#and having to go back to real life tomorrow after a week and change of blissful quiet

[quillyfied]

Did I just buy some huge kinda gaudy Walmart earrings because they remind me of Stede’s Cursed Suit?

…maybe

#having a bit of an emotional wringer today for reasons beyond me #maybe just sleep deprivation kicking in #and having to go back to real life tomorrow after a week and change of blissful quiet

[tenelkadjowrites]

Nasty - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)

🪟 Summary: Finding comfort in the windows of the apartment building across from yours, your attention is drawn to one housing an attractive new neighbor, Seonghwa, who quickly notices your interest.

🪟 Word count: 7.2k

🪟 Genre & Warnings: one shot smut. neighbors to lovers (kinda). reader is drunk at one point (not in smut scene.) dirty talk. unprotected sex, creampie. oral sex (reader receiving). fingering. choking and hair pulling (hwa receiving). shower sex.

this fic is not meant to represent seonghwa in any way, shape or form.

               You look up from your laptop, yawning and stretching out your legs. It’s almost ten at night and you’ve lost track of time working on your latest project. The beginning of a headache is brewing, signaling that it is now a good place to stop for the night and make something to eat.

               Even so, you linger, propping your chin against the palm of your hand to idly stare out the window of your apartment which looks directly at another building. You’ve come to find comfort in most of the them – the one that always has various plants vying for the sunlight, another that switches between blue and pink hues of colour late at night, even the window that is usually shuttered – all of these have become friends in a way. You may not know a single person in the building across from yours in any real sort of capacity but you are familiar with the residents all the same.

               This familiarity is how you notice a change immediately. One window, usually empty, is now showing light spilling across cardboard boxes and a couch positioned haphazardly in the centre of the room. A new tenant must have moved in. You continue to watch, your mind wandering with all the things you need to do tomorrow when someone enters the space of the window.

               You are so used to seeing snapshots of stranger’s lives in whatever the window shows that the rare occasion an actual person appears, you’re promptly jolted out of your daydreaming.

               A slender man is opening one of the boxes, leaning forward to rummage through it. Multiple necklaces dangle off his neck, which he brushes out of his way impatiently while searching. His hair is swept up in a small ponytail. The man finds whatever he is looking for, straightening up. He’s tall, wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a tight fitting black t-shirt. Then, he’s gone, out of frame.

               You watch curiously for a couple of seconds before losing interest, turning back to your own life, to your own thoughts.

*

               The second time you see the man is a week later when you are tidying up one evening. You happen to look up right when he is crossing the living room. He’s in a sleeveless tank top, well toned arms exposed. His features are blurry due to distance, like looking at something underwater, and then he is gone again.

               Even though it was only a split second, you realize that your heartrate is accelerated. How silly, you chastise, he’s a hazy figure in another building. With a small shake of your head, you turn back to your chores.

*

               Sighing, you turn off the TV, debating just going to bed. Of course, the moment you have some free time from work, you don’t know what to do with yourself. The long list of things to do seems overwhelming but doing anything fun is just as exhausting which results in spending five hours on the couch, watching bad reality shows.

               Now, it is a little after midnight and you cannot help but feel as though the day was wasted. Propping yourself up off the couch, you look out your window, mulling over everything. You aren’t truly paying attention to the collection of windows and that is why you don’t notice him at first.

               In fact, it isn’t until there is a flash of fabric that you sit up a little straighter. The new guy is in the window, yanking his shirt off and tossing it onto the couch. Even though he is far away, and most details are impossible to make out, the distance doesn’t hide how lithe he is nor how in shape. You swallow hard, unable to tear your eyes away for the few seconds he is in frame. I really need to get laid, you think, I’ve been too busy with work and now here I am, gawking at a guy in another apartment building so far away that it looks as if it’s a grainy JPEG.

               Even so, you remain staring at the window, hoping he comes back…and he does, this time with a beer in hand. He’s still shirtless, taking a swig from the drink and turning on the TV. Your eyes rake up along his body, wishing you were just a little closer to make out more of the details. His hair remains in a ponytail, and his pants are tight – they actually look like leather which you can’t imagine wearing.

               At that moment, the man turns to look out the window. Feeling confident in the fact he wouldn’t notice you at this distance, you squint, trying to get a better look at his features.

               That’s when he lifts his hand up and mockingly salutes you.

               With a gasp, you panic and duck back down on the couch out of his view. Immediately after doing so, you curse aloud, wondering why you would do something so foolish. You could have played it off as though you were looking elsewhere and pretended you didn’t even notice him. But to hide like this…well now, this guy knows you were staring at him like a Peeping Tom.

               Mortification sits in as you lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling. What now? Well, you’ll have to keep the blinds closed forever, obviously. The chance of ever making eye contact with him again would be so embarrassing that it is time to think of your window being deleted, like an item in The Sims.

               Covering your face with your hands, you groan. Why did you check him out for such an extended period? How long did he know you were doing it to make fun of you like that? Ugh.

               After about twenty minutes of verbally berating yourself, you carefully poke your head out to look at the window. There is no sign of him but he hadn’t closed the blinds either. Quickly, you scamper over and close yours, letting out a small sigh of relief.

               It is definitely time for bed.

*

               Two weeks later, you’re in the grocery store, staring at the various options of oat milk and feeling overwhelmed. This was how you spent most days now – in a state of overwhelm: with work, keeping friendships up, with whatever the concept of being an adult meant.

               “I prefer the one on the top shelf, myself. With the red cap. I think it tastes a little sweeter.”

               It takes your brain a few long seconds to realize someone is speaking to you. Surprised, you look to your side and then promptly make a strangled noise in the back of your throat.

               It’s Hot Window Guy only this time he isn’t a blurry figure but in perfect clarity in front of you. You recognize him by the ponytail and his slender figure. Momentarily frozen, all you can do is stare. He is tall, wearing a baggy black t-shirt that has a faded logo on it. His jeans hang off his hips, ripped at the knees. His fingers are dotted with small tattoos. His brows are immaculate, like something you usually see in YouTube makeup videos, and his facial features look to be made of marble. The bridge of his nose is long, a distinctive part of his face, with full plump lips.

               There is even a striking tattoo on his neck, two black vines curling around his skin, dotted with bright drops of colour on the red roses. Seeing someone so striking against the backdrop of a generic grocery store, under the harsh fluorescents while top forty radio plays, feels jarring.

               “What?” You finally reply. Great, amazing, really killed it with that one.

               Hot Window Guy points to the assortment of oat milks. “That one, with the red cap. It’s the best one here,” When you don’t reply, he explains, “You’ve been standing here for five minutes so I figured I’d help you out.”

               “How do you know I’ve been here for five minutes?”

               “I saw you when I first turned in this direction. I grabbed my items, which takes me roughly five minutes because I get the same stuff almost every time and when I circled back, you’re still standing here.” He frowns. “Actually, it could be longer than five minutes since you were standing here when I entered, now that I think about it.”

               You yank open the door and snatch the oat milk with the red lid off the shelf, unable to look him in the face again. He’s just too attractive. Why is he talking to you? Does he not realize you were gawking at him through the windows a couple weeks ago?

               “Great, well, thank you,” You say quickly, ready to bolt, “Thanks for the help.”

               “You live in the building across from mine, right? I recognize you from through the window.”

               Your face is warm. You’re pretending to rearrange things in your shopping basket even though all you have is oat milk and some coffee. “Yup, yup.”

               There is a hint of amusement in his next sentence. “You’ve kept the blinds closed since I saluted you. You ever gonna open them again?”

               You think about lying, pretending to have no idea what he is talking about. But you know he would see right through it. Instead, you force yourself to look at him. God, he’s hot, you think, trying to wrangle your brain under control.

               “I was embarrassed that you saw me looking and I was worried I looked creepy.”

               “You stare in everyone’s windows like that?”

               “I wasn’t – I was just looking out my own window and you came into view, that’s it. It wasn’t…it’s not like a kink of mine,” Immediately embarrassed at saying the word kink, you keep blathering, “Like, it isn’t a habit. I just…we all have windows. I was looking out mine.”

               “Right, directly into mine. When I was shirtless.”

               You exhale slowly, feeling incredibly flustered. You manage to look at his face although it is like staring at the sun. He is fighting off a smirk, his basket of items pressed against his hip.

               “What’s your name?” He prompts and after you give yours, he says, “I’m Seonghwa.”

               You nod, taking a step back. It isn’t that you don’t want to be around him – it is simply that he is too attractive and you’re too desperate. He’ll notice and that will be even more embarrassing.

               “Alright, nice meeting you. Bye!” You say quickly, shuffling away from the gorgeous man with the neck tattoo and all the overwhelming variations of oat milk.

*

               But your curiosity gets the best of you and later that night, the blinds seem to beckon. It would be so easy to open them again because since Seonghwa teased you about how they are now always closed. Truth be told, you were starting to miss sunlight during the day and the comforting pull of the illuminated windows at night. Admittedly, it is unrealistic to think that you can never open the blinds ever again.

               But it isn’t until almost midnight that you grow the courage to open them. Your eyes immediately check for the usual windows, seeing the familiar sights of multicoloured lights, plants, TVs, and finally Seonghwa’s.

               But it’s dark. He’s either not home or he’s asleep.

               You feel disappointed although you aren’t even sure what you’re expecting. Leaning against the wall, you think back to the exchange in the store. Was he flirting with you? No, you cast that aside. You weren’t the type people flirted with. In your mind, you trace the way the basket rested on his hip, the curve of his neck with his hair swept up, the way his baggy shirt looked on him –

               Phew, you think, knowing that a guy hasn’t impacted you like this in a long time. Your brain is creating an assortment of downright pornographic mental images which forces you to shut the blinds once more, sternly telling yourself to go to bed.

*

               You’re slightly drunk, teetering in your heels after a night out with your friends. The temperature has dropped considerably over the course of the last few hours and your thin sweater is not helping in the slightest. But you’re almost home, having seen your last friend off just down the street.

               It’s easily one in the morning and the city is filled with that energy that only Saturday nights can bring. The relief of blowing off steam, the taste of alcohol burning on the way down, the heat of bodies pressing together in crowded bars – you notice all these things. But, drunk or not, your favourite part is the glow of the city buildings and the sense that no one is ever truly asleep; there is always something going on.

               So, you take your time, soaking in the moment before reality will come crashing in with Sunday morning.

               That’s why you don’t notice Seonghwa.

               But he notices you.

               “Oh, it’s my neighbor,” A voice says while exiting a bar, leading you to stop in your tracks as all the oxygen leaves your lungs. “This is the girl I was telling you about, Hongjoong.”

               You turn to see Seonghwa in an oversized fur coat. His jeans are well worn but he has a black dress shirt on underneath the coat paired with many necklaces and rings on every finger. His hair is slightly messy in the usual ponytail. On anyone else, the outfit would look ridiculous. On Seonghwa, it looks sexy and comfortable.

               His friend is shorter with facial features so delicate you think of glass. His hair is a shock of red, messed up from the night breeze. Wearing a perfectly tailored dark blue blazer with dress pants, he looks like Seonghwa’s complete opposite as though the two men didn’t share the memo on where they would be going that night.

               “Oh, the Peeping Tom?”

               Embarrassed and intoxicated, you make a sputtering noise of protest. Seonghwa nods and moves closer.

               “You going home?” Seonghwa asks.

               You nod and go, “You’re not?”

               “No, we’re just getting started tonight,” Seonghwa lingers on the word and a heat slowly spreads across your body at being so near him combined with the deepness of his voice, “But you still have a bit of a walk back to your place. Want me to take you?”

               “No, no – thank you. I appreciate it. But that won’t – I’m fine.” You’re mostly worried that being drunk around him will lead to embarrassing yourself further.

               You picture wrapping your hands around his neck, covering the tattoo while squeezing. The image is so vivid that your heart skips a beat. Seonghwa has an expression on his face – like he knows what you’re thinking about.

               He shrugs out of his fur coat. “Here, wear this on the walk back.”

               You’re trying to form a coherent sentence but between the booze and how turned on you are, it just comes out as gibberish.

               Seonghwa, misunderstanding you completely, goes, “It’s faux fur.”

               “No, I – won’t you be cold?”

               “Yeah, won’t you be cold?” Hongjoong chimes up mockingly, raising one eyebrow at Seonghwa.

               “If I get cold, you’ll let me wear your blazer,” He replies smoothly.

               Hongjoong looks affronted. “You most certainly will not wear my blazer.”

               But Seonghwa has tuned his friend out, bringing his attention back on you while his hands sweep the coat around your shoulders. It’s comically big on your frame but is incredibly warm. But you’re staring at the motion of his hands as he straightens the coat gently around your neck and shoulders. His rings glitter in the streetlights and he’s wearing a faint cologne that makes your head swim.

               Hongjoong is still complaining but Seonghwa’s face is so close to yours that it is all you can focus on. Your body is practically screaming for him; you wonder how evident it is that you’re desperate to fuck him. You are sure that your breathing is uneven and that you’re staring at his lips.

               “How will I get it back to you?”

               Seonghwa’s voice is soft while replying, “What’s your apartment number?”

               You tell him.

               “I’ll come by tomorrow night for it.”

               You’re too tongue tied to reply, merely nod. Seonghwa straightens up. His shirt fits him perfectly, like a second skin, and you want to peel it off him, run your fingers along his stomach –

               “See you tomorrow.” He says and then just to make fun of you, he gives a small salute before turning and walking away with Hongjoong, leaving you on the sidewalk in his oversized coat among the city lights.

*

               It’s seven in the evening and you’ve been staring at the TV, not registering anything for an hour now. Seonghwa’s coat is in your lap, bunched in between your fingers. He said tomorrow night. Which is tonight. But no stated time. Night would technically indicate before midnight because after midnight, it’s considered morning. But not everyone thinks of it like that. Which would mean maybe the middle of the night. But who just shows up like that in the middle of the night? And why am I jumping to conclusions? He might knock, ask for his coat and leave. Why am I assuming he would stick around?

               Pathetically, though, you do want him to stick around. You want to fuck him, to be blunt about it. You’d settle for making out. Seonghwa makes your head buzz and your thinking muddled. You barely know him but all you can think about is climbing him like a tree.

               This circular thinking occurs for another hour until ten minutes past eight, there is a knock at your door. Jumping up, you catch yourself, count to ten, and then open the door as if you hadn’t been waiting in agony for Seonghwa.

               But there he is, in front of you, in the hallway of your apartment building.

               “Hi,” You say breathlessly.

               Seonghwa wears a pair of dark blue jeans with a thick black belt, a sharp contrast from his golden dress shirt that looks casually tossed on at the last second. The fabric is thin, slightly shiny, and the buttons are fraying. The top of his chest is exposed, the shirt dipping to show off his tanned skin and one silver necklace with a green pendant adorning it. His ponytail is messy, black strands of fine hair framing his pretty face. In the dim lighting of the hallway, you can see the red roses tattooed around his neck with the bright blooms of colour against the vines.

               You sort of feel as though someone has bashed you over the head with a gigantic fish or some other ridiculous object at the sight of him. You were hoping to look casual, as though you’ve given no thought to him coming by, which means you’re wearing just sweatpants and a shirt. Of course, your cutest bra and underwear is on…just in case.

               Seonghwa’s top lip curls slightly, warding off a smirk as he goes, “Hi. It isn’t too late, is it? I had to go out earlier and it was difficult leaving. Hongjoong kept complaining, wanting me to stay.”

               This man could have shown up at four in the morning and you wouldn’t have cared. “No, it’s fine. Would you like to come in?”

               You are hoping he does, worried he will opt just to quickly ask for his coat and leave. To your relief, Seonghwa nods, stepping inside and slipping his shoes off. When he isn’t looking, you exhale slowly in an attempt to wrangle your emotions under control.

               He follows you into the living room where you offer him something to drink and he asks for water. Your place is small, allowing you to see him from the kitchen.

               “Did you come from a party?” You ask, trying to make some sort of conversation.

               “Did the shirt give it away?” He jokes, “I did but we were out so late last night. I didn’t get to bed until almost seven so I left early tonight.”

               “In the morning?” You are shocked – getting home past one last night was late for you.

               Seonghwa gives a small shrug in reply. The shirt is so thin. You’re distracted by the material and how easy it would be to tear it right off him. Returning to the living room, you hand him the glass of water and gingerly sit down on the couch. Seonghwa takes his place next to you.

               You scoop the coat up, handing it to him. He grabs it, his long fingers gripping the fabric. “Thanks for letting me borrow it. You weren’t cold last night?”

               “I wasn’t outside too much. We went to a house party and I didn’t need it there.”

               You get the feeling Seonghwa leads a very different life than yours – one full of parties and who knows what sort of activities.

               “So, you didn’t just move to the city?”

               “No, I’ve lived here my whole life. Just upgrading my place. Although I do need some help decorating it. You should open the blinds again and tell me what you think of the place next time I’m there.”

               You shift nervously, already feeling your cheeks grow warm. He takes a sip of water before resting the glass on the coffee table.

               “Please don’t misunderstand,” You begin to say, “I wasn’t peeping. I just was looking out the window, that’s all. I find it comforting at night. Certain windows become comforting. Like you always know what to expect when you see them. Knowing they are home, hoping they’re having a nice night when they aren’t. Do you know what I mean?”

               Seonghwa tilts his face in your direction. There is an unreadable expression on his face when he replies, “I know what you mean.”

               A quiet moment passes.

               “But you were looking at me. A little longer than you normally would. Weren’t you?”

               “I…” You clear your throat gently. “I was just surprised to see someone half undressed in the window like that.”

               “So, it was just that you were surprised and had nothing to do with me then?”

               You’re torn between throwing yourself at him and hiding under your covers. You get the feeling Seonghwa is good at this, this sort of flirting, this way of wording things and playing coy. You are not especially when the man is as gorgeous as him.

               You make a sort of strange, garbled noise that isn’t actually a word known in any language. Seonghwa grins for a brief moment, shifting slightly so that his knee touches yours. Even though there is no skin to skin contact, it is enough to make your head dizzy.

               “It’s okay,” Seonghwa whispers secretively while tilting his face close to yours, “You can admit it.”

               The tension is so thick that it smothers. Even though you know next to nothing about this man, there is no denying how much you desire him.

               “You’re not usually the type of guy I like,” You mumble.

               He brings his slender fingers, dotted with small tattoos, to your chin, gently bringing your lips ever nearer. His eyes are half lidded, lips barely parting when replying, “What’s your type?”

               “Nice guys.”

               “I’m nice,” Seonghwa replies in that ever deepening voice as the precipice looms.

               His fingers are warm against your chin. His lips are a pretty shade of pink, begging to be kissed. So quietly that you aren’t even sure if he can hear it, you whisper, “I don’t want you to be nice.”

               Seonghwa’s body is shifting in your direction. The coat is forgotten, still in his lap – a paltry excuse to come over and you both knew it. Perhaps the desire to sleep together was always a mutual one. Regardless of when the seed took root, you somehow both knew it would end up right here.

               “What do you want me to be then?” He murmurs, his breath like soft feathers against your lips.

               “I want you to be nasty.” The words land gently in Seonghwa’s lap, a cat laying down for a nap, and the corners of his lips quirk up for a split second in a smile.

               “I can do that,” He replies and kisses you.

               The sensation of his lips overwhelms all your senses. You have no interest in playing coy; your desire for him is too much, too strong. Reaching for his hands, you press them against your body in a silent plea to give you more. Seonghwa obeys, his hands traveling upwards to grope your breasts through your shirt. The kiss deepens and his tongue is in your mouth. You can taste him, crave more of him.

               Your skin is hot and your heart is racing. Your hands grip the front of his shirt, using the last of your self control not to tear the flimsy fabric off his chest. Instead, you bite down on his bottom lip and Seonghwa groans in pleasure. He moves one hand downward to the front of your sweatpants, pressing his palm against your clothed pussy. He rubs it a little, creating enough friction that makes you whimper in his mouth.

               You suck on Seonghwa’s tongue for a couple of seconds which causes him to make a small noise in the back of his throat that does nothing to calm you down. He’s pawing at you now through your clothes and you are gripping his shirt so hard that it is crumpled in your fingers.

               Your underwear is sticking to your pussy from how wet it is and from Seonghwa’s palm pressing there. Thankfully, his hand moves, slipping under the band of your sweatpants. The kisses are growing messy, the urgency at which the two of you want one another threatening to spill over.

               That’s when one of the buttons of his shirt pops off. Surprised, you break the kiss to look down at it in your hand. Seonghwa only laughs as you hastily apologize for ruining his shirt.

               “It’s fine.” He doesn’t seem to care at all, instead his tone indicates amusement. “It’s an old shirt.”

               “Even so, I don’t –” Your sentence is cut off with a moan as Seonghwa brushes his finger across your swollen clit through the front of your underwear.

               “What was that?” He asks.

               Your head is swimming while trying to retrieve the sentence from the haziness of your mind. “I don’t want to ruin your shirt.”

               “You can ruin anything you’d like,” Seonghwa says as his fingers push your underwear to the side. “I don’t mind.”

               Once again, your reply is cut short by Seonghwa deftly rubbing your clit with his index finger. His lips find yours and whatever sentence you could have formed is washed away by how good everything is. He doesn’t stop rubbing your clit, the pace ever increasing, and you realize he is going to make you finish.

               In between kisses, Seonghwa murmurs, “God, you’re fucking soaked.” There is a note of approval in his voice that you instinctively react to, arching your hips slightly.

               Your breathing is uneven as your orgasm draws close. Seonghwa doesn’t stop – to him, it is like making you finish already is just the first step in the night ahead, not the ending event. When you cum, your head rolls back against the couch as he leans down to kiss along your neck, nibbling on your skin.

               Your hips lower back down as you realize he hadn’t removed an inch of clothing to make you climax like that. Seonghwa brings his finger to his lips, licking it clean to taste your pussy. You reach for him, crushing his lips against yours while bringing your hand against the front of his jeans to touch the bulge straining on the denim. Seonghwa inhales sharply. Your impatience is nipping at your heels. You want to feel him inside you; your orgasm did nothing to sate your desire.

               Kicking off your sweatpants, you get in Seonghwa’s lap, tossing the coat to the side. Fiddling with his belt, you grind down on his jeans and he groans again. The belt joins the coat, a small collection of items that are no longer necessary to what is unfolding. It takes only a few extra seconds to free his cock from the confines of his jeans and boxers. Seonghwa shivers at your touch as you grind your pussy against him while hastily unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, exposing his chest.

               He’s in shape, with perfect skin, warm to the touch. The green pendant rests against his skin, cold to the touch when your fingers brush against it. His shirt remains open, hanging off his shoulders. Between all the making out, his hair is messy, the ponytail threatening to come undone.

               Positioning yourself so that the head of his cock is at your entrance with your underwear pushed to the side, you sink down, taking his length easily. Seonghwa is thick, filling your pussy up as you shudder from the intensity. He groans, eyes fluttering for a few seconds as he takes in the sensation of your warm walls around his cock. His hands rest on your hips, waiting for you to get used to him.

               You can’t remember the last time you wanted someone this badly. The fact you know so little about Seonghwa matters not; you are too focused on how sexy he looks and how good it is to have his cock inside your cunt.

               You tentatively rock your hips, enjoying the feeling of being stuffed. Your hand goes down to play with your swollen clit. You’re not even bouncing in his lap, instead marveling at the pleasure of just having him inside you.

               Seonghwa moves one hand upwards to cup your cheek, his thumb grazing your lips while he asks in a soft voice, “That feel good, baby?” After nodding, you open your lips slightly, just enough for his thumb to enter.

               You bite down on him gently while still moving your hips. Your tongue presses against his thumb. He is watching you with lust and when he catches a glimpse of your tongue, he pulls his thumb away and growls out, “Come here.”

               He pushes you towards him, driving his cock further inside your pussy while hungrily kissing you. This kiss is sloppy, tongue against tongue. Your hand is on the back of his neck, pulling out the tie in his hair. The black strands fall messily around his face and around your fingers.

               You start bouncing in his lap while kissing. His hands gently rest on your lower back. Both of you are barely undressed; time is of the essence. His spit is in your mouth and you are sure that you’re making a lot of noise but don’t care. It simply feels too good and it has been far too long since you’ve fucked anyone.

               The kiss breaks and with a gasp, Seonghwa requests, “Pull my hair.”

               And you do, giving it a sharp tug while he drives his cock deep into your hole. His cheeks are flushed with a reddish hue and his lips are slightly swollen from all the kissing and biting. You’re staring at Seonghwa’s neck, admiring the way the vines of his tattoo curl around his skin. The bright red of the small roses match the tiny plums of colour on his cheeks.

               Seonghwa notices that you’re staring and seems to know exactly what you’re thinking because he reaches for your hands, bringing them up to his neck. You squeeze and he groans, eyes closing as he arches his hips to slam his cock upwards inside your cunt.

               His breathing is growing ragged and you know he’s close. “Do it again,” He pleads in a strangled voice and your hands tighten around his neck once more. He looks exquisite as his pleasure reaches the pinnacle. He groans, head rolling back as you release the grip on his slender neck. His hair is splayed out against the back of the couch, his toned chest rising and falling rapidly while his eyes flutter closed.

               Small moans topple out from in between Seonghwa’s pretty pink lips as he climaxes. Filling your cunt with his cum, your hands run down his chest, feeling his muscles underneath your fingertips. When his head begins to clear, Seonghwa opens his eyes, fixating his gaze on you.

               Gently, he shifts positions, sliding you off his lap, tugging up his boxers and moving so that he’s facing you. He tugs off your underwear, tossing them to the floor and spreads your legs apart. Unsure of what he is going to do, you’re surprised when he brings two fingers to your entrance and slips them inside the mess he’s left in you.

               Seonghwa begins to pump his fingers in and out of your hole quickly, bringing his face downwards to wrap his lips around your clit. The entire process only takes a few seconds and the intensity of the pleasure hits you hard. Gasping, your hand finds his hair, gripping onto it while being finger fucked. You can hear the pornographic sounds of Seonghwa’s long fingers plunging in your wetness that is filled with his load. The tip of his tongue rapidly flicks across your clit.

               His shirt is hanging off his shoulders, his jeans loose around his waist. His tongue feels like the best thing in the world, only slightly better than the way his fingers curl upwards inside your cunt. The sound of his tongue lapping at your clit mixed with the squelching of his fingers makes you finish with a loud moan, unable to stop from grinding your hips against his face.         

               Seonghwa stops touching your clit, bringing his tongue to your hole instead to lick up his cum and yours. Your hand releases his hair while trying to catch your breath. Seonghwa looks up then with a devilish look in his eyes that makes your skin warm all over.

               He gets up, making no effort to button up his shirt. “May I use your bathroom?” He indicates the mess on his face, leaving down the small hallway after you tell him where it is.

               You quickly wiggle your underwear and sweatpants back on as your face grows hot. You haven’t ever slept with someone so soon after meeting them. But you’ve also never desired someone as much as Seonghwa before. Now what? You wonder if he’s just going to return and tell you that he needs to go.

               But when he returns, the remaining buttons on his shirt lazily done back up (one is skipped completely in the middle), he plops back down on the couch, looking in your direction.

               “You wanna grab dinner?”

*

               “Showering with someone is never sexy,” You say while shoving the leftovers from the Chinese takeout that was ordered an hour earlier into your fridge, “It sounds sexy in theory but someone is always just out of reach of the shower head and is cold or they don’t like the water temperature or whatever.”

               The conversation about fooling around in the shower had started ten minutes prior when Seonghwa made a flirtatious suggestion. But with only uninspired sexual shower experiences to fall back on, you had demurred until Seonghwa got a confession out of you that it was your belief nothing sexy happened in the shower.

               He’s lounging on the couch, looking completely comfortable, like someone who has been in your apartment a thousand times. His hair is still down and out of the small ponytail, curling against the nape of his neck.

               “I’m different,” Seonghwa protests, clearly shocked someone doesn’t want to shower with him.

               “Not like the other girls?” You joke, sitting back down on the couch.

               “I’m not,” He refutes, “Let me show you. It’ll be fun.”

               “It’ll be awkward.”

               Seonghwa gazes at you steadily with that same mischievous look on his face that he had the night he saluted you through the window. Your heart skips a beat, picturing the hot water rolling down his skin. He seems to know exactly what you’re thinking about once again because he leans forward, close enough to kiss you.

               “No,” He murmurs and you both know that he’s got you in his web, “It’ll be nasty.”

*

               Ten minutes later, you’re pressed against the cold wall of your shower while incredibly hot water runs down your body. Seonghwa’s lips are on yours, his body lithe and warm, angled against your body. His kisses are slow this time, deepening with each one while his hands roam across your body. You can feel him stiff against your thigh.

Seonghwa’s lips are on your neck now, sucking on the skin, while your hand curls around the pendant. It’s warm against your palm, quieting all your nerves in the strange familiarity of it and Seonghwa.

               “See, this isn’t so bad,” He mumbles in that deep voice of his as his hand slinks downward in between your thighs, “Not awkward at all. Maybe it’s just the people you’ve been with.”

               There is no witty retort because his finger touches your clit. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, hard muscles under your hands as he continues to lazily rub your swollen nub.

               “Maybe if you had slept with a neighbor sooner, you wouldn’t have had any awkward shower experiences,” Seonghwa continues conversationally, “I’m just thinking aloud.”

               His finger moves off your clit and dips in between your wet folds. You’re thinking about his dick back inside your cunt, thinking about his hips moving –

               “Well, I guess we should get out now,” Seonghwa says casually, and your eyes snap open.

               “What?” You say, confused.

               “You weren’t really into the idea, right? So, we don’t have to spend long in here.”

               You pull away from him, looking at his face. The confusion is swiped clean at seeing that glint in his eye. “Are you teasing me?” You ask.

               “Now, why would I do that?” Seonghwa replies in mock seriousness. “I’m being considerate. I’m being a nice guy.”

               You’re squirming against his fingers now, which have gone still just outside your hole. “Well, stop.”

               At this, he laughs. “Stop being considerate? What should I do then?” You like the way his wet hair frames his face, jet black against his skin.

               “Fuck me,” You say plaintively.

               Seonghwa adjusts, reaching down for your leg, resting your foot on the small shower shelf. His cock is pressing against your pussy lips and the steam is thickening from how hot the water is. Seonghwa hasn’t complained once about the temperature.

               “You want me to fuck you, baby?” After you nod, he goes, “Then hold onto me.”

               And you do, curling your body close to his with one foot planted firmly on the shower floor and the other on the shelf. Seonghwa’s hands are on your lower back, pressing you tightly against him as he slides his cock inside your wet cunt.

               The sensation of him filling you up from this angle makes you clutch Seonghwa harder. His skin is hot against your hands, your face is buried in his neck as the water makes your bodies slick against each other.

               “Fuck, your cunt is tight,” Seonghwa growls when he is fully inside.

               You’d speak but your mind is wiped clean of any words, lost to the sensation of his big cock buried to the hilt in your hole. He moves his hips slightly, just enough to make you whimper. Your hand is on the back of his neck and you can feel his wet hair on your fingertips.

               His hands move down to your ass, gripping it hard as he starts to pump his hips. The water runs down your bodies as Seonghwa fucks you. His skin is flushed, his lips slightly swollen from all the kissing. He’s making noises that only give you cause to want him more. He holds you so tightly that you aren’t afraid of slipping. Your own grip on him is just as hard, refusing to let him go as if the two of you can become one in that moment.

               The angle is delicious as the tip of his cock brushes against your sweet spot. You bite down on his shoulder from the intensity of the pleasure and Seonghwa groans in approval. His tattoos look brighter somehow in the water and you drag your lips up along the vines that curl around his delicate neck.

               He pants out your name as his movements quicken. Your walls tighten around his length, anticipating his load. Your own climax is approaching as Seonghwa as his thrusts increase in speed. The sound of skin against skin, the shower water striking you, the steam rising and filling the space and the hungry kisses – all of it collides in one moment, overwhelming your senses.

               When you climax, so does Seonghwa. Together, your pleasure crests and breaks. Your pussy milks his cock which spills inside you, leaking out from in between your folds. Seonghwa tilts his face towards you, finding your lips with his and kisses you slowly.

               When he pulls away to study your expression, he goes, “So? How was that?”

               Panting, you reply, “Good. Good shower experience.”

               “Told you,” Seonghwa says smugly. “You know, I fuck even better in a bed.”

               And you smile.

*

               Your phone buzzes late one evening, a week after your night with Seonghwa. Yawning, you look at your phone, half asleep watching TV.

               The text reads, “Cum 2 the window.”

               If it had been sent by anyone else, you would have found the fuckboy style of writing tiresome. But on Seonghwa, you don’t mind it at all. Getting off the couch, you lumber towards the window, looking over at Seonghwa’s.

               He is standing there, shirtless in just a pair of black jeans with his hair up. After the night together, you hadn’t thought you would hear from him again. He seemed like the type to fuck and go; maybe it was his personality, the swagger he had, or a combination of it. You assumed people would throw themselves at him with such regularity that he could go through lovers swiftly.

               But Seonghwa texted you all week, engaging in a mixture of sexting and actual conversations. Neither of you had been quick to jump into bed together again; drawing it out created more pleasure than darting over to each other’s apartments every time the urge struck.

               You type back, “Did you drag me off the couch just to stare at you shirtless?”

               Even from the distance, you can just barely make out his grin. “Maybe.” The expression is familiar; it is the same one he wore after basically fucking you into the mattress after the shower sex. “Wanna cum over?”

               “Too cold,” You reply teasingly, “You’re the one with that ridiculous coat. You come over.”

               Seonghwa cocks his head to one side. You wonder tonight if the pressure will crack and break. His reply pops up a few seconds later. “Alright. I’ll be there in 15.”

               Your heart swoops. You don’t reply, just lift your gaze from the phone to look over at him in his window, your heart swelling.

               And Seonghwa playfully salutes before dipping out of view.

the end.

#seonghwa x reader #ateez fics #seonghwa smut #ateez smut #seonghwa fics #kpop fic #nasty #100 notes #500 notes

[roxygen22]

FAMILY BUSINESS

"My Little Cocoa Bean" Series

Willy was absolutely smitten by his "little cocoa bean," Benjamin. You called him Ben for short, but Willy affectionately called him Bean. He stayed home from the factory for a bit to help you recover and bond with the baby. He made the most of his limited time off doting on you both. Unless Ben was feeding, he was in Willy's arms. He was truly a devoted, loving father and husband.

Willy went back to work when Ben was about three weeks old. It was an adjustment to be alone with the baby all day, but it made Willy's returns in the evening all the more sweeter. After about six months, he came home with an idea.

"Now that he is a little older and more sturdy, why don't I take Bean with me to work one or two days a week so that you can have some time to yourself?" Willy not-so-secretly struggled going back to work, often lamenting how much he missed you both, but he knew he had to provide for his family.

"Oh my. I love the concept, but how are you going to handle business or have your hands free to make chocolate?" you asked as it took both of your hands to keep Ben from launching himself out of your lap to get to his papa.

"Easy!" Willy exclaimed as he scooped up the baby. "I saw Lottie today, and she had little Georgie tied to her chest with a wrap. Then it clicked - I could do that, too! Besides, babies are good for business! He's so cute, he'll draw a crowd," he mused as he squished his nose against Ben's chubby cheek, then turned to you with a pouty lip.

"I guess we could give it a try. Maybe start with a half day?" you said, excited about the potential but nervous about its execution. You loved your husband, but you were not sure he fully understood what he was in for. You did, however, always admire his determination to get what he wanted in life, even if he resorted to playing on your sympathies with a pout.

"Great! I already went by the store to get fabric to make a sling." You shook your head fondly and went about your evening routine.

Thanks to his mamma's teachings, Willy was handy with a needle and thread. A couple of nights later, his contraption was ready for testing at home. Ben was quite cozy snuggled up on his father's chest, gently babbling while Willy washed the dishes after dinner. Everything was going swimmingly. "Tomorrow would be a good day to try this out for real," he said. "I don't have any business meetings, so I'll just be splitting my time between the stores and the factory."

"Ok," you said tentatively. "I'll get his bag ready and write down his daytime schedule." The next morning, you loaded Willy down with everything he would need - extra clothes for both father and son, burp cloths, bottles, diapering supplies, etc. "So he'll need to eat again in a couple of hours. That will probably be when he needs another diaper change. And he'll need to go down for a na..."

Willy put a hand on your arm to interrupt you, rubbing up and down to calm your nerves. "I've got this. Okay? I want you to focus on enjoying your alone time." Admittedly, you were looking forward to a chance to curl up with a good book without intertuption for a few hours.

"Alright, Bean, ready for some adventure?" The baby cooed and raspberried spit all over Willy's hand. "I'll take that as a yes. Allons-y! Wave bye to mamma!"

"Bye bye, my boys. Have a good day!" You stood at the front door and waved them off.

<><><><>

Willy stopped first at his flagship store in the Galeries Gourmet to ensure things were in order. Mrs. Pennington, a regular customer always in the company of her granddaughter, spotted the chocolatier. "Well, hello there, Mrs. Pennington, Miss Hannah," he greeted and tipped his hat at the ladies. "Are you finding everything okay?"

"Indeed, Mr. Wonka. Thank you," the grandmother smiled. "And who is this handsome little one?" Ben babbled and cooed.

"This is my son, Bean. I mean, Benjamin," Willy replied with a proud smile.

"Oh, how lovely. Learning the family business early, eh?"

"As my mamma said, 'It's not the chocolate that matters. It's the people you share it with.'"

"I remember when my children were that little. Soak it up, Mr. Wonka. It doesn't last long." She patted the baby on the cheek and then continued her shopping. Willy turned around to wipe away a tear and kiss his son on the head.

Ben seemed to enjoy interacting with customers, smiling at their baby talk and staring around the store with wide eyes. But after a couple of hours, he started to fuss. The cashier was on break, so Willy was working the register, bouncing the baby in an attempt to silence his whimpers until he could break away to make a bottle. "Would you like your change spendable or edible?" He practically had to shout at the customers to be heard over Ben's fussing. Luckily the cashier came back before fussing became screaming.

"Okay, Bean, give me just a second and we'll silence those tummy grumbles," he said as he made his way to the stockroom. He deftly prepped a bottle and freed the baby from the sling. Very soon, Ben was reclining in Willy's arms and greedily sucking down a bottle. "See, I told your mamma I've got this."

<><><><>

Once Ben was fed and changed, Willy packed up the diaper bag and set out for the factory. Lulled by his father's swaying, Ben stayed asleep for a good while even after being transferred into the bassinet Willy had set up in his office. Inventing and chocolate making weren't exactly quiet endeavors, so Willy caught up on a bit of bookkeeping instead.

Ben eventually started stirring, alerting Willy with his soft coos. "Hi, sleepy head. Are you ready to go make some chocolate?" Willy set him back in the sling and made his way to the Idea Lab. Feeling refreshed from his nap, the little one was very alert, so Willy thought it would be fun to make this an interactive experience.

"Alright, Bean, I need to come up with something new, and you're going to help me," Willy announced while holding up two jars. "Which jar should I start with?" Of course, Ben's attention was grabbed by the brighest color of the two. "Ooh, essence of rainbow. Good call. What next?" he asked, continuing to hold up two jars at a time for the baby to choose from until he gathered enough.

Willy added the ingredients to his travel factory, which he still used for small batch experiments. Ben stared in wonder as the brightly colored liquids flowing down the spiral tube and giggled at the production noises. Willy was busy pressing buttons and pulling levers when the first chocolates came out of the machine and didn't pay close enough attention to Ben's stray hands. Willy looked down to see the baby's tiny hand grabbing and mashing melted chocolate into the fabric of the sling, his hair, and both of their shirts.

"Well, now I understand why your mother sent spare clothes for both of us." He wiped chocolate off his son's cheek with a finger and licked it. "Tastes good, though! I need to write that concoction down."

<><><><>

You were sitting on the couch with your book when Willy came home at lunchtime. Both boys and even their spare clothes were covered in chocolate. You had to stifle a giggle as you tried to figure out how to best grab the sticky baby without getting covered yourself.

Willy gave you a tired look but also huffed a quiet laugh. "I may have overestimated my ability to keep things under control. I don't know how you get anything done, my sweet. I always knew you were amazing, but you must have superhuman powers."

"Perhaps," you winked as you stripped Ben out of his clothes and started rinsing him off in the sink. "Are you sure you still want to make this a regular occurrence?"

"I would do it again in a heartbeat. But not before I have a bath."

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

MASTERLIST

#willy wonka x reader #willy wonka and the chocolate factory #wonka x reader #wonka movie #wonka #willy wonka #timmy!wonka #timothee!wonka #timothée chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chamalet #wonka 2023 #wonka x you #drabble #tooth rotting fluff #established relationship #mom reader #dad!wonka #papa!wonka #timothee fanfic #timothee x reader #fem reader #dad wonka #papa wonka

[aakeysmash]

Roommate or boss?

part 1, part 3, part 4

Pairing: f!reader x Katsuki Bakugou.

Warnings: cursing, maybe a little bit of suggestive language.

Word count: 2079 words.

Having Katsuki as a roommate proved to be not that bad. He was almost never home apart from most evenings, and when he was home, he minded his own business.

It’s not like he didn’t acknowledge you to be under his same roof, he was a decent guy, even if he swore a lot.

After sleeping in the guest room for a month, he painted it like he said he would at the beginning, and it took him 3 days. He had to sleep on the couch to not inhale the fumes, and you heard him cursing every morning.

“Can you keep it down? Jeez, it’s 7 am” you say coming out of your room, having heard the commotion in the living room.

“You have to change this shit of a couch. My back hurts so fucking much. My feet don’t even fucking stay on the couch while I sleep ‘cause of how fucking small it is” he barks at you.

“Not my fault you’re big” you say yawning, while rubbing your eyes and going straight towards the coffee machine. You hated having early lectures.

He scoffs. You widen your eyes, shooting him a mean look.

“I meant to say you’re tall” you add.

“Huh? And what would even be the other meaning? Freak” he says flipping you off and sitting himself at the table.

“Whatever” you mumble, putting your coffee in a cup.

“Give me some” he says stretching his hand.

“Make it yourself, big guy” you reply, sticking your tongue out and going towards your own room.

“OI! And here I was about to make you breakfast in exchange” he loudly says.

You turn around and smile at him sweetly. “Roomieeee you didn’t have toooo” you say, trying to hug him.

You know he hates physical contact. He told you so after you accidentally touched his hand passing him the salt one day at dinner. He jumped out of his chair like he was burned by your touch.

“GET OFF OF ME YOU GREMLIN!”.

Meanwhile, things at work could be going better. Your manager came back the day after your talk with Kirishima, and saying that she was pissed off and nervous at the same time would be an understatement.

For the weeks after, she was nicer than she ever was with the clients, but meaner with you and your colleagues. Bitch.

One day you’re cleaning the milk machine when Momo comes behind you.

“I heard the boss came to know about her little escapades and he wasn’t happy” she whispers in your ear.

You throw her a sneaky look before admitting “it might be my fault”.

Momo gasps. “What? Why haven’t you told me anything?” she whisper yells now.

“Shh! It happened last month. You know the guy with the spikey red hair?” you ask her, and she nods.

“Apparently, he’s the boss’s right hand. He told me the boss needed her and I told him she left” you calmly explain.

“I hope she doesn’t come to know it was you who told him that. She’s already making our life a living hell” she sighs.

“Whatever” you say rolling your eyes. “I’m clocking out, see you tomorrow?”.

“As always, babe”.

While you’re going out, you shoot a text to your new roommate. You’re feeling lazy, but you don’t want to feel lazy alone.

You: ordering takeout right now. Do you want something?

Katsuki (roommate): who dis

You: Katsuki are you for real?

You: I’m your roommate

You: you didn’t even save my number?

Katsuki (roommate): wtv

Katsuki (roommate): get me wings

Katsuki (roommate): extra spicy

You: sorry, who’s this???

Katsuki (roommate): petty bitch

Katsuki (roommate): im locking the door

You: I’m calling the firefighters down the street and you’re gonna pay for the new door then

Katsuki (roommate): just get me fkn wings woman

You roll your eyes. This man is insufferable.

“What are you doing Saturday night?” you say while munching on your chips on the couch.

Katsuki is cooking dinner for the both of you. He’s been living with you for the past 4 months now. You’ve grown accustomed to his antics, and he’s done the same with yours. For example, he knew how you tended to overcook his eggs. And since he hated that, he cooked them himself, just like he was doing right now.

“Hopefully not seeing your ugly face” he grumbles. He watches you over his shoulder and puckers his lips. “Why are you so fucking disgusting? I always find crumbs of everything on that fucking couch”.

You roll your eyes. “Just answer the question, Bakugou”.

“Not gonna be home. I have to run errands at work. You bringing some scum over? I’m not cleaning stains on top of your shitty crumbs on that couch”.

He’s not paying attention to what you do anymore, cutting up vegetables.

“And I’m the disgusting one? Ew” you cringe. “Ochaco and I wanted to have girl’s night. It’s been a while since we’ve done that, but her roommates are at home”.

“Short girl, brown hair, round face?” He asks.

“Yeah”. You’re surprised he remembers, but it’s true that you’re basically always calling her.

“Don’t mind. When’s your next shift? You’re next on the “cleaning the bathroom” list”. He adds.

You barely ever talk about work: he said that he’s some type of accountant and he knows you’re some kind of barista. After all, you both don’t care about what the other does if you both still pay rent on time.

You like these little moments you have with him. They don’t happen that often, but it’s like you’re bonding over time. He doesn’t look like he thinks the same, though. Most of the time he voices that you’re “pissing him the fuck off with all your stupid fucking questions”.

“Tomorrow morning, and then on Sunday. It’s weird now that my ex-manager isn’t around anymore, our schedules are much more organised. I wonder why she got fired” you say thoughtful.

Katsuki stiffens up. Your manager has been fired the same week he fired Camie? Must be a coincidence, a lot of extras are shitty workers anyways. He shrugs it off.

He turns abruptly to face you and he scares you so bad you throw the chips in the bowl lying on your lap on your face. He laughs like a maniac.

“Why did you do that?! I get it, you’re a clean freak! Okay! I’ll clean the damn bathroom!” You angrily say.

“Curry is ready, rat” he says, wiping his tears.

“Great, now I’m a rat too?”. Katsuki has this bad habit of always forgetting names and just giving everyone mean nicknames.

“With all those cheese chips on your face? Yes, dumbass” and he starts laughing again.

“It’s all your fault!” you whine, and then help him set the table. You might be annoyed, but you know his curry is bomb.

You’re so happy to be free from Camie’s claws that you and Ochaco drink more than you normally do on Saturday night.

You’re both lying lazily on your bed when she’s telling you about her new boyfriend. He’s the same guy from that one physics assignment (which, by the way, you didn’t fail), and she calls him Deku.

“I swear you’d like him Y/N. He’s so shy, but his arms are so biteable” she dreamily sighs.

You look up at the ceiling before answering “and what’s the correlation between any of the statements you just made?”.

She throws you a punch. “Why are you lucid still? Just… blabber!” she complains.

You chuckle. “I’m so getting an aspirin for tomorrow morning, for both me and you. Just go under the covers and sleep while I’m gone, okay?”.

She nods and you stand up, wobbling towards your kitchen.

“You know, you still haven’t delved into how good or bad things are going with your new roommate” she suddenly says. “You know I need the details”.

You lean on the wall next to your door for some stability before thinking about it.

“He’s good, I guess. We talk here and there when we’re both home, he told me he’s enrolled in economy. He seems rough but he knows how to cook some bomb ass curry, so I’ll keep him” you sluggishly reply. Damn, you really drank too much.

“Yeah Y/N you’ve told me this much. But do you find him hot? Did any of you just enter the bathroom not knowing the other was in it?” your best friend mumbles.

“He locks the door before doing anything” you roll your eyes, then wince because it has hurt your head.

“He’s mean, but he takes the time to be a good roommate I guess? I’d like to know him more than he lets others know, yeah, but he’s not very talkative. To be honest, I think that he’s scared to let people in. I’m probably too invasive for him” you ramble on.

“Did you even hear what I said?” you ask after the silence stretches too long, but the only things replying to your question are your best friend’s snores.

You sigh, then continue going to your kitchen.

It takes a while for you to find the medicine, and when you do, you hear your front door being opened.

With your mind still hazy, you recognise Katsuki’s figure.

“Hi” you tell him.

“Hello? God, you reek. You’re becoming a rat more and more each day” he roughly says while getting his coat off and on the hanger.

“How was work?” you continue, ignoring his comment.

He looks you up and down. He thinks you look kinda cute with your cheeks tinted pink and your hair ruffled, but he’s really tired. “Good, mind your fucking business though. I’m gonna sleep”.

You look hurt for a second, then relax your features. He always answers this way.

You take a good look at him. The light that enters from the window behind your couch makes his face barely visible; with the moonlight as your only aid, you take a moment longer than usual to just stare at him. Broad, blonde, big shoulders, a light scowl on his face, red eyes that seem to follow your every move. Maybe, in his next life, he could be a hero.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re, like, really pretty?” you stumble out.

He looks at you like you’ve just said the dumbest thing ever.

“What the fuck are you saying? Just let me go to sleep and go do whatever the fuck you were doing before”.

“I said you look really fucking hot, Katsuki” you repeat, kind of annoyed. “It’s not like I asked you to cut your hand and offer your blood for a sacrifice, fuck. Why do you have to be so rude?” you spit out.

He’s surprised. “That’s not the words you used the first time. Pretty and hot don’t mean the same thing” he says, faking that he hasn’t heard your outburst, while stepping closer to you.

“Whatever” you mumble.

He stops in front of you. Maybe he’s been kind of rude lately because the situation at work hasn’t been the best. He fired Camie because he repeatedly heard she wasn’t capable of doing anything good on top of being mean to her colleagues, but finding another manager was stressing him out. He wanted to fire her as soon as he came to know her behaviour the first time, but Kirishima said neither of them had enough time to deal with her father. As much as this infuriated him, he was right. They were in their last year, and university wasn’t gonna finish itself.

You’re looking up at him with a scowl. “Let’s both go to sleep, m’kay? You don’t know what you’re saying” he says, nicer than any other time he talked to you. In the back of your mind, you notice he isn’t cursing anymore.

You keep on mumbling something and almost trip on your feet trying to get to your room.

You’re about to fall when he picks you up bridal style and goes to get you in your room himself.

Just before you fall asleep in his arms (how strong is he? He’s not even straining) you put your head on his shoulder.

“Thanks, sorry, I’m really drunk. I didn’t want to invade your privacy” you say.

He just shushes you up before telling you to sleep.

And just before you pass out, you notice he smells faintly like coffee.

#bakugo katuski #bakugou katsuki #bnha #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou fic #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #and they were roommates #barista au

[bbrissonn]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 - 𝐥𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

in which luke realizes he's fallen for his brother's best friend's little sister

warnings: not proofread

disclaimer: english is not my first language so excuse any mistakes. also, this is a work of fictions, this doesn't reflect how these boys act in real life :)

pairing: luke hughes x zegras!reader

wc: 2.06k

previous masterlist next

-LATE NOVEMBER ‘22-

Luke let out a soft grunt as his body hit his mattress, his energy drained from their two games on Friday and Saturday night, which they had both won. So, the seniors had decided a party was to take place on Sunday, from sun up to sun down, something the Hughes boys hated. 

He wasn’t a big partyer, sure he liked going out every once in a while, drink a little here and there, but big scene with a bunch of strangers, drunk strangers wasn’t somethign he enjoyed. He tried to find some positive to the day he just had, but he couldn’t find any. He hadn’t even drank half a beer, having to make sure his friends didn’t do anything that would get them in trouble. 

He was more than ready to call it a day and end to bed, he had successfully put all of his roommates to sleep, meaning there was nothing stopping him from falling asleep. He quickly changed into something more comfortable before hiding under his blanket, checking his phone one last time. Just as he was about to put his phone down, a notification came in. 

He groaned a bit before checking it, hoping it wasn’t one of the freshman asking him to come help them back to their dorms, or anything important really. Instead, he was meet with a text from you, a short and simple one. 

y/n/n

hey lulu, you seemed a bit stressed tonight and i didn’t want to bother you, hope duker wasn’t too much of a hassle to put to bed. just wanted to say you played amazing this weekend :) 

sleep well, you deserve it <3

The youngest Hughes couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face as his fingers moved across his phone screen, his index hovering over the send button, wondering if this was a good idea or not. 

lulu 

hi y/n/n, surprisingly duker was the easiest to put to bed, can’t say the same for eddy though… thank you, and i will especially after today. i know you have an early class tomorrow, but maybe we could get lunch after? on me

The boy didn’t understand why he felt nervous when he sent the text, the two of you get lunch together pretty much every single week, this wouldn’t be any different. So why was he feeling the way he was? 

y/n/n 

i’d love to! only if i get to pick the place though

lulu 

when have i not let you pick the place? 

y/n/n 

never because you’re a smart man :D

lulu 

exactly, night y/n/n

y/n/n 

night lulu, see you tomorrow xx

And there it was again, that weird little feeling in the pit of his stomach, one he had been feeling way too many times in past week whenever he’d talk to you. Luke truly didn’t understand what that feeling was, or why it appeared every time you were around or when you would text or call him, but he loved it. He was addicted to it. 

The same feeling came back the next morning as he saw you walking towards his car, talking with one of your friends that was in your class. A smile creeped it’s way onto his face as you bid your goodbyes to your friend before joining Luke in his car, sending him a wide smile. 

“Hey, Lu.” You said as you buckled up, the boy’s eyes never leaving your figure until your eyes met his. 

“Hi.” He whispered with a smile before snapping back to his normal self, turning the car on and driving off towards your favourite place to eat lunch in the area. It was a small little cafe, one you wouldn’t even know existed if it wasn’t for one of your friends working there. Said friend had brought back a leftover chicken wrap she had as dinner one night, and you grew obsessed with them. 

“You know me so well, Hughes.” You mumbled with a wide grin as he pulled into a parking spot, chuckling a bit at your expression. 

“It’s not like you pretty much force me to eat here every week.” The boy answered, his tone light and teasing making you roll your eyes with a smile. 

“Shut up.” You told him before getting out of the car and making your way into the place, Luke following closely behind you. 

A couple of minutes later, your food arrived, it wasn’t noon yet, meaning there was barely anyone inside, something you loved because it meant your food would arrive quicker. You then started telling Luke about what had happened in your life during the weekend, barely ever letting the boy speak, but he didn’t mind. The sound of your voice was something he loved, the way you would invest into your storytelling leaving him in awn. 

Once again, that feeling in the pit of his stomach came back as your laugh echoed in his ears, your beautiful smile staring at him as all your attention was focused on him, and him only. You were quite the talkative person, always finding a group of people at a party to talk the night away, much like your older brother, and Luke was total opposite, choosing to stay with his teammates at every party. So, whenever your full attention was on him, it made him feel so special. 

He was the only that mattered to you in this moment, your whole mind and spirit were only thinking about him. Just like you had his whole attention, you always did. Whenever the two of you were in the same room, you were all Luke could think about, always letting his eyes drift towards you, finding you easily even in a crowded room. 

“Luke? Luke, are you listening?” He heard your voice ask making him blink a couple of times. Your eyes were looking into his with such worry, he loved it. 

“Yeah, yeah, ‘m listening.” He answered, his voice low as he scratched the back of his neck, clearing his throat slightly. Thankfully, you didn’t ask anymore questions, instead continuing your story, Luke letting out a quick sigh when you did. He relaxed in his seat, paying full attention to what you were saying, realization settling into him. 

He was in deep shit. 

~

“What’s up with you?” Ethan asked later that night as all the sophomores were sitting in the couches in their living room, Luke quiet than he usually was. The question made the other three boys look over at the youngest one in the room, a slight red colour appearing on Luke’s cheeks. 

“Nothing.” He answered, trying his best to ignore the looks his best friends were giving him. 

“Bullshit.” Dylan called out, pausing the hockey game that was currently playing on their TV, none of them paying attention to it anymore. Luke bit his lips for a moment, debating wether he should tell them about his new found feelings for you, or stay quiet. Knowing his best friends, especially Duker, Trevor would find out in probably less than a week, so option two it was. 

“I don’t wanna talk ‘bout it.” He mumbled, Mackie rolling his eyes at his answer. 

“Boo hoo, whore. Tell us.” The boy said, making the other three chuckle slightly, but nodding their heads at the same time. 

“If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone.” Luke started, his friends laughing between them, only making the youngest one angry. “I am serious! You can’t tell another soul about this, or I will murder all of you.” 

“We won’t, chill.” Mark said, the others nodding along with him. Luke took a large sip of his beer, his roommates all watching him until he spoke again. 

“I think I am in love with Y/N/N.” The boy admitted out loud for the first time, and gosh did it feel weird. He was in love with his brother’s best friend’s little sister. He knew Jack probably wouldn’t have a problem with them dating, but Trevor, yeah that would be another story. 

“You just realized?” The other New Jersey pick laughed, the others boys doing the same. A tint of red grew on Luke’s cheeks again, this one darker and more noticeable than before. 

“I think you’re the last one to realize that, buddy.” 

“You just realized?” 

“It’s like the more obvious thing, Hughesy.” They all teased, not making the boy in question feel any better than he already did. He just put himself in the worst position possible, the memory of Trevor introducing you to him, clearly stating that you were off limits to the boy and to never get any ideas. Of course back then, Luke just shrugged it off, after all he was fourteen, the last thing he was thinking about was a relationship, but now, now it was totally different. 

He wanted you, needed you, to be his. He’d do anything for you, if it meant you could be his forever, something he had never felt before. He’s had a couple of girlfriends and flings in the past, but this was a new feeling, stronger than he’s ever felt before. But he could never tell you about this, never, it would ruin your friendship, Trevor would hate him, then Jack and Trevor’s friendship would be all messed up because of it, and it’d all be because of his. He couldn’t. 

“So, when are you gonna tell her?” Dylan asked from besides him, bring the boy out of his thought. Luke furred his brow slightly before answering the Duke boy. 

“Never. It’d ruin everything.” He explained, scoffs being heard in the living room. 

“Trust me, Lukey, if you were to call her right now and ask her on a date, she’d say yes. The girl’s like head over heels for you, it’s so obvious it hurts.” Mackie said, everyone else agreeing with him. 

“Z would kill me, than Jack’s gonna get pissed at me, too risky.” 

“God, you’re the biggest idiot out there.” Dylan mumbled before pressing play on the remote, the sound of the commentators being the only noise in the room. 

Luke didn’t pay attention to the rest of the game, his whole mind being focused on you. What were you doing at this moment? Were you thinking about him like he was thinking about you? Would you go on a date with him? Did you love him the same way he loved you? Or were you in the arms of another boy? Having a girls night with your friends, him being the last thing on his mind? He needed to know. 

The Hughes boy left the living right before the third period started, his finger hovering over your contact. He shouldn’t. But he did it anyways, the sound of the phone ringing soon echoing in his ear as he bit his nails nervously. Only for him to be met with the sound of your voicemail, crushing his spirit a little. He tried his best not to let it bother him, instead deciding to watch a show, when he received a text only a minute later. 

y/n/n

hi lulu, it’s sibling night, i’ll call you when we’re done facetiming :)) 

A sigh of relief left his mouth, monday nights were always siblings night, how he could he forget that. They started back when Trevor left for the NTDP, at first it would be you, Griffin and Ava all together, and then eventually you were all in different places over the country. You had made it very clear to Luke that no plans could ever be made on Monday nights because of it. 

The boy felt a lot more at ease now, relaxing in his bed as his show played. And the moment he heard his ringtone and your contact popping up on his phone, a wide smile grew on his face. He sat up in his bed, clearing his throat slightly before answering the call. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi, you. What’s up?” You asked, the sound of your voice only making the boy smile even more. 

“I just, uh… Do you wanna go on a date with me?” He asked starighforeward, bitting his lips after, scared of your answer. You stayed quiet for a while, making the boy even more nervous than he already was. 

“I’d love to, Lu.”

#bri writes #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes fic #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes blurb #lemon au

[prophet-rebellion]

Jolene's Emergency Vet Visit

Description posted from GoFundMe Campaign:

So for those of you who gave followed me (and maybe seen the update) you'll know Salem has been missing for almost 6 months.

She was my ESA, and given my declining mental health, I didn't have much choice but to get a new ESA.

Enter miss Jolene Macchiato L. Whom I adopted almost two months ago and have whole heartedly decided to keep after realizing just how well we mesh.

You may also know I've been in the hospital the last few days - staying with my roommate who was admitted. I've been coming home to feed the cats and (unsuccessfully) treat them for ear mites. My new roommate was dog sitting and he brought fleas and ear mites into our home.

During this time, Jolene went to the bathroom on my bed multiple times. I at first chalked it up to stress and was told to keep an eye on here. Less than a day of being back from the hospital and her stool is light in color, runny, and most terrifyingly, has blood in it.

This is no longer an issue of stress, but could be a major intestinal/stomach problem when mixed with her inability to wait and use her litterbox. On top of that, she was running around like she was in pain, or something was wrong prior to going.

My second job is not a sure thing yet - it has been more than two weeks since the company reached out to me - and I have been looking for more. The money I thought I won was more a scam to get me down to the car dealership (which by the way, I hated as is because of the older man behaving increasingly grossly and inappropriate towards me).

My funding for Salem has stopped at this point - I have done every physical thing I can to find and bring her home. And now I need to focus on the new feline in my care.

I am taking Jolene to the vet tomorrow and using my new credit card - but there are limited funds and paying it back is my current concern when I have payments taking up to the 1,000s combined due these next two months.

I am setting it to $550 for now (because they take a portion), but the price my change depending on what the vet says and what is wrong.

I know she still need to get treated for ear mites ($300 on it's own) because the current medications I've been using are not working."

This is my fundraiser.

Additional pictures of her adoption papers added on here as well proving when I got her. JOLENE IS A REGISTERED ESA NOW.

Jolene as far as I have been told is two years old, though she is very small for her age. She is a sweet heart though she was likely on the streets for a most of not all her life before she was taken to the shelter and I adopted her a month later.

She is a sweet cat that just wants to check and make sure that you're okay. She'll cuddle. She doesn't meow but she does trill and sound like yoshi.

She just wants to make friends with everyone. And if you're not petting her enough then the grabs your hand and brings it right to her face as she stands on her back legs.

This is the last fundraiser I'm making. Ask anyone I know in real life and they'll tell you just how much I despise asking for help. I want to be able to do things on my own. But until I get one bite from the hundreds (literally) of jobs I've applied to as a secondary then I'm at a loss. I can't afford to wait and save up for this vet Visit - not when her health is on the line.

I can post a picture of her at the vets office tomorrow as well to confirm, along with the update of what they set.

GoFundMe

PayPal

Venmo

Currently $750/$750

UPDATE - 08.02.2023

UNDER THE CUT

We went to the vet today.

TL:DR - she is on medications for the next two weeks, roughly. She did very good at the vet and was very brave. $500 was close, it will come out to be roughly $700 all together after ear mite treatment; we are holding off for now until the other cat in the house can be treated or they will just jump between them, which gives some more time to get there funds. But the over the counter medications are not strong enough to fight the infestation, and depending on severity, it could lead to long term health problems.

So I changed it from $550 -> $750 (again, because they take a processing fee). I also added in there roughly $200 that had been sent from PayPal and Venmo to give a more accurate show off current raised funds.

Below are screenshots of the update explaining more, along with pictures of Jolene at the vet today.

(Straight up, I almost cried because in the right two months that I have had her this was the first time she had crawled into my lap to lay down and cuddle with me.)

#my post #gofundme #cat #emergency #emergency vet visit #sick cat #esa

[spacexseven]

i understand the appeal of god!reader hurting fyodor mentally, like its something i look forward to reading but imagine him sobbing when you praise him even a little bit or show him the slightest affection, i want that proud man dependant on me 😁

don't worry, he already is

cw: yandere character, slight anime spoilers

spread out before you was the final blueprint to what would soon become something pivotal to fyodor's—and by extension, your—plans. you studied it closely, looking at each floor, each room, each balcony. you studied the layout carefully, and find that everything had been chosen with careful consideration, from the tiles to the wallpaper, even the tables and the lights.

fyodor wordlessly places sheets of papers into your waiting hand, without you even having to ask. apart from the soft greeting he entered your room with, no other sound has escaped him yet; a stark contrast to his usual visits. but today is no ordinary visit. he has come to seek your guidance, and awaits your decision.

you're genuinely impressed; this amount of detail and meticulous planning would have taken weeks, if not months to prepare, and it strikes you again that everything fyodor was doing now was full of determination and care, even if he was callous about the lives lost along the way, he would have done anything to ensure this goal of his comes true. you suppose your presence has only encouraged him to work harder.

after another round of inspection, you sort out the papers he just handed you, the last remaining sheets from the book that had been aquired for the doa's use, and begin to write down the existance of the sky casino. you describe everything about it in great detail, not missing out even a word in fear that something would go wrong otherwise. and as you wrote, you can feel a familiar power surge through you, and you can almost see the casino come to life.

when you're done, you hand all your tools back to him. his serious expression hasn't changed since he stepped foot inside your room, and suddenly, you're seized with a unfamiliar, melancholic sensation.

"you've done well," you fill the silence, "you have...surpassed my expectations of you. to be honest, i thought it was a foolish pursuit at first, a casino in the sky. but you have proved yourself to me with this. tomorrow we will go see the casino—together."

fyodor's eyes widen, and his lips twitch ever so slightly.

you let out a chuckle, "i have to say, this expression suits you as well."

he lowers his eyes immediately, the tips of his ears flushed red and his hands trembling, clenched tightly around the papers and pen.

"this humble servant of yours only wishes to please you, my lord. i am not deserving of your praise," he whispers, "i am not deserving of your attention."

words cannot describe the immense satisfaction you feel from hearing the wavering of his voice, relishing in the effect you have over him.

"go now," you're already tired of his presence, though this was much more bearable than the usual routine, "and make yourself useful."

he doesn't look mad, despite your rude dismissal. you think even if you were to strike him down and humiliate him, he would still not be upset or angry. but this position suits him best; not that of the evil mastermind he portrays himself to be.

no, only you know the real fyodor dostoevsky.

#yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bungo stray dogs #yandere bsd x reader #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bsd #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #yandere fyodor dostoevsky #yandere fyodor x reader #yandere fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor x reader #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor x you #god reader 🐟 #fyodor x god reader #ask 🐟 #anon 🐟 #bsd 🐟 #yandere x reader #fyodor 🐟

[scientia-rex]

I got home from work today sneezing my head off with a right eye that won’t stop watering, took a hot shower, climbed into bed, and I haven’t climbed out since. I’m grumpy and I have a headache and if I’m not testing positive for COVID or debilitated by symptoms tomorrow I’ll still need to go to work because that’s twenty patient visits that would need to be rescheduled, usually with someone else, and that’s twenty people I’m letting down. Today I did one of my patented 45-second Pap smears (if it takes longer than that, your doctor needs to get better!) for someone with vaginal atrophy from menopause (it is both very common and very treatable) and she was in disbelief. (This time it was more like 30 seconds.) I saw a suicidally depressed patient who’s clinging to life with both hands and I changed their meds last week and I am not making them wait to see me. I cleaned a wound no one else gave a shit about and I saw a bitter pissy Republican Party bigwig who has terrible anxiety and depression she doesn’t tell anyone about, who’s alienated everyone but who I can still convince to try treatment.

I do my job on hard mode on purpose. I like being important—who doesn’t? I like being legendary, I like that when people move to town and ask for doctor recommendations on Facebook so many people mention me that other patients feel compelled to tell me about it. I got nominated for best doctor in our local region last year. (I didn’t win, out of 5 nominees.) But when I’m sick, when I’m the kind of sick that can be hidden easily, the kind of sick I was always expected to go to school and rotations and residency with, it’s so hard. I hate exposing patients, even to a cold, but the benefits of receiving care are probably enough to outweigh the chance of transmission. I wrestle with myself: if I call in, it starts a ripple effect. Can they get a per diem from their “pool” (of three) to come in? Can they reschedule my patients with me? I don’t have any open spots for five weeks. Can they open same days? None available for three weeks. Can they open blocked spots? That’s going to make my life hell when I come back from being sick. That’s clinic staff calling twenty patients, trying to reach them. That’s twenty patients who feel abandoned. They can know intellectually that doctors get sick too, but they don’t believe it. They take it personally. I have seen this over and over again, until I had to believe it.

It is so EASY for people who don’t do this job to tell me how I’m doing it wrong. “Just stay home!” Oh, okay, you want to tell the person whose chronic opioids I’m supposed to write for that I can’t? You want to put the nurses through getting the on-call to write a bridge prescription? I write more ADHD meds than most of my peers—usually a lot more. You want to tell my colleagues to write meds they’re uncomfortable with? How about tell my suicidal patients (which is a lot of them!) that the provider they know and trust after months or years will be replaced today by a 70-year-old white man who still thinks they should pull themselves up by their bootstraps? Tell my queer patients that they have to wait until I’m better and back to get their hormones and their STI screenings, reschedule a Pap someone was dreading. Every day is a kaleidoscope of opportunities to make a real connection with “difficult” patients. I’m good at it. I may be the best at it at my clinic.

I don’t hate calling in sick just because the clinic manager is a judgy bitch, though that doesn’t help. I hate it because of what it does to my patients. And it’s not simple. Pretending it is does all of us a disservice. I am not a widget. I am not easily replaceable. You can’t plug any of our per diems (all men, 2/3 white, 2/3 old, 1/3 a Bitcoin bro) into my place and call it an equivalent, and my schedule is already so packed that if I call in sick, patients will be guilt-tripping me about it for months. I’m not kidding. That happens every single time.

Christ alive, I wish it was true that doctors never got sick.

#the attending dr. kristophine

[moni-logues]

Kintsugi 4

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, non-idol!au, angst, smut, tiny bit of eventual fluff

Summary: In a fit of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement, you sign up to a baking class. Yoongi, in a bid to appease his demanding girlfriend, signs up, too. Determined to make him your friend, you end up with more than you ever imagined.

Word count: 8.1k

Content: none! there is no content lmaooo nah there is just none that needs to be warned for, I don't think, so enjoy freely!!!!!

A/N: I know, I know, it's taken an age but here we are!! And I'm honestly kind of nervous to see how people react!!!! huge thank you to my betas @blog-name-idk @amethystwritesbts and @here2bbtstrash

Chapter Three | Masterlist | Chapter Five

Chapter Four – Someone Old, Someone New 

The message came in shortly after lunch. 

Mei.97: hey girl! Long time no see!!! I’m going to be in Seoul this week, pleeeeaaasse tell me you’re free for dinner tomorrow?!!? It’s been too long!!! Xxx 

You had to read the message twice to be sure you were reading it right. You hadn’t heard from Mei—an old university friend—since your first ‘breakdown’. You wondered what on earth she could want. But you weren’t in any position to be turning down an outreached hand. 

You: sure! It would be great to see you! 

A few months ago, that would have been a huge lie. Now, it was only a little one. You weren’t looking forward to having to smooth over the details of your breakdown, or your break-up, but you had been close as students and it would be easier with her—she moved back to Busan after graduating, so you could put a little bit of the blame for your losing contact on that, too. You knew you weren’t quite there yet, but you felt like you were healing, you were making progress; you sometimes even felt, on occasion, pretty good about life. And you wanted to share that.  

The first thing you heard upon walking into the bar you had suggested was the loud screech of your name. Then Mei was running over. You had barely even noticed her before she was wrapping her long arms around you in a huge hug. Her hair was as long and silky as it had ever been; she was still wearing the same perfume she always used to wear, and too much of it, as she always had; she looked almost exactly the same, except a little richer, a little chicer, like someone who had truly settled into themselves. She outshone the whole restaurant and looked as if she didn’t notice, as she always used to. The real world didn’t seem to have dimmed any of her at all. You were pleased with yourself that this didn’t make you completely sick with envy. 

“Girl, oh my god, it is so good to see you! You look amazing! I can’t believe it; you’ve barely changed! Love the hair, though,” she announced to basically the whole bar. 

You’d forgotten that she was possibly the only person in the world who was louder and talked more than you did. You’d forgotten how much you liked her. You had no need to be nervous, you realised, because it would never occur to her to judge someone; she just wasn’t that sort of person because she wouldn’t even have the time for it. She was more than just a rolling stone: this rolling stone had an engine and jet fuel. 

“I ordered a bottle of wine because I wasn’t sure if you were still into the same drinks and I figured, wine is a safe option, right? You want some?” she asked but she was already pouring into your glass. “Tell me everything, babe. It has been so long. What is up?” 

You took a deep breath. Where to start? 

* 

You marvelled at how painless the night had been. It was fun. Somehow, despite all the discussion you’d had about your life since university, your life now, it wasn’t painful. Not really. Mei was single, too, and courting every man in Busan before her parents tightened the screws on her to settle down. She was enjoying working for the family business (if a corporation can be called merely a ‘business’). She was earning a salary that made you wince and made her promise dinner was on her. You were doing reasonably well in your career, too, actually. You were earning enough to live in Seoul on your own. Things weren’t perfect, but Mei was such a positive and enthusiastic steam-roller that she made you feel like you were thriving, not wilting. She was exactly what you needed.  

You were just wishing that she didn’t have to leave Seoul, that she could move and stay forever when she took her ice-cream spoon from her mouth and looked sheepishly at her empty bowl. 

“I have a confession to make,” she began. “I had a teeny ulterior motive for asking you to dinner.” 

Your stomach lurched. 

“Oh?” 

“You remember my cousin Sungbin? He came to visit that time at uni?” 

“The one we had to carry back to your room?” 

“You mean the one we had to find someone else to carry back to my room?” 

“Yes!” You laughed. “Yes, I remember! How could I forget?” 

He was a sweet, tall drink of water who accepted every shot and drink foisted on him by his cousin and her friends until he passed out in the bar. You and Mei had dragged him through the streets of Hongdae asking every passerby if they could help you get him home. You didn’t remember who actually helped or much of the rest of the night, but that arduous 100-meter drag was almost as painful as your hangover had been the following day. 

“What about him?” 

“Ok, so my uncle is retiring, right? He’s still going to be on the board but he’s retiring from his actual position so, of course, Sungbin, oldest son, he’s got to step up. He's moving to the big city, girl! Taking up a position at the HQ here. My ulterior motive is me asking you a huge favour.” 

“What’s the favour?” 

“He doesn’t know anyone here, right? Never lived here before. Would you maybe like, take him out for drinks or lunch or something – super casual, no big deal! – just so he’s got a friendly face? Give him some recommendations for stuff, I don’t know, just so he doesn’t feel overwhelmed and on his own?” 

You didn’t really know how to feel about it. Of course, you would. Of course, you would be happy to take Sungbin out, show him around, help him if he needed. You felt flattered that Mei would even ask you, that she thought you would be up to the job. That she thought of you at all, to be honest. Had you not just been thinking that you needed new friends? And now one was landing straight in your lap.  

It all felt a little too good to be true. It was too easy. Things had been too easy recently; this was just too much good, surely? You weren’t used to this. It felt wrong. Made you anxious. And, usually, that anxiety made you make things worse all on your own. But your therapist had told you to stop looking for the bad, to trust the good, appreciate its presence. You could do that. Right? You could do that. 

“Yeah, sure! Of course, I can take him out.” 

Mei dramatically fell to the table in relief and held tight to both your arms. 

“You are an angel! Thank you! Here’s the bad part, though: any chance you can do it tomorrow? I’m leaving in the morning and he’s going to be on his own for the first time since moving-” 

“Oh, he’s already here?” 

“Yeah! That’s why I’m here, girly! I helped him move! Any chance you’re free tomorrow?” 

You didn’t know how to say yes without letting her know that you were the sort of person who had no plans at the weekend but you didn’t want to say no because you were the sort of person who had no plans, and it would be nice to get out of the apartment. You did not look into the fact that she was asking you this last-minute, assuming you would have no plans already. You shrugged. 

“Yeah, I can do drinks or something tomorrow night?” 

“Babe, you are my favourite person in this whole world. I’m going to give you his number; just text him. He doesn’t know anyone here so he literally has nothing better to do and I’ve already told him I’d put you guys in touch.” 

From anyone else, that might have prickled a little; the assumptions might have rubbed you the wrong way, but Mei was relentlessly optimistic, having never had any real hardship in her life (she would admit to this, too), so she had never had any reason to believe that things wouldn’t go the way she expected. Far from wanting to burst her bubble, you wanted to protect her naivety. Because you wished you could have it, too.  

As you walked and subwayed and walked home, you thought about Mei and her life, and your life, and how different things could be. You wondered who you would be if you weren’t so broken, if your head could just have got its shit together—rather, if your head had never gone to shit in the first place. Would you have been like Mei? Would life have found another way to break you? Were things destined or was everyone, including the universe, just making things up as they went along?  

Could you ever be like Mei? Was anyone like her? Did she have secret pain?  

It wasn’t lost on you, the possibility that she wasn’t as happy-go-lucky as she seemed. The shock and surprise of everyone you knew when you ended up in hospital was almost the worst part. If you never heard someone say ‘I had no idea!’ again, it would be too soon. You thought about it a lot, how normal you were (or weren’t). You couldn’t believe that everyone else went through life not thinking the things you thought, that everyone else was somehow just able to get on with things without the sometimes-debilitating urge to sink into the floor forever. 

You shook your head, because you knew you weren’t supposed to be thinking like this. You’d had a really fun time with an old friend and you were going to have a really fun time tomorrow with a new friend. That was all. There was no need to ruin it by overthinking and second-guessing.  

You tapped a finger nervously on the bar as you sat on your stool. You used to come here a lot, or at least semi-frequently, but you hadn’t ventured into this part of the city since you moved out of the apartment you had shared with your ex. He got the apartment, so he got the neighbourhood, too.  

You couldn’t really miss it, not on its own, because your life had changed dramatically after the break-up: you moved somewhere else, lost most of your friends, and stopped going out. This was really the only ‘out’ that you knew. And, crucially, it was close enough to Sungbin to become his neighbourhood, too. So here you were, tapping at the bar, staring at the door, trying not to gulp your drink and be drunk before he even arrived.  

It was bright and hot and humid. It had rained solidly for three days and the water still hung in the air, clung to your skin, even as the sun tried its best to burn it away. You pressed your palm against your cold glass and tried to will yourself cooler without success. You already felt sticky with sweat and you didn’t know if that was entirely down to the weather, or if your nerves were also to blame.  

You knew you didn’t have to be so nervous. What was the worst that could happen? Taehyung had, very patiently, talked you through it: all possible outcomes, all likely scenarios, best- and worst-case situations; he had reminded you that you were an adult human being who knew how to speak to other people. You did. You did know. But it had been a very long time since you had been in this situation. It wasn’t a date. Obviously, it wasn’t a date, but it was the closest you had got to one for many years; you were meeting a man, in a bar, alone. You didn’t know each other; you were hoping he would like you.  

You took another gulp of your drink and repeated Taehyung’s words back to yourself. You reminded yourself of how good things were, ran through your gratitude list, tried to persuade yourself not to psych yourself out before the date (it was not a date! NOT. A. DATE.) had even begun. 

You had turned from the door, realising how awkward it might be for you to have to stare at each other as he walked towards you and were now just glancing over your shoulder every single time you heard the door open. To stop it being awkward. You had done well to pace yourself and it was as you lifted your glass to your lips for another sip that you heard someone call your name. You turned and came face to face with a man you knew could not be Sungbin. 

“Hi,” he said somewhat awkwardly as you continued to drink. “I don’t know if you remember me but I’m Mei’s cousin, Sungbin.” 

You gasped as you drank and it all came out in a choke and a splutter and you were blushing and fumbling to put your glass down, find a napkin, rewind time by ten seconds. The napkin came from his hand and you took your time drying your face and hands to try to will your blushes away. You were so embarrassed you could barely look at him.  

And there was so much of him to look at. This was not tiny, tall drink of water Sungbin from your university days. He was huge. He must have grown at least six inches taller, not to mention wider. His biceps were the size of thighs and his thighs were almost bursting out of his skinny jeans. You didn’t know where to look. 

“You can’t be Sungbin!” you cried. “You’ve got to be the guy that ate him!” 

He laughed and tugged at his hair a little self-consciously. 

“Yeah, I guess I’ve grown a bit.” 

“A bit!  You’re... You’re a hulk!”  

You were off your stool and gripping his bicep before he’d even finished the sentence—your fingertips didn’t even come close to touching. You were gawking, gaping, ogling this poor man without an attempt to hide it. You gestured broadly to his entire body with your other hand and only when you looked back up did you notice the blush on his face, the awkward way he averted his gaze. You stood back and gasped again, this time without choking. 

“I’m so sorry,” you told him. “Oh my god, that was so rude of me. I’m so sorry! What a dickhead! This is a terrible first impression for me to be making!” 

“Technically, not a first impression; we have met before.” He chuckled awkwardly. “And I didn’t exactly cover myself in glory then; I was, uh, a little worse for wear, I think.” 

“A little?! We were worse for wear; you were... the worst for wear! I’m amazed you survived.” 

“The joys of youth. Not sure I’d survive doing it now, just in case you had any ideas.” 

“Mei and I could barely get you home then, there is no way on God’s green earth I’d be able to carry you home by myself now! I wouldn’t risk it.” 

“So, we’re agreed then: both getting home in one piece?” 

You lifted your glass. 

“I’ll drink to that!”  

*  

You moved from one bar to the next, almost retracing steps you used to take in what felt like your former life. Sungbin paid great attention to where you were going and what else was around, cataloguing his new area, making notes for his new life. Your nerves were long gone, as were his, and you were enjoying a night out with a relative stranger as if you were a real person who did things like this: a real person who made new friends, who went out at the weekend, who had a proper life again. You had to pinch yourself to make sure this was all really happening, that this was all really going well. Your problems felt miles away, lightyears. You wondered if this is what it felt like to be normal. Whole. Fixed. You made a mental note to tell your therapist. 

You were on a roof terrace, carpeted with fake grass, decorated with fake flowers. Everything was clean and bright and the sun was still high in the summer sky. It was still a little too warm and a little too sticky, your glasses sweating as well as your bodies, but the lightest of breezes lifted the ends of your hair every now and then, and you couldn’t have imagined a more comfortable feeling than the soft rush of wind across your hot skin. You took seats under a white, wooden pergola where the sunlight was dappled through the fronds twisted along the frame.  

This heat usually enervated you, made you lethargic and sloth-like. That night, though, sitting under fake foliage, you felt solar-powered. There was a summer spring in your step. You felt, dare you believe it, like you were glowing. Like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. A brand new thing. A better thing. Being here, an old place, with Sungbin, a new friend, could have felt awkward, uncomfortable, like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole—you had expected it to—but no. You felt bigger and brighter, not smaller and duller. You were conscious of the possibility of your old life encroaching on your new one, the possibility of running into someone you used to know, but you decided to push those thoughts away. Compartmentalise them. Ignore them. You didn’t need them.  

Sungbin was talking about his ex. It was an awkward break-up; they’d not been together long enough for her to move to Seoul with him, or for him to even ask her to, but it had been long enough that it felt significant, felt like throwing something away when they ended things. But he was young and he wasn’t worried. You didn’t say it out loud but you thought to yourself that a man like him surely would never have to worry: looking like he did, having the position he had, being a sweet, polite kind of guy; women would be queueing up for even a chance with him.  

“I don’t really miss her that much, because there’s so much going on here that I haven’t really even had the time to. That, if nothing else, tells me it was the right decision for us.” 

The words reached your ears but didn’t go in. You could feel your heart pounding hard in your chest and sweat begin to prick in your palms. Your eyes had flicked over the crowd in front of you, people walking in and out, to and from the bar, looking for tables, looking for friends. They had skimmed over the faces of strangers until they hit upon someone familiar. The face had immediately disappeared back into the crowd, but you were sure it was him. It had to be. Why else would your whole body have gone into panic mode? Why else would your legs be like jelly? Why else would your fingers feel numb? A quiet ringing grew louder in your ears and you kept looking for him again, waiting for that dark head above a white shirt to break through the crowd again. You had to be sure it was him. 

“Are you ok?” 

You wanted to stand. You had to stand and get a better view. You wished it weren’t so busy. Why did it have to be a Saturday night? Why were all these people out?  

“Are you ok?” 

A touch on your arm drew you back and your head span to Sungbin. He looked confused, concerned. 

“I think I saw my ex,” you told him, your voice hoarse.  

“Ah. A bad break-up?” 

Your eyes had already gone back to the crowd, scanning and searching.  

FUCK. 

It was him. It really was him. It had to be. It couldn’t be.  

“Yeah, no, I don’t know,” you answered vaguely. 

You were still staring at him and then his eyes flicked to yours and you flinched so hard you almost knocked over your glass. You turned away, turned back; he looked as surprised as you were. He looked unsure. He looked like he was walking over to you. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” you said under your breath, looking at the table, trying to work out how on earth you were going to handle this. You wondered, if you thought hard enough, if you would be able to make yourself disappear. You wondered if you could just run: leg it out of the bar as fast as you could and not look back. You felt dizzy. You felt sick. You felt... drunk. Too drunk. Of all the places and all the times you might have imagined seeing him again, this wasn’t one. This would probably be the very last place you’d have chosen to run into him.  

Sungbin’s hand was back on your arm, less tentative now. He scooted his chair closer to yours. His hand slid down your wrist and he tangled his fingers in yours. You could only look at him; you didn’t have the mental capacity to even form the question in your mind. 

“Don’t worry,” came his reply. “I got you.”  

Then he winked.  

“Hi.” 

You looked up and there he was. San. Just as he always had been. Maybe his hair was a little shorter, you could kid yourself there was an extra line or two on his face. But it was him, no denying. 

“Hi,” you squeaked back. 

You were trying to think of all the things you wanted to say to him, trying to think of all the things you could say to him, that would be appropriate to say to him here, in this bar, whilst holding the hand of another man. 

“Hi, I’m Sungbin.”  

He was confident. He stuck out his free hand and gave San a generous smile. 

“Oh, uh, San.” 

“Nice to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you, too.” San turned his face back to you. “How have you been?” 

You looked at Sungbin for help: this relative stranger, this potential new friend pretending to be your new boyfriend in front of your old boyfriend, this man who seemed to have much better control of this situation than you did. You could barely think at all. It was a desperate ringing, alarm bells, sirens wailing, a maelstrom of panic. Sungbin smiled at you. You had no idea how long you looked at him before answering, had no sense of time anymore. 

“Yeah, fine,” you said, eventually tearing your gaze from Sungbin to stare into San and the sun behind him. Sungbin gave your hand a squeeze. “Good, actually. You?” 

“Yeah, same old same old, you know how things are. Didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“Oh, that’s my fault.” Sungbin stepping in to save you again. “I live in the area so I’m always dragging her over this way.”  

You stammered for a second, trying to take in San’s surprise and Sungbin’s sweet, encouraging smile. 

“Y-yeah, he does,” you confirmed. “I don’t- I don’t mind, though, really.” 

“Mm, you always liked this bar. I remember.”  

“Yeah.” 

You noticed the way San’s eyes flicked to your hands, clasped together on the table, not just once but again and again. You wished you could peer inside his head, know what he was thinking.  

You were hardly thinking at all. Your brain was trying so hard to be quick that it had overloaded itself, stalled, got stuck. You couldn’t get over the fact of him, there, in front of you. It had been months. Seasons had changed since you saw him last. You had changed. Could he see that? Did you want him to? Did you want him to miss you? Did you want him to be bothered by Sungbin—gentle giant, Sungbin, holding your hand so casually, talking about you as if you really were together? You tried not to imagine what San was doing there, who he was with. You didn’t know if you would care. You wouldn’t be surprised to learn he was dating. He was a catch, you knew that.  

There were too many things happening at once, too many things to process. You felt like you were spinning out of control. What if San knew Sungbin wasn’t your boyfriend? What if he knew this was all pretend? What if he asked more about it? What if everything unravelled before your very eyes and the ground didn’t show mercy and swallow you whole? 

“Are you still living around here?” San asked you. “I would’ve expected to see you around more.” 

“Oh, uh, no. I’m over the river. I just-…"  

You couldn’t commit yourself to the lie, had to let yourself trail off just looking at Sungbin, desperate for a sign you were doing ok, you were playing this the right way. He grinned at you. 

“Like I said, my fault.”  

He shrugged with a light chuckle and San faintly followed suit, mouth moving but no sound actually coming out. 

“Right, well,” he began in the tell-tale way that said he was backing out of this conversation. “I’d better get back to my table. It was uh, nice meeting you, Sungbin. Good to see you, too-” his eyes rested on you, needled into you like he was searching for something specific in your face. “I’m glad you’re doing well.” 

“Yeah, me too. I mean, me for you, you know what I mean.” 

A genuine smile. And a nod. Then he was retreating back into the sea of people, disappearing and leaving no trace. No trace but the hammering of your heart. No trace but the sweat pooling in your palms and sticking your dress to your back. No trace but the sudden exhaustion of the relief you felt being out of his presence. Sungbin squeezed your hand again. 

“Bad break-up?” 

You rested your forehead on the fingers of your free hand and shook your head. 

“It was for me. It was the right decision but yeah, it was bad for me. I haven’t... I haven’t seen him since I moved the last of my shit out from our apartment – what used to be our apartment.” 

Sungbin nodded knowingly and placed his hand on top of yours just for a second. Then he let you go completely. 

“I’m sorry if I overstepped. I realise I didn’t really give you a chance to disagree; I’m sorry about that. I-” 

You shook your head and waved your hand.  

“It’s absolutely fine,” you reassured him. “It was good, actually.”  

You were deeply grateful for his quick-thinking, presumptuous though it may have been. You wanted to splash your face with cold water, give yourself a shock, try to bring yourself back into the room. You didn’t want to look like you were still completely hung up on your ex; you didn’t want to look like a mess; you just needed a second to take a breath. 

“That was... not expected,” you went on, more for your benefit than for his. “I have thought so many times about what I would say and what I would do if I saw him again but I guess I never really believed it would happen and then suddenly, he was fucking right in front of me and I just felt like dying!” 

Sungbin laughed, as you knew he would, because it was a joke. It was a joke. But you didn’t not feel like dying for at least a second there.  

“When did you break up?” 

“Oh, months ago now. Kind of feels like I should be over it, I guess. I mean, I am, really. I just-...” 

“You were caught off-guard. I get it; it’s rough seeing them again.”  

It was rough. And you believed that he did get it. And he smiled at you so sincerely that you could have cried. It surprised you, that people could be nice to you; that people could like you, even; that people could see you and still smile at you. You looked at each other a little longer, Sungbin’s quiet calm radiating through you, your heartrate slowing and your spinning head coming to a stop. 

“Thank you,” you said as you picked up your glass to take a sip to cover awkwardness that only you felt. “That was quick thinking and um, yeah, I think it helped. You didn’t have to do that.” 

Sungbin shrugged.  

“You’re doing me a big favour tonight; it was the least I could do. Happy to be your fake boyfriend whenever you need!”  

He laughed and then you laughed and it felt good. You drained the last of your drink and Sungbin suggested you go somewhere else for your next one. You agreed. You didn’t look for San on your way out, just kept your eyes on Sungbin’s back as he led you, your hand in his (just in case), back through the bar and out onto the street. 

* 

“You don’t have to literally walk me to my door,” Sungbin said as you stepped into the lift with him. “I maintain that it should be me walking you home.” 

You shrugged. 

“That argument might hold water if you had even half a clue of how to get to my apartment. But you don’t. Besides, I was taking you out tonight; it only follows that I walk you back, too. Why break tradition?” 

Sungbin bit back a grin. 

“How long before I live that down?” 

“Oh, at least five more years.” 

“Well, if you’re going to make me suffer that, don’t you think we should do this correctly? Now, how did it go again?” 

He moved behind you and draped himself over your shoulders, slowly leaning his weight onto you. You cried out and could do nothing but collapse underneath him. 

“NO! I couldn’t carry you then; now you’re just trying to kill me!” 

You knelt on the floor of the lift with your hands outstretched above you, as if they would in any way hold him off. He straightened and pulled you up by them. 

“Fine,” he conceded as he stepped out at his floor. “But next time, you’re going to have to let me walk you home. Deal?” 

You shrugged. You nodded. You didn’t take that as a promise.  

“About your ex,” Sungbin started, standing in front of his door. 

“Yeah?” 

“Where exactly are you at with that?” 

That had you on the backfoot. You didn’t know how to answer the question for yourself, let alone for him. Your first thought was that you probably would have to ask your therapist; did she think you were over it? Would she think you had closure? You blinked and opened your mouth as if somehow an answer would fall out of it without your having to compile it first.  

“I just mean,” he continued, “are you dating? Would it be alright if I asked you out?” 

“Oh, uh, I-”  

Would it be alright? Wouldn’t it be? You had told yourself you were off dating. You weren’t ready for it; you had been emphatic when you’d said as much to Yoongi only a few weeks ago. Was that still true? You had spent so much time that day reminding yourself that this wasn’t a date, but... what if it had been? San aside, it had gone well, hadn’t it? You had had fun; Sungbin seemed like he had, too. He was the one who pretended to be your boyfriend first. Maybe... Maybe it would be ok? Maybe you were ready? There was only one way to really find out.  

“Yeah, I guess that would be fine.” 

He smiled. 

“Good. I’ll do that then.”  

He took your hand in his and pressed a kiss to your knuckles; everything inside you fluttered. Then he winked and dropped your hand to enter his door code. 

“Text me when you get home safe, yeah?”  

You nodded, mute. He smiled at you again. 

“It was really nice to see you again.” And when he said your name, it sounded new.  

You didn’t leave immediately. Couldn’t. You stood outside his apartment, in shock, processing, looking at his closed front door, to the left, to the right, looking for an answer to what just happened. Sungbin did not just ask you out. But he did say he would. He was going to ask you out.  

And you had already kind of said yes.  

To a date. 

You fumbled in your bag for your phone and had it to your ear before you realised you absolutely had to leave, lest Sungbin hear you speaking. You scuttled back down the hallway and into the lift while Taehyung’s phone rang and rang and eventually went to voicemail. You hung up and tried again. And then again. And then you sent him a text. 

You: TEDDY!!! PICK UPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

You tried calling for a fourth time and for a fourth time, you heard the automated voice of his voicemail service.  

You threw your phone back into your bag, defeated, but jittery with nerves and adrenaline. You could barely remember how this felt. In fact, with San you had seen it coming. You had engineered it. You had been flirting for weeks; you practically demanded he ask you out. Then he did. This had come out of the blue. Blindsided you. For the second time that evening. You were so shocked by Sungbin’s question that you had, momentarily, forgotten about running into San.  

What a fucking night. One that you had almost no idea how or where to start processing. Everything was-… you threw your hands in the air, by yourself, in the lift, shaking your head, completely bewildered. Taehyung was your go-to person for this. He was your sounding board. You picked up your phone to call him just one more time.  

* 

Your phone rang as you were changing into your pyjamas and you picked it up with your vest only half pulled down over your chest. 

“Teddy! Finally!” 

“Are you dying?” 

“No.” 

“Are you hurt or injured or maimed in any way?” 

“No.” 

“Then stop calling!” 

“Hey! I need to talk to you!” 

“Well, it’s going to have to wait, princess; I’m busy.” 

“Not even for five minutes?” 

“No.” 

“But I saw San!” 

There was a pause as Taehyung digested the information. 

“Are you ok?” he asked simply. 

“Yeah.” 

“Then it’s going to have to wait until tomorrow.” 

You heard a rustling in the background, another voice. 

“Oh my god,” you gasped, turning your voice down to a loud stage whisper. “Are you with someone?” 

“... Yes.” 

“OH MY GOD! Oh my god, please tell me it’s the barista. Is it the barista? It is, right?!” 

“... Yes.” 

You squealed and fell onto your sofa to kick your feet in the air. 

“WE HAVE SO MUCH TO TALK ABOUT!” you screamed down the phone. 

“Yes, but tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, fine, tomorrow. Oh my god. I am SO excited, Teddybear.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ll talk to you later. I’m going now.” 

“Bye, Teddy!” 

“Good night, babe; love you.” 

“Love you!” 

It was entirely possible that you weren’t going to be able to sleep at all now.  

You squealed as you opened your door and let Taehyung into your apartment. He handed over an ice-cold, sweating cup of coffee and flopped onto your sofa.  

“Tell me literally everything,” you demanded. 

He merely shrugged. 

“Don’t be fucking coy, you piece of shit! I want to know everything! It’s THE BARISTA.” 

The barista worked at a coffee shop not far from Taehyung’s apartment. The barista was a fine, delicate-boned, ethereal beauty, probably the prettiest person you had ever seen in real life. Even Taehyung—unflappable, cool, calm and collected Taehyung—had been flustered the first time the barista had flashed him his pearly whites. And, last night, something had finally happened between them.  

“There’s really not that much to tell,” Taehyung countered. “I asked him out and he said yes.” 

You hit him hard with a cushion. 

“I said I want to know everything! And you can’t just say it like it was that simple; you’ve been daydreaming about that guy for months!” 

“Firstly, I was sussing out his situation. I understand tact and diplomacy and how to not say every stupid thing that’s in my head at any given moment-” 

“Uncalled for, but go on.” 

“-So I had to bide my time.-” 

“Also, you’re a massive chicken and he made you go knock-kneed and goo-goo-eyed.” 

“-Do you want me to tell you what happened? Or would you prefer to just make up your own version?” 

You cackled. 

“You know I’d love to make up my own story, but no, sorry, I’ll stop interrup-” 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, babygir-” 

“Ok, now who’s interrupting?!” 

“I’m the one trying to tell you a story!” 

“Ok! Ok! Fine, spin your yarn and give me the entire confection, please.” 

* 

“I’m seeing him again tonight. Truth be told, I’d be with him right now if someone hadn’t already laid claim to my time.” 

“Teddy!”  

You felt bad for tearing him away from his One True Love, you did. But he’d already seen his success with the barista (Hyunjin to those in the know) and could go running right back to him as soon as he was done here. All you had was a too-warm apartment to stew in until whatever hour or day Sungbin would choose to actually, officially do the asking.  

“Come on, then,” Taehyung said, with a shrug, and nudged you with his foot. “How the fuck did you see San again?” 

Shit, that too.  

“Right, well, you know I was out with Sungbin last night—and, by the way, do NOT let me forget to show you his instagram. Oh my god. There are no words. And there’s also something else I need to tell you about him after this. But, yes, San, ok.” 

It felt like trying to describe a blur. You still didn’t know how you felt about it. The whole night felt surreal to you now, like a dream. It was frustrating to have met him but not really met him, to have seen him and not been able to talk. Everything that you had been working through—trying to work through—felt bundled up inside you and you wanted him to know. You didn’t need him to think you were dating again, you didn’t need to ‘win’; you needed him to know that you understood. That maybe there would always be some kind of thing between you—history, old intimacies like ink stains in your skin—but it didn’t mean that that past would hold you back forever. You wanted him to see that you understood that. 

But you came to those conclusions this morning, after a deep sleep, after another man had made implicit promises to ask you out. And, once he’d actually asked you, would anything you had to say to San matter anymore? Did it really matter now?  

“I don’t know how I feel about it because... I had this blind panic, y’know? But I don’t know why I panicked because San is a good person and I understand why he broke up with me and I don’t blame him for that and there really shouldn’t have been any reason for it to be awkward, right?” 

“I mean, another man pretending to be your boyfriend might make it a little awkward.” 

“Maybe... But that’s not Sungbin’s fault; he was trying to help. I thought I’d be cool seeing him again, because I’ve thought so much about things I want to say to him or would say if I could, but when he was actually in front of me, it was like I couldn’t think at all. I don’t know what that means.” 

“It doesn’t have to mean anything. You were surprised.” 

“Yeah, but shouldn’t I be over him? Should he have that effect on me even now?” 

“I don’t think ‘should’ is a helpful word here, sugarplum. There is no should or shouldn’t about feelings; isn’t that therapy 101?” 

“I just don’t know... I guess I thought that seeing him again would make everything crystal clear, written in stone. Sure. But... Well—ok, the other thing is that Sungbin kind of asked me out.” 

“On a date?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What did you say?” 

“Well, he asked me if it would be alright if he asked me out. And I said yes. So he said he would. But he hasn’t actually asked me yet.” 

“And you want to know if you should go out with him or not?” 

“I guess?”  

You shrugged. You wanted to go out with Sungbin. You knew you wanted to because you could picture his smiling face and bulging biceps and you saw clearly, outside of the moment, how quickly and easily he stepped in to support you, no questions asked and no favours owed. He wanted to date you. You knew you wanted to date him. But- 

“I don’t want it to be a mistake,” you said.  

“That’s natural. No one likes making mistakes.” 

“No, I mean, I don’t want it to be a mistake for Sungbin.” 

“Why would it be?” 

You looked at him, trying to say, without saying, what you meant. Because it had been for San—you had been. He was better off without you and maybe Sungbin would be, too. He was young and rich and free; he had just moved to the biggest city in the country; he had the world at his feet. Were you really going to let him limit himself, stop himself at your door?  

Taehyung looked cross for a moment, lips pursed and eyebrows drawn, then he took a sip of his coffee (mostly iced water at this point) and, when he turned back to you, his gaze was softer.  

“Baby,” he cooed and he held his arms out to you. Despite the heat in your poorly air-conditioned apartment, you climbed into his lap and let him stroke your hair. “There’s only one way to know for sure if something’s a mistake and that’s to do it. Sungbin clearly wants to. If you also want to, then you’re just going to have to dive in. The water’s great.” 

You nodded and let him hold you, so grateful to him and all his tact and diplomacy and gentleness. He wasn’t always—or often—gentle with you, because usually that’s not what you needed and he knew it. Just like he knew that today, that was what you needed. 

“I do have one question, though,” he said and his hesitance made your stomach drop. 

“Ok.” 

“Where does Yoongi fit in with all of this?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, I don’t know; I thought you guys were-” 

“-Friends! Just friends! Have I not said it a million times?! We’re just friends! We’ve always just been friends!” 

“But you did have sex-” 

“ONE TIME!” 

You pushed away from him to better display your indignation and displeasure. Taehyung had a bee in his bonnet about Yoongi—had done since you’d first mentioned him—even though he didn’t know the guy, didn’t know anything. 

“Ok, ok!” He held his hands up in defeat. “I just sort of figured you guys were heading in that direction.” 

“Why?” 

“You seem to like him a lot.” 

“I do. Because we’re friends. I like you a lot, too, and we’re not going to shack up.” 

“Yes, love, but I’m gay and you are not a man.” 

You pushed him. 

“You know what I mean!” 

“I take your point. If you want to date Sungbin and feel good about it, then you have my blessing-” 

“I don’t need your blessing, Teddy; I can do what I like!” 

He fixed his eyes on you and simply waited you out. 

“Ok, fine!” you cried, exasperated, after probably not more than five seconds. “Thank you, yes, I did want your approval.” 

“And you have it, my sweet. As long as you’re happy and not being a complete idiot, I’m on board.” 

“I mean... Thanks, I guess?” 

"Don’t mention it.” 

“Babe!” you cried as soon as Yoongi step foot inside the classroom the following Thursday. You beckoned him closer, telling him to hurry, and grabbed him by the arm as soon as he was within reach. “I have so much to tell you.” 

He looked surprised, blinked, and then shrugged with a slight nod of his head. You didn’t pause for thought as you unloaded both your bags and your gossip onto the counter. You were sieving flour as you told him about your dinner with Mei; beating eggs into the mixture when you told him about drinks with Sungbin; and watching Yoongi almost drop the entire thing as he placed it in the oven when you mentioned San. 

“What was that like?” he asked with genuine, but guarded, curiosity.  

“A blur. Kind of a panicked mess but also fine. I sort of want a do-over but mostly for my pride, y’know? It was bumping into an ex, not actually meeting up with them so I think that made it better. But also worse because I had no time to prepare but there was also no opportunity to get into the difficult stuff which meant we didn’t have to get into it.” 

“Do you still want to do that? Talk to him?” 

“There’s a lot I want to say to him, but they are things I want to say more than things I think he would need or want to hear. If we met, it would be for my benefit and I don’t know if he deserves to be pulled in for that. Do you know what I mean?” 

He looked thoughtful for a moment and nodded.  

“And that was before Sungbin asked me out, too, so maybe I would be saying something different if that hadn’t happened.” 

“He asked you out?” 

Yoongi was turning towards his counter, looking at his sugar in his pan, turning on the hob, his head inclined just slightly towards you to indicate that he was listening. He needlessly pushed a hand through his hair which, far from tucking it behind his ear, made it fall in front of his face. You were, likewise, distracted by your sugar syrup and altogether too excited to take note of much else. 

“Yes!” you cried in answer. “So, on the Saturday he asked if he could and, obviously, I said yes. Then it took him until Wednesday to actually do the damn thing, but yes, he asked me out and I said yes and we’re going out tomorrow for our first actual date.” 

“Wow.” 

“I know, right? I had no idea it was coming—the bit where he asked if he could ask me out, I mean. We ran into my ex at drinks! And he asked me out?! And I was... I was discombobulated, you might say; I stood at his door for five minutes just in shock at what had happened. I was in disbelief. Especially because I wasn’t expecting it! At all. I mean, I was just doing Mei a favour! I didn’t think anything of it and now I can’t stop thinking about it! Or, well, him. I had forgotten how exciting this part is? It’s terrifying, yeah, completely horrifying, really, but I also just feel like I’m alive, y’know?” 

You paused briefly, glancing at the oven timer and stirring your syrup.  

“I just...” you started and then stopped, staring off into space to let the thought coalesce in your brain. “It’s so crazy that you can think one thing and then someone comes into your life and, suddenly, everything is so different. All it takes is one person to—ok, this is dramatic but you know me now so you’re going to have to let me be—change your whole life. A chance encounter? And suddenly I’m not the world’s loneliest, bitterest, most miserable single person alive? Suddenly, I have something to be excited about? To look forward to? I’m getting ahead of myself, I know I am, but I’m allowing it. I’m allowed to indulge in this because it’s been so long. I’ve been miserable for ages now. And I’m finally not. Don’t get me wrong when I say this, because therapy works, or at least it helps, it really does, but man, having a crush on someone is fucking electric, right? Years of counselling and it turns out nothing makes you feel the joy of being alive like when you really fucking like someone.” 

Yoongi hummed. 

Chapter Three | Masterlist | Chapter Five

#yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi fic #bts fic #yoongi angst #bts angst #suga x reader

[saythenametotheworld]

Maybe If

Genre: exes baggage; angst; smut

Pairing: Mark Lee x Female Reader

Warning: angst, mentions of physical and emotional abuse, mentions of alcoholism, explicit sexual content (18+)

Notes: 21k words, song prompt was Maybe If by BIBI

Synopsis: An unprompted college reunion for a friend's wedding had you looking back on the most beautiful relationship you ever had with the most breathtaking boy you've ever known—Mark Lee.

"He'll be there for sure." You've lost count of the number of times Nadine said that today. "Will you be fine?" Even the question about your well-being has been engraved in your mind for days now because she's asked about it each time she remembers Mark Lee being present at your friend's wedding.

"You know, Nadine, it almost sounds like you're the one who dated Mark Lee," Stan commented, giving her a quick glance at the backseat. "Shut up about it already. I'm sure she knows Mark will be there."

"I'm just worried about her. I know it's been a while but what happened between them was intense, seeing how they chose to cut contacts completely instead of being friends. What if they end up fighting?"

"Mark won't fight y/n," Stan chuckled, glancing at you. "He never fights y/n."

You kept your eyes outside the car window, counting the minutes before you arrived at your hometown. You're not thinking about Mark Lee-not even about the messy state you left him in. You were thinking about the town you grew up in; everything you hated and loved about it, everyone you grew up knowing, and everyone you dreaded seeing. It was the one place you wished you never had to go back to, the one place that gave you so much to love and even more to hate.

When you left for better opportunities in a different place, you vowed you would never come back. There's nothing for you to go back to anyway, just a miserable old city where you lived a miserable life trying to deal with a miserable old couple. They even told you to never come back after draining you dry of the money that you spent half of your life saving. You have no fond memory of your aunt and uncle. Even the mere mention of their names angers you. The living condition wasn't any better, if anything, you worked your ass off to feed the people who stole from you. You hated it there and you hate it till now.

The one good thing about the place was your relationships outside the house. Reminiscing about your friends should make you smile, but even that became something to hate after you left and never came back.

"Welcome home, guys!" Stan cheered as you entered the downtown area of the small city.

Nothing much has changed, except for a few old establishments you used to work at which now bore different names. The road was definitely better. Streetlights and traffic signs were updated. The trees that once lined the sidewalk are now gone. But overall, the vibe still feels the same and you still haven't changed your mind about not coming back here. If it wasn't for Dianne asking you to be one of her bridesmaids, you wouldn't even consider taking a peek.

"We'll see you tomorrow, okay?" said Nadine, hugging you before you got out of the car.

You'll be staying at the bride's house for the rest of the week to help with the preparations. She said she'll burn every motel in town if you ever so much as consider staying in one instead of accepting her offer to accommodate you. You figured she wouldn't be able to do it for real but the way she was so passionate about it made you say 'yes' to crashing at her place.

"Y/n! My dearest!" Dianne greeted as soon as she opened the door of her house. You hugged by the doorstep, squeezing the soul out of each other until someone told you to take your dramatic reunion back inside the house.

"Congratulations, Dianne. I'm happy for you and also, thank you for having me as one of your bridesmaids," you told her while you sat around the living room with a few other girls that you were introduced to as her entourage.

"Of course, you have to be my bridesmaid. You and I go way back and did you forget that it was you who set me up with my fiancée?"

You chuckled, nodding as you were reminded of the blind date project that you worked so hard to carry out just so Dianne could have her dinner date with the handsome bookshop owner that she had a crush on. It's been six years since then but they're still together. You chatted for a while, discussing the few remaining things that still need to be done for the wedding. When the doorbell rang, Dianne excused herself to welcome her other guests. You were talking to Amanda, Dianne's little sister so you weren't paying attention to the door. Dianne approached you as soon as the guest came in and spoke in a serious tone.

"I hope you don't mind that Mark is here," she said quietly, glancing briefly at the group of men who just arrived. "He's one of Owen's groomsmen."

"No, not at all!" you replied, waving your hands briskly. "It's fine. It's your wedding. Don't worry about me."

"Are you sure? I mean, I know the breakup was awful but it means a lot to me and Owen to have both of you here with us."

You gave her an assuring smile and a pat on the shoulder. "I know. It's okay, really. This whole thing is about you and Owen. You don't have to worry about us."

"Y/N!" Owen called when he spotted you. You felt a little nervous, knowing your presence had been announced to the whole house and Mark now knows you're here too.

"Owen! Hi!" you greeted, masking your jitters with a jovial attitude. "How are you?"

"I've been great. I'm getting hitched!" he cheered, showing you the ring on Dianne's finger. "How are you? Thanks for coming. We really appreciate it."

"I'm fine. Thanks for having me."

There was sudden laughter by the doorway so the three of you glanced that way. You saw Mark for the first time in five years and he looked different. He aged up a little but he looks even more handsome now. His hair was shorter than what you remember and you figured he found a new style like you did, switching the delicate youthful vibe for a more mature style. Other than that, a girl is clinging to his arm that you don't recognize.

Dianne pulled you aside, far from anyone's earshot. "That's Tris, Owen's cousin. She's one of my bridesmaids."

"Yeah, we don't like her."

"Mandy!" Dianne scolded but Amanda just raised an eyebrow.

"What? It's true."

"They're not dating and she's just here for the wedding but I think she likes Mark. They've been hanging out ever since she got here a few days ago."

You laughed softly, holding her arm. "Thanks, Di, but I don't need to know what Mark's been up to. I'm sure he took good care of himself."

"Right. Sorry. I just had to tell you in case you assume he's dating her."

"Mark won't," Amanda smirked, giving Tris the side eye.

"You don't even know Mark that well."

"Yeah, but he's a nice guy. Guys like Mark don't date skanky spoiled brats."

"Mandy! Don't call people names!"

"Whatever, I don't like her."

You watched Amanda leave the room and escape upstairs, slightly amazed at how much she's grown. When you first met her, she was just twelve years old but she was already chatty. Now she's grown and resembled Dianne a lot but their attitudes are complete opposites. Mark's eyes fluttered over to your direction and he was quick to catch your gaze before you could even look away. He gave you a quick scan before returning to whatever they were talking about on their side of the room. You weren't expecting Mark to go all nice and chatty with you the moment you met again, but you hoped he'd be more civil than this. You were ready to do just that, so why is he being hostile?

Why else? You broke his heart dumbass.

You just shook your head and proceeded to join Amanda upstairs. She was nice enough to show you to your room and showed you around the house too so you could familiarize yourself while you were here. You never had to go back down for the rest of the day after Dianne told you to rest. It was past noon when you arrived and she was adamant that you take a break. You didn’t try to argue because you were pretty jetlagged.

In the morning, you went to a boutique for dress-fitting. The other bridesmaids were here before you so you were the only one left to get your measurements and have the dress adjusted. It was a nice velvety dress with a tiny strap that hugged your body’s figure most exquisitely. Dianne said it was Nadine’s input and everyone agreed that it looked elegant with the right amount of sexy.

“And skin,” Nadine added, running her fingers from your collarbone to your shoulder. She pointed to the slit that goes right up your mid-thigh. “And thigh too.”

“Yeah. I can see the thought process in this,” you ridiculed, although you did like the dress. You just had to point out Nadine’s inclination to revealing clothes.

You had brunch while catching up on a lot of things. You talked mostly about the wedding and how the whole proposal happened. After that, you had a few hours to yourself before Owen and the others came to pick you up for the rehearsals. You were excited to see Timmy again and to find out that he is the wedding planner for this.

“World-class event organizer, coming through,” he posed before strutting right in front of you. You just giggled, enjoying his little display.

“You’re a local event organizer, Timmy,” Stan teased when he approached your circle to stand next to you.

“The best there is!” Timmy insisted. “And it’s only for now.”

Rehearsals for the entourage began and you were visibly shocked when you were paired up with Mark. He seemed impassive about it at first but you saw just how much this affects it too the moment you started walking the aisle together. He wouldn’t let you hold him and you were fine with that but Timmy was frustrated.

“Come on, Mark. It’s just a walk. It’s forty-five seconds at best!” Timmy pleaded but Mark bristled.

“I don’t want anyone touching me, Timmy. How hard was that?”

“It’s fine, Timmy. I’m sure no one will notice,” you told Timmy who eventually gave up and let Mark have his way.

The practice continued with Mark still a bit apprehensive of you. Now that the arm hold is out of the way, he found another reason to show his disdain, missing the cue. After a few tries, Timmy decided to ignore it and proceeded with the practice.

“Mark is being unreasonable, seriously,” Timmy chided as the three of you were in his car on your way to grab something to eat.

“You can’t blame him. He hates my guts. Now he’s getting paired with me,” you defended and Nadine agreed.

“That much is still considered a display of patience, you know. If it happened to me, I’d freak.”

Timmy sighed. “Honey, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, okay? Dianne and Owen specifically asked for this. I’m just doing what I’m paid to do and what my friends asked of me.”

“And Mark’s not your friend?” Nadine taunted so Timmy shot her a glare.

“He is. But this wedding is not about him. Timmy peered at you in the backseat. “It’s not about the two of you.”

You know that, of course. That’s why you’re trying to be civil with him. He’s the one with the problem and you don’t blame him at all.

The car stopped in front of a diner which you eerily recognized. When you stepped out of the car, Timmy told you this was the diner you used to work at back in college. He said the owner had changed so did the name of the place. But everything inside except the paint was the same. From the interior to the furniture, everything reminded you of the time you used to wait tables and clean this place.

It was no surprise that you’d attend the local college right after high school. You tried to apply to other schools and although you met the grade requirements, your extra-curriculars did not. The university was in the downtown area of the city, several miles from your house. You remember the last time you went downtown; it was when you had just moved in with your aunt and she was still nice to you. She'd take you once a week for food or ice cream. But she stopped that a long time ago and you barely remembered what it looked like. For the last two years, you were back and forth from your house to your school; a public high school in the east side of the city. The downtown area may be unfamiliar to you but that didn't stop you from landing a job at a diner close to your local university. You went there for your first day of work and the manager greeted you happily. After a quick rundown of your tasks and the things you need to do, you begin immediately.

It was past 2am when a group of friends came into the diner. There were barely any customers except for a middle-aged guy drinking beer by the counter and watching late-night news. Tina, your coworker, was mopping the floor when the group arrived and one of the guys accidentally kicked the bucket, spilling water all over the floor.

"Shit, sorry!" he muttered, picking up the bucket and looking down at the mess he made with panic in his eyes.

"Damn it, Mark. Watch where you're going!"

That was the first time you met Mark. You were alerted by the commotion and peered over the counter to see what was going on. You saw him fumble with his apologies to your coworker who ended up telling him that it was her fault for putting the bucket right by the door.

Tina rounded back to the kitchen to grab something for the spilled mess. "This is not the meet-cute way I was expecting to meet Mark Lee."

"Mark Lee?" you repeated, glancing at her as she opened the cabinet of cleaning materials.

"The guy who spilled my bucket," she pouted, fake sobbing before going back

outside. “I had a crush on him in high school.”

You hadn't meant to but there was nothing else to do while you were wiping glasses dry so you observed his group. They came from a party, judging by the way some of them were groggy and others looked high. Mark wasn't. He seemed completely sober and less sweaty, laughing along with his friends. They ordered and since you were on dishwashing duty, you never had to interact with them.

You had four hours of sleep before the first day of university. Since you qualified for the scholarship, you were given a dorm and a 75% discount on your tuition. The conditions were pretty demanding, but it should be easy for you to meet. You were smart and finished high school at the top of your batch, so you were confident you'd keep the scholarship until you graduated. Even if you can't, you have to because struggling to keep your grades high is so much easier than going back to your aunt's house.

"Can I help you?" a senior approached you as you were looking around the busy school grounds. There won't be any actual class today since it's the first day. Clubs and student groups have set up booths for new students and transferees to sign up with them. There will also be a mini-concert later tonight and you found that out because of the huge banners they hung at the entrance about it.

"No, I'm good, thanks," you refused, giving him a small smile.

"Aren't you y/n?"

"Yes. How did you know me?"

He smiled and shook your hands. "I'm Spencer, the student body president. You aced the scholarship exam, everybody who cares about it knows who you are."

"Oh," you muttered, pulling your hands back when he wouldn't stop shaking them. Spencer seemed genuinely ecstatic about meeting you. He also seemed like the overly passionate, overachieving type of student.

"Sorry," he grinned. "Oh, if you're interested, would you like to sign up for the freshman representative elections?"

"Thanks, but I'll have to pass. I'm sure you'll find other suitable candidates." You turned to leave but he blocked your way.

"That's too bad, but if you change your mind, the student council office is right next to the Arts and Sciences building."

"Sure. I'll remember that. Excuse me," you walked past him in a hurry so he wouldn't block you again. As you did, a guy bumped into you so hard that you fell on your butt on the ground.

"Y/n!" Spencer helped you up. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, thanks," you muttered, patting your butt as you looked down at the other guy who bumped into you. He was on the ground too, struggling to get up and you assumed he had quite a fall.

"Mark!" one guy came running to help him. "Seriously, dude? Do you ever watch where you're going?"

Mark scoffed at him in disbelief. "How do you even know it was my fault?"

The other guy helped him up while you watched in recognition of the man. Mark Lee--the one Tina has a crush on.

"Because you're you, dumbass," the other guy chided. Mark looked at you, tilting his head and scratching his nape shyly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't see you. I was running away from someone," he explained before clenching his fist and showing it to the guy who helped him up. "Are you okay?"

"Fine."

"You guys need to watch where you're going!" Spencer went on to scold them while you took this chance to escape through the crowds.

You found yourself in the arts and sciences building, walking down the halls to find your classes. There won't be any today, but you just want to memorize the classrooms so you don't waste time looking for them tomorrow.

"Hey! I didn't catch your name," said someone who stopped you from walking by holding your elbow. You looked down at his hand on your skin so he let it go. "Sorry. I'm Mark, by the way."

"I don't see why this is necessary," you told him. You didn't mean to be unfriendly or anything. You really do think introductions were unnecessary between the two of you. The collision was an accident and you're pretty sure you won't be making friends with him while you're here. You are you, and Mark, well seemed to be on a completely different wavelength so there's no need to befriend him.

"Well, if I'm gonna be seeing you around, I think this is necessary," he smarted, smiling with his eyes focused on your face, not even blinking.

You told him your name, deciding once and for all that refusing is a waste of time. If you give him what he wants, he'll leave you alone.

"Nice to meet you," he offered his hand for a shake and you took it, shaking it once.

"Well then," you said before walking away.

"See you in class!" He called out but you never looked back.

You never thought about Mark again for the rest of the day. But he appeared at your workplace after midnight, peering over you at the counter.

"Can I help you?"

"What time do you get off work?" he asked straightforwardly, not even wasting time on small talk.

"None of your business. What can I get you?"

"There's a party at school. Why are you here?"

"Again, sir, it's none of your business. Is there anything you want to eat?"

"Can I pick you up after your shift?"

You exhaled sharply, looking around to see if anyone can substitute for you at the counter. Everyone's doing their thing so you have to deal with Mark by yourself.

"What are you doing in my workplace?"

Mark grinned, pleased to finally get something out of you. "Stalking you."

You raised an eyebrow at him so he laughed.

"No, not really. I'm not stalking you. I'm a regular here."

Your eyebrow remained raised along with the crossing of your arms.

He swallowed. "Can–can I get a cola with that burger?" he said, his voice breaking and he pointed at the menu on the wall.

You punched in his order on the register. "That will be 4.60."

Mark was persistent and patient. You came to know that after he continuously pursued you despite your indifference. He consistently went to your workplace. Sometimes he'd try his luck with a little flirting. Most times he'd just be there, quietly eating his food and taking too long to leave. At one point in the middle of the semester, he started studying there too. Another thing that worked in his favor was your classes. You're both Arts students, and you're both majoring in Arts History so you see him in most of your classes. He always shared your notes and asked you about assignments and stuff. He also tried to pair up with you each time you were given group work.

You mostly just went with the flow. You stopped getting bothered by it when you realized that your snide attitude wouldn't push him away. The attention you gave him was limited to what was required of you by your schoolwork. And you ignored his flirting and his random invitations for a date or coffee, even if he reduced the venue to the university food court. The one factor of his endless chase that you least expected was his friends.

"Yo, it's Mark's muse!" said Stan as soon as she walked into the diner.

Your ears twitched after being called that so you emphasized your name. "Welcome to our diner! My name is Y/n. What can I get for you?"

"Oh, so that's your name? It's cute, it suits you. I'm Stan." Stan beamed. He looked like a typical jock so you were expecting him to act like one but he seemed genuinely glad to know you.

"Yeah, I wonder why Mark always kept it to himself like some obsessed psycho," said the girl he was with. She smiled at you and offered her hand. "My name is Nadine. Nice to meet you, Y/n."

"Hi," you greeted timidly, returning her smile.

"Mark's crazy for you and I can see why," said the third guy whose every move, tone, and clothing tell you he's queer. "I'm Timmy. Not Tim, Timmy."

You found yourself surrounded by Mark and his circle of friends. They were nice and it surprised you because they looked like the typical rich kids from the west side of the city; snotty, bratty, and mean for no reason. But they were actually a good company that balances academics and social life perfectly. They are popular and smart and you felt a little bad for having prejudices against them. Although you liked to keep to yourself, you didn't discourage their presence. You let them join you at the food court when you're alone. You let them drag you to school events and even let them add you to their noisy group chatroom. It never occurred to you at the time that you were making friends, something you never saw yourself doing. You felt so accepted and free with them. And it was safe to say your feelings started growing towards Mark the moment his friends came into the picture because that was when you got to know him properly.

"Mark! Come on, man! You're just gonna walk down the aisle. Why do you keep messing up?" Timmy scolded for the nth time today.

"Sorry."

"What's wrong?" Dianne peered from outside the church.

"Mark keeps missing the timing," Amanda reported.

"Sorry, Di. Let's try again, Tims. I'll get it right this time."

"No. This time, y/n will hold you and you won't complain." Timmy linked your arms together and told everyone to go back out. It was the second day of rehearsals but Mark was still keeping the attitude. You were getting annoyed by it, but you chose not to intervene in case he lashed out at you. Not that you’d hate for that to happen, in fact, that would be better than making everyone walk on eggshells around the two of you.

On Timmy’s cue, the music started playing again. You huffed beside Mark, frustrated by the amount of time you had to go back from the top and hyper-aware of your linked arms.

"Stop it," you chided in a low voice.

Mark glared at you, but he kept his voice low. "Stop what?"

"Stop messing up! Why do you keep doing that?" you hissed and he scoffed.

"Because you're annoying, that's why," he spat, giving you a quick head-to-foot scan.

"Mark! In 3!" Spencer shouted and you both diverted your attention to him. You were dumbfounded but you didn't miss the cue and you both walked in together.

The practice ended after another hour and you all gathered back to Dianne's house for dinner. While everyone was busy with conversations, you couldn't help but notice the way Mark was glaring at you from across the table. He's not even hiding it anymore. At first, he just refused to interact with you but now he's downright showing everyone his disdain for you.

"Y/n!" Timmy cheered, walking to your seat to wrap his arms around you. "It's been so long, how have you been?"

"Yeah! You look great! Tell us what you've been up to in the last few years."

You chuckled timidly, embarrassed because of the sudden shower of attention. "I'm well, thanks. I’m a professor."

"She's an Art professor at NYU," Stan added.

"Really? Didn't you move to New York for NYU?"

"Yeah. I got lucky."

You glanced over at Mark who now have his eyes somewhere else.

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"What?" you blurted, surprised by the shift of topic.

"Boyfriend?"

You eyed Mark and found him still looking uninterested. "Well, I..."

"No, she's not. She hasn't dated anyone since she left the city."

Timmy scoffed at Stan. "Are you here as her representative? Why are you answering for her?"

"Because she's shy! And was I wrong, y/n? Didn't you say you haven't dated anyone since you and Mark—"

Stan was cut off when Nadine shoved a piece of bread in his mouth. "You're so skinny. You should eat some more!"

You saw Mark stand up and walk away, leaving the entire table in an awkward silence. Stan finally removed the bread from his mouth.

"Was that my fault?"

Everyone glared at him so he just flattened his lips and did a zipping gesture over his mouth.

It was Christmas when you started dating Mark. He took you to see a Christmas movie downtown but it was so boring so you just kept making funny remarks about it. You had been giggling and goofing around so much that you got kicked out of the cinema. You're not sorry though, it was an awful movie. But then you left your beanie inside the cinema and you tried to get it back only for the security guard to kick you out and threaten to call the cops on you.

"Ah, have I given you my Christmas gift yet?" Mark asked as he fitted his beanie on your head.

"You got me a Christmas gift?"

"Of course. That's the point of Christmas."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "I'm pretty sure it's Jesus' birthday."

"Maybe, but if you look further into history, you'll find that yuletide traditions were already around even before Jesus' time."

"Okay, smartass," you scoffed, tucking your hands in your jacket.

"You didn't know that? You would know that if you paid attention in class, y/n!"

You punched his chest. "Shut up. Don't use my lines on me."

Mark laughed, rubbing the part of his chest that you hit. "So, I have a gift."

"Okay, where is it?"

"Promise me you'll accept it?"

You flattened your lips. Mark has a tendency to go over the top with things and you're starting to worry that he might have bought you an expensive gift.

"It depends."

"On what?"

"On whether you spent hundreds on it."

Mark's eyes lit up. "Just 3 dollars and 42 hours."

Your brows creased. "Did you make me a Christmas sweater?"

"Yes. The ugliest one ever," he grinned before taking out a small box from the pocket of his jacket.

You found a diner to stop in and order food. Since it was Christmas, they gave you free eggnogs and candy canes.

"What are you waiting for? Open it!"

"Is it for me or for you?" you jeered.

"For you."

"Then I'll open it when I want to."

Mark whined. "Please open it? I want to see you open it."

You rolled your eyes at him as you were sipping on your drink. "Fine."

Taking the gift out, you carefully tore open the wrapping and opened the box next. You first thought it wasn't really a sweater since the box was too small, but you were surprised that it was in fact, a knitted sweater. A miniature one dangling on a keyring chain. It has a crooked letter M on the shirt that makes you grin.

"Did you make this?"

"I know it's ugly, but I made it with love. I even have mine here." He showed you his car keys which the sweater keyring is now holding. That sweater has your initial on it.

"But why is mine M?"

"M for Mark," he replied without missing a beat. You grimaced so he laughed. "You already accepted it. No backsies."

You shrugged and took out your own set of keys from your purse. You placed it on the table and fished your phone then started attaching the keyring in your phone case.

"Those are for the keys!"

"It's mine, I do what I want with it."

"Why your phone though?"

You smile after you're done with the task and let it dangle from your phone. "So that everyone will see it and ask why I have an ugly sweater as a phone accessory."

Mark laughed at that and you watched him for a while, taking in his features; the pretty curve of his eyes, his arched eyebrows, his supple skin, and the way his adorable set of teeth showed when he smiled. You stared and realized that he was the most breathtaking man you had ever met. Not because he's the most handsome or the most good-looking, but rather because he's the one person in this place that made you see the sliver of beauty that it possessed. He made you see that this place is not completely miserable. He made you realize that love can bloom even in a place where you never imagined it could survive.

"And when they do ask me that," you added after a while, making Mark pause to listen. "I'll tell them my boyfriend made it for me."

You saw how Mark's face went from goofy to surprised to delighted in a matter of seconds. He stood up from his seat across you and swiftly pulled you up for a hug. You hugged him back because you realized you were right all along, Mark doesn't only look warm, he is warm. His embrace, his breath, and the way he makes your heart feel. Mark is the warmth that you yearned for in your cold miserable world.

"Are you my girlfriend?"

"Yes."

"If I kiss you, will that be okay?"

"Yes."

And so, Mark did. He scooped your face and you never thought he could get any warmer than he already was but there he was, surprising you again.

"You think Mark's pissed?" Dianne asked worriedly when you saw each other at the breakfast table the next morning. She was asking you but you just shrugged. "He never came back last night," she added, as if you don't already know that.

"I'm sure he's fine. Probably just a little under the weather. I heard he had flu a few days ago and just got better," Amanda concluded but that didn't seem to convince Dianne.

"I'm sorry, y/n. We shouldn't have forced the two of you together. It was mainly my idea and Timmy just agreed because he said the thought behind it was beautiful."

"It's okay," you smiled, squeezing her hand affectionately. "Mark just has his issues right now. You know how he is; he won't let this ruin anything in the slightest."

"I hope so," Dianne sighed. "I'm starting to consider changing things up. I know it's about us but I also don't want anyone to feel uncomfortable during the whole thing."

Amanda tapped on your elbow so you glanced at her. "What did go wrong with you two?"

"Mandy!" Dianne chided but you just smiled at her, telling her it was alright.

Everything was well between you and Mark. He was a great boyfriend, just like you imagined he'd be. He was consistent and patient, and he never failed to show you his affection in plenty of ways.

He would offer to help you study, share his notes with you, and help you when you're struggling with any of your classes. He randomly took you to where there's good food and he also showed you beautiful places around the city. He was patient with you and never forced you into anything without your consent. You were just happy, utterly happy each time you were with him. In exchange, you gave him your time, your affection, and your undivided attention. You encouraged him when he was down and insecure. You encouraged his dreams and showed him that he is capable of doing anything as long as he puts his mind to it. Your relationship was a happy one, catering to each other with utmost care and living in the moment while reminding each other of your love.

Mark was content, you were happy. Your relationship had no problems. The problem was you. While Mark bore his whole entire being for you to see and love, you only shared your best side. You showed him your intelligence, your wit, your beauty, and your kindness. But you never showed him your frustrations, your struggles, your darkness, and your pain. You told him your dreams and aspirations but you never told him the things that motivated these dreams. While Mark showed you the good and the bad, you gave him the good and left it at that.

"Good for you! You finally found your way home!" your aunt said sarcastically when she opened the door for you.

"Are you drunk?" you asked despite not caring at all. You walked past her into your bedroom to take some of the stuff that you'd be needing for school.

"You look good. Is the university treating you well? I heard you earned a scholarship," she asked as she trailed behind you.

You opened your bedroom and saw the messy state it was in. It was clean when you left it but it looks like someone had been living in it.

"Did you go through my stuff?"

"Why would I do that? It's not like you leave anything valuable when you go out," she spat, leaning on the doorway.

You searched through your desk for your files and tucked them safely inside your bag. Then you remembered you needed a few clothing so you went through your closet.

"So how was school? Do they give you a stipend for your scholarship?" she pressed on and you couldn't help huffing when you recognized where the conversation was going.

"They don't. I get a 75% discount on tuition. I still need to pay for the remaining 25," you explained begrudgingly, groaning when you couldn't find the jacket you were looking for. You looked elsewhere and found it on the floor by the hamper. "Have you been wearing my clothes?" you asked but your aunt just shrugged.

"Why would I wear your clothes? They're too big for me."

"That's because you're so thin. I told you to eat properly. But look at you!" you chided, huffing again. "You've been drinking again! It's 9 in the morning! You told your rehab officer that you'd stop!"

Your aunt might have been cruel but she was still your mother's sister. You wanted to hate her to the point of abandoning her, but she looks so much like your mom that you can't even ignore her.

"Stop nagging me and just give me money for food! How will I eat when I have nothing for food?" she hollered back at you.

You decided to ignore her and put your dirty clothes back into the hamper. That was when you saw a few pieces of used condoms right by the basket.

"Gross. What's this?"

"Oh, that's not mine. It's Greg's."

You scowled. "Who's Greg?"

"The one renting your room."

Your jaw dropped. "You rented out my room?"

"You didn't come home and the room was vacant. We needed money because you haven't given us any for the past few months."

"Damn it, Auntie!" you complained, stomping on the floor.

You hurriedly grabbed your other stuff and found a bag to stash them in. Everything important, you stuffed in your luggage and brought it out of the room.

"Where are you going with all that?"

"I'm going back to the dorms. I'll be living there until I finish college anyway."

You dragged it all the way outside the house. Taking your purse out, you gave your aunt a few 20s and told her to stop drinking and buy some decent food. She didn't even thank you and proceeded to tell you that they had no running water because it had been cut off.

"Tell your asshole husband to work! I'm not your piggy bank!"

"What did you say about me?"

You spun when you heard your uncle's voice from behind you. He looked drunk already but he was carrying a bag of alcohol.

"You bitch, what were you saying about me?" he repeated, walking closer so you were face to face with him.

You glared at him, not even scared of his taunting. "I said you're an assho—"

You were cut off by a sudden pain in your shoulder, making you fall onto the ground. You didn't notice the empty bottle he was holding in his right hand that he used to hit you.

"You have the nerve to talk like that after I let you live in my house! You ungrateful bitch!" He raised his hand to hit you again but you kicked his shin. You stood up quickly and hit him with your purse. You hit his head and then his back and again and again until he was on the ground. Your aunt rushed to him so you stopped, kicking the bag of alcohol bottles and spitting on it before you walked away with your stuff. You are never going back there.

For years, he verbally and physically abused you, hitting you when you couldn't give him money and hitting you again when you talked back to him. You will never stop talking back to him, you have the right to do so after they bled you dry of your parents' money. They even went through your college fund and didn't leave a single penny for you. And when you started working, they continued to milk you for the money you earned through your hard work. You were the only one keeping that house running but each time you tried to make things work, they go back to their old ways. If it wasn't for you being a minor, you would have left a long time ago. Now you're a legal adult and you won't stand up for it anymore. Once you finish college, you will leave this place and never come back.

"Hi, you're y/n, right?"

You looked up at the pretty lady who approached you outside the library. "Yes. Can I help you?"

She smiled and offered her hand for a shake. "My name is Dianne. I was thinking of offering you a part time job, if you want it."

"What makes you think I need it?" Your response was a little harsh but Dianne understood that it may have sounded like she was looking down at your financial status.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. The library is hiring new junior librarians this semester. It's exclusive to scholars and it has a grade requirement. I was thinking of offering you a spot."

"Oh, I heard about it," you told her, warming up a little.

"Yeah. You see, no one applied yet. A handful did but they did not meet the grade requirement. It's a school foundation effort so having good grades is really important because you'll be getting paid for the job."

"I'll try it out."

"Great. You can apply inside," she said,

guiding you into the library.

You filled out a form and Dianne asked you to wait while they check your grades. The waiting didn't take long and she told you you got the job. You had no class left for the day and you have exactly five hours before your shift at the diner starts so you got started right away on a 4-hour library duty.

The work wasn't hard. You will need to sort books, handle returns, do an inventory every few weeks, and update the portal for every new book. So far it was only you and Dianne on the junior librarian team because as she mentioned, no one else applied for it. Dianne was a senior Linguistics student and she seemed nice.

"I've been a librarian since I was a freshman. My friends have been calling me one too. Sometimes they joke that I smell like books."

You chuckled quietly. She was chatting you up while she was showing you the stock room. That was when your phone started ringing.

"Who is it?" she asked inquisitively.

"My boyfriend," you replied, eyeing his name on the screen.

"Hmmh, good for you that you have a boyfriend. I think this library is the reason why I don't have one," she sighed, leaving you alone to answer the call.

You told Mark where you were and he said he'd be there soon so you finished up with the library work. When you came out, you found Mark in the lounge and he waved at you. This wasn't new because you always hung out with him at the library. But seeing your librarian vest made him laugh quietly. You told him to behave while you do your job. You've been tasked to put the returned books back on their shelves and Mark helped you push the cart.

"You're a librarian now?" he teased while you were looking for a specific shelf.

"I am."

"Why?"

"Because I am. It's my dream," you joked and he laughed so you shushed him.

"Sorry. How did this happen?"

"They were hiring junior librarians."

"And you signed up because your dream was to be one?"

"Yes. And I get paid to do it," you chimed.

"Sounds like a good deal,” he chuckled heartily, knowing you didn’t mean it.

You were halfway through the tall stack of books and didn't notice that you'd gone further into the back part of the library until Mark pulled you aside.

"Why? What's wrong?" you asked, thinking he was running from something. Mark looked around and peeked outside the corner you were hiding in before he smiled at you. You sighed upon realizing that he was trying to be alone with you. "Really? In the library?"

Mark shrugged. "Why? I'm sure we're not the only ones doing it."

"Yes, but right now, I'm a librarian. I should be discouraging this rather than doing it myself."

"Two minutes?" he pleaded.

"Mark," you threatened.

"One?"

"We have time later," you insisted but he pouted.

"Thirty seconds?" was his last bargain.

You huffed before you pulled the collar of his shirt and kissed him. He kissed you right back, holding your waist firmly and even closing his eyes. You might have done it begrudgingly, but you gotta admit how great it was to be kissing Mark. Still, you kept count of the time he bargained for, and right as he was starting to feel up your ass, you pushed him back.

"Your thirty seconds is up."

"Aw," he whined but you were already leaving the nook. He grabbed your shoulder and you winced in pain because he gripped the exact spot where your uncle had hit you. "Oh, shit, sorry! What happened?"

He was quick to push the sleeve of your shirt up and you couldn't even stop him. The bruise was dark and purple and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets at the sight of it.

"What the hell happened?" he hollered so you covered his mouth and shushed him, looking around the library for anyone you disturbed. You were at the farthest corner though so no one saw you.

"Just some accident at work," you lied through gritted teeth. "Be quiet!"

"You're so clumsy!" he chided softly, kissing the spot tenderly.

"Really? Coming from you?"

The next day, you arrived at the library and were welcomed by Mark Lee, the new junior librarian.

"No way. You're not a scholar. You don't even need the salary," you chided, grimacing at him.

"Well, his grades were good and they're consistent. The scholarship part was a big deal but since were short-staffed, the Head Librarian just agreed to take him in," Dianne explained. "Anyway, I already showed you how to sort these right? Get started on it. Mark, be a dear and help your girlfriend. Take these to the stock room."

You looked down the box of newly purchased books for the library and then to Mark who was smiling when he picked them up and loaded them one by one on the cart.

"Also, don't hook up there. I mean, no one will find out that you did but don't do it! It's unsanitary." Dianne teased so you shushed her.

"Dianne! Gross!"

She was giggling when you left for the stock room. Mark was walking snuggly close to you so you took a step away. But then he came close again so you just let him do it until you reached the stock room.

"Dianne is very nice," he commented while he opened the boxes.

"Yeah, and she's very pretty too."

"I can see that," Mark agreed.

"Right? That's why I was wondering why she's single."

"She's single?"

"She is. She says it's because she's a boring librarian, but I'm pretty sure I noticed a few guys checking her out yesterday. They're even pretending to read."

Mark chuckled. "I think it's because she's pretty intimidating."

"Pretty and intimidating, " you corrected and you both laughed.

"I know someone who likes her. And I was thinking of setting them up. Remember Owen? From the bookshop downtown."

"Yeah, he seems nice."

"What do you think?"

You shook your head, placing the books you've finished counting on a separate box, and then you walked towards Mark. "I think we shouldn't meddle with other people's business."

"I agree," he replied, lips curving into a smile when you didn't stop coming closer. You gave him a coy smile as you placed a hand on his abdomen, firmly pressing on the muscles beneath his shirt. Mark's breathing hitched but he steadied it again. "And I agree with that. Keep going. I will keep agreeing," he declared, nodding his head encouragingly.

You grabbed the tape dispenser from behind him and immediately moved back to your seat in front of the table.

"What will you keep agreeing on, Mark Lee?" you asked innocently as you pulled the tape out to close the box of books.

"Hey, no fair!"

You just laughed when he went behind you and hugged your sitting figure. He even stomped his feet in a tantrum.

"What? You're so naughty. We're literally in school."

He lifted his head from your neck and looked sideways at you. "How about when we're outside school?"

"I don't know. What do you mean by that question anyway?"

"Babe!" he whined again and you just laughed. "Stop teasing me! You're so mean!"

After putting the books in the records, you spent a few more minutes in the stock room making out with Mark to appease him. He didn't ask for anything much, content with what you were willing to give him. He was even grinning like a fool when you left the stock room.

The library became a special place for you and Mark, working together and goofing around. It was tiring sometimes but Mark was there and everything seemed to go well whenever he was around. That was what Mark has become in your life, someone you can lean on who doesn't attempt to pry for anything you're not willing to share. You know it was because he was oblivious to your inner demons, but you were glad to have a part of you that is not influenced by your pain. Sure, you realized somewhere along the way that you became an entirely different person when you're with Mark, but he doesn't know that and you decided to let it stay that way.

"Wow!" you all exclaimed when you arrived at the beach that was more than familiar to you. It had been decorated with a podium, a stage, and the surrounding structures. The only things missing are the flowers and the drapes which will be installed on the wedding day to avoid getting ruined.

"Look at this place!" You exclaimed. "It looks so much better now!"

The beach used to be nothing but a vacant space, with palm trees, wildflowers, and washed-over branches. Apparently, Owen bought it a year ago when the nearby hotel threatened to develop it into an extension of their building. He beautified it and built a beach house where they usually stayed during get-togethers. The beach remains open to the public, except this week for their wedding.

"Hey, isn't this your dating place?" Stan asked you and received a spank on the head courtesy of Timmy. "Ow! Hey!"

"Why would you bring that up?"

"I was just asking because I missed her," Stan defended and you just shook your head before following the girls into the house.

"What do you think?" Owen asked when you entered the house. You couldn't say anything other than gape at the wooden but modernized utilities around the house. It was spacious and you understood why Owen called it The Friends House because it really was big enough to house a large group of friends.

"It's beautiful, Owen. I don't know what to say."

"Yeah, you would have seen it before if you hadn't continuously bailed out on our invitations," Owen sulked, pouting at you. Dianne elbowed him and he groaned. "But you're here now! Welcome to the Friends House!"

"Thanks," you chimed. "It's great what you've done to the place."

"This place means a lot to Dianne and me, and it meant a lot to our crazy little squad so, other than the fact that it would be awful to tear the beach down, I also didn't want to lose its sentimental value."

You were about to say something when Mark arrived, making all heads turn to him.

"What?" he asked after a few seconds of awkward silence.

"Mark! You came back!" Stan cried dramatically, running to Mark for a hug.

The others laughed while Dianne called you girls to assign rooms. You shared your room with Nadine and you didn't care enough to ask how the boys assigned theirs. You then went out with the girls for a spa and shopping treatment downtown. She called it her last day of freedom and later tonight, the bridal shower that you prepared with the bridesmaids will take place in the beach house. Dianne called dibs on it because your party was indoors. As for the boys, you had no idea what they were up to.

"So that beach," Tris began while the five of you were getting your nails done. "I heard Mark discovered it?"

"Mark and y/n," Nadine corrected.

"Yeah, Mark," Tris repeated, turning to Nadine. "How exactly did he find such a beautiful place?"

You saw how Nadine grinned devilishly. "By taking y/n on romantic dates around the city."

Tris frowned at her and leaned back on her seat with a ‘hmph’.

Mark liked driving around the city. In the first few months of your relationship, you thought you'd seen everything there is to see but he surprised you again by taking you to the coast. You knew there's a coastline here but you've never been there before. It was lined by resorts and hotels but in a secluded spot westward is a hidden gem that he proudly boasted to you like he's the one who discovered it. Of course, it's been there ever since but it was too far to be considered a go-to place for anyone who wants to go to the beach. It was untouched and beautiful and you did plenty of picnics there, watching the sunset together.

He took you there to celebrate anything. He took you there when you needed comfort or when he needed a break. He took you there for no reason, especially when you both want to go out but can't think of a specific place to go. Most days, you would stay until after the sun has completely set, tangled in each other in a liplock. It was your own little secret until it wasn't anymore.

"I'm hungry," Mark complained, lying on your lap under the shade.

You snorted. "We literally just ate everything in our basket."

"Yeah, but I'm still hungry. I don't know why," he replied, sitting up and looking around. "Should we try fishing?"

"You'll need a boat for that and a fishing line."

"Foraging? Seashells wash up here all the time."

"You'll need to cook it."

"There is some seafood you can eat raw," he insisted and you shrugged.

"Yeah, but I think you'll need at least some salt or something."

He looked at you and stared for a while, his eyes moving from your lips to your eyes and back again.

"What?" you asked when he didn't say anything.

"I know what I want to eat," he said seriously, moving towards you.

You scoffed and met him halfway, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips. "There. Satisfied?"

"No," he replied, still inching closer so you leaned back. "It was a bit bland, chef. I think I need to taste it again."

You giggled still leaning back. When you couldn't hold yourself up anymore, you held onto his neck, but that caused you to accidentally pull him close and fall on your back down the picnic mat. He moved painfully slow towards your lips and kissed you equally as slowly. When he wouldn't kiss you properly, you realized he was teasing you so you bit his lip.

"Ow!" he muttered, laughing at your annoyed expression. "What? I was trying to taste it properly."

You pulled him by the collar and kissed him. Mark stopped playing around then, kissing you properly in the same delirious way you liked it to be. He bit your lip, prompting you to open your mouth and when you did, his tongue slid expertly inside. Four months of dating had you become an expert in kissing each other.

He has memorized your lips, your pattern, and your timings. He kissed you like he studied how to and you have no complaints because the last time you kissed someone has long been lost from your memory. Mark was the best and only kiss you've ever known.

"Mark," you breathed when you parted for a moment. He didn't reply and just dived in to kiss you again. It seemed like he wouldn't be listening to you, focusing too much on your lips, so you gathered your strength to sit up. He fell off on you and looked at you worriedly because of your sudden movement.

"Sorry, was that too much?"

"No." You pushed his chest so he was lying down and straddled his hips. Mark looked up at you in surprise.

"Y/n..." he muttered, hands falling on your waist.

"You're not listening to me," you complained before kissing him.

Mark was dragged into the vice of your lips again, one hand firmly holding your back while the other rested on your waist. Lust has begun to overcome you, grinding ever so slightly on his hard-on. That made Mark pull away and stare at you.

"What are you doing?"

You buried your face on his chest, too shy to show him how horny he has made you in the last few minutes.

"Babe, you don't have to if you don't want to," he whispered, kissing your head and patting your back.

"I want to," you mumbled but he didn't seem to hear. You lifted your head and looked straight into his eyes. "I want to, Mark. I want you."

Mark claimed your lips then and you were back to making out. His hand that once sat innocently on your waist has slid under your sundress, caressing and squeezing your inner thigh. His kisses left your lips to travel the length of your neck, sucking and kissing the supple skin. He sat up to better access your chest, pulling down the sleeves of your dress to reveal your bosoms.

"Oh, baby, look at you," he blurted as he took a good look at your chest before burying his face between them and taking a huge sniff of your skin. "You're so beautiful."

"Mark," you called out, pulling his head away before dragging your bra down. Mark wasted no time and sucked on your nipple, massaging the other one. The moan that escaped your mouth was euphoric, making you grind on his erection even faster. He kept switching between your boobs, all the while encouraging you to keep grinding by helping you move your waist.

"Oh my gosh," you screamed out, feeling your pussy clench with pleasure. Mark flipped you over, taking his shirt off before kissing your lips. When he pulled away, he gave you a smirk that almost made you gasp. Mark had always been handsome but right now, he looked so sexy to you and you knew it was the lust in your head that's making you say so.

He lifted your dress up to your waist and panic overcame you, making you close your legs. Mark just gave you an encouraging smile and squeezed your knee.

"It's okay. We can stop here today," he said softly.

"No, it's not that." You looked away, embarrassed to say the next words. "I've never done this before."

Mark appeared clueless for a second. "Sorry, what?"

You huffed and pushed yourself in a sitting position and wrapped your knees in your arms. "Nevermind. Let's just go if you're not interested."

Mark just laughed and pulled you into a hug. "Hey, that's not what I mean. Come on." He laid you back down, kissing you softly before looking into your eyes. "Are you sure you wanna do this?"

"Yeah."

"It might hurt."

"Yeah, it's okay."

"Really?"

"Yes, Mark! Are we gonna do this or not?"

Mark chuckled, kissing your forehead. "We are. I'm just checking to be sure."

"Fine." You were frowning but you just can't wait for Mark to pick up where you left off. You made out some more, building the heat back up from where it was abruptly halted. Mark began by touching your pussy, feeling up your wetness, and massaging it over your underwear. He pulled away from the kiss and caressed your cheek.

"Alright. Don't worry, okay? I got you," he said, leaving your side to position between your legs. He stripped you off your underwear and looked down at your pussy, then back at you with a smirk. But just as he was about to go down on you, you heard faint laughter from a distance that made you sit up instantly.

"Did you hear that?" you asked and Mark shushed you so he could listen properly.

"Mark?!" called a loud voice from far away. You gasped, taking your underwear and slipping it back on.

"Mark Lee?!" the voice called again, nearer this time.

"Shit, it's Stan!" Mark blurted and you immediately tossed his shirt back to him.

Mark wore it and stood in complete panic so you made him sit next to you on the mat and you both watched the yellow sky like nothing happened.

"Mark?" Stan called, his head peeking through the bushes. "Ah, there they are. I told you Mark is here!"

You glanced back at them, feigning indifference. Mark was even able to act annoyed.

"Yo, guys, what are you doing here?" he asked as Nadine and Timmy followed right behind Stan. "How did you find this place?"

"We were driving around when we saw your car on the side of the road," Timmy explained, looking around. "This place is beautiful. What is this place?"

"Mark found it," you replied, looking at Mark.

"Wow, and you've been keeping this from us? Like, really?" Nadine accused while looking around in amazement as well. "This place is literally paradise."

"It's an undeveloped part of the beachline, Nad. Don't be dramatic," Timmy chuckled. "But you're right. A few tweaks, some flowers and fruit trees, and this place will be paradise."

"Food!" Stan exclaimed, running to the basket you had with you. You just laughed knowing there's nothing in there.

Nadine was the first to call it Friends Beach, mainly because she was obsessed with Friends at the time but also because you didn't know what to call it when you made plans to go there. You cleaned the beach all the time, making sure no one would trash it and Timmy even went on to bring fruit trees and orchids that he attached to the huge tree at the center of the area. You kept it to yourselves, declaring it a private space just for friends. But your friend group soon welcomed two more people in it after a successful blind date mission.

"Mark! Guess what?!" you exclaimed at Mark when he visited you at the diner one day.

"What?"

"You said Owen likes Dianne?"

"Yeah. He said the pretty senior at the university library. Why?"

"How did they meet?"

Mark leaned on the table and thought for a while. "I'm not sure but he said he first saw her when she was delivering books to the library a few months ago. Why?"

You gasped. "Oh my god, I knew it. Listen, Dianne said she met this really nice guy a few months ago and fell in love with him but she heard he has a wife, so she reduced it to a crush. But she always passed by his bookshop every day to see him."

"Bookshop? You mean she likes Owen too?"

"Yes. Other than old man Luciano, the only one with a bookshop downtown is Owen."

Mark was also shocked by your revelation. "But wait, did she say he has a wife?"

"Yes."

"Owen doesn't have a wife."

"Oh, so why did she say that?"

"I don't know. But he's single, for sure. I know because we're close. Although he does hook up sometimes, he's very single."

You nodded at this and gave Mark a big grin. "You know how I said we shouldn't meddle with other people's business?"

"Yeah."

"I take that back. Let's set them up!"

And so, you spent a week planning an elaborate blind date for Owen and Dianne with the help of your other friends. By the weekend, you went home feeling proud that the date took place and then you braced yourselves for the results. Setting it up was the easy part, the hard part was whether they'd click or not. And that's also the part you can't do anything about.

"How was it?" Mark secretly asked when you saw each other at the library on Monday after the weekend date.

"I don't know. I just got here too. I haven't seen her yet."

"Mark, y/n?"

You both jolted when you heard Dianne speak behind you. She sounded stern and looked even more so when you saw her face. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she was tapping her foot on the floor impatiently.

"Dianne! Hi!" Mark greeted jovially, laughing awkwardly right after.

"I know what you guys did," she said without missing a beat and you felt your heart sink. Mark almost knelt on the floor if you hadn't stopped him.

"Dianne, I'm sorry. It was my idea," you blurted but she remained unfazed so you swallowed.

"THANK YOU!" She cheered loudly before hugging the two of you, even shaking your arms in excitement.

"Silence in the library!" The head librarian shouted and the three of you ducked and then ran to the nearest bookshelf to hide.

Dianne and Owen became a constant in your friend group in no time. You hung out often and even turned Owen's bookshop into a mini café where he'd make coffee for you each time you went there. Dianne was definitely older than you and your friends so she mostly acted like the mom of the group, scolding those who were skipping study time and giving out study materials during exams week. Owen just bought you food each time one of you complains of hunger. Your bond grew closer through time until you left and decided to never come back.

You used to belong with these people, a friend and a special part of their lives. Maybe you still are right now, but in your heart, you know you don't deserve to be at the receiving end of their love anymore. You used to love this group, but now you hate them. Not the kind of hate that makes you want to punch them in the face or cut them off, but the kind that makes you hate yourself. Simply put, you hate them because you hate yourself. Why? Mark. He was the reason you became friends with them and after doing such an awful thing to him, you felt undeserving of this whole squad. If anything, you wish they'd hate you but Mark would never let that happen. Whatever happened between you, it seems like he kept it to himself. Because if he did tell anyone, you know they'd hate your guts.

"Are you ready Di?" Timmy asked as he pushed a cart with the cake on it. You all wanted to laugh looking at the dick-shaped fondant adorning the cake, but you stopped yourselves.

The Friends’ House is now filled with girls involved in Dianne's wedding, friends, relatives, and other ladies who were invited to the Bridal Shower.

"Welcome to your last night of maidenhood!" Timmy announced, and Amanda lifted the blindfold off of Dianne's head on cue. You all started cheering when she grabbed the dick cake and bit off its head. Some cameras were filming her as she did this. The party went on with loud music blasting from speakers, champagne showers, lots of dancing, and more alcohol.

By 11pm, the house was reduced into a crowded mess of drunken women, wet with both sweat and champagne and lying down on whatever solid space they could find.

"We're old," Dianne muttered while you lay on the wooden floor with her and the others. "We can't even last until midnight. That's just another hour from now."

You giggled; head clouded with alcohol. You had just started coming down from the high of the party and the sugar rush of sweet pastries.

"No, you're old. I'm just partying with the wrong crowd," Nadine corrected, rolling on her side so she could hug you. "I wonder what the boys are up to."

"Probably falling asleep like we are," Dianne laughed. "Drunk and wasted at 11pm."

"You guys are wasted. Not me," you snorted as you forced yourself to stand up, squinting so your eyes would focus on the figure you were seeing at the doorway. You recognized Mark and immediately perked up.

"Oh, it's my Mark," you grinned, standing up groggily to go to him. You staggered a few times, but you regained your balance, telling no one that you were okay. "No, seriously guys. I'm okay!"

"Oh god, what is she doing?" Nadine asked, watching you walk towards the man and wrap your arms around his neck.

"You're a handsome young man," you told him, losing your balance on your high heels but he caught your arm and you just giggled. "Sorry. You look like this guy I used to know."

"Get your shit together, y/n," he chided through gritted teeth.

"Sounds like something he'd say if he sees me like this," you replied, giggling.

"You're drunk. Go get some rest."

You straightened up but you didn't take your arms off of him. "Oh, I'm not drunk but they are!" You pointed to the others and started laughing at them.

Nadine groaned and lay back down. "Ugh, she's gonna regret this."

"Can I kiss you?"

Mark was taken aback but he just frowned slightly. "Why would you do that? Do you know me?"

"You're Mark Lee," you giggled and then scowled. "Or are you? I think you are."

"Why would you kiss me if you know I'm Mark Lee?"

You looked away for a second to think. "I don't know." You glanced back at him and let go of his neck. "You know what, you're right. I can't just kiss you because you look like Mark."

You were about to walk away but he pulled you back to his chest. "I didn't say you can't."

Your whole face lit up, eyebrows rising when you said, "I can?"

"Why don't you try and see?"

You giggled as you wrapped your arms back around his neck and planted a soft kiss on his lips. Mark stayed still, holding your waist firmly because you weren't standing properly on your heels. You pulled away after a few seconds of just pressing your lips on his. The grin on your face was satisfied but also drunk.

"Now what?"

You shook your head. "My Mark is a better kisser," you said before burying your face in his chest and taking a deep breath.

You stayed like that for a few seconds before a stomping sound was heard on the wooden floors and someone pulled you by the shoulder.

"Hmm?" you inquired before a slap landed on your face. Mark quickly wrapped you in his embrace, shielding you from a drunk and angered Tris.

"Slut!" she hissed before attempting to attack you again but Mark pulled you away from her. He shot Tris a cold glare before dragging you out of the house.

The men outside were still drinking in front of the bonfire when Mark carried you out. Owen called him but he was rushing you out of anyone's eyes and ears. Your hands fell limply on your side while Mark was carrying you, the other was stroking your stinging cheek.

"You okay?" he asked with a grunt, heaving you up. You were a little heavier than he expected.

You smiled brightly, eyes half-lidded as sleepiness started to get to you. "Yes! My cheek kind of hurts though."

"Yeah, someone slapped you."

"I know, silly. I saw it," you laughed and Mark sighed in exasperation, stopping for a while to glare at you.

"Stop smiling. That wasn't funny at all."

You shook your head and then pointed to him. "I know. What's funny is you. You have two heads." You started laughing, throwing your head back and kicking your legs and Mark almost lost his balance.

"For fuck's sake, y/n." He knelt and dropped you on the sand, making you land on your butt. You complained, rubbing your ass slowly over your satin dress.

"You're mean," you muttered, laying your head on the nearby rock before closing your eyes. "I hate you."

"You do? Good because I hate you too."

You didn't hear that anymore because you drifted to sleep quickly, your breath steadying. Mark tsked, pocketing his hands as he looked down at you on the sand.

"Get up. Go sleep in your room." But you didn't move and it was stupid to tell you to sleep in your room because he already brought you far from the house, far from everyone; here in the cove that you both know so well. The cove that became your own personal hideout. "Come on."

Mark knelt on the sand and picked you up, patting away the sand on your skin and hair. Then he took off his jacket and placed it on the ground. He laid you there and let your head rest on his lap while he rested his back on the big boulder behind him. He stayed like that, convinced you'd wake up soon enough and you could walk back to the house by yourself.

And you did. You woke up with a mild headache and a stiff neck. It was dark and the only light was coming from Mark's phone's flashlight. You sat up and saw Mark sleeping with his back on the rock. You were confused for a second but memories started flooding back to you, making you shake your head in shame. You stood up, picking up his jacket to cover him with it. Then you started to slowly sneak away.

"Where are you going?" he called, making you stop dead in your tracks.

"Nowhere," you replied, sitting right next to him in an instant. "I was just looking around."

"Good. Don't leave," he ordered with his eyes still closed before leaning his head on your shoulder.

You looked around you and recognized the cove you used to hide in after the beach became Friends Beach. It was a bit further into the sparse woods but it was difficult to find. You remembered stumbling upon this area by accident and it has since become your hideout. It wasn't even an actual cove, just a small open space hidden behind tall trees. The lower part of the cliff had been weathered and continuously struck by the waves, making it look like a small cave. Mark has tried to go there before only to find shallow solid rock curvature, no actual cave.

The first time you had sex with Mark was by this cove. He had been trying his luck with fishing but he never caught a single one so he was sulking on the mat. You comforted him by saying you'd buy him sushi but one thing led to another and you were suddenly making out. Mark had been gentle with you, prepping you for himself and making sure you were comfortable. He kept comforting you the whole time, asking if you were fine and if he should stop. And even when you finally got over the painful part, he maintained his gentleness while keeping you satisfied. Ever since that day, sex with Mark became your favorite thing.

Your rendezvous were mostly innocent, by the cove, at his house, and in a hotel. He tried several times to sneak into your dorm but the security was too tight. That was around the same time you started going to parties with them and more often than not, you'd end up having sex in his car after too much alcohol and dancing. Mark was good with anything and he was especially good with sex.

"Why are we here on a weekend?" you asked as you entered Mark's house.

"Because we don't have anything fun to do," he replied, holding your hand as you climbed the stairs.

Mark's house is huge, situated in the suburban area of the city. His family is wealthy, as you've observed but you only met his mother a handful of times because they are never around much. The moment you found out that he was rich, you started to feel small about yourself. He lives in an entirely different world while you struggle to make ends meet. Your love for him was the only thing keeping you from leaving.

"What about fishing? Have you given up on it?"

Mark shrugged. "I can practice next time. For now, I want to lounge around and just do nothing with you."

You rolled your eyes as you stepped into his room. "There is no way you're just doing nothing with me, Mark."

He grinned as he closed the door, then stepped towards you to kiss you. "I'm glad you know that."

You scoffed before he kissed you, pulling you close so your bodies were touching. Mark guided you to the bed, your lips still locked together. But as soon as he sat you down, someone started knocking on his door. You both pulled away and he whined as he went to open his door.

"Mom," he asked, a bit surprised. "I thought you were leaving today."

"We had to come back for something," she replied, peering into the room where you sat on his bed. She smiled at you so you returned it. "Why don't you help your Dad find some files in the study? It's very important and he's saying he put them on the top shelves. None of us can reach it."

"Sure." He turned to you and smiled. "I'll be right back."

When Mark left, his mother came into the room and sat next to you on the edge of the bed.

"How are you, y/n? Is Mark treating you well?"

"I'm fine, Ma'am. Mark is very kind to me."

"Good. As he should," she chimed, reaching for your hand and holding it in her lap. "Anything planned after college?"

"A few things, but nothing is set yet. I'm still trying to figure things out," you replied politely.

She nodded at that and then sighed. "I want the best for my son, y/n. And I want him to be happy more than anything else. If you can bring out the best in him while also making him happy, I will be grateful to you until the day I die."

You smiled at her, squeezing her hand as a form of gratitude for her entrusting Mark to you. "I'll try my best, ma'am."

"Thank you." She chuckled heartily. "I may be absent now that he's grown, but I spent most of my life raising that boy. I'm sure he won't ever hurt you. Mark never hurts those he loves."

His mother was right. Mark never hurts those he loves. But you weren't Mark. You're cursed to hurt those you love and ruin them beyond repair.

“Congratulations, Dianne!” Nadine sobbed, hugging Dianne on her seat in front of the mirror.

Dianne just laughed, stroking Nadine's arms affectionately. “Thanks, but I'm not even married yet.”

“You might as well be. You look so ready to walk that aisle already.”

You sighed as you stepped out of the bathroom in your bridesmaid dress. “Oh god, Nadine. She just put makeup on. What would you do when she's in her wedding dress already?”

“I would literally drop dead,” Nadine claimed, carefully wiping her tears so she didn't smudge her makeup.

Dianne shook her head as she walked to the dress with the hired stylist. “No, don't drop dead. We're already one bridesmaid short. We can't afford to lose another one on the day of the wedding.”

“One bridesmaid short? Why what happened? Who's missing?” you questioned and everyone in the room looked at you in confusion. You saw that the only one missing was Tris and was about to ask when Amanda explained.

“We kicked the bitch out.”

“Why?”

Dianne scowled at you. “What do you mean why? Don't you remember getting slapped last night or did that take a toll on your memory?”

“Tris slapped me?”

“You don't remember? Did also forget clinging to your ex and calling him your Mark?”

You flattened your lips together in shame. “I remember that bit.” You were actually so preoccupied with Mark that you don't remember anything else from last night except him.

“Good. Tris attacked you because of that.” Nadine was seething. One moment she was crying about Dianne, now she's so angry that her brows are knitted. “She's lucky it didn't leave a bruise because I'd bury her alive.”

“So, she won't be here today?”

“No. Not ever. She already caused too much trouble with her picky attitude during the wedding preparations. She's not even related to me in any way other than the fact that she's Owen's cousin. I won't tolerate her trampling on the people I care about,” Dianne ranted while she was being dressed.

Nadine comforted her. “Forget her, Di. Don't let some wannabe socialite ruin your mood on your big day.”

Dianne took a deep breath and calmed down. “Thanks, Nad. Oh, by the way, where did Mark take you last night? I don't remember you coming back here.”

“Just someplace near here. We fell asleep and woke up at around 3. That's when I came back.”

“Did you hook up with him?” Amanda asked in surprise so you denied it.

“No! God no. We really just slept. I was drunk and it seems like he was too. Mark would never hook up with me, Mandy.”

“How would we know that when you won't even spare us the details of your breakup.”

You huffed and finished fixing your hair. “This is your wedding day, Dianne. Let's not ruin it with useless accounts of the past.”

“She's right. Let's live in the now.” Nadine started sobbing again when Dianne was done dressing up. “Dianne! I'm so happy for you!”

The sky was clear when you stepped out of the House. Three white cars were waiting for you and you each got into your assigned vehicle, wishing Dianne good luck before heading to the church. The entourage was waiting. The entrance and the ceremony began as soon as Dianne's car rolled in. You found Mark in his place and you rushed over to him, noticing how he offered his arm for you to hold on to as you practiced and even sparing you a small smile before looking ahead. After receiving nothing but a cold shoulder all week, this small gesture of acknowledgment sure made you happy.

“I don't hate you,” he had told you the night before while you two were sitting in the dark by the cove. “I'm just upset, that's all.”

You didn't have a reply to that and you were grateful that he didn't ask for any. It did make things less tense between you. You both were even smiling at everyone as you walked down the aisle together before parting to sit where you were assigned to. The ceremony wasn't slow but it wasn't fast either. As soon as Dianne walked in through the huge church doors, all eyes turned to her and few gasps of amazement were heard. As she drew nearer, you saw Owen wipe a few tears and that made your heart swell with emotions. You realized that even though you believed you hated everyone here, you wouldn't have wanted to miss this important day.

Vows were exchanged and they kissed in front of their loved ones to formally announce their marriage. Pictures were taken too and as soon as you went back to the Friends House, the commissioned photographer had you take a whole hour of pictorial by the beach. You had fun with all of them, the laughter and chatter had you feeling like you got transported back to your college days when you were the happiest.

It was past 9pm when Owen and Dianne left for their honeymoon. The party was swell as they had intended and it didn't end even after they were gone. There aren’t that many people now, just a couple of younger ones who can handle partying until late at night. Stan has turned the entire thing into a frat party and was by the wine table downing the makeshift keg he had set up with a few other guys. The girls were still dancing around to the music but you were getting bored and tired after Nadine slipped away with some guy. Amanda was flirting with someone on the newlywed's chair. You thought about going back to your room but you were assuming that it was where Nadine took her hook up so you decided against it. That was when you decided to go to the cove.

It was dark and it was supposed to be scary out there but you didn't think that at all. You had your phone out, using it as a flashlight as you ventured through the trees. You even took your shoes off when it proved difficult to walk in them on the sand. And as you reached the small open space, you let out a sigh of relief. You were just about to sit in your usual spot when you heard the rustle of leaves behind you which put you on high alert. But then the intruder came out and you saw that it was Mark.

“Mark?”

“Hey,” he greeted nonchalantly, walking past you to sit on the sand by the boulder.

You stood there awkwardly until he noticed you and tapped the space beside him as an invitation for you to sit. “Did you come here to just stand there?”

“Did you follow me here?”

“So, what if I did? The space is not exclusive to you, is it?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes before sitting in the space next to him. When you glanced at him, you caught a whiff of alcohol and frowned.

“Are you drunk?”

“Aren't you? It's a party,” he smarted.

Of course, you're not. You even avoided the sight of alcohol after your embarrassing stint last night.

“You don't seem drunk,” you observed so he glanced at you, your faces were about half a foot in distance.

“That's because I'm not,” he smirked. “I had a few bottles. Not enough to have me clinging on my ex.”

“Mark Lee!” You slapped his knee, frowning at him for reminding you of that. Mark just laughed, content to get a rise out of you.

“Seeing me after five years didn't even affect you one bit but you're getting mad about that?” He smirked. “Good. At least I got a reaction out of you.”

“What?”

He huffed and clenched his jaw, looking away in the direction of the sea. You had long turned off your flashlight but the moon was shining high above so your surroundings were still visible. You can even see the slight changes in Mark's expressions, including the pained look on his face that he tried to hide with a frown.

“I'm sorry,” you mumbled, taking your eyes off his face.

“No, you're not.”

“Really, I am,” you insisted. “I realized a long time ago how messed up that was. I shouldn't have done that to you.”

“A long time ago?” he asked so you nodded without looking at him. “Then why didn't you come back?”

“I couldn't, Mark. Not when I already had enough guts to leave.”

“That wasn't fair, y/n.”

You glanced at him and saw that he had been looking at you the whole time. You were hesitating to continue the conversation and deep in your mind, you were wondering how you both ended up talking about this, only to realize you brought it up first. “I know that, Mark. I just...” You gave up trying to explain and just huffed.

“What? You're not even gonna explain yourself? After all these years you'd still shut me out? Don't I deserve to know how I ended up getting hurt when all I ever did was love you?”

You folded your legs together and buried your face in your palms, the surge of emotions coming onto you like a freight train. The pain and guilt that you buried deep in your memory for years is now screaming right at your face as if instead of dying, it grew roots and branches and leaves.

“Why did you do that?”

Yeah, why did you?

You were huffing as you rushed out of the taxi cab and ran straight in the direction of that hell-hole of a house. As soon as you reached the door, you pounded on it nonstop, demanding your aunt to come out and talk to you. It opened soon after, revealing an intoxicated man.

“What are you doing here, you ungrateful bitch?” your uncle spat but you brushed past him into the living room.

Your aunt was laughing in front of the television, a cigarette in her hand and a few bottles of alcohol on the coffee table.

“Did you do it?”

She didn't even look at you. “Do what? Be specific when you're asking questions.”

“My salary from the diner. Did you cash it out?”

She appeared to think. “Oh, the diner? Yeah. Yes, I did. Just a few months’ worth. We're behind on the water bill you see.” She pointed at the stack of mail on top of the cabinet by the doorway.

You grabbed them and saw several pieces of mail from the water provider. You took a deep breath to calm down but your voice still cracked. “Why would you do that?”

“I told you. We needed money for the water.”

“But that was for my tuition.”

“It's okay, I'll pay you back.”

“Aunt, you never pay me back! You always say you do, but you never ever paid me back!” you hollered at her, now straight-up crying.

Your uncle rounded the living room and hit the back of your head. “Keep your voice down in my house!”

You watched as he sat next to your aunt on the couch and took a bottle of beer. You were still crying and they didn't even seem to care one bit.

“Auntie, please,” you pleaded. “An advance of three months? What else would I be getting from that? I need to pay for school. I need to feed myself too!”

For the first time since you arrived, your aunt looked at you with disdain. “And are we supposed to just live without a water supply? What's gonna happen to us? The house is gonna reek!”

“It already reeks even with running water!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, shaking in anger.

“Why are you screaming so early?” your uncle threw a bottle at you that barely missed your head.

You froze with your eyes widened in shock, horrified that you had almost been hit right in the face. Sadness suddenly left you, leaving a burning rage in your heart. You felt like you would convulse as rage rose to your head. Your eyes were bulging and the sight of them looking unconcerned is making your heart explode. You crumpled the pieces of mail in your hand and lunged at the table to flip it over. You grabbed the baseball bat from its fixture on the wall and started hitting the alcohol bottles, breaking them to pieces while your aunt and uncle screamed in terror and bewilderment at your actions. As soon as you had your fill of violence, you stood up in the middle of the living room, huffing contentedly before dropping the bat.

“Y/n! What are you doing? You almost gave me a heart attack!” Your aunt chided and you're now convinced she's too drunk to make sense of what was actually happening.

“You can both drop dead. I don't care.”

You left the house feeling like shit. It reeked so much there that you had to smell yourself to make sure it didn't stick on you. You spat on the ground, disgusted when you think about how you managed to live in that place for a long time. Your eyes were still wet with tears when you noticed the crumpled mail in your hand. You stopped walking to look at it, recognizing the crest of a university you applied to a year ago, at the beginning of your freshman year in college. It was addressed to you and you opened it to read the contents. Your mind focused on the large letters right below the long introductory line and covered your mouth in surprise.

“We are pleased to inform you that your application had been approved!”

You sat on your heels, weeping in utter happiness after what you've just read. You immediately fished out your phone and dialed the number on the letter, afraid to waste another moment, especially after finding out that the letter had been mailed to you over five months ago. You talked to the woman on the phone who seemed delighted to hear from you.

“Yeah, I lost it in my stack of mail because I recently changed my address. I was wondering if the offer still stands?”

“Of course! We only welcome freshmen applicants who passed but for those who received an offer, we are inclined to accept sophomores too.”

You were sure the woman on the other line could hear you crying as you thanked her. She hung up after a polite goodbye and a promise to see you in New York by the start of the fall semester. You wiped your tears and composed yourself as you continued walking. But as soon as you walked out of the house's unkempt picket fence, you saw Mark come out of a corner.

“Babe!” he grinned when he spotted you. “There you are! I was looking for you!”

You felt nervous all of a sudden, wondering why he was there and how he knew you'd be in this part of the city.

“Mark—” You couldn't even finish your speech when the voice of your screaming uncle made you glance back to the house. He was angrily calling your name, waving a baseball bat in the air as he screamed that you're a wicked bitch for making a mess in his house. You grabbed Mark by the hand and pulled him out of there, not stopping until you reached the highway.

“What's going on? Who was that?”

“No one,” you panted, holding onto your knees as you caught your breath. “That's no one.”

“He called you a bitch. What's going on baby? Do you know that man?” He helped you up and lifted your chin so you were looking at him. As soon as he saw your tear-stained face, he pulled you into a tight hug. “Hey? What's wrong? What happened? I'm here, y/n. You can tell me.”

“Nothing, Mark. I'm fine,” you argued, your voice breaking as you tried to pull away from his hug. You hit his arms when he wouldn't let go. “Let me go!”

Mark did as you asked, backing away a few paces to give you space. “Okay. Just tell me what's going on. Is he related to you? Did he hurt you? What are you doing on this side of town? You know there are a lot of thugs around here.”

You took a deep breath and looked right at him. “This is where I live, Mark.”

Mark seemed surprised, but the worry on his face didn't leave as he approached to hold your shoulders again.

“Is that man your dad? Is he hurting you?” He scanned your body for any sign of injury. When he looked at your shoulder, he stopped to gaze into your eyes. “The bruise on your shoulder from before, was that by him?”

“He's not my dad.” You shook his hands off of you. “My parents are dead.”

Mark's mouth hung open. “Why didn't you tell me that?”

You felt upset when he asked that. All of a sudden, you were flooded by the feeling of helplessness and loneliness that you endured ever since your parents passed away when you were 15. You blamed them for leaving you behind and letting your aunt and uncle treat you like shit. You blamed them for leaving you to suffer by yourself. And you blamed them because you were lonely and sad for a long time. Meeting Mark was a good way to forget about the immense sadness. But now, even that has been tainted by the loss of your parents.

“Why? So you'd pity me? So you can keep thinking about it and look at me like how you're doing right now?”

“Babe—”

“Or what? So you can decide if I am qualified to be in your life or not?”

“Baby!” Mark scolded. “I did not say that!”

“Then what is it? Did you want to know so you can see if I can make you happy while bringing out the best in you?” you spat, his mom’s words echoing in your head.

“Hey,” he called lovingly as reached for you again but you dodged. “What are you talking about?”

“I'm done, Mark. It's over.”

Mark sighed and held your hand. “Come on. You're emotional. Let's go get some air. We'll talk after you feel a little better.”

“Where are you taking me, Mark? To your fancy house? To that fancy hotel that you paid for with your dad's money?”

“Baby, please. Don't do this.”

“Or, or are you taking me to that damned cove because I'm so easy and I'd let you fuck me anywhere?”

Mark stopped walking and stared at you dead in the eyes. The look almost made you wake up from your angry stupor but you just scoffed.

“Did I hit a nerve?”

“Y/n, why are you doing this?”

“I'm done, Mark. We're done. So please, leave me alone.”

You walked on the opposite side of the road while Mark chased after you.

“Don't push me away, y/n. Come on! Let's talk about this. You're upset right now. Let's talk when you're a little bit calmer!”

But you paid him no mind and got into the taxi cab that stopped in front of you when you called for it.

Mark never gives up. You know that and you loved that about him. But now that he's not giving up on you, you feel suffocated. He kept blowing your phone so much that you had to block him. He cornered you in your classes that you stopped attending. You even pulled out of the junior librarian job because he was there. It's all good because you're leaving after the semester anyway. You spent the days filling out forms and preparing yourself for New York. Dianne was kind enough to lend you money without asking why and you were able to pay off your advances from the diner before you quit your job there. You promised her you'd pay her but she told you not to worry too much and take your time. Mark had been camping out of the dorms and several times you saw him get kicked out by the dorm lady. You've been cooped up in the building, not leaving to avoid running into him.

You realized after that confrontation with Mark that you were horrible to him. You were mean and cruel and he didn't deserve any of that. You were upset and justifiably so, but Mark shouldn't have been at the receiving end of your rage. Unfortunately, he was at the wrong place at the wrong time. You didn't mean anything you said about him, especially the part where you want to break up. But as you thought about it for days, you realized it was better to break it off with him. You're not planning on coming back here anyway.

Your school announced your departure just before the day you leave. It was great news to be offered a spot in such a prestigious school that your university had to make a big announcement out of it. It was mainly Spencer's idea and the school administration was on board with it. That was how your friends found out that you were leaving. Mark too.

“New York? That's amazing!” Nadine told you while you were at the diner the night before you left.

“I'm friends with a genius. How great is that?” Stan was fake crying as he hugged you. You couldn't help smiling at the support from your friends. But then the bells of the door rang and you turned to see Mark entering the diner.

Stan let go of you and smiled sheepishly. “I hope you don't mind I invited Mark. I mean, I know you broke up and all but hey, he's still your friend, right?”

“You two broke up?” Timmy exclaimed, followed by gasps of surprise from Nadine and Dianne.

“Y/n! Is it true?”

Stan looked surprised. “You guys didn't know? I thought everyone knew.”

“Did Mark tell you that?” Nadine asked.

“Mark?!” your friends turned to him.

“No. I kinda just assumed it. I haven't seen them together for days and y/n haven't hung out with us for a while too so I thought they broke up,” Stan explained.

Dianne started laughing and turned to Owen. “Hey, didn't we have a transaction we need to take care of?”

“Transaction?”

“The books, Owen. For the library. Let's go. We have to take care of it now.” She turned to you and said, “Congratulations, sweetie. Sorry, but we have to go now. Those books are really really important.”

Nadine and Timmy stood up too. “You know what, I think I'll go study for the exams.”

“I thought the exams were over?” Stan questioned and Timmy glowered him knowingly.

“Unlike our smart y/n, I have to retake a few subjects.”

“I'm sleepy as heck,” Nadine added.

You sighed as your friends came up with the lamest excuses to leave but you didn't want to interfere. Maybe it's for the best that you have this final talk with Mark anyway. He deserved that much.

“I guess I'll leave you two alone to talk,”

Stan said, taking his bag and waving goodbye.

Mark sat right next to you, hugging you on your side and burying his face in the crook of your neck. He stayed still like that for a moment and you felt your heart melting into the warmth of his embrace. A part of you is wishing he wouldn't let go and that you can just stay that way forever.

“I love you,” he whispered, just as you started feeling the wetness on your shoulder. Mark's crying. For the first time, you're seeing Mark cry.

You made a move to get him off of you but he tightened his hold.

“Please,” he begged and you swallowed the lump in your throat to stop yourself from crying.

You stayed like that for a while, letting him hug you while you stroke his back affectionately. Eventually, you realized you couldn't stay in that diner all night, so you left and he walked you to your dorm, holding your hand in his tightly, like he was scared to let go. He stopped you from entering the dorm, knowing he wouldn't be allowed inside but you gave him a smile.

“It's okay. The dorm lady said I can bring you inside for my last night on campus.”

It was true. When you surrendered some of the dorm stuff that you needed to return before leaving, the dorm lady congratulated you for making it to NYU. She also told you that you could bring in your heartbroken boyfriend who had been sitting outside the dorm for days now. It will be her way to wish you good luck in New York. Mark saw that it was true when the dorm lady smiled at the two of you by the entrance and warned you not to wake everyone. You were still hand-in-hand even as you entered your now empty dorm room. The only thing intact was the bed and the sheets weren't even yours anymore but the dorm's.

“I'll go wash up. Have a seat,” you told him but he hugged you from behind, refusing to let you out of his sight.

You ended up lying in bed with Mark, looking into each other's eyes as he played with your hair. There was a pain in his eyes that he failed to hide and you were trying not to break down crying in front of him.

“Please tell me this is the reason why you're breaking up with me.”

“No,” you answered truthfully.

“Baby...” he pleaded, forehead creasing as he did. “It's okay. New York is far but we can make it work. I'll come to you from time to time.”

“Mark, it's not that.”

“Then what is it?” he demanded. “I love you, y/n. I loved you so much. I have loved you for an entire year and each day I spent loving you, I saw no reason to stop.”

“I know that. I love you too.”

Mark's face lit up. “You do?”

“I do. More than anything.”

Mark kissed you right then, pulling you into his embrace so you were flush against his body. You kissed him back, realizing at the time just how much you missed him. Your kisses got deeper and noisier, getting into your heads as he rolled over to cage you underneath him. He pulled away for a few seconds, looking into your eyes and seeing nothing but your love for him.

“I love you, y/n.”

“I love you, Mark.”

And so, your last night in the university, in the city, ended with Mark inside you, raw, steady, sensual, and gentle with the right amount of aggression. Just like how you would remember him to be for the next few years.

“I have to leave, Mark,” you told him outside the airport. He drove you from your city to next where the airport was, holding your hand and humming happily to the song. Mark woke up feeling great today, unaware of the truth that you're keeping from him. You know it was cruel, you know you'd break him to pieces, but your selfishness won't let you leave without seeing him for the last time. Even in your final few seconds here, you wanted to be with Mark.

“I know. But you'll come back. I can wait,” he chimed, kissing the back of your hand. You were in his car, parked outside the airport and he had been showering you with his love and innocent little kisses the whole time.

“No,” you croaked, eyes stinging when tears threatened to fall from them. “I'm not coming back.”

Mark frowned, chuckling. “What do you mean? Why not?”

“There's nothing for me to come back to,” you confessed, swallowing your tears to put on the cruel persona that you've prepared.

“Baby, I'm here. What do you mean there's nothing to come back to?”

You just shook your head and he stared at you for a while to see if you were lying. You didn't back down.

“Not even me?” he finally asked so you looked away, one hand ready to open the door on your side.

“Not even you.”

When your plane left that day, you also left everything behind. Your friends, your past, the things that you don't need, and the ones that you need. You left the one you needed the most, the boy you loved and never stopped loving until now, the most beautiful boy you've ever known. Your Mark Lee.

“I loved you, you know. I was down from the start, even when you haven’t told me anything about you,” Mark began, eyes shifting back to the sea. “I would have loved you for whoever you are. I showed you who I am. All of it, even the ones that I considered were bad, you loved me for them. I would have done the same.”

“That's easy for you to say, Mark.”

“And I would have proven it!” he roared, glowering at you for a moment before looking away again. “You didn't give me the chance, y/n.”

“I'm sorry. I was scared.”

“I understand that. But I welcomed you into my life. I made you an important part of my world,” he paused and looked at you with a mixture of hatred and pain on his face. “You made me a fantasy you dive into when you want to escape your misery, y/n. I understand why you'd do that, but you shut me out when all I ever did was love you, support you, and be there for you! None of it would have mattered. I would've supported you when you left! I would’ve gone to you once you decide to never come back I would've fought those assholes for you!”

“I didn't need you to do that, Mark. I just needed you to be you. I wouldn't have asked for any of that.”

“Fine. I get it,” he grunted. “You didn't trust me enough to share your struggles with me. But if I had known about it, if I had known you left because of it, I wouldn't have spent all these years hating you when I loved you so much.”

You stared at him, processing his words in your head. It felt like your mind was firing up with all the information you were getting. But your eyes found his lips and you couldn't even think to stop yourself before you pulled his collar and kissed him. He kissed you right back, aggressively, torridly, biting and sucking without mercy. When you pulled away, overwhelmed by his aggression, he smirked at you.

“You haven't changed at all, have you? Do you still like grabbing people by the collar?” he asked, obviously not looking for an answer when he kissed you again, lifting you to sit across his lap while he unzipped the back of your dress.

You let his hand wander, even arching your back when his lips traveled to your chest. He sucked your skin, bruising it and leaving marks all over you while you moan and grind on his hips.

“Oh, Mark!” you whimpered, grinding faster and harder against his clothed cock. Mark hitched your dress up, pulling your underwear down and thumbing your clit.

“That's right, baby. Call my name,” he smirked. “Call my name. I bet you missed that, huh? Or did you meet another Mark back there?”

You moved to unbuckle his belt but he stopped you, gently slapping your hand away and chuckling. He took off his coat and placed it on the sand before laying you down there. When his weight left you, you called for him, making him grin cockily as he stripped you off of your underwear. You watched as he unbuttoned his pants and let it fall to his knees.

“Turn around.”

“What?”

“Turn around, on your hands and knees.”

You felt humiliated being ordered around like that, but that didn't get in your head and instead, turned you on. There was something about Mark right now that is unfamiliar to you. Has he changed over the years? It doesn't matter, you were too lost in your lust to think about it and just want him inside of you.

A scream tore out of you when he suddenly pushed his cock in, roughly, without warning. He covered your mouth while you winced in pain, feeling like you had been brought back to the first time you ever had sex, which was with Mark as well.

“Does it hurt?” he asked in your ear, his voice mean and menacing. “Good. You probably deserved it.”

He started bucking his hips, thrusting violently into you. You should be angry, but you're only crying in so much pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he grabbed a fistful of your hair. He slapped your ass cheek once, and then twice, and several times again because each time he did you let out the lewdest, naughtiest moan he's ever heard. You were dirty because of lust, because of Mark. And you didn't mind, you liked it. You liked how he ravaged your skin with bruises caused by his intense kisses. You liked how your ass is stinging with each spank. You liked how he's drilling into you and thrusting hard like there's no tomorrow. You liked the disrespect and the bouts of pleasure that it sent through your entire body.

“Cum, baby. Don't be shy, let it go,” he ridiculed when your cries turned into faint whimpers. “I said do it!”

He thrusted roughly into you and that sent you into a spiraling orgasm that had you collapsing on weakened limbs. Mark stopped, letting you fall limp on his coat before gently turning your body so you were lying on your back. He wiped the sweat on your forehead and tucked away the hair that gathered on your face. Then he planted one tender kiss on your forehead.

“I'm sorry,” he said softly, laying his head on your chest. “Was it too much?”

“Why? You can't handle it?” you challenged so Mark lifted his head. He looked at you with a deadpan expression.

“How are you still atrocious with your words?”

“How are you still obsessed with my body?” you retorted and Mark shrugged.

“To be fair, it's an immaculate body.”

“And your dick is still hard,” you pointed out. Mark smirked at you and positioned himself on top of you.

“So I can fuck you into oblivion but you'd still have enough audacity to get smart with me?”

You just giggled while Mark leaned to kiss you. He prodded your entrance again, taking a few test penetrations before doing it fully as if he hadn't already left you wet and overly lubricated with your own juices. Mark fucked you again, this time in a way that's more like Mark, like how you remembered it to be. When he started losing strength in his arms and his movement became erratic, you knew he was close so you wrapped your legs around his torso, telling him to keep going. Mark went faster and harder until he pushed his very last thrust and came inside of you. You bit your lip, satisfied by the sex and even more so by the look on his face. You missed this man so much and you also missed how you can reduce him into such a mess with just your body.

“If I get you pregnant, that's on you,” he quipped, laying on top of you. You giggled, wrapping your arms around him. “I guess that's fine too because you'll have to marry me. I don't want my child to grow up with a broken family.”

“Well first, how do you know I'd keep it?”

“I don't, but assuming you would, I won't let him grow up without me.”

“And second, that's not gonna happen because I take birth control religiously.”

He lifted his head and frowned at you. “Do you sleep around in New York?”

You scoffed at the intrusive question and he shook his head briskly and pressed his cheek on your chest again.

“No, never mind. Don't tell me. You could have had a hundred boyfriends there, I don't care. You're here right now, so that's all that matters.”

You pushed him off of you but he wouldn't budge. “For the record, you were so obsessed with me before that I had to regularly take birth control pills. It just became a habit. I haven't been sleeping around, unlike someone I know.”

“Are you accusing me?”

“If the shoe fits.”

Mark just laughed as he stood up to put his pants back on. He then helped you up and gave you your underwear that he had kept out of the sand by placing it safely on the rock. He also helped you zip your dress back up before nuzzling on your neck.

“You smell different.”

“Perfume.”

“Yeah. I like it.”

“You like this perfume?”

“No. I like whatever you wear as long as it's your skin.”

You scoffed and pushed Mark away. “Hey, aren't you supposed to be mad at me right now?”

He shook his head and pulled you back into his embrace. “I don't care about any of that now.”

“Ah, so sex solves everything?”

“Of course not. But I do know you wouldn't have sex with me if you didn't still have feelings for me.”

“Presumptuous.”

“Was I wrong? As far as I know, you hate casual hookups.”

“That was before. How do you know I never hooked up in the last few years?”

“I do know you never dated anyone after me,” he grinned confidently and you were dumbfounded. “Why was that?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Stanley needs to zip his mouth, seriously.”

You huffed, leaning on his chest and letting him inhale more of your scent.

“I'm sorry, baby,” he cooed after a few minutes just quietly cuddling. “I'm sorry that I wasn't the safe haven you needed me to be.”

“No, I am sorry for hurting you. You didn't deserve that. You've been nothing but good to me. And somewhere along the way, you were too good for me and I tend to ruin everything that is good.”

Mark buried his face on your neck again.

“I kept thinking about you, you know. That's why I never really moved on. I kept thinking that maybe if I opened up to you it wouldn't be hard to give this city a chance. Maybe if I let you in, we could be happy even when I'm away. Maybe if I trusted you to accept me for who I am, I wouldn't be so miserable.”

“What if we try again?”

“Mark, I can't possibly put you through that again,” you complained, turning to face him but he captured your lips, shutting you up until you were weak and vulnerable underneath him again.

Your stay was extended and during that, you let Mark reel you in, showering you with the love he wished he had given you during those missed times. Your days were filled with reminiscing and reliving your youth by revisiting the old places you used to go to and doing the things you used to love doing with him. It was fun and you found yourself wishing time would stop for the two of you. Sometimes you think about not leaving, but you know there is no life for you here. Your love for Mark may be a valid reason to stay, but love alone is not enough to be content with your life. You have already established yourself in New York and that's where you are content with your life. The happiness part is still a work in progress, but you've achieved a lot so far and you can't risk all of that for love alone.

On your last day in the city, a lawyer came looking for you in your hotel room and told you about an inheritance. The visit prompted you to visit your old house, now abandoned after your uncle went to jail and your aunt died of lung cancer caused by secondhand smoking a few years ago. You were told that it is yours now, given that you were her only living relative and your uncle doesn't qualify because they were never married. You have a choice to keep it or sell it. You decided to sell it, not even hesitating. You never had fond memories there anyway.

“Wow, how long has this place been abandoned?” Mark asked as he followed you inside. The place was clean and you assumed they had it cleaned out after your aunt died. You've been told she died in the hospital but she also had a bad case of hoarding junk and the house was a complete mess before authorities were called in. Despite the neat appearance, cobwebs covered the ceilings and dust sat on every piece of furniture, a sign that no one had lived there for a long time.

“Long enough,” you replied, walking towards your bedroom. Even that was cleaned up. Nothing else remained except for a few pieces of furniture that had always been there. You didn't waste time reminiscing or looking around because you knew there was nothing to find there. You took everything important to you when you left so there really is nothing else to take.

Except maybe for the picture on the wall. One that is of your mother and your aunt. They look so much like each other with just a few distinguishing pictures. You took it from the wall and dusted it, tucking it on your side before turning to Mark. You gave him a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

“Let's go?”

“Let's go,” he nodded, offering his hand for you to hold on to.

You thought you would have a breakdown in there once you remember everything that pained you and everything that ruined your girlhood. You thought you'd fall back into the abyss of misery, but you didn't. You didn't even feel anything at all other than a slight tug when you saw your mother's picture. The house will be sold and you will never need to go back there again. Ever.

“Time to go,” Mark smiled at you after he dropped you off at the airport.

“It's been fun, Mark,” you told him, smiling bitterly at the thought of leaving your love behind. Again.

Mark laughed derisively as if trying to deny the situation. “No. Not again, y/n. I thought we're gonna work this out?”

“I've made a life for myself there, Mark. There's nothing for me here.”

“Me? I am here.”

You sighed, reaching to touch his cheek. “If I could, I'd take you with me anywhere. I want you as much as I want the life I've been dreaming of. But I've made big leaps, Mark. I can't jump back down.”

“I understand. But would you think about it? You don't have to live here. We can make this work, you know. I can go to you.”

“It won't make me feel any better to know that you're sacrificing your own life for me,” you sighed.

“I'm not. I'm making my own choices.”

You just smiled and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. “I love you.”

“I'll call you.”

“Sure. You can do that.”

He scooped you up in a hug and kissed you before you went to board your plane.

Two weeks in, you met Nadine for brunch in New York. She had been complaining about losing you to Mark so she travelled just to see you.

“So, you're like, LDR?”

“The LD part, yes. But we're not really in a relationship. He wants to, but I kept discouraging it.”

“Why?”

You gave her a stern gaze. “Because we're grown adults now, Nadine. We can't casually date around anymore.”

“Of course we can. But you won't because you're thinking of dating with the prospect of marriage.”

“No, I'm not.”

“Not explicitly, but you're doing it subconsciously,” she argued, pointing to her temple. “I can hear it in your tone.”

“Since when were you an expert on my tone?” you ridiculed, shaking your head.

“Since college? You never really changed that much, hun.”

You shook your head again, giving up on the argument and eating your food. Nadine checked her phone for a second and pointed out the date.

“Today's the 17th. Mark should be here by now,” she quipped, showing you her screen.

“In New York? Why?” you questioned, curious.

“Yeah. The last time we talked, he said he'd fly back on the 15th. Why do you think I chose now to come? So we could all meet up.”

“I'm sorry, fly back? Why would he be flying back?”

Nadine looked at you in surprise. “You don't know? He never told you?”

“No. He never told me anything about coming here.”

Nadine dropped his fork and covered her mouth in surprise. “Oh my god, I wonder why he didn't? He's been living here since last year. He got a job in an art museum.”

“He did what?”

Nadine sighed and shook her head disapprovingly. “For someone who's big on career and aspirations, you seem to not care about Mark's at all.”

“Hey, I do. We just don't talk about that stuff,” you defended, taking your phone out to see if he ever mentioned coming to New York.

Indeed, you don't talk about careers, mainly because you were reluctant to tell him you were doing so well as a professor and you didn't want to hear he has a good, stable job back home. Hearing that would make you feel even more upset about the fact that he can't leave that city and you can't go back either. So you avoided it. But why wouldn't he even mention that he's literally in the same state as you are when he knows it's a big deal for you?

Nadine told you where Mark worked and what his job was, then you headed there right after brunch. You realized it wasn't even that far and you're not just in the same state but in the same city! Just a couple blocks from your workplace was the museum where Mark worked as an art curator. And ever since last year, you have visited that museum more than a dozen times as a field study with some students. You walked in there, looking around the familiar building. When you spotted a lady who looked like a staff, you approached her to ask.

“Hi. I'm looking for Mark Lee. He's an art curator here, I believe,” you began and she gave you a kind look of discouragement.

“I'm sorry, but it won't be possible to meet an executive staff without an appointment. May I know what this is for? Maybe I can arrange something.”

You took out your ID and showed it to her. “I'm an Art professor. I just have a few things to discuss with him.”

“Oh, Miss y/n! I know you,” she smiled at you. “You're from NYU. If you would just follow me through here, I'll show you to his office.”

You thanked her and followed her into the elevator that brought you up several floors up the building.

“Mr. Lee is fairly new here but he's done a pretty good job so far. Everyone's just amazed at his efficiency and his knowledge of Art History,” she told you as you walked through a corridor and a few offices before she stopped in front of one door with Mark's name on it.

“Mr. Lee is right here, in this office.”

The staff knocked and called out to him. When you heard Mark's voice from inside, you felt your heart jump nervously in your chest.

“Go ahead.”

You walked through the door and found Mark buried in some papers. When he looked up, his eyes widened in recognition of you and he immediately stood up to approach you.

"Hi!" he blurted, amazement evident on his face.

“Hey,” you greeted shyly, looking around his office. He pulled you into a tight hug and whispered how much he missed you several times.

“What are you doing in my workplace?” You couldn't help but smile at the sudden surge of nostalgia.

“Stalking you?”

He seemed to remember the same thing because he laughed. “Are you a regular here?”

“Yes but, I actually came to stalk you.”

“You're a really pretty stalker.”

Mark halted his work, calling for a break before he took you to a sandwich place across the street. Then you sat on a bench in front of a fountain that was also right in front of his workplace. He told you he was swamped with work as soon as he came back and he'd been meaning to surprise you if you hadn't surprised him first. He also said he knew you were a regular and that you always came from time to time to tour your students. But at the time, he was still pretty mad at you, so he just sneaked peeks at you.

“Like a stalker?” you quipped, making him laugh just as he was trying to drink.

“No, not in a creepy stalkerish way. But yeah, I guess.”

You smiled absent-mindedly, watching him eat through his sandwich like he had been starved. It was an adorable sight and the emotions filling your heart were satisfying and beautiful.

He soon noticed you gawking. “Oh, sorry. I skipped breakfast.”

“Why are you curating art?” you asked instead of responding to his apology.

“What do you mean? It's my job.”

“You're the art.”

Mark burst out laughing again for a good minute, hitting his thigh several times while you wore a smug smile, proud to have made him laugh so much.

“Sorry,” he blurted but then he started laughing again. “Gosh, y/n. You're a really bad flirt.”

“But I'm a good comedienne,” you boasted before taking a bite from your sandwich.

Mark started laughing again and you happily watched, looking out at the sky. The two of you sat on that bench, hand in hand, eating an amazing New York sandwich. Together, somewhere far from your old city, somewhere you can both be happy.

“Oh, god, I love you,” he blurted as soon as he recovered from too much laughing.

“Say that again.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

“I love you.”

You giggled. “One more time.”

“I love you.”

“That's nice. Again.”

“Alright. Now you're just messing with me!”

“Say it, Mark Lee!”

“I love you!”

[Fin]

#nct x you #mark lee x you #mark lee smut #nct smut #mark lee fluff #nct x reader #nct fluff #nct au #mark lee au #mark lee angst #nct fanfic #calcali

[bl00dst41ned]

*.·:·.✦ lost and found ✦.·:·.*

pairing: jude bellingham x female oc (named Ryan)

summary: in which Jude makes an awesome discovery

author's note: watched Paddington yesterday and it inspired me this. Jude lives in my mind rent free yet, I'm never writing him.

word count: 1085

The night felt refreshing in the streets of Madrid. Spain was known for its suffocating temperature. To get some air, you had to wait until after sunset. Which is what Jude and his girlfriend, Ryan decided to do. They wandered, hand in hand, observing their new place of residence.

“We should try that” Ryan pointed to the small restaurant selling empanadas.

They entered with no hesitation, greeted in Spanish by the worker. Once they debated on which one to choose, Ryan ordered, in broken Spanish, two different flavours for them to try. The two sat on a bench nearby, to enjoy their little snack, engaging in a small conversation about the new life they were beginning.

Following Jude’s signing to Real Madrid, he asked his longtime partner if she was willing to live with him. Ryan and he had been together since they were 15. She supported him through every big step in his career. Except, for this new one, Jude wanted her to physically be with him every day. Three months later, Ryan had packed her bags to join him.

The couple were now picking up new habits and trying to accustom to the Madrid life.

“So….How’s your Duolingo lessons going?”

Ryan basically forced Jude to learn basic Spanish. For now, he relied on her for every social interaction even though she was not fluent. And she could tell he was comfortable like that and didn’t want it to change.

“Alright I guess” Jude shrugged, rubbing his right eye, something he always did when he was lying to her. Which she knew, too well.

“Jude” Ryan sighed, Jude instantly chuckling, knowing she had caught him. “This green owl has been asking me where you at for the past week”

Somehow Jude had forgotten that the app was on her iPad and connected to her email.

He tried as hard as he could to contain his laugh but failed miserably.

“Don’t laugh” She playfully hit his shoulder, smiling. “You hurt her so much, she stopped texting me”

He stopped and laughed pulling his head down.

“Yeah I went too far, I’ll do it tomorrow”

Once they finished eating, they got up and continued walking. As Ryan observed the architecture around, Jude had come to a halt. She felt her arm being pulled and looked back in confusion.

“What are y- Shhhhh” Jude shushed her with his index finger.

He seemed to be trying to hear something so Ryan just did the same. He let go of her hand now walking towards the sound. He looked behind a flower pot finding what he looked for. He crouched down, Ryan’s curiosity rising. She came behind him checking what had his attention.

There lay a tiny kitten, letting out small meows anybody could barely hear. He seemed to be born recently since his eyes were closed. Jude took him in his hand, slowly petting him.

“Can we bring it home?”

“Jude, he surely has a mother somewhere”

“But…look at him” He looked at her with a pout showing her the kitten on his palm.

“We need to make sure he doesn’t have an owner”

Ryan tried to be rational despite wanting it as much as he did. Obviously, she didn’t want to leave him to die there. They looked around the area, looking for his mother or other kittens somewhere, before being interrupted by a voice.

“El dueño se alejó y los dejó’ An elder woman spoke lowly in Spanish, trying to mimic what she meant, hearing them speak English. “Este debe haber escapado”

With the few words she understood, Ryan figured this kitten had been abandoned. She let Jude know what she said, making him smile since he got to take it home.

They walked back to their home, Jude covering the kitten with both hands, checking on him every now and then. Ryan, on the other side, searched the internet for what they should do to take care of it.

They arrived back home and instantly went to keep the kitten warm. They grabbed a shoe box putting an old shirt inside it. Jude, who had not put down the small animal any time, carefully dropped him off.

Jude took the responsibility to feed him. He poured a bit of water on a spoon carefully as the kitten drank as well as he could. It seemed like Ryan and Jude were mesmerized by it. Their eyes were glued on it, not wanting to miss any moment.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” Ryan asked, tired of calling him an “it”.

“Don’t know, we should go to the vet, tomorrow”

There was no doubt about keeping the kitten or not. Jude picked a cloth using it as a blanket for their new pet. 

“You good, Nugget ?” He cooed to the kitten, calling it the first word that came to mind.

That reminded Ryan how Jude would automatically call animals ‘chicken’ or ‘nugget’ just because. He always gave names to beings when he didn’t know theirs. It felt like he didn’t want to offend them even though they did not understand him one bit.

Both of them catered to the tiny animal for an hour, never taking their eyes off it. Once they decided to go to sleep, Jude placed the shoe box between the cushions, a water bottle and a spoon on his nightstand. Ryan came to the room looking at the homemade pet bed.

“Really Jude?” She straight-faced him as he gave an innocent smile. “We don’t need to be glued to it,”

“But we can”

He ignored her pulling the covers over his body and glancing at the box. She decided to just give up and get in the bed too, admiring her boyfriend. Within two hours, Jude had grown so much love for this little being, already obsessed with it.

“Good night, cutie” He spoke in a sleepy voice, his eyes already closed.

“Goodnight, babe” Ryan replied.

“I was talking to Nugget, but goodnight too, love”

Ryan’s mouth fell open for a few until she decided to accept her fate: Nugget had stolen her boyfriend. She could forget about these Duolingo lessons.

like, repost and suggest if you want (requests are closing tomorrow) (hope you enjoyed it)

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#written by bl00dst41ned #black writer #jude bellingham #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x oc #football blurb #football fic #football fluff #football imagine

[discount-shades]

Dead or Alive: Family

Dead or Alive: Sugar and Jake 

A/N: Someone asked if I was going to write about when Sugar told Jake she couldn’t have kids so here it is. It got away from me a bit…

Pairing: Jake Seresin/Reader 

Warning: Trigger Warning: Abortion, Fertility problems, Western themed violence. 

Word Count: 1200 ish

Summary: Some updates on Sugar and Jake after they leave the Dagger Gang.

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Frozen, you stare at the sheets before you. A smear of blood blemishes the otherwise snowy white bed linens. Another month and you were not pregnant. Blinking back tears, you pull out the sanitary belt from where you had tucked it in the back of the drawer before dressing for the day. Your time of the month was only a few days late and as much as you fought against it, as much as you tried to squash it down, you had hoped that this time it would be different. 

Angrily you began to strip the bottom sheet off the bed. You had just put fresh linens on yesterday. Now you had to spend an hour washing and ironing it all again. You dump the sheet in the wash bin on the porch and begin filling it up from the pump by the back door. 

Jake had been away last night. He had spent the evening on guard duty at the local jail cell. You shake your head ruefully at the change in circumstances. Move a few states east and Jake would be the prisoner that needed guarding and not the deputy holding the keys. 

You will never forget the day that the sheriff had arrived at your door. Jake had volunteered to ride in a posse a month earlier and had helped apprehend a man accused of murdering a gold miner a few towns over. You weren't sure of the details, you only know that Jake had saved the sheriff's life. 

When you answered the door the sheriff had held up wanted posters with Jake’s and your real names without saying anything. As you stared into eyes the uncommonly accurate likeness of your own poster you had felt your stomach drop to the floorboards. You tore your eyes away and gazed at the blue sky and the California mountains towering over the small farm you and Jake had built. The dirt road trampled into the dirt led to the idyllic little town you had settled beside. Everything you had ever wanted was right here and you had brushed aside a tear, sure that the jig was up.

You clutched at Jake’s hand as the sheriff spoke. “Before these came in I was planning on asking if you wanted one of these officially.” He had held up a shiny, sliver deputy’s badge to Jake. “I did some thinking and the offer still stands for Mr. Smith.” He used the fake name the two of you had been living under. “Or I’ll allow Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin and his wife one week to leave town, if that is your decision.”

He handed the badge to Jake. “If you want the job Mr Smith, I expect to see you tomorrow and I’ll read you in.” He passed you the posters. “If I do not see you tomorrow I will be back in a week to arrest the both of you.” With a final look that ensured that you and Jake understood his meaning, he tipped his hat and walked away.  

That was seven years ago now and the only thing that had changed was the sheriff was now talking about retiring and had been encouraging Jake to run for sheriff when he did. Your mind returns to the task at hand and you grab the soap and washboard and begin to scrub the stain on the corrugated washboard. Once the mark is as clean as you will get it you wring out the heavy sheet and hang it on the line. Maybe you won’t bother ironing it again. Jake won’t care and no one else would notice if your linens had wrinkles.

After milking the cow and collecting the eggs you head inside and start on breakfast. Jake should be home soon. You are just finishing breakfast when he canters up on the pinto horse he had taken to riding since retiring Jet. The old black gelding now spent his days teaching manners to weanling foals and napping in the shade. You turn to smile at Jake as he walks through the door but your lower lip begins to tremble when you see the look on his face.  He knows what the sheet hanging on the line means. 

Forcing an overly cheery greeting past your lips you turn back to the stove so you don’t have to see the disappointment in his eyes. “It’s scrambled eggs and bacon for breakfast today.” You begin to plate the food, hoping that the familiar routine will calm your emotions.

Jake’s arms wrapping around you finally slows your movements and you lean back into his chest. “It’s never going to happen.” It is easier to speak the thought that has been sitting in your mind for years if you do not have to look him in the eye.

“You don’t know that.” His lips are soft as gently kisses your temple. “It might still happen.”

“No,” You sigh, finally ready to confess the secret you have been keeping from your husband. “It won’t.”

Turning in his arms you look up into his green eyes. “I was pregnant before.” You watch his eyes widen in shock but he doesn’t let you go, in fact he tightens his grip on your waist. “It was before us, I was barely 18.” You continue waiting for him to push you away.

“It was before the quickening, but it had recently been made illegal so a doctor wouldn’t do it.” You can’t read his expression and don’t know if you should continue but find that you are unable to stop. The secret has been eating at you for years. “I tried tansy, pennyroyal, gin, hot baths… but nothing would work, eventually the madam where I was working made it happen.” You brush a tear away and drop your gaze, unable to meet his eye anymore.

“There was an infection. A doctor did treat me for that, and he said I might never be able to get pregnant.” You watch Jake’s chest as he takes a deep breath and sighs it out before pulling you in for a hug. He gently cradles the back of your head as silent tears slip down your face. 

“So it will just be you and me then.” His chest rumbles under your ear at his words and you pull back to meet his eyes sniffing. 

“Are you ok with that?” You search his face as he smiles sadly down at you.

Jake gives a little shrug. “I can imagine my life without children.” He gently kisses your lips. “What I can’t imagine is a life without you, Sugar.”

“You would have been a great father.” You say thinking about seeing him interact with the local school children. 

“And you would have been a great mother.” You brush a tear away at his words but your heart feels lighter at his easy acceptance of your past. You no longer have to pretend that you are expecting to get pregnant. You no longer have to fake anticipation and hope that you have long given up on. 

“I guess it’s just the way it goes sometimes.” You are finally able to bring a small, sad smile to your lips. “Some things are not meant to be.”

#jake seresin #hangman #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin/reader #hangman/reader #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun hangman #topgun maverick #western!au

[rxgirlie]

The Verdict- Chapter Seven

Pairing: Vincent Renzi x OFC

Warnings: mentions of vomiting, mentions of pregnancy, divorce. see prev. tags.

A/N: I am a woman of the people and with the reaction from last chapter, you guys can have this one early. I’ll be in NYC all week, so I’m not sure I’ll have the next chapter written until late next week. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy and I look forward to your reactions! (Someone make new Swann gifs, please, with Vincent’s hair)

Leah's arrival at JFK at noon left her feeling disheveled. Boarding the flight from Paris at around eight PM, she landed at JFK at two PM, with jet lag immediately taking its toll due to the time change. Craving a quick dinner, a speedy shower, and the comfort of a warm bed, Leah knew she had no time to waste as duty called. She promptly arranged for a car to take her to Brooklyn Heights.

Living just a few blocks away, Brooke's apartment was a convenient stop for Leah. With two toddlers and a six-year-old, she understood that asking Brooke to meet her for coffee was out of the question.

“Mommy, Auntie Leah is here!” The front door swung open, hitting the wall with a thud as a snaggle-toothed girl rushed into Leah’s arms. “Hi, sweet girl.” Balancing the girl as she entered, Leah closed the door behind her. Once the girl wriggled free, she beamed up at Leah.

“Aria, don’t wake your brother and sister,” Brooke scolded as she appeared from around the corner. Opening her arms, she warmly embraced Leah, her old friend.

“France suits you,” Brooke remarked, eyeing Leah playfully.

“I brewed the strongest coffee I had, knowing you must be exhausted,” Brooke said, leading Leah into the kitchen and seating her at the bar. “Not just from the time change, but from the hot lawyer you've been hanging around with.”

Leah rolled her eyes. “Kate and her big mouth strike again.”

Accepting the coffee Brooke handed her, Leah leaned back, her chin resting on her hands.

“Tell me all about him. Distract me from this ridiculous divorce,” Brooke said, a twinkle in her eye.

Leah decided to cut to the chase. She briefly recounted the details of the case to Brooke, who seemed disinterested, before delving into her move-in with Vincent and the ensuing events. Speaking about it out loud felt surreal, as if she was observing herself from a distance, noting the absurdity of it all.

"It's... crazy," Leah confessed, taking a sip of her coffee.

"It's real," Brooke reassured her. "The way you light up when you talk about it says it all. You're practically glowing."

Leah buried her face in her hands, letting out an embarrassed groan.

"Are you going back to France?" Brooke inquired.

"Yeah," Leah confirmed. "I only came back to assist you with the custody agreement. I intend to see the case in France through to its conclusion."

"Ever the resilient one," Brooke chuckled. "Stepping out of your comfort zone at last."

"Took you long enough," Brooke teased.

They spent the following hour poring over Brooke's divorce settlement and custody arrangements, discussing her entitlements following the dissolution of her marriage and what she would be left with.

"So, you'll be there tomorrow, right?" Brooke asked anxiously.

"Yes, of course. It's normal for lawyers to attend mediation sessions. I just need to catch a flight at noon," Leah replied.

"My little jet setter," Brooke teased, eliciting a playful response from Leah in the form of her raised middle finger.

________________________________________

After ordering enough takeout for a family of five, Leah indulged in a quick shower, trying to reacclimate to life in her apartment. She felt like a ghost, haunting the familiar spaces she once occupied. The bed felt foreign, lacking the softness and comfort she had grown accustomed to in Vincent's bed. Thoughts of him consumed her, wondering if he was thinking of her too. Memories of their time together played on a loop in her mind, only to bring her back to reality, picturing him peacefully asleep. She questioned her longing for his arms and wondered why she had been denying the truth of her feelings for so long. She welcomed the embrace of sleep gratefully as it finally enveloped her.

At five in the morning, Leah found herself facing the day with weariness in both body and mind as she rose from her bed. Swiftly preparing for the day, she reached for the pre-selected outfit hanging in her closet. Satisfied with how she looked in the high-waisted slacks and neatly-pressed silk shirt, she effortlessly slipped into her red bottoms. Fashion had taken a backseat during the intense involvement in Sandra's case in France, but then, as she admired her reflection, she felt a sense of familiarity wash over her, reconnecting with her old self after a long time.

Stopping at a midtown coffee shop just before seven, Leah placed her usual order and waited patiently as the barista worked their magic. Suddenly, a wave of nausea swept over her, causing her to break out in a cold sweat. Her palms turned clammy, and she felt the color drain from her face as a tingling sensation spread. Pushing through the crowd of waiting patrons, she hurried to the bathroom, slamming the door shut just in time to drop to her knees and empty the contents of her stomach into the toilet. After the ordeal passed, she rose unsteadily to her feet, wiping a cold paper towel across her neck to soothe herself. Her complexion was devoid of any color, while the tips of her ears blazed a scarlet red, a stark contrast to her drained face. Shaking off the episode, she emerged from the bathroom with a facade of composure, determined to carry on as if nothing had occurred. "Out of sight, out of mind," she reminded herself as she grabbed her order and briskly made her way towards the meeting place a few blocks away.

"You don’t look so good," Brooke observed as Leah joined her in the lobby.

"I had bad takeout last night," Leah explained, falling into step with Brooke as they entered the elevator.

"Was it Ming’s?" Brooke inquired, sharing her own unfortunate experience, "They nearly killed me with the worst food poisoning last year."

Leah shook her head in response, and Brooke fell silent. As the elevator doors slid open, they were greeted by an army of lawyers and Brooke's soon-to-be ex-husband, the epitome of an asshole. Leah couldn't help but wish she had managed to hold in the urge to vomit a little longer, just so she could unleash it on the whole group.

_______________________________________

As Leah swiftly tidied her apartment, preparing it for her return, she called for a car to take her to the airport. During the journey, her thoughts raced. Brooke's shattered marriage, torn apart by an unfaithful spouse, and the collateral damage inflicted upon her children, weighed heavily on Leah's mind. She pondered the cruel twist of fate where love, once a beacon of hope and joy, could spiral into darkness.

Vincent also occupied her thoughts, a figure of quiet strength and unwavering kindness. His gentle demeanor nurtured the connection between them with each touch, each embrace, each glance.

She mulled over what she knew of Vincent, what remained a mystery, and the things that seemed to divide them. Yet, in the midst of this contemplation, a spark of hope flickered within her, a tiny flame fueled by the warmth of his presence and the thought of being back in France with him.

Leah hurried towards the designated gate, her mind racing with thoughts. Despite her intelligence, she often found comfort in the saying "ignorance is bliss" and lived by the mantra of "out of sight, out of mind." As she deftly entered the corresponding number/letter combination into the CVS vending machine, she swiftly grabbed her selection and made a beeline for her gate.

Leah suddenly felt a wave of regret wash over her. She regretted moving in with him, getting involved romantically, and losing focus on her original purpose for being in France. The weight of her failures weighed heavily on her as she navigated through the airport and boarded the plane, almost like a zombie in a daze.

In the tiniest lavatory imaginable, Leah's hands shook as she ripped open the box, a sudden turbulence tossing her around like a forewarning as she gazed at the stick in her grasp. Completing her task, a sense of humility washing over her, she hurriedly washed her hands and concealed the evidence within her bag. Back at her seat, she drew a deep breath, preparing herself for what lay ahead. Nestled within her bag was her destiny—a small, blue plus sign, a souvenir from her time in France.

________________________________________

It was nearly 7 PM when Leah landed in Paris and headed to Vincent's apartment. She expected him to be alone, so she was surprised when Joan answered the door.

"Bonsoir," Joan greeted Leah, opening the door wider for her to enter with her bag.

"Salut," Leah replied, glancing around the empty kitchen and living room.

"Where's Vincent?" she inquired.

"He's gone with Tim to the country house," Joan explained. "They're clearing trees from the main drive due to bad weather."

"Ah, I see," Leah nodded, walking into the space and heading towards the bedroom to drop off her carry-on and slip out of her shoes.

"You look nice," Joan complimented. "Did you win your case?"

"It was just a mediation," Leah clarified. "Divorce arrangements, custody agreements... all the unpleasant stuff."

"I'm glad I never got married," Joan admitted, motioning for Leah to join her at the table.

Leah poured herself a cup of tea and sat across from Joan.

"I understand," Leah acknowledged.

"My Vincent was always a stoic child. I don't think he ever truly needed a father," Joan reflected. "Maybe he did, but that ship has long sailed."

Leah listened attentively, chiming in, "I witnessed quite a battle during that mediation.”

"And you're scared, aren't you?" Joan asked, smiling knowingly at Leah.

"Of what's happening between you and Vincent," Joan elaborated.

"I'm not sure if it's fear or logic guiding me right now," Leah confessed. "Nothing seems to make sense."

"When I got pregnant with Vincent, by a worthless man, I had nowhere to turn. I was deported from Ireland and returned here. I had my parents, well, my mother briefly, but that's another tale. Despite being conceived in such dire circumstances and raised with all my quirks, he turned out to be a good man. I couldn't be prouder of him," Joan proudly stated.

Leah smiled at Joan's openness, slightly taken aback until Joan added, "But you're not pregnant by a worthless man, are you, Leah?"

Before Leah could respond, Vincent arrived, greeting her warmly as he removed his jacket and boots.

Joan hugged Vincent, giving Leah a knowing look before seeing herself out.

"What was that about?" Vincent asked, brushing Leah's cheek.

"Nothing," Leah replied. "Did you know your mother is psychic?"

Vincent chuckled, "Don't tell her that, or her ego will inflate even more."

_______________________________________

Taglist:

@weakling-grace

@bibistatic

#vincent renzi fanfiction #anatomy of a fall vincent #vincent renzi x original female character #maitre vincent renzi #vincent renzi #the verdict

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

"get me a damned matcha" | Chapter 23: April II

{{ Chapter 22: March II | Chapter 24: May II }} Chapter Directory

publishing early because i'm out from 8am-10:30pm tomorrow and i'm not ready for it :|

if you wanna get tagged for updates, fill out this form here!

✧ pairing ➼ levi ackerman x fem!reader, college x coffee shop x roommates!au ✧ summary ➼ After you find yourself plagued with misfortune due to struggles in your personal and family life, you find yourself needing to move last minute. As a junior in undergrad with little money and little social support, you considered yourself lucky when you found a sublease that was close to campus and was relatively cheap. Unfortunately, it seemed that your roommate did not seem to be so excited regarding your presence. ✧ content/warnings ➼ fluff, fem!reader, afab!reader, smut (minors go away) ✧ word count ➼ ~6k

“You’re going to be in the middle of nowhere just to write for two weeks?” Levi asked with a clear hint of skepticism in his voice.

You nodded as you continued packing.

“I think it’ll be a nice change of pace compared to how chaotic it can get on campus.”

Levi blinked at you a few times without saying anything, maintaining that skeptical expression with the way that his eyebrow was slightly raised. He knew there was more. As wonderful as the alone time might have sounded, the inconvenience of having to travel so far and be in an area with little to no services seemed too much to be explained by getting a “nice change of pace”.

You noticed his silence and looked back at him.

“It’s also paid,” you reluctantly admitted.

“Ah,” he muttered, suddenly understanding. Getting to do your graduation project while being paid to hang out at forest reserve did sound appealing. “Still, two weeks?”

“Actually a month,” you corrected with a shrug, “but I couldn’t afford to go for that long, so I went for the two-week option instead.”

“Hmm,” Levi mumbled without really responding.

Two weeks was a long time. The last time you left, it was only for a week and it had prompted that huge fight that resulted in you storming out of the apartment and crashing on your friend’s living room couch instead of coming home.

While he was still annoyed at himself for getting as attached as he was to you, he internally made a promise to himself to at least put some effort into not immediately regressing back into being a dick the minute you left for your trip.

“Wanna come with?”

“What?” Levi asked abruptly, having not expected the question while he was deep in thought. It wasn’t a request that even crossed his mind.

“You said Erwin’s out of town for the month, right?” you asked as you vaguely remembered Levi complaining about being locked out of lab for a few weeks and being unable to do any real work. “So you can’t even really go into lab?”

Levi was still blankly staring at you, struggling to process your sudden request.

“I can bring one guest,” you explained. “You wanna come?”

His instinct was to say no. Spending two weeks in the middle of nowhere was not something his mind would jump to when he thought of things he wanted to do to relax, although being away from people did sound nice. Plus, the idea of getting to be by you for those two weeks sounded much more pleasurable than staying at the apartment on his own when he couldn’t even do any work.

“Might be nice to be away from others for two weeks,” you said as a small smile appeared on your face. “Just you and me.”

Levi scoffed.

“And be trapped with your insufferable ass for two weeks?”

You pouted and chucked a rolled up pair of socks at him from your bag.

An ever-so-subtle smirk appeared on Levi’s lips as he caught your socks and threw them back at you.

“If I must,” he mumbled with a feigned sigh of annoyance, but that small smirk on his face betrayed him, making his desire to simply be around you more than obvious.

~~~~~

The cabin was cozy, but was by no means small. When you had imagined spending two weeks in a “remote camping resort” that was quite literally in the middle of nowhere, you imagined staying in a small log cabin that had no internet and was running on minimal electricity. Instead, you ended up staying in a fairly large cabin with multiple kitchenettes, bedrooms, and bathrooms. If you had the money, you’d pay to vacation here, so you were astonished that you were getting paid to stay here and write. Granted, you had to fill out a lengthy application regarding your ability to write, publish, and sell your light novel, but considering the fact that you needed it just to graduate, getting the application processed was a piece of cake. 

The fact that you were able to stay here, as well as being able to bring a guest along, was an opportunity that you were immensely glad to have taken. It was indeed refreshing when compared to being trapped on a crowded college campus filled with students that were either stressed, drunk, or both.

There were three other applicants that you were sharing the cabin with. Some of them brought friends or significant others as their guests, so it ended up being more like five people that you were sharing the same building with, but with how big the cabin itself was, it essentially felt like you had it to yourself.

“You said they’re paying you to do this?” Levi asked skeptically as he began methodically unpacking your duffle bag.

You had originally thrown your bag onto the queen-sized bed, which immediately made him scrunch his nose up in disgust that you were bringing something that had clearly touched the floor onto the bed where you were supposed to be sleeping. He immediately took it off and placed it onto the pouf in front of the bed to begin unpacking it.

“Under the condition that we finish whatever it is we’re supposed to be writing and submit it,” you explained as you looked out the window, which showed a serene scenery into the forest that immediately brought you a sense of tranquility. “Since I have to turn in a light novel for my capstone project, all the pieces just kinda came together.”

As expected for Levi, everything was the textbook definition of organized by the time he finished unpacking. You had stopped to help, but then he got grouchy over how you placed something a tad too haphazardly, so you just raised your hands and walked off, letting him do his own thing instead of fighting it. Your toiletries were neatly placed into the bath, with your bathing supplies standing next to each other on the shelves in the shower-bath unit. Your computers were placed on the desk near the window, with your jackets hanging off the back of the armchair in front of the desk.

Content after getting unpacked and settled in, you flopped backwards onto the bed, the memory foam mattress being a refreshing sensation compared to the spring mattresses back at home. 

“You think the landlord would be mad if we switched up the beds?”

“What’s wrong with the ones we have?” Levi asked with a frown.

“Just not as comfy,” you said with a shrug, rolling over onto your side as Levi sat down next to you, leaning his back against the headboard.

You looked up and saw the slightly unsettled look on his face as he adjusted to staying in a new environment for a few days. It was a welcome change, but one he’d have to adjust to nonetheless. No matter how you put it, staying in a cabin in the woods was vastly different from staying in an apartment on a college campus.

Realizing that the two of you found yourselves out in the woods again together made your cheeks heat up ever-so-slightly, but it was enough for Levi to immediately notice once he looked back down at you.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you mumbled, awkwardly looking away in embarrassment. “Just remembering…”

“Remembering what?” he asked with a skeptical expression.

“...that our first time was in the forest…”

You shuffled around uncomfortably, feeling a mix of embarrassment and nostalgia upon pulling up the memory.

“That was in a tent, though,” Levi noted as he scooted towards you before pulling you in flush against him.

You let out a small squeak of surprise as he pulled you in, looking up and seeing that he was affectionately looking back down at you.

“We can consider this an upgrade,” he whispered as he pulled you in, gently pressing his lips against yours.

The kiss took you by surprise at first, but it was quickly returned as you parted your lips more, grazing your teeth against his bottom lip. Your hand grabbed at the collar of his shirt as you pulled yourself over him, straddling him, never separating your lips from his. You moaned into the kiss as your hand traveled down from the collar of his shirt and down his chest towards his waist.

However, any chance of you getting to feel his cock in you immediately disappeared once you heard an obnoxious ringing tone from your phone. It was your alarm, and it was saying that it was time for you to leave to go to the orientation meeting in the main dining area.

Frustrated, you groaned and buried your face in Levi’s chest without moving from your suggestive position. Even if you skipped, the moment had already been ruined. You had no choice but to save Levi’s “upgrade” offer for later, although you weren’t sure when that would be, given the busy day you had ahead of you.

You sighed and rolled off him with a grumpy look on your face.

“I’ll be back in twenty, I guess,” you grumbled as you haphazardly put your shoes on and made your way out the door, fixing your hair and t-shirt on your way out, hoping that any of your fellow housemates wouldn’t put two and two together on what was happening behind your bedroom door.

~~~~~

It was at that point in the spring where it was both no longer cold and yet to be warm. It meant that it was the perfect weather for you to throw on a thin jacket and sit outside. Given the fact that you were at a remote resort, you were able to find peace in the outdoors, with just you and Levi. 

The two of you currently sat on the edge of the pier that looked out into the lake. The sun hadn’t gone down yet, so you still had lighting, but it was approaching evening. The orange and pink hue reflected off the water. If you had a knack for painting, this would be the perfect scenery to try to replicate. The colors of the sky blended together with the reflections in the water, almost making it difficult to differentiate between the horizon and the water itself.

Your legs were dangling above the water, hanging off the edge of the pier, with Levi sitting criss-crossed next to you. You had a notebook and were plotting out one of the last chapters of your novel, choosing to write by hand instead of bringing your laptop to avoid even the slightest chance of dropping your somewhat expensive computer into the water. Levi sat next to you, quietly gliding his pencil over his sketchbook—the same one that he had received as a gift at the white elephant exchange in December. 

You sat in comfortable silence next to him as you both focused on your tasks at hand. Once you saw how intensely he was looking into his sketchbook, you glanced over at what it was that he was trying to draw. 

It was the scenery in front of you: the water in the lake, the way the sun was setting in the sky, and the way the forest was separating the horizon and the water line off in the distance.

“I didn’t know you could draw,” you mused, looking closely at how the different elements of the sketch were elegantly coming together.

“Never had the time to,” Levi mumbled as he glanced up at the lake momentarily before looking back down at his sketch.

Although he was weirded out by the idea of coming here with you at first, he ultimately knew that it was a good thing for him as well as you. It gave him a chance to be away from lab and the cafe and mentally reset. While having a routine was great for him, it had certainly become mundane and he found himself entering a mental fog of doing the same thing every day. Coming out and being forced to adjust was something that he desperately needed.

He looked down at his sketch. He had fully expected it to be nothing but chicken scratch and was pleasantly surprised to see that it actually somewhat looked like the scene he was trying to replicate. The last time that he drew was when he was around eight years old, so it felt like a lifetime ago. This was effectively his first time actually drawing.

“Used to draw sketches for-”

Levi paused for a second as he stumbled over his words, indicating that he was bringing up a slightly sensitive topic.

“Used to draw sketches for my mother when she was sick,” he said quietly as he looked down at his pencil, although he was vaguely able to tell that you had tilted your head to indicate that you were listening.

“Haven’t really touched it since,” he finished.

He had picked up the hobby at a really young age and he really did enjoy it at the time. However, given the chaos that led up to and followed his mother’s death, he could never bring himself to do it again. It was always a ‘save it for later’ thing, and ‘later’ just never came until now.

Despite the painful memories that were brought up from him branching out into a hobby he had long buried, he did draw some sense of comfort from it. He had coped with his grief through avoidance and bitterness as he grew up and it wasn’t until he was in his late-teens that he got a chance to properly process. Even after he fully processed, he still found himself salty without getting any real closure. Helping you come to terms with your own grief was slowly moving him in that direction. Things like celebrating his birthday or visiting his mother’s grave were still painful, but it was at least more bearable compared to before.

“Wanna draw cover art for my book?” you asked with a completely serious expression.

Levi snorted at you, finally looking up.

“If you want shitty 8-year-old-level drawings.”

“I think I’ll take my chances,” you said with a nonchalant shrug, glancing down at Levi’s sketch.

The only thought that crossed your mind was that he must have been a stupidly talented eight-year-old. The sketch already looked better than anything you would have been able to produce. This didn’t really come as a surprise to you, but part of you definitely hated how quick Levi was at picking things up, even if this was something that he used to do as a child.

You were joking about him drawing cover art for your book, but given how his initial sketch was already looking, you began seriously considering it, despite the fact that him having a knack for the art right off the bat irritated you beyond belief. 

~~~~~

Being out in the middle of nowhere at least made the insomnia more bearable.

Levi was able to get a view out the window that wasn’t just the parking lot in front of your apartment building. Instead, he was able to look out into the woods, the terrain being lit up by the full moon shining above you. The stars were more than visible, given how far away from the main city you were.

The fact that the scenery would have been pitch black if it weren’t for the moon made the view seem that much more serene. Levi took a deep breath as he sipped on some tea that he had made himself earlier once he knew that it was going to be one of those nights in which it was pointless to try to get any sleep.

You must have felt the same way. Levi glanced over towards the bed as soon as he heard you shuffling around. The corner of his lips slightly pulled up as he observed how you had the blanket bunched up as you wrapped your arms around it, while burying your face into the pillow. It was so strange to him that the person he was looking at now was the same annoying brat that came barging into his life nearly two years ago.

He sighed, going to rinse out his cup in the bathroom sink, not wanting to go back out into the kitchen area this late into the night. After placing the cup upside down to dry on a laid out hand towel, he went to change into a tank top and sweatpants to attempt to sleep. Even if he couldn’t sleep, at least he could rely on you to curl up next to him (and occasionally even on him) for snuggles.

After he crawled under the blanket, Levi gently wrapped his arm around your waist, nudging you towards him. He saw you shifting around to adjust for his presence.

“Still up?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled, scooting backwards so you could feel him on you. “Sometimes if I just lie still and shut my eyes, I can trick my body into thinking I’m asleep and then I’ll actually fall asleep.”

Levi responded with a scoff, clearly skeptical. 

“That’s bullshit.”

“Sometimes it works,” you grumbled with a pout, your bottom lip slightly poking out.

“Yeah?” he asked with a raised eyebrow even though your eyes were still closed. “Like when?”

You remained silent for a few seconds as you tried to come up with a clever answer.

“Not the point,” you eventually responded, admitting defeat.

Levi rolled his eyes, but pulled you closer against him so that he could bury his face in the crook of your neck.

Although he only intended to focus on the smell of your fruity shampoo that still lingered in your hair, he quickly noticed just how close you were to him, with your ass fully pressed up against his dick. He couldn’t tell if you were doing so on purpose or not, but it didn’t stop that tight feeling in his pants from forming. Levi let out a quiet sigh of frustration as he felt his boner growing. Given your close proximity, he was sure that you’d be able to feel it too.

“What?” you asked in a slightly mocking tone.

He couldn’t see with your back pressed up against him, but the mischievous smirk on your face gave away your intention of rubbing your ass on his dick to get him worked up.

“You know what you’re doing, you little shit,” he scolded, scowling at you.

“Aren’t we just cuddling?” you asked innocently.

Levi let out an exasperated sigh as he tightened his grip around you, with a quiet growl emanating from his throat as one hand traveled up to gently grip at your neck, while the other began traveling down to your waistline.

“What was that comment about this being an upgrade earlier?” he whispered directly into your ear, making it so that you were already feeling your body heating up.

His lips brushed up against your earlobe as he spoke before traveling down to your neck, planting gentle, but chilling kisses against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. 

You were already acutely aware of his growing erection, but you could now blatantly feel his hardening cock pressing up against your ass, prompting you to press yourself against him harder, letting out a small moan as you felt his fingers reach underneath your panties to gain access to your clit.

As soon as he began moving his fingers in circles around the small bundle of nerves, you gripped at his hand, with you now being the one that was groaning in frustration as you felt your arousal begin to leak out onto your panties. 

Feeling more than a little horny, you quickly turned around, pushing him onto his back as you crawled onto him and straddled him, roughly pressing your lips against his. Your hands were tightly gripping at his shoulders as you began grinding your crotch against his, getting increasingly frustrated with the cloth that was separating his cock from your cunt. 

Your tongue prodded against his lips, which slightly parted to grant you entrance, and you heard his breathing hasten as he reached down to pull his sweatpants down, allowing his cock to finally pop up directly under you. 

You immediately pulled your lips away from his, a string of spit connecting your lips to his as you impatiently reached down to move your panties to the side, which were already long soaked with your slick. You groaned as you felt the tip of his cock rubbing up against your folds, and essentially felt your pussy throbbing and begging for more.

A small whine escaped your lips as you reached your fingers down to line up his cock with your entrance so he could go in, your face flushed and eyes clouded over with lust.

However, before you could engulf his cock with your pussy, he shoo’d your hand away.

“Never were any good at being patient, were you?” he mumbled in an amused tone as he saw the frustrated look on your face. “Relax. ”

He put his hands around your face and pulled you into a kiss that started off gentle, but quickly grew heated as he firmly placed his hands on your waist, flipping you over so that he was looming over you.

You placed your hands around the sides of his neck, pulling yourself up to keep your lips connected with his, letting out a small moan as you felt his tongue find its way into your mouth, asserting its dominance over yours, further soaking your panties with your slick. Your hands then traveled down to his waistline and you reached underneath his tank top, running your hands over his abs up to his chest as you took off his tank top and threw it across the room to the side.

Once he finally pulled away, you were able to see that the full moon shining into the room made the normally gray hue of his eyes more like silver, mesmerizing you with his gaze, which was further exacerbated by the fact that you were always weak for the way that he looked at you.

Levi gently placed his hand on your shoulder and pushed you down back onto the bed so that you were laying down fully, with his other hand lifting the hem of your tank top. You slightly arched your back and held your arms up as he removed your tank top, your nipples quickly hardening from their sudden contact with the cold air.

His hand gently massaged one of your breasts, with your breath getting caught in your throat as he pinched your hardened nipple between his fingers. His other hand ghosted over your stomach as it traveled down towards your hips, and his index finger looped around the hem of your panties, gently pulling them down and off you. 

Both of his hands squeezed your ass as he moved back up to you, slightly lifting your hips as he lined up his leaking cock with your slit.

A quiet groan emanated from his throat as he slowly pushed his throbbing cock into your dripping cunt, his eyes rolling into the back of his head from the sensation.

“...Fuck, you’re perfect,” he muttered underneath his breath, having to pause for a split second to gather himself. 

Once he opened his eyes again, he leaned down, pulling you into another deep kiss as he began to rock his hips against yours, his cock getting completely coated with your slick as he moved in and out of you. His lips traveled from your lips down to your neck, drawing a quiet whine out of you when he began gently grazing his teeth against the sensitive flesh.

One of his hands tightly gripped at your hips, with the other traveling to your throbbing clit. Your entire body jerked as you felt him press down on the small bundle of nerves, tracing agonizingly slow circles around it as he pumped in and out of you at a steady pace.

His pacing was driving you nuts, with your whining getting louder with each following thrust, which only resulted in Levi sinking his teeth into the flesh of your neck, biting you as a warning to quiet down.

You bit down on your lip to try to muffle your moans as your hands clawed at his back, needing to hold onto something as you felt the heat build up in your lower belly. Your legs were shaking around him as he continued to plunge his cock repeatedly into your dripping cunt, causing you to arch your back off the bed, pressing your chest flush against his, your hand immediately going to cover your mouth to quiet yourself down as you felt your entire body clench up from your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. 

For those few seconds, all of your senses seemed to turn off, with the world becoming a blur around you, with the only point of focus being how Levi felt on you as he held you down and fucked you through your orgasm, his pacing of his thrusts and tracing patterns on your clit never changing, repeatedly causing your breath to get caught in your throat.

By the time you zoned back in, Levi had his face buried into your neck, with subtle whimpers escaping from his throat. His pacing began to ever-so-subtly pick up as his thrusts became sloppier and harder. One of his hands gripped at your shoulders and you heard him curse underneath his breath, sinking his teeth into your shoulder as a way to muffle his own moans as he filled you with his cum, thrusting into you slowly a few more times until your pussy milked him dry. 

He held himself above you for a while, panting as he mustered up the resolve to pull himself out of you, his cock more than sensitive after the intensity of his orgasm. Levi let out another small whimper as his breath got caught in his throat as he finally pulled out and rolled over to lay next to you, immediately pulling you in for a kiss afterwards.

“Well, this will definitely help me sleep,” you mumbled as you rested your head against his chest.

He planted a kiss on the top of your head, his arm wrapped around you as he traced his thumb back and forth on your shoulder.

You took comfort in the motion, which only added to the sense of warmth resonating through you from both feeling him around you and the post-sex euphoria. Less than five minutes passed before your breathing slowly began to change, with you taking in deeper, but slower breaths as you finally began to fall asleep.

Levi immediately noticed this and gently shook you to wake you back up.

“Let’s get you cleaned up first.”

It took you a second to respond, having been pulled out of your very brief slumber.

“...whose fault is that?” you mumbled with your eyes still closed.

You could practically feel him frowning at you—or glaring, you could easily imagine both. What you couldn’t predict was the slight tint of pink on his cheeks. He technically was the one that initiated it, although it could be argued that that was your intention all along. Levi brought attention to this.

“You’re the one that stuck your ass on my dick,” he grumbled.

“You’re the one that pulled my ass in,” you retorted.

A cheeky grin appeared on your face as you heard him tut in discontent.

“You’re so annoying,” he said with a sigh before he drew his arm back and got up from under you, which immediately prompted a pout to appear on your face as you quietly whined at the sudden lack of warmth.

By the time you got yourself to actually open your eyes to see what he was fumbling around for, you saw that he was grabbing fresh sets of towels and was likely planning on dragging you into the bathroom to get you to shower.

You watched as he prepped the bathroom, warming up the water in the bathtub. He was meticulous about setting up the bath, making sure the water was at the perfect temperature and that the bathtub was filled to just the right amount. It was unclear if he was planning on sitting in the tub with you, but you wouldn’t have minded either way.

You couldn’t deny that you were surprised at first that he was willing to just drop everything and spend two weeks with you in the middle of nowhere at some camping resort for you to technically do nothing other than write your light novel. You had fully prepared yourself to be on your own for these two weeks and then come home to a grumpy Levi—that was generally how he tended to react whenever you were gone. However, you certainly didn’t mind that he decided to end up tagging along. It made spending time at the resort less lonely, and although your concentration wasn’t entirely there since you were hanging out around him, it made the whole thing much more enjoyable, and that was enough for you.

~~~~~

The fire provided some warmth, but it was a small bonfire, so you ended up still feeling the chilliness of the air around you now that the sun was starting to go down. The approaching darkness made the gentle, dancing orange flames seem that much brighter. It occasionally hurt to look at when it was freshly rekindled, but was a pretty sight once the fire settled down.

You, Levi, and the rest of the people at the resort had decided to spend your last night having a bonfire while making some smores and generally chatting about the experience. Most said that being around nature helped them focus, appreciating the time away from the hustle of modern society. You were all sitting by the bonfire, which was close to the resort, but isolated enough that it gave you a new environment to be in.

After about 30-45 minutes of chatting, people began heading back inside, preferring the warmth of the large cabin to the dark outdoors that was growing more chilly with every passing minute. After lingering behind a little, you began to get up as well.

Levi had his hand on your thigh, and he squeezed a bit as he felt you begin to get up, indicating that he wanted you to stay seated. You looked over at him.

“Stay with me for a bit.”

A small blush crept onto your cheeks as you shuffled in your seat again, moving closer to him.

“Thought I was annoying,” you mused with a raised eyebrow. 

“You are,” he said with a shrug, the corner of his lips subtly raising into a small smile.

“Well,” you said with a huff of feigned frustration, “if I’m annoying, then you’re insufferable.”

A cocky grin appeared on your face as you saw Levi roll his eyes before sighing. The banter that had formerly caused you so much grief was now something you appreciated and occasionally needed to be around. It was a staple of your relationship with him and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

You watched the flames reflect off his silver eyes for a while, mesmerized by them as you usually were. Eventually, you noticed some of the leftover s’mores materials on the picnic table behind him that some of the others conveniently forgot to take back to the cabin. You stood up and approached it, grabbing one of the skewers.

“Want one?” you asked, looking over your shoulder back towards Levi.

“And have all that sugar right before bed?” he responded skeptically. “Fuck no.”

You snorted at his comment as you stabbed the marshmallow.

“Whatever you say, buzzkill,” you mumbled as you held the marshmallow over the fire, turning it until it completely caught on fire so the outside would char. The thought of the flakey texture of the outside and the chewy texture on the inside was already enough to get your mouth watering.

However, the world seemed like it didn’t want you to enjoy your marshmallow because as soon as you lifted the skewer, the marshmallow immediately decided it had been charred for too long and slid off the skewer, falling directly into the fire.

You stood over the fire, holding the now empty skewer without moving, desperately trying to hide the disappointment from appearing on your face. You could already imagine the smug and subtly amused look in Levi’s eyes and didn’t want to turn around to face him.

You sighed as you heard him step up next to you, taking the skewer from your hand.

“Can’t even toast a god damn marshmallow?” he asked in an amused tone as he stabbed into another fresh marshmallow.

You stuck your tongue out at him before grumbling something underneath your breath about it apparently being harder than it looks.

“Keep that up and I’ll eat it myself instead of making this stupid sugar sandwich for you,” he scolded, frowning at you, although his tone indicated his lack of true irritation at your antics.

“Thought you didn’t want all that sugar before bed?”

You called him out on his empty threat by referring to his previous comment, which only resulted in a barely audible grunt from him.

Sitting down on the bench that you had previously occupied before you got fixated, you watched as he meticulously broke apart both the chocolate and the cracker in half after what seemed like perfectly charring the marshmallow that was making your mouth water the more that you were staring at it. He put together the sandwich and then handed it over to you. 

Your assumption that he had charred the marshmallow perfectly was correct, which further pissed you off regarding Levi’s apparent ability to do everything perfectly. You knew that wasn’t necessarily true—with the primary example being his inability to grasp modern technology—but it certainly felt like it when he cooked it to the perfect texture immediately after yours tragically dropped into the bonfire. You smiled as you bit into it, with the texture of the melted marshmallow’s insides being silky smooth mixed in with the slight crackle of the burnt outer shell. That, plus the crunch of the cracker and sturdiness of the chocolate, made any potential worries nowhere to be found as you momentarily indulged in the sugary snack. You were enjoying it so much that you weren’t aware that the melted chocolate was leaving its mark on your lips.

“Tch,” Levi tutted as he sat down next to you. “How filthy can you get?”

He sighed as he brought his hand up to your cheek, using his thumb to rub off the chocolate on your lips. 

Even after the chocolate was gone, his thumb hovered over your lips and you became increasingly aware of the skin-to-skin contact. His gaze slowly lowered from your eyes, down to your lips, and then back up to your eyes, the creases underneath his eyes becoming more faint as his gaze softened. The flickering of the flames reflecting off his eyes died down as the fire dimmed, but that didn’t make his eyes and gaze seem any less mesmerizing. 

His hand that was gently cupping your cheek became slightly more firm as he pulled you towards him, gently planting his lips on you, moving them against yours in a gentle kiss, the darkness protecting you from any prying eyes.

“You went from calling me filthy to kissing me,” you whispered after he pulled back slightly, although your lips were still brushing up against each other. “I’m confused.”

“Shut up before I change my mind,” he grumbled, pulling you back into another kiss before you could think of a clever response, tasting the sweetness of the smores lingering on your lips—maybe a sugary snack before bed wasn’t so bad after all.

#: @levisbrat25 @gothgril69 @sckerman @berrijam @notgoodforlife @meowjaa @averysmolbear @roseofdarknessblog @bejewelledd @hhighkey @ayame236 @sad-darksoul @velouria17 @kamyru @l1zk4 @layenacreates @lamees004 @whoami-72 @highgoon69 @chaotic-on-main @levishotgf @nube55 @chosos-mascara @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman @v4mp-wife @moonchild-angel @astri-ackerman @auriuswolve @noctemys @you-always-made-me-blush @raginginferno267 @sugurusdiscordmoderator @jennamelinda12 @noodlejitsu @nalu-trashytrash

#n.sfw #levi smut #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi heichou x reader #captain levi x reader #levi #levi ackerman #levi heichou #captain levi #fics: matcha #modern!au levi #coffeeshop!au levi #college!au levi #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk

[demonbanger]

𝙄𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙢𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙫𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤. 𝙄𝙩’𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩, 𝙄’𝙡𝙡 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪. | 18+

★ ft. sex demon! EUSTASS KID ★

[ click for pt. 1 - don’t fret precious I’m here ]

★ summary: the incubus you summoned this month doesn’t like it when you show interest in other men and makes sure you know it.

🎧 song: Murder Song- Scum of the Earth | Entombed - Deftones

★ pairing: incubus! Eustass x fem! Reader

★ cw: possessive jealous bully Eustass, service dom disguised as brat tamer, aftercare, somno mention

★ taglist: @quinloki @slut4animedilfs @mrpoople @archangel1206 @downforsanji @nikos-a-clown @goshitshardtohaveagoodname @pinkcrystal-rose @detoniara @domainofmarie (if the tag didn’t work sorry bb)

___________________________________

Having a sex demon take your life energy was really not as bad as the Internet forums said.

Maybe it was because Eustass fucked you so well and made you cream around his cock so much every night, that you slept like a baby and you didn’t notice anything more than that.

You welcomed the change…you had bouts of insomnia anyways before meeting him. And as long as you ate plenty, drank enough water, and had caffeine near your bed, waking up the next day felt like the usual brain fog you always had. You’d have a sleepy smile on your face as you’d walk funny to go pee in the morning and look down to see your skin littered in his bite marks. And knowing you left him with the same markings.

One thing you started to notice was you never woke up a real mess despite how rough the nights were.

Sometimes you woke up with a load inside you since you’d pass out and Eustass would still have his way with your body (you consented to being his toy for him to freely use), but somehow you were still…taken care of in a subtle way.

Your room wouldn’t be in too much disarray even when you swore he tore your clothes off and threw them across the room in the crazy, lust-fueled night before.

Or you could’ve sworn you passed out butt naked on top of the sheets, but somehow you woke up underneath them.

After a week, you’d wake up from your slumber with a can of Monster energy (probably stolen from a gas station) on your desk.

It was almost as if Eustass wanted to help you, even when he had to go back to hell. The way he used you, called you a whore as he grunted in your ear and bounced you on his cock, manhandled you like you were nothing but a rag doll, not really cuddle with you after…all seemed like he would be heartless and uncaring. But past the rough exterior he seemed like he had a slight bit of decency,, and that made you really mean it when you’d call him Daddy, or obediently listen to his commands, or agree “yes Eustass! I’m your pet! Your Fucking doll! Fuck yes right there, nghhh—”

It kind of sucked when he stopped coming. You figured captains of hell’s legions were probably busy creatures, so you’d patiently wait, or just try and get yourself off whenever summoning him didn’t work.

But those days turned into weeks, you realized…it was torture. Trying to get yourself to cum was just never the same, and it was so maddening being back to the feeling that made you summon him in the first place: your fingers never spreading you out the same, lacking the rough skin texture of his fingers that rubbed against your clit so well, dildos not even comparing to his tentacle-like tongue that ate you out like no tomorrow, or thrusting into you so perfectly like his gorgeous cock that molded you to his size.

Eustass was right. He fucking ruined you. He ruined toys for you. His mocking laugh of how he even probably ruined other men’s dicks for you would echo in your ear as each day went on. It pissed you off because now, you weren’t a desperate horny bastard like before you met him—you were worse because that demon showed you heaven by giving your pussy hell.

And by raising your damn standards to the fucking moon.

And he didn’t even say goodbye or if he’d come back. He just left you wondering if he had his fill of you and got bored of his pet, if you sucked his giant cock well enough (well you genuinely couldn’t fit that much of it and you swore his amber eyes would roll back with you jerking off the rest of him), or what you could do to reach him better.

After three weeks. Three, fucking, weeks. You decided you were sick and tired of waiting or guessing. Clearly his absence was an answer that spoke for itself.

~~~~

One more failed orgasm, and you’re downloading a hookup app even though you swore off them because you had a few rotten relationships that came from dating apps. But this is different! Right? You’re just hooking up with a guy! Nothing special!

You create a profile and get dolled up in something other than the punk, red, black, lace, latex-type ensembles you’d wear for Kid. Because you’re not dressing for him anymore. You’re not a demon’s bitch.

Within an hour, you receive a notification. It’s a pretty, brunette boy who’s rather polite to you. Asks you questions to get to know you but not in a creepy way, finds out you’re here to fuck, but still says respectful.

You both exchange a few pictures, and he is very pretty. Just got out the shower, he shows you a picture of his pretty, tanned body all damp with curls dripping. You want to know what’s under that damn towel that’s hugging his hips so well.

You express that you’re bored tonight, don’t go out much, and he answers:

“Well, if you’d like, I’d love to satisfy you. Just let me know where you feel safest. I can even bring you food.”

The fact that he offers to take care of you or at least bring you food is something else…you reply:

“If you can FaceTime, for obvious reasons, it’s a done deal.”

And FaceTime he does. His voice is charming. And it sounds especially charming as he moans in your bed, thrusting sensually inside and out. Rocking your bed back and forth.

He’s a really good kisser, too. Holding your face in his warm hands, looking into your eyes with pretty hazel eyes that sparkle.

You think, if you have to settle for a human and put all this demon shit behind you, he would be a great option. At least as a fuckbuddy.

He’s great with aftercare. Great at learning which spots make you wetter, makes you blush from praise, is great at fucking you in doggy.

But he’s missing something. He’s not Eustass. You feel terrible for pushing an entire demonic entity as a standard for a guy who’s just a human, who’s a really good guy and probably an amazing boyfriend too. Fuck. Stop thinking about that demon, he probably won’t come back ever. He probably forgot who you are. You get annoyed with yourself for even letting him occupy parts of your mind and use that as even more of an excuse to enjoy your time with this man. This man, with the way he holds your hands above your head in missionary, the way he brings a hot wet towel to clean you, the way he tells you you did so well, cuddles you with the smell of his intoxicating cologne.

You try to fight off the sinking feeling that there’s still some part of you that’s frustrated. Maybe you can train this man to degrade you, be rougher with you. You know he wishes he could stay the night with his puppy dog eyes but it’s just a hookup, so he courteously goes back home when it gets too late. He tells you goodbye with a wink.

“Call me anytime,” Gabe says, and you smile as you close the door. This is going to be your life. Not too bad, because apparently there are good men out there. Why are you such a brat who can’t be satisfied?

You decide to go to bed early. Maybe it’s for your good that you don’t stay up as long as Eustass would keep you. And that you don’t wake up so sore, wincing when you walk.

————— meanwhile in hell…———————————

He couldn’t help but think about you, but you were getting distracting from his work and consuming his mind which was supposed to be focused on commanding hell’s army.

Your sweet, delicious smell. The way you’d tell him you’re his in that sweet little human voice, muffled by the covers. The way he’d have to peel your hands away from your face so he could taste your tears and eat up your pretty moans. How your hands felt so soft, so pretty as they’d scratch him bleeding.

Any time he’d train to be stronger, your voice begging him to go “Harder, Eu, faster, please” would send blood down there instantly.

He watched your marks on his pale skin fade with time, hoping the torturous memory of your pretty self keeping his cock warm would also fade. But it seemed like any time he’d close his damn eyes, your face was there to greet him. It made him feel…weird. And he didn’t like it. It felt like a lost feeling he may have had before, hundreds of years ago. But he didn’t want to think about it or unlock a whole new Pandora’s box of this thing called…feelings. Because they were starting to claw at him like your little nails, and the danger he sensed was a deeper, darker danger than any enemy he’d faced when commanding the legions of demons to fight the spiritual war.

Somehow you, a human so small compared to him, were more dangerous than any creature that existed in the entire goddamn universe, and you weren’t even trying to be.

He felt like one of your exes stalking you on social media, when he’d peek into your life every now and again to make sure you weren’t getting yourself hurt. To make sure his little pet wasn’t making some dumb decision.

Because you’re a stupid human, one who he couldn’t help but feel belonged to him.

You seemed to be getting along just fine, which annoyed him as much as he knew should’ve relieved him. You stopped calling for him. And he watched as one night when he casually stalked checked in on you, you started calling out another man’s name, a man who carried the name of an angel. That’s when he got pissed. Betrayed. But he did nothing, even when he wanted to rip that guy’s head right off his skinny little neck. It was for his own good that he kept out of the affairs of humans, even you.

His stomach sank, while also burning hotter than hell, when you came around that man’s cock. “Are you really gonna let that man take your human like that?” his vice-admiral Killer asked, and it made something in him tick. So when he heard your call a few earth days later, naturally he had to take back what was his. Because what demon would he be if he wasn’t selfish, self-serving, taking what’s his that shouldn’t be his, and indulging in a human lady?

————————————————————————

You had given up on touching yourself because what was the fucking point. Thus all this sexual energy got so pent up; despite your best efforts, your bad habit of thinking about a dumb demon got worse than ever. So here you are right now, sitting on your bed, wearing something sexy, hoping he could hear you and smell your wetness. Trying to call him one last time couldn’t hurt, right?

You wait, patiently, thinking of his presence, his voice, his scent. Nothing happens. No chill up your back, no glowing sigil. You try and fight the sinking feeling in your abdomen. You should’ve known better. Maybe you’ll just…snuff your candles and stop playing with hell.

Just as you think maybe he’ll never come back and you might as well give up, you hear a gruff throat clear and open your eyes.

“You called?”

You want so badly to be mad, so badly to be mean, to not bat an eye at him, but he looks extra delicious today. He’s dressed in all black and silver, matching the ensemble you’re wearing. He’s got leather and metal spikes adorning his features, but his delicious torso is bare as usual. He’s eyeing you hungrily, possessively, and you realize despite your stupor that you need to give him a little bit of grief.

“Yeah, I called, only about 20 times,” you snap. He isn’t very surprised at your sass. He knew you’d say something bratty, but he doesn’t apologize or anything. He doesn’t say he misses you. He in fact, opens your lingerie drawer and picks up your colorful pieces, and has the gall and the gumption to be almost accusatory towards you.

“What the fuck are these.” Eustass stares blankly, and it’s kind of hilarious because you never told him you got lingerie that didn’t suit his vibe, so that must mean one thing: he checked up on you.

“It’s lingerie, never seen it before?” What an idiot. Your idiot. You hide a chuckle of realization behind a veil of faux snark. He scoffs.

“They don’t know the real you like I do. The absolute freaky kitten you are, and quite frankly I’m glad you don’t show them that side of you. Because only I can bring that out,” like a cat pushing a glass off the countertop after his possessive monologue, the big redhead tosses the garments in your trash bin, just like he did to your sex toys that one night, and you gasp incredulously.

He continues to zero in on you, his heat and familiar smell immediately causing wetness to trickle between your legs. You hate how quickly he does what he does to you. Before you could think, his lips are on yours, feverishly kissing you, consuming you. And even crazier than that, you’re letting him. He’s crawling on top of you on the bed, surprisingly keeping both of your guy’s clothes on, prying apart your legs to make his home there. Right where he belongs.

His tongue explores your mouth like it’s searching for something, and he snarls possessively, hands carding over your hair and petting your soft skin. Oh he wants-wants you.

You almost get that feeling of not being wanted right out of your head. He’s erasing it in seconds, pinning you to the bed like this, kissing down your neck, biting a bit harder than usual, biting wet hickies all over your breasts.

Right when you instinctively buck your hips up to meet his—

“Ah-ah-ah. Not so fast,” he clicks his large tongue. “I can bet you even let that guy fuck you raw and probably even cum inside you. Have you forgotten who you belong to?”

His knee jams between your thighs when you wait a second too long to answer, and hits your sweet spot. You bite your lip and try to stay composed.

“T-three weeks, Eustass, not a single word or anything. I thought you were done with me.”

He snarls into your ear, knee pressing into your clit harder, almost insulted. “Really? You thought I’d be done with you? What a stupid, fucking idea, Y/n, did I fucking stutter when I said this pussy is all mine?”

You squirm away from him, but his hand rubs you harshly though your thin bodysuit, eliciting a pathetic whimper from your throat. “No, but—”

“Then I don’t want to fucking hear it,” Eustass’ fingers dip under the layer of fabric, pushing it to the side, and plunge deeply into your throbbing wet core, clenching his jaw at how your soft, warm walls grip him just right. He’s effective in shutting you up and reducing you to whines as his thumb traces over your soaked, puffy clit.

“You only get this wet for me, right?” You try to maintain eye contact as he curls into that spot inside you, and can only nod your head, gaze averting from his smug amber eyes.

“You know, I’m not done with you until I say I’m done, so I don’t get why you’d go around giving my pussy out to other guys when I told you what would happen.” His eyes smirk at how you clench at his possessive words. You note how he’s trying to sound tough and mean, but there’s a softer tone than usual. He’s butthurt, and might actually be sorry. His next words are extremely serious however.

“So you’re going to pick your punishment doll. Either I kill that motherfucker for stealing you away from me and you watch,” (your heart does backflips because it was more like Eustass being in your thoughts stealing your attention away from the man), “ or, or, you take the fall for Mr. Perfect and I keep going no matter how much you beg and cry, hmm?” You know the obvious answer. Eustass was threatening you with a good time and reclaiming you as his when you never stopped being his. No matter how much you tried.

He’s out of patience, not like he ever has any.

“Well?” He removes his fingers and slaps your clit harshly, the yummy stretch replaced with a harsh sting.

You snap out of your pleasured trance with a moan.

“S-second one, Eustass, use me up, please,” you cry, the way you say his name with your pretty pouty lips making his dick twitch. He fights back a smirk at how easy it is to make you beg.

“You better cut that dipshit out of your life then, because you’re my fucking plaything, and I don’t share with anybody, got it?”

And right when you nod, he’s pulling your bodysuit off and keeping his clothes on. His fingers are back inside you, and the redhead’s smeared painted lips are suctioning on your clit, not even giving you a single second.

“Oh, fuck,” you groan, but can’t move your hips because he’s holding you down with his big, heavy weight so you’re forced to take it 100%.

“Dumb, desperate kitty. I know you can’t get enough of my cock or last even a few weeks when I’m on a voyage in hell. That right, ya spoiled brat?” he’s rumbling before he goes back to tongue-fucking your hot walls, smearing your juices around your clit and spitting on your pussy to add to the mix.

You can do nothing but whimper, “mhm,” as he makes himself more mad.

“Was there anything special about him?” He fucks you on his hand, relishing in how you’re absolutely dripping with arousal and sucking his thick fingers inside you. A familiar heat begins to rise in your core as pleading tears fill your eyes.

You can’t think of an answer and open your mouth, but only whimpers come out; when he adds another finger your brain melts. It already feels like the girth of a cock, except curling to hit the g-spot that makes you yank on the feral male’s fluffy red hair.

“You were so fast to try and replace me,” he growls, and your thighs tremble over his shoulders.

“Tell me this,” he rubs your clit in perfect circles impossibly quick, making you buck into his hand greedily. You feel your high approaching, and you begin to convulse around him, and he nibbles on your inner thigh and holds you down again, effectively pinning you into the mattress.

“You’re not getting away, pretty,” he snarls, admiring how much he affects you as he keeps pumping his fingers in, “tell me—were you successful at replacing me with a little boytoy?”

Your breaths are heaving, you’re sobbing at how good he’s making you feel. “N-no! I wasn’t!” He laps at your clit and suckles on it like you’re his last meal before an execution.

As spots dot your vision, you scream, “only you can make me feel this g—oh!!!” Your back arches into his face as you come undone underneath his ministrations, and his cock is so hard it hurts as you splash his face.

He groans as he continues to finger-fuck you and lap up all you have to offer, his little taste of heaven.

Your body feels like the epitome of standing up too fast, except it’s lasting. But he’s not done. He takes out his fingers, sucks on them, and goes back down, dipping his long tongue inside you.

“I’m still pretty fucking mad that my princess thinks she can call up whoever she wants. You’ll help make me feel all better again,” he remarks, tongue dipping back in. It’s too much, your violent orgasm still has you reeling, and his tongue inside sets your nerves ablaze.

You suck in his tongue so nicely, and he massages your walls with the muscle and prods at the spot that makes your toes curl.

“Oh fuck! Eustass! G-gonna…gonna…” new tears fall down your face as you beg him with your eyes. He chuckles against you, the vibrations making you spasm until you find your release once again. He moans into your plush pussy at how wet you are and how you feel squeezing his tongue. The smell of you, the taste of your arousal, has him drunk and wanting more. So does he stop to give you a break? He absolutely does not. He smooshes kisses against your sloppy pussy—his favorite and only pussy—and scissors his fingers inside you again. Now this is really too much. You plead with him to slow down, to stop, to give you a minute.

“Remember, baby, you decided to get punished by me,” he carefully scrapes his sharp teeth against your clit and you squeal, grabbing his horns, “and I’m a wicked, awful, bad guy. I’m selfish. I’m rotten. I’m Eustass the Fucking Merciless.” He bites your thigh and breaks some skin at the same time as he rubs your clit that hurts. It hurts, because you’re way overstimulated out of your mind. His thrusting fingers are too much, you’re trying to push him away, but he’s too heavy. Too strong. Too big.

“Be a good girl and give up,” you hear him rasp, his pace unrelenting, and with sobbing pleas, he makes you cum again. And again. You’re basically numb at this point, throat dry from screaming, brain dead and unable to say anything that makes sense. Absolutely wrecked from pleasure.

“There, there,” he slaps your clit cruelly, and your whole body shakes. He’s still fully clothed and everything, and you feel it and are reminded of the power he has to reduce you to a pitiful whining puddle as he goes up to kiss you. You surrender immediately, pliable, weak. His tongue captures yours in a kiss and you tiredly feel down his warm, muscular body. You smell your heady scent and taste your arousal on him. All of your juices and devouring you has taken off his lipstick. His entire face is soaked in you. Because Eustass eats you like he fucking means it.

He eats all of your whimpers, and eventually you begin to kiss back a bit more, and he deeply laughs into the kiss, entire chest vibrating against your torso. “Little kitten,” he squeezes your cheeks, and kisses your scrunched, pouty lips. “Hope you’re ready to get fucked for real this time.”

You don’t even feel like you’re thinking while you’re getting the words out.

“M’your kitten,” you pout at him with glassy eyes that make him crumble, “need you inside me, please,” you punctuate with a tug on his clothing, and he gets up, wasting no time. He’s so pretty and tall as he takes off his outerwear, unbuckles his belts, takes off his pants. He climbs back on top of you in no time, panting through his mouth, amber eyes hooded in desire. Eustass Kid is weak in the knees for you, and he’s admitting it all over. He pumps his cock, squeezing the head and gathering his own slick on his fingers. He brings them to your lips, and you suck on them, tasting his sweet musk.

He’s so goddamn gorgeous, smiling down at how well you suck his fingers. He may have a smug expression on his face, but his eyes sparkle with something a bit more.

You spread your legs a little bit wider to give him room to slot his thick hips between you thighs. His thick head rubs against your still sensitive pussy, and he sinks in to the hilt in one thrust. Nothing could prepare you enough for how big of a cock he has, not even a regular sized man’s cock plus a couple of fingers. You blink back more tears you didn’t know you had, and he’s giving you no mercy as he thrusts into you again and again, with no regards to your crying.

“Gonna wreck you so. fucking. good,” he says through clenched teeth, holding your knees to your chest, as he reaches you so deep, you feel his tip kissing your cervix.

“Eu’! Slow down! Please! Please! Please! Please!” You whimper in time with his thrusts.

“You’re telling me to slow down, and begging me to keep fucking you. Which is it? Don’t got a lot going on up there, do ya?” he chides as he continues to slam into you, balls slapping you as you get wetter from his bullying.

“So mean, Eustass,” you whimper, creaming around his cock, as he brings a hand up to your throat. Your eyes roll up and tongue sticks slightly out. He groans at how well you’re taking him.

“And you like it, don’t you?” He glances at your jiggling tits and back up at your fucked-out expression. You are absolutely ruined already, and his cock hasn’t even been in you for that long.

You nod, a hand squeezing his forearm and he clenches just a little bit harder. You gasp for air and are even more turned on, and he lets go to watch you take in a sharp breath and moan it out.

“Yeah, I know you like it, I know you like getting wrecked, and that’s why you’re perfect fr’me, y’know that?”

“Y-yeah, I do!“

His voice suddenly softens, and it catches you off guard, but he’s still fucking you with the same force.

“No one can fuck you as hard as I can, right baby?”

His eyes..they hold almost a sadness? You grab the hand that was near your throat and turn and kiss it, which makes his heart flutter in his chest, but he’ll never admit it.

“N-no one can, daddy, ‘s’only you! I’m sorry daddy,” your brain is turned to mush and he sees it in your mindless eyes, and he groans and pins you down into a mating press, his heavy weight just about crushing you.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about,” he groans, and bites and kisses your neck. Your limbs squeeze around him to hold him as close and as deep inside you as possible.

“Want your cum in me, Eustass, please!” You sob in his ear. “Fill me up, I’m only yours! I’m sorry I got so lonely without you.”

He moans as he kisses your neck, still thrusting into you deeply and quickly. You decide to keep going, lost in lust and wanting him inside you forever.

“Need you, please don’t leave me, m’ your fuckdoll,” you moan, and his eyes snap to yours. His pupils are blown so wide.

“Shut the fuck up,” he growls, and he kisses you, wraps an arm around you, and rolls you both over so he’s fucking up into you and holding you close on top of his chest. Your moans are drowned in his kiss, and you feel so safe, so amazing in his warm embrace. His long, massive arms cover just about your entire torso. Your hands hug around his head, and he’s barreling into you sloppily, frantically, like a wild beast in a desperate rut.

“As if I’d ever leave you,” he mutters lowly, and his last thrusts are slow, before you feel hot white gushing inside, coating your insides. You both moan, and kiss, and he slows down to a halt for a few moments.

His heart hammers in his chest as he looks up at you, and you blush.

“What?” You ask, flustered.

“Fucking brat. I only left because ‘m falling for your dumb ass.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing. Turn around,” he sneers.

“But—!”

He manhandles you, pulling out and relishing in the way your juices dribble out of your pussy. He sits up and turns you around with his strong hands.

“Sink back down. Now.” You do as you’re told. He’s still fucking hard.

“Good fucking girl, now stay still like a little doll,” he lays you both back down, and grips the bottom of your thighs and lifts them until your knees are to your chest. He hooks his arms around your legs and holds your head so you’re in a full Nelson. You squeeze into his thick arms for support.

“Look how well you grip my cock,” he groans as he thrusts deeply into you, your pussy gripping him on the way out.

“Oh fuck,” You moan at the sight.

“It’s so clear you don’t want me to leave, even your pussy doesn’t want to let go. So I guess I’m stuck with you,” Eustass rumbles over the sound of skin slapping and slick spreading as if that’s the most reasonable conclusion..which it is.

“I’m made for you, no one else makes me feel so good, so full,” you whine, boosting his ego as he slowly hits your sweet spot.

“Yeah? You mean it and not just lying to me?” He grunts, glad you’re unable to see how much he’s hoping you’re telling the truth.

“You ruined me, can’t enjoy it if it’s not you, need you, only you Eustass,” you confess, and you swear his cock twitches inside you.

He unlatches you. “Fuck,” he snarls, and changes positions so you’re in doggy. “Say that again,” he grips your ass, and you turn to look at him, and whimper at how intently he’s looking at you.

“Only you can fuck me this good, I want only you forever,” at the forever, he inhales a sharp breath, the pretty sound leaving his pretty lips, plus the fire in his eyes threatening to consume everything around you, plus his thickness filling you in this position, plus his balls slapping your clit, plus the way his giant hands hold your hips so securely, makes pleasure fill your brain again to the brink of overflowing.

“Yeah? Well shit, gonna keep you then, Y/n,” he all but whines. Hearing him say your name with such breathlessness makes you clench around him, and he rubs circles on your clit.

“You gonna cum for me? Again, you selfish little princess?” He coos, as your fourth orgasm of the night approaches.

“Yes, Eustass! So close,” you whine.

He keeps pistoning inside you and stimulating your clit like the perfect incubus. “Good baby, cream around my cock just like fucking that,” he moans, and you see white once again, screaming silently, eyes clenching tightly. He goes a few more thrusts into your clenching cunt, and moans as he spills inside of you.

He’s panting a little, and you’re collapsing into the bed.

“Such a weak human,” he smooths over your lower back, slowly pulling out and admiring the cream pie. You’re actually pretty strong for being able to handle him, and he finds only you as worthy of his cock specially for that reason.

You feel yourself on the brink of passing out when you feel him help you to the restroom so you can take care of business. You sleepily wash you hands after and collapse in the mattress, tired out of your mind. Then you gasp at a warm, wet towel wiping you clean. He’s probably going to leave soon, you think sadly. Why did you tell him not to leave you? So stupid …though…wait…didn’t he tell you he was falling for you?

Then the mattress groans and sinks behind you as you lay on your side.

A large arm snakes around you. Wait what?

He leans his face into the crook of your shoulder. “Because someone is so clingy,” he mutters, and you roll your eyes because he’s the clingy one. You shift to turn around to face his warm chest, and almost hear purring when you set his arm back to curl around you more. “Mhmm,” you sleepily hum, and his heart leaps at how sweet and adorable you are, two things he’s very unfamiliar with but has come to love. He can’t believe he’s doing this, watching you sleep.

You both relax in each other’s presence. Quiet.

When he’s sure you’re asleep, you hear him whisper,

“Fucking love you,” as he admires your resting form.

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#[✏️] speaking in tongues #demon papí draws #eustass x reader #eustass kid x reader #eustasscaptainkid #eustass kid smut #eustass kid x fem reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece smut #tw monsterfucking #z​oro smut #sanji smut #luffy smut

[ridiculously-over-obsessed]

Ooh how about 19 please? 😍

Absolutely! Also this made me check under my bed for cameras or you because I had in fact not eaten today because I am ill and hadn't psyched myself up to go make it, but I have since rectified that fact dfklgjdflkgjfd

ANYWAY, on with the prompt!

prompt list here!

19. “Have you eaten anything?”

It had been a long and hard week in Seattle for Beca. The call had come in the middle of the night, leaving her to scramble out of bed and hastily cram some clothes into a bag before heading to the airport.

Her mom was in an accident. It looked bad, really bad. Her aunt had told her that she had to get here just in case. So she did, she put all her flight anxiety to oneside and sat in the metal death tube for five and a half hours, flagged down a cab, and went straight to the hospital.

She got there just in time to say goodbye to her mom, sat squeezing her hand tightly as the life support machine was turned off, sobbing into her shoulder as she lost her mom for good.

As her next of kin, Beca now had to figure out what to do with all her mom's stuff, organise the funeral, inform the members of her family what had happened. She emailed her professors to explain she needed a few weeks off and they were thankfully very understanding, the Bellas had offered to drop everything and come out to help her but she turned them down. This was her responsibility, her mom, she had to sort this whole mess out.

"Have you eaten anything?"

Beca sniffed softly as she shook her head. She had been sat on the front porch of her childhood home, staring vacantly out at the street, barely noticing the chilly wind that bit at her skin. She had grown up in Seattle after all, she was used to this kind of cold.

"No. I'm not hungry."

There was a soft sigh from above her before the porch creaked next to her, turning her head slightly to look at the woman now sat beside her. Chloe gave her a small, sad smile, tucking a loose lock of hair behind Beca's ear. It was limp and a little greasy, Beca having been far too busy and lost in her grief to even entertain the idea of a shower since she'd arrived in Seattle.

"You need to eat Becs. You've barely had anything since you got here."

"I know." Beca swallowed thickly, subtly shifting closer to Chloe so she could rest her head on her shoulder, "But everything makes my stomach turn."

"You want to try some soup?" Chloe offered, winding her arm around Beca's shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze.

"Maybe." Beca nodded a little, "That could be nice."

They sat in silence for a few moments, Beca curling more into Chloe's embrace, slowly trying to get as close to her as possible. Chloe didn't mind, it was one of the reasons she had insisted on coming with Beca. She knew how difficult Beca found it to open to people, to be emotionally vulnerable with anyone, the only other person in the world that Beca would be this close too, figuratively or literally, was her mom.

"I don't want to go tomorrow." Beca's voice was thick as Chloe felt the side of her neck where her face was buried start to grow damp.

"I know baby..." Chloe sighed softly, rubbing small circles on Beca's back and kissing the crown of her head, "But you have to. You'd never forgive yourself if you missed the funeral."

"But if I go then it'll be real..." Beca whispered, "She'll really be gone Chlo, I... I don't want her to be gone, it's not fair."

"It's not." Chloe shook her head, feeling Beca start to shake as her gentle tears turn into sobs, "You're right, it's not fair that she's gone. I wish I could change it for you."

Beca didn't say anything for a while, simply sobbing in Chloe's embrace. Chloe stroked her hair, shushing her softly but letting her cry herself out. She hadn't cried since the hospital, and that had been five days ago. Beca was really good at bottling her emotions up until they exploded out at the wrong moment, and with a loss of this magnitude, if she crammed it all down it would destroy her. So Chloe would let her feel everything that she needed to, let her be angry or sad or irritated or tired, or even a combination of the above, and not take it to heart, because at the end of the day at least Beca was feeling something.

"I'm really glad you're here." Beca croaked as her sobs subsided, sitting up a little as she wiped at her face with her sleeve and resting her forehead against Chloe's, "I... I wouldn't be able to do this without you. Thank you for coming."

"Of course." Chloe smiled at her brushing her hair from her face again, "Even though you insisted on me staying at home?"

"Yeah." Beca managed a small grin in return, "I'm glad you didn't listen to me."

"C'mon." Chloe took Beca's hands in hers, gently encouraging her to her feet, "It's cold out here, your hands are turning red. Let's get you something to eat inside."

"Okay." Beca nodded, "Would you be mad if I said I wanted pizza and not soup?"

"No." Chloe grinned, arm around Beca's waist, "What made you want pizza instead?"

"Mom and I really like this place a few blocks away, they do these insanely good cheesy garlic knots." Beca shrugged a little, expression getting watery again, "I just... I thought it would nice to share that with you."

"That's really sweet Becs." Chloe beamed at her, "I'd like that."

"Cool." Beca swallowed thickly, eyes roaming over the familiar interior of the home she had grown up in, feeling that ache settle in her chest again, "I wish she got to meet you Chloe. She would've loved you."

"Me too." Chloe nodded sadly, "I never got to thank her for giving me you."

#pitch perfect #pitch perfect fanfic #bechloe #bechloe fics #bechloe fanfic #beca mitchell #chloe beale #fanfiction #my fic #mini fic tag #ask meme things #prompt things #massivedrickhead