heart drops upon hearing him say the exact same thing that you did, but you try not to let it show on your face. Your poker face isn’t anywhere as good as his, but you hope that it’s enough.

You give him a tight-lipped smile and nod a little.

“Then nothing’s changed.” He strokes your hair, emphasizing his point with a soft smile as he reassures you, “And nothing has to change. It’s a bracelet, don’t overthink it. We’re good.”

Sometimes, the decisions you make are bad because you can foresee the outcomes, or at least, you have an idea of the consequences will be later on and yet, you still choose to go through with it anyway.

Just like how you chose to watch a movie you knew would drive you crazy with its trivial details, you choose to accept the feeling of Minho’s bracelet around your wrist. You choose to believe him when he said nothing has changed, and that nothing has to change. You choose to sweep under the rug the thoughts that you’ve been having about him lately. You choose to overlook the reason why you’ve been having those thoughts instead of facing it head-on because you’re terrified of what you’d find if you dig deeper.

You choose to let the conversation end here though it still lingers in your mind, and you choose to let him kiss you goodnight when he leaves because tonight has already been a series of bad decision after bad decision anyway.

And when you fall asleep, it’s the soothing coolness of the golden dove against your skin that lulls you to slumber, like he’s here right beside you to hold you through the night.

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lanadelnegan · 8 months

Text

My Past, My Future - Part 1

Negan x Reader x Daryl (love triangle)

Part 2 here

Summary: Daryl is in love with you, but you're in love with Negan.

Warnings: 18+, smut, love triangle, p in v, romantic negan, angst, breeding

Note: this was requested from an anon (Negan saying goodbye to Lucille and confessing his love to y/n.) I decided to spice it up and throw Daryl in there. <3

"Lucille, baby. If you were here, you'd be so fuckin' disappointed in me.... But hell, if you were still here, things probably never would have made it to this point to begin with... Turned into a fuckin' monster when the world took you from me. Hope wherever the hell you are, you weren't watchin'. Truth is? I couldn't stand seeing anyone fuckin' happy because you took all my happiness with you when you left. But baby... I think I've found happiness again... "

Negan sighs heavily as he traces the wood grain of his beloved bat.

"She reminds me of you. So carefree and down-to-earth. If you met her, you'd understand... You'd want me to be happy, right? Hell, I've done enough suffering.. even though I probably deserved it. Anyways.."

Negan brings Lucille to his lips, pressing softly as his eyes squeeze shut.

"What I'm trying to say is.. you taught me how to love, Lucille. I'm forever grateful for that. And you'll always have a part of me. You're my past. But y/n... she's my future."

He tosses the bat into the fire, watching the wood burn bittersweetly as it concludes that chapter of his life.

----------------------------------------------------------

"Hey, where've you been?" Carol asks, jogging up to Negan as he arrives back at Alexandria.

"Had to take care of something." Negan shrugs. "You seen y/n around?"

"On a run with Daryl.. They should be back soon... Why?" Carol scrunches her brows at Negan and his jaw twitches at the mention of Daryl's name.

Daryl has been there for y/n since the very beginning, which is partly why Negan spared Daryl and let him live. Y/n begged Negan to let Daryl come back to Alexandria after Negan took him to the sanctuary, and he allowed it because even then, he had a soft spot for her.

Negan grunts. "No reason."

-----------------------------------------------------------

You and Daryl have been gone for a few hours now and you managed to find some canned goods on your run, weighing down your backpack. The sun is starting to go down just as you see the gates of Alexandria in the near distance and you grunt, adjusting the heavy bag on your shoulder.

Daryl notices your struggling and doesn't hesitate to grab your bag off your shoulder, throwing it over his.

He's been there by your side since the beginning and saved your lives more times than you can count.. helped you when you needed it. Even during the smallest inconveniences, like right now.

"You don't have to carry that."

"I know." Daryl grunts, adjusting your backpack next to his own on his back.

The rest of your walk is silent as the guilt from the secret you've kept for weeks now eats at you.

You started visiting Negan a couple weeks after he got locked up in Alexandria. The first time you did it was to curse him out.. Tell him how you wish he were dead and how your friends didn't deserve what he did to them.

The second time you visited was out of pure boredom. Carol and Daryl had gone on a run without you, and you snuck in to see him out of curiosity.

The third time was because you found that he intrigued you. The conversations you had with Negan had become like no other conversations you'd ever had. You felt like he was the only person who understood you.

Monthly visits to his cell became weekly visits. And weekly visits turned into daily visits. You'd bring him books to keep him company, sneak him snacks, and eventually, one thing led to another.

And now he's your secret boyfriend. You've been sneaking around with him for weeks now, like teenagers scared to get caught by their parents. And while it's thrilling, your feelings for Negan have grown into something much bigger that you ever expected.

"Daryl.. there's something I need to get off my chest."

If there's anyone who hates Negan, it's Daryl. But he's also the one person you trust the most, and he's going to find out eventually. So you decide it might as well come from you.

"Hm?" Daryl grunts, scuffing his feet in the gravel as he walks.

"Promise it won't make anything... different between us?"

He slows down, looking at you suspiciously. "Nah, ain't promisin' nothin'. But now ya gotta tell me."

You sigh, hoping you're not about to make a terrible decision.

"There's... someone I have feelings for..."

His brows scrunch together as he glances at you. When he doesn't answer, you hesitantly continue.

"I... I think I might even love him."

Daryl looks at you again, a softer look in his eyes this time as you continue on rambling.

"I haven't told anyone else. I don't want anyone getting upset with me... Or... judging me."

"Who is it?" Daryl quickly cuts you off as the Alexandrian gates open for the two of you.

"It's.. um.." You sigh as Negan's name stops on the tip of your tongue.

"Y/n.. hey, there you are. We need to talk." Negan is already on the other side of gate as you enter. Daryl stops beside you, refusing to leave your side as he glares at Negan.

"Uh, yeah.. let's go talk over there." You say, widening your eyes at Negan, confused that he's talking to you like this in front of Daryl. You've both done a decent job of keeping your interactions with each other private, so this is out of the ordinary.

"No..." Negan cuts you off. "I'm done hiding. I'm gonna talk and you're gonna listen."

"Negan.." You warn him, noticing the death glare that Daryl is giving him.

"I love you, y/n."

Your mouth drops open slightly at his confession. You want to say it back, because... you do love him. But something stops you.

Negan brings his hand up to rest against your cheek. "That's okay, baby. You don't have to say it back right now. I've waited for you for this long, I've got all the time in the world.. I just.. I needed you to know."

He takes you in his arms, hugging you tightly and resting his chin on top of your head.

"You can't be fuckin' serious." Daryl finally interrupts. "Him?" He asks, looking at you with hurt in his eyes.

You nod, the side of your head pressing into Negan's chest as your arms wrap around his waist. "Daryl... I was gonna tell you sooner. I-"

"Doesn't matter." Daryl grunts, spitting at the ground in front of him. "Whadaya want me to say, y/n? Congrats?" Daryl glares at Negan before angrily walking off.

You glance around, noticing others watching the scene before them. "Negan.. we need to take this somewhere else."

"Okay.. yeah, I know." He drops his head. "I just - I'm so tired of hiding from everyone. I want them to know you're my girl. I fuckin' love you, y/n. More than anything... Why is that so wrong? Why should I have to hide that?"

You search his eyes as a single tear falls from yours. You know you shouldn't want him. You know all of the awful things he's done, but you've grown to know him on such a deeper level over the past few months and you can't help but feel so strongly for him.

If being with him means the rest of the world is against you, then so be it.

You wrap your arms around him and slam your lips to his, kissing him desperately. You're too caught up in the moment to notice the shock on everyone's face around you. You deepen this kiss, savoring the taste of him as your tongues mingle together.

"Negan.. I need you." You say in between breaths as he lifts you up into his arms by your thighs and your legs wrap around his waist.

You can't take your lips off of him as he leads you into your house nearby, not paying attention to the hateful glares around you.

Negan kicks your front door open with you still in his arms and you slam it shut as he presses your back into the living room wall. His lips travel from your lips to your neck as he presses his erection into you. You whine, frustrated at the material separating both of you.

"Negan.. please, I need you.. now."

He carefully lets you down as both of you tear away at each other's clothes until you're naked and he's left in just his black boxers.

He picks you back up, leading you to the couch and sitting down with you straddling his lap. You pull away from his lips long enough to look into his hazel eyes, letting your hands cup his face before running your fingers through his graying hair.

You can't deny that you're head over heels in love with this man, as wrong as it may be. He's changed so much since he was leader of the Saviors, mentally and physically. He's a perfect example that people can change, and you hope that the others and Daryl can finally see that one day too.

"You're so fuckin' beautiful, baby." His cock springs free from the hole in his boxers as he takes your hard nipple into his mouth, sucking lightly.

You hover over him, lining his tip up with your entrance. You slide down slowly, inch by inch until he fills you completely and you feel the tip of him pressing against your cervix. You moan out at the satisfying pain as his fingers dig into your hips.

"That's it, sweetheart. God you feel so fuckin' good." He praises you.

You wrap your arms around his neck to support yourself as you bounce up and down on him and he groans out, looking up at you through his lust-filled eyes. You press your forehead and nose against his own as you continue riding him slow and hard, making sure he hits as deep as possible each time you come down on him.

"I love you too, Negan. So much."

"Yeah? Fuck. Say it again." He says, his breathing unsteady.

"I love you Negan... I'm in love with you."

"Fuck, baby. I'm so fuckin' crazy about you."

You crash your lips to his again as a tear falls from your cheek.

"Baby, don't cry. It's okay, we're gonna figure this out. Fuck everyone else." He wipes your tear away with his thumb as you continue grinding on him softly.

You nod. "I know.. I just.. want them to accept you."

Negan gets up suddenly, laying you down on your back before positioning himself between your legs.

"Only one I need acceptance from is you, darlin'." He says before sliding inside you in one quick motion. He fucks you fast and deep, interchangeably moaning filthy sounds in your ear and sucking at your neck.

After moments of thrusting, he pulls back, settling on his knees as he lifts your leg, placing it on his shoulder. From this new angle, he hits your g-spot perfectly over and over.

"Negan.." You breathe heavily. "I'm -"

"I know baby. Just fuckin' let go."

You come apart at the sound of his words, moaning out his name as your juices rush out of you. Negan looks down between the two of you, watching you soak his cock.

"Goddamn baby, look at that." His voice is low and raspy when he leans over you again. "So fuckin' wet." The sound of his voice right in your ear sends a chill through your body.

"Want you to cum in me.." You breathe out.

"Yeah? You sure, baby?"

You've never let him before, but now that your relationship is public and you've both confessed your feelings to each other, you crave him on a deeper level.

You nod desperately and he kisses you hard, spilling deep inside of you as his hips stop abruptly. He groans into your mouth as his dick pulses over and over and you feel his warm liquid paint your walls.

After a few minutes of snuggling and kissing, he finally pulls out of you and the two of you get dressed.

"Did you mean it?" He asks, pulling his pants up.

"Mean what? That I love you?"

He looks to you, waiting for your answer as you pull your shirt over your head.

Your eyebrows scrunch. "Of course I meant it. Why would I say it if I didn't mean it?"

He shrugs. "Dunno. You coulda been caught up in the moment."

You laugh, walking over to him and sliding your hands around his waist, pulling him in for a long hug. You look up at him to find him grinning down at you.

"Nope... Still love you." You reassure him.

He nods towards the door. "You ready to tell the world that?"

"Fuck this world. It doesn't care about us. Why should we care about it?"

Negan chuckles, kissing your forehead.

Your face grows serious at the thought of Daryl's reaction earlier. "Actually.. I need to find Daryl. Make things right.. He seemed really upset."

Negan nods disappointedly, dropping his head.

"Oh, stop. Don't be like that... You know his opinion is important to me."

"He'll never give us his blessing if that's what you're after, y/n."

"I don't need his blessing, Negan. I just don't want him to hate me. He's been there with me since the beginning. If we want a future together, I need to make things right."

Negan's brows come together as he lets go of you. "If we want a future together? ... So, if he's not okay with us being together, that's it? You're just gonna kick me to the fuckin' curb?"

"Negan.. I didn't say that."

"... but you did." He says.

"Negan, please just.. I didn't mean it like that." You say frustrated, reaching for him again. Your heart drops when he pulls away.

He nods, sliding his hands into his pockets as he waits for your explanation.

"I care about him, too. What he thinks.. matters to me. That doesn't mean I'm going to let it dictate our future. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have worded it that way."

"Okay." He whispers, but the hurt is still clear in his voice.

"Stay here, okay? I want you to sleep here tonight. I'll talk to them.. get them to agree to it. Just give me some time and.. don't leave the house, okay?"

Negan nods as you reach to hold his hands, standing on your tip toes to kiss him. "I love you Negan. This is going to work, I promise."

Part 2 here

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cas-writes-stuff-ig · 13 days

Text

Part 3 of Cheering Her Up (A Float)

f!/nb! reader x regina george

CONTENT:

Word Count: 3203

The morning after the party

You and Regina go spend time in the pool together (you brought a duck float)

Regina shoves you in the pool

a little bit of suggestive flirting

some comphet/internalized homophobia/weird mixed signals type stuff

you're bonding with Kylie (Regina's little sister)

very mild angst/one-sided pining (at least you feel like its one-sided)

Part 1 of Cheering Her Up

Part 2 of Cheering Her Up

Part 4 of Cheering Her Up (coming soon maybeeeee??)

a/n:

sorry i've been missing in action for like 2 months, life's been sucky. Also I tried writing some smut for the end of this chapter but I decided to move it to the next chapter. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it (I'm not necessarily happy with this chapter I just was bullshitting around a little)

OH ALSO i'm like about halfway done with that wine drunk fic with Leighton do expect that soon :]

——————————————————————————————

In the morning, since you were slightly hungover, you didn’t wanna cook and Mrs. George went out for some errands, so you and Regina went out to get breakfast. You gulped down two cups of coffee to help with your head, then asked her to drop by your house to get your school bag. “Gina I’m gonna take a bit, I’ve gotta find something. I’ll drive back to yours soon” You got out of the car.

“Okay, bye loser, I’ll see you there,” She said and then drove off.

You walked inside and you had to explain to your dad you were fine and you just needed to grab some stuff to do homework with Regina. He was indifferent about what you did or didn’t do, he just cared that you weren’t arrested.

——————————————————————————————

"Your family gonna be out long?" You asked after about forty minutes of mutual silence on your phones. It was Saturday and you both finished the little homework you had over an hour ago, and you had this itch to take a dip in her pool again.

"Probably, why?" She asked

"I bought a pool float, just say it's for your sister. I'll leave it here" you said sheepishly.

She was unimpressed with your excuse "Mmhm, you know she can't swim well"

"Precisely why I got one, now she can enjoy the pool" You argued back

"Fine, let me get changed. I'll meet you down there" Regina got up and walked into her closet. "You've asked to swim in my pool so many times. At this rate, you should just join the fucking swim team" She said sarcastically, and you walked toward the hallway.

"Whatever, your pool is just nice to hang out in" You left her room and jogged down the stairs to your car.

Regina walked down the stairs after changing, holding two towels and water bottles, she saw you sitting on the ground in a sleeveless t-shirt and your boxer shorts, blowing up a fucking duck floatie. "Hey G" you were out of breath "I forgot my swim trunks"

She tsked at you “You brought a float, but not your swimsuit?" She left the glass door open.

"Uhhhh, yeah. I know I know it was dumb" She walked past you, flicked your forehead, earning an “ow” from you, and went to sit on the lounge chair. When you filled the entire float with air, you plugged the hole and held it above your head. "Success!" You put it in the water next to the edge of the pool.

It was a pretty big floaty, it could easily fit two people on it. You carefully climbed onto the float "Regina, get in on this" You put your hands behind your head and relaxed, closing your eyes.

"You look stupid." She said glancing up from her phone, she was taking a secret photo of you. Part of her wanted to replace your contact photo with this one, but she didn’t.

You opened your eyes and scolded her "Hey, you could've said no to the pool, just get on here. Don't let my hard work go to waste" She started playing music. Wordlessly she got up from her chair and sat on the float with you. "Wow, I didn't think you'd actually listen to me"

"I'm taking pity on you actually," She said conceitedly, you just flipped her off and closed your eyes again. So you both just laid there, basking in the last few weeks of warmth before the cold came in full force.

——————————————————————————————

The float had drifted from the edge to the middle of the pool. You had about twenty minutes of peace before you felt Regina's hands under your back and she shoved you off the float when you were least expecting it. A short cry of surprise was quickly muted by your head falling under the water.

You resurfaced and quickly grasped one of the flimsy plastic handles along the edge of the float while she was calming down from laughter "That was uncalled for!" you said "You find too much pleasure in my demise, Regina"

She faked her remorse "I would never do such a thing" she tilted her head to the side.

"Then can you help me back on?" you asked.

She grinned mischievously and crossed her legs. "No" she waved her hand like she was dismissing you "Swim along little duck"

"Fine then" You started to claw your way back up on the float, bending one of the edges and letting Regina sink in the water a little bit.

"Hey, what are you doing?!" Regina exclaimed as half her body was underwater due to your uncoordinated efforts. You finally got back on the float, you were on your stomach, and your head turned toward Regina. She was slightly irritated, and you just grinned at her. “You’re so annoying,” She said to you.

“You coulda helped me back up, you know? And if I’m so annoying, why do you still let me hang around?” your voice was playful. You decided to push the flirting a little more “You sure you’re just hanging around because you pity me? Is it for homework?” You shifted to lay on your side, head resting in the palm of your hand. “Or do you have a crush on me?” Your tone was joking but you were serious in your head.

Whenever you insinuated that your relationship was a little romantic, she would become testy.

Your words pushed on Regina’s nerves, but she didn’t let it show on her face too much. She rolled her eyes. “Dream on nerd, I could care less about dating anyone right now. I’m not really gay.” She hated when you’d say things like that because she felt turmoil in her chest about the relationship you had with her, she didn’t want to think about what it meant.

You knew her words were bullshit, the things she did with you spoke louder than words, but it still stung to hear her say that. You hid your disappointment and just said “Uhuh, whatever floats your boat Gina” She’s been like this throughout the entire situationship. Contradicting herself, going between acting like you were the only one in the world who knew her, or like what you had was nothing.

This wasn’t good for your poor heart, but you were a fool, a dumb, lovesick fool, and you couldn’t help it. You knew she cared a little though, so you clung to the moments she had let you in, where you held each other like nothing else mattered.

She deflected the topic of romance quickly, “Go check my phone, my mom and Kylie might be back soon”

“But it's all the way over there, and I just got back on” You whined but you got off anyway, since she had a point. You grabbed one of the handles on the float and tugged Regina with you to the edge of the pool.

Regina snickered at how quickly you complied “You’re so easy, baby” You tried to ignore her, but she continued. “So obedient” Her voice was suggestive and teasing, your face reddened and you felt her words go straight between your thighs. You glanced over your shoulder trying to glare, but it looked more like a pout.

You reached the edge, stepped up and out of the pool, and walked toward the lounge chairs, drying your hand off with a towel to not get her phone wet. You looked back at Regina, “She said she’s gonna be home in about forty minutes, and it was sent like 26 minutes ago”

“Mm, okay,” She sounded mildly annoyed since you only had the pool to yourselves for less than an hour. Regina wanted to thoroughly enjoy the last few minutes of solitude with you. She got off the float “Come here”

You walked towards her, stepping into the water again. Regina had a hand on your shoulder, and right when you grabbed her waist about to pull her in closer for a kiss, you heard Regina’s mom say loudly “Hey guys!” as she opened the front door. You both instantly moved away from each other and got out. Mrs. George was holding some grocery bags and Kylie followed behind.

You and Regina already dried yourself off quickly, you hung the towel over your shoulder and walked inside. “Hey Kylie” Regina greeted, and Kylie gave a curt “Hey” back and then walked up to you.

“Hi, Mrs. George. Hey little George” You smiled and then crouched down so you were closer to eye level with Kylie. You stuck your fist out and Kylie fist-bumped you.

“Hi, Y/N” She liked it when you and Regina were around. Kylie went on about her day to you. Regina was a little further away, and you made eye contact, Regina pointed at her sister and you, then mouthed ‘Traitors.’ You had to hold in your laugh and divert your attention back to her little sister. “Oh! And we’re going on a field trip to the aquarium in two weeks”

Before you could answer, Regina’s mom called you all over to the kitchen. “Kylie have your lunch” She placed a plate on the table and Kylie sat down. “You guys hungry?”

Regina looked at you, meaning it was up to you “No, I’m okay. Thank you” you said.

“Okay” her mom always sounded enthusiastic “Why don’t you invite Gretchen, Karen, and the new girl Cady to hang out with you guys in the pool?”

“Uh-” Shit, you blanked on excuses

Regina cut in quickly “Gretchen and Y/N aren’t really on good terms mom, I’d rather not get into it” Which wasn’t true, Gretchen was in one of your classes and you were good acquaintances, which is why you and Regina had to be extra careful around her. Her special talent for getting people’s information was really incredible.

“Oh, okay honey” She moved on obliviously “I’m going to run a couple more errands, do you mind watching Kylie, Regina?”

Regina took a quick glance at her sister who beamed at the idea of hanging out with both of you. “Sure, Mom” She wouldn’t show it much, but she really did care for her little sister.

“Great! I’ll be back around seven or eight tonight” Ms. George leaned closer to you “You both are welcome to drink whatever alcohol I bought, it’s in the fridge” She picked up her purse and left quickly. “Bye girls!”

——————————————————————————————

Regina had taken out the margarita mix from the fridge and took out two glasses. Kylie finished her lunch and then grabbed a juice box from the fridge, “Hey little George, wanna hang out in the pool for a little?”

“Sure!” She grinned and gulped down her juice box, leaving it on the table, then dashing up to her room to change.

Regina cleared her throat to get your attention, then held up the two glasses with ice, insinuating for you to drink with her.

“Again?” You rolled your eyes, she poured you a glass and handed it to you. You took it anyway. “Fuck it, it’s Saturday” You downed it quickly and placed it down on the counter, Regina smirked and poured you another without asking if you wanted more. “You’re gonna be the reason my liver gives out in my thirties, Regina”

She began to walk away, bringing the glasses with her “You could say no, and I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to sip it, not chug it” She stepped back out to the backyard, and then Kylie returned in her swimsuit.

“I’m ready let's go!” She skipped through the house and to the pool, and you followed behind. Regina had already settled on her lounge chair, drinking her glass. You sipped yours too, already feeling the burning down in your stomach. You heard Kylie gasp audibly at the sight of the float, then she whipped her head around to look at the both of you.

“I got you a duck float”

“Because you don’t know how to swim” Regina added under her breath, but Kylie heard her.

She defended herself “I know how to swim! It’s just hard.” You placed your drink down next to Regina and walked over to dip yourself in the shallow end, Kylie followed suit, and while the water only reached about a third of you, it went up over half of Kylie.

“Take it easy, you just ate okay?” You were trying to be mindful, and you pulled the float for her to grab “You can hold onto the float while you swim too, but your mom should really sign you up for lessons”

——————————————————————————————

Twenty minutes went by and you were trying to teach Kylie to swim more effectively, but you weren’t particularly great at it either, so you opted to teach her how to tread water. You were in slightly deeper water now so she could practice, but shallow enough that your feet still touched the floor of the pool. After a bit, you successfully taught her how to not drown. “Hey good job little George” She reached for the float handle to take a break.

“You want to get on the float now?” You asked.

“Yeah,” she said and you held the float for her as she clambered onto it, she sat cross-legged, then you let go to float on your back, still holding the float to not drift away. “Y/N,” Kylie whispered a little, “How come you’re not dating anyone?” You were taken aback a little bit and shifted to stand in the water.

“Uh,” you thought for a second, also whispering back despite being a good ways away from Regina “I don’t know, but I’ve been in relationships before. Why you being nosey, George?” You kept your tone light.

“No reason, I like to know things. Do you like anyone then?” She pried.

Her intrigue about your life was cute, so you entertained her curious antics a little “Mmhm, do you?”

She started to pry more “No, boys are stupid. What’s their name?”

You snickered at how similar Kylie was to Regina “You sound like your sister, Kye. Also, it doesn’t matter, you don’t know them anyway” you lied.

Kylie pouted “I won’t tell anyone, not even Regina”

“Okay, their name ends with an ‘A’” You whispered teasing her a little.

Both of your voices started to rise in volume, “That's not fair, there are so many names that end with ‘A’, give me something else to work with.”

“Nope, sorry Little George” She crossed her arms and frowned at you, “Oh come on, I bought you a float, you can’t be mad at me.”

Before either of you could continue your argument Regina cut in “Why are you upset Kylie?” She now sat at the edge of the pool with her legs in the water.

“They won’t tell me who the-”

You covered Kylie’s mouth quickly with your hand and into her ear “Don’t say anything to Gina, I’ll tell you later, I promise” You took your hand away from her mouth and held out your pinky “Please.” You didn’t want Regina to push you away, so you lied to yourself and tried to convince yourself that you could keep this casual. You both convinced yourselves this was casual.

“Fine” Kylie took your pinky, and you connected the tip of your thumb to hers locking the promise.

“Kylie, finish your sentence,” Regina said. Kylie glanced at her and then back at you, you held a finger up to your mouth, and Kylie zipped her mouth closed with her hand and pretended to throw an imaginary key away. Regina looked irritated, but if she found out you liked someone, she would force the answer out of you.

She was about to ask you, but then you copied Kylie’s gesture by zipping your mouth closed. “We’re sworn to secrecy”

She just rolled her eyes at you. “You’re such a child”

“Hey!” Kylie acted offended

You defended Kylie “That’s ageist Gina”

——————————————————————————————

Eventually, you went back inside it was about 5:30 now. “I’m showering first,” Regina announced “Use the guest bathroom to shower,” She told you.

“Okayy” You gave her a thumbs-up, she had filled your glass twice just 10 minutes ago, and you weren’t usually outwardly drunk, but your demeanor was more bubbly. Regina walked up the stairs and left you and Kylie alone.

“Hey you owe me” Kylie got your attention.

Shit, you should’ve just told Kylie you didn’t like anyone, or that you were still getting over your ex. “Kye, really?” You lay down on the floor, that last drink was hitting you, not enough to be visibly drunk, but enough for you to have a blabbermouth.

“Yeah,” Kylie sat down on the floor next to you. You heard the shower upstairs turn on.

“It’s a girl” You sort of liked playing these games still, it was mildly entertaining for you.

“Okay”

“Starts with an R”

“So my sister?”

“Don’t tell her little George. You get no more details” You whispered. You should not have been telling a little kid this, especially her sister. But you were tipsy and with no one else to confide in, you told her anyway. “If you tell her I’ll take that float back” You kidded.

She held out her pinky to you “I won’t tell, pinky swear” You locked your pinky promise again with her. “I kind of like this one guy in my class”

“I knew it, you little liar.” You sat up and ruffled her wet hair “So Kye has a crush huh?” She gave you more details about her crush. It was pretty adorable. Kylie detailed her crush being put in the same group for the upcoming aquarium field trip. Eventually she asked you more details about your crush on Regina.

“Why don’t you tell her you like her? You guys are always together.” Kylie asked you.

You hesitated when answering her question “Highschool social hierarchy is hard to explain, but being gay isn’t exactly great for your social status, plus I’m not exactly popular. And your sister–no one actually knows we’re friends aside from you and your mom.”

“But you guys are close friends, as close to Regina as Gretchen and Karen. And I think you are more fun to hang around than Aaron”

You smiled at her “I know, little George, you’re so sweet, but it’s hard to explain why I can’t tell her.” You couldn’t outright tell Kylie her sister was essentially very homophobic outside of the house. “Things between us are weird and complicated, but I don’t think she will ever like me like that, thats all”

Kylie frowned at that, you placed a hand on her shoulder “Don’t look so down. Trust me little George, it’s better she doesn’t know”

You both heard the shower shut off. Regina was in her robe and she peeked down the stairs seeing you and Kylie were still sitting at the bottom of the stairs talking. “Hey, what are you doing? Get washed up already”

You stood up, “That’s our cue,” you offered your hand to Kylie and helped her up “Go shower before the beast gets mad at us” Kylie let out a little laugh.

(lowk i kinda hate this may or may not delete/archive this)

#mean girls #regina george #regina george x reader #mean girls 2024 #x reader #fluff #renee rapp x reader #regina george x y/n #regina george x you #regina has comphet and it's confusing you #she sends so many mixed signals #also you're bonding with her little sister which is absolutely adorable

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snowy-vee · 2 months

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BBM BABY (2)

n/a: Normally I do check the chapters a little bit, but today I didn't :/ STILL enjoy the chapter. TYSM for the notes, love you all <3333 THIS IS NEXT DAY, NOT THE CONTINUATION OF THE CAR SCENE

INDEX

No, you wasn’t in one of your binge episodes, but you were certain that the cashier was thinking that as he kept scanning all the candies, chocolates and ice creams.

“I have a big sleepover” You said laughing awkwardly. He did the same nodding, when he said the final price, your wallet almost cried as you took out some dollars “Bye!”

You left the store opening the pack of red licorice and eating one of them while you walked on one of the alleys between houses and stores, nobody should see your final destination, aka Ellie’s garage. People were to nosey around here, you knew that they would tell your mom how much you bought but you had a perfect cover for that.

“Hi, Joel” you waved watching him on his porch, sat in one chair with a beer on his hand.

“The kid’s in the garage” he gave you a nod and then pointed to where your girlfriend was, you nodded already knowing that. “Don’t have too much fun, you two”

“Oh no, sir, we’re just going to hang out casually, Dina and Jesse will join us too”

“No need to lie, just share some of that red candy you got there” you wanted to say something else but it would be stupid, you just gave him a couple of red licorice and murmured a little ‘bye’

Joel did knew something was going on between you but Ellie told him to ‘mind his own business’ so he was just waiting for her to come around and tell him that you two were official. You knocked on her door feeling the embarrassment on your face because of what Joel suggested.

“Coming” you heard Ellie say and some movement before she opened the door, she seemed surprised to see you, maybe because the whole night in the group chat you said how impossible it was for you to hang out the next day, and now you were in front of her and very early “You came!”

She stepped aside, letting you pass inside and close the door behind you. The place was a little bit a disaster but you didn’t mind just going straight to the couch and flopping onto it. “This is for you”

She picked up the plastic bag taking out everything you bought, she seems happy watching her favourite sweets but at the same time she looks at you suspicious, her eyes narrow, trying to read your face to see if there was any trace of guilt. You must have done something to buy her so many things.

“What have you done?” she asks pointing at you with a chocolate bar, you gasped surprised and started laughing which made you look more dubious. “Have I done something?”

Now she was pointing at her face with a confused look, you shook your head, standing up and planting a little kiss on her nose “Aren’t you on your period?”

“Yeah! How do you know that? It just came today”

“Because yours always come three days before mine, I checked my pink calendar”

You fucking knew it, Ellie hormones were high, that’s why she was so horny last week, that’s why she was getting little mood swings and that’s why she was so sensible enough to say ‘I Love You’ to you. Mentally, you were jumping and clapping, you knew that word just slipped in the moment, it was just that… Hormones.

“You are a weird, I kind of like that”

“I am not! You know how synchronized we are ? Soon we will have periods the same day, that would means that we spend to much time together” your hands were on her hair brushing it slowly. Of course you liked Ellie, you liked her so much and being girlfriends was perfectly great, you adored her, you cherished her, you cared for her deeply, you had feelings for her, you had a strong attachment to her… but LOVE? That’s a big word, too big for you two. After she drove you back to your house last night, obviously three blocks away, you had trouble falling asleep, tossing and turning until the thought of maybe she being on her cycle crossed your mind, you felt relieved.

Ellie gave you a little peck, you gave her another an soon you two were making out, she laughed softly in the middle of it making you laugh too. The loud knock on the door makes you both separate knowing that it might be one of your friends.

“Williams, open up! I have the goodies and they are hot!” Jesse’s voice and Dina’s laughter were very quite audible; you could already guess what they were referring to. Ellie quickly hid the sweets and you just sat in a corner of the couch trying to make it look as if you were uncomfortable in there.

Once she opened the door and Dina saw you, she screamed and went to hug you, almost throwing her whole body onto yours, Jesse put the aluminium tray on the table and opened it up revealing some brownies that looked delicious.

“I thought you couldn’t make it today! I was thinking on breaking into your house and kidnapping you” Dina sat besides you, in the middle of the couch, Jesse by her side with an arm on her shoulders and Ellie on a chair.

“Well, my father went on the road again and my mother thinks that I’m with you, by the time she goes to work, she won’t even remember that I’m at home”

“Girls, can you two focus? I brought this amazing dessert with a special green ingredient, we have to try it” Jesse handed out the brownies, hoping that one of you would take a bite and let him know if it was delicious or not.

“He made them, that’s why he’s so anxious” Dina whispered in your ear, making you giggle a little bit. That made Ellie kind of jealous.

Not jealousy towards Dina, but jealousy that she could talk to you in public or even in this space that your four shared without problem, that she could easily hug you whenever she wanted and no one would say shit but if it was her doing that, not only the whole town would make the biggest gossip chain but your parents could put you on a plane to somewhere and she would never see you again. She did some thinking about long distance relationships but she barely can handle two days without grazing your skin.

That’s why she was the first to take a bite of the chocolate dessert and god bless Jesse’s hands, it was delicious. “Dude, you will bake my birthday cake”

“That would be an honor” They both cheered clashing brownies and giving another try to them. Dina and you try them, they were sweet but not too much, you loved the texture and you wanted to try more even when Dina warned you too slow down and that two were enough but If she wanted you to only eat two, why bring a full tray?

You had zero idea if they kicked in, you were just chilling with SZA in the background, your head in the armrest of the couch and your eyes closed. You could hear them chatting and sometimes you said something but you were much quieter than anything, the movement of your leg to the rhythm of the music is what gave away that you hadn’t fallen asleep yet. The couples voice seemed to vanished slowly and you heard the door open and close.

“Are you okay?” you blinked slowly before opening your eyes fully, Ellie is facing you from the opposite side making you feel dizzy.

“I shouldn’t have ate that many”

“You shouldn’t, but why don’t I lay you down on my bed, take out your shoes and you can rest there better?” she suggested kissing your forehead, for a second you panicked sitting up rapidly. Big mistake, your head was spinning now. “They are not here, they are outside”

“I can’t stay, I have to go home” you said getting up, Ellie grabbed your hand and shook her head, leading you to her bed.

“Trust me, it’s going to be worse if your mom sees you like this, I will wake you up in less than fifteen minutes and you can go” That sounded good for you as you let your head fall into her pillow as you felt how she was taking off your shoes and covering you with the blanket. “I’m going outside for a moment, I’ll be right back.”

“Yeah”

“I love you”

…You were tripping, there was no way she said it again. Hormones? Yeah, maybe, but yesterday was at the start of something sexual, today was so casual, as if it was normal between you two. Your head was heavy, you whole body felt heavier, you just wanted to sleep, so you let it go and let yourself have a nap.

Meanwhile outside Jesse and Dina were talking while smoking a fat blunt “I don’t know how you guys can be smoking after those brownies, Dina, your friend is K.O”

Dina pouted feeling a little guilty that she didn’t stopped you from almost eating half of them by yourself “It’s your fault, Jesse! Since when do you know how to bake?”

“I don’t know, maybe I am gifted” he smiled proudly passing the blunt to Ellie, she passed it to Dina who passed it back to Jesse “More for me, I guess”

They were sat in the little chairs that Joel put for Ellie so she could have an improvised porch, it was not facing the house so he couldn’t see what could be going on and that gave Ellie a much bigger feeling of privacy.

“By the way, Ellie, could you try be friends with her? I mean much better friends, it gets awkward sometimes and you two have thing in common!”

“Like what?” Jesse and Ellie asked in unison “Jinx! Jinx! Jinx!”

Dina rolled her eyes “Please, it would be so cool if we were 100% a group”

“We are a group, we get along, it’s not like a hate her or something”

“Dude, I’ve seen you keeping your distance from her on many occasions. You barely talk much, I don’t think you’ve ever been alone together except for today when she had to leave early and come here.” Jesse added. It was Ellie’s turned to roll her eyes and accept the blunt this time.

She was dying to tell them that you two were together but the sole thought of that leaving her mouth sent an image of you in the airport leaving her alone in this fucking town. “I’ll try”

“Thank you! I can’t wait to see to of my best friends, be best friends too”

taglist;; @bready101 @lavenderhazelsworld

#ellie williams #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams smut #the last of us #tlou game #ellie tlou #tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie smut #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie fanfic #lgbtq #wlw #snowy vee #ellie fluff #fluff

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flowerandblood · 10 months

Text

The Impossible Choice (10)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: oral sex, angst, smut, fluff, sexual tension ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm's End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

She knew that he was furious with her. She saw this in the look on his face as soon as he joined her in bidding farewell to her family. He stood next to her, not even giving her a single glance, standing straight, his hands clasped behind his back.

He didn't say a word to her.

Her heart ached at the sight, but she couldn't say that she hadn't expected it. Part of her knew that his closed, cruel nature would be furious after such an event.

She decided not to impose herself on him.

She tried her best to smile and not to cry as her father and brother came to say goodbye to her, hugging her and kissing her forehead. She didn't return Royce's gesture, allowing herself only to touch his arm, not wanting to frustrate her husband even more.

All her sisters said goodbye to her more or less coldly, but when Floris came to her and embraced her with her trembling hands she did not return the hug.

She didn't even give her single look, recognizing that after what she had done she was no longer her sister but some stranger that she didn't want to know anymore.

As soon as their carriages were on their way, her husband turned his head and left, leaving her alone. She sighed, knowing that she had to wait out the storm that raged inside him.

She had no other choice.

She knew that imposing on him would only make matters worse and she would lose her self-respect as well.

She wanted his approval, but not at any cost.

Instead of him, she decided to focus her strength and attention on her relationship with his sister, whom she involuntarily liked very much and considered her only ally worthy of any trust.

The other ladies-in-waiting were also trying to win her favor, but she knew that they simply wanted to profit from her marriage by strengthening their position at court. She decided that she wasn't going to make it easy for them, and she certainly wasn't going to expose herself before them either.

They asked her curiously what her husband was like in private when he was left alone in his chamber, is he just as mysterious and dangerous as always.

She replied to them with amusement that they should ask him themselves.

She and Helaena spoke a lot, walking together in the gardens of the Red Keep for long hours. She realized that the princess was as lonely in her marriage to her brother as she was, though her husband, at least as far as she knew, did not drink as much as his brother nor had she heard of him bedding his servants since they were married.

Helaena, however, had to watch and patiently endure the humiliation her husband brought upon her.

She seemed to lock herself in the world of her mind, isolating herself from reality, so as not to go completely insane.

She hardly ever complained, trying to focus on light and pleasant things, so they spoke about art, books, philosophy and history.

Every morning she watched how her husband practiced sword fighting with Ser Criston sitting on the windowsill, wearing only her nightgown, all around her the quiet chirping of birds and the loud clungs of steel.

She acknowledged that her husband was an even better fighter than her brother.

She had never seen Prince Aegon join him but he apparently held his daily routine sacred; she liked the fact that once he made his own rules, he stuck to them, she knew that he never broke a word once, which is why he chose them so carefully.

She got a dangerous idea to join them.

She missed training with her brother and she knew that no one would see them at this early hour anyway, so, excited by the thought, she dressed appropriately and ran to the courtyard.

She was shocked and horrified to find that her husband's reaction to seeing her was more cruel and aggressive than she expected, the cuts of his sword were quick and sure, as if he really wanted to hurt her.

He aroused adrenaline in her, the desire to defend and defy, but she still had to acknowledge his superiority when he threw the sword from her hand.

And then he took her to his temple.

From that moment, when he took her to the pits, from the moment when he wept in her arms, something had changed between them, although they did not speak about these events. She had the feeling that some kind of wall had fallen down between them.

That her husband had decided to grant her at least a little of his trust.

Since then he had decided that he wished her to help him with his bath everyday, instead of his servant.

She tried not to show it, but was delighted to do so.

Every afternoon after his training with Ser Criston, before the Small Council and the supper, his servants would fill the tub full of water in his chamber at her command.

She knew that he preferred it hot, almost burning him.

She selected the oils herself, which she then poured into the water, knowing that the gentle scent of herbs and lavender relaxed him.

When he returned to his chamber, everything was ready.

He then undressed unhurriedly, looking at her, and at first she turned her gaze away from his bare body, but then several times during the night he hissed to her what he thought of it while fucking her from behind, and she stopped doing it.

She had learned to derive satisfaction from watching his beautiful, naked, muscular flesh, his manhood always throbbing and hard at the sight of her.

He craved her relentlessly.

She was well aware that he didn't like to converse during this quiet, relaxing act and it didn't bother her.

She was able to enjoy this silence.

He would then step into the water, laying down in the bath, tilting his head back with a quiet murmur of contentment. He rested it against the edge of the tub, closing his eye, feeling that the temperature of the water was just the way he liked it.

She would then approach him meekly, stepping over him from behind. She always began with untying the black ribbon from his hair, loosening his braided strands. Then she would take a small jug, prepared by herself earlier, and fill it with water. Next she took gently his chin in her soft hand and tilt his head back, so as not to pour water into his eye while she would wash his hair.

She rubbed them with the oils that she herself used, to make his hair stronger and softer; he never complained about the end result, so she did it as she saw fit. Then she sat on a small barstool next to the tub, taking a soft cloth in her hand, dipping it in the water and gently rubbing his body with it − his face, his neck, his shoulders, his chest.

She noticed that she herself was comforted by this quiet closeness, by the fact that he was no longer allowing any servant to participate in this intimate act involving his naked body.

She knew that he was showing her in this way that although frigid in familiarity, he was being loyal to her.

She watched as his body, sore and tense, slowly relaxed, surrendering completely to her tender, soft treatments. Sometimes she had the impression that he even fell into short, blissful naps, after which he would open his eye lazily, letting out a quiet murmur of satisfaction from his throat.

By the time she had finished the water was usually no longer so hot and then, following his wishes, she would join him. As soon as her naked body was in front of him, his arm drew her close, pressing her back against his chest, his nose nestled against her cheek.

Her tender treatments made his cock swell with arousal, his hand slipped between her thighs with his hum of contentment.

"− you smell wonderful, sweet wife −" He murmured, not wanting to interrupt their calm, intimate, unforced closeness, running his fingers over her hot, puffy womanhood, teasing her bud with slow, light strokes. She closed her eyes then, tilting her head with a quiet sigh.

He loved this sight, loved it when her body spilled into his arms, completely surrendered to him. His other hand then reached up to her soft breast, playing with her nipple, pulling and rubbing it with thumb, drawing a quiet, sweet moan of pleasure from her throat. He brushed her neck and shoulders with his full lips then, caressing and massaging her like this until she came, all hot, writhing before him in pleasure, begging him not to stop.

Then he grabbed her in his arms with a loud splash of water, lifting her with him, turning her to face him, walking with her towards his bed. He would settle her on it and stand in front of her, stroking her chin.

He always wanted the same thing.

The first time she helped him with his bath, he explained to her what he desired.

"− I want you to take it into your mouth −" He said, stroking her cheek with his thumb, looking down at her, and she blushed, embarrassed and frightened.

She wondered if this was what her sister had wanted to do to him when she came to him that unfortunate night.

"Would that make you feel good?" She mumbled uncertainly, glancing at him with her large eyes. She saw his gaze darken, his jaw tighten as he swallowed loudly.

"Yes." He whispered.

She thought that she wanted to make him content.

She wanted him to sought such pleasure with her than with his servant.

He was her husband and she had long since learned that their intimacy was solely their own affair.

That's why she sat down comfortably, kneeling before him on the bed, waiting expectantly at his instructions, saw how he involuntarily licked his lips, delighted by the sight and her obedience.

"− take it in your hand and lick it −" He commanded, looking at her with misty eye, his lips parted slightly in accelerated, excited breath.

She trembled at his instructions, embarrassed by his words and what he desired, looking at his swollen, throbbing manhood and took it gently in her long fingers.

She heard him almost moan as she touched him, a strong shudder ran through his body.

He wanted to say something, but his voice trapped in his throat as she leaned over him, her tongue running tentatively over his entire length, from the root to the very tip.

She felt him slide his hand quickly into her hair, letting out a loud breath of air, delighted, his hips involuntarily coming out to meet her.

"− gods − yes − just like that −" He gasped out as if in a trance.

She liked the sounds he made, how involuntarily vulnerable he was in the act.

His skin tasted of freshness and soap, so she was not repelled; encouraged by this discovery, she repeated the caress, pressing her her tongue a little harder against his length and he tilted his head, tightening his fingers in her hair in impatience.

"− put it into your mouth − as deep − fuck − as deep, as you can −" He muttered, looking at her pleadingly, on the verge of something that she couldn't describe.

She could see that the whole act was giving him indescribable pleasure.

She looked at him surprised and swallowed quietly, frightened, feeling her heart pounding like a crazy in her chest.

She figured that since he had never hurt her so far, she would trust him and try to comply with his request.

She directed the fat head of his cock, already leaking from his own moisture against her mouth and slid it slowly between her lips. She heard a loud, low sound of pleasure break from his throat, his hips thrusting it deeper, all the way down her throat, causing her to gag, her hand to still hold what she couldn't fit inside her.

"− just like that − now be a good girl, and suck −" He exhaled, beginning to pant loudly as she complied with his command, her lips clamped around his manhood.

His hips began to move slowly inside her mouth, sliding it in and out with lewd click of her saliva, holding her head in his hands, not letting her escape. She felt tears come to her eyes from the exertion, the place between her thighs pulsing hard because of his panting and moans.

"− if you want me to − fuck − to slow down − hit me on the arm −" He mumbled out, losing his temper, the sight before him made him drift off, his click disappearing and reappearing in her mouth at an increasingly rapid pace, she felt him throbbing hard between her lips, each time hitting the back of her throat, making her struggle to hold back her vomit reflex.

"− gods − looking so innocent with my cock inside her mouth − " He gasped out, speeding up, making her squeal softly, clasping her hands on his hips, she breathed loudly through her nose to keep from suffocating.

"− just a little more, 'm close − gods − s-swallow as much as you − fuck! −" He groaned low and she sobbed, almost choking as she felt his hot release flowing down her throat, warm, sticky and a little salty.

She swallowed some of it with difficulty, the rest spilling out the corners of her mouth, running down her cheeks.

He slid his manhood out of her mouth with a sticky plop and lifted her chin, panting loudly with her, surprised by the sensation.

She had never seen him like this before, fulfilled, delighted, completely disarmed.

He rubbed the remnants of his spend from her mouth with his thumb, breathing heavily.

"Did I caused you pain?" He asked uncertainly, and she shook her head, not yet fully understanding what she had just done.

He surprised her when he drew her head to him, pressing it against his hard abdomen; she put her arms around his waist, not expecting such a gesture, this kind of closeness. He stroked her hair with gentle, slow movements of his large hand, his body still pulsing restlessly, she could feel his heart pounding har.

"So good to me." He hummed, combing his fingers through her hair, looking down at her. She closed her eyes, enjoying the moment, the fact that she finally felt that her presence was not indifferent to him.

Afterwards, she helped him get dressed for the Small Council meeting; she combed his long, white hair, tying it partially back with a black ribbon.

She knew that he enjoyed it.

With sure, quick movements she fastened the buckles of his leather tunic, focused on her task, dressed only in her nightgown, and he watched her without saying a word.

He always kissed her goodbye.

It was one long, warm, moist, drawn-out kiss.

He always summoned her to his chamber for the night. At some point he began to grow impatient with the fact that he had to repeat himself every day and send his servants to bring her to him, so he ordered her to wait for him in his bed every evening.

She tried not to show an expression of delight at his words.

He fucked her almost every day, eagerly filling her with his spend, letting her rest on certain days when he knew that her insides were sore from their constant approaches.

She was aware that if he could, he would do it with her all the time.

Their intimacy awakened a femininity in her that she had not known in herself before; she changed and matured in a way, understanding better what she wanted and desired.

He surprised her one night when he returned to his chamber late in the night. Usually he would not wake at that hour, allowing her to sleep, but this time that did not happen.

Instead of taking her from behind, however, as was his usual custom, he turned her onto her back and spread her thighs in front of his face.

She squealed and tried to push him away when he leaned down between her thighs, his lips running tentatively over her soft womanhood, enveloping it with his hot breath. Her hands clenched in his hair, something came out of her throat, probably a question of what he wanted to do, until she finally moaned, surprised, as he sank his mouth into her fleshy folds, nuzzling her bud with his nose.

It all became clear to her when, after a moment, emboldened by her reactions, he began to slide the tip of his tongue into her slit, merely teasing her, she threw her head back, feeling that she was hot, her walls clenching greedily around nothing in pleasure each time he rubbed against the wonderful spot inside her.

"− does my wife still wish to sleep? −" He hummed, licking her more and more boldly, sliding deeper and deeper into her with the slick click of her moisture. She clenched her hands on her pillow, her body writhing beneath him from the soft, revolting sensation.

"− no − please, husband − do not stop −" She mumbled and he chuckled low, delighted with her state.

"− greedy little thing − so fucking wet just from licking her −" He gasped, sliding his tongue into her rough, fleshy interior again, she tilted her head back, surprised by the intensity of the sensation, a loud, helpless whine erupting from her chest.

The tip of his tongue massaged her wonderful spot with the wet, perverted click of her juices, she involuntarily clasped her fingers in his hair, wanting to feel him deeper, her hips responding to his every movement with desperate rocking.

"− please − please − please −" She moaned sweetly, writhing in front of him, feeling her fulfilment approaching, her nipples completely hard and swollen, her puffy lips parted in delight.

She leaned back and drew in deeply, her eyebrows arching almost in pain as she sobbed loudly, her orgasm surging through her like a hot, tickling wave, making her body tremble, depriving her of sight and hearing for a moment.

She mewled loudly, trying to push him away as he licked devotedly everything that leaked out of her, her walls overstimulated and sore from fulfillment.

"− I read about it in one of my books, sweet wife −" He hummed, the tip of his tongue teasing her opening once in a while, making her whine softly, delicate and sensitive. "− did it feel good? −"

"− yes, husband − gods, it felt so good −" She mumbled, barely able to see with her eyes, her mind clouded from the pleasure that she had just experienced. She heard his satisfied purr as he rose, untying his breeches.

"Perfect. Now it's my turn."

Although they didn't speak to each other much, she felt that he had somehow allowed her to get a little closer to him. She knew that he didn't want questions, so she didn't dare ask him about his eye, his childhood, his relationship with his siblings or even his thoughts.

The thought that he craved her presence was enough for her.

She reasoned that they didn't need to rush.

What was quickly coming to her ears, however, were rumours; especially the ones that Lucerys Velaryon's rights to inherit Driftmark had been challenged by his uncle, Vaemond Velaryon.

The tension could be felt throughout the keep.

She saw that her husband spoke even less than usual, his gaze dull impatient during his baths, his jaw clenched in anger and something that she could not comprehend.

He led to even more frequent close-ups between them, fucking her as if he were insane, apparently trying to relieve the tension that was building up inside him, seeking relief and comfort inside her.

She noticed, however, that he couldn't sleep, sitting by the fireplace until the late hours, gazing into the flames, tense. When she came to him he would let her ride him, clasping his hands on her bare buttocks, cuddling against her breasts, but he would not reveal to her what he was thinking about, what lurked in his heart.

One morning, as Lyanna combed her hair in her chamber, she learned from her that the heir to the throne, her husband and their children would come to King's Landing to face Vaemond Velaryon in the presence of the King.

The King had been only lying down for a long time and she knew that his condition was getting worse.

It was rumoured that he had been given poppy milk to relieve his pain, but also to rule on his behalf.

Although her husband pretended that his father's state did not move him, she knew that it was not true.

That he must have feared what would happen if his half-sister claimed the throne.

"Our prince is surely displeased that his nephew will arrive here." Said Lyanna, tangling a few of her strands into a small braids, which she then tied together in a bun. She looked at her surprised.

"Why?" She asked, not understanding what in his person could upset her husband.

She remembered his nephews from their wedding and while she didn't really see them speaking to each other, she didn't think there might be any conflict between them. Lyanna looked at her with wide eyes, as if it was completely obvious.

"Prince Lucerys took your husband's eye."

_____

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ckret2 · 3 months

Text

On chapter 38 of human Bill Cipher is still the Mystery Shack's prisoner, the most exciting, gripping, action-packed, page-turning chapter so far:

Bill gets locked in the bathroom.

He handles it super well.

####

Bill thought he heard a door slam somewhere far off in the shack—but every time he peeked around the shower curtain, there was no sign of anyone else would come into the bathroom any time soon. Good. Last thing he needed was a human coming upstairs to give him trouble for the crime of daring to be naked with a door open. (Of all the stupid things. He wasn't embarrassed, he was used to floating around in nothing but a top hat and bow tie, if he wasn't bothered why should they be bothered, was what he wanted to know...)

As Bill dried off and dressed, he considered what he'd do next. If someone else was back in the house—Dipper, probably—then Bill wouldn't be able to continue his planned mischief. Pity. He'd hardly had a chance to abuse his freedom. But then, Dipper loved to avoid Bill. Maybe Bill could chase him upstairs and have the living room to himself until Mabel got back.

He dressed, pulled the towels off the mirrors, quickly poked his wet hair into something approximating a triangular cloud, and turned toward the door.

Somewhere during the process of getting dressed, he must have bumped into the door, because it had swung halfway shut. Not a problem. He'd found that as long as a door was open at all, it was possible to get through the gap. Even if it was a narrow gap. If you tried to squeeze through it, it somehow widened for you. Such was the illusive trickery of doors.

But. But. Why should he try to squeeze through? His current 3D flesh body was not made for gliding through infinitesimally small gaps. And he wasn't about to let a door be the master of him. He knew how to handle them now. He'd done this in the living room. Time to show off a little.

Bill turned his back on the door, shut his eyes, simply visualized walking straight through an open doorway and out into the hallway, and confidently walked backwards.

The door made a click sound. It stopped moving. Bill froze, back pressed against the wood.

Something went wrong here.

Bill turned around. The door was very firmly closed. He leaned against it experimentally. It remained closed. It sure didn't seem like an illusion he could walk straight through. Had he done it wrong?

After several more failed attempts to walk through the doorway, Bill reluctantly conceded that for some reason this door wasn't about to yield to his mind tricks. He was quite firmly trapped in the bathroom.

Oh, how embarrassing.

No, no—no, it didn't have to be embarrassing. This would be funny. Somebody else would need the bathroom eventually, right? He could just wait here until the humans returned—maybe sit on the toilet, meditate a while—and when someone opened the door, he'd calmly say, "Hey." And after they jumped out of their skin, he'd stroll out the door. They'd never know how he got in there. It would haunt them.

He shut the toilet lid, sat, crossed his legs, shut his eyes, and settled in to wait.

####

He lasted three minutes.

Bill groaned and dragged his hands down his face. "Ugh, it's been hours. Where the heck is everyone!" He stood and angrily pounded on the door. "Okay, I'm sick of this! My lifespan's too finite to waste it in here!"

Who was here? Probably just Dipper, right? Somewhere downstairs? "HEY!" He stomped on the floorboards. "I'M TALKING TO YOU, UH—uhh, uhhhh—MABEL'S BROTHER?! Name?!" What was his name. He and Mabel had those cute matchy twin names—same length and same first two letters— "MARIO? MATTY? MAGNI? MABON? Isn't it Mabon? That sounds right, I'm sure it's Mabon." He stomped on the floor again. "It's really petty of you to ignore me until I get your name right, Mabon! No, wait, he went by a nickname, what was his nickname." Bill paced back and forth across the bathroom floor. "It was a constellation, right? ORION? No. TRIANGULUM? No, I'd remember if it was Triangulum. What's his sign—VIRGO? C'mon, kid!"

Bill glowered at the door. It showed no signs of opening any time in the near future. Where was that brat?

####

Dipper's lungs were heaving and his heart pounding as he pedaled toward the spot where Bill had cracked open the dimensional rift and started Weirdmageddon.

It was easy to find. He just had to locate the fault line that had opened in the ground and follow it until the view of the trees around him began bending oddly in the air, as though being refracted in water—the air was so thick with invisibly-sealed miniature dimensional rifts. He kept going until he found the sign they'd planted last summer:

Mabel's Fault

He still cringed every time he thought of the name they'd given the scar in the earth. He'd proposed it before realizing how it sounded; but Mabel had laughed hysterically and the name stuck.

He didn't see any sign of them around the fault. "MABEL! Can you hear me?! Bill, where are you!" There was no reply. Dipper screamed his frustration at the top of his lungs.

He was a terrible brother. He'd been one then and he was one today. He never should have left Mabel alone with Bill.

Where else could they have gone? Maybe Bill's corpse? Dipper abandoned his bike and ran off the trail, deeper into the woods. "I'm coming, Mabel!"

####

Bill frowned contemplatively at the mirror, finger tapping his chin.

He had painted his zodiac on the glass with tooth paste.

He pointed around the mirror one symbol at a time. "Okay, that one's Jesús," he said, "that's Wendy, that's Stanley—Pine Tree!" Bill smacked the sink triumphantly. "YOUR NAME'S PINE TREE! Stop ignoring me, where are you!"

There was no answer.

"Maybe he went out again," Bill muttered.

Mabel had to be back soon, right? Bill pressed his face to the bathroom window. He could see Stan's car and Waddles below; no Mabel.

"HEY SHOOTING STAR! Are you back yet?!" Bill listened for a reply. "Star girl? Mabel? Buddy? Pal? My hero? My only friend? Please?"

####

Mabel was biking back from the hardware store, her bike's basket stuffed full of spray paint cans. She'd brought along the flashlight with the height-altering crystal so she could shrink down the bags of spray paint cans to fit in the basket. It was a good choice. There had been a sale. She had sooo many colors now.

She passed the grocery store; weird, the parking lot had filled up with a crowd since the last time she passed by. Did she hear music?

She slowed to stare at the crowd—then hit the breaks. "Candy?! Grenda?!"

Across the parking lot, they turned and waved. "Mabel!"

Mabel pedaled up to them. "Hey guys! What are you doing hanging out in a parking lot!"

"Radio station live appearance," Candy said, pointing toward a red van parked next to the grocery store. A vinyl wrap around the van identified it as affiliated with Falls Radio. In front of it, Bodacious T was struggling to set up a tent over a white folding table. Candy went on, "We are here to win cheap prizes at the games. They have trivia, 'name that tune,' a prize wheel..."

Grenda pumped a fist in the air. "I'm gonna win a water bottle and a tiny backpack!"

"Oooh." Mabel craned her neck, trying to peek between the crowd to the front table. "What are the prizes?"

Candy said, "Radio station t-shirts, CDs, gift cards..."

"The grand prize is concert tickets for some old guy," Grenda said dismissively.

"The gift cards are a better value," Candy said.

"What old guy?" Mabel caught sight of a poster taped up to the side of the van. She gasped. "Phrancisco?! From Invisible Yellow Plastic?!"

"You know him?" Candy asked, surprised.

"Yes?! Invisible Yellow Plastic was this amazing 80's band! They were pioneers in the local new wave scene! I've got some of their albums!" Courtesy of Grunkle Ford, who had hyped them up to her in the first place and also told her everything she knew about them. "And based on the album covers, Phrancisco was so hot thirty years ago?"

Candy and Grenda absorbed this new information with thoughtful looks.

Mabel climbed off her bike, stuck the tiny bags of spray paint in one pocket, and used the height-altering flashlight to shrink her bike and stick it in the other pocket. "Ladies. We have got to get these tickets. I'm dropping everything for this quest." She put her hands on Candy and Grenda's shoulders. "With our powers put together, we can win all the gift cards, tiny backpacks, water bottles, and concert tickets we could ever want. Are you with me?!"

Candy and Grenda raised their fists. "Yeah!"

"It's time for radio station live appearance mini games."

####

Bill sat leaning against the bathroom cabinet, idly flipping the toilet lid up and down to entertain himself, staring at the door.

"I'm sure Mabel will be back any minute," he told himself.

####

Bill had constructed a sensory deprivation tank in the bathtub.

He'd filled the tub with about a foot of hot water, dumped in an entire bag of bath salts he'd found by prying a wooden board out of the side of the cabinet, plugged his ears with cotton balls held in place with bandaids, turned out the lights, and draped a towel over the tub.

He was going to meditate in that, and use the boost to his psychic capabilities to send a telepathic SOS to Mabel. Mabel or whoever was sensitive enough to receive it. He wasn't picky.

His nerves were too frazzled for him to drop straight into a trance. He tried to calm himself. Deep breath—wow, the bath salts reeked of lavender—deep breath through the mouth then. Calm down. Be still. Empty mind. Everything would be fine—everything would always be fine for him—there was no need to stress.

Slowly, he relaxed.

Bill's sleep schedule had been in a state of utter disarray since the moment he'd been dumped in a body that needed sleep. Over the past day, the sum total of sleep he'd gotten had been an unplanned nap last night before dinner, and a fretful nightmare-laden spell from 3 a.m. to dawn.

Bill fell asleep in the tub.

His head sank below the water. He spluttered and flailed his way back to sitting upright.

He took the towel off his head and threw it to the ground. "That didn't work." Kinda comfortable though. He lay back in the tub. What else could he try?

Maybe Wendy would come back. She said she liked hanging out here when she was avoiding people, and it sounded like she wasn't too keen on her friends—maybe she'd get sick of them and return? Yeah. Yeah! Sure, Bill was sure she'd do that. "Wendyyy! Hey! You didn't happen to come back, did you?!" He waited. "Come on! I know you're here!"

####

"No wait, this'll be sick," Nate said. He was laying down on the walkway around the top of the water tower, wriggling out under the safety railing so his face and shoulders hung out in open air.

Wendy laughed. "Dude. What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna spray paint something on the bottom of the floor. Everyone'll go, 'How did that get there?'" He waved a hand at Lee. "Gimme a spray can."

Lee handed Nate a can of purple paint, and he slid out a little bit farther. His belly button was level with the edge of the walkway.

Wendy stopped laughing. "Whoa," she said. "Careful. What are you, crazy?" She put one hand on the railing.

"Yeah. Crazy genius. It's cool, look." Nate slid out another couple of inches. "I can just—lift my legs and hang from the railing by my knees, like a monkey—" He lifted his feet off the walkway, and immediately lost balance and slid forward. "Hey—"

Time seemed to slow down. Wendy had trained for this, the water tower's wooden legs were basically thin tree trunks, if she slid under the railing she could grab Nate and swing into one of the tower legs, they could slide down that to the bottom—

Lee dropped flat on Nate's legs, using his weight to pin him in place. "HEY!"

Wendy grabbed Nate's shirt. Together, she and Lee dragged him back onto the walkway. Nate rolled onto his back and stared at the sky, eyes wide.

Lee sat beside him and laughed nervously. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Whoo. Gimme a sec."

"What the heck, Nate!" Wendy was gripping the railing hard enough her arms shook. She tried to sound calm. "You almost got yourself killed, you dummy!" Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest.

"I'm fine," Nate said shakily. "I'm fine, just... lay off."

"Fine. Sor-ry. I'm just trying to make sure you don't literally die."

Lee gave Wendy an exasperated look. Nate closed his eyes and sighed. "Yeah, okay, mom."

The back of her neck went hot. Oh no, absolutely not. The mom friend was the opposite of the cool girl. That was the boring friend who drove everyone around and was too busy worrying to have fun. She'd never been mom-friended in her life.

"Hey, are you okay?" Lee asked Wendy. "I mean—this idiot's near death experience aside—" (Nate punched Lee's knee.) "—you've been kinda high-strung lately. Is everything cool?"

"Of course I'm cool," Wendy said automatically. Be cool, girl. "Sorry. Work junk's got me stressed. Soos keeps randomly closing at the last minute, and I'm losing hours, and... it's been getting to me, I guess. I just need to chill." She took in a deep breath. "Nate," she put a hand on his shoulder and said solemnly, "if you want to fall on your head and lose your last eight brain cells, I won't get in your way. I support your dreams, man."

"Pssh, shut up!" Nate shoved Wendy off and sat up, laughing. "Okay, new plan. What if I just—stay on the floor, but reach my arm under the side to paint it."

Lee asked, "How are you gonna see what you're drawing?"

Nate considered that. "You can reach under and use your phone like a mirror."

Wendy bit back the urge to tell them they were idiots. Were her friends not maturing fast enough, or was she just getting boring?

She leaned against the water tower and shut her eyes.

####

Laying on the bathroom floor, Bill said, "You know what, Cool Girl? I'm beginning to think you're ignoring me too." Everyone was here and everyone was ignoring him.

He heaved himself to his feet. How long had he been in here. Time lost all meaning in a sensory deprivation tank. It could have been days. He was beginning to get hungry. What would he do when his body needed food? Not to mention dehydration! Where was he going to get water in a bathroom?!

Bill did not, at that moment, possess the greatest clarity of mind.

He flinched in surprise at the sight of another human in the bathroom, and then his hopes went up—and then they went back down. Oh. Right. He'd taken the towels off the mirrors. Just him.

"Thanks for disappointing me," he snapped sarcastically at the human body in the reflection. "Again. As usual." He pointed at the reflection. "Hey—hey! What's that look on your face for? Don't you take that attitude with me, buster! It's your fault I'm in this mess!"

His reflection continued to glare wrathfully at him. It made him madder. The reflection's wrath deepened.

"WHAT?!" Bill demanded. "You keep your mouth shut, I'm the one shouting here! What do you have to be angry about?! I've never done anything to you! You owe me everything! I feed you, I clothe you, I wash you, and what do you give me in return?! Backaches and headaches! I could have been home partying with my friends by now, but do you know who's holding me back?! YOU!" He jabbed his finger against the mirror. The reflection jabbed a finger back. Voice cracking with rage, Bill squawked, "Don't you raise your hand at me, you little—!" He curled his hand in a fist, intending only to threaten the reflection; but when it shook a fist back at him, he reared back with a roar and punched the mirror. The glass crunched beneath his knuckles. His knuckles also crunched.

Bill stared at the broken glass, snapped out of his rage by the pain. Dozens of fragmented reflections stared back at him. He rubbed the stinging cuts on his knuckles.

"Of course," he said. "The solution's so obvious! Blood sacrifice!"

####

As Dipper passed the water tower, he spied an incomprehensible purple squiggle spray painted to the bottom of the walkway. How did that get there? Had Bill and Mabel been here? Maybe Mabel had done it with one of her spray cans to send a signal? Or maybe Bill had used his magic to float up and spray some magical alien rune from below.

He climbed up to look.

Nothing. No signs they'd been here, either. Dipper pulled out a town map he'd marked up with the locations Bill was most likely to hit, and peered toward them one by one from his vantage point; but he didn't see Bill or Mabel, nor any evidence of Bill's influence terrorizing the town. He was out of leads.

He climbed back down. He'd bike back to the shack, call Soos, maybe call the police, look for clues around the shack, chug some Mabel Juice for energy—desperate times—and join the hunt again...

As the Mystery Shack emerged from behind the trees, he saw, from another direction, Mabel biking up. His heart leaped into his throat.

Mabel waved. "Hey, Dipper!" She kicked down her kickstand and dismounted. "Did you find the wigglers?"

"Mabel!" Dipper almost tripped in his haste to get off his bike and pull her into a tight hug.

"Dipper? What is it?" Mabel awkwardly hugged him back. She whispered, "Why do you smell so bad."

"Are you okay?!" He held her out at arm's length, looking her up and down. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"Wh—? No, I'm great! I might've kinda exploded a couple of tiny spray paint cans in my pocket, though." She pulled up her sweater, showing the purple and orange stains on one side of her skirt. "Buuut—" She held out four slips of colorful card stock. "Guess who won awesome concert tickets!"

"What about Bill," Dipper demanded, "did Bill kidnap you?"

"What? No." Mabel shook her head, bewildered. "I locked him in the shack while I went out for more spray paint."

"Well, he's not there now! I searched everywhere!" Dipper gasped, "Then—he must have escaped while you were out."

"What?! But—how—"

"I don't know, but I searched the whole shack a couple of hours ago—"

"A couple of hours?!"

"—and there's no sign of him—"

"Then he could be anywhere by now!" Mabel squeezed her hands together, crushing her tickets. "Oh, this is bad. It's all my fault if he causes trouble! We've gotta find him before Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford get home!"

"But where?" Dipper asked. "I've already looked everywhere he might go! The basement, the fault, his corpse, town hall, that street with all the katanas in the gutter for some reason..."

"You're thinking like Bill the evil overlord, I can think like Bill the party animal! We've talked about all kinds of fun places he'd go if he was free!" She got back on her bike. "Come on, I'll tell you on the way to town, we can split up to search!"

Dipper got on his bike to follow, but said, "Come on, do you really think he'd waste time doing something fun now that he's free to be evil again?"

"Fun and evil are the same thing to him! Dipper, I can guarantee you, if Bill summons his terrible friends back to town, the first place he's taking them is the Putt Hutt," she said. "Because he wants to force the townspeople to run through giant minigolf obstacles, and also teach the Lilliputtians to do war crimes."

"Okay, I believe you," Dipper said. "Lead the way."

####

As Mabel and Dipper biked away from the shack, Bill cried, "Wait wait, no! Come back!" He pounded both fists on the bathroom window and let out a prolonged, anguished, "NOOO!"

They didn't hear him.

Waddles did, though. He pulled his face out of the dirt and looked up at Bill, muddy snout twitching.

"Waddles," Bill gasped, relieved. "Good pig. Smart pig. You know, I'm—I'm really very impressed by your scientific work. Especially that jet pack, wow. Seriously. Just between you and me, I don't think Fordsy's quite the biggest genius in the house, you know what I mean?"

Waddles blinked.

"Listen. I need a little favor. Go get help." He pointed toward town. "Go get Mabel and tell her I'm— Or, or just free me yourself! Can you do that? Come on up here?" Could pigs open doors? Bill couldn't think of any reason why not. It wasn't like Waddles was cursed.

Waddles tilted his head slightly, contemplatively. He didn't look persuaded.

"It'll just take you a second," Bill pled. "And then I'll owe you one! Big time! Listen, if you help me, you'll go down in history! You think that stupid hog with the fancy spiderwebs was special? He's nothing! I'll rearrange the constellations to form your face! It'll say 'Greatest Pig In The Universe!' How's that?!"

Waddles stared at Bill.

"Have we got a deal?"

Waddles snorted, his nose twitching upward.

"More?! What more could you want! An infinite feeding trough! A hundred sows! A Nobel prize! The most luxurious mud puddle in the world, what?! Just—tell me what you want!"

Waddles lay down and shut his eyes.

"You're a lazy bum, Waddles!" Bill smacked his hand on the window. "You hear me?! You could've had a brilliant academic future in any field from bioengineering to quantum technology, and you squandered it all to mooch off a twelve-year-old! All potential but no work ethic! You're pathetic! You're nothing!"

Completely unashamed and satisfied with his life choices, Waddles fell asleep.

Bill groaned in frustration. "I'll never get out of here!" He kicked over a box, kicked a shampoo bottle, kicked one of the many ancient cursed sigils he'd inscribed on the walls in his own blood, and kicked a towel. "They've abandoned me in this shack. They're never coming back. They're gonna burn it down with me inside. Those brats just came by to taunt me! Mabel's probably been in on it all along! They all have. After all I've done for them! Those ungrateful—"

Bill stomped across the bathroom and hammered on the door. "Was this your idea, Stanford Pines?! I know it was you! You've had it out for me ever since we finished the portal and you decided you didn't need me anymore! It was your big plan to trap me in here! You're just waiting to see if the hunger or the boredom gets to me faster, aren't you?! Gonna record that in your journal, huh? A cute little experiment to see whether my body or my mind gives out first?" He gave the door another violent pound. "You're an evil, sadistic freak, Stanford! And not even the fun kind! I know you're laughing at me right now! I know that's what you're doing!"

####

Ford kept his gaze fixed firmly on the Dontium generator as he blindly groped across the card table for the deck. "Where's—?"

"Here, I've gotcha." Fiddleford pushed a playing card into his hand.

"Thanks." Ford groped around the table until he found the three cards that had already been placed down, flipped the new one over, and carefully set it next to the others. "What's this one?"

"Four of clubs."

"Remind me why I'm responsible for dealing the community cards when I can't look at them and you can?"

"Because it's real distractin'," Fiddleford said, "Which is just what you need to keep you from thinkin' about the... oh."

Oh. The Dontium.

Sitting at the generator's controls, Soos said, "Aw, dudes. Needle's back down at zero."

Ford shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly let it out.

Sitting on a folding chair faced away from the Dontium generator, Stan groaned. "Seriously?! Again?"

Fiddleford said, "Sorry, sorry."

"Start from the top," Ford said tiredly. "Stan, you just focus on your part and I'll focus on mine. Or... not focus on mine, as the case may be."

Stan groaned again, but said, "Fine!" and crossed his arms irritably.

"Right," Ford said. "Where were we? Remind me what the current community cards are?"

"King of hearts, seven of hearts, two of diamonds, and four of clubs."

"Hmm." It wasn't an inspiring bunch of community cards. No chance for a straight, no chance for a flush, slim odds for four of a kind. He tried to mentally calculate the probability of a win. "And..." Ford waved the two cards he was holding. "What's my hand?"

"I'd tell ya, but last I checked, peekin' at yer opponent's poker cards is still considered cheating."

"Right," Ford sighed. That was going to make calculations harder.

"I could look," Stan said. "I'm allowed to look anywhere except the one place I'm not, right? If I tell you your cards—"

"You can't," Fiddleford said irritably, "because then you'll think about poker when you're s'posed to be thinkin' about—er..."

Soos laughed awkwardly. "Aw, dudes. You'll never guess what."

"Darn it!" Stan got to his feet and pointed at Ford. "You started thinking about the thing again!"

"You stopped thinking about the thing again!"

"How am I supposed to think about the thing when there's a game of Texas hold 'em five feet away?!"

"I knew we should have switched to a game Stan doesn't like." Ford looked at Fiddleford—it didn't matter, they weren't making any progress. "What if we try...?"

Firmly, Fiddleford said, "Stanford, I'll do many things for science. But you ain't getting me to play that diabolical hocus-pocusy wizard game."

Ford groaned. "We're going to be here all night."

Soos slowly raised a hand. "I have an idea," he said. "What if you both put on headphones. And Stan's plays a recording that just says 'think about the NowUSeeItNowUDontium generator' over and over. And Ford's plays—uh—I don't know, an audiobook with cool science facts or something?"

They considered that. Ford slowly nodded. Stan shrugged. "Eh, can't hurt."

####

Were shirts edible?

Nothing in this accursed bathroom qualified as human food. But if Bill could eke out just a few calories, maybe he could survive until the humans came by to pry the gold fillings from his starved corpse and turn the tables on them. Shirts were plants. They might accidentally contain a mineral or two. Right? Maybe? Bill knew a great many things about Earth, but he had never once needed to learn whether cotton yielded any nutritional benefit to human beings.

It was probably better for him than trying to chew up the wooden counter. He peeled off his shirt, steeled himself for the least appetizing meal of his life, and began distastefully chewing on the hem.

Several minutes in, it suddenly occurred to him to check the shirt's tag for nutrition info. He peered in the collar.

65% polyester, 35% cotton.

Well. He wasn't wasting his time on a shirt that was two-thirds plastic. He'd burn more energy chewing than he'd gain.

He pulled his shirt back on and lay on the bathroom floor. He could already feel his famished body metabolizing his own muscles for fuel.

If he returned to his true form when he died, the first thing he was doing was heating every ounce of polyester on the planet to five hundred degrees and melting it onto the skin of the humans stupid enough to wear it.

####

"Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid..." Mabel was muttering to herself in sync with pedaling the bike. She'd spent most of the ride along the road back to the shack alternating between this chant and berating herself in more detail: "I'm so stupid, augh! Why is it always me? Why am I always the one who lets Bill get out? Because I'm an idiot!"

"Whoa, hey. Don't say that," Dipper said. Granted, he did think leaving Bill home with no guards was kinda stupid, but Mabel was already punishing herself far in excess of what Dipper thought she deserved. And he'd left Bill home with one guard, so was he much better? "It's not all your fault—"

"Yes it is! I'm the one who decided to trust him at home alone! I'm the only one who's been trusting him at all! I knew he'd try something like this eventually!" Mabel tilted her head back and let out a long noise of frustration at the sky.

Dipper opened his mouth to try to offer more reassurance; but then he paused. "Wait. If you knew he'd do this, then why did you trust him?"

"Because...!" Mabel fell silent for a moment. "Because, I know he's a bad person... but I really, really do think he can get better." She had that little waver in her voice that she got whenever she was trying not to cry. "I'm figuring out how he thinks, I'm teaching him manners, I'm getting him to lie less... But, he can't prove he's getting better if he isn't given room to do the wrong thing, so he can choose the right thing instead. If he can't choose, then he's not good, he's just controlled. So I've... gotta give him chances."

Dipper stared at her, momentarily lost for words. "And—you're willing to risk the safety of the whole town—?"

"I mean I didn't think he'd escape entirely!" Her front tire wobbled; she slammed on the breaks. Dipper skidded to a stop just a few feet ahead.

Voice thicker, Mabel said, "I just—with Grunkle Ford so close to figuring out how to kill him, I really... really wanted him to prove he can be better."

All this time, watching her playing and goofing around with Bill, Dipper had assumed she was just ignoring how dangerous he was. But if anything, she was thinking about it more than anybody else. All the rest of the family had to worry about was Bill finding some way to destroy the world; while Mabel was worrying about Bill destroying the world, and Bill not making enough progress on some nebulous road to being "better," and whether he could prove himself to everyone else before it was too late.

Dipper didn't think Bill could do anything to prove himself. He thought Bill deserved to die. But that just made Mabel's position even worse.

"Oh, Mabel," Dipper murmured. "I'm sorry. I... didn't realize how much pressure you're under." All this time, Dipper had been seeing this as a battle where Bill won if he escaped to restart Weirdmageddon and the Pines won if they killed Bill. But for Mabel, she'd lose either way.

No wonder she'd learned so much about him, so fast. No wonder she was spending so much time around him. She didn't have any time to waste. And to think Dipper had been jealous of her bizarre new expertise. He didn't want to be doing what she was doing.

"S'fine. It's stupid." Mabel rubbed her nose on her arm, eyes downcast. "I'm the dumb-dumb who tried to be friends with an evil space criminal."

"You're not a dumb-dumb," Dipper said. "You're like, one dumb maximum."

Mabel snorted and laughed weakly. "Seriously, Dipper."

"You just want to help. Maybe too much."

She shrugged. "I guess." She rubbed her face again, then got back on her bike. "C'mon, it's almost dark. We should go."

"Yeah." Every second they wasted was one more second Bill could spend putting some devastating plot together.

They were headed back to the shack, but only long enough to regroup. They had already split the cereal bars and jerky that Dipper kept in his backpack for excursions, but they needed to get some proper food before they continued the hunt. And—as much as they dreaded it—they'd conceded they couldn't fix this themselves, and they had to call the adults to tell them they'd let Bill escape.

As they biked, Dipper said, "Hey. What did you mean, you're 'getting him to lie less'? Bill tells like four lies a minute."

"Oh. Right," Mabel said. "I guess I don't exactly see it as lying anymore because I understand what he really means."

"What, is he talking in some kind of code?"

"Sorta? I'm not sure if this is only a Bill thing, or if it's how people talked back on his planet? But he just doesn't have conversations like a human. When he says something, he doesn't really care about if it's true. He's telling you what he thinks should be true. So it's not like he's actually trying to lie, he's just... trying to use words to make a better reality." Mabel shrugged. "You've just gotta negotiate with him on the details of the new reality so you both like it."

Dipper blinked in bewilderment. "Mabel, that's objectively insane."

"It works, though!" Her proud smile wilted. "I thought it did, anyway."

Once they found Bill and had finally figured out how to kill him, Dipper would kill him twice for breaking Mabel's heart.

####

"Where haven't we looked for him yet?" Mabel asked, packing fresh provisions in Dipper's backpack. Waddles, who had come in with them and could tell something was wrong, had sat down reassuringly in the exact center of the kitchen.

"I didn't explore much of the forest." There was a lot of forest. "He's probably out there with a pair of scissors cutting open the dimensional rifts we glued shut last summer."

"Or taking over the radio station to broadcast a mind-control signal."

"Or breaking into the buried UFO to summon an alien invasion."

"Do you think we need to check the UFO?" Mabel asked. "I've never gotten to see it."

"Probably. If I was an evil triangle trying to restart an apocalypse, that's where I'd go." Either that, or hitch the first ride out of town—but that wasn't an option for Bill. Their one blessing was that they knew Bill still had to be nearby. He couldn't be farther than the weirdness barrier. "We'll need the magnet gun." Dipper headed for the stairs.

"And my grappling hook!" Mabel called. "Can you grab it for me?"

"You got it!"

As Dipper jogged past the bathroom, something rattled the door so thunderously that Dipper jumped sideways like a startled deer. The door howled, "Let me out, you monster! I'll kill you! I'll atomize you! I'll turn your intestines into a Klein bottle! I'll anti your matter—!"

Dipper stared. He opened the door. The bathroom belched forth a cloud of artificial lavender fragrance.

Behind it stood Bill Cipher, both hands on the doorframe, arms shaking, chest heaving, face contorted in rage. The moment the door was open, the rage melted away into a look of profound relief and his knees buckled under him.

Dipper said, "What."

"You saved me!" He placed one hand reverently on the floor boards outside the bathroom. "You're my hero. I knew you wouldn't abandon—" He blinked, squinting up at Dipper's face. "Oh. It's just you. Eh."

Dipper said, "What."

"I was trapped!" His hair was disheveled; his hands were covered in scrapes and cuts; and his shirt's hem was shredded and tattered. There was a wild look in his dark-ringed eyes. He looked like a man who'd been crawling through the desert for a week, who'd then crawled into an active minefield. "I couldn't get out! I tried everything!"

Dipper gazed past Bill. The bathroom walls were coated in mysterious sigils drawn in toothpaste, makeup, and blood. One mirror was shattered, and the other had a smeared drawing of Bill's zodiac. There was a pile of wet cotton balls and used bandaids on the floor.He'd started writing his will on the shower curtain. He'd written an invocation to something called ⅃TO⅃OXA on the ceiling.

"I thought I was gonna die in here." Bill crawled across the hall, leaned back against the opposite wall, and closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. "I had to eat shampoo to survive." He hiccuped up several soap bubbles.

Dipper stared at Bill, stared into the bathroom again, and stared at Bill. "How long have you been in here?"

Dragging his hands down his face, Bill declared, "All afternoon! And evening!"

"You resorted to drinking shampoo in one afternoon?"

"I was hungry! Do you know how much fuel human bodies need?! It's insane!"

And that was the moment Dipper realized that all along, Mabel had been half right: Bill probably wasn't becoming "better"; but even so, they no longer had anything to fear from Bill Cipher. He wasn't haunting their dreams, he wasn't opening rifts. This, this was all he could bring to the table. He was so harmless it was pathetic.

Dipper would never be afraid of him again.

"Welp," Dipper said. "Enjoy your freedom, man. Bye." He turned to leave.

A hand closed on the back of his neck. Bill snarled in his ear, "Ohhh, no. You're not going anywhere. We're going down to the kitchen, and you're opening the fridge for me."

Wow, right, Bill couldn't even open the fridge by himself. Wow. Wow. That was so sad.

They had to slow down at the stairs; Bill was stumbling down them with the weariness of a soldier who'd survived a week in the trenches. As they went, Bill said, "Hey. What's your first name?"

"Wha—?" Somewhat offended, he said, "It's Dipper."

"No. I know that, obviously. Why wouldn't I know that?" (He sounded defensive.) "I meant your—your baby name. Birth certificate."

"Why do you need to know?" Was this like a fae thing? Was telling Bill his real name dangerous?

"It's been driving me insane all day." With the eyes of a desperate man grasping at the last fraying threads of his sanity, Bill said, "Is it Mabon? I could swear it's Mabon. Tell me it's Mabon."

"What? No, that's stupid. Mabon isn't even a real name."

"Yes it is, it's Welsh."

"It's Mason."

"HA!" Bill screamed triumphantly in Dipper's face, "MASON!" He was way too loud and looked way too ecstatic.

Dipper opened his mouth, then decided he didn't want to know and shut it.

Mabel was in the living room on her phone. "Hey, Soos? Could you put Grunkle Ford on a second?" She paused, then took a shaky breath and said, "Grunkle Ford? Hey. I've... got some bad news... We, uh..."

"Psst," Dipper hissed from the doorway, "Mabel!" He pointed at Bill. Bill pointed at himself.

Mabel's eyes widened. "We... ate all the leftovers! Haha, yeah, sorry, thought you should know! Anyway, love you, bye!" She lowered the phone. Dipper faintly heard Ford say, "What leftovers?" before Mabel ended the call. "Bill! You came back!"

"He never left the shack," Dipper said.

"You didn't?!" Mabel bounded across the room and flung her arms around him. It nearly knocked him over. "I knew you wouldn't let me down."

"Yeah, of course not. You can count on me, kid." Bill glanced sideways at Dipper, brows raised questioningly. What?

Flatly, Dipper said, "He got locked in the bathroom."

"What?!" Mabel stepped back, looked Bill up and down, and said, "You look awful! What happened?"

"I was trapped," Bill said wretchedly. "I thought I was a goner." Dipper rolled his eyes.

"Oh my gosh, you poor thing!" Mabel hugged him again. "Tell me all about it."

"In the kitchen."

"Of course! You must be starving."

"I am," Bill said, hand on his heart, the most pitiful thing you ever did see. "That was the worst afternoon of my existence. You know—being stuck in a human body makes waiting for anything absolute torture. An energy being can wait indefinitely, but a flesh being can feel the passage of time via its own cycle of slowly decaying flesh. The flesh knows it's got less than a century til its expiration date. Compared to the length of my entire life, one afternoon to a human is proportionate to, like..." There was a pause as Bill did some mental math, "over nine million years of my life? So I was basically in there for nine million years!"

"That's awful! I'm so sorry, if I'd had any idea..."

Bill was enjoying this performance, Dipper was sure of it. If he were any hammier he'd be a pork chop.

Still—and Dipper never thought he'd be grateful for this—at least Bill was here.

He followed Mabel and Bill into the kitchen to get some proper dinner.

####

Dipper pulled a tray of dinosaur chicken nuggets out of the oven. "Okay, dinner's ready. You guys want any condiments? Ketchup? Barbecue sauce?" He looked at Bill. "Shampoo?" Mabel snorted.

The absolute picture of dignity, Bill said, "Shampoo's really more of a dressing than a condiment." Once he'd raided the cabinet for snacks, Bill had gotten bored with the woe-is-me act and was now acting like he was above any petty jabs about his bathroom adventure. "I'll take maple syrup."

Mabel looked at Bill like he'd just invented a brand new number. "I'll take maple syrup, too."

Dipper split the nuggets on three plates—they weren't quite divisible by three, so he gave Bill the plate with one fewer.

"By the way," Bill said conversationally. "How was dumpster diving?"

"Shut up." Dipper took one more nugget from Bill's plate.

Once they were all seated around the table, Bill said, "So! Let's talk alibis."

Dipper frowned. Mabel said, "Alibis for what?"

"I might have been safe at home all day, but you two didn't know that, because you both decided to leave the big scary triangle here alone. I mean, anything could have happened. What if I'd burned the house down?" Bill feigned a grimace. "I don't think you want the grunkles to know you left, do you?"

Mabel winced. Dipper said, "So, what—are you blackmailing us?"

"Nooo. I'm saying we need to get our stories straight in case they ask. After all, I'd hate for you kids to get in trouble."

"I think you're just embarrassed they might find out what you were doing all day."

Loftily, Bill said, "I don't see why I should be embarrassed by your negligence."

After half an hour of rigorous debate, they agreed that, if anybody asked, they'd never left the house and had spent all afternoon battling a ghost werewolf. It was the one thing they could think of that made them all feel sufficiently cool, but was mundane enough it wouldn't call for any follow-up questions.

They collectively decided they didn't know anything about the state of the bathroom.

####

(I hope y'all found that half as hilarious to read as I found it to write. If you enjoyed I'd love to hear y'all's thoughts! Next week: the complete emotional opposite of this week.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher #(realize belatedly that coloring The Slime green in the second picture kinda made it look like puke)#(that wasn't what I was going for. i was going for Unnatural Colored Substance Of Indeterminate Origin.)#(so I've edited it to be teal now.)

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burntheedges · 2 months

Text

Maintenance Request: Chapter 11

Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday 18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 2.4k

chapter summary: you kissed!! you flirted!! your date is on Friday!! now what? a/n: thank you as always to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta 💕 chapter tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, kissing, holding hands, teasing

Chapter 11

Tuesday, October 22 Ninth week of the semester

When you opened your eyes on Tuesday morning the first thing you thought of was the kiss. You pulled your pillow over your face to hide as you grinned at nothing.

You’d kissed Joel. In public.

And you were going to kiss him again today. Hopefully.

You’d called Beth after work on Monday and told her everything. (She was being very smug about the whole thing. What did I say?? That man is in. to. you.) You’d decided that you should put the breaks on the physical stuff a bit, at least until your date. Beth wasn’t wrong when she said you might jump him in the car, but you were also excited for the date itself. And you agreed with Joel about waiting for a bed. You didn’t want to get too carried away in your office.

But a little kissing never hurt anyone, right?

The rest of your week was going to be busy, but you were hoping you’d manage to see him a few times before your date on Friday. You went over your schedule in your mind as you got ready for the day and even in the back of your mind during your morning class. You hoped you didn’t seem distracted.

Back in your office, you tried to get some work done to take your mind off of lunch and Joel’s imminent arrival. When your phone vibrated you grabbed it so fast you almost knocked your cup of pens off of your desk.

Joel (12:17 PM): Heading your way, gorgeous.

you (12:18 PM): see you soon 💕

You were antsy as you waited for him to arrive — it was almost comical how much you were fidgeting as you flitted around your office.

How much kissing is ok? How much is too much? You twisted your hands together as you waited for Joel.

By the time you heard his knock at your door, you’d moved your lunch from your usual spot to a spot by the chairs in front of your desk, and then back, about four times. You’d also started straightening your books for absolutely no reason and so you were standing awkwardly in a corner when he poked his head in.

He looked good — his green flannel was tight in the shoulders, as usual, but the color was so nice on him.

“Hey there, darlin’.” He smiled widely at you as he entered your office. “What’re you doin’ over there?” He tilted his head, regarding you as you stood in the corner by the shelf. You felt your cheeks heat and sighed.

“Nothing. Just… distracting myself,” you admitted, and his smile turned knowing.

“Distractin’ yourself from what, I wonder?”

You laughed and moved to meet him in the center of your office. “From this, handsome.” You tilted your head and pressed your lips to the corner of his smile. He turned his head to kiss you back. You let yourself sink into it for just a moment, hands coming to rest on Joel’s chest as he set his own on your hips. But you pulled away before it could reach the intensity of the day before.

“Mmm, we should eat lunch.” You murmured your weak protest into his collar.

He sighed and nodded. “That’d be the smart thing, yeah.”

You pulled away and guided Joel into one of the chairs in front of your desk as you sat in the other. Your feet came to rest next to each other as you turned towards him and opened your lunch. He smiled.

“Talked to Sarah last night. She said we should get better at communicating.” You laughed.

“She’s not wrong. Ellie said basically the same thing.” He nodded. You added, “I think we’re doing alright with it now, though.”

As you ate, Joel told you about what had been going on with the building the day before and you discussed, among other things, your plans for your date. Joel knew of a bar downtown near campus that had live music on Fridays, with a rotating cast of local bands and musicians that were apparently all pretty good. You’d never been but you had heard of it. It was around the corner from a lot of places your colleagues tended to frequent on a rare night out.

“The band playin’ on Friday are friends of mine,” Joel added. “They’re always a good time.”

“Sounds great, Joel.” You smiled, and tapped his foot with the toe of your shoe. “Is this dancing music or listening music?”

He shifted in his chair. You watched, rapt, as he actually blushed. “Dancing music, actually. Do you dance, darlin’?” He might have been blushing, but the look in his eyes was not shy in the least. His gaze held your own and you couldn’t look away.

“Um, well, I don’t know — I’ve never done much more than dance on a night out, once in a while.” You felt pinned in place by his attention.

Joel smirked. “Don’t worry, I can show you how it’s done.” You blinked. You were struck by the sudden vision of Joel leading you through a dance and it was almost too much.

“I… yeah, I’d like that.” Your voice sounded breathy and you knew he heard it, too.

He leaned towards you a little, and started, “darlin’, I—”

A knock at the door interrupted you both. You cleared your throat, swimming back up to the present moment from where you’d sunk into Joel’s presence like a well. “Come in!”

One of your students from your morning class poked his head in, and you checked the time — office hours had started five minutes ago, and you hadn’t even realized it.

“I’m sorry, Joel, it’s office hours—”

He waved his hand as if waving away your worry. “I’ll see you later, darlin’.” He gathered his lunch and stepped aside for the student to enter. As you stood to move to the other side of your desk, you caught his eye, and he winked just before he moved out of sight.

…

you (2:07 PM): beth he’s taking me dancing

bestie (2:11 PM): I thought you were going to a concert

you (2:12 PM): it’s a bar with live music and for this band there’s DANCING

bestie (2:13 PM): better hope he dances better than you

you (2:13 PM): 😒 (2:14 PM): apparently he can dance, or so he said (2:14 PM): and he’s going to show me what to do

bestie (2:15 PM): oh he’ll SHOW you alright

you (2:15 PM): 🙄

…

Ellie (3:51 PM): what’s this I hear about you dancing

you (4:42 PM): 🙄 can Beth keep a secret for 2 seconds

Ellie (4:51 PM): yeah but not about this (4:52 PM): can you get me a video of it (4:52 PM): 🥺please

you(4:54 PM): you can’t get me to do it with your sad emoji eyes

Ellie (4:55 PM): pleaaaaaaase 🥺🥺🥺

you (4:56 PM): 😶

Ellie (4:57 PM): i thought you loved me

you (4:57 PM): 😒 (4:58 PM): this is what you get for calling me off putting

Ellie (4:59 PM): check the record your honor i think you’ll find you called yourself that

you (5:00 PM): spoken like someone who isn’t trying very hard to get that video

Ellie (5:00 PM): 🥺

…

Joel (6:21 PM): Evening, darlin. Just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed having lunch with you today.

you (6:23 PM): me too 💕 (6:23 PM): you have a meeting tomorrow, right?

Joel (6:25 PM): Unfortunately. I don’t know if I’m even going to leave our offices tomorrow, it’s a busy day. (6:25 PM): Can’t believe how difficult it is to find my way across campus when there’s not some kind of emergency or construction (6:26 PM): But on Thursday I’ll be near your class again, for my meeting. Coffee?

you (6:27 PM): sounds perfect!

Joel (6:28 PM): I’ll bring the coffee. ❤️

you (6:29 PM): Joel tell me the truth. is that the first time you’ve ever used an emoji

Joel (6:30 PM): 🙄

you (6:31 PM): 😂 (6:31 PM): how long did it take you to find that one

Joel (6:32 PM): Darlin you know I have a teenager. I am an expert in emojis. 💁 (6:33 PM): I just really only use them with Sarah.

you (6:34 PM): your texts with her must be amazing (6:35 PM): you can’t blame me, you text in full sentences with actual punctuation

Joel (6:35 PM): I wouldn’t say they come naturally to me but I can hold my own. (6:36 PM): I have to or I’d have no idea what she’s talking about. She likes explaining them to me like I’m the oldest person alive. (6:37 PM): The phone does most of that for me, you know.

you (6:37 PM): true (6:37 PM): ok now I’m curious, what’s the last emoji Sarah explained to you

Joel (6:38 PM): 💅

you (6:38 PM): 😂

...

Thursday, October 24 Ninth week of the semester

You met for coffee outside after your class on Thursday like you’d agreed. He had time between his meeting and the end of your class so he was waiting for you outside of your classroom, two coffees in hand and a grin on his face. It was a sight you could get used to, you thought.

In the end, your coffee date wasn’t rushed, but it wasn’t particularly lengthy, either. You stood together under some of the nicer trees on the quad, enjoying your afternoon coffee and resisting the urge to lean into each other too much in public. You did allow yourself to reach out and hook your fingers through his own, hidden by the angle of your bodies as he leaned back against one of the trees. His thumb moved in light circles against the back of your hand and it made your head swim a little.

“How’s the planning for graduation going?” You tried to keep your mind on innocent conversational topics like the meeting he’d just come from, rather than the way he looked so inviting leaning up against the tree in his denim button-up shirt, or the way his fingers felt tangled with yours.

He rolled his eyes. “It’s always a mess, this early. Too many people who want different things, and for some reason I have to be there for all of it. We haven’t even gotten near the landscaping yet.”

You laughed. “You need a friend in there with you, someone you can pass notes to.” You smiled, thinking of how you and Jillian usually did that during faculty meetings. It was the only way to survive Trevor.

He nodded. “Tess is usually there, too, she’s the rep from the STEM programs. But she had to actually get involved in the discussion today. She and this guy from the business school have a long-standing beef over something to do with the order of the program. He’s an asshole, but she won’t let him win, so he turns everything into a battle between their schools.”

You snorted. “I bet she usually wins.”

He grinned and nodded. “She does. But he keeps trying. It’s entertaining to watch, honestly. Something to pass the time.”

You smiled, imagining it.

He coughed. “You know, she’s still giving me a hard time for the other day.”

You rolled your eyes. “So is Beth, and she wasn’t even there. What are best friends for, I guess.”

He smiled. “That’s alright, darlin’. I’d do it again, just the same. Would kiss you right here on the quad again, if it wasn’t so crowded with students, ‘n I figure you wouldn’t want that.”

You laughed, and felt your cheeks heat again, like always around Joel. “Yeah, I can see at least three of my students from here, I’d rather not have that come up in class.”

He hummed and squeezed your fingers, out of sight between you. “Just more to look forward to for tomorrow, then.” You smiled.

…

Friday, October 25 Ninth week of the semester

you (4:17 PM): what are you wearing?

Joel (4:19 PM): … right now, darlin?

you (4:20 PM): tonight!! (4:20 PM): omg (4:21 PM): what are you wearing tonight, for dancing! 😳

Joel (4:23 PM): Ah, gotcha. (4:24 PM): This place isn’t too fancy, I think most people will be in jeans.

you(4:25 PM): sorry! I realized how it sounded after I sent it

Joel (4:27 PM): No need to apologize. It’s not like I’d be opposed to that sort of thing.

you (4:28 PM): …oh? (4:28 PM): and what sort of thing would that be, Joel?

Joel (4:30 PM): Darlin, I think you know what.

you (4:31 PM): well, I mean, I am a bit surprised (4:32 PM): I know you just told me about your emoji expertise but I wouldn’t have guessed you’d be a big fan of texting otherwise

Joel (4:34 PM): You’d have guessed right, to be honest, but I’d do just about anything with you. (4:39 PM): And that includes letting you know that I can’t stop thinking about how gorgeous you’re going to look tonight, and how much I’m going to love being the one to take you out. How much I can’t wait to tuck you under my arm and kiss your neck again, right on that spot under your ear, the one that had you making those pretty little sounds in your office. Almost kissed you in public again yesterday, you know. Kissing you is all I’ve thought about this week, honey, and I can’t wait to do it again. (4:40 PM): Well, maybe I better wait until tonight to say more about that.

you (4:41 PM): Joel!!

Joel (4:43 PM): I’ll see you at 7, gorgeous.

you (4:44 PM): alright, you tease. see you then

Joel (4:47 PM): It ain’t teasing, honey. It’s a promise, one I will absolutely follow through on tonight.

you (4:49 PM): you better. now stop not-teasing me or I’ll never be ready for you by 7

Joel (4:51 PM): See you then, honey. ❤️

you (4:51 PM): 💕

...

a/n: yes, next week is the date! I promise! (it's also 8k words so like, get excited) prev | next

taglist: @jupiter-soups @ilovepedro @auteurdelabre @anoverwhelmingdin @myloveistoolittle @iknowisoundcrazy @beezusvreeland @screechingphantommaker @bigboiseason123 @joelalorian @untamedheart81 @ashleyfilm @katareyoudrilling @jeewrites

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #tlou fic #x reader #maintenance request fic #JHCGBDM

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