#did they wake up wondering where the other was for weeks after the breakup? did they find each other's clothes mixed up in theirs?

[introspectivememories]

cannot stop thinking about loguetown shuggy and im not talking post-execution shuggy. loguetown shuggy as in the two-year gap between reaching raftel and roger's execution. like that was it!!! that was the universe giving their chance to be together!!! to get it right!!!! except they were what? 14? 15? so of course they got it wrong!!!! of course they fucked it up, and now they've spent decades apart and buggy's got a good thing going with crocodile and mihawk and shanks is finally ready to claim the one piece or whatever and the last time they properly talked was at their captain's son's execution. funny how the only thing that seems to bring them together is death

#we do not talk about that two year gap enough #do you think they got an apartment tgther? do you think they got jobs? #do you think buggy picked up work in like a quiet bookshop and shanks picked up work by the docks? #do you think they woke up tgther and argued about who had to make breakfast? do you think they picked out furniture tgther? #do you think it was sickeningly domestic? and when the breakup happened did they pack up their stuff in silence? #did they wake up wondering where the other was for weeks after the breakup? did they find each other's clothes mixed up in theirs? #save me loguetown!shuggy save me #cannot stop thinking about the universe's shitty timing. oh if only you gave it to them later in life #if only they were old enough to understand what they had and what they could lose if they gave it up #but yknow what they say. this is a very old story. somebody has to leave first #and yknow what they say about tragedies. they're set in stone. they were going to fall apart anyway #shuggy #akagami no shanks #buggy the clown #op

[ranaissingle]

Hi! I think you’re writing is so cool! How do you feel about writing something with Austin proposing to reader in like the cutest loving way?!

Are You Gonna Be My Girl ?

Masterlist Fandom: Austin Butler Rating: T Word Count: 906 Warnings: commitment issues, straight fluff otherwise tho. A/N: I love this idea! I'm sorry it's a bit late I finished writing this days ago and had it set to automatically post at 9 pm but Lisa Marie passed away earlier that day and it didn’t feel right to post this right after that so I decided to wait a couple days out of respect. I hope you enjoy it!

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You and Austin had been together for a little over 3 years and had started dating when he wrapped up the filming of Elvis. Your relationship progressed quite slowly due to the fact that his last relationship was a 7-year one and commitment on that level scared him away from serious dating for years after his breakup.

You weren't one to push either. Although you would have liked for him to ask you out sooner, you were content with the casual coffee meet-ups and late-night movie theatre soiree. So when he did eventually ask you out, he was certain to pull out all of the stops because he had felt horrible making you wait for so long while he got himself together.

It was safe to say that you were the best decision of his life, to say the least. Austin had never felt truly loved in a relationship before. He always felt like there was an underlying motive for his escapades. Be it because they were more successful than him or the other way around. None of those relationships felt like just that, a relationship. It was always more of an exchange rather than anything else. But with you, it was different. He didn't need to try with you. He could just be, and that was more than enough for you.

He had this date planned for weeks. You were going to spend the whole day together. He was going to wake up late in bed with you wrapped around him, serenade you with brunch while he pawed your fingers under the table, woo you with a peaceful day at the art museum filled with forehead kisses and side hugs, and then reel you in with a 5-course meal at the most delicious seafood restaurant that new york had to offer. He had the whole proposal planned out the seafood restaurant had a private dining room in the back. When you both finished dessert and were washing down the last of whatever cake you chose to share with wine, he was going to get on one knee and ask you to spend the rest of your lives together.

Of course, Austin had to make it to the dinner to be able to propose to you then. But seeing you walking around your shares apartment with messy hair, a mug of tea, and the house cat in your arms was doing wonders to make Austin's job difficult. There was absolutely no chance he was going to make it to dinner at this rate. He was completely and utterly doomed, and he wasn't even mad about it.

Screw it, you both could still enjoy the festivities he had planned originally even if he proposed right this second. He reached into the drawer of the nightstand to pull out the velvet-covered box with all of his hopes and dreams for the future tucked inside. He thought he did a pretty good job picking out the ring. You weren't a fan of the more classic engagement so he went for something different albeit just as beautiful.

He walked out of the bedroom and over to where you were cuddled on the couch with the cat.

" Hey, do you mind if I steal you from the cat for a sec? I have something I need to ask you?" His voice wavered as he spoke. The nervousness was kicking in and his hands began to shake.

"Of course baby" You smiled and lifted the cat from your lap and got up to follow him back into the bedroom. Austin closed the door behind you both as he put his back to the wall and took a deep breath.

" Are you alright Austin? You're looking a little red. Is everything okay darling?" Your worried tone as you stepped close to him only made him fall for you more.

"Baby I love you so much. I had a whole day planned out so that I could ask you in a way that was more fitting but I just couldn't wait anymore." He saw the confusion and worry creep its way onto your face as he spoke but he kept going all the same.

" I want to spend the rest of my life with you, love. I want to wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep with you every night. I want to keep bringing you a late in the morning so that I can see your face light up and order sushi for us when we don't wanna go out. I love you so much I don't know what to do with myself when you aren't around. So, I guess I'm saying all of this to ask you, will you-" His throat choked up before he could finish. He hadn't made eye contact with you the entire speech because he was terrified of seeing your face. Nonetheless, he swallowed thickly and finished.

" Will you marry me, love" He heard a sob leave your lips as you scaled the space in between you in record time to kiss him. You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck as you cried happy tears into his neck. You pulled away to clasp his face in between your hands and look into his eyes.

"Yes, a thousand times yes Austin! I love you so mu-" His kiss cut you off. His lips were soft and plush against yours as he hugged you impossibly closer.

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Done! I hope you enjoyed it!

#austin butler x reader #austin butler fic #austin butler series #austin butler fanfic #austin butler #austin butler elvis #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler imagine #austin x reader #austin #austin butler smut #elvis presley imagine #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley #Proposal #ring #austin butler fluff #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x fem!reader #austin butler x you #austin butler x race neutral reader #austin butler x

[neymarsangel]

Ballgowns and Galas - Neymar Jr x reader

Neymar Jr x female!reader

Requested? Yes/No: i would absolutely love a ney imagine where he and the reader (perhaps an actress or a singer) used to date during his early fame. they truly loved each other, but broke up eventually due to certain issues. as the years go by, they both date other people to get over the horrible breakup (all attempts ended up failing, they're still pining over each other 💀) so flash forward after a few years, ney and reader happen to meet at a gala / party bcs they were both invited. imagine the TENSION between them.. like "oh okay you're there and i'm here and this is all really happening"- that ended up really long </3 ILY AUTHOR your works truly have mesmerized ♡

Warnings: Fluff, some angst, implied smut

Word Count: 4.4K

AN: Sorry I’ve been gone for so long my loves, I’m back with all the fics you could ever want to request <3

—

Neymar was the ex-boyfriend you knew would never leave your mind. The two of you had dated when he quickly rose to fame but things, unfortunately, fell apart. Your career started to take off, you’d been contacted by major film directors and before you knew it you were in a different country every week with a camera in your face. No matter how much either of you tried to move on from one another it was always unsuccessful. Being an actress you were always swarmed by dating rumours, whether it was a co-star or just your assistant and Neymar kept track of every single one of them. 

Since the two of you split you two hadn’t spoken to one another and you hadn’t gone to any of his games. You used to turn up every week, whether he was playing for his country or his club but now the seat you once sat on was cold and it had been for many years. Although that wasn’t to say you didn’t care about him. You would still keep up with his matches, silently cheering for him every single minute. Your heart broke whenever he was injured or when he lost a match that clearly meant the world to him but you hid your feelings, the two of you were on different paths now. 

Little did you know Neymar was the same. He let as many girls as he could fling themselves towards him in an attempt to get over you but he was always unsuccessful. Sure he’d had a few relationships which had been very public but they never lasted, his head always drifted off to you no matter how much he tried to forget. Much like you with his football he always made an effort to watch what you were starring in, whether it was a period drama or a heartfelt rom-com. He would always wake up in the early hours of the morning to watch any award show you were featured on and although it killed him to see you smile without him he also knew he’d rather you be happy without him than you be upset whilst you were beside him. 

You’ve been in the news a lot recently due to your new project. Top Gun: Maverick was taking the world by storm, especially tiktok so it was no wonder why you and your co-stars were invited to attend. You were staring alongside Miles Teller and not to mention Tom Cruise, both men constantly praising your performance which landed you several calls from big Hollywood directors. 

“Excited for tonight?” Your hair stylist, Nat asked as she began her magic on her head. “A few people of interest are going tonight…” She smirked at your reflection in the mirror before her. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You looked up from your phone, your eyes meeting her curious ones. 

“Well, there are some good-looking guys there… Harry Styles… Micheal B Jordan…. maybe if you get with one of them tonight you’ll finally stop crying over your ex.”

“ I don’t cry over Neymar!” You whipped your head around to give her a glare. “We split apart years ago.”

“And yet you too still make the headlines alongside one another.” She turned your head back to the mirror. “Maybe it’s a sign.”

“A sign for what?”

“To get back together.”

“A second ago you were telling me to fuck another man to get over him even though I am over him, it’s been years.” You lied and she knew it. Your heart would always stay with him no matter how many years went by.

She shrugged, the smirk on her lips still planted on her face. “The world works in mysterious ways y/n.” Rolling your eyes at her you went back to your phone, texting your co-stars who were attending the gala with you. 

The charity gala always brought in those who always hit the headlines, whether they were from the world of sports, fashion, music or film, or anyone you could think of. The event consisted of celebrities wearing their most expressive clothes whilst they paraded around a red carpet for all the photographers to see. They’d make their way inside and gaze at all the charity items up for auction before sitting down for a meal. After the food the auction would begin before it eventually ended with most celebrities getting drunk and regretting the money, they’d spent. 

“You look beautiful…” Your stylist smiled as you smoothed down your y/f/c gown. The dress hugged your body like a glove, showing off every curve you had. Smiling at her compliment you kept your eyes on the outfit. 

“You have really outdone yourself with this.” You turned around to face her, your smile beaming brighter. “Thank you…”

“Anything for Hollywood's favourite star.” She mirrored your expression, walking over to you and giving you a few last-minute touch-ups before the car came to take you to the event. 

—

The flashing lights of the paparazzi blinded you the second you stepped out of the car and onto the red carpet, your name being called in every direction filled the air as you flashed a smile towards the cameras. Your head darted to the side to catch a glimpse of the other celebrities who were walking off towards the exhibition. 

After posing for a few more photos you started to make your way down the carpet when a sudden loud noise grabbed your attention. Loud screams grabbed your attention as all the photographers suddenly turned their attention to the person who was leaving the car. The sudden commotion also caught your attention but unlike everyone else, you weren’t screaming for joy at who had left the car. Within seconds, you were making eye contact with your ex-boyfriend for the first time in years.

Of course, Neymar was here.

Your heart was in your throat at the sight of him. 

You hadn’t seen him in person since the day the two of you parted but there he was, standing right before you, his eyes burning into yours. You ripped your attention away from him, knowing that even that small yet longing glance would cause headlines and a surge of attention onto the two of you online. Your eyes searched for an escape and you found one in an interviewer. Her name was Madaline, and she always attended premiers and a few other galas you’d been invited to so a familiar face was all that you needed to put some distance between you both. 

“Madaline, hey!” You called to her whilst she checked her phone, the copper-haired girl looked up at you, a smile bright on her face as she caught your gaze.

“Y/n! Oh my God, you look stunning!” The pair of you embraced as if you were old-school friends. “You up for an interview?” 

“Of course!” Returning the smile your eyes darted over to Neymar who was now posing for photos before looking back at her as she handed you a microphone.

“Ready?” 

“Yes.” You took a deep breath, pushing Neymar to the back of your mind before focusing on the questions at hand. 

“Your dress is absolutely stunning, who designed it?” 

“Everything was made by the genius that is Vivienne Westwood.” You smiled, looking down at y/f/c dress which sparkled in the light. “Even the jewellery.” You gestured to the diamonds hanging from your neck. 

“It’s beautiful. And I see you have a small charm on your bracelet.” She pointed to the band around your wrist which had a small diamond plane hanging from the metal. The charm was a small added touch from Westwood representing one of the biggest films you’d been in this year. 

“Oh yes,” You held it up for her to see. “It was another one of Westwoods touches.”

“Does it come with a mini Tom Cruise inside of it?” She asked, a light laugh escaping her lips. You followed her laughter before letting your hand fall to your side. 

“If only it did.”

“I do have another question…” 

“Ask away.” 

“You and a certain co-star were getting rather close in Top gun… Miles Teller I believe it was.” 

Rumours had been flying all over the place when the two of you were filming despite the fact that he had a wife, a woman you’d met and grown rather close to during the many months of filming and even though you’d been seen with his wife many times in public and behind closed doors, fans still speculated that the pair of you had a fling going on. 

“I can assure you that nothing is happening between the two of us, he has a wife and -”

“Do you have someone?” Her brows arched yet she had a hesitant expression on her face, worrying that you’d snap at her invasive questions. 

“No, I do not.” 

“But are you looking?” She dared to ask more. 

“Love will come to me when it’s ready.” You replied, not wanting to talk too much especially as your ex was closing in on you. “And until then I’ll spend my evenings with a glass of wine and my cat.” 

The pair of you shared one last laugh before she bid you goodbye. This time you didn’t dare look back at him, your heart was pounding after those last questions, thankful she never touched on the subject of Neymar. You entered the large dimly light hall which was lined with numerous items which were to be bid off to you and other celebrities who were in attendance. 

Taking small elongated steps your eyes scanned every single item that was on display until your eyes fell on a large painting. The frame glistened as it kept the painted horse inside, allowing it to dance before your eyes yet never leave. The horse was rearing and with every blink, you could have sworn the animal grew in beauty. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” A smooth voice you knew all too well floated through the air. 

“Ney…” You looked over at him as he stood beside you, his head turning to meet yours. 

“How are you y/n?” 

“You never come to things like this, your father always hated the idea of you spending tons of money at events like this.” You took in his features, his hair was different, last time the two of you shared a glance with one another he looked as if he was joining a boy band. He’d cut it shorter and he’d grown a slight beard, making him look older, more mature than he was back then. “Did you know I’d be here?”

“As welcoming as always y/n.” He gave you a warm smile. 

“Sorry I umm… It’s just been a while.” You looked away, your eyes focusing back on the painting before you. 

“Several years.” Neymar raised his hand, guiding your chin back to face him. “Too long y/n…”

Your heart melted at his words, it was no secret that you hung up on him and had been since you split. No man or anyone for that matter would ever be able to numb the pain of the pair of you falling apart. The tension between you both was building by the second, both of you high on the feeling of the two of you being back in the same room. 

“How’s Jareth?” He referenced the cat he gave you just before the two of you split. Only the week before the gala you posted a photo of you and the black cat when he was a kitten vs now for his birthday. He was getting old but he was one of the few things you still had to remind you of Neymar. Ney had watched you fall in love with the film Labrythn, especially David Bowie’s character, hence your cat's name. He knew you had to have your own little Jareth in the form of a cat. Since then you got Jareth a few siblings, naming all of them after fictional characters and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, Neymar knew all their names.

“You know I never stopped watching your games.” His eyes softened at your words as you paused. His hands still lingered on your chin. “Do you know how hard it was to watch you get that injury in the world cup? Ney you nearly ended up paralysed-”

He smiled at your worry, the pair of you split just a few weeks before the World Cup, at first he just pushed it to the back of his mind to focus on the football but everything changed when he had his injury. When he was in the hospital all he could think of was how you used to take care of him every time he had the slightest graze or a career-threatening injury. He would often look over to the spare chair next to his bed and imagine your tired face making sure he was okay, much like you had done all those years ago. It was that day he realised how much he really did miss you and what you had wasn’t just some childish relationship. 

Neymar let his hand fall as he took a step towards you, his gaze never dropping from yours. “Why did we fall apart y/n?”

You scrunched your brows at him. “You know why, we fell apart, both our careers went in opposite directions and we never came back together, you moved on-”

“So did you.” He jumped in, eyeing you up as he spoke. 

“You could say that.” Shrugging you turned back to the portrait of the horse. You and Neymar both knew deep down that the pair of you never got over one another, in fact, the way the two of you were eyeing one another you wouldn’t be surprised if you just ripped off one another's clothes there and then. “But then so did you.”

His eyes followed yours as he became fixated on the painting before you both. “To an extent… I got used to you not being around, I never got used to the rest.” 

“Like?” 

He smirked as he spoke. He leant down, his lips hovering above your ear. “I never got used to the feeling of another woman around me, I always just wanted you… I never got used to the feeling of another woman's lips on me… you know y/n I got used to your presence not being beside me but I never got used to never feeling you again… do you know how many of your films and shows I’d watch and see you kissing another man and beg God to let me take his place?” 

Chills ran down your spine at his words before you replied. “You know you could have just messaged me, you know I’d let you come back into my life… with time.” 

“Time?” He whispered, a small laugh escaping his lips as he spoke. “I wasted too much time being away from you.”

“You can’t blame me for that -”

“When did I ever blame you, my love?” Neymar leant down, planting a kiss on your cheek from behind stepped away, his eyes glancing over at the painting you were once eyeing before he turned away and headed towards the hall for the event that was due to take place. 

Your heart dropped at the sight of him leaving. His words implied he would come back but with Neymar, you can never really be sure. Your eyes wandered back to the painting you once had your heart set on but not your heart was set back on him. The spark you once thought had died down had been ignited once again. The headlines would be slashing yours and his name as much as they could after your little interaction, but would you really go back to him? 

—

“I didn’t know he was here…” Your assistant who happened to be your best friend asked as she sat down beside you at your designated table. Her eyes glanced over to his table a mere few meters from yours before she spoke again. “Did you?”

“Of course not.” You set your glass down. “I wouldn’t have turned up if I knew.” 

That was a lie and you knew it. 

“Have you spoken to him?” Her gaze remained fixed on you. 

“Briefly -”

“And?”

“It was just small talk.” You lied again, this time taking a sip of the drink in front of you. “We haven’t spoken since we split and that was years ago. Just small talk and nothing more.”

She knew not to press on, after years of questioning you about Neymar she always knew deep down that the pair of you clearly had a small flame of love burning for one another but with the break-up being as public as it was she just kept her mouth shut. 

You could feel his eyes burning into you, wanting nothing more than to meet his soft gaze you flickered over to see if he was still watching but to your avail a booming voice caught everyone’s attention. “Welcome back everybody!” The host of the event announced. “It’s nice to see some familiar faces and some new ones.” His grey eyes wandered around the room. “Now we have some beautiful things up for auction tonight and I’m not getting any younger so let’s start, shall we?” A round of cheers danced through the room as items started to be dragged out onto the stage for the room to bid on.

The night dragged on, you laughed with your friends as you drank and watched everyone bid on their favourite items. You really had no interest in any of them other than the painting of the black horse from earlier. Before Neymar interrupted you your mind was imagining it proudly standing on the wall by your stairs. You’d been needing a piece to make the house feel more put together and that horse would frame everything perfectly. 

Despite the number of glasses before him, Neymar was only getting drunk on the sound of your laughter. He’d give anything to hear you laugh at his jokes one last time. Sure he knew he was pinned up on you when the two of you broke up but he never knew he’d crave you this badly after one short encounter. He wanted to leave, hating the idea of you being so close to him but he simply couldn’t have you, not yet anyway. His eyes shot up to the stage where he saw the large horse painting you were clearly in love with. He sparked up an idea… You’d either hate him for this idea or you’d love him for it but he was willing to take that chance. 

“And now… our final item is this beautiful hand-painted portrait of one of the world’s most stunning creatures. The bid will start at one thousand -” Before the man could even finish his sentence Neymar held his auction number in the air, giving a small nod to the man.

“I have one thousand do I hear two thousand?” 

Narrowing your eyes at your ex-boyfriend you held your own number up. He turned his head slightly, a smirk on his lips as he met the gaze of the man and held his own number up again. 

You knew what game he was playing and you weren’t going to let him win. 

The two of you went back and forth with each other, the pair of you never sharing a single thought about the amount of money you were spending on a simple painting but hey it was for charity so that doesn’t matter, right? 

“Oh come on y/n, you can’t bid that amount of money, it’s too much for that.” y/b/f complained, huffing in her seat at yours and Neymar’s childish antics. 

“He knows what he’s doing, he wants to get one more thing over me before the two of you actually call it quits.”

“So you’re telling me there’s still something there?” 

“y/b/f -” 

“Sold to the gentleman in black!” The announcer spoke, catching your attention. Whilst you and y/b/f had been arguing you’d forgotten to put your number up one last time meaning Neymar won the painting, it was all his. 

“Fucking prick.” You spat under your breath. The sudden lust you’d had now turned into loathing. He knew how much you wanted that painting and yet he still wouldn’t let you win, not even one last time. You finished up your drinks and left, wanting nothing more than to be with your cats, even if Neymar was responsible for buying the first one but unbeknown to you he had a plan, one that meant this wouldn’t be the last time he’d be seeing you. 

— 

A week had passed and there was no Neymar in sight unless you count the ongoing headlines about you both but that was something you refused to engage in. When you found yourself alone in bed you often wondered to his contact in your phone, debating if you should send him an angry text about him stealing the painting which clearly had your name written all over it but that would only feed into his ego. 

Currently, you were laying across your sofa, Jareth slowly falling into sleep on your chest as you read through your new script and let your hand smooth down his black fur. The small echo from the tv was the only noise in your house until the doorbell made poor Jareth jump in his spot. The elder cat let out a cry of a meow at the noise. Setting the script down you scooped the cat up and held him against your chest and crook of your neck, cooing at him as you opened the door. 

“It’s alright old man.” You kissed his head. “Probably just Jannet ordering some packages and isn’t in to collect them.” You referred to your neighbour as you met the eyes of a man you knew all too well. Neymar stood outside, a worried expression on his face which he tried to cover up with confidence. 

“y/n…”

“What do you want? And how do you know where I live?” Your brows furrowed at the sight of him. 

“y/b/f isn’t good at hiding secrets, you really need a better assistant.” 

“She does fine thank you.” Your words were filled with venom as you spoke. 

“You look, good old man.” He now turned his attention to the cat, a smile on his lips as he watched a familiar sight. “He looks good for his age.” 

“Because I take care of him.” Arching your brows at his words you leant against your doorframe. “Why are you here?” 

His smile dropped slightly at your words but his confidence attempted to shine through his demeanour. “I wanted to give you something.” He reached to the side and pulled out a large wrapped item from behind your wall. “I’m sorry -”

“For?”

“Everything. I fucked up. The pressure from this stupid sport should have never led me to losing you.” 

“And you think a wrapped gift is going to fix all of that?”

“No, but I hope it’s a start. I’ll fix this if you’ll work with me. We both know there’s something still there.” Your eyes met his hopeful ones. He had a point and if the two of you took things slowly and built on what you used to have you knew you could fall back into his arms, probably a lot faster than you wanted to admit. 

“Come in.” You held the door open wider for him, allowing him to drag the gift which was bigger than him through into your front room before closing the door. You placed Jareth on the counter before turning to watch Neymar place the gift on the floor, his eyes longing on yours as he rose and made his way over to you. 

“Please just open it.” 

You gave him a silent reply before shifting your body towards the gift. Neymar took his place where you once stood, next to Jareth whilst you kneeled down and slowly pulled the paper back to reveal the gift. All your anger filtered away when you were met with the eyes of the horse painting you once fell in love with at the gala. You started to connect the dots, he’d won that bid just as a way to see you again and make amends. Looking up your heart melted even further when you saw what he was doing.

When Jareth was a kitten Neymar used to cuddle him like he was a baby and rock him around like he was your child. Jareth used to always snuggle his head into Neymar’s side when he carried him like that and just like old times you watched as Jareth cuddled into Neymars side as he cooed him like a baby. 

“Ney…” 

“I’m sorry I made you feel like shit at the gala but I had to win it because I needed to see you again.”

“You know you could have just messaged me and asked to see me.” You stepped over the painting and walked towards him. 

“Not as romantic though, is it?” He smiled. “I know it’s been years but I want to try again. I never stopped loving you y/n, no matter who I was with I just wanted you. I still do. I know it’ll take time but I’m willing to wait a lifetime if it means I can spend even just a night with you.” 

“You always had a way with words Ney.” You leant up and kissed his cheek, your heart swelling at the sight of him and Jareth. “On one condition.”

“Anything.” His eyes were fueled with hope. 

“We get another cat.”

“I’ll buy you a whole island full of cats if it means you’ll give what we had a second chance.”

#neymar one shot #neymar fanfic #neymar imagines #neymar x reader #neymar x y/n #neymar x you #neymar fluff #neymar smut #neymar #neymar jr #football imagine #football fanfic #football #football x reader #football x y/n

[avatar-anna]

I would love to see pregnant y/n and Harry end up together again 🥺 as I read it, I wondered if there were reasons as to why he thinks he fell out of love with her, if he even put effort into rekindling flames that he thinks went out, but were really still there and things just got a little clouded. If maybe spending some time with pregnant y/n would help him realize that he does still love her and just let a little obstacle get in the way.

third and final part!!!

part i, part ii

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

three years later

Harry was a mess.

On the outside, his life looked nothing short of perfect—a fantastic career, a beautiful son, a girlfriend that loved him. He should've been happy, he should've felt fulfilled, but he didn't. His son was his whole world, and he loved his fans and making music, but still felt incomplete.

A new girlfriend maybe? He'd been with her for about six weeks, which was usually around the time he found a reason to break up with his partners. Hailey (and you, obviously) had been the only one who lasted longer than that, so much so that she grew close to you and you'd become good friends. It was a few months after Parker was born that Harry broke up with her. Hailey had been upset, and rightfully so. It had come out of nowhere, and after everything they'd been through together, after becoming attached to little Parker, he was just kicking her to the curb, and he couldn't give her a sufficient reason other than, "It's just not working."

Hailey scoffed at that response. "Pull your head out of your ass, Harry. Your still in love with Y/n," she'd said to him, and those words had been haunting him ever since.

Was he still in love with you? He didn't think so. There were moments where he'd stop and wonder where everything went wrong, but he was the only one to blame for that. Like Hailey, your breakup had been out of the blue.

He'd be lying if he said that finding out about you being pregnant and realizing you had no plans to tell him had struck him dumb. It felt like a slap in the face, a wake up call. He'd hurt you so badly that you didn't even want him around your baby. That was a tough pill to swallow, and Harry did his best to be better, and for a time it worked. You and Harry had worked out a schedule that accommodated the two of you, he went to appointments and birthing classes, and he held your hand as you finally gave birth to Parker. That moment in the hospital as you held your son in your arms and Harry was right next to you and admiring the little bundle in your arms was as close to perfect as one could get. He felt more whole than he had in a long time with just the three of you, that he couldn't comprehend why he'd ever let you go.

And then Hailey and the rest of his and your family were in the room and celebrating. Hailey kissed him and went over to you to admire the newborn, and that should've been when everything felt perfect, but it just wasn't.

After Harry broke up with Hailey, he hadn't had a steady relationship since. You always made fun of him for being a stereotypical "rockstar," but he was pretty sure you were secretly worried about him. You'd try to set him up on dates and give him advice, but that only made him more lost. You were treating him more like a friend or family member rather than someone you used to be in love with, and he hated it. He didn't have a right to, he was an asshole, an utter dick for feeling that way, but he couldn't stand it.

Fast forward to Parker's second birthday, and like an idiot, Harry had only made things worse. He convinced himself that you would never take him back after everything he'd put you through, and that made him angry with himself, but he took it out on you. He'd said some things that weren't kind, things he knew would strike a chord deeper than one of your usual both-of-you-were-exhausted-and-didn't-mean-what-you-said fights, and that was the night Harry knew he'd lost you forever.

You co-parented obviously, but things weren't the same. You were nothing but professional to him, only wearing a smile when Parker was around. You knew Harry had been an ass to you on purpose, but Parker came first now, and you were done trying to figure out what his odd mood swings meant. Unless he was physically unwell or appeared to be a danger to himself, he didn't occupy much space in your mind.

So much so that you found yourself seeing someone. Hailey, who you still kept in touch with from time to time, set you up with a lawyer from her firm, and you hit it off. He was practically the opposite of Harry in every way possible, but that's what drew you to him.

Things between you and the lawyer weren't serious, not when your son came first. Any relationship you had from now on would be slow-going, but he didn't seem to mind, and his understanding made you like him even more.

It had been so good that you decided to invite him to Parker's third birthday. It was a small affair as your son was only turning three years old, but when he and Harry shook hands for the first time, you wondered if you made a mistake.

Harry was upset, more than he had any right to be. You looked happy, happier than he'd seen you in a long time. Parker was the light of both of your lives, but this was different. You looked calm, relaxed, at peace with the trajectory of your life.

He couldn't believe it. You'd moved on. Harry knew it would happen one day, that he'd have to sit back and watch as you made a life that had less and less of him in it, that there would come a day where he wasn't H or Harry to you, but merely Parker's father.

That thought him filled him with so much fear, that he had to step away from the party. He'd been watching you all afternoon as you held hands with your perfect boyfriend and laugh at jokes he was sure weren't even funny. Harry knew he got incredibly petty when he was jealous, but this was a whole different monster. He was angry that he was the reason for being in this position, he was angry at you for moving on after he realized he never fell out of love with you, but scared of just how in love with you he was that he had to run. But mostly he was tired. He wanted what you had, he wanted you, and he was tired of trying to fill the hole in his heart when he knew there was only one person capable of filling it.

He hid in your kitchen while the rest of the party went on without him—age appropriate music playing from a speaker, parents from your neighborhood all talking and laughing and bragging about their kids, and you, standing there in a sundress looking as beautiful as the day he first laid eyes on you.

"Daddy?"

And then there was his reason for living, his whole world.

"Parker, my love, what are you doing in here? The party's outside, silly boy."

Parker merely raised his hands. Harry technically wasn't supposed to be indulging his son in carrying him because apparently he became so accustomed to being carried, he cried a lot when he wasn't in someone's arms. But since it was his birthday, he decided to let is slide just this once.

"Why are you inside, Daddy?" Parker asked, squishing Harry's cheeks together and pulling them apart.

"It was a little too loud outside. Daddy just had to come inside for a moment."

"Oh. You could cover your ears. Like this."

Harry smiled as his son covered his own ears to demonstrate. "That's a good idea, bubba. I'll have to try that."

He thought that Parker would give him more advice on how to drown out the noise, and after his next question, Harry almost wished he had. "Daddy, why don't you and Mommy live in the same house?"

Holy shit, kid, Harry thought. Why couldn't Parker ask you that?

"Well, some mommies and daddies live together, and some don't. It's more common than you think."

"But Bailey said her mommy and daddy live together because they're in love. Aren't you and Mommy in love?"

"It's a different kind of love, bubby."

Both Harry and Parker turned to where you were standing by the entrance to the kitchen. At the sight of you, your son's arms immediately reached out to you. You shot Harry a pointed look before taking Parker into your arms and running a hand through his hair, curly and dark brown like Harry's.

"What do you mean, Mommy?"

You shrugged. "It's just different, my love. Like...are apples and oranges the same?"

Parker giggled. "No! They are different. You're so silly, Mommy."

"See? They're different but they're both...what's the word?"

"Fruit!" he said, jumping up and down in your arms.

"That's right. Love is like that. There are all different kinds, but you still call it love."

Parker was quiet as he digested this new information. You took a moment to look over at Harry, a question in your eyes. He gave you a thumbs up, mouthing that you did a good job.

"I want a fruit too!"

Unable to hold it in, you laughed. You kissed Parker's cheek before asking, "What do you mean, bubby?"

"I love you and Daddy, so I want a fruit."

"A very logical conclusion, Parker baby," Harry said with a mock serious nod.

"You can be...a peach. Because you're oh so sweet to Mommy and Daddy and we just want to eat you up. Isn't that right, Daddy?"

Catching on, Harry grinned. "Of course." He surged forward and kissed Parker's neck, making noises to make it sound like he was eating him. Parker squealed with delight, laughing more when you joined in, tickling his sides and kissing all over his face

When Parker's squirming became too much to handle, you set him down. You told him to go play with his friends, and he ran off, leaving you and Harry alone. It was times like this, when you spent time with Parker together, that the two of you seemed to be the most in sync. Harry felt more connected to you than he normally was, making him believe that they didn't have to love differently than the other parents.

"I'm sorry if bringing Will here made you uncomfortable," you said out of the blue.

"It's fine," Harry said, even though it wasn't, and you knew it too.

"Oh come on, H, you've hardly smiled all day. At least try to be enthusiastic at your son's birthday party."

"I'm sorry, it's just hard," he confessed. Was he really doing this?

"What's hard? That question Parker asked? I'm sure you would've handled it just fine.

"It's not that," Harry said.

Looking over at you, he wondered what to say next. To be selfish, or to let you live in peace. You had this warm glow about you, your sundress hugging your figure perfectly. You looked so beautiful Harry wanted to cry. How could he ruin the life you'd built for yourself?

But at the same time, how could he keep living knowing the love of his life might be the one that got away?

"H? What is it? You look like you're about to pass out. Do you need to sit down? Let me get a cold towel—"

"I love you."

There, he said it. It was out there, and he couldn't take it back.

Your whole body stilled. Harry watched you closely to try and gauge your reaction, but you didn't give much away. "What?"

"I love you." Oh God, he said it again. "I love you, and I know it's incredibly unfair of me to say, but I can't keep living like this. You—You're moving on and living the life you deserve to live with that lawyer out there, and I know you've probably moved on, nor do you owe me a response, but I just had to say it. I don't think I've ever stopped loving you, I was just terrified of how strong my feelings were, so I tried to stomp them out, and—And I feel like all I've ever done is cause you pain or frustration, but—but I love you, and even if you move on, I'm not sure I will ever stop."

You still hadn't moved. You were frozen in time, slowly processing and turning over every word that was said. You were pretty sure you were in shock.

Harry stood and watched you process his confession. He felt frozen himself, but it was more out of fear. You weren't saying anything, you weren't even looking at him. He knew it was a lot to take in, especially because you'd only become cordial towards each other in the last year.

"Y/n? Can you say something please?"

"Why are you doing this, Harry?"

You finally looked at him, really looked at him. There were hints of a five o'clock shadow and purple crescents beneath his eyes. You'd seen Harry in varying states of fatigue before, but you chalked it up to it being from working or touring or just being a father. Now you wondered if it was something different.

"What do you mean?" he asked. He tried to come closer, but you held your hand out.

"I...I pined for you," you said, surprised by the break in your voice. "I waited for you to say those things two years ago. Hell, even after we—"

Harry ended up staying late that night, the two of you in a unique situation that only the two of you really understood. You talked mostly about Parker—how fast he was growing and the words he was learning and how he loved to sing along to Harry's music. It was nice. Things between the two of you had been fractured for so long, but sitting there talking about your favorite person in the entire world seemed to mend some of the hurt.

You couldn't finish, overcome by emotions as you looked back to a year ago. Harry had come by to drop off Parker, and you invited him inside for a few minutes. He'd just broken up with another girlfriend, and you wanted to know why. He seemed to really like her, and she was great with Parker. The breakup wasn't shocking, but a teeny tiny ember of hope sparked in the deepest parts of you. It always did.

And then all of a sudden you were leaning in, and Harry was too, and you ended up all over each other in your bedroom with the baby monitor's volume on high in case Parker started crying in his room. It was nice, better than nice. You were already familiar with each other and knew exactly what you needed and when.

It had gone on and off until Harry started seeing someone again. It had been merely just letting off some steam, but stupidly in the back of your mind, you hoped. But then he told you he met someone, and you fought, and he left. And when that relationship with the other girl fizzled out, you didn't make the same mistake twice.

"I know, and I'm sorry. You don't deserve this, but I needed to tell you because—"

"Because I'm the one moving on this time, not you," you said, getting angrier and angrier by the second. "You know what I think? I think you've been miserable for a long time, and you need me to be miserable too, and now that I'm finally finding a life outside of you, you can't stand it."

Harry sighed, running his hand over his tired face. "That's not what's happening."

"No? Then tell me, Harry. Would you have said something if I was single?"

"I just didn't realize that you would—"

"That I would what? Move on from you? I'm just your back up plan, is that it? A safety net."

"You're not, Y/n. Please believe me when I say that I'm—"

"Is everything alright in here?"

Both of you turned around to find Will there. He looked between you, trying to gauge what conversation they'd been having before he interrupted.

Taking a deep breath, you mustered a smile you didn't feel and said, "Yeah. Yep, everything's just fine. I think it's time to get the cake and sing happy birthday, yes? I'll—I'll, um, I'll get all the kids together. H, can you get the—out of the fridge? Thanks."

You couldn't be out of your kitchen faster, leaving your ex and current boyfriend alone together. Harry looked after you longingly, wanting to chase after you and finish having your conversation. But with Will between him and you, he couldn't.

Your boyfriend pinned Harry with a stare, trying to determine what the hell went down in the kitchen. Harry didn't stick around long enough for him to find out, though, turning around to get the cake out of the refrigerator while simultaneously hiding the tears were threatening to fall.

When he turned back around, Will was gone, and he was alone in the kitchen. He'd upset you, but he knew there was a chance of that happening. He couldn't hold in how he felt any longer, no matter how it looked to you. He needed to get all of that out, and if it didn't go the way he wanted it to, then at least he knew he tried.

You didn't believe Harry was genuine, but maybe he if he could get his act together, tried to be someone you deserved, he might have a shot at changing your mind.

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

seven months later

You fucking hated Harry.

You had this perfect life—a beautiful son, a steady job, a boyfriend that cared deeply for you—so why were you hung up on the guy that broke your heart?

Since his little speech at Parker's birthday party, you hadn't been able to stop thinking about him. You shouldn't have, but you did.

He'd said everything you'd ever wanted him to say...two years too late.

But even though he was too late, and even though you'd finally gotten the life you wanted and deserved, here you were wondering if it was what you actually wanted.

Harry was...a complicated person, you knew that long before you'd broken up, but there was a reason you were with him all those years ago, and recently he'd become that person again.

His confession of love never came up again, but he seemed to be making some life changes. When you dropped Parker off for the weekend, his house was squeaky clean, he even invited you inside for coffee. Just to talk and catch up, he claimed, and that was all it was. He wasn't seeing anyone anymore, not that you could tell. Harry just seemed to be focusing on himself, and that made you really proud of him. He hadn't been an utter mess in the last few years, just a little lost, but he finally seemed to be finding himself again.

And then all of a sudden you were aware of how good he was with Parker. You saw it in park visits and Harry would play pretend with him, how he had his own little bag of things for Parker whenever he went out, and most importantly when he was the bad guy when Parker was throwing a tantrum. Normally reprimanding or being the "not fun parent" fell on you, but when your son asked him for a toy at the store when you'd already told him no, Harry agreed with you, and worked with him when he started protesting.

It was honestly the most attractive thing you'd ever seen.

But you weren't supposed to see him like that. He was the father of your son, that was it.

And yet you found yourself staring at him more, appreciating how he only seemed to get more and more handsome with time. He came over to fix something in your house, and you had to keep closing your mouth every time his back muscles flexed and raising your eyes to the back of his head and not how his shirt molded to his torso. You were feeling things for him, things you never thought you would feel again.

Your head was spinning when your boyfriend let himself into your home. Shit, you thought. He was taking you out tonight because Harry had Parker. You were nowhere near ready for date night.

"Hey," Will said. He kissed you, and you were quick to pull back, making it a peck instead of a normal kiss. Looking at you with furrowed brows, he asked, "Is everything okay?"

"I—I, um..."

You didn't know what to say. Would these feelings for Harry pass or were they here to stay? You had a good thing going with Will. Was Harry worth ruining that?

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

Harry had just finished putting Parker to sleep. They'd had a fun night of watching favorite cartoons and making dinner together—though Parker mainly just mixed things, he was two after all. He gave Parker his bath, read him his story, and finally tucked him into bed. Harry's bed, more specifically. Parker liked sleeping cuddled up to him, and Harry didn't have the heart to say no.

He was cleaning up a little downstairs, washing dishes and wiping down counters. He'd just picked up a dish towel to dry and put everything away when his doorbell rang.

"Weird," he muttered. He wasn't expecting anyone tonight, and rarely did anyone ever "drop by." Harry's home security was state of the art, so anyone who was at his door would be someone he knew. And when he opened the door, he definitely did.

"Y/n? What are you doing—"

"No, no. I speak, you listen," you said, swaying to one side. Were you drunk?

Harry tried to bring you inside, but you stayed put, claiming you were just here to tell him something. He had no idea what was going on or what the hell was wrong with you, but you looked determined, so he gestured for you to continue. "Go on, say what you came here to say."

You were quiet for a moment, fiddling with your shirt. Harry was going to ask why you were here again when you blurted, "I hate you!"

Well, that was painfully unexpected. He'd given you space after confessing he was still in love with you, but that had been months ago. He thought things were civil between you again. "Why?"

"Why? You've ruined me, Harry Styles. You broke my heart, you made me feel unloveable, and I finally, finally was able to be free of you, to move on. And—And you ruined it!

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you for months. You said all the things I'd ever wanted to hear after I moved on from you, and now here I am, making an absolute fool of myself because I can't get you out of my mind," you huffed, pushing your hair out of your face.

"Uh..." Harry wasn't really sure how to respond. On the one hand, he felt a little hopeful that you were finally coming back to him, but you still looked pissed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"But you did! You wanted to worm your way back into my life," you said. "I—I had the most perfect man, who told me he loved me today, by the way. And I—And I couldn't say it back, and it's—it's all because of you!"

"Had?" Harry asked. His whole body was buzzing

You nodded. "I broke up with him tonight. I couldn't in good conscience keep seeing him when I was feeling so conflicted. I felt horrible. I made him feel the way you did when you broke up with me, and I hate that I hurt him, but I couldn't—I couldn't—"

And then you were crying. Tears were spilling from your eyes faster than you could wipe them away. Crouching down, you held your face in your hands, feeling weak all of a sudden.

Though Harry was still buzzing with hope, he understood why you were so upset. He felt horrible when he broke up with you, and seeing you fall apart, having to leave you alone when you felt that way was torture. He knew what it was like to hurt someone like that. He didn't wish that on anyone.

Stepping outside, Harry walked over to you and pulled you up. "Hey, it's okay."

"It's not okay, though. It's not. I really liked him, but I couldn't do that to him. Lead him on when I'm so confused about how I feel."

He desperately wanted to know what this meant for you and him, but that could wait. You were clearly not okay. Hugging you against your chest, he ran his hand down your back. "You were honest. That's all anyone can ask for.

"He probably hates me now."

"Maybe, but he'll come to understand. You were right to say you shouldn't lead him on."

You straightened up to look at him, your eye puffy and red. "I can't tell if you're just saying this because you mean it or because breaking up with Will leaves a door open for you."

Harry held your cheek in his hand, wiping away a tear with his thumb. "That's not what I'm doing. I am your friend, you know."

A small smile flickered on your face, but it didn't last very long. "Can I see him?"

Nodding, Harry took your hand and led you inside his house. You followed him upstairs and down the hall to his room. It was a new house, not the one he had when you were together. It was a little smaller and didn't have so much modern furniture. It was homey and child friendly.

Parker was sound asleep on Harry's bed, holding his stuffed pig close to his chest with his thumb in his mouth. Why your friend gave you a stuffed pig at your baby shower, you weren't sure, but of all the stuffed animals and blankets, Parker settled on Mr. Oinks.

Careful to not wake him up, you crawled onto the middle of the bed. You touched your son's cheek gingerly. "Oh bubba," you whispered softly. He was growing up so fast, faster than you were ready for. You just hoped that when he was your age, his life would be much more smooth sailing.

Bending down, you kissed his forehead, smoothing his curly hair out of his face. You stood up after that, letting your baby sleep. Harry was waiting for you by the door, a fond look on his face. This was what he wanted, this was what his life was supposed to look like. He hoped that you finally realized that too.

Waiting for you to step out, Harry closed the door behind the two of you, leaving a crack open because Parker didn't like being in complete darkness.

"I should go," you said when you and Harry went back downstairs.

"Don't, it's late," he said. He didn't want you to go for a number of reasons, but he couldn't say them out loud. Not yet. "I have a guest room. I can stay in there, or you, whatever makes you comfortable."

"You sure? I know I showed up out of the blue, so if you have anything to do tomorrow, I don't want to get in the way of that."

"My only plans tomorrow are waffles in the morning and a trip to the park with my boy," he said. Taking your hand, he kissed it. "But if I did, I'd cancel them all if you asked me to."

You were quiet, not meeting his eyes, just staring at your joined hands. Harry didn't have any expectations for tonight, or the next few nights, to be honest. You'd come to whatever conclusions you'd come to tonight, but that didn't erase the long-term relationship you had with Will. It might take a while to be ready for a relationship, but Harry would wait. He was done being with anyone else.

Still, her silence was making him nervous.

"What are you thinking?"

With your free hand, you reached up and scratched your fingers on the soft hair at the back of his neck. "I...I really want to be with you. I mean, that's why I came here, but it—it's too soon, isn't it? It feels disrespectful."

"You can take all the time you need, love. I know what I want now. I'm not going to do anything to screw that up."

Your eyes had tears lining them as you looked up at Harry. "I'm scared, H. What if we just mess it all up again? It didn't work the first time, who's to say it won't end the same?"

"I'm so sorry that I put you through so much," he said, feeling choked up all of a sudden as well.

"You don't have to say sorry, I just need you to reassure me that this is real."

"It's real, it's so real," he said, leaning down to kiss your jaw. "I'd marry you right now if I could.

That made you giggle, which was kind of what Harry was hoping for, even if it was the truth. "Okay, not that real."

"Let's just go to bed with our boy, and we'll take each day as it comes," he said. He saw the way your eyes kept flickering down to his lips, and maybe you did want to kiss him, but he knew you might regret it tomorrow morning because the breakup with your boyfriend was so fresh. "And if you're thinking about kissing me, you probably shouldn't because I won't be able to stop."

You laughed again, leaning your head back against his chest. "You're probably right. But I would like to snuggle our bubba if you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all," Harry said. It sounded amazing, actually. The three of you had never spent the night in the same bed together.

You both went back upstairs, Harry lending you some clothes to sleep in for the night. You were quick to slide in his bed, and almost like he sensed your presence, Parker immediately moved so that he was cuddled to your chest. One little hand closed around the material of your shirt while the other stayed wrapped around Mr. Oinks. Harry watched as you went straight to sleep with Parker wrapped around you. He was too excited for sleep, too happy that the stars were finally aligning, but he got in bed anyway.

Kissing Parker on the cheek, he laid his head down. His hand reached out to find yours, thinking he could just rest it on top. But you surprised him when you laced your fingers together.

It wasn't perfect, and it wasn't going to be easy, but Harry knew what he wanted, he knew that this was the life he was meant to be living, his son and his girl together all the time. They were a family again, not perfect yet, but whole.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles oneshot #harry styles angst #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot

[thecameronchronicles]

Closet Confessions

TW: Cheating. Smut. Semi-public sex. Language. 

SUMMARY: Your ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement with Rafe came to an end not that long ago after he began dating your friend. But you two just can’t seem to let it go…

WORD COUNT: 1200

*Requested*

Request ❤️ Rafe and the reader were secretly hooking up almost everywhere but decided to cut it off when Rafe got together with one of the readers friends

Butttt..when they are at party Rafe can't handle it and takes her into a closet of something?

Closet Confessions

There wasn't a section in the entire Outer Banks in which he hadn't made you come. Not a position you hadn't tried or hidden space you hadn't made your own. But that all changed a few weeks ago when he had ended this string of hook-ups and began officially dating one of your friends. Of course, the fact you weren't boyfriend and girlfriend, had meant that you didn't have to endure the ordeal of making your friends choose sides through a messy breakup. Instead, the only thing that seemed to change had been the fact that you didn't use each other for that specific outlet anymore. 

Where he had her, you had the memories of him to use through your attempts to move on. Attempts that became harder every time you saw them together. His arm draped across her shoulders as you couldn't help but wonder if he called her all the same things that made your heart flutter as if that smile on her face was any indication, they were as happy as they were intertwined. Annoyingly so. And yet, his eyes would pull upwards towards you every so often in a silent regret that you weren't the one beneath his arm. But with this left unspoken, you were only left with a monetary glance and sorry eyes that eventually prompted you to need distance. 

Luckily, you would find a distraction in one of your shared peers, a name that didn't matter but a face handsome enough to forget about him. But only for fragments of time. This was worsened as you could feel his eyes shift to you. Even as his arm was wrapped around her and his lips were taking hers in pecks, his mind seemed to remain to you. Frustrated with this, you pulled your conversational partner to the section of the beach house used for dancing and allowed him to paw you publicly, in the way Rafe never did. Whether it was this silent victory or the way the music had controlled your thoughts, you had forgotten of the sting of their presence before needing a reprieve. 

Exiting the bathroom after slipping away for a time, a sudden force pulled you into a hallway closet just large enough to fit you as linens and a vacuum cleaner joined the space you quickly learned to harbor Rafe. 

"Careful, this might be kind of hard to explain to your girlfriend…" 

"What are you doing?"

"Being kidnapped I think.. "

"I know we agrees to end this, but I still care about you…and seeing you flaunt yourself like this-"

"Flaunting? I'm living, Rafe. I don't have anyone to tie me down…but just remember that YOU were the one who ended this between us. Not me-" You reached for the door but he spun you against it, a gasp expressed from your lips as he pinned you to its cold wood. 

"I have fought calling you every goddamn night…But you're here…in the dress that's my favorite for how accessible it always was," His fingers traced up your thigh as you simply allowed it. You craved his touch, familiar to you, so much so that you didn't care for the guilt in hurting your friend. You just wanted more. And you showed this by pulling the collar of his shirt toward you until his lips were dangerously close. 

"Letting someone else touch what was mine not even a few weeks ago-"

"And how do you think I feel seeing you with her? Knowing you've touched and kissed and-"

A soft kiss interrupted you as your list continued. 

"Knowing she's heard you pant her name," Another kiss, another interruption. 

"Knowing she's been able to wake up in your arms while I've been-" This kiss that would silence these words would be done with tenderness, as if it had acted as an apology in its itself. But your hands pushed at his chest. 

"I don't want to share you, Rafe." 

"I haven't fucked her." You cocked your head, "I cant…"

You rolled your eyes as he would slip his fingers beneath your dress, disposing of your panties, before lifting you against the door and away from gravity. 

"Not when all I can think about is you." He kissed your chest. "Your skin…" the soft moan from your lips would make him list this aloud as he used his free arm, not wrapped around your back, to expose himself at the near promise of a relief.

"You clenching around me…Even if I've tried…I can't because my cock knows where it belongs…"

"Then why is she smiling like I used to after you'd make me come?" He paused. 

"Because I tell her all the things I wish I wouldn't told you…show her off as I should have done to you…but I always think of you-"

"Then why are you with her?"

"Because you told me no. And she is the closest I can get to having you…" 

"You have me close right now.." He nodded, taking you onto his cock. 

"And I'm going to remind you thay you're still fucking mine…" He breathed against your lips, taking the back ofyour neck in his grip as you built in speed over his shaft. Sweat allowed an easy glide before you were taken against his mouth as he had to silence your whimpers. 

"Your moans are so fucking sweet, they're addictive…YOU are addictive-"

"Yeah?" He nodded. 

"Then overdose, Rafe…I want to make you so high that you need me-only me." You explained, running your hands through his hair and tangling your tongue around his. 

"I do-"

"Fuck…" You breathed as your back pulled into an arch. 

"I'm gonna fucking come…this dress, this goddamn pussy, it's all making me-"

"The come…come inside me right now, Rafe…I'm close…I'm so close knowing you want me…" You pulled his hair to make him look at you. 

"But tell me you want me."

"I don't want you-" Your eyes narrowed. "I fucking need you." These words were the final push necessary to reach that high, those cruel thrusts of a mutual release keeping you in tremors before he would return you to your soles, pulling down your dress and adjusting your hair. 

"What the fuck are we gonna do?" He asked while you fixed his shirt. 

"You are gonna keep playing the role of a dutiful boyfriend….while I get to have the benefits-"

Your name was spoken in confusion and warning as you kissed his lips. 

"You want me, Rafe? This is how you can have me…" You left the ball in his court, well aware that you would only hurt each other if making an attempt to be monogamous, but still unable to part. So this, whatever this selfish need had been, would be what was possible for you to still know his touch and for him to have you close. And that would be enough. 

For now…

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae

#rafecameron x reader #outer banks #obx #drew starkey #outerbanks #rafe cameron #obx fanfiction #outer banks smut #rafe cameron smut #rafecameron #netflix #rafe cameron x reader #obxsmut

[bizaar]

Cruel Summer - Part 4

First - Previous - Next

pairings: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary: After breaking up, you and Eddie do your best to soldier on with your lives, but you slowly begin to discover that there is a stronger line of connection keeping you together than just history…

word count: 5k

warnings: angst, mentions of Starcourt Mall deaths, as always, so sorry if I forgot anything!

A.N.: babysitter!reader part 4 - the timeline is a little wonky regarding the Starcourt events, but time is a manmade concept and therefore doesn't exist so you'll have to forgive me! the return of Uncle Wayne, MVP and still the #1 dad figure

You spent the rest of the summer hanging out with Dustin, Lucas, Max, and Mike, for lack of anything better to do while you waited out the ticking clock counting down to school starting again. You told yourself you were just trying to help fill the gap that Will had left in their lives after the Byers’s big move to California, all the while fully aware of and ignoring the way you were trying to fill the gaping, Eddie-shaped hole in you with all the nonsense that went with the Party’s teenage boyhood — plus Max, who still kept you at a healthy distance, despite having known her for the better part of two years now.

You don’t hold it against her, she’s got enough on her plate dealing with the implosion of her family in the wake of her brother’s death. Billy was an asshole and you had not enjoyed a single moment you'd ever had the misfortune of spending in his presence, but it didn’t make it any less shocking to hear he’d died in the fire that destroyed the Starcourt mall, along with countless others, along with a friend you’d known since childhood.

It leaves you a little more than shell-shocked, thinking about the weeks you'd spent with her while you were trying to ignore the way Eddie was avoiding you in the weeks leading to the breakup. Thinking about how much time you'd spent in and around the Mall.

Your old group of friends had not been so fond of Eddie, in fact, they’d outright hated him, and had unsuccessfully tried to warn you against him when began to show interest in you. When their warnings about steering clear of the freak fell on deaf ears (how could you resist the way he’d smiled at you in those first moments, so boyish and shy, stumbling over his words and making an absolute fool of himself?) they’d decided to give you a bullshit ultimatum to try and save you— him or them.

Of course, you’d chosen Eddie outright, much to their outrage. It had seemed like the right move at the time, despite the social suicide you committed in doing so. You didn’t care about lost popularity, you would have gone to hell and back for Eddie, and your so-called friends would never understand that, so they'd cast you away like yesterday's trash, along with any social standing you'd held at Hawkins High. You didn't care — being popular was exhausting, and you much preferred the life you led with the so-called freak... that is until not even he wanted you.

Eddie's sudden absence from your life did not go unnoticed, and when he disappeared, one of the kinder girls from the old guard reached out — for pity or old times sake you could not tell— but suddenly you were spending days at the public pool and nights at the Starcourt Mall. It was shades of your life before Eddie, spending the summer like the average American teenager and silently wondering where the hell your stupid boyfriend was.

Your friend died the night the Starcourt Mall burned to the ground. She'd begged you to come out with her that night, and you'd declined, partially because you had absolutely no interest in third-wheeling with her and Billy Hargrove, but mostly because you were too caught up stressing about what Eddie's problem was and why exactly he was ignoring you.

If you’d gone with her that night, you might be dead too. 

You attended the funeral, where you were ignored by the rest of your old friend group — the joys of social pariah-ism— you could hardly make yourself care, much too caught on the jagged edge of thinking very hard about your own mortality. You think about your family, about Dustin and the Party, about all the people you care about and all the people who care about you. You think about Eddie, too, of course, and you wonder bitterly whether he would even go to your funeral if you’d died while he was so busy avoiding you. You can’t say.

Eddie hates funerals.

In the end, it doesn’t matter, because you didn’t go with her that night and you didn’t die, so you don’t have to worry about whether or not your shithead ex-boyfriend would come to your funeral. 

The final weeks of summer come and go, and you manage to stop thinking about your breakup and your mortality long enough to throw your weight into helping to prepare your gaggle of children for the looming threat of High School. You spend full afternoons in the Wheeler’s basement, walking the Party through what they can expect as freshmen like you’re running an incredibly intense session of D&D. You do your very best to channel that same gravitas you’d seen in other examples of Dungeon Mastering (watching Eddie) affecting your “serious babysitter” voice and laying down anything and everything they will need to know.

The effort is something akin to herding kittens as everyone is far too distracted with their own nonsense. Dustin only wants to talk about everything that has changed since you graduated High School and continually – annoyingly– asks if you are okay (you assure him time and again that you are fine but still, he insists on asking), you can't tell if Mike misses Will or his weird little girlfriend more and spends hours upon hours moping pathetically, and Max and Lucas are so busy breaking up and getting back together that you're fairly certain they haven't heard a word you've said over the course of the long hours you've spent lecturing them.

It is extremely annoying, but you can't deny that you're thankful for the distraction, considering it is very hard not to think about Eddie all the time when he is everywhere you look.

Not physically, of course, you haven’t seen him since that terrible night, but he is always there, scorched into every inch of this town, clinging to you wherever you go like an inky black shadow that you cannot wash away no matter how hard you try – and you have tried.

You are so goddamn thankful when the first cool breezes of autumn begin to blow, bringing with them a rush of change that would have normally been enough to send a thick slurry of panic rushing through your veins.

They hit one right after the other, with enough force to give you whiplash.

First the breakup, of course, then the end to your adventures in babysitting – you were strangely okay with the way that long era of your life had been ushered into its final chapter, if not a little embarrassed about the way you’d sat blubbering on the Henderson’s couch when Dustin broke the news.

He was right, fourteen was too old for a babysitter, and at the end of the day, you were happy to let him cut the apron strings, even if you couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that you’d been fired.

Next came your friend’s funeral, followed very quickly by your family’s sudden announcement that they would be leaving Hawkins for upstate New York, where a shiny new promotion awaited your father. You, in turn, shocked them by insisting you would not be joining them, and while your parents put up a fight, there was ultimately nothing they could do to change your mind.

Your childhood home went to market, and as such, you were forced to clean out your room, which meant you were forced to address the box of all the things that reminded you of Eddie that had been sitting in the back of your closet since August.

You ended up leaving it on his porch in the middle of the night in a fit of moody pique, and you told yourself you didn’t care what he did with any of it. Part of you hoped he would just burn it all, and that it would allow you to be done with each other once and for all.

You'd had to let yourself hate Eddie just a little bit just so that you could finally try to start healing, and you'd been surprised by how easy it was to get there.

You’re not over him. You don’t know if you’ll ever be over him, but what you do know is you can’t condemn yourself to wasting away over something so silly as adolescent heartbreak, like some kind of fragile Victorian heroine.

You’ve got other shit to worry about besides the fact that Eddie Munson doesn’t love you anymore … and yet you still spend far too much time thinking about the way he’d pulled away from you that night, how he couldn’t look at you when he broke your heart – fucking coward.

Could be worse. You tell yourself, You could be dead.

It doesn’t make you feel any better. Your lease on your icebox apartment was approved the same day you went to ask after the “help wanted” sign in the window of the diner formerly known as Benny’s.

They hired you on the spot.

It feels a little bit like admitting defeat, considering how you’ve always sworn you’d rather jump off a bridge than willingly submit yourself to the slow death that is customer service, but you didn’t apply anywhere for college, so it’s not like you had a lot of other options.

To his credit, Dustin had tried his hardest to get you a job at Family Video alongside Robin and Steve, but it had been an exercise in attempting to move heaven and Earth.

You are not on good terms with the manager, because Eddie is not on good terms with him.

Keith used to run Hellfire, back in the day, and from what you understand he’d had a hard time letting it go when he’d graduated. You don’t know all the sordid little details, you only know it was extremely awkward while you and Eddie were dating, and it hasn’t gotten any better now that you’ve broken up.

It was bad enough having Keith stare daggers at you from the various dark corners of the Arcade when you would chaperone Dustin and the rest, but then it became a Herculean feat just to try and rent a video.

There’s no shame quite like having to beg on your hands and knees just to be allowed to rent some campy horror movie you’re really only planning to put on as background noise while Keith just stares back at you from behind his cold dead eyes.

It’s not your fault he doesn’t like Eddie, but he’d decided it was your problem. Guys like Keith never let go of a grudge, and regardless of your relationship status, you would be forever branded as the mistress of the enemy, so no Family Video for you.

It’s for the best. Robin is nice, but you don’t really know how to interact with Steve, particularly now that he’s supposedly turned over a new leaf. You guess he’s fine, considering he actually lets you rent videos without putting up a fight, but he was entirely unpleasant in school, particularly when Eddie came into the mix, so you don’t trust Steve by default, regardless of the way Dustin worships the ground he walks on.

As far as you’re concerned: once a mean girl, always a mean girl.

Despite how work keeps you busy and how you don’t babysit anymore, you still see Dustin as often as always. You have a standing invitation to join the Hendersons for dinner any night of the week – you go over on Wednesdays. Claudia, as she’d insisted you call her now —you still can’t shake how strange that feels — always makes too much food and sends you home with a Tupperware of leftovers, because she’s worried you aren’t eating enough.

Dustin talks about school and his new friends, and whatever news he has from California, and he tries and tries and tries to get you to come and meet said new friends because he’s worried you are isolating yourself.

While you appreciate the sentiment, you just don’t have time – someone always needs you to cover a shift, and no matter how many hours you work your paycheck doesn’t seem to get any bigger, and your bills don’t get any smaller.

So far, being an adult is far less fun and freeing than had always been advertised, and you're starting to feel like you've been sold a bill of false goods.

It’s December, and one of the first punishingly cold days of the season when you find yourself bored at work, standing in the corridor between the front of house and the kitchen, trying to warm your hands and talking to a coworker.

There are an infinite number of things you’d rather be doing than listening to a grown woman bitch about her kids, but the heating at the diner is on the fritz, and the only real respite from the chill is the salamander, where food goes to die under the heat of the lamps. You tell yourself it’s better than standing around, listening to the same old Christmas music, shivering under the itchy cotton dress that is your uniform, so there you stand, hands extended, zoning out, nodding periodically, pretending to commiserate.

She’s going on and on about how she’s dreading the holiday break because school days are the only time she gets to herself anymore and you’re biting your tongue to stop yourself from asking why she didn’t think to use a condom.

Her kids are elementary-aged and apparently singularly evil, and you kick yourself as you suddenly remember how you’d oh-so-casually mentioned in your first week of employment that you used to be a babysitter.

You’d just been trying to get to know people, to make new friends at work, and now you hate yourself for daring to be so genial. Serves you right. You can practically feel the question bubbling up between you.

She’s laying it on thick, hinting at her desperate need for someone to watch them “just for a few hours on nights and weekends,” (as if you even had the time for that) and you’re biting the inside of your cheek until you taste blood, praying to anyone who might happen to be listening that she doesn’t ask you to babysit her demon children.

Like divine intervention, the bell of the front door chimes – Thank you, God, Tiamat, Ozzy Osbourne … whoever! – and you take it as your window of opportunity to offer an apologetic smile and bolt into the dining room. Cold be damned, you will not condemn yourself to nights and weekends being tormented by screaming brats.

The spike of adrenaline that cuts through your midsection freezes you to the spot as you realize who has just walked in through the door. There stands Wayne Munson, shrugging out of his winter coat and sliding into the empty booth nearest to the front door.

You notice each other at the same moment, and he freezes, like a deer in headlights. Embarrassingly, the pad of paper you’d fished from your apron pocket in anticipation of taking an order slips from your fingers and clatters to the floor. Your heart has dropped into your stomach and the blood is roaring in your ears so ubiquitously that you can no longer hear the tinny din of Jingle Bell Rock playing over the radio.

Before you realize what you’re doing, you’re scanning the frosted windows in a panic, looking for that familiar mop of dark curly hair, following behind. You know if you see him you’re probably going to turn around and run right out the back door and never come back.

It takes all of your limited brain power to convince yourself that Eddie is not about to walk through that door. You know perfectly well that he won’t set foot in this diner. It’s part of the reason you applied here, being one of the few places in town where you knew you would be safe from a chance encounter – his mother used to work here… before she died.

The silence in the diner is deafening. It feels like a very long time before you manage to come back to yourself enough to pick up the pad of paper, square your shoulders, and approach the table.

“Hiya, Wayne,” you say, hoping you sound somewhere halfway to cheerful. Your voice cracks. “Sorry about that I–” you were about to say you didn’t recognize him, but suddenly you can’t bring yourself to lie, and now you’re silently working your mouth, gaping like a fish out of water. “I…I don’t know.” You shake your head and try to laugh about it. It sounds strange and robotic, “Sorry.”

He gives you a craggy smile and dismisses the notion with a gesture that is so entirely Eddie, you suddenly can’t breathe.

You try to think of the last time you’d seen Wayne. June – graduation. He’d brought you flowers and given you a shy hug and you’d felt so stupid craning your neck to look around him, trying to spot the familiar silhouette in the crowd. Eddie wasn’t there and Wayne could only say that he was real sorry about it. No excuses, no explanation, just an apology.

You suddenly wish you were still in the hallway, listening to your coworker complain about her brats.

“Don’t know what you’re sorry for.” Wayne mumbles, “You didn’t do nothin’ wrong.”

You find yourself exhaling slowly through your nose, releasing the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, and feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. It’s an odd relief to hear him dismiss the silent fears you’d been wrestling with since the summer, wallowing in the agony of “what did I do wrong”.

It’s good to know Wayne doesn’t hold anything against you.

Still, you fidget with the pad of paper, picking at the wire spiral holding it together as you search for the right thing to say.

“S-so … um… how’s –”

Don’t say it don’t say it don’t say it – how’s Eddie?

You have to clear your throat to banish the thought.

“How’ve you been?” You stammer, gesturing vaguely.

You could kick yourself for how stupid you sound right now, fumbling around like you were strangers, just because Eddie had decided he didn’t want you anymore, like some old plaything he’d outgrown. You could kick him for that, too.

“Fine. Good.” Wayne says, nodding, “How about you? Ain’t seen you since…” he trails off like he’s realized what he was about to say —ain’t seen you since y’all broke up — obviously. “Well… we heard you’d left town is all.”

We.

“No, just my folks.” you explain, “I rent a place in town.”

His face brightens like he’s relieved to hear it. It makes you feel strange and you half wonder if you are going to regret telling him that later.

“Oh,” Wayne says. “That’s good.”

You nod, too busy fighting the urge to bolt back into the kitchen to wonder what’s so good about it, and admonishing yourself for being so suspicious.

This is the most awkward conversation you’ve had in a very long time and you cannot wait for it to be over.

Of course, it’s then that you remember that you are a waitress and actually have some kind of obligation to do your job.

“You want coffee?” you ask, cringing at how brusque the question sounds.

If your tone is aggressive, Wayne makes no mention of it as he rubs his calloused hands together in an attempt to warm them.

He nods.

“Yes ma’am.”

You turn on your heel, your beat-up old converse squeaking obnoxiously on the tile, and stalk back to the counter. It occurs to you too late you didn’t ask about cream and sugar, but you remind yourself you know Wayne well enough to know he takes his coffee black.

It is yet another piece of intimate information you hadn’t been entirely sure what to do with until this very moment. You wonder briefly how much of this interaction is going to make it back to Eddie.

You can just imagine Wayne rolling up into the trailer that evening – maybe Eddie’s on the couch, maybe he comes out of his room to investigate the sounds of his uncle returning home.

“Hey, Kid—” Wayne will say, “You’ll never guess who I saw today.”

You bitterly hope it ruins his day, knowing you’d stuck around after he’d all but begged you to leave. It’s still so much easier to hate Eddie than feels right.

You return with a mug and pot of coffee, pouring and indulging yourself in a little self-destruction as the steam wafts up and burns your knuckles. It’s just hot enough to feel fantastic on your frigid fingers.

Suddenly, like an intrusive thought, you're caught wondering if Eddie ever got the heating fixed in his van. It had crapped out the year before in the middle of a deep freeze and you'd spent many a day sitting huddled together, trying to keep warm and having very tense conversations about the possibility of whether a space heater would blow up in the back of the van.

“How do you like it?” Wayne asks suddenly, bringing you back to the moment. “Your new place?”

You blink at him, trying simultaneously to ground yourself in the moment and think of the right thing to say before shrugging your shoulders.

“It’s okay.” You mumble, running your thumbnail over the grooves in the plastic handle, “Actually, I kind of hate it..."

You don’t know why you’d said it, only that it felt natural, like complaining to your dad about a grown-up problem he might have a fix for, only Wayne’s not your dad.

He hums, “You got bad neighbors or somethin’?”

“I’ve got leaky pipes.” It feels a little like oversharing, but suddenly you can’t stop the truth from flowing out of your mouth.

Wayne snorts into his mug as he takes a sip of his coffee, leveling you with a sly look from the corner of his eye.

“Don’t we all?”

His eyebrows jump and even though it takes you a moment to process the joke, you shock yourself by laughing out loud. Too loud. The sound of it echoes obnoxiously around the diner, nearly empty as it is at 1:30 on Tuesday afternoon.

It makes you sound like a crazy person, but you’d nearly forgotten about Wayne’s penchant for Dad Jokes.

You can’t remember the last time you’d laughed in a way that wasn’t some stilted thing for someone else’s benefit, to try and convince them you were fine while you were silently holding yourself together, trying not to fly apart at the seams.

It feels good.

“Hey, there she is.” Wayne smiles shyly into the mug, “It’s good to see you again, Sweetheart.”

It’s like a dam breaking as the awkwardness of the moment evaporates and your affection for the man comes rushing back in.

You can feel the corners of your mouth pulling up and you smile at the joke, at the notion that someone is happy to see you, at being reunited with someone you didn’t know you would miss so much.

Suddenly, you’re so pissed at Eddie for being so selfish that you’re half inclined to smash the coffee pot. Wayne had been your friend, a father figure in the absence of interest from your own.

You wonder briefly if he’d let you hug him. Like he’d anticipated the whim, Wayne gestures to the seat opposite him.

“Can you sit and talk a little?” Wayne asks, “I think we owe each other a few rounds of catch up,”

You twist and look around the dining room, at the singular creepy regular perched on his stool at the end of the counter, outstaying his welcome and doing his best not to show how he’s watching you.

It’s a ghost town, and not likely to gain so much as a single customer until school lets out. You tell yourself you can either go back into the hallway and take your chances at refusing to babysit the apparent hellspawn of your coworker, or you can sit and talk with Wayne for a few minutes.

It’s an easy decision to make.

“Mmmm, I don’t know,” You hum, “We’re pretty slammed.”

Wayne smirks as you slide into the booth opposite him.

You spend the better part of an hour with idle chatter, catching up. You do most of the talking, complaining about your apartment and all its problems, your job, how you wished you’d applied anywhere for college, and how expensive it is to live on your own.

Wayne listens, nods, and drinks his coffee, and you don’t talk about Eddie, despite the way you can feel him lingering between the two of you.

It almost feels like getting back to normal and you fool yourself into thinking that if you shut your eyes, you could imagine sitting at the tiny dining table in the living room of the Munson trailer, talking to Wayne about your day while you wait for Eddie.

You can almost pretend he’s still right there, that any moment he’s going to come trotting out of his room, usher you up from the table, and lead you out to the van, though not before bidding Wayne so long, and thanking him for the chat. Sitting there, talking with Wayne, you can almost pretend Eddie still loves you...

Of course, all good things must come to an end, and suddenly the bell chimes as the door swings open announcing the arrival of a gaggle of high schoolers. Their presence shatters the stillness as they file in, laughing and chattering and assaulting you with the golds and greens of the Hawkins Tigers splashed across their letterman jackets and cheer uniforms.

You feel a strange sadness with the way the moment ends so abruptly, and how Eddie’s inky shadow is suddenly gone taking all the air out of the room with it.

Somehow, it's like time here in the diner exists in a vacuum, and after he leaves you’re never going to see Wayne again. Because he belongs to Eddie, and you have no right to breach the post-breakup walls that have been erected.

He got Wayne and the band and all the guys at Hellfire in the divorce, and you got to not die in a mall fire. It doesn’t seem like a fair trade-off: your life for everyone in it?

Once again, foolishly, you are struck by just how badly Eddie had hurt you, and you can’t help but wonder if he knew what he was doing, if he’d gone out of his way to do everything in his power to break your heart.

Still, you can’t bring yourself to damn him, not with Wayne sitting right there — it would feel too much like a betrayal. You were the only two people in the world who saw Eddie for more than what the rumors had made him out to be. You were the only two people in the world who loved him.

You hate yourself for the sharp pang of grief that lances through your chest and try not to think about how much you’re going to miss Wayne when he leaves today — how much you miss Eddie.

It makes you a little misty-eyed.

If he sees it, Wayne pretends not to notice, because he is a gentleman.

You watch the high schoolers file into the large booth on the opposite end of the room and wait to see if your co-worker will come out to take their orders. She does not.

Of course.

“Well, that’s my cue.” You sniff, clearing your throat and scrubbing furiously at your cheeks to try and banish any lingering emotion.

You push up from the booth, contemplating the milkshakes, French fries, and forced pleasantries in your immediate future.

“What do I owe you?” Wayne asks, fishing for his wallet.

You shake your head.

“Coffee’s on the house.” You cut him off before he can protest, "No, you don’t have a say in the matter. My gift to you.”

You start across the floor, towards the far booth where the social elite of Hawkins High have piled in and are talking animatedly about something you’re sure you wouldn’t have been interested in even when you counted yourself among their ranks.

You before Eddie.

You cringe as you come to recognize a few faces in the group and are busy bracing yourself for the impending “hey, didn’t you use to…?” when Wayne calls your name.

You turn on your heel and stare back at him, where he is scratching the back of his neck and averting his gaze. Another gesture that is entirely too Eddie – somehow it’s a little more comforting this time.

“Let me know when you’re free.” Wayne offers, gesturing vaguely, “ I’ll come by and see if we can’t do something about those pipes, and all the other stuff.”

It’s a slow change, but you can feel your face splitting into a grin, warmth blooming in your chest. Wayne Munson, the gentleman handyman.

You nod and watch him get up from the booth, shrugging back into his coat and tipping his hat to you as he makes his way to the door. Suddenly, you are brimming with the possibility of a next time, something almost like the way things used to be.

Not with Eddie, of course. You're fairly certain that you're never going to see Eddie again, and you suppose some small part of you has started to make peace with that, but Wayne is family. It is almost enough to scratch that Munson itch you’ve been feeling since August, no matter how it might leave you feeling afterward.

You decide in an instant that you can stand to hurt your feelings a little bit and indulge yourself in the next best thing.

You can’t stop yourself from calling out,

“Hey, Wayne – same time next week?” You posit, tugging nervously at the sleeve of your dress.

He turns, thinks about it, then smiles.

“Yes ma’am. I’ll be here.”

Taglist: @harrys-tittie @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @itsrainingbisexualfrogs @thicksexxualtension @ganseysgff @scoopsr0bin @peanutbutter-y-jams @audhd-dragonaut @clilxlx @alexandriaemily20 @averagestudent03 @but-vanessa @cosmictime45 @timelordfreya @forever-war

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #cruel summer #stranger things fic #reader insert #some of the taglist inexplicably isn't working apologies for that I hope everyone who wanted to be included gets to see this! #i just really love wayne munson i have a lot of feelings about that man and they are all positive #cruel summer fic

[bengiyo]

Love Mate Eps 3 & 4 Stray Thoughts

Last week we met Seo Yi Jun and Jeong Ha Ram. Yi Jun is honestly an asshole who only goes out with people once on dating apps just to hang out before blocking the date. He pitched a mean-spirited "happily single" app at work, only to get dunked on by the newbie Ha Ram. Yi Jun and his work wife agreed to go out and try dating properly. Ha Ram has begun using BL tropes aggressively in pursuit of Yi Jun. We left at Yi Jun waking up after passing out from catching feelings and accidentally kissing Ha Ram.

Episode 3

"Take responsibility?" I hope when we finally see Ha Ram's room it's just full of manga and BL posters.

We've reached the stage of BL where smart watches contribute to "the heart knows."

I feel like the manager is maybe overstepping a bit?

My goodness Ha Ram lays it on thick.

Love that we're letting the BL happen so the work wife doesn't worry about your latest project. Oh, BL.

Of course they matched on a dating app and have compatibility.

The framing with the butterfly wings was cute.

I actually think that slap was well-deserved. I think he should have revealed his identity.

Episode 4

I feel a little bad for Yi Jun, because he did get all excited about this date. Still, he would have likely brushed off another stranger.

I need to know what they're eating. Is it some sort of chicken dish?

Oh hey they're outside the same building from Our Dating Sim.

Falling for someone attractive because they treated you kindly is quite valid.

Well, we all knew it was going to be a bad breakup. Ghosted by a cheating ex.

I like Yi Jun describing the feeling of being dumped unceremoniously as embarrassing, and wondering if his feelings were so insignificant. Was not expecting to appreciate his reticence so much, and at least understand why he's been kind of a dick to other guys.

Flirting over a claw machine my beloved.

Gays in photo booths are so important to me.

The shift in demeanor feels a little suddenly, but I'm not going to complain about a Korean team going for first date intimacy.

Finally, boys talking about their lips.

I'll forgive them waking up together dressed because the implications were good enough.

Ha Ram trying to leave quietly to spare Yi Jun the embarrassment of facing him was kind of endearing.

A ramen joke to affirm what happened? I'm okay with this.

Burgers the morning after? Good job, gays.

The admission of feelings felt a bit stilted, but that could just be the translation. I'm curious to see what they do with this.

I'll also give points for wiping mayo off of lips.

Okay! This show still feels a bit weird, but I'm into it!

#love mate #korean bl #bl series #Ben watches

[deliriumsdelight7]

57 for hellcheer please :)

Breakup songs for Hellcheer? SACRILEGE. Lemme see what I can come up with...

....Oh. Oh no. This one's gonna hurt, guys. Warning: eating disorder, suicide, drug overdose, angst no happy ending.

It was seven fifteen the morning after the big Hawkins High baseball game when someone came knocking at the front door of the Munson trailer.

The banging woke Eddie out of a fitful, anxious sleep, and he cracked one bleary eye open in annoyance. Staggering to his feet and shoving his legs into the nearest pair of sweatpants, he made his grumbling way to the door, wondering what asshole would wake him at this ungodly hour. Wayne wouldn't be home from the plant for another half hour, and all his friends knew not to drag his ass out of bed before nine at the earliest on a Saturday. It could be Chrissy, but he couldn't imagine the timid cheerleader pounding so impatiently at his door. Not even after months of gradually bringing her out of her shell when she came over every Friday night for her weekly dose of ket.

He wrenched the door open. "This better be... aw, fuck." Standing on the other side of the door, staring gravely at him, was Chief Hopper. "If it's a noise complaint, tell the Mayfields I'll turn my music down next time," he said, intending to do no such thing.

"Not here for that, Eddie." Hopper put his hands on his hips, looking like he wished he was anywhere else. "I need you to tell me where you were last night."

Shiiiit. Someone was trying to get him in trouble with the fuzz. Lucky for him, he had an alibi. "I was here all night," he said. "You can ask Chrissy Cunningham. She was here with me 'til about midnight."

Hopper sighed. "That's what I'm here about. Miss Cunningham was found dead in her room this morning of a suspected drug overdose. For obvious reasons, you're the first person we decided to ask."

The words resounded in Eddie's head - like in the old cartoons when someone put a pot over a character's head and smacked it with a hammer. Dead. Dead. Dead. His knees buckled, and he grabbed tight onto the doorway to keep from falling to the floor.

"No, she... no," he said, his voice sounding a thousand miles away in his own ears. "No, she was... she was getting better. Last night, she was happy. Happier than I've seen her in months."

Hopper nodded grimly. "That can happen. When... when someone makes the decision to end their own... well. Sometimes their mood improves. In the end."

Eddie thought back - back to the weekly visits they'd had every Friday night since spring break. Chrissy would sneak into his trailer after her parents went to bed. Unable to deny her anything, Eddie gave her everything he could: a shoulder to cry on, food to eat when she could keep it down, a closed bathroom door and loud music to drown out the sound of her retching when she couldn't. And every week, she'd buy a dose of ketamine from him and bring it home.

"To get me through a weekend in that house," she always said.

Last night, she'd been downright chipper. He'd figured it was because they were only a few weeks away from graduating. A few weeks, and she could get out from under her mother's thumb forever. When she'd asked for her usual bump of ket to take home, he thought nothing of it.

Had she been saving it up all this time? Was this her ploy? Worm her way into the heart of Hawkins High's drug dealer, buy ketamine under cost, stock up, and end it all?

Anger and despair welled up inside of him, black and choking.

Hopper cleared his throat, yanking him back to the present. "You're not suspected of anything," he said. "Yet. But I've gotta know, Eddie: did you sell her anything?"

"W... weed," he mumbled, having just enough brainpower to manage the feeble lie. Nobody would believe him if he said that perfect Chrissy Cunningham came to his place for the joy of his company. Even he knew it wasn't true. If he admitted to selling her weed, they'd be less likely to nail him for anything harder. "She's... she was... a cute girl. Figured if I smoked her up for long enough, maybe I'd get something out of it."

The lie sat bitter on his tongue. He'd sold her drugs at a loss for two months now, and never dreamed of asking for a damn thing in return. Just spending time with her, helping her in the small way he could, had been enough.

And it turned out, all this time he'd been making things worse.

"Alright. Well, depending on what the coroner says, we might need you to come by the station to ask a few questions," Hopper said. "I'd appreciate it if you cooperated with our investigation."

Eddie nodded numbly. "Right. Sure. Yep."

When Hopper left, Eddie leapt into action. All he wanted to do was curl up into a ball, lick his wounds, and cry his heart out for the girl he'd been unable to save. The girl he'd killed without even knowing it.

But the cops would be coming soon, and that meant he had to ditch any drugs and other paraphernalia he had in the trailer. First went the weed and rolling papers. The lighters he kept - he smoked cigarettes, after all - but everything else went down the toilet.

Once that was gone, he snatched up the small metal container where he kept his ketamine. Cracking it open, he was surprised to see a folded piece of notebook paper fall out. On one side, he saw his name written in a feminine, cursive hand.

Reaching out with shaking hands, he smoothed the note out and read.

Dear Eddie,

If you're reading this, then I've done what I set out to do. And if that's true, then you're probably really mad at me. You probably think I used you. And... I guess I did. I'm sorry.

I need you to know that it wasn't just about the drugs. I mean, it was at first, but... you helped me with so much more than that. You made me laugh. You made me smile. You made me forget, for a few hours every week, that my life wasn't my own.

Please believe me when I say that none of this was your fault. If I didn't go to you, I would've gone to someone else. Someone who wouldn't have shown half the kindness you did. Someone I wouldn't have grown to care about so deeply these past few months. So I'm begging you: please don't blame yourself for this. You made my last months the happiest of my life.

I wish things could be different. But the closer graduation came, the more I realized that I'll never get free from my mother. And I can't live like that anymore.

I'm sorry, Eddie. I'm not strong like you are.

Goodbye.

Love,

Chrissy

P.S. Don't worry about the cops. I've taken steps to make sure they don't suspect you.

P.P.S. Don't let this get in the way of graduating. You're so close. I want you to get your diploma, get out of this town, and never look back. For both of us. Maybe that's selfish of me to say. Sorry again.

Eddie read over the note three times, still hardly able to believe it. Chrissy was gone. She was gone. And she wasn't coming back.

Dumping the ketamine into the toilet, Eddie curled into a ball and screamed. His sobs drowned out the sound of the water swirling in the toilet bowl, sending the baggy of white powder down the U-bend.

#hellcheer #spotify wrapped ficlet game #this one's probably gonna upset people #whoops

[midiaryofus]

It's been two weeks since we've talked. Technically tomorrow will be two weeks, since today is the 13th of November.

There's been so many things I've wanted to tell you. So I thought I'd tell you here. Though I don't know if you'll ever read this. Or if you even care.

You know how I thought for a long time that my actions couldn't hurt anyone? I feel the same way about my absence. I feel like nobody has ever really cared about losing me. Not even old friends. People who I was best friends with for years, have easily cut me out of their life and never looked back.

I don't know if you'll ever talk to me again. I don't think you want me back in your life. I've just been waiting, and suffering. I could just end my suffering and text you- and end up rejected or idk what will happen. But then I'll never know. Every time I've had these kinds of breakups with someone, where we say it's over and just stop talking, which most of the time just happens during a fight, which then you don't think it's really over and you're just taking time apart to cool down but then the other person doesn't text you and you start panicking like, what if it's really over? What if they really want me out of their life?

I've always been the one to break first and text first. And then usually things go back to normal. But then I'm always wondering what would have happened if I break first? Would you have texted me? Or would we never talk again and you'd move on and forget me?

I wonder all the time what you're doing and how you're feeling. Most of the time during these, I tell myself things will be fine and things will go back to normal. I'm scared they won't. Im scared you already met someone or just hooked up with someone to try to forget me, erase me from your mind, move on. I was walking around the mall with my sister's today, thinking about that, and wanting to break down crying. This is hurting me so much. I feel like you're just going about your life like normal. While I'm standing in line behind someone who looks like you, and wanting to cry because it hurts so much.

This is why I didn't want to give you my heart. This is why I didn't want to go all in and let myself fall as deeply as I can for you. This is why I held back. Because you can hurt me more than Evan did back in October of 2015. And my biggest fear for so long was reliving that. I don't know if it's a coincidence or on purpose, that we keep having this "we're over for good" thing every October. When I'm most vulnerable and scared. Scared of reliving that nightmare. 6 months of pain. Do you know why it was 6 months? Why it wasn't longer? Why 6 months?

Because I met you

I wonder if you ever hear Taylor playing on the radio and think about me. My life has been like a line from her song Anti Hero "I wake up screaming from dreaming, someday I'll watch as you're leaving, and life will lose all it's meaning"

I wake up randomly at night, remembering the pain, trying to go back to sleep but I can't and I can't turn off my mind and the fears of everything. The fears that you left me for good and you met someone and you'll never talk to me again. And I start screaming. I'm so extemely in pain and I don't know how to turn it off

When I got home not that long ago, I ran to check my phone, and saw nothing from you. I sat down on the couch and started crying. Just like I always do after I check my phone and there's always nothing

I'm starting to feel like you're not coming back. Like you're happier without me. I can't force myself back into your life if you're happier without me. Even though this is killing me.

I used to feel better after crying, every time I cry. But it doesn't matter how much I cry. The pain doesn't go away.

Remember when I told you, my love is too big for you my love?

Remember all the times I kept annoying you so much talking about my exs and how they hurt me?

Remember all the times I told you I was scared of getting hurt again?

This. This is why

I have no idea how I'm walking around like a normal person. That's what people see on the outside. They don't see inside. They don't see my heart bleeding. Call me overdramatic, but I'm not. I'm extemely hurting. And nothing takes the pain away. I lost my favorite person. I lost my best friend. I lost the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I don't care that you weren't perfect. I just wanted to be with you. Even if you hurt me so much and yell at me and make me feel like you don't care about me and I don't mean much to you

I was never going to leave you. And I didn't. Sometimes I wonder if you think that. The only thing I did was open the door and tell you that it's your choice what you do. All I want is for you to be happy. And the more days that go by without any texts from you, the more I think you chose to leave

I only see you in my dreams. I wake up in pain remembering that you aren't talking to me. But even in my dreams, you don't want me back

[rafescoke]

New Girl ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Just as Rafe thought his life couldn’t get any worse, a new girl moved into town. 

Warnings: Straight smut! Mentions of trauma, extreme love-hate relationship, fluff

A/N: thank you so much for 600+ followers wtf ily <33

p.s; you know the drill. . . send requests!

One thing that Rafe was sure of; he was no tour guide, or anything of the sort.

Sure, he got himself into trouble; vandalising the principal’s office and destroying school’s properties, but that was it. He didn’t try to include the part where he goes to parties to get high and wake up the next evening with a painful headache, that was more to his personal life and he believed no one in the education system could have the advantage to be mad at him for it. 

“I simply just won’t do it,” Rafe shrugged, sighing against the chair. “Look, why don’t you ask Topper to help this new kid? He’s good in class.” 

“You answered yourself, Mr. Cameron,” the counsellor sighed, placing a file on top of the table lightly. “He’s good at school work, and you’re not. That’s why we’re going with you.” 

So that was the core reason as to why Rafe was waiting impatiently for the arrival of the new student, whom he didn’t even care about to know the gender. All he wanted was to sit at the back of the school and light some joints. 

“Mr. Cameron, this is Ms. (Y/L/N).” 

Rafe took a look at her. He bit the insides of his cheeks, thinking how she didn’t even make an effort to dress properly for her first day in a new schoolz 

An oversized tee and denim shorts. Really? 

“Hi,” she smiled, extending her hands. “I’m (Y/N).” 

“Rafe,” was all he said, before handing her her timetable for the semester. 

She scanned the paper, nodding slightly and pointed at a word. When she realised how Rafe wasn’t listening, she cleared her throat. 

“What?”

“I got Biology with Mr Garcia. Where’s Room 3?” 

Rafe scooted closer next to her, and the smell of strawberry cheesecake wafted into his nostrils. He took a step back, seething. 

Who would even wear a cakey perfume? 

“Uh, that’s like, at the end of the hall?” He answered, but it was more like a question. He looked at the direction he was noting, and nodded again. “Definitely the one at the end of the hall.” 

“You really don’t care, do you?” She asked, crossing her arms. “Where’s my locker?” 

Rafe took another look at her timetable, searching for her locker number. 

372. 

He turned to look at his own locker, finding the number, and letting out an ‘oh’. “Yours just 4 lockers away from mine.” 

“Thanks.” She muttered, and Rafe sighed before fixing the left side of his bag strap dangling from his left shoulder. “Is that it? Can I go?” 

“Not so fast, Rafe,” the counsellor sighed, stopping him by his chest. “You’re supposed to stay with her for the week. Help her get around. And you’re supposed to show her around the school compound now.” 

Rafe looked up to the counsellor with a pained expression and then back to (Y/N), his chest heavy. “Fine. Let’s go. What do you call yourself again?” 

Right before lunch, Rafe stayed over in his class for a few minutes before going out to the hall. He didn’t want to see the new girl, and he didn’t feel like being her assistant anymore. 

But the world wasn’t that fair. 

(Y/N) grinned, walking towards him. “Can you show me the cafeteria?”

“How do you even know my class?” He muttered, keeping a distance between them. The last thing he ever wanted was to let the news of him being with the new girls circulating around the school, or worse, the whole island. 

“My class is directly in front of yours. We parted just now.” 

Of course she would remember that. 

. . . 

A week went by quickly, and before Rafe would know it, he didn’t see (Y/N) anymore, and he was content with it. 

Until her family decided to become neighbours with his. 

“What do you mean the (Y/L/N) bought the house next to us?” He groaned, watching as Rose and Ward prepared to greet themselves to the new family.

The last thing he wanted was to show her around the fucking island like he was some kind of a hotel worker. 

She was in a yellow sundress, and Rafe couldn’t help but notice the way her (H/C) glowed under the sunlight. She looked similar to her mother, both bringing pastries as a way to introduce themselves. 

“Hi, we just moved next door,” Mrs (Y/L/N) said, showing the Camerons her pearly white teeth. Rafe wondered if she ever got them done, because it’s not possible for a human to have such white assets. 

“Hi, welcome to Obx,” Ward gushed, accepting the pastries happily. “Rafe, take the other cake.” 

(Y/N) looked up at the sound of his name, and to Rafe’s amusement, began gritting her teeth. He took the cake with a smirk, happy that he got her all worked up. 

He would definitely have the best time of his life taunting the shit out of this girl. 

. . .

“Hey, wanna ride a boat?” 

“Topper, leave her alone,” Rafe sighed, fixing his cap so it was facing backwards. “She’s not interested.” 

(Y/N) perked up at this invitation, never actually riding a boat alone if it wasn’t during a holiday since she was originally from the city. She walked towards her neighbour’s deck, her skin illuminating the golden sunrays. 

“Sure.” 

Rafe mentally groaned, having to deal with the girl now, but he wasn’t sure if he was angry or jealous. It wasn’t him to be jealous easily, but after a week of becoming her tour guide, he guessed he deserves some kind of a credit from her. Topper didn’t do anything, but she was gladly accepting his invitation. 

Their usual stroll along the stream of the island was not like usual, since the air was now filled with the annoying chatter between (Y/N) and Topper. Rafe could never relate with them, only wanting to relax his mind and sleep it off. 

“So you’re a city girl? That’s great!” 

“Sure Tops,” Rafe wondered, smiling delightly. Anything to get into a girl’s pants. . . 

“You know what, (Y/N)?” He called from the place he was resting, and he waited a few seconds before continuing his speech. “If you’re looking for a boyfriend, Topper’s not the guy. He hasn’t moved on from his ex-girlfriend.” 

Sure, he would get a lot of shit from Topper for saying that, but he was done with the pointless flirting between them. 

“What about you?” 

Rafe opened his eyes, watching her from behind his sunglasses. He shifted his position, “What about me?” 

“Have you moved on from your ex-girlfriend?” 

Has he moved on from Kie? He wasn’t entirely sure. Their relationship was brief, but she was all Rafe had. When she decided to go all full-pogue, he knew there was nothing left of them. 

“I don’t date.” 

“I can see why,” she said, and Rafe swore he heard some kind of mirth behind her tone. 

“Have you?” 

“Moved on from an ex?” 

Rafe nodded, opening his eyes slightly. 

“I guess.” 

“Good for him.” 

“Excuse me?” She gasped, pushing him lightly. “You’re an asshole.” 

She leaned closer onto him, and for a second Rafe thought about letting her in his bubble, but he quickly shoved her away. “Watch it.” 

“I’m just trying to tell you about that fucking fly on your face.” 

“Yeah? Liar.” 

(Y/N) huffed, stomping back to Topper, and Rafe laughed silently. 

1-0.

. . .

Fuck. 

If he would’ve known about the police raid in Topper’s party, he wouldn’t have come to his house at all. But here he was; all pushed up against the metal chair of the police station, his hair messy and his eyes bloodshot. 

“We’re taking a urine test, son,” Shoupe said, sighing. “There’s always something wrong with you.”

Rafe thought about (Y/N) suddenly, and how she was probably back home and watching some kind of a rom-com. That’s totally her; all cuddled up with a pink teddy bear probably named ‘Bear-bear’, constantly wiping the tears off her face over the sad breakup scene of a movie. 

Rafe was forced to strip out of his shirt and jeans before entering the small cubicle, and having to go through this same procedure for quite a few times now, he didn’t mind giving a show to the workers. 

He quickly zipped his jeans bag, handing a female worker a cup filled to the end with his urine. He yawned, already knowing the results, so there was no use being nervous about it. 

He was picked up by an angry Ward an hour later. He groaned, getting in the car to prepare himself for the same lecture about his future and how he shouldn’t jeopardise it, but he was shocked when Ward didn’t utter a word at all. 

It was very uncomfortable, but he guessed he was just tired. 

“Good morning.” 

Rafe rubbed his eyes against the bright sunlight, feeling the pain from his head slowly soaring throughout his body. He squinted his eyes at the figure in front of him again, trying to blink the blurriness away. 

“What the fuck?” 

“Your mom told me to call for you,” (Y/N) said, looking away from him. Rafe looked down to his body, seeing his shirtless self, and laughed.

Of fucking course she would be uncomfortable with him being shirtless. 

“She’s not my mom,” he grunted, removing the covers off of him and checking his phone for the time. 

12.43p.m. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, and his eyes turned to her again. “What are you doing here again? Leave.” 

“Waiting for you.” 

“I’ll be downstairs in a few seconds,” he muttered. He didn’t need her to be some kind of maid for him. 

(Y/N) muttered some curse word, hoping that riled him up, but she would be stupid if she thought a random curse word would make him Rafe Cameron angry.

It would take a lot more to raise an expression from Rafe Cameron, and a curse word definitely wouldn’t. 

. . . 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” 

His boat was not working, but he had just filled her up the night before. This was the newest model too, and he couldn’t afford asking Ward to fix his boat again. Not when he was caught with being on drugs from his urine test last week, and the only reason he got out of the trouble was because of Ward again. 

“Is it not working, Rafey?” 

Rafe looked up to the sound. (Y/N) was watching him with a sly grin, shielding her eyes with her hands from the sun like she was some goddamn queen that would melt from the heat. 

“What did you do to my boat?” He groaned, trying to turn the ignition again. 

“What did I do? Come on, why do you always think so bad of me? That’s kinda ru—”

Before she could continue her taunt, Rafe climbed the deck, inching closer towards her and smeling that goddamn cake smell again. 

Hell, he’ll buy her a new perfume to stop breathing in that fucking smell. 

“That’s kinda what?” He whispered. He was so close to her now, and he could hear her breath hitching. He smirked, his heart soaring. 

“You’re kinda dumb for a kook, Rafe,” she sighed. She dangled a familiar key in front of him, and when Rafe took a closer look, he noticed it was the key to his boat. 

She threw the key into the water and Rafe watched it plopped, moving straight towards the deep end. His eyes flared at her again, his chest heaving. 

“Hope you have a spare key.” 

1-1. 

. . .

That should be good, he guessed, for being in a tie with (Y/N). But he doesn’t like someone being in the same league as him, so it must be 2-1. 

And the 2 from him. 

But that was for another day, because Kiara Carrera was in front of him. He fixed his cap so it was facing backwards again, and then putting his hands into his pockets for good measure. 

“Hey,” he greeted her. She smiled at him grimly before looking back at the menu, clearly uninterested. “How’re you?” 

“I’m. . . great,” she breathed. “Why?” 

“Just asking,” he shrugged, “Do you wanna go out for some drinks sometimes? Like the old times?” 

Rafe curled his toes, waiting nervously. 

“Um, I have to check with my parents first,” she replied. “But, Rafe, you know, it’s been. . . a year.” 

“Of course,” he laughed, trying to hide the sudden emotion inside him. “I meant hanging out as a friend.” 

“Of course!” She suddenly exclaimed, “If you would bring (Y/N) with us.” 

“Oh, I don’t-”

“You don’t?” 

“I- fine. I’ll bring her with me. Is tomorrow okay?” He sighed, already foreseeing the future. 

And it’s full of shit. 

“Tomorrow.” 

. . .

“Wow, I am not going to third wheel you and someone, Rafe,” (Y/N) laughed, resting her back against her chair. 

“Please,” Rafe begged, sighing. He didn’t know how much begging he could do anymore, not when he had so many things to do. He took a deep breath again, “I’ll do anything for you back.” 

“Including hooking me up with JJ?” 

“Yes- no. No. What the fuck? Where did you even know this guy?” He expressed, his eyebrows furrowing. He was not going to let her a pull a Kie, though they weren’t dating. 

“He helps mower the lawn.” 

Of course. JJ Maybank would never pass the chance to get some money while checking out girls. 

“I’m not helping you to get together with JJ,” he sighed. “Can we go for a better option? Like Landon? He’s rich.” 

“I’m richer,” she yawned. “Okay. Fine. Topper.” 

“No,” he shook his head. “Not going to happen.” 

If she ever thought about him allowing her to date his best friend, she has to be a lot smarter than that. 

He didn’t know why he wouldn’t allow it. Maybe he was scared of Topper hurting her. 

Or maybe he just couldn’t imagine her with someone else.

“Then we have no deal,” she replied simply, gazing at her newly painted nails. She gazed at Rafe who seemed to be thinking hard from the top of her sunglasses. 

He groaned. “Fine. I’ll help you with Topper. But I’m warning you; he. Has. Not. Moved. On.” 

“Oh, he will.”

. . .

Kie was all up on Rafe.

He didn’t know what had gotten into her, because she was never this. . . strong-willed. 

Kie had her hands placed against Rafe’s chest, kissing him tenderly and sometimes running her fingers through his hair. 

Rafe sucked in a breath, watching as she part. Her mouth formed into a grin, and Rafe couldn’t help but grin back. 

“Wanna do it?” 

Did he? Of course he wanted to “do it”. He had been wanting to do so since forever. He would be crazy to say no to that invitation, and he was definitely sane. 

He looked at (Y/N), who was awkwardly perched up on the sofa, tucking her legs under her and watching some kind of a movie on her phone. Her eyes looked up to Rafe, and she quickly looked away. 

“In one of the rooms?” 

Kie seemed to look around the boat for a while, like he was looking for someone, but there were only two of them. And (Y/N). 

“Fine,” she huffed, and pulled him towards one of the rooms by his wrist. 

Kie pushed him onto the bed, and Rafe wondered how she got this side of her. Throughout their 6 months of dating, she never showed him this, so this was a bit of a shock to him. 

“Hey, hey,” Rafe gripped her wrists, holding her still. “We don’t have to rush.” 

“I want to,” she said, and leaned closer. “I thought you wanted this?” 

They began making out, his hand slipping down her back to grab her ass, only to be met with her vibrating phone in her back pocket. 

“I’ll get it,” he mumbled against the kiss, and pulled her phone out.

A picture of JJ Maybank’s smiling face right next to Kie greeted him, and his name was perched on top of the screen, signalling his call. 

Of course. She never wanted to fuck him. It was always to make someone jealous. That explained the gritted teeth Kie would make when he mentioned JJ earlier. 

He sighed, pushing her away so she ended up by his side. “I gotta go.” 

“Huh?” Kie sat up straight, looking from Rafe to her phone. She saw the caller, cleared her throat, and held up a finger to tell him to wait. 

He should’ve known. 

. . . 

Rafe never liked the annual Obx’s drive-in movie theatre, because he really didn’t get the hype of watching a mainstream movie that he had watched with Wheezie a lot of times before in his car. 

This year, it was way worse; they decided to have some kind of a horror themed drive-in movie theatre, and the best part of all; (Y/N) was going with Topper. 

Rafe groaned for the thousandth time at the rapping of a clown against his car window. He gave the clown his middle finger, telling him ‘watch it, you’re scratching my car’, and moving his attention back to the screen. 

Annabelle had disappeared from the room the two nurses had placed her in, and the volume quietened before booming again when the doll had appeared in the living room, perching on top of the sofa. 

He rolled his eyes, and took a look at (Y/N) and his best friend laying in the back part of his jeep from the rearview window. 

They were cuddling. 

“Fuck off,” he grunted, throwing his hands into the air. A human-sized Annabelle pulled on the shotgun’s door now, and Rafe gave the actor another middle finger before yelling a ‘fuck you’.

“This is ridiculous,” he said to no one in particular. He stepped out of the vehicle, knowing damn well he would be the target of the ghosts now, but he couldn’t care less. All he wanted was to step away from all of this and maybe refill his soda. 

He made his way to the back of the lot, getting his money out beforehand. Some type of a wannabe Michael Myers came up, to which he quickly put a hand up to stop him. 

“Don’t. I’m not in the mood.”

Michael Myers seemed to get him, because he left to scare someone else. 

“Refill,” he sighed, giving the worker his cup. “Coke.” 

“You mean like literal coke?” 

Rafe looked behind him, surprised to see a red-faced (Y/N) holding a popcorn bucket. He licked his teeth. “Why? Have you tried it before?” 

(Y/N) went up beside him, muttering about putting more caramel in her popcorn to the worker before looking at him. “You seem mad.” 

“I’m not.” 

“You are.” 

“That’s because you’re all up in my business,” he scoffed. He turned to look at his coke, but the worker was still filling the cup up. 

Good. Did the machine break or something? 

“Where’s the girlfriend?” She asked. She was clearly amused by his sudden tightness, but he quickly softened, as to not rile her up. 

“Where’s the fuckbud- I mean boyfriend? Sorry. It just slipped.” 

(Y/N) nodded, her mouth forming into a grin. “If you’re jealous, you can just say that.” 

“Wait, wait, of what, exactly?” 

She shrugged. 

“Yeah, exactly. No. For all I care, you guys can get married and move to fucking Antartica and have mini (Y/N)s and Christophers running around.” 

The worker placed the newly refilled coke and caramelised popcorn on the counter, and Rafe wondered why she would receive her food at the same time as his when had come here first.

He rolled his eyes, grabbing the drink and walking back towards the car. 

(Y/N) jogged to catch up with him, her popcorn bouncing against her chest. “You’re rude, do you know that?” 

“Jesus Christ, we’re still on this?” He mumbled. He was still walking, but he wanted her to catch up so he slowed down. He guessed it would be the perfect ending to his night to taunt her until she’s all worked up. 

“I just can’t think of a reason why you’re acting so fucking rude to me.” 

“Yeah? Think again.” Rafe sipped on his coke, feeling the carbonated drink sloshing down his throat. He felt content, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the coke or from the girl beside him. 

“This is—”

A nurse with a bloody front suddenly appeared before them, using some kind of a spray to maximise the size of the fire from a lighter. (Y/N) screamed, turning away from the heat, and Rafe quickly caught her before she could end up on the floor. 

“Fuck, fucking move,” he yelled to the nurse, who seemed to be satisfied with her work. Rafe turned to (Y/N), trying to check on her state. 

“Yo, yo, you good? Why are you shaking?” 

She was trembling really hard against him. She had her arms around Rafe’s neck, her popcorn splattered on the ground. She jolted when a scream came from the speaker. 

“Come on, let’s get you to the car,” he mumbled, helping her walk. She kept her face hidden in the crook of his neck, and Rafe had to try his best to balance both of the girl and the Coke in his hands back to the vehicle.

Topper was no longer in the back seat, perhaps looking for Sarah (Rafe wasn’t a bit surprised at this). He was glad his best friend wasn’t there, because the last thinf he needed was two people freaking out on him. 

“Okay, chill, I got you,” Rafe grunted, placing the Coke in the cup holder before seating the girl beside the driver’s seat. He sighed before climbing into the driver’s seat and locked the door in case some kind of a crazy maniac tried to freak her out again. 

“What’s wrong?” 

She didn’t answer, not that Rafe expected her to. She looked like she was reminded by some kind of memory, but Rafe didn’t want to dwell so much on it. 

If he could, he would reverse his car out of this lot back to their homes, but he was one of the first cars to arrive at the drive-in theatre, so it was impossible to get out. 

He sighed, placing his hands against his lap. “You can tell me, you know.” 

She finally looked up to him, and Rafe’s breath hitched from the sight of her red eyes. He softened. 

Whatever it was with that fire, it had triggered some kind of a memory in her. 

He placed a hand against her lap, but not moving so; just a splat of his hand against her soft skin. He had meant for that as comfort, but he realised how creepy the situation was. He pulled away, clearing his throat. 

So they stayed until the end of the movie, just the two of them, and Rafe was sure she wasn’t even watching the remaining parts of the movie. He pretended to watch, but he was really just staring at her the whole time. 

Will she ever let her hair down like this again? Because he liked it. 

When the movie ended and the cars were starting to move, Rafe slowly reversed the car so as to not shake her awake. But she was a light sleeper, and she woke up as soon as he hit the brakes. 

She rubbed her eyes, “Where are we going?” 

“Home,” he answered. “You’re okay?” 

She didn’t answer, and Rafe knew she wasn’t.

. . .

Two weeks after the incident, they never spoke of it again. 

Rafe tried to get an answer out, but to no avail. He didn’t get why he was trying his best to help her, because he, too, needed help. 

“Nah. I won’t invite her. If you want (Y/N) to come, then you’ll have to invite her yourself.” 

Wheezie’s shoulders slumped, “But you’re close to her!”

“I’m not, and she hates my guts,” Rafe replied honestly. Because that was the truth, right? She didn’t even want to tell him about why she was so scared of fire. 

“Invite me to what?” 

“(Y/N)!” Wheezie ran to hug her, to which (Y/N) laughed before patting her on the crown of her head. “Tell her, Rafe!” 

Is she fucking serious? 

“Tell me what?” (Y/N) looked up to Rafe strangely. 

“Wheezie wants to have a movie night, and she wants you to watch with us.” Rafe sighed, hating how he couldn’t just ignore Wheezie. She was definitely Rafe’s favourite, being so close to her brother ever since she was born. 

“Oh, is that true?” She smiled, looking at Wheezie. “Should I come and wear my best pajamas?” 

“You’re not sleeping over, your house is literally 5 minutes away. 2 if you run.” Rafe rolled his eyes. He went up to the counter to pick up a sandwich before biting into it, tasting the creamy eggs and ham. He licked his lips. 

“She can sleep with Sarah, right, (Y/N)?” 

“If she wants me too. . .” 

Rafe rolled his eyes again, “Sarah won’t be with us for tonight’s movie night. She’s starting to hang out with the pogues.” 

“Why are you so against the pogues?” (Y/N) asked, when Wheezie left to write a reminder of tonight’s event in her diary. 

“Why can’t you just shut your mouth?” He sighed. “It’s all bla bla bla bla. Can’t you see you’ll be happier without having to open your mouth every few seconds?” 

(Y/N) bit her lips, and for a second, Rafe had to look away from the look she was giving him. 

Shit. Why was he even looking away? 

She turned to go away, but was halted by Rafe’s fingers around her wrist. She groaned, turning her attention back to him. “What?” 

“You still haven’t told me about the night of the drive-in theatre.” 

“Good,” was all she said, before she went back by the sliding door to her home. 

. . .

“Rafe would be mad if he saw me watching this.” 

“It’s rom-com! And it’s totally PG-13. Trust me on this, okay? Anne Hathaway, yeah, that girl, yes, she’s going to get prettier throughout the movie.” (Y/N) smiled, popping popcorn into her mouth. 

Wheezie sighed, placing her head against (Y/N)’s shoulders and yawned. “Like what? Princess Diaries?” 

“Yes, but this is The Devil Wears Prada. You’ll love it!” 

A beam of light filled the mini movie theatre of The Camerons, signalling the late arrival of Rafe Cameron. He brought two chocolate bars, a Coke (again) and some chicken nuggets. 

“Move,” he said, motioning to Wheezie. 

“There are more seats around here!” Wheezie hissed, crossing her arms. “I’m not leaving (Y/N).” 

“You’re not leaving her, silly, you’re just scooting more to the right.” 

“What’s in it for me?” She raised a brow. 

“Nuggets?” 

She scooted to the side, giving more space for Rafe to place himself beside an annoyed (Y/N). 

Out of all 7 medium-sized sofas in the theatre, he decided to pick the one the two girls were sitting on. 

Rafe handed Wheezie the plate full of chicken nuggets, looking at (Y/N) before watching the screen. He groaned, “What’s this? Trash?” 

“A masterpiece, so shut up,” (Y/N) replied. Rafe huffed, amused, and unwrapped the chocolate bar. 

“Want some?” 

“No.” 

“Come on,” he cooed, placing the chocolate before her eyes. She grunted, pushing his hands away. 

Rafe took that as his final warning. He didn’t want to annoy her even more, knowing that she will probably not talk to him anymore. He decided to wait until half an hour later, just to taunt her again. 

“I’m going to get more popcorn,” Wheezie suddenly said after an hour into the movie. She excused herself to the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone. 

(Y/N) sighed. Great, just like how she wanted. 

“What do you want from me?” Anne Hathaway’s voice blared from the speaker, and Rafe looked at (Y/N). 

“What do you want from me?” He asked, repeating the dialogue. (Y/N) watched him from the corners of her eyes, not getting any delight from this. 

“For you to shut up.” 

“Really? That’s boring,” he sighed. “Do you want to know what I want from you?” 

“Sure.” 

“I’m thinking of a few things. Maybe you, on my lap.” 

(Y/N)’s breath hitched, but she tried her best not to look disturb. She shifted in her seating position. 

Rafe leaned closer, feeling her heat. “Your turn.” 

You know what? Fuck it.

(Y/N) turned to look at him fully in his face, leaning even closer that a part of her was practically on top of him. “Do you know what I think of you, Rafe?” 

His eyes dropped to her lips, and he swore his heartbeat quit beating. 

“I think about you, Rafe,” she whispered. “All pressed up against me in my bed, whim-”

“More popcorn!” 

(Y/N) returned to her previous position, bewildered. She fixed her hair, and her eyes were back to the screen. 

If Wheezie were to hang out with a pogue right now, Rafe wouldn’t give a fuck. 

“Well, the ending’s shitty,” Rafe exclaimed, clapping his hands. He watched as the end credits rolled, and took a look at Wheezie. 

He nudged her, sighing. “Wake up, Wheeze. Go to your room.” 

She groaned, searching for her fallen glasses. Rafe helped her to put them on, and gave her another poke. 

“I want to watch the movie.”

“The movie’s finished. It’s time to sleep. Go.” 

Wheezie groaned, muttering how it’s not fair that her brother could stay up with (Y/N) to watch more movies, but she guessed she was too tired for another round of movie anyways. 

“What’s the next pick?” 

“Horror.” 

“Nah.” 

“Why?”

“‘Cause you’re going to freak out on me again.” 

“I won’t,” she assured him. “Let’s go with Hereditary.” 

Rafe’s fingers and (Y/N)’s were almost touching. He was still bothered by her comment before Wheezie came barging in, and he was still desperate to hear her reply. 

“(Y/N)?”

“Hm?” 

“What were you trying to say?”

(Y/N) stopped watching, and looked at him. “What?” 

“About you thinking of me.” 

She blushed. “Nah.” 

“Come on,” he nudged. When she didn’t move, he tried placing his hand against her thigh. 

(Y/N) stood up suddenly, and for a second, Rafe thought he had fucked up. He watched as she went to the door, locked it, and went back to their place. 

“You locked the door.” 

“Yeah.” 

Rafe licked his lips, smirking slightly. “Ah, I see the game you’re playing.” 

“What game?” She raised a brow, only turning to the screen when a scream blared from the speaker.

“Hey, look at me.” Rafe tugged on her chin, forcing her to look at him, and his eyes actually looked into hers. He noticed the (E/C) colour of her eyes now, and he swore he had never looked at something more appealing. “Tell me.” 

She stayed quiet, not moving a muscle. 

Rafe sighed, getting impatient. He leaned closer now, this time his lips merely an inch away from her cheeks. He could feel the heat radiating from her. 

“Tell me, baby.” 

“You getting all close to me isn’t helping, Cameron,” she sighed, laying her head against the sofa. 

“Still playing hard to get?” 

“I’m not playing anything.” 

Rafe slowly placed a kiss against her temple before trailing down to her cheeks. She sucked in a breath, and Rafe smiled. 

“Still playing?” 

She nodded. 

Rafe’s lips touched hers by a bit, and she let out a moan she had been trying her very best to contain. Rafe chuckled, pulling away. 

“Still playing?”

“Shut up.” 

“That’s a yes? Or a no?”

“That’s a fuck you.” 

“Oh,” Rafe smiled. “Thought you never asked.” 

His kiss was gentle. So soft, and (Y/N) had never felt something like that before. The kiss deepened when she let out a soft moan, riling Rafe even more. 

He pulled her up onto his chest, letting her hands rest against his chest before pulling her away. Her lips were red, and there was a string of their saliva hanging from both of their lips. 

“What do you want, (Y/N)?” 

“You.” 

“Huh?” 

“You.” 

He smiled, tugging on her shirt. “Off.” 

She wasted no time to remove her shirt, exposing her new black bra she ordered online a few days before. Rafe sat back, his eyes dark. 

“Jesus Christ.” 

He kissed her neck, trailing down to her collar bones before stopping directly on her chest. His fingers fiddled with the bra clip, being so used with this already, and removed the piece of clothing with ease. 

(Y/N) instinctively covered her chest, her chest heaving. 

Rafe looked up to her, his eyes softening. “What’s wrong?” 

“Am not comfortable.” 

“Oh, that’s alright, we don’t have to do—”

“No, Rafe, I want this. I just don’t think I’m perfect enough for you.” 

Rafe let out a breath, placing a soft kiss against her stomach. She closed her eyes, throwing her head back. He guided her hands away, exposing her perky breast to the entire theatre to see. 

Rafe was glad he was the only guy present. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” 

“Shut up.” 

He looked up into her eyes, wetting his lips. “I’ll do anything to fuck you right now.” 

(Y/N) grinded against him, causing a groan to escape from his throat. He held her waist in place, not wanting to trigger his release. 

“Do it,” she whispered. 

The movie became a background noise as he fumbled with her shorts, grunting when he couldn’t figure out the knot. 

He positioned himself before her, and looked up into her eyes again. Her chest was heaving, and she looked nervous. 

“You’re okay?”

“I’m a virgin.” 

Oh fuck. 

Why would she even say that? He couldn’t even contain himself anymore. 

He pushed himself into her, letting her get used to the feeling. He waited for her nod, signaling that she was okay and hadn’t changed her mind, and thrusted into her again. 

His hands stayed around her waist to guide her, watching as her mouth slightly parted as he deepened inside her. She bit her lips, her nails clawing onto his shoulders. 

“Oh my god.” 

“Fuck,” he groaned, feeling his own forehead clammy. He didn’t notice her hands that had left his shoulder. She cupped his face, placing wet kisses against his cheeks. 

“You’re so good for me, baby,” he whimpered, allowing her hands to guide his. She placed them around her breast as she rode him, and Rafe had never felt better. 

If he has to taunt and annoy her more to get into this level again, he’ll do it again. Without any hesitation.

“I’m so close, baby, fuck,” he groaned. He gave her another longing kiss, looking down to where their bodies connect, and moaned loudly. 

Just before he reached his end, he pulled her away, not wanting to plant himself into her. (Y/N) tried to wrap her fingers around his penis to which Rafe jerked at for  being so sensitive. He pulled her hands away, his chest heaving. 

“Don’t,” he grunted. His load shot out of his member, wetting the sofa underneath them, and Rafe quickly slapped his shaft against her core to get her to reach her end. 

“Rafe, I-”

“Let it,” he whispered, watching as she tilted her head back, exposing her neck. “Let go, baby.” 

She trembled slightly, finally reaching her high, and collapsed on top of the heaving boy. Rafe stroked her hair, pulling her into a lying position, and planted another soft kiss against the back of her head. 

“The movie’s still on.” 

“Watch the next part, it’s amazing,” Rafe whispered, still holding her close. They were both naked, still coming down from their highs, but Rafe had never felt better. 

(Y/N) turned to look at him. “You’re still an asshole.” 

He placed a soft kiss against her lips. “Your asshole.” 

-

@okayshoto @joselyn001 @onceuponateenagetrash @dyingsleeping @iwannabeapogue @meaganjm @rafesobxs @flossy2929 @unfortunatekiwitrash @scottybitch @asimpwriter @amaya124 @tommy-tommo @thatshithurted8 @fallincindy @marvelwhor3 @rafeswh0ree @kookap @supernaturallydc-blog @blank-velvet @alaniskauany @kiiim8 @witchywrter @kaitlyn2907 @heyimflo @overcookedpastasause @tsukkiswifeey @spidey-d00d @anonymousobxfan @gotmeinloveagain @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @lexi-writes @classydragonthingknight @belongtoyou-u @badbussylol @savannah-elliott @angelreyesgirl100 @haterpenny @beehappyyy @alwaysclassyeagle @maybankslut @kayleea122 @clearbolts @lovelyxtom @christianaevans @jemimah-b99 @opierdalacz @dangerdolns @wildflowerliv @classygirlything21 @pogueslandia

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smuts #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagines #drew starkey smuts #outerbanks #outerbanks imagines #outerbanks x reader #outerbanks smut

[myriadof-fandoms]

Max hasn’t slept a full night since Starcourt.

When she’s not tossing and turning for hours to even find sleep in the first place, she wakes up from nightmares. The bags under her eyes become more prominent every day and she’s starting to wonder if they’ll ever go away again.

Being around El helps. She tries to understand. She held Max’ hand through the funeral.

Lucas just tried to comfort her with things like He was a dick anyway. You didn’t like him. He killed a bunch of people. Max broke up with him about two weeks after everything. They’re back to a talking stage now but unlike after their previous breakups Max has no intention of getting back together. She doesn’t think Lucas does either, at least not anymore. Not with how she’s changed, so often quiet now, or in contrast even moodier and quicker to lash out, and most of the time with her headphones over her ears and a cassette playing metal music she would have hated just two months ago.

Dustin and Mike are similar, though it doesn’t mean much of a difference in Mike’s behaviour towards her really. They don’t bother trying to understand, or maybe it’s just not possible for them. Will seems to, but he’s offering more quiet comfort. Sitting next to Max and not joining in when someone utters a comment about Billy. Silently being on her side. Being on Billy's too despite not knowing him.

El offers more. She tells Max about things she saw in Billy’s mind. Details Max hadn’t known, more about the anger and fear that was just under the surface all the time. She tells Max that Billy loved her, how there simply hadn’t ever been an example for him how that’s supposed to be shown. The only way Billy knew how to show love was through rough words and hands and by putting himself in between her and her friends and a nightmare come to life.

El holds her when she wakes up crying and screaming. Max doesn’t often sleep at home anymore. The house is too empty without music coming from Billy’s room. Neil somehow seems scarier now. Her mum clearly doesn’t know how to react to her step-son’s death. There’s too many things that make her home feel like she’s being pressed under water, pressure building up and trying to crush her. When she does sleep there she sleeps in Billy’s bed. The unfamiliar feeling of a room she was rarely allowed in before and a mattress smelling of cold smoke and his cologne is better than standing the quiet in her own.

She stays over so often that Hopper has stopped storming into the room when Max starts to scream in the middle of the night. She feels guilty waking both Eleven and her guardian almost every night but when she mentioned it during breakfast once Hopper just told her that he doesn’t sleep much anyway. He made a point of inviting her to stay the next night as well before dropping them off at school. Max doesn't know how to thank him. Or Eleven. So she buries it within some other thoughts.

There are things Max tries doesn’t think about at all. Billy’s eyes. The way his voice sounded when he told her that he was sorry. His blood on her hands. The way Eleven’s skin looks right where her neck meets her shoulder. How her hair curls. Her early morning smiles. All things she pushes deep down to hide them even from herself.

Max can’t address the feelings she has around Eleven. There’s that well known risk of ending at the end of Neil’s fists the same way Billy did. Maybe being moved across the country again. Worse though, Max might lose the safety of El’s arms.

The only time Max ever feels safe these days is when she’s sobbing against Eleven’s neck and feels the other soothingly stroking her hair. She’s not willing to risk that. So she pushes it down and focuses on other things. Like the growing anger under her skin. Burning brighter every day. So much rage. At her step-father, at her own feelings, at her mother, at her apathy, at Lucas, at the nightmares, at Billy. At that monster that took her brother from her. So much rage.

Max wishes she could tell Billy that she gets it now.

#can you tell my coping mechanism is making someone from st sad? #yeah idk sorry this is sad #and yeah i decided hopper is alive for this bc fuck if i acknowledge that he's technically believed to be dead rn #no beta we die like men #max mayfield #billy hargrove #eleven hopper #el hopper #jane hopper #elmax #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things headcanon #eleven/max #eleven x max #max mayfield fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfiction #mimi's writing #mimi makes things #my favourite siblings

[sluttyten]

Fresh Air

Poly Series Chapter Index

summary: the first few months of life with your boyfriends and your newborn daughter bring numerous hardships that none of you were truly prepared for

length: 27.8k

tags/warnings: handjobs, dry humping, fingering, breastfeeding kink, slight daddy kink, cum sharing, smut, polyamory, multiple partners, the usual tags, angst?, some sadness

Having a baby is no easy thing. You knew that. You also knew that being in such a large polyamorous relationship wasn’t an easy thing. Already you’d lost two boyfriends; Lucas was long gone, happy in his own little world with Chaerin, and Ten was gone too, slowly slipping away.

It took the others a few days to realize that Ten was gone from the relationship. You didn’t have the same emotional breakdown as you did when Lucas ended things, so it wasn’t until you went around kissing each of them goodnight halfway through movie night, skipping over Ten, that Taeyong sat up curiously. 

“Excuse me!” He calls as you start to climb the stairs. “What just happened?”

Ten is slouched down between Taeyong and Kun, and he scowls at Taeyong, twisting his hand in the back of his shirt and tugging him back into Ten’s side. Ten mumbles, “We broke up.” 

“What?” Taeyong looks sharply between you and Ten. “When?”

The other eyes in the room slide toward this conversation. 

Ten flicks his gaze toward you, then he switches on his mischievous flirty grin, snuggling up against Taeyong. “When I realized you’re the only one for me, hyung!” 

Taeyong shoves him away with a groan.

WinWin comes down the stairs then, looking sleepy, sporting a little spit-up stain on his shoulder. He looks past you to where Taeyong and Ten are wrestling with each other, nearly falling into Kun’s lap as he groans and tries to keep them away. WinWin’s hand slides over your shoulder, squeezing reassuringly as he asks, “Hey, what’s going on?” 

He just got off from Daddy-duty, which mostly meant giving Mei a bottle and then napping with her. Ever since learning that he was her biological father, he’d been trying to help you out even more—offering to change her, to give her baths, to feed her (even though she was mostly breastfeeding, you were supplementing a little with bottles and formula).

“Me and Ten broke up,” you tell him, plucking at the front of his shirt. “You might want to wash this. Mei spit up on you.”

“Hold on. Are we just skipping over that? What do you mean you and Ten broke up?” WinWin frowns, his lips drooping into a pout.

You look back at everyone else, and a few of them are craning their necks to be able to see you. So you sigh, and you explain the breakup. Ten nods along with you, occasionally adding his own little input.

“I told you all that first day when we learned I was pregnant, if any of you want to leave or feel like you can’t deal with helping raise a baby, I understand. None of you signed up for a baby when we started this relationship.” You glance around the room, your gaze touching Lucas who has his head ducked as he picks at some loose skin around his nail. “Only WinWin’s definitely stuck with me now.”

There’s grumbles and eye-rolling around the room. WinWin touches the small of your back, just a tender touch to reassure you that he’s here, not going anywhere.

“Like I said, I understand when any of you want to leave. I don’t want any of you to be unhappy here.” You turn away and start up toward your bedroom. “Goodnight!”

But the others can’t let it go. It was one thing when just Lucas had left the relationship, but now Ten too? That second loss felt like the start of instability in the relationship, a crack in the formerly solid foundation. You tried hard not to think of it that way, but that was hard especially when a few days later you’re in bed with Kun.

Mei is asleep on the bed between you both.

It was just you and her for a long while, you were reading a novel to pass the time, and because you knew it was important for her to hear speech and intonation (even though at only almost two weeks old, speech was still a while away for her) you were reading aloud to her.

Kun had come inside, and when you paused in your reading he’d smiled and shaken his head. “Keep going. You have a lovely voice.”

So you’d read until Mei was asleep again, until your throat was dry. Kun was alternating between looking at you, looking at Mei, or looking at the backs of his eyelids. But when you sit aside the book and turn onto your side facing him and your daughter, Kun’s eyes open so he can see you.

“How are you?” He asks softly, reaching out to brush a finger at the thin skin under your eyes. “How are you holding up?”

You clasp his hand, pulling it down to your lips so you can kiss his palm. “You mean in general, or like postpartum? Or the breakup with Ten?”

Kun swallows, his eyes searching yours. “All of the above, I guess.” He looks down to your lips as you kiss his hand again. “I mean, you haven’t left the house since you came home from the hospital. That’s got to be taking a toll. And I’ve done some reading online, I know about postpartum depression and stuff. Then on top of the chances of that, there could be a hit of regular depression because of the breakup. I’m just worried, concerned.”

“I’m fine, Kun. Really.”

And you believe that you are. You feel good. Even with the breakup. Ten’s still here; he’s just more like your best friend now than anything else when he comes into your room to make sure you’re getting something to eat, to coo at Mei, or to kidnap Miso from where he’s curled up beneath Mei’s crib.

“Can I ask you something else?” Kun turns onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. “If I still hook up with Ten, are you going to be mad? Does it count as cheating on you?”

You laugh. “No. It’s fine. You, Taeyong, Johnny, any of you can keep doing whatever you’ve been doing with Ten. I encourage it. I’m pretty sure one of you is actually the reason he broke up with me, unless you know of someone else that he’s had his eye on?”

Kun shakes his head. “No, just us.”

“I don’t mind sharing with Ten. I still love him. I want him to be happy.” You stroke a gentle finger down Mei’s arm. “I want you to be happy, so if you want to choose Ten, then I wouldn’t blame you for br—“

Kun moves so quickly to shut down what you’re saying that he jostles the bed and that wakes Mei.

“Shit.” Kun immediately starts trying to comfort her, cradling her gently in his arms, speaking to her in soft, soothing tones. And as Mei starts to settle, he looks sharply back up at you. “Don’t say something like that, about me breaking up with you.” His face twists with annoyance. “I’m not going anywhere. I love you.”

“That’s what you all say. Lucas loved me. Ten loved me. They both left.”

“I do fucking love you.” Kun tells you, his voice assertive and hushed as he looks down at Mei again. “If I had Mark’s balls I’d have proposed to you by now too. I’m sure half of us would have as well. I’m not planning on going anywhere anytime soon, my love. So stop trying to get rid of me.”

You’re not trying to get rid of any of them, but over the next few weeks it becomes clear that all of this—maintaining this relationship—is going to be a lot harder while you’re recovering from birth and while you’re trying to focus on Mei, feeding her and sleeping when you can.

Even with your boyfriends trying to help, it’s not easy.

Jaehyun, WinWin, Kun. They’re always up to help you with anything and everything. Doyoung and Yuta are a little squeamish still of diapers. Taeil, Johnny, Taeyong, Jungwoo, Xiaojun, Mark, and Hendery try, but some of them still seem scared to touch her, to spend time alone with a newborn who is so utterly fragile. And for some of them it seems that they’re just desperately ready for you to be recovered, ready to have sex again.

“It takes some time,” you explain to Johnny one evening when he approaches you. “I’m sorry, I know you’re horny.”

You’re not ready to have sex again, so the most you can offer any of them are handjobs, maybe a blowjob. 

You’re standing in the kitchen, just cleaning up a few dishes. Taeyong and Doyoung are upstairs watching Mei, so it doesn’t seem like such a bad idea when you offer to Johnny, “Do you want me to give you a hand?”

So moments later, you’re sitting on the edge of the counter, Johnny between your knees. You’re kissing him with one hand in his hair, the other down the front of his pants, softly kissing away his moans, giving him a few of your own to edge him closer. 

“Shit, I want to be inside you,” Johnny groans, fucking forward into your grip. 

“Just a few more weeks.” You kiss the corner of his mouth, then sit back. You twist your fingers tight in his hair, tugging lightly. Johnny’s eyes fall shut, a moan slipping free of his lips. “Then we can--”

Distantly, you hear the sound of Mei crying; her howling cries that she seems too tiny to be able to make. Your head jerks toward the doorway of the kitchen. You can see the stairs from here.

Johnny sighs, and his forehead touches against the side of yours. 

“I’m close. Please, babe.” He bucks forward through the ring of your fingers, grinding closer, trying to get himself over the edge. “Just finish me off, then go.”

She howls again, and you wonder what Doyoung and Taeyong are doing up there. Johnny pants desperately, so you turn your attention back to him, dragging his mouth back into a kiss, tugging on his hair, jerking him off just the way you know gets him off quickest.

He cums with a grunt, coating your hand in his load, and as soon as he’s finished, you pull your hand out of his pants, rinse it off in the sink, and then you hurry from the room, up the stairs after the sound of your daughter’s cries.

By the time you reach the room, you can see she’s red-faced, crying while Doyoung tries changing her diaper, and Taeyong’s desperately trying to calm her. 

“Did you pinch her or something?” You ask, wiping your hands on your pants, wrapping them briefly in your shirt to make sure they’re dry. Taeyong looks up at you with panic in his eyes. 

“She just woke up and started screaming,” he says. “Is she hungry? She’s not really all that messy.” Taeyong gestures at her diaper. 

Doyoung’s doing just fine, wiping her clean, changing her while holding his breath. Once he’s got the diaper safely fastened, he wipes his hands clean with a wet wipe, then lifts her up in his arms to rock her. He looks up at you then. “We were doing just fine before that.”

Slowly her cries quiet down, the bright color of frustration draining from her face until she’s back to normal, her little fists gathered around Doyoung’s pinkie finger and his thumb. Her dark eyes are still open wide, gazing up at his face. 

You sit down on your bed, and Taeyong sits with you.

“I feel kinda bad,” you tell him. “I left Johnny down there, but her crying had me worried. I hate that I can’t give you guys the time and attention you deserve.”

Taeyong smiles softly, stroking the back of your head. “She needs you more than we do. And I’m sure Ten would be more than happier to help out. Kun said that you told him it’s okay. Right?” You nod. Taeyong nods too, then lets out a breath before saying, “That’s a relief, honestly. Because I didn’t want to feel guilty about still sleeping with him.”

“It’s fine, Taeyong. What you have with him predates what you have with me anyway.” You squeeze his thigh reassuring. You truly don’t mind sharing any of them with Ten. “I don’t want to be the one to mess with that.”

Taeyong grins and kisses your cheek. “Thanks. Well, now you’re back, and you and Doyoung probably have this handled, I’m heading to the studio.” He stands and stretches his arms over his head, the hem of his shirt lifting up just enough that you can see the red mark of a hickey on his hipbone. “I’m almost finished up with all this recording,” Taeyong says excitedly.

And when he’s gone from the room, you flop back into your bed, staring up at your ceiling. 

Doyoung comes over to the side of the bed a moment later, and when you turn your attention to him, he’s holding Mei to his chest, but he’s only looking at you. He asks, “Can I join you?”

You nod.

The mattress shakes as Doyoung does his best to settle down carefully into the bed beside you. Mei goes comfortably onto her tummy on Doyoung’s chest, her little fist up at her mouth, thumb between her lips. You scoot closer, your face close in front of hers, and you sigh.

Doyoung rests a hand on her back.

“You okay?” He asks. “Feeling good still?”

Just a few days before, an ever-concerned Doyoung had approached you and begun asking you what felt like very pointed questions that you eventually determined was him trying to make sure that you weren’t suffering from postpartum depression. You’d convinced him you were fine and feeling good about everything, which was absolutely the truth. Still is the truth. But while staring here at your daughter’s face you just feel like you never want to leave her side.

Originally, you’d planned to go back to working after about six weeks.

“I’m not so sure I want to go back to work,” you tell Doyoung.

Mei blinks, sucking at her thumb. She’s looking at you, and you wonder if she can really see you right now, if she can distinguish your face, tell you apart from Doyoung or WinWin or Miso.

“So don’t go back.” Doyoung’s words are simple, direct. “If you just want to stay home and take care of Mei, then that’s perfectly fine. She’s the most important job you can have, anyway. We’re here to make sure you and this little princess have a stable future.”

You nod. “Maybe when she’s older I’ll go back to work, but I think while she’s young, before she can go to school, I want to spend time with her, teach her.”

Doyoung smiles. “You’ll make her brave and smart. She’ll go to school and they won’t know what hit them. A tiny little sweet faced girl with a big personality, a big heart, and a brain to match. She’ll be the perfect combination of all her daddies.”

You laugh. You can see it now: a little girl with WinWin’s face in her little uniform and braided pigtails, walking into her first classroom with confidence, jabbering away and making friends, impressing teachers. You want to build Mei into a strong, confident, brave girl who’s intelligent and knows her own worth, who won’t let anyone put her down or make her feel small.

You can’t wait to meet her.

When Mei is one month old, WinWin accompanies you to the checkup appointment with the pediatrician. The appointment goes well, and WinWin makes it clear that he’s eager to be Mei’s dad, asking the doctor all kinds of questions about things that you didn’t even consider. He asks the doctor if she thinks it will confuse Mei if she hears multiple languages on a regular basis.

“Oh, no. Quite the opposite. Children raised in multilingual homes often benefit greatly. They can have improved concentration skills, are better at providing solutions, and generally perform better academically.” She smiles encouragingly. “But, out of curiosity, how many languages are we talking? Two? Three?”

You and WinWin look at each other.  

“Probably three,” you tell her. “Potentially four or five.”

Korean and Chinese and English you figure will primarily be spoken around her, but Japanese and Thai are also possibilities. You don’t even mention that Cantonese might occasionally be spoken around her as well. 

“Oh, well that is impressive.” She scribbles something on her clipboard. “I think little Mei will certainly benefit from that.”

When you’re leaving the doctor’s office, WinWin carries Mei’s little carrier. She’s awake and looking up at him, and he keeps speaking to her in Chinese using a cutesy tone. Though as soon as you’re outside, he looks up at you. “Are you hungry? I was thinking we could go grab something to eat?”

There’s a place right around the corner that WinWin knows, so that’s where you go. It’s been a while since you’ve been out on anything that seems like a date. The last time you really went out somewhere and did things with people was your baby shower, and that was three months ago. Your last date was before that, when Lucas took you out to dinner just days before he broke up with you, which is somewhat upsetting when you think about it. And you’ve gone to a few parks over the last few weeks, taking Mei out for some fresh air and sunlight with your various boyfriends, but none of those really counted as dates, so you’re excited when you get to sit down at a table with WinWin and Mei.

Even by the time you do get home afterwards, you’re still buzzing with happiness from how wonderfully the appointment had gone plus the lunch date afterwards, and how Mei didn’t start getting fussy until right as you were arriving home.

You’re just in a very good mood. While you nurse Mei, Xiaojun sits with you and tells you a dramatic retelling of his day with Hendery and YangYang. Renjun wanders into your room a bit later to hangout and hold Mei. The whole afternoon is just guys coming in and out of your room, and you’re feeling great and happy, and you’re feeling good enough that when Jungwoo and Johnny come in to interrupt you doing yoga (in an attempt to get your body as closely to how it was before the pregnancy), you don’t mind. You let them sit and watch. Johnny even helps you with a few poses, and Jungwoo lies down on the floor with you, but he puts Mei on his chest to give her a little bit of tummy time.

You’re in the midst of laughing with Jungwoo and Johnny when Doyoung steps into your doorway, knocks on the doorframe, and says, “We have a little problem.”

That happy little bubble you’ve been living in all day pops.

Doyoung summons a group meeting, so you and Jungwoo and everyone else who’s home descend to the living room. You bring Mei with you, apologizing to Renjun that you don’t want to leave her alone with him (not his fault, it’s just you being nervous being away from her). Not everyone is home, so Doyoung calls Taeyong, Kun, and Jaehyun who are all working and puts them on speaker so they can listen in.

You sit nervously in the big armchair. Ten squeezes in with you, and he convinces you to pass Mei over into Uncle Ten’s loving arms.

“What’s wrong, Doyoung?” You ask first once everyone’s gathered.

He sighs and holds up his phone, which has Twitter open on it. There’s a long thread of tweets, images and text, and you’re not sure what that’s all about, not until he says, “It’s amazing that it took fans this long to catch on.”

“What do you mean by that?” Jaehyun’s voice is staticky over the phonecall. “Caught on to what?”

“To us.” Doyoung explains. “Apparently, our girlfriend and WinWin and Mei were spotted out together today by a fan, and now the pictures are everywhere.”

WinWin swears under his breath. 

“But it’s not just that. It was at first.” Doyoung scrolls up to the top of the Twitter thread on his phone. “Some fans realized that they’ve seen her before, so there’s this thread and a whole bunch of others just full of photos of us and you, sweetheart. Going back ages. I’ve been reading comments, and people were saying that for a long time they just thought you were one of our managers or a staff member or something, but then others had their photos, had stories of times they’ve spotted us out with you. There was some fan who said she saw you out with Hendery and Jungwoo. 

“So now they’re pretty sure that you’re dating one of us, or secretly married to one of us, but they don’t know who. Until today, seeing you and Mei with WinWin, they think they’ve solved it all.” Doyoung rubs his hand over his face, clearly exasperated. “But others think differently, because you’ve been spotted out carrying Mei on your walks through the park with me, with Taeil, with Mark and Taeyong. Some fans are just generally pissed off about all of this.”

Everyone’s been staring at Doyoung or else looking down at their phones as they also search social media for all of these swirling rumors and gossip.

Taeil’s the first to sit forward, and he looks over at you. “I don’t think you should leave the house for a few days until this dies down. For your safety.”

You know he’s talking about their sasaengs. Somehow they’ve been lucky enough that sasaengs haven’t camped out in front of this house like you know they did at their apartments when you first met them. You’re sure that many of those photos in that thread Doyoung’s talking about were taken by sasaengs.

“What are we going to do?” Kun asks, his voice sounding echoey and very distant over the phone. 

“What can we do?” Yuta responds. “I say we just let it all die down, don’t acknowledge the rumors at all.”

Doyoung sighs heavily. “I don’t think we can really do that, hyung. I’m sure the company is going to want to talk to all of us about it. And we can’t just ignore it and pretend that we don’t know what they’re talking about because there is all of this photo evidence, many stories, there are videos, and apparently when Xiaojun did an Insta live last week, you could hear Mei crying in the background.”

“Just say it was Haechan,” Mark suggests. “Say he was acting like a baby.”

“Or we could just tell the truth,” Jaehyun says over the phone. 

Yuta rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but what part of the truth? That Mei is WinWin’s baby, or that literally the fourteen of us all had the same girlfriend and that for nine months didn’t know which of us was fathering her child? That part of the truth? I feel like our NCTzens would possibly explode. Imagine the chaos. We’d probably be forced to disband.”

“Obviously not that whole truth, dumbass.” Jaehyun retorts. 

Yuta starts to bicker back at him, but Taeyong’s voice speaks up loudly over the phone, cutting them both off. “We’re not our own PR team. This isn’t something that we have to address right now, so maybe we should at least wait until we’re all home and can talk about it together, right?”

Right.

But you decide to go on to bed. It’s late enough that you can go without drawing suspicion, and as you’ve got Mei comfy in her bed, you curl up in your bed and open Twitter on your phone.

Maybe it’s a bad idea to search up what fans are saying, but you can’t help it. Especially now when you see half of your boyfriends’ names trending along with NCT and some other things that you’re sure are related to this drama going on. It is somewhat disturbing to see this evidence that the fans are gathering against you, to see the nasty things that they’re saying--threats against you and you even see a few against your daughter that have you muffling your tears against your pillow--and you’re still looking at all of this in horror when the door of your room opens. 

A shadowy figure slips from the lit hallway outside into the dark of your bedroom. You hear the familiar footfalls, and when he falls into bed, it’s a comfortable and intimately familiar weight and heat as he rolls against your side.

“Are you okay?” Mark asks.

His feet bump against yours, and as his head edges onto your pillow, he sees what you’re looking at and sees the blue light of your screen reflecting off the wetness on your cheeks.

“No, that’s what we’re not going to do, okay?” Mark sits up and plucks your phone from your hand, rolls over to the far side of your bed, and sits your phone on the bedside table before he comes back. His thumbs are gentle when he wipes at your cheeks. His voice only sounds a little frustrated, more concerned than anything else as he questions, “Why were you looking at all that?” 

“I wanted to know what they’ve seen, what they had to say.” You sniffle and press your face into the pillow. “Your fans can be terrible.”

Mark sinks down beside you once more, and he places a soothing hand on your back, rubbing up and down your spine. “Listen, you and Mei are safe. If you think that we’d ever let them do anything to hurt either of you....” Mark’s cheek rests against your shoulder. “We’ll fix this. I know we will.”

You sigh shakily, and turn, wrapping yourself around Mark, squeezing him in a hug as you hide your face against his neck. He hugs you back just as tightly. 

It’s hours later, Mark has fallen asleep beside you, and his arm is still tucked under your head, his fingers on that hand are tangled in your hair as he’d fallen asleep gently massaging your scalp in an attempt to get you to fall asleep (which was unsuccessful). There’s a soft glow from the nightlight in the corner of the room, and by its light you’ve been watching Mark’s face, counting his eyelashes and his freckles and then counting his breaths, but you can’t calm your mind enough to slow down and fall asleep.

So you hear Mei waking up, hear her starting to cry. You know you need to get up, leave the nice comforting warmth of the bed, to go feed her, but all you want to do is just stay right there.

You squeeze your eyes shut even as her cries begin to build.

Mark’s sleeping like a rock, so he doesn’t stir. You press closer, press your face to his chest.

The bedroom door opens, and a sleepy Taeil with messy hair comes inside. You can just barely see him through your eyelashes; can see him looking at you and Mark, then his gaze sweeps across the room to the crib in the corner and Mei’s little pink face scrunched up as she cries.

He crosses quietly to the crib, shuffling barefooted, his sweatpants dragging along the floor like socks.

You can’t see him from this angle but you can hear as he shushes Mei, cooing and making soft noises to soothe her. You can hear the rustling as he picks her up, the creak of wood as he settles down in the rocking chair. She keeps crying though, no matter how desperately Taeil tries to soothe her, and after a few minutes of that, you sit up in bed and look over at him.

He’s rocking in the chair, trying to get her to take the pacifier, but she keeps spitting it back out when it’s not giving her what she really wants.

You sigh and push out of bed. Taeil looks up at you.

“Unless you’ve got tits, Taeil, I don’t think she’s gonna calm down for you.” You stand beside him, push your fingers into his hair.

“I thought you were asleep,” he whispers back to you. He doesn’t look away from Mei, just keeps looking down at her puckered face.

Your fingers slide down from his hair to the back of his neck, resting gently there. “I can’t sleep. I just keep thinking about what your fans are saying.” 

Taeil looks up at you then, a frown drawing his eyebrows tightly together. “You don’t need to look at what they’re saying. Our managers have already said that we’re going to have a big PR meeting probably tomorrow so our company can put out a statement. But you don’t need to worry about anything. You’re safe here.”

Mei lets out another piercingly loud cry from such a small baby, and you reach for her. Taeil hands her up to you easily, then he stands, gesturing for you to sit in the chair. You don’t even think about it as you move your top to bare your breast for Mei to latch onto, but Taeil makes a short noise, and when you look up at him, he’s looking away, rubbing at the back of his head like he’s embarrassed.

You try to hide your smile. “You’re all so funny about this, you know. Half of you get embarrassed to look at my boobs now. You’ve seen them before, Taeil.”

“I know that.” He mumbles, and you swear if there were a bit more light in the room, you’d be able to see that he was blushing. “I just have really been missing you lately, you know? It’s been a while.” 

Taeil tries his best to keep his eyes on your face when he turns to you then, but you watch as his gaze inevitably falls to your breast. But there his gaze seems to soften at the sight of Mei’s dark little head nestled there.

Taeil sinks to his knees. “It’s all different now, you know? She’s here now, and she’s so tiny and perfect. Everything’s just.... centered differently.”

You know exactly what he means. Before Mei there were so many things--things to do, places to go, people to go see and talk to, and meaningless things to fill your time with, boyfriends to go fuck around with--and now there’s Mei and she’s just got you so wrapped up with her, none of those things feel like they matter. It’s just you and her, like your whole little world. 

“I don’t think it really matters that WinWin’s her real dad.” Taeil reaches one finger up and strokes the back of Mei’s tiny hand. “Isn’t there a saying that it takes a village to raise a child? Well, here we are. Your whole village to help raise Mei. Our Mingmei. I know that it’s not going to be easy to be here sometimes, and that there’s no way of telling what the future holds for all of us, but I want to be here. I love you. I adore Mei.” Taeil’s expression is so soft as he says that; his eyes are moist looking at you and your daughter then, and after another moment he sinks back to sit on the floor, and he turns his face away, hiding as he tries to hastily wipe away his tears.

“I don’t want you to go anywhere either, Taeil. I’ve said it before, but if Mei could have all of you as her father, that’s what I would wish.” You smile down at her. “Imagine having a dozen fathers to show up and be there any time she needs support, protection, encouragement.”

Taeil sits up then, resting a hand on your knee reassuringly. “We will be here to protect her. Especially right now.” He shakes his head, his brows set in determination. “After you came up here, Doyoung was showing us some more of what they were saying, and I swear to you, we will not let any of them near you. Ever. But there were some great things people were saying.”

You’d seen a few of those during your deep dive. Fans saying that you seemed lovely--both visually in the pictures, and then also the few fans that had stories about seeing you out with the boys had said that you had sounded sweet--and fans defending you, defending the boys, reporting accounts threatening violence toward you or Mei. There were fans gushing over the boys as fathers, fans going wild thinking about aesthetic baby pics that some of them might post on their Instagrams. 

There were definitely some wonderful things you’d seen, but it was hard to focus on those when there was so much negativity inspiring fear and anxiety and terrible things in you. 

By the time Mei finishes nursing, even you are finally starting to feel tired. Taeil takes her from you as you attempt to pull your shirt back into place, and he paces around the room, singing quietly, patting her back to burp her. You just sit there in the rocking chair, rocking back and forth, your eyes feeling heavier and heavier as you watch Taeil and listen to him.

You don’t even realize that you’ve dipped off, not until there’s fingers on your shoulder and on your cheek, a quiet voice calling your name. 

“Hmm?” You open your eyes.

Taeil, smiling sleepily too. “You should get in bed, my love. Mei’s fine,” he explains when you sit up suddenly and look around. “She fell asleep, so I put her back down. Come on, into bed.” He helps you cross the few feet to the bed, his hand in yours, and once you’ve slid back in between the covers, your head once more on the pillow, Taeil smooths hand over your hair, and leans in to whisper, “Goodnight,” and he places a loving kiss on your forehead. 

You’re asleep before you can remember to mumble a sweet “goodnight” back to him.

Maybe it was a mistake telling your boyfriends that the doctor had approved and even encouraged the use of multiple languages with Mei. Because after you tell them that, then you rarely hear the Chinese members speak in anything other than Chinese to her. Yuta almost exclusively reads and sings and speaks to her in Japanese. Johnny, Mark, and even sometimes Jaehyun and Ten speak English to Mei. You even catch Xiaojun singing in Cantonese to her.

Mei looks up at him, waving her arms and legs, cooing happily as he leans on the side of her crib to sing to her.

“What are you doing?” You ask, sliding up beside him, one arm curling around his waist, your cheek resting on his shoulder. “She’s going to be so confused when she’s older if you speak to her in Mandarin and Cantonese, Jun.” You brush your lips in a light kiss to his exposed shoulder.

“She’s going to be smart,” Xiaojun responds quickly. “Going to speak five languages by the time she’s five, and put all of us to shame with her brain.” You feel him kiss you on the top of your head. “Were you still on for coming with WinWin, Ten, and I later?”

It’s been a few weeks since the rumors first struck. Their PR team put out a statement, claiming that you were just a staff member and close friend of the group who happened to have a baby. A lot of fans had backed off, but you were still a little wary about leaving the house unless it was necessary. You’d only left for appointments, and then to go meet up with your parents once for them to fawn over their granddaughter.

“I don’t know, Xiaojun. Your fans are still watching us.” You step away from him.

Lately there’s been a heightened presence of sasaengs around the boys. You’d even noticed one following you on your way to the last appointment you’d had with your doctor—one where you’d been cleared to return to work (if you wanted that) and to resume sexual activities (though she did advise that you take it easy, so no rough sex, no orgies)—and you’d been lucky to find that an old friend of yours was acting as a courier, and he was in the doctor’s office dropping something off right as you were leaving. He’d walked out with you, and though he was working, he did walk with you and make sure that the sasaeng stopped following.

Xiaojun turns away from the crib to follow you, his fingers catching on your sleeve, sliding down over your hand. “Hey, babe. Look, I know that lately we’ve been under more surveillance than normal. I’ve seen what they’re saying online, people still doubting the story that our team put out, but that doesn’t mean that you need to withdraw from us.” Xiaojun strokes the back of your hand until you turn it over and he laces his fingers through yours. “Come out with us tonight. Let Kun or Jaehyun or one of them watch Mei, and come have fun.”

You glance uncertainly over at Mei’s crib. “I don’t know....”

You haven’t left Mei yet, not for any extended period of time, not for longer than a shower or a quick snack in the kitchen along with a handjob for Johnny. Leaving her for two or three hours, that just doesn’t sound like something you’re ready for yet.

“I’ll think about it.” You tell him.

Xiaojun lets out a happy sound, and then he cups your face between his hands, and pulls you into a quick kiss. “Please say yes. We’re just going to see a movie. And whoever watches her will have to deal with Jaehyun probably hovering protectively right at his shoulder the whole time. She’ll be fine.” He pecks you on the lips again, and this time you twist your fingers in the bottom of his top, lean in on your toes, and kiss him again.

Xiaojun makes a pleasant sound, his fingers slide into your hair, angling your mouth against his. You want to push this a little further, want to feel his bare skin against yours, feel the pleasure that you haven’t felt for weeks and weeks now.

He smiles into the kiss as you push your hands up under his top, moving up his chest. He almost giggles when you feel up his pecs. Xiaojun pulls back just a little, pecking you on the lips playfully amidst his giggles, before pressing back in fully.

You can do this, you tell yourself. Your doctor cleared you for sex again, and you know that Xiaojun will be gentle with you, that he’s a good choice to be your first time again. This will be fine.

When you drop your hands from his chest, slipping your fingertips beneath the waistband of his pants, Xiaojun slows down as if he’s a little confused by you initiating this. And when you touch his dick, he backs off and his eyebrows draw together in confusion. “Are you... Are you sure?”

“Mmmh.” You nod. “My doctor finally cleared me. I’m good as long as we take it a little slow.”

Xiaojun’s smile returns, and he cocks his head to the side a little and looks you up and down. “So I should treat you like a virgin, right? Take it easy and slow?”

You whine. “Don’t tease me, Xiaojun.”

“No, I won’t.” He kisses you sweetly. “But are you sure? You want to do this now? Here?”

Mei’s just right over in the corner, unknowingly looking up at the mobile spinning over her head, unaware of what’s going on here. It does feel a little bit weird, but she won’t know. She won’t have a clue what’s going on.

“I’m sure.” You nod. “Well, I’m sure that I at least want to see how far we can go. I just,” you sigh, “feel like we’ll be interrupted by one thing or another. A baby, a boyfriend, discomfort. Something. But yes.”

 “We’ll figure it out.” Xiaojun bounces a little eagerly and excitedly on his toes. “God, I really want you.”

You kind of love that Xiaojun doesn’t rush you at all even after he says that. He doesn’t push you to hurry into anything, is content with just lying in your bed and making out, letting your hands wander over his bare arms, delving into his hair, slipping through the large cutouts at his sides to scrape your nails lightly over his back or his abs or his chest. He doesn’t try to get you to touch him lower down his body even when you can feel how hard he is against your thigh. Xiaojun lets you take it all at your own pace, lets you pull his hands under your shirt.

You’re feeling more confident with your body now than you were even just a few weeks ago. You’ve looked at mommy forums online, and they say that it’s not uncommon to feel negatively about your body for quite a while after birth, but you’re happier now.

So when Xiaojun touches your belly, as he lifts your shirt up over your chest, you don’t feel embarrassed at all. You feel the heat of lust burning in your belly, your skin flushed with heat even as cool air touches your chest.

“Fuck, so pretty. I’ve missed you like this,” Xiaojun groans, breaking away from your lips to kiss your neck, then skipping down to your chest, the mound of your tits in your bra. His thigh slips between your knees, his lips dance over your chest, and you can’t help the breathy little sounds that spill from your lips.

You clap a hand over your mouth.

“Don’t be shy,” Xiaojun chuckles. “You make such pretty noises, babe. Let me hear them.”

You obediently drop your hand, sliding your fingers into his hair instead as Xiaojun keeps kissing your chest, and his hand finally slips down into your panties.

“Ah!” The little gasped sound escapes your lips when Xiaojun’s finger glides over your clit.

He grinds subtly against your thigh, and moans softly, lifting his head from your chest and kisses you again.

It’s been so long since you were touched like this, that it’s literally seconds before Xiaojun is smirking at just how wet you’ve grown. He sticks with touching your clit, kissing away all the sweet sounds you’re making, until you start moving with him, rocking your hips up and looking for more than just the touches to your clit.

Xiaojun moves down to kiss at your neck, and as he does that, he slips a finger inside you.

You moan loudly, your hand flying down to grip at Xiaojun’s forearm, not to stop him but just to hold on to him as he fingers you. It doesn’t hurt or anything, it’s a bit uncomfortable after everything your vagina went through just a little over a month and a half ago. But it still feels so good.

Your fingernails dig into his skin just as his teeth nip at your throat, his cock rubs against your thigh, and Xiaojun makes a muffled sound against your neck. You let go of his wrist, snaking your hand inside his pants to touch his cock, to help him feel good too.

“Wait,” he mumbles, “I feel like this should be about you.”

“Very chivalrous of you, but I kinda want you to enjoy this too.” You try to keep going, but Xiaojun stops, sits up, and pulls his hand entirely out of your pants, then grabs your wrist and removes your hand from his pants as well. You pout up at him.

He looks away from you, up at the ceiling. “Please don’t give me that look.”

“Then come touch me some more.” You reach for his waistband.

Xiaojun bats your hand away, and moves down the bed. “I’m going to, but, babe, I want the focus to be on you. I don’t care about me right now because I guarantee I had an orgasm more recently than you. So, please, just let me make you feel good first.”

You really can’t argue with that.

“Okay. Fine, do with me what you will.” You spread out your arms and legs, dramatically going limp.

Xiaojun rolls his eyes affectionately. “Can I take your pants off?”

You lift up your hips to help him slide your pants off, then he kneels up over you, pulling the shirt up over your head.

He sinks back down to sit on his heels and drinks in the sight of you before him.

You wonder if he’s thinking of the last time he had you like this, because you know that you are. It’s been months and months since the last time that you and Xiaojun were alone together like this, taking the time to appreciate and take each other apart. It was shortly after you learned you were pregnant, you’d spent the whole morning in bed together, getting each other off; you’d spent at least half an hour kissing his entire body, sucking his cock, praising his body.

“Fuck, I love you,” he sighs, and falls over you again, his body covering yours as he captures you in a kiss once more. Xiaojun slips a hand under your back, and you feel his fingers fumble for a second or two with the clasp on the back of your bra before it releases. You sigh in comfortable relief, and reach up to pull the straps down your arms, freeing yourself of the bra entirely.

You hold your breath as Xiaojun starts to kiss down your body—trailing burning kisses down your throat, between your breasts, down your belly, and at last he reaches the edge of your panties.

His nose nudges against your clit through the material, and when Xiaojun places the gentlest of kisses right over your pussy, your breath catches in your throat before shaking its way free. He lifts his head so he can see your face as he finally removes the last piece of clothing on your body.

The last time you were this naked in front of one of your boyfriends was when you showered with Jaehyun before you found out WinWin was Mei’s father. Almost two months ago.

When you feel his breath on your bare, wet pussy, all you can do is close your eyes, bite your bottom lip, and pray that he’s about to eat you out. You want so badly to really, truly get your pussy eaten the way that hasn’t been done in a long time.

And right as Xiaojun grants your nonverbal wish, his tender lips kissing your clit, a new voice of doubt enters your mind.

What if you look different down there? Or smell or taste different?

You haven’t really taken much time to pay attention to if giving birth altered how your pussy looks. You have no idea if you’re going to taste different. You’re only kinda sure that you don’t smell different. And what if it doesn’t feel right when he eats you out anymore? You’ve read that sex might feel different after the baby, and you’ve always loved Xiaojun eating you out. Him and WinWin are two of your favorites when it comes to oral.

You just start doubting all of this, thinking and worrying, so even as Xiaojun’s doing his best down there, you’re not giving him any reactions. Not until he pulls back and looks up at your face to ask, “Does it not feel good?”

“I’m sorry.” You groan, rubbing a hand over your face. “I think I’m just... thinking too much.”

“Relax.” Xiaojun puts a hand on your thigh, massaging gently. “You don’t need to think about anything, don’t worry or stress.”

He’s probably right. You don’t need to worry about any of that stuff. He’s clearly not turned off by what he’s faced with down there right now, as he’s already diving back in to sweep his tongue against you. You just need to relax, to sink into the pleasure of what he’s doing, and forget everything else but just that.

Easier said than done, honestly, but you do try.

Xiaojun sets to work on fucking you open on his middle finger again, his tongue at your clit. Slowly, it does start to feel really good; you get out of your mind and just relax into the pleasure, your body taking over, moving with Xiaojun. A second finger joins the first, and soon he’s even got a third finger pumping inside you, his lips sucking at your clit.

You twist your head to the side and bite at your upper arm to keep your moans in check as your orgasm quickly rises. Your chest heaves, whines leaking out even though you try to keep quiet, and Xiaojun lifts his head.

“You look so sexy right now. Are you going to cum on my fingers, babe?” Xiaojun moans a little, sitting up on his knees so he can kiss at your belly, then a little higher up your chest. His lips brush against your breasts, and you shudder from the small burst of pleasure that gives you. His hips dip down, hard cock grinding against your leg, and his three fingers push in deep inside you, stretching you so your pussy really feels it in the best way.

“Fuck, Dejun. Deeper.” Your hands fly to his shoulders, fingertips digging in. “I want you to make me....”

He drops back down, face dipping once more between your legs. With his free hand he pushes at your thigh, trying to get you to spread your legs even farther apart. His tongue flicks over your clit, fingers pressing inside you. The knot in your belly grows tighter, the warm tingling of pleasure building higher and higher, and you feel so close, your body growing hotter, orgasm just within reach the air itself feeling like it’s sparkling around you.

Xiaojun sucks your clit between his lips, his fingers press in right against your G-spot, and just like that your orgasm unleashes.

Your toes curl, body arching up, hips rolling against his mouth, and the guttural sighs and moans that leave your mouth are barely muffled as you bite at your lip in an attempt to keep them in. Your chest rises and falls and feels damp, your whole body warm and shaky and you feel like you’re sweating, but it’s different.

Xiaojun licks you through the throes of ecstasy, only backing off and pulling his fingers out when your hips have eased back down against the bed and you’re whining, thighs twitching on either side of his ears.

And it’s then that you open your eyes from where they were squeezed shut.

Xiaojun’s face is the first thing you see, his wondrous gaze locked on your chest. “Is that your milk?” He asks. And for the first time you realize that your chest doesn’t just feel damp, doesn’t just feel sweaty from that mind-blowing orgasm, your breasts have leaked out breastmilk during that orgasm.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry.” You cover your face in embarrassment. “Oh my god, I just, god, didn’t know that would happen.”

Xiaojun just laughs. “It’s fine. It’s kinda hot, honestly.”

“Right, my boobs squirting is very attractive.” You can’t convince yourself to pull your hands away from your face. Not until you feel Xiaojun’s tongue on your skin. “You are not licking up my breast milk, are you?” You lift your head to look down at him.

Xiaojun freezes and makes eye contact with you. His tongue hasn’t yet reached where your breast milk has leaked down to. So he pulls his tongue back inside his mouth. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it. It’s just breastmilk, right? What’s the possible harm?”

It’s not like you’ve never heard of this before. You’d read in forums and stuff about mother’s tasting their own breastmilk, fathers tasting their wife or girlfriend’s breastmilk. You’d even read about someone letting their friends, brothers, and more try it. You think that one’s a bit strange, but you can’t deny that you had tasted a little bit of yours yourself one morning out of curiosity. And while you were pregnant Jungwoo had confessed his interest in it.

You just hadn’t expected Xiaojun to be into this.

“I mean, you can if you want to, I guess.” You drop your head back down onto the bed.

Xiaojun’s tongue touches your skin again, and it feels so nice. And then his mouth is on your tits, gentle lips and tongue lapping at the spilled breastmilk. Your pussy starts to throb again with arousal as Xiaojun’s tongue races right up to the edge of your nipple, and then he stops.

You groan and lift your head to look at him again, and just as your eyes meet, Xiaojun flicks his tongue over your nipple, lapping at the damp peak.

It’s certainly not a whimper that leaves your lips.

Xiaojun laughs, and then he does it all over again; his warm tongue tracing over your chest on the other side, though this time he takes his time with your breast, and upon reaching your nipple, he closes his lips briefly around the nipple to flick his tongue at the hardened bud. It’s weird feeling it like this, so different from before when they would lick and suck at your nipples during sex, but also a lot different too than when Mei does it.

You feel like you should not be deriving sexual pleasure from one of your boyfriends basically nursing from you—breastmilk flowing from your nipple into his mouth—but Xiaojun doesn’t stop. In fact, he also seems to be getting off from it. His hips roll against the bed, grinding down into the mattress. He moans, brings one hand up to the side of your breast, gently massaging as he continues with this.

“Fuck me,” you sigh, a plea and a sound of pleasure. And Xiaojun obeys, pulling away from you just long enough to push his pants down and kick them off the foot of the bed, and then he’s back, hips cradled between your thighs. You knot your fingers in the front of his shirt, “Now.”

Xiaojun is gentle and slow, tenderly stroking your thigh as he enters you. He leaves little kisses on your throat and your chest, and it’s only when he starts shallowly rocking into you that he lowers his mouth to your chest and once again starts laving his attention on your tits.

It’s not terrible, just a little uncomfortable. There’s a dull ache that’s not pleasant at all as he thrusts into you, and even though you can tell Xiaojun’s holding back, just trying to make you feel good. And you can feel it—the pleasure is right there through a thin veil of discomfort, and you know if you can just get past that then this will be great. Sweet love-making with Xiaojun would be perfect.

You slide your hands over his back, dipping your fingers beneath his shirt to scrape lightly over his shoulders, and Xiaojun moans. He loses a little bit of restraint, thrusting deeper and a little harder, and there you find the pleasure.

“More,” you moan.

Xiaojun nuzzles against your breast, his lips closed around your nipple as he moans, tasting you on his tongue, feeling you warm and wet around his cock. You’re not surprised that he might not last long. Not surprised when he moans again and draws his hips back, cock leaving you empty as he cums across your belly, still suckling at your tit.

You cradle a hand against the back of his head, your eyes flutter closed, and you think you could let this sweet pleasure overwhelm you again, take you into another orgasm, to peaceful bliss.

The door opens suddenly (why do they never seem to know how to knock when you’re in the middle of something?) and there, framed in the doorway, stand Jungwoo and WinWin.

Xiaojun lifts his head slowly, his lips releasing your tit as he turns his wide-eyed gaze to his members. There’s a small hint of breastmilk on his bottom lip.

There’s no possible way to deny what just happened.

For one thing, you’re lying fully nude beneath Xiaojun. His face was just buried against your chest. Both of you are fully flushed in the face. He looks dazed, horny, and (as you just noted) there’s breastmilk on his bottom lip.

WinWin and Jungwoo stare at both of you in silence for a long moment that finally breaks when WinWin shakes his head and marches inside, heading straight over to the crib.

Mei’s still happily oblivious to what’s been going on. WinWin scoops her up, cradling her in his arms, and as he turns to face you on the bed, he shields her little face from the sight of you and Xiaojun with his hand. His voice is somewhat amused, somewhat scandalized, as he asks, “In front of our daughter?”

Xiaojun rolls to the edge of the bed and sits upright, tries to cover up with the edge of the duvet cover, and then folds his hands in his lap. But when he notices that Jungwoo’s staring at him—most notably, staring at his mouth—he quickly wipes at his lips and chin, smearing away the last of the evidence of what he’d just been doing.

You sit up as well, dragging a blanket over your lap, folding your arms in front of your breasts. “In my defense, there’s absolutely no way that she knows what just happened.”

WinWin shakes his head, trying to look disapproving, but you can see the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile as he looks back down at Mei. “So does this mean that you’re cleared again?” He asks. “Doctor says you can have sex?”

You nod, looking around at him, at the back of Xiaojun’s head where he’s facing away from you, at Jungwoo still framed in the doorway and gazing in awe at you and Xiaojun. “Yeah, just nothing really intense or rough. So no orgies for a while. Her actual words.”

“Good to know.” WinWin wiggles his fingers in front of Mei’s face, and she knocks around one of her little fists, as if she’s trying to grasp his fingers in front of her. He can’t pull his eyes away from her as he says, “I’m pretty sure I owe you some kind of great thank you for this gift right here.”

He starts walking toward the door again, and Jungwoo even steps out of the way to let him pass, so you ask, “Where are you going with her?”

“I’m going to spend a little quality time with my daughter,” WinWin says, and if life were a cartoon then his pupils would be heart-shaped as Mei grips onto one of his fingers right then. “You and Xiaojun can finish up here. Clean up before we go to the movie tonight.” His gaze finally lifts from your daughter, flicking in Xiaojun’s direction.

Xiaojun starts to say something in response, but WinWin’s already ducked out of sight of the doorway, leaving Jungwoo still standing there.

He doesn’t move, even as Xiaojun stands and starts to gather his pants and underwear from where he’s kicked them. Jungwoo just stares at you, at your bare tits. You can kind of guess what he’s thinking, and right as Xiaojun’s shimmying his pants back into place, Jungwoo asks, “Does it taste alright?”

Xiaojun freezes, glancing between you and Jungwoo.

You don’t really care what his answer is. It’s breastmilk, it’s not meant for him anyway, so you don’t think his opinion on it really matters. Instead of intently listening to him, you climb out of bed, turning your back on your boyfriends to get dressed.

“It’s not bad. Wouldn’t be my first choice of drink, but I’m not going to pretend like I wouldn’t definitely do that again.” Xiaojun sounds so pleased with himself as he says it, and you roll your eyes affectionately, carrying your clothes in your arms into the bathroom to shower, leaving Xiaojun and Jungwoo out there to discuss your breasts and your milk. You need to shower and get ready for the first date you’ll have in months.

Once the others realize that you’re open to having sex again, you’ve got a parade of boyfriends trying to get between your legs again. Or at least, after hearing about what WinWin and Jungwoo had walked in on, they keep asking to taste your breastmilk.

Self-consciously, you cross your arms over your chest as Mark’s folded himself onto the end of your bed and just asked you in a very serious voice, “So can I have a taste too?”

“Mark, shut the fuck up.” Yuta’s sitting right beside you, holding Mei who’s just looking up at him and smiling. She’s been doing that a lot lately, making this absolutely adorable smile that has every single person in this house wrapped around her tiny fingers. “If you want to taste it just go get in the minifridge.” Yuta jerks his head over to the set up you’ve got tucked in the corner beside the rocking chair, now that you’re pumping milk just so you don’t have to get your tits out every time that Mei cries for food.

“Do not drink Mei’s supply, Mark Lee.” You get up, and as you walk toward the end of the bed, you reach up to ruffle your fingers through Mark’s hair. “You boys are all so weird. Every one that’ve had a taste say it’s weird, so why do you keep asking. You don’t even eat yogurt, Mark, what do you think breastmilk is going to do to you?”

Yuta snickers.

Mark laughs too, and you smile as you rest your hand on his head. He tilts back to meet your gaze.

And then you hear it.

Your head snaps toward Yuta and Mei. You feel Mark go still beneath you. Yuta’s frozen in surprise.

You hear it again.

“Is she laughing?” You climb back onto the bed, crawling up toward the head.

Mei’s tiny little body, her smiling face. She’s laughing. And if you’ve ever had a favorite sound, it is this. Your daughter’s little giggle. She’s three and a half months old, and this is the funniest thing in her whole life.

You’re still fawning over her and the cute sounds she makes when WinWin gets home.

He always comes up to see Mei first thing when he gets home, even if it’s super late, even if he’s already extremely tired. Even if he’s fresh off a fifteen hour long shoot, he pops through the door of your bedroom.

“Sicheng!” You look up, unable to lose your grin. “Babe! Come here! She laughed!”

He looks confused for just a split second, and then Haechan (who had come into the room looking for Mark) does something and Mei laughs again.

WinWin’s face goes soft with surprise and awe, and then he lights up. Yuta’s still holding her, but he gives her up easily when WinWin makes grabby hands at his daughter. WinWin immediately hugs her and you can see Mei smiling like the happiest little baby.

For the first time since you saw her, right now as you look at the way she’s looking at her father, you realize that Mei is like a real little human. Like, on some level you’ve known that this whole time. You’ve known it since you first felt her move inside you, since you heard her first cry, since you spent all night watching her breathe.

After a little while, the others drift away, making excuses to leave, and then it’s just you and WinWin with your daughter. You scoot close beside him so you can rest your head on his shoulder, looking down at Mei cradled in his arms. Her eyelids are growing heavy, a pacifier between her lips now.

“Sometimes, when I first wake up in the morning,” WinWin says in a hushed tone, “Sometimes I think that this has all just been a dream. That I’m going to roll over, get up, and we’re going to be back where we were a year ago, before we even knew you were pregnant, and in that moment after just waking up, my heart drops. And I think that it was such a good dream.” He sighs.

Mei’s eyes fall shut, and WinWin looks down at her.

“I can’t imagine my life without her.” WinWin admits. “I hope you know that. The day I got that test result, best day of my life. I just.... I can’t even describe....”

“I understand.” You sit up a bit and kiss his cheek. “And I’m happy you’re her dad. I don’t know if I’ve ever actually said those words to you. But you’re so good at this.”

“So you’re saying I’m the best boyfriend?” WinWin smiles over at you, and judging by the way that his gaze briefly flicks past your face, over your shoulder toward where the door to your bedroom is, you assume one of the others has come to call, and WinWin’s looking to irritate whoever it is. He meets your gaze again as he says, “You’re saying that all along you wished I would be the dad, and you were just playing along with Jaehyun’s fantasies of him potentially being the dad.”

You look over and see Jaehyun leaning in the doorway, arms folded across his chest. 

Honestly your mouth waters at the sight. He looks like he’s ready for climbing into bed and staying there. Shirtless and wearing sweatpants, hair pushed back with a headband. 

“I’m glad Mei’s your daughter, WinWin. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to make Jaehyun a daddy too.” You trace your gaze down the length of Jaehyun’s body, barely able to contain yourself. 

“Alright,” WinWin groans. “I guess that’s my cue to take our daughter and go. You look like you’re about to jump him, baby.”

“You don’t have to go.” You kneel up on your bed when WinWin stands up to go.

He shakes his head. “I’m not staying here with her while you eye-fuck Jaehyun.” He looks the other man up and down. “Have fun. Looks like you could both use it.” WinWin pats Jaehyun on the shoulder as they pass each other, and you watch WinWin leaving the room, holding Mei to his shoulder, kissing her head softly.

The softness you feel at that sight wars entirely with the lust you feel when Jaehyun slinks into your bed.

One knee lands between yours, a hand to your shoulder gently presses you back, and then Jaehyun’s over top of you, his lips press against yours. It feels so good to just kiss him, to feel his body on yours, all heat and hard planes. You love the soft little grunt of pleasure he makes against your lips when you trail a hand down his chest, fingers brushing over his nipple. You love the amused sound of surprise he makes when you suddenly push him over, rolling him beneath you.

Jaehyun’s hair’s grown long over these last several weeks, and now it flares out on the bed in a not-entirely-flattering manner. But you sit on his hips, reach forward to pluck the headband from his hair, and you toss it aside so you can run your fingers freely through his hair as you sink back in to kiss him some more.

“Did you mean what you said?” Jaehyun moans a few moments later as you begin to helplessly shift your hips. “About wanting to make me a daddy too?”

“Mmmh.” You kiss down his throat. “I would gladly give you a baby, I think. You clearly want one all your own.”

Jaehyun puts a hand to your shoulder, applying gentle pressure to get you to stop for just a moment. “Hey, look at me.”

You lift your head from his throat.

When Jaehyun’s eyes are looking right into yours, he says, “I want you to know that I am perfectly happy with Mei as my daughter. You know that, right?” You start to sink back down to get back to what you were doing, but Jaehyun catches your chin between his fingers. “I don’t want you to think that you, like, owe me a biological baby, okay? I know I always talk about this breeding kink thing, but in the end it’s just that, just a kinky thing. Of course, I would love to have a baby with you, but I don’t want you to feel obligated, okay? Tell me you know that.”

“I know, Jae.” You peck him on the lips. “But I want to make you happy too. And I don’t think I want to stop with just one kid. Especially when I see how you all dote on her. You’re all really amazing dads.”

Jaehyun chuckles, shaking his hand still holding your chin a little. “Don’t you miss our days of doting on you? Spoilt baby.” He flips things back over, sweeping your hands up over your head, pinning your wrists against the mattress. “Want me to spoil you again, princess?”

Warmth blooms through you, tingling down to your fingertips and toes as Jaehyun looks at you and talks to you like that. His hand dives under your shirt, pushing it higher up your chest until your bra is exposed; one flick of his wrist and the nursing bra you’re wearing falls apart, and your breasts are freed for him.

“Jaehyun, please.” Your breathy whine does exactly what you want.

Jaehyun, with one hand still pinning your wrists above your head, lowers his mouth to your breast. His other hand dips inside the shorts you’re wearing, inside your panties too. You gasp and arch into his touch as he grazes your clit. So enamored are you by the things he’s making you feel, that you don’t notice at first when he removes his hand from your wrist. It’s only as you feel your shorts and panties being tugged down that you realize your hands are free, but you leave them together above your head as Jaehyun pulls his mouth from you and shimmies your shorts away.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy.” Jaehyun sinks down low, lying on his belly between your legs. His hands press against your thighs, getting you to spread open a little farther. He leans up to kiss your belly just below your navel, right where the butterflies are going wild in your gut.

Sure, Xiaojun ate you out when you had sex with him, and you’ve fucked a couple of the others since that, but you haven’t had Jaehyun’s tongue on you in what feels like ages. Definitely for several months. So seeing him between your legs like this has really stirred you up, and you can feel yourself dripping more just thinking about his tongue and sweet lips on your pussy.

“Gonna make you cum until you can’t take anymore.” Jaehyun murmurs, kissing lower, his breath fanning over your wetness. “I love spoiling you, baby. Just let me know if it gets to be too much.”

And then there he is, fingers spreading your labia apart to give him direct access to suck your clit between his lips. You can’t stand how well Jaehyun knows you, how he knows exactly every move to make right now to get you to cum quickest. He buries his face against you, eating you out with such intensity and devotion that you’re lightheaded even before your first orgasm crashes over you. And it doesn’t stop there. Waves of pleasure as Jaehyun keeps licking your pussy, fucking you with his tongue, making vibrations to carry you through it by moaning as you drip on his tongue.

When Jaehyun sharply sucks your clit back into his mouth after that second orgasm, you squeeze your thighs around his head, and you whine, “Too much, Jae. Back off.”

He does slowly pull himself up onto his knees, lifting a hand to drag it back across his mouth, though he still licks his lips again.

“Good, princess? You only came twice. Don’t you want more?” As he shifts a little, you notice the tent in the front of his sweatpants. Immediately you want to offer to jerk him off or blow him, but you know that Jaehyun is just as likely to turn that down, to go shower and take care of himself instead, so you entice him the only way that you know for certain will have him staying.

You spreak your legs apart again. “I’m not finished. I want you inside me. Told you I want to have your baby too, didn’t I?”

“Stop. This is about you. Not me.” Jaehyun says, but he’s already got a hand on your hip, is already rolling you onto your belly. “Want to get on your knees, precious?”

You lift your ass up, cheek still against the bed, and Jaehyun slicks his fingers against your pussy, giving you just his fingertips before they disappear again, his fingers damp on your hips instead. You bite your lip to hold in the pathetic whimper that you almost made as you grind back against his fingers, pressing back until you feel the soft material covering his thighs bumping against your bare skin. His erection fits against your ass.

“Ah, shit.” Jaehyun moans, his hips pushing forward involuntarily.

“I need you, Jaehyun. I’ve missed your cock. It’s been so long since I had you inside me, remember?” You’re sure you’re creating a damp spot on the front of his pants, continuing to grind back against his erection. “Please fuck me, Jae. Please, Daddy?”

Jaehyun’s not always big on the daddy kink thing. That’s mostly Kun, occasionally Doyoung when he’s really feeling it. But from time to time, you’ve called Jaehyun daddy, and he’s loved it. Just as he does now.

You can feel him fumbling quickly with his pants, pushing them down around his thighs, his hands going back to your ass, thumbs spreading your cheeks so he can see as his desperately hard cock presses against your entrance and then as he pushes inside.

Jaehyun moans, swearing and sounding so lovely as he feels your warm vagina around him for the first time since the beginning of the year, like eight months almost. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good around me.”

“Yeah, Daddy?” You turn your head to the side, trying to get a look at Jaehyun’s face. “You missed my pussy?”

“Haven’t we all?” His hands slip from your ass to your hips, holding tightly as he starts thrusting into you. “Heard you keep telling most of them no when they come drooling after you, baby. Waiting for someone special? Only want Daddy’s cock to fill you up?”

He’s mostly right. Ever since Xiaojun, you’ve messed around with several of them. Johnny had come to you begging for attention as the one handjob you’d given him had been distracted and hurried. Kun and you had had a quick roll around the other morning, which ended with his fingers inside you and your hand down his pants. There was the moment when Jungwoo had sat there watching you try to nurse Mei, but when it turned out that she wasn’t hungry although your tits were hurting with the need to get the milk out, and he’d eagerly volunteered to help you with that instead of you having to sit there with the breast pump which was just annoying to have to deal with. You’d sat in his lap with his face buried against your tits, and after he’d had his fill, looking dazed and horny, you laid back on the bed for him so he could jerk off over your chest before licking it clean again.

For the most part, you’ve not engaged in actual penetrative sex with any of the guys since Xiaojun, but a couple weeks after that, you did share a single glass of wine with Doyoung, and it went straight to your head, making you feel all giddy and buzzy, so when Doyoung got you to your feet to go bed, you’d dragged him into a kiss. The kiss also went straight to your head, pulling and tugging Doyoung all the way into your bedroom with you, through the bathroom door, into the shower. It felt so good to have him in you again, moving against you, pinning you against the cool tile wall of the shower, water racing down your bodies and streaming between your lips as you kissed.

You’d had sex with Yuta too, convincing him to stay in bed with you one morning. He’d woken hard, your name on his lips, and as soon as he realized, Yuta hurried to climb from bed, to go take care of it himself, but you’d caught his arm and asked him to stay. Yuta was worried about hurting you, concerned about Mei in the corner. But she was already gone as it was actually quite late in the morning. You’d already fed her, and Taeil had taken her downstairs when he left your room. So you welcome Yuta into you, and he’s not normally so tender and romantic in bed. You know him better by the rough passion, each time normally touching on one of his kinks, but this time had been sweet and gentle, taking you apart second by second until you unraveled beneath him. He’d left afterwards, pressing a kiss to your forehead and promising he’d be back with breakfast in bed.

 But, Jaehyun was mostly right about you waiting for his cock. The few times you’ve had sex again, none of them had cum inside of you for one reason or another, and you know that if you tell him that now, it’ll really satisfy Jaehyun’s jealousy and his breeding kink, thinking that he’s the only one allowed to cum in you now.

“Waiting for you, Daddy,” you moan, gasping for breath as his tip drags right against your G spot. “Been waiting for your cum. Please, Jaehyun.”

“Of course, baby. I’ll give it to you.” He thrusts in deep, reaches a hand up to tangle his fingers in your hair so he can pull you up from where your face has been planted against the mattress.

Now, you know that you’ve not been trying to hold your moans in much, and Jaehyun’s definitely not being quiet either, so you’re not too surprised when your eyes open as Jaehyun tugs on your hair, and you see that all of these sounds have drawn some attention.

Johnny and Mark stand watching in the doorway.

No orgies, your doctor’s voice echoes in your mind. She’d been joking, you know that, but right now, you don’t care about how serious or not she’d been. You just want. You don’t think you can handle three of them—sure, you’ve had more and worse before than just three at once, but it’s been a long time, and your body would definitely not be up to it, already after just the two orgasms back-to-back that Jaehyun gave you, you were feeling it. You can take maybe one or two more, but not more than that.

“Jae, please,” you moan, throwing your head back so you can see his face. “Please.”

He glances over at the two in the doorway. He jerks his head, and Mark and Johnny come closer. Mark’s gaze is fixed on Jaehyun’s cock disappearing inside you. Johnny’s watching the way Jaehyun’s fingers are knotted in your hair.

“Are you finally giving her the treat she deserves, Jae?” Johnny asks as he joins you on the bed, kneeling in front of you. “How does she feel?”

“Sweet.” Jaehyun’s hand winds tighter in your hair, drawing you up more until your back is pressed to his chest, and his lips brush your throat. “Our baby girl feels so sweet. Tastes sweet too.” His tongue swipes quickly at your skin.

Johnny starts touching you too; a hand between your legs to rub at your clit, another raised up to tweak one of your nipples. And when he leans in, his lips touching the other side of your neck from Jaehyun’s lips, you lose control of yourself.

You keen at the attention being laved on you, an orgasm rocking through you.

Jaehyun’s teeth close down on your sensitive skin. Johnny chuckles, continuing to rub your clit and kiss your neck as you keep shaking, your body too overstimulated now on your third orgasm, pressed between two boyfriends with them still touching you.

“Oh my God, it’s too much,” you moan, shaking. “Jaehyun, Johnny.”

“Guys.” For the first time since entering the room, Mark speaks. “Back off, look at her.”

It’s a lot but you’re still fine. It’s not more than you can handle, though you appreciate Mark’s concern. But you don’t appreciate when Johnny pulls away, when Jaehyun stops thrusting toward his own orgasm.

You shake your head. “No, keep going.” You reach back, fingernails digging into Jaehyun’s hip. “Please, Jaehyun, I told you I want you to cum in me. Keep going. I need it.”

“Love when you beg for it.” Jaehyun picks back up where he left off, chasing his orgasm, and it’s only another few moments before he’s cumming, the long-awaited heat of his orgasm spilling inside you. “Mmmh,” Jaehyun moans, “now you’re all mine, baby. Gonna give Mei a little sister or brother, right?” He kisses your neck and you shoulder, and as he pulls his hips back from yours, you can turn around in his arms, and he kisses you on the lips.

“Come on, when’s my turn?” Johnny asks, his voice teasing, his hands reaching for your hips. “I’ve missed you too.”

You break the kiss with Jaehyun, twisting around somewhat uncomfortably to bat Johnny’s hands away. “I can’t, Johnny. It’s already been too much, too quick. I shouldn’t have even done that much probably.” It’s not like that sex had been too wild or anything at all, just a bit rougher than the others have been since you were cleared for sex again, but you can already feel a dull ache setting into those muscles.

Johnny sighs and leans back against your pillows. You can see the bulge in the front of his pants, and it hurts you to know how much he wants you, to know that the most you can offer him right now is another handjob or a blowjob, but not what he wants. He looks at you for a long moment, considering, and then he sits up, pushes himself off the bed, and walks out the door.

You sink back against Jaehyun, and he wraps his arms around you. Mark’s still standing there, looking after Johnny, but as the door swings shut, Mark looks back at you and Jaehyun. You groan, reaching down to dip your fingers between your legs, the cum dripping out of you now. “I feel so gross now.”

Jaehyun lets go of you, flopping down onto his back, eyes fluttering shut. “We should take a nap. Mark, you joining?”

There’s just barely enough room for three people on your bed, but it doesn’t matter, because Mark shakes his head. “But if you feel gross, how does a bath sound?”

You nod.

Jaehyun makes a little noise, stretching out an arm to lay it over your lap possessively, keeping you there in bed with him.

Mark rolls his eyes a little. “You can join us, Jaehyun. That tub might be big enough to fit the three of us and your jealousy.”

Jaehyun opens his mouth to retort, but you quickly cover his mouth with your hand. “Let’s not argue. Let’s just relax with a soak in the bath, then we can go see what WinWin and Mei are up to.”

After Mark steps out to go run the bath, Jaehyun moves his arm away.

He’s lying there stark naked, not trying to cover up at all, and you once more find your gaze drawing attentively and appreciatively over his form from head to toe. But as you return to looking at his face, you find that he’s watching you, smiling and blushing ever-so-slightly.

“Enjoying the view?”

You reach over, pinching lightly one of his nipples. “Shut up. You know you’re handsome. I don’t need to tell you that. And also, you don’t need to act so jealously possessive when Mark offers me a bath, like you just fucked me so good, Jaehyun. If I thought I could’ve handled more I would have gladly begged you to keep going, would’ve let Johnny and Mark too.” You lean down so your face is right above his. Jaehyun blinks slowly, dazed by your sudden proximity, and he makes a soft pleasant humming sound when you kiss him. “Only would’ve let you cum in me, though,” you promise him.

Jaehyun grins, resting his hand against the back of your head as he brings you back down into another, longer kiss.

You’re still kissing when Mark pops his head out of the bathroom to tell you the bath is ready.

“Coming?” You ask Jaehyun.

He shakes his head, watching you slip off the bed. “Think I’ll go steal Mei from whoever’s got her. Maybe I’ll just go take a nap.” But he’s still in your bed when you close the bathroom door behind you.

The tub swirls with steam and bubbles, the air scented with vanilla. Mark’s already soaking in the tub, but he opens his eyes as you ease a foot into the water. “Where’s Jaehyun?” He asks, his eyes following each inch of your skin that sinks beneath the bubbles.

“Decided to go bother whoever has Mei.” You sigh as the bubbles brush your chin, the warm water enveloping you, already working magic to relax that ache you’re feeling. “This feels so nice.”

“It does.” Mark’s hand brushes your arm beneath the water, circling around so he can pull you closer and closer until you’re sitting with your back to his chest.

“This is nicer,” you sigh, leaning you head back as Mark kisses the side of your head. “Relaxing.”

His hand slides down to yours, twisting your fingers together underwater. You rest your head on his shoulder, his head rests against yours, and you let your eyes close, feeling safe and good, all wrapped up in warmth and Mark.

After a few moments, he starts humming, playing with your fingers. He brings your intertwined hands up out of the water, and you smile to yourself. Mark rubs his thumb back and forth and back and forth and again and again at the base of your third finger until you finally open your eyes, turn your head slightly, and you ask, “What are you doing?”

“Just thinking,” Mark answers. “Remembering the night I proposed to you, how quickly you shot me down.” He kisses your head, then says, “I still want to marry you, by the way. I know things have been.... a little different since Mei. I know she’s not mine, so proposing like I did back then was maybe a little silly, but it doesn’t change how I feel about you at all. I still love you as wildly as I have done since I met you and even more. I know that you would probably shoot me down in a heartbeat again if I tried to propose, but I’m just thinking about how I would still gladly spend forever with you and Mei.”

Mark lifts your hand up, kissing right there at the base of your finger where a ring would sit if you’d said yes to him.

Mei’s giggles quickly become your favorite sound in the universe. She giggles when Miso comes up to snuggle beside her. She giggles when her dads or the other guys play with her. She giggles when you talk to her in silly voices or when you blow raspberries on her belly. She smiles and makes babbling noises, such a happy baby.

“Mei-mei!” Ten coos, lifting her up. “How’s the happy little princess today?” He scrunches his nose at her adorably.

“She’s been fussy today, actually.” You’ve had her lying on a blanket on the floor in the living room while you sit nearby and fold laundry, and she’s been making little crying noises for the better part of an hour, but every time you’ve checked her diaper she’s been dry, and she’s not hungry either. You’ve tried holding her and talking to her, giving her her favorite new toy. Nothing had worked until you put YouTube on the TV and started playing videos of the guys—music videos, interviews, reality shows, videos from their channels.

They’ve all been gone all day. The 127 members, the Dreamies, and WayV were all out, and you don’t know the last time you were in the house without any of them, or if you’ve ever been there without them. It was strange, and maybe that’s what Mei had been picking up on. And now Ten’s the first one back.

“She seems good now.” Ten sits down on the sofa, sitting Mei back against his chest. She’s making little happy sounds, which only turn to giggles when Ten takes her hands and starts clapping them together between his. That entertains her for another minute or two before she starts getting whiny again.

Ten watches in surprise as you start playing one of WayV’s videos and Mei immediately calms down, her eyes watching the TV screen, transfixed.

“Honestly, I think she wants WinWin.” You sigh, folding the last of the clothes and sitting it on top of the neat pile you’ve made. “She’s only four months old, and already such a Daddy’s girl. I swear she already has some idea of the time he normally comes home, because she just starts to get so excited and looks at the door. And watch, when he starts talking.” You point at the video, and as WinWin appears and starts talking Mei makes such happy sounds.

Ten laughs. “Is it just him she does that for?”

You shrug. “Sometimes Jaehyun. I think it’s because they’re the ones always stealing her from everyone else. You know how possessive they both are of her.”

“And of you.” Ten bounces Mei a little in his lap. She’s got her hand shoved into her mouth, drooling around it, and Ten just watches her do it with amusement. “Johnny came to me a few days ago, complaining that you’d left him on the edge again. Something about Jaehyun calling you about Mei, interrupting what you were doing, then you left him like that?”

You groan. You know exactly what he’s talking about. A few days ago, Jaehyun had happily volunteered to babysit Mei to give you just a few hours to yourself to relax. That relaxing had consisted of you going to get a wax (just because Doyoung had eaten you out and afterwards commented that he missed the times when you would be so smooth down there) and a massage and a trim for your hair too. And when you got home, Jaehyun wasn’t finished having quality Mei time (a nap side-by-side on the floor; it was adorable and you snapped quite a few photos of them), so you climbed up the stairs to your bedroom, but before you went inside, Johnny had peered out of his room, saw the glowing happy state of you, and invited you inside.

You’d been excited to show off to him how soft and smooth you looked, and Johnny had been equally as excited to get to experience it. So he’d laid you back on his bed, touching and stroking you until your belly was on fire with lust, your pussy dripping, mind going fuzzy with just how much you needed Johnny to make you cum. He’d taken photos too, a few small video snippets as well, sending them into your groupchat with your boyfriends to show each of them what they were missing out on, and as he teased you with light brushes of his fingers over your clit, Johnny had read out the responses of what the others were saying.

By the time that Johnny was finally inside you, his big cock feeling so good, and his warm arms and body surrounding you, making you lowkey lose your mind at the all-encompassing feeling of Johnny Suh, you’d forgotten about everything but him.

Until there was a frantic knock on the door.

Both of you ignored it. Lips locked together, Johnny’s hips knocking you higher up the bed with your hand braced against the headboard to keep from ramming into it.

It took another few harried knocks on the door before Johnny grunted a clearly annoyed, “What?”

“It’s Mei,” Jaehyun said from outside the door. “She woke up crying and she feels a little warm, maybe feverish. Sorry to interrupt, but I don’t—“

He didn’t even get the chance to say anything else before you were shoving Johnny away from you, pulling clothes on that weren’t even yours, and you were out the door. Mei had been fine; it wasn’t a fever or anything, she was just a little warm and hungry, and by the time you got that sorted, you couldn’t even find Johnny to finish things off.

In the back of your mind, at the time, you had wondered if Jaehyun had just fibbed about Mei feeling feverish just to break up what was going on with you and Johnny. If he’d seen the photos and videos in the chat, if his jealousy had overwhelmed him enough to make up any excuse to get it to stop. You’d convinced yourself that that was ridiculous; Jaehyun seemed genuinely concerned that Mei might be sick.

But right now, Ten looks at you like he believes Jaehyun had done exactly what you were suspicious of.

“I thought Mei was sick, so I had to go take care of her, Ten.” You push to your feet, coming over to offer your hands to your daughter. She babbles excitedly as Ten hands her over to you. “It’s not like I could tell Jaehyun to just go watch her, make sure she didn’t get too high of a temperature while I stayed to finish Johnny off. And by the time I’d settled her down, I couldn’t find Johnny anywhere to pick back up or to even apologize.”

Ten nods. “Yeah, he was with me. Don’t worry. I took good care of him.” He grins mischievously. “But afterwards we were talking, and he said that kind of thing has been happening a lot. Him feeling left behind or left out. I think you two should talk.”

You think he’s right.

It’s hours later when Johnny gets home. Mei’s asleep upstairs; you’ve got the baby monitor beside you at the table while Chenle and Jisung argue over who gets the last ramen cup in the cabinet. Jungwoo, Mark, and Sungchan are playing video games together in the living room with Yuta and Taeil calling out advice and commentary from where they’re watching. You feel at peace again with the house back to normal, loud and busy and relatively chaotic.

Yuta greets Johnny as he walks through the door, and as he passes the doorway into the kitchen, you call his name. He passes by then backs up, pulling out a headphone. “Did you say my name?”

You nod. “Can I talk to you?”

Johnny pulls his headphones out of his ears, tucking them away in his pocket. “Of course.”

Yuta strides into the kitchen then, bypassing the two youngest members of the group who are now standing at the fridge together, and before either of them notice, he steals the ramen they’d been arguing over. You shake your head at him, and he just smiles.

“Yuta, can you take this.” You hand him the baby monitor. “Just keep an ear on it for Mei, please?”

Yuta glances between the baby monitor and your face and Johnny’s. Something clicks in his eyes, and his smile turns more suggestive. “Ah, alright. I’ve got our little angel. You two have fun.” He accepts the monitor, and walks back out of the room with the steaming ramen in the other hand.

Johnny follows you as you walk outside into their small yard. It’s deep night outside, quiet but the air still buzzes with the nature sounds of insects and the wind. It rustles your hair as you sit down on the bench, Johnny settling down beside you.

“What’s up?” He asks. You notice the way that he reaches down to the knee of his jeans, fiddling with the frayed hole there.

“I was talking with Ten earlier,” you say, “and he told me that last week when I skipped out on you, you went to him instead.”

Johnny nods. “Yeah, like, you don’t have a problem with that, right? Kun and Taeyong still fuck around with him too.”

“I know. I’m fine with that. But, Johnny, Ten said that you’re feeling left out in this relationship lately, and that’s what I want to talk about.” You reach over, laying your hand over his on his knee. “Why do you feel that way?”

Johnny’s quiet for a few seconds, looking at your hand on his, and then he lets out a short, sarcastic laugh. “I mean, it’s not a ridiculous way to feel right now, is it? Not baseless? I can count on one hand the number of times that I’ve had your wholly undivided attention, uninterrupted by someone else within the last, like, five months almost.”

“You mean since Mei was born?” You withdraw your hand. “Johnny, I’m sorry you feel that way, but you know I can’t just ignore my daughter, right? If she needs me, I have to go, because I’m her mother and that’s my responsibility.”

“Of course I get that. I know that you need to take care of her. It’s just fucking annoying when you leave me in the middle of something sexual.” Johnny argues, “Like, that time you gave me a handjob, and you definitely would’ve just left if I didn’t beg you to finish me off, and even then you did it so quick then just left. And when Jaehyun was fucking you, me and Mark walked in, got me so hard and then just told me to leave pretty much. Then there was the other day. And I get it, Mei needed you, but it just pissed me off that Jae interrupted, especially since it turned out that she was fine.”

You don’t know what to say. Those examples he gave you, two of those times it was because your daughter needed you, and the other time your body literally couldn’t take any more so there was nothing you could have done for him.

“And it just seems like you never have time for me anymore. There’s the sex stuff, but also, even when we’re together just talking or watching a movie or whatever it may be, I just feel like you’re not there with me. Like you’re thinking about something else, not listening to me or wanting to be there.” Johnny tilts his head back and looks up at the sky. “I love you, I really do, but lately it’s just felt like maybe I shouldn’t be here anymore. I want someone I can go have fun with and not have to worry about leaving me at a moment’s notice.”

“Well, I’m a mother, Johnny. That’s going to happen.” You tell him. “She comes first; she always will.”

“I know.” Johnny folds his arms in front of his chest. “So maybe we should end this. I thought that I was ready for a relationship like this, but now with all things considered – the other guys and Mei and everything – I think it’s too serious and too complex for me to be happy trying to keep doing this. Your attention is split too many different ways, and I hate ending it, because like I said, I do love you. But I... I just think that maybe we want different things.”

You look down at your hands, willing the tears not to flow, but you can already feel the hot tingle behind your eyes, the tightening in your throat. “You wanted a baby, Johnny. Do you remember that? We talked about it before I was pregnant. Hell, we talked about it while I was pregnant, when you were coming to the appointments with me, meeting my parents. You remember that, right? But now you’re saying that you can’t deal with having my attention split between you and her?”

“That’s not it.” Johnny’s voice drops low, offended and defensive as he says, “Not entirely. If it was just that, just split between me and Mei, I could handle that. But it’s the fact that you’re in love with all of us, that you’re dating all of us. That’s what I can’t deal with. You get that, right?”

You hate to admit it, but you do get it. This moment is strangely similar to when you and Lucas broke up. He had other reasons, mostly his growing feelings for Chaerin, but he also told you that one of the reasons was that he felt that your attention was too divided.

“I get it,” you agree. But you can’t bring yourself to look at Johnny.

“Are you mad at me?” Johnny asks after a few silent moments.

You bite your cheek, blink away the tears, and then you say, “Well, it’s not like I’m jumping for joy or anything over here. But I get it. I don’t like it, but not many people do like being broken up with.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes again. His hand rests briefly on your shoulder, and then he’s gone, leaving just the heat behind from his hand.

Kun’s the one that finds you a while later. You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting out there, but the light in the kitchen has gone out when you hear the door.

“There you are.” Kun steps out, closing the door behind him to come sit beside you. “I was starting to get a little worried when I couldn’t find you anywhere inside.” As soon as he sits down Kun wraps his arm around your shoulders, drawing you into his side, and you lean your head down on his shoulder. “I’m guessing that talk with Johnny didn’t go well?”

You start to lift your head, but Kun lays his hand on your hair, pressing you back down. “How did you know about that?” You ask him.

“Ten. He told me that he told you what Johnny had been saying, and that you two needed to talk.” He strokes your hair soothingly. “And when I got home earlier, Yuta had the baby monitor, and when I asked, he said you were out here talking with Johnny.”

“Yeah.” You sigh. It feels like there’s a weight on your chest that won’t go away. You hate this feeling, like maybe if you’d just done something different, maybe you could make everyone in this relationship happy. But as you’ve been thinking about this since Johnny left you out here, the only thing different you could come up with is just choosing one of them from the start; that or not getting pregnant, but you can’t bring yourself to regret that one bit at all.

“What happened? If you want to talk about it?” Kun asks.

You pull your head away from his hand slowly, and Kun moves to let you do so. He makes a little sound as you sink down, resting your head in his lap and taking his hand to bring it back to your hair. The bench is a little hard and uncomfortable to lie on like this, but you don’t really care too much.

“We broke up. I didn’t, like, come out here thinking that’s what was going to happen. I thought we’d just talk, come up with a compromise or something, and then go back inside happily.” You close your eyes tight. “But Johnny thinks that I’m juggling too many people in this relationship, that I don’t have enough time and attention for all of you, plus being Mei’s mom on top of all of that. And he’s right, I guess. That’s partially why Lucas left me, and I know things have probably gotten worse since I had Mei.”

Kun twirls your hair around one of his fingers. “A little bit, but I thought we all understood that you have to focus on her. We can handle ourselves. But Mei needs you entirely; she’s a baby. And we, or at least I, can see that you’re doing your best to be what all of us need you to be. Aren’t you exhausted?”

You rub your cheek against Kun’s leg, loving the soft feel of his pajama pants against your skin. “A little exhausted.”

“You need a vacation.” Kun suggests. “You barely leave the house, so you need to just get away, get out of the city. Probably get away from all of us.”

A laugh bubbles out of you, and you turn onto your back so you’re looking up at Kun. He’s smiling, eyes glinting in the dim light. “Right, get away from all of you. And what about Mei? Do you think I could leave her here for a week or even a few days? With all of you?” You laugh again. “I love all of you, and I know most of you are good with her, but really, Kun? If you want me to relax, leaving my daughter here in this house without me would almost be as bad as leaving her in a fraternity house.”

Kun frowns. “We’re not that bad.”

You lift a hand up to touch his cheek. “No, you’re not. I know I can trust a couple of you with her, but I still couldn’t leave her.”

The longest you’ve been away from Mei is about four hours, and even then, she was only about twenty minutes away from you. What Kun’s suggesting, leaving the city for a getaway would last much longer and put your farther away from her than you’ve ever been before.

“Take her with you, then.” Kun turns his head, brushing his lips to your hand. “You, her, WinWin. Take a little family trip. He should have a few free days coming up on his schedule. And don’t mind anyone getting jealous about it if you take WinWin with you. He’s her dad. I think the three of you deserve some quality time together.”

It does all sound like a very tempting idea, so you keep that little idea wrapped up nicely in your mind for a few days, coming back to it again and again every time that a stressor pops up in your life. Like when you bump into Johnny and his expression shifts into something that’s a combination of sadness and concern and apology. After the third time of that happening, you decide maybe taking some time away from the house would be a good thing.

You bring it up to WinWin on a Tuesday morning.

He’s just woken up, rolled out of bed, and strolled upstairs into your bedroom. His hair’s still a wild mess, standing up in various direction, and looking especially silly because of the recent dyeing it had. You laugh and reach up to smooth it down as he flops down into your bed, dragging the sheets up. Miso hisses as the sudden sheet movement disrupts him bathing himself at the foot of the bed, and he stalks off, his tail held high, looking back once before he disappears out the door to give WinWin a disgruntled look.

“I want to go back to sleep,” he mumbles into your pillow. “But Hendery wouldn’t stop being loud. I get that he isn’t the one who had a schedule running into early this morning, but come on? Being awake this early?” WinWin smashes his face into your pillow, pulls the blanket up over his head entirely, and falls silent.

“You have a few days cleared on your schedule soon, right?” You lift the edge of the blanket so he can breathe. The lump under the blanket moves to signal a yes. “Do you want to get away and relax with me somewhere that’s not here?”

WinWin emerges from the blanket, squinting against the light. “What?”

“Kun suggested it the other night. He thinks you, me, and Mei should get away. Well, initially he just said me, but when I laughed about leaving Mei here in this house alone with all of you, he amended it to include you and her too.” You quickly reach up, trying to push his hair flat again, unsuccessfully. “What do you think?”

WinWin nods. “Sounds good to me.”

And three days later, you and WinWin pack up Mei and a weekend bag, and drive away to a beach a few hours away. You’re not there necessarily for the beach—after all Mei is only a few months old and you definitely don’t want to expose her to the sun or to the heat for too long—though it does make a very pretty view from the window of your hotel room. The pretty blue water lapping against the beach below makes you pause at the window, holding Mei who also looks out at the water transfixed (or maybe she just sees her reflection in the window and wonders who that other baby is), pressing her little handprints to the glass.

“Do you remember the last time we came to the beach?” WinWin asks, sneaking up behind you. He drops a quick kiss to your cheek, then brings a hand up to cradle Mei’s head.

“Mhmm.” You hum, and Mei waves a hand at the window, fingers leaving streaks on the glass. “I’m pretty sure last time we came to the beach is probably when we made her.” You stroke her soft cheek. “That was such a good day.”

WinWin laughs, and Mei turns her head to look up at him with her sparkly dark eyes. “I remember that day, like, I was joking around with Taeyong and Hendery, and then I looked over at you and Dejun sitting on the end of that dock. You were just sunbathing, and then the next time I looked over you were making out, straddling him, God, it was really sexy. I never pegged him as being the type to mess around in public like that, but neither was I really until right then. I still can’t believe we did that out in broad daylight where anyone could’ve seen us. Do you really think that’s the time that we made her?”

You shrug. “Probably. That’s definitely around the time that she was conceived. And Mei’s our little sea star. She loves her baths, and when I play white noise to help her sleep, the ocean waves are her favorite. Of course, that could all be a coincidence.”

WinWin smiles as Mei starts making nonsensical babbling sounds, kicking her legs as she looks back out the window at the beach and the people milling around in the sand. “We really did something good, didn’t we? Making her.”

“Absolutely.” She certainly wasn’t planned, but you don’t regret one thing about it. You and WinWin talk about this semi-regularly, both of you just absolutely enchanted watching your daughter exist, amazed that she’s the product of both of you. “And to think you almost didn’t come with us to the beach that day.”

WinWin shakes his head. “I don’t want to think about that. Mei-mei, you want daddy to hold you?” He repeats it in Mandarin, and as he says her full name Mingmei, she lifts her arms to him, so you pass her over. WinWin cuddles her, continuing to speak to her quietly as she gazes up at his face and clings tightly to one of his fingers.

It’s the next day when the three of you go down to the beach early on in the day, before the sun’s really beaming down, but nevertheless you’ve slathered Mei with some baby-safe sunscreen, you have a little adorable hat on her head shielding her from the weak sun rays. It’s not really warm enough to get in the water, but it’s nice enough that you and WinWin can sit on the sand for a while, put Mei’s toes in the sand, and eventually you carry her to the water’s edge and hold her right there, her little feet curl up as a cool wave washes over them.

“Does she not like it?” WinWin asks, chuckling as Mei lets out a sad little cry just once.

“You’re not too sure about that are you, Mei?” You laugh. She puts her feet back down after a minute, just to have another wave crash nearby, racing thinly over the sand, covering her feet. She watches the water carefully, and the next time it happens she giggles, quickly adapting to the strangeness of the water.

You don’t spend all day at the beach. There’s a temple nearby up atop a tall hill, so you put on a baby carrier strapped to your chest, fit Mei snugly in it, and you and WinWin go exploring with Mei along for the ride. It’s a nice walk, pretty out, and as you follow a path along the seaside, the breeze blows salty spray up at your faces. Once you’ve reached the peak of the hill, Mei is ready to be free of the prison you’ve got her strapped into on your chest, ready to be set free and held by her dad.

It’s breezy and cool, relaxing here atop the hill, looking down at the waves below. There aren’t too many people up here, so you decide to take a seat on one of the benches overlooking the sea, unpacking a little picnic.

WinWin sits across from you on the bench, both of you facing each other, and he holds Mei in his lap, her sitting up against his chest, waving her hands excitedly as you pull out a bottle you’ve kept chilled with your food. When you try to get her into your arms so you can feed her with the bottle, Mei just whines in protest, clearly wanting to stay with her dad.

WinWin, to be fair, tries his best to not grin in victory as you hand the bottle over to him so he can feed her.

“You know I carried you for nine months, right?” You tell her. “But he’s your favorite?”

WinWin just laughs, and as you watch him laughing and smiling, feeding your daughter, you fully understand why he’s her favorite. Why wouldn’t he be?

You take photos of them together, sweet snapshots of memory as the day goes on. WinWin feeding her, him holding her on his shoulders (you were both surprised and pleased just a few days before as she’d sat upright so well by herself), and even a photo of them looking out at the water with their faces side-by-side as WinWin talked to her in a gentle voice. But as the day goes on Mei starts to grow sleepy and fussy, crying loud enough that heads in the crowd turn to look, so you decide to go back to the hotel.

You sit out on the balcony together, the door cracked open behind you so you can hear if Mei starts crying inside. WinWin stands against the railing, and you stand beside him, your head on his shoulder.

“This is nice.” He sighs. “I don’t get many vacations, not many trips where I can just get away from all the cameras and everything.”

“Nice to get to relax some, isn’t it?” You turn your head and kiss his shoulder. “At least one good thing’s come out of Johnny and I breaking up.”

WinWin makes a soft sound of agreement. “We all knew this wasn’t going to be easy. From the start, we’ve all known that we couldn’t all stay here, doing this with you. I remember after we all found out that Doyoung had kissed you, we thought that was going to be the end, that you’d chosen him. But then a few days later Taeyong was bragging you’d kissed him. For a long time, this didn’t seem, like, real—that you chose all of us, that we were doing a relationship like this, and even when I finally realized that this was happening.... I definitely didn’t think that we’d end up here.”

“What, you didn’t imagine that all of our fun and fucking would lead to Mei?” You glance back over your shoulder. She’s asleep in a little portable playpen in a clear line of sight to you.

“Something like that.” WinWin’s voice sounds strange, and it’s only when he brushes your hair back behind your ear that you look up at him. “I love you. I’m so glad that we have Mei, even if the circumstances were kinda unconventional. But you’re happy, aren’t you? With Mei, with me?”

The longing in his voice, in his touch, warms your heart, and you lean in to his touch. “I am happy, Sicheng.”

You tilt your head to look him in the eye, and then he’s leaned in and is kissing you. The kiss is soft, tender, filled with every ounce of that longing that you’d just heard in his voice. You feel positively light and warm, so you let him guide you back inside. The balcony door slides shut behind you both, and you move past the playpen where Mei sleeps soundly, back into the bedroom. You let him peel your clothes away, kissing down your neck and shoulders and chest.

“You smell like coconut,” he murmurs as he kisses down your body, nose skimming between your breasts. “Mmm, love it.”

It’s like you’re drunk on the sun-warm heat of WinWin, the summer smell of sunshine in his hair when he’s kissing you on the lips again, the way that having him inside you and all around you makes you forget that it’s the tail end of summer and not the highest hottest part. You feel so good as WinWin makes love to you, both of you fallen into this high, dreamy haze together.

Even in the aftermath, sweaty and sticky skin pressed together, you can’t get enough of kissing him, his body still tucked between your legs, your fingers tangled in his hair as he lays against your chest.

“Mmm, god,” WinWin moans softly, kissing softly beneath your jaw, down the side of your throat, and retracing his steps to your lips. You smile into the kiss, giggling a bit as the way that his fingers brush over your ribs tickles. WinWin smiles, kisses you once again, and then leans up, breaking the kiss. He just looks down at you, and as you blink your eyes open, WinWin says, “Marry me?”

“What?” You trail your fingers over his miles of exposed skin. “Like, right now?”

He shrugs. “Whenever. I love you, and we have Mei, and I just want to marry you.” He kisses you again, but you put a hand to his shoulder, pressing him back.

“Dong Sicheng, are you serious?”

The warm glow pulses all around you, threatening to collapse or explode. The idea of what he’s proposing—marriage to him, a future with him as your husband and Mei’s father—it excites you, but terrifies you in equal measure. If you say yes to him, then what about the others? It’d be like a slap in the face. You love WinWin, of course you do, but you love them too.

You think of Mark, his underprepared proposal nearly a year ago, the hurt in his eyes when you’d told him no, but the persistent hope and love, the soft way that he traces a line around your ring finger when he holds your hand. You think of Jaehyun, a man so full of love and jealousy. You think of Taeil who looks at Mei as if maybe she could really be his daughter. You think of all of them.

“I am.” WinWin sits up, breaking contact with you, and the cool air floods in against your skin. “I want to marry you, but I know that you’re not going to tell me yes. Not now, anyway. But I just thought I should put that intention out there, let you know where I see this relationship going. I don’t expect you to actually tell me yes, so don’t worry your pretty head about it too much. Okay?”

He leans in, kisses your forehead, and then he’s slipping away, dragging his shorts back up, and he’s out of the room before you have the chance to say anything.

The rest of the vacation is very nice and relaxing, even after the slight awkwardness following WinWin’s proposal. Nevertheless, by the time you’re returning to Seoul, walking through the door of the big house with Mei in your arms, her fingers tugging at your hair, you’re pleased to be back.

The warmth of the beach faded quickly on the way back to Seoul where a chill has set in as the season turns over to autumn. As soon as you’re inside the house, Jaehyun, Taeil, and Taeyong are there, cooing at Mei, offering to take her from you. She goes easily into Taeyong’s arms, and he sweeps her away, playing with her and talking at her in a sweet baby voice.

Xiaojun’s there when you go back outside to help WinWin bring in the bags, and he pulls you quickly into a hug, tucking his face into your shoulder. You wrap your arms back around him, squeezing tightly.

Your reunion with most of your boyfriends goes as such, a warm hug, a murmured “I missed you,” a passionate kiss that gets booed and noises of disgust made at it. The last reunion is with Jungwoo as he gets home late from a schedule and comes into your room to use your shower, then crawls into bed with you and Mark, snuggling in between both of you.

“Where’s Mei?” He asks, casting one leg over yours, slinging an arm over Mark.

“Jaehyun and Doyoung are hoarding her,” Mark mumbles, pushing Jungwoo’s arm away. “How did the photoshoot go today?”

“Fine.” Jungwoo sighs, turning over so he’s on his back instead of his stomach. “They really liked Shotaro.”

You look at him, at the ever-so-slight downturn of his lips. “I’m sure they loved you too, Jungwoo. Like, yeah, Shotaro’s a cutie, but you....” You bite your lip and give him a once-over. “Very sexy. Sex appeal sells more than cuteness, you know. I know for sure your fans will buy up anything that’s got you looking sexy on the cover.” He’d looked so stunning when he walked into your room, his hair and makeup still done up from the shoot, and right now it’s all gone, but he is stretched out in your bed wearing only the towel around his waist.  

Maybe you reach out to touch him then, unable to hold yourself back when he’s lying there looking so tempting.

Jungwoo laughs at the ridiculously horny look you’re giving him. “Didn’t WinWin give you any sex while you were away? You haven’t looked this needy since before Mei, probably.”

“We did have sex. Several times. Should I tell you about them?” You can’t help it if you’re horny. Maybe that’s a good sign that your body is returning to how it was before the pregnancy, your libido skyrocketing again.

Mark leans up, resting his head on his hand as he watches your hands wander over Jungwoo’s chest, watches the way that Jungwoo’s nipples perk up, the way that Jungwoo bites his lip as you pinch at one of his nipples. You start telling them both about your fun on your little trip, continuing to touch Jungwoo as you do.

Mark just watches and listens, drinking in everything that’s happening. He watches you eventually swing your leg over Jungwoo’s lap, situating yourself right over the bulge that’s risen under the towel. He watches Jungwoo strip you of your shirt and bra; he moans a little as Jungwoo loses the towel and pulls you down, filling you with his cock. Mark moans again as Jungwoo starts touching your boobs, nuzzling against them, and then closing his lips around a nipple as you grind down on his erection. Jungwoo alone of your boyfriends is really into this; the others that tasted your milk thought it was okay or thought it was gross, but Jungwoo just genuinely loves doing this, tasting it on his tongue any chance he gets.

Jungwoo laves all of his attention on one, suckling as you ride him slowly. Then his other hand rises up to your other breast, the one closer to Mark, just massaging, his fingers occasionally tweaking your nipple.

And if Mark makes any sound you don’t hear it, but then he’s right there, head in front of your chest, tongue testing as milk leaks from your nipple while Jungwoo massages. Just as the first time it had been strangely very hot to have a boyfriend breastfeeding from you, so is it now, but multiplied as you’ve got two of them doing this.

As Mark grows more confident, he knocks Jungwoo’s hand away, and Jungwoo drops both of his hands to your hips, encouraging you to ride him faster. Both of them keep their mouths on your breasts even as you start fucking yourself on Jungwoo, feeling your orgasm building, getting closer. And then Mark’s hand slips down to your clit.

The orgasm bursts like a bubble of pleasure popped.

You shudder in their arms, quaking and moaning. Mark pulls his mouth from your tit, licking his lips.

“Good, Mark?” You ask after you catch your breath. You slump forward against Jungwoo. “Did you like that?”

Mark nods, looking a little dazed as if caught off guard by how much he’d liked it. You giggle, reaching to pull him in for a kiss, but just as you do, Jungwoo tips you backwards.

He drags your legs up around his hips, fucking into you now at his own pace, needing his own orgasm after he’s felt you cumming around him. Mark falls down beside you, happily seeking your kiss, swallowing down all of the moans that Jungwoo fucks out of you.

“Mark,” you sigh, “please. Please, let me help you feel good too.” Your hand searches down his body, looking for the spot where his shirt gives way to skin, so you can push your hand inside his shorts. “Mark, mm, please.”

Jungwoo nails a spot inside you that makes your eyes roll with pleasure, your hands grapple at the waistband of Mark’s shorts.

“You want my cock, baby?” Mark rolls away from you, getting off the bed so he can strip off his shirt and shorts, and when his weight next settles beside you, he’s naked, jerking his hand over his cock. “Open up, baby.”

Mark feeds you his cock, thrusting gently at first, his tip bulging your cheek, but you turn your head, breathe through your nose and let your jaw go slack, encouraging him to use your throat.

Neither of them are much for dirty talk, but as Jungwoo’s pace picks up to almost a brutal speed, you hear him start talking to Mark about you. “God, look at her, all open and pretty and wet for us, just a dripping fucktoy for both of us.”

“She’s our pretty slut again,” Mark says, thrusting down your throat, pinching one of your nipples. “Taking two cocks at once. When was the last time you did that, baby?”

It hasn’t been that long, not that you would tell Mark that even if you could right now, but the way that he’s now fucking your face makes it a little difficult to even draw breath, let alone attempt to speak.

Jungwoo cums a moment later, spilling his load inside you, but he keeps thrusting with his thumb on your clit until you experience your second orgasm of the night. He pulls out and leaves you and Mark, not that Mark notices really, too absorbed in fucking your face, feeling you moan and gag around him.

When Mark cums, he pulls back so just his tip is between your lips, and he looks down so he can see your eyes as you suck and flick your tongue over the slit on his tip. His hips just barely press forward, only the shallowest of thrusts between your lips, and he cums over your tongue, and you can feel just a bit of his cum dripping from the corner of your mouth.

Mark moans, swearing in at least two different languages, and after a moment he falls away from you, sinking back into his comfortable spot on the bed from earlier. You sit up, using your thumb to push what you’d spilled back into your mouth. Mark looks up at you as you straddle him, as you lean in to kiss him. He opens his mouth to your kiss, and makes a startled yet aroused sound as you let his cum leak from your mouth into his. But he takes it, kissing you with his cum passed between your mouths. It’s gross and dirty, but it’s something you’ve thought about doing before; you’re just surprised that Mark’s going along with it.

He swallows when you break the kiss, sitting up just a little so you can see his face.

Mark wrinkles his nose adorably. “That was gross. Does it always taste like that?”

You laugh and kiss his cheek. “Usually.”

Jungwoo returns a moment later, looking freshly rinsed clean, and he crawls back into bed with a damp cloth to wipe your face and chest and thighs down.

“Messy girl,” he teases as he watches you wipe between your own legs at where his cum is leaking out.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Mark mumbles, but Jungwoo’s already moving back off the bed, taking the cloth with him back to the bathroom. “Filthy, messy girl. Spitting my cum back into my mouth.”

He doesn’t sound like he didn’t like it, though.

You snuggle up against Mark’s side, your cheek on his shoulder, and Jungwoo cuddles up behind you, drawing the blankets up to cover all three of you. “Goodnight,” he whispers, kissing the back of your shoulder, “You know we love you, right? That we didn’t mean those things we said.”

You hum. “But I am a slut for all of you. I accepted that a long time ago.”

Mark pets your hair. “You’re an angel. Just go to sleep, babe.”

Several hours later you wake in the half-light of dawn in your bedroom. The door is cracked open a bit, letting in a little light from the hallway, and a nightlight glows in the corner, all of this allowing you enough light to see that Mei’s in her bed sound asleep. But it takes you another second to realize that Jungwoo is gone, that Mark is sitting up on the opposite side of the bed from you whispering to Doyoung.

“Doyoung?” You mumble, rolling over fully, stretching your arms above your head. “What are you doing? Where’d Jungwoo go?”

Mark leans over, kisses your forehead. “Go back to sleep. Jungwoo just felt like there wasn’t enough room with all three of us.” He brushes his fingers through your hair for another moment, and then your eyelids sink shut again.

The next time you wake, it’s much later. The sun is shining through the windows, Mark is asleep once more beside you. Taeil is sitting in the rocking chair, holding Mei and giving her a bottle. You almost feel a sense of déjà vu to a few months ago, though back then you’d woken in the middle of the night to this similar situation.

“Good morning,” you yawn, sitting up and stretching your arms above your head. “I didn’t even hear her cry out.”

Taeil shakes his head. “She didn’t. Jungwoo said you’d probably be pretty tired this morning, so I just came in to check on her. She just woke up a few minutes ago.”

You nod, and then look around, trying to find your phone, but it’s not on the nightstand where you would normally leave it.

“Why don’t you go shower?” Taeil suggests. “Lucas ordered in some breakfast for everyone.”

“Why?” You stand up, dragging the top blanket with you to keep your body covered.

Taeil shrugs. “I think he lost a bet yesterday or something. But go shower.” He tilts his head toward the door to your bathroom. “If you hurry there might still be some left.”

So you do go shower off, and when you come back out, Taeil’s gone but Mark is sitting in bed, his legs spread in a V with Mei lying on her back between them as he plays peek-a-boo with her.

You walk over to the nightstand to grab your phone, then remember that it’s not there. So you start looking in the bedsheets, then you crouch down to look under the bed.

“What are you doing?” Mark asks.

“Looking for my phone. I was going to send my mom some pictures from the trip.” You sweep your arm under the bed, only coming out with a pair of panties you thought you’d lost ages ago. You toss them toward the wash basket and then stand up, looking around, hoping that your phone will catch your eye from somewhere unexpected. “Have you seen it?”

Mark stands up, hoisting Mei up into his arms, and instantly she’s resting her head on his shoulder in a way that is absolutely one of the most adorable things. If she loves her dad the most, then Mark is a close second tied with Jaehyun. “Nope. Maybe it’s a sign that you should be away from your phone today. Did Taeil tell you about Lucas buying breakfast? I think he got some of those bubble waffles you’ve been wanting to try.”

You let it go for the time being. You know your phone is somewhere here in the house; you had it just last night while showing the boys some photos and videos, and now you’re just not sure where it’s gotten to. So you follow Mark downstairs to the kitchen.

Jaemin and Renjun are in there when you, Mark, and Mei walk in. They stay to hang out, playing with Mei to make her laugh while you and Mark eat breakfast, and then Mark disappears for a bit, and you give Mei a bath, play with her by giving her tickles and kisses, stretching her arms above her head and cycling her legs as you get her dressed. She smells clean and perfect, just a happy ball of sunshine as you bounce her in your arms as you walk around the house looking for your phone wherever it might be.

The house is oddly quiet. Most of the guys are gone though you can hear Jisung and Hendery playing video games downstairs. Eventually you walk into the room Doyoung, Taeil, Yuta, and Mark share, though right now only Doyoung is in there, curled up on his bed watching a drama, looking sleepy.

“Hey.” He sits up abruptly, pausing the show.

“Hey,” you reply. But you don’t stop to chat, you start moving around the room, nudging aside bags and piles of clothes, flipping the sheets on Yuta’s bed with one hand, moving Taeil’s pillows around. When you turn back to Doyoung he’s watching you with a confused expression. You sigh. “You haven’t seen my phone, have you? I know I had it last night, but I can’t find it anywhere this morning.”

Doyoung looks back at the drama. “No, I haven’t seen it. I’m sure it’ll turn up. Miso probably stole it. You know your cat is a real thief, right?” He glances back over at you. “Yesterday I caught him stealing a pair of my socks, and Taeil said he thought he saw him eyeing up that handstitched baby blanket from your mom. It’s like he’s nesting somewhere in the house.” He fiddles with his sleeve, and when his phone lights up beside his thigh with a notification, a thought enters your mind.

You lean closer, reaching for his phone. “Can I just use your phone to call mine?”

Doyoung snatches his phone away. “No.” He hides his phone on the opposite side of the bed.

Mei makes bubbly noise, blowing at her lips while she clings to your shirt as you try to reach Doyoung’s phone again. He moves it even farther out of your reach.

You stand up straight, shifting Mei slightly. “Doyoung, what the hell? Just let me see your phone.”

He shakes his head. His grip on his phone is so tight that his knuckles lose all their color. The screen lights up again from between his fingers, and you can just make out the sight of multiple messages coming through. And in the silence of this standoff you hear a quiet buzzing coming at the same time from beneath his bed.

Doyoung’s not fast enough to stop you as you crouch down and dig a hand beneath his bed, coming out with your phone in your hand.

“Wow, that’s crazy. How did that get there?” Doyoung asks in a very put-on voice, his look of surprise very clearly fake.

You frown at him as you rub the screen of your phone against your shirt to clean it a bit. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on? Or do I need to look at this first?” You wave your phone, and at that moment, Doyoung reaches out and snatches it from you, hiding it right back beside his phone. “Doyoung. Seriously.”

You can feel Mei drooling through the shoulder of your shirt, but you don’t even care.

Doyoung shakes his head. “I just thought you could use some time away from your phone today.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” You readjust your hold on your daughter. “Are you really just going to lie to me like this?”

He shakes his head again, looking at you for a few long moments in silence as the phones continue to buzz periodically beside him. And eventually Doyoung sighs. He pushes away from his blankets, standing up in front of you, and then he puts a hand to your shoulder and presses you to sit down on his bed.

“The fans know about you and WinWin. Someone posted photos and videos of the two of you together on your trip. They got you and him and Mei looking like a happy little family, and this time I don’t think there’s any denying it like our team did last time.” Doyoung clears his throat. “And either that same sasaeng or a different one must’ve been outside here yesterday when you got home. There are photos of you and Xiaojun hugging. People are bringing up those old pictures and videos like they did last time. It’s a whole fucking mess, and I didn’t want you to see any of that.”

Suddenly the blurry memory from early that morning of Doyoung in your room whispering to Mark makes sense. The odd behavior of all of your boyfriends so far today, like the way Mark and Taeil had both tried to distract you when you were looking for your phone.

“We all think that you shouldn’t leave the house again for a bit. Like, fans are going crazy.” Doyoung’s hand massages your shoulder gently. “Like last time, there’s fans defending you and us, but there’s others too. I don’t think you need to see any of that.” He sinks down to kiss you gently, soothingly on the forehead. “We just want to protect you.”

You’ve been through all of this before, so this time it seems a little easier to handle. You can’t blame Doyoung and the others for wanting to keep you from seeing the things that are being said online. You even manage to keep yourself from looking at social media after you leave Doyoung’s room with your phone back in your possession. Well, at least for a little while.

Eventually you do look. You see fans talking about being so mad that sasaengs are camped out in front of the house. You see long threads full of the same pictures from before, with several more from your vacation with WinWin, plus several others that you recognize of you with the other boys over the last month or so.

You put Mei down for a nap and sit in the rocking chair beside her bed with your knees drawn up to your chest as you scroll through Twitter looking at all of this. You only get up to close the curtains over your window because even though your bedroom is on the top floor of the house and facing away from the street, you can’t help but feel surveilled. You see someone reposted some photos from one of those sasaengs that are apparently camped in front of the house, and you almost throw your phone away because you can hear that Ten, Johnny, and Taeyong just got home and those are the photos that are already being circulated.

This goes on for a few days. No statements put out by the boys or the company seem to sway the fans, and you can barely eat or sleep. You can’t leave the house. There are stalkers outside day and night, and you leave the curtains drawn on every window so you can at least walk around inside the house without feeling like they can see you.

On the morning of the third day, as the sun rises you’re sitting in the kitchen, watching Hendery sleepily eat a bowl of cereal. You haven’t eaten since about midday the previous day. You lost any appetite you might have had when one of the Dream members came home and a sasaeng nearly attempted to come in with him.

Since then their company did at least hire a security guard to stand in front of the house’s door, but your stomach is still tied in so many nauseous knots.

The front door of the house opens, sounding loud in the quiet munching of Hendery’s breakfast, and your heart sinks into the bare cavern of your belly, anxiety knotting your nerves. But then the door closes, and Taeyong calls out just loud enough for you to hear, “It’s just me.”

You hate that he knows that you’re this nervous about everything that he has to announce himself. He pops his head into the kitchen a moment later, gaze sliding from you to Hendery and then back again. He sighs at the look on your face, then comes closer. Taeyong asks, “Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Did you?” You retort. He already knows the answer, you can see it written on his face that he wouldn’t believe you even if you said yes. “No, Taeyong. I haven’t slept. Every time I close my eyes, I just think about one of them sneaking inside and coming upstairs.”

Taeyong strokes your hair. “We have the guard. He won’t let them in. He barely let me pass by.” He smiles lightly in an attempt to brighten your mood, but it doesn’t work. “Babe, I can see that you’re beyond stressed about all of this. If you need to, go stay with your parents for a while, until this all blows over again.”

“But what if it doesn’t blow over.” You swat his hand away, suddenly overwhelmed by irritation at the patronizing way he’s petting you. “Your fans have a long memory. They’re not quick to forgive either. And some of their theories online are disturbingly accurate. They hate me.”

“They don’t even know you.”

“Well, they hate me for being happy in this relationship with all of you.” You fold your arms over your chest and stare down into Hendery’s cereal bowl until you hear the sound of Taeyong walking away.

Hendery taps his spoon on the side of his bowl for a few seconds before he clears his throat. “Are you unhappy?”

You almost roll your eyes. Of course you’re not happy right now.

“I mean, like, in this relationship. With all of us.” He sits the spoon down and pulls his hands back into his lap. “I know it’s unusual and that in itself makes this more stressful. I guess, what I mean to ask is, do you think you’d be happier if this relationship were more normal? If there were less of us?”

You look slowly into his eyes. “What?”

“I haven’t really been in this since Mei was born. I think, for me, what you and I have has mostly been about sex. At least, as I’ve been thinking about it recently, that’s how I think it’s been.” He nibbles nervously at his bottom lip. “Right now, there’s a lot going on, and it’s stressful for you and for me, so maybe if I back out of this relationship it will help a little bit.”

You want to say, “Right, because piling heartbreak on top of the rumors and hate is going to help.” But you don’t. You keep quiet because maybe he’s right.

You haven’t had Hendery around much since Mei was born. It’s not like you didn’t invite him to be around, he just doesn’t come around. He’s there, but not really. You know he’d been somewhat excited about you having a baby, had been there for you as he believed that she could have been his, but once he’d seen her with his own eyes and held her in his arms, once he’d learned that she shared none of his DNA, that’s when you’d felt him withdrawing somewhat.

And you know he’s right about the sex. Yes, you’d had your romantic moments together. Shared intimate date nights, soft ‘I love you’s between kisses, and many of the things you’d shared with your other boyfriends, but truly from the start this thing between you and Hendery had been sexual. And sex with Hendery was something that you hadn’t had in months.

“I’m sorry.” You duck your head as you apologize. You’ve gone months ignoring Hendery’s sexual needs. “God, I’m a really bad girlfriend, aren’t I? You guys keep breaking up with me and telling me how good I am at ignoring you, making you feel left out. And you’re all right.”

“I’m not blaming you for that!” Hendery quickly says. “You’re busy! You’re a mom now. You have all of us to pay attention to. And for so long you couldn’t have sex after Mei, and like I said, I really feel like that was a key point to our relationship. It might sound bad to say this now, but like, our relationship has been over for months now, and we’ve just been pretending that it’s not. But I think it’s time that we finally put the end stamp on it.”

So you do, and you feel that stamp like a dull bruise on your heart.

But he’s right. Things between you and him have been over for months. Similar to you and Ten, the end of this branch of your polyamorous relationship has withered and faded away.

And as you rise from the breakfast table, hoping to go upstairs to maybe catch a few moments of sleep, you feel the instability of this whole relationship around you. You’ve lost four of your boyfriends in what feels like such a short time. And you’re afraid that they won’t be the only ones.

Ten looks ridiculous, cradling Miso like a baby in one arm, holding Mei in the other, grinning and bouncing them.

It’s been almost a week now since the rumors started up again, and they’ve died down some, but there’s still a lot of attention on you and the boys.

“Why don’t you just marry one of them?” Ten asks as you voice your worries aloud. “I mean, get married, admit that you’ve got a baby, it’s a little less than traditional but it’s not like it’s not something that’s happened before. Other idols have announced all of those things after the fact. That would get the fans to butt out, but right now they’re just being nosy, wanting to know the details of what exactly is going on. They want to understand your role with all of us. I’m sure Mark would be glad to do the honor of marrying you.”

You sigh before admitting, “Sicheng has also proposed to me.”

Ten makes a noise of surprise that startles Miso who twists his way out of Ten’s arms and drops to the floor. Ten quickly and carefully makes sure that he’s got a good hold on Mei and that Miso didn’t scrape her or anything in his escape.

Once he’s comforted himself that she’s fine (as if she wouldn’t have immediately begun squalling if Miso had caught her with a claw), Ten stares at you. “He proposed? And you said no? Also, since when do you call him Sicheng?”

“Since I realized it was weird calling my boyfriend, the father of my daughter by WinWin when that’s not his real name.”

“But you still call Hendery by his name, not his actual name. And Lucas.” Ten points out.

Your heart gives an odd little beat. “Yeah, but neither of them are my boyfriends anymore. And besides, I call Xiaojun Dejun sometimes.” You start listing off all of your boyfriends, suggesting you call them by their actual names rather than the ones you and pretty much everyone else use for them.

Ten waves his hand at you to make you stop. “You’re just doing all of this to gloss over the fact that WinWin proposed to you, and you turned him down. Do you just not want to get married or something? Is that what this is? Because that right there is a very good option: the father of your child, extremely in love with you. He’s the perfect solution to everything going on right now. Most of the fans already believe that WinWin’s definitely the one that you’re dating in the group.”

“Well, they’re not wrong. They just don’t know about all of the others. And all of the others are exactly why I can’t marry him. It’s not fair.” You thought about all of this the first time when Mark proposed, rethought it when WinWin proposed. “And can’t you just imagine what a slap in the face that would be to Mark since I turned him down? How Jaehyun would react?”

Ten rolls his eyes now. “You can’t live your life worrying about how Jaehyun’s going to react to stuff. He can be very dramatic, but I promise you, babe, he just wants you to be happy. That’s what we’ve all ever wanted for you. For sweet, sweet Mingmei.” He looks down at Mei then, making a silly face that makes her burst into giggles.

“I don’t want to get married to any of them yet. Not when I don’t know.” You clench your fists against your belly where the knots that have been there for a week still grow even tighter.

“When you don’t know what?” Ten asks, glancing up from Mei.

You shrug. “Everything. How everything will play out.”

Over the last week, especially these last few days since you and Hendery had the quiet breakup in the kitchen, things have felt so odd and unstable. Almost all of them dance around you and your feelings, it’s only your exes who seem to be perfectly fine, like Ten and Johnny. You can feel the tension in the air every time you pass one of your boyfriends, like the crackling of static electricity in the air before a storm.

You’re just waiting for the first rumble of thunder.

Weeks pass with nothing.

Then late October arrives, the days cool and overcast, but your days with your boyfriends and your daughter as she hits 6 months feel bright and sunny, watching her grow and excel every day.

But that was just the silence before the storm.

Clouds gather and the static feeling grows in the air as the silence surrounding this whole relationship breaks after so long.

Someone (“an insider” according to articles being posted online) spilled some details of the relationship, talking about how the members of NCT are all involved in some way or another with you. They don’t list your name in the articles, not that it matters because fans dig up your private information, your social media and things like that before you have the chance to prevent it.

It wouldn’t have been such a big deal, just another rumor to brush under the rug. Except that this insider had really offered up very specific details. They cite the time you went to America to join 127 on tour. How you broke up with them, only to come back a few months later and then miraculously wound up pregnant just weeks later.

The article makes it sound like you’re a gold-digging whore of the group.

You suspect that it’s a manager of the group that had leaked this info, they’re the only ones that could have had the information without spilling it for all this time. Not even any of your closest friends had known all of this.

But the article is a massive success, sweeping the internet.

And just like that, the storm you’ve seen approaching for weeks breaks around you.

Jungwoo is the first to approach you that same evening. The house has been disturbingly quiet. WinWin came and took Mei away a little while ago, telling you that you looked like you needed some time to yourself, and that he could take care of his daughter for a bit. You know he’s right. Especially when Jungwoo enters your room.

He looks like an anxious disaster, can barely get through his explanation. He cites the pressure and attention from fans on the relationship right now. The things he’s seeing online, as now fans aren’t only attacking you but are also saying very terrible things about the members. It’s destroying him.

“I love you so much, I really, really do.” Jungwoo promises, holding onto your hand so tightly that you swear you can feel your bones grinding together. “But I can’t be a part of this anymore, it’s not good for me. And, also, I just—I don’t think I’m ready to be a dad, not really. Like I thought I could be, but watching you and WinWin with her, seeing the responsibility and everything of it, I’m not ready for that. I think I’d be better as her Uncle Jungwoo, you know?”

You do. You understand. You hate it, but you get it.

Taeil comes in not too long later as you’re still wiping at the stupid hot tears that pour down your cheeks. You’re hiccuping from the force of your crying, and at first you think Taeil’s just heard you crying and has come in to comfort you. He sits down on your bed with you, grabs some tissues for you to blow your nose and wipe your face. He puts his arm around you, and you rest your head on his shoulder.

You can tell the moment when he’s about to say the words you don’t want to hear. His breath hitches as he opens his mouth, searching for the words to say.

You sit up and put a hand to his chest.

“Don’t.” You shake your head. “Please, Taeil. Don’t break up with me. Please.”

His hand covers yours, warm and soft. “Baby, I think it’s now or never, honestly.” His voice is slow and sad, overflowing with all of these different emotions. “I think that before this is all over you’re going to have to decide on one of us to be with, and I hate it, but I just know that it won’t be me.”

Those words hit like stones, and something breaks inside you as you press yourself against him, clinging, silently begging him not to leave.

This house you’ve lived in has been on such unstable foundations since the moment Lucas left you, and now you feel like the ground it’s been built on has turned to liquid. Taeil can’t leave. He’s been such a stable person that you can rely on here. You love him.

Taeil presses his lips to your hair, holds you as you cry, as you repeatedly ask him not to leave you too. But you can tell that he’s already made up his mind, signed out of this relationship, decided that the others rank higher than him, even though it’s his bed that you’d shared for so many nights. It’s Taeil that you woke up to on so many happy mornings; it’s Taeil that you’d once spent all night during your late pregnancy talking to as he touched your belly and spoke softly to your unborn daughter as she stretched and rolled, the two of you whispering together about a future that you could have together.

He holds you until you stop crying but only because your throat hurts and your nose is running and you’ve started hiccuping again. Taeil leaves only when the door opens again and Taeyong stands there.

“Oh, sorry, I can—“ Taeyong points his thumb back over his shoulder, as if he can leave and come back later. But Taeil stands up, gestures for Taeyong to take his place, and as Taeyong slides in to take up the place of the ghost of Taeil in your arms, Taeil slips out the door and closes it behind him.

You don’t even give Taeyong the chance to talk to you. “Are you breaking up with me?”

The way he goes awkwardly stiff is answer enough. A few seconds tick by, your head on his shoulder, wet cheek feeling stuck to the cotton of his tshirt. Taeyong sighs, “I don’t really belong here as much as I once did. And I think it’s far past the time we stop pretending that I do. I just think I might be happier somewhere else. You might be happier with less people in this relationship. You’re always juggling us and Mei, trying to make time to make each of us happy, but you don’t give yourself the time. I love you, I love Mei. I want both of you to have the best in life, and I just don’t think that you need me here romantically to do that.”

The words spill out of him, his thumb stroking over your knuckles as he says, “Besides, I.... I really like what I have going on with Ten. It’s easier, honestly. We understand what each other needs on some level that I just.... I don’t think you and I have ever really had. Ten’s good at making me feel small when I need it, powerful when I don’t. We have fun and can trust each other, and, like I said, I love you, but we don’t have that in the same way.”

By the time that Taeyong leaves, you feel wrung out. You’re surprised that there are still any tears left, surprised that there’s any more of your heart to break.

And then Xiaojun walks into your room. You’re half buried in your pillow and blankets. You don’t even properly see him.

“Just leave,” you tell him. “Just like everyone else.”

Xiaojun makes a noise, but you cut him off.

“Don’t. I’m so tired of breaking up, Xiaojun. Please, just, let’s get this over with. You can leave.” You turn your back on him.

“I wasn’t coming in here for that....” Xiaojun’s voice is small. “But if that’s what you want, I guess, um, I understand.”

You pull your blanket cocoon tighter around you, press your face deep into your pillow, and wallow in the darkness as Xiaojun closes the door behind him, night falls outside.

Some time passes. You’re not sure how long exactly, only that you’d heard footsteps passing up and down the stairs, doors opening and closing, showers running. The night sky visible through the tiny gap in your bedroom window’s curtains shows that it is dark outside, truly dark. You should be asleep by now, fallen into fitful dreams after the misery of the past several hours. You’d heard your bedroom door crack open a while back, heard WinWin’s quiet whisper to Mei, heard the pause, then he’d backed out of the room and taken Mei with him, leaving you to wallow in the sorrow of your breakups.

The house has fallen once more into disturbing silence when your bedroom door next opens. You can’t tell who it is right away. And then he turns the light on, flipping the switch to throw the room into blinding whiteness for a moment. You blink against it, rolling over to face the door, and once your eyes adjust, you see Jaehyun.

He presses the door shut firmly behind him, leaning back against it as he stares at you.

“Are you going to break up with me too?” You mumble, wiping your snot and tears on the pillow case. “You tired of being watched all the time? Being whispered about and shitted upon by your fans? I know I haven’t been ignoring you, so that one can’t be your reason.”

Jaehyun just sighs and pushes away from the door to come sit down on the edge of your bed. He rests his hand on your back, rubbing up and down to help you relax, but you just bury your face in your pillow again and keep crying.

This fucking sucks. You feel like your heart has been run through a shredder. Four boyfriends gone in one fell sweep, just a few hours. And you pray with every ounce of your being that Jaehyun’s not here to break up with you too. You don’t think you would blame him. You don’t really blame any of them—they deserve to live a happy life that’s not tangled in with this drama of the polyamorous relationship, your daughter, the heavy judgement from their own fans because of you—and it does make sense, but that doesn’t mean that you’re not heartbroken.

You twist your head to the side and look up at the blurry colors of Jaehyun’s face. He’s just watching you with what you think is a sad expression (but his face really is quite blurry through your teary eyes). If he’s here to end things with you, then you want to say what you have to say first, so you just say it: “Mei’s not your daughter.”

Jaehyun’s hand goes still on your back. You can feel just how tense he goes too.

“I know that.” His voice sounds tight.

“She’s not your daughter, and I know how badly you wished that she was, and now with all of this shit going on, I wouldn’t blame you if you were breaking up with me too.” You close your eyes. “You could go be free of me, go start dating some probably really hot model or actress or other idol, go make a super hot baby with her.”

“You’re right, I could go do that.” Jaehyun says it simply.

Your eyes flash open to glare at him, but he’s smiling softly at you.

“I could go do that, but why would I?” His hand starts moving on your back again. “I love you. How many times do I have to say that before you get it through that thick head of yours.” His knuckles knock gently on your forehead. You frown, and Jaehyun just laughs. “I love you,  and I love Mei even though she’s not biologically my daughter. I don’t know why you think that I would leave you just because of that.  I know when we broke up the first time it’s because I was shitty and jealous all the time, but I’ve grown, haven’t I? And regarding what you were just saying about finding a hot model or whatever to have a baby with, I have no intention of leaving you for anyone else. You are already hotter than I can handle, thank you. I have a beautiful daughter downstairs. And if you ever want any more beautiful babies in the future, I’m right here to help with that. If you don’t, then that’s okay too. We have Mei.”

Your eyes feel hot and your breath hitches in your chest for an entirely different reason than minutes before. You squeeze your eyes shut as fresh, hot tears spill over.

Jaehyun sinks down to lay on the bed right in front of you. His thumb traces over the mess of tears on your face, and you bring your hand up to the back of his.

With your eyes still closed, you confess, “I’m so afraid of what the future holds right now. I feel like you’re all going to leave me. All of you.” You sniffle, then quietly say, “But then you have to go and say stuff like that, Jung Jaehyun. Do you mean it?”

“Every word. Promise?” Jaehyun offers, his pinky finger intertwining with yours already. 

You squeeze your pinky in a loop with his, and you each press a kiss to your hands to seal it.

“Why did you think I was going to break up with you?” Jaehyun asks after a moment. “Who else did? Why?”

So you start to explain to him the past several hours in a story with pauses for you to get through your hiccuping tears, with many deviations down side tracks through history explaining why you understand their reasoning. You talk and talk, and Jaehyun listens and holds you.

And by the time the morning sun rises, you don’t really feel better necessarily, but for the moment you feel like you’re at least being held together, you feel like maybe everything going on right now does suck immensely, but you have Jaehyun here holding you in his arms, ready to shield your fragile heart from anything else that comes your way.

Adore You <- Previous || Next -> Let Me

a/n: so this is the end of Part 1 of the Finale (I’m sorry for stretching it out into two parts, but this story isn’t able to be wrapped up in less than 40,000 words apparently). I really hated writing this, like there were so many breakups and poor y/n has to go through so much heartbreak in this part :( but it was inevitable, something I’ve been hinting at pretty much since the first part of the series I’m pretty sure. Part 2 should be posted pretty soon, so I promise the wait for it won’t be so long, but what do y’all think? Who do you think she’ll end up with? Several of them or just one? 

As usual, please let me know what you think through comments, reblogs, likes, messages, whatever. Sharing is definitely super appreciated!

#nct smut #wayv smut #poly smut #nct #wayv

[extasiswings]

Ohhh 70 (“After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?”) OR 93 (“You’re more than that.”) for the prompt thing, whichever you prefer! I always adore your writing, thank you so much for sharing it with us ☺️

OR? No, both. And thank you, you're very sweet. On ao3 here.

Most of the time, Buck feels like there’s no one in the world who understands Eddie as well as he does. Most of the time. Because there are still some other times when he’s completely in the dark.

And sure, okay, it makes sense on some level because they all have their blind spots—of course he’s going to have a few where Eddie is concerned as well—but they never fail to catch him by surprise.

A month after Eddie comes home from the hospital, Buck is having coffee with Carla while Eddie’s at a physical therapy appointment and he offhandedly says—

“Not sure why I never see Ana. You would think Eddie being shot would make her want to be around more, not less—”

“Buck,” Carla interrupts, a strange look passing over her face. “Honey...Eddie broke up with her three weeks ago.”

That stops Buck short, makes him feel like he’s missed a step on the stairs.

“What?” His mouth is dry. He swallows. “He—why?”

Carla picks up her cup and takes a long sip, as if she needs the extra seconds to figure out what to say, and Buck backtracks.

“No, forget it, that’s—it’s not my business,” he says. It’s not. Even if it feels a little like it should be, even if he doesn’t understand why Eddie would tell Carla and not him, even if he’s Eddie’s best friend—

Buck knows that Eddie’s a private person. He knows that sometimes Eddie keeps things close to his chest while he’s thinking them through. Eddie hadn’t said a word about Shannon until she walked into the station and aired their business for all of them to hear. He barely talked about Ana in the first place. He changed his will and sat on that information for a year—

Buck’s not upset it’s just—it feels—

The thing is.

The thing is…He’s not oblivious. He knows how he feels about Eddie. How he’s felt for at least the past two years. Like he can’t breathe, can’t speak, can’t look at him without feeling like he’s screaming with it, bleeding love all over, unable to stop it dripping from every pore. Exposed and pathetically obvious, and the whole time Eddie has just—said nothing. Ignored it, Buck assumes, because he can’t not have noticed, can’t not have seen.

And maybe sometimes Buck has wondered if Eddie wasn’t ignoring it. If he felt the same and just couldn’t say it. Because he was grieving and wasn’t ready—

But then he was. He was ready. And he chose Ana Flores.

That was the end of it. That was supposed to be the end of it. Because Buck’s not a masochist, he knows he hangs onto things for too long, but he’s been working on knowing when to let go.

Except—except Eddie got shot. Eddie got shot and Buck sat on a hospital bed and stared as Eddie said no one will ever fight for my son as hard as you and you act like you’re expendable…but you’re not and the words felt…heavy. The air, weighted. And Eddie couldn’t look at him and Buck could swear that he was trying to say—

Buck knows he shouldn’t be. But there’s a part of him that’s angry. That wants to pace and run and clasp Eddie’s face between his hands and ask really? Now? Because—because Eddie got shot. Eddie got shot and Buck barely survived it, thought if Eddie died, he would have died with him, was more terrified than he’s ever been in his life. But he did survive. And he moved on. He kissed Taylor. He closed the door.

So Eddie’s not allowed to make big declarations that he could have made a year ago and then break up with his girlfriend when Buck is finally trying—

Okay, maybe he’s a little upset.

The rest of him though—most of him, really—knows he doesn’t have any right to be angry. Which is why most of him is just…tired. Tired and terrified and still so in love.

Buck thinks maybe Eddie was right all those months ago. The universe doesn’t scream. It just laughs. At him.

“Buck?” Carla’s gaze is soft. Steady.

Buck clears his throat. Drains the last dregs of his coffee. He tries not to feel like he’s swallowed glass.

“Did I tell you I’m seeing someone?” He asks, forcing a smile. “She’s a reporter. She was—she was at Eddie’s homecoming actually, maybe you met her. It’s still pretty new, but we’ve been friends for a while. Going pretty well so far.”

Something flickers in Carla’s eyes, but she takes a breath and smiles.

“That’s great, Buckaroo,” she replies. “I’m happy for you.”

He’s trying. He’s really trying.

He doesn’t ask Eddie about the breakup.

*

Recovery is slow.

Buck doesn’t really like thinking about it as recovery because Eddie’s the one who got shot. Eddie’s the one who was in a sling and in physical therapy and had to spend months waiting to be well enough to get cleared to go back to work.

Eddie’s the one who got shot. The one whose blood flooded the street. The one who spent days unconscious in the hospital. The one who almost died.

Eddie’s the only one who has anything to recover from.

Dr. Copeland doesn’t agree. Buck mentions that he’s having trouble sleeping, that his chest gets tight if he goes too long without seeing Eddie and Christopher, that he can’t breathe sometimes when he’s on shift and Eddie’s out of sight.

She refers him out to a trauma specialist. He tries to argue that it’s not his trauma, but she just looks at him for a long moment.

“When you say you can’t sleep, is it insomnia? Or do you have nightmares that wake you up?”

Buck bites his lip and looks down at his hands. When he blinks, they’re streaked with red. When he blinks again, they’re clean. He curls his fingers into fists to prevent them from shaking.

“A little of both,” he admits.

“And when it’s nightmares, what are they about?”

“…blood.” Eddie’s blood in the street, on his hands, splashed across his face, on his tongue—

She hums.

“Evan,” she says quietly. “It’s okay. It’s not a weakness to admit that you need help. And just because you weren’t shot yourself doesn’t mean you didn’t experience something traumatic. You’re allowed to seek treatment.”

Buck swallows. “I feel like…I should be better by now,” he admits. “Better than this. Shouldn’t it be easier?”

“Recovery is a process,” Dr. Copeland replies. “A journey. And it doesn’t always move in a straight line. There’s no timetable.”

Recovery. He makes a face.

But, he goes to see the specialist. He’s not sure how much it helps.

Blood splashing across his face, water running red, skin scrubbed raw—

Buck sits up gasping, cold sweat beading across his brow. Taylor is sound asleep on the other side of the bed, the distance between them a chasm he doesn’t know how to cross. He doesn’t know if he wants to even if he did.

He shivers. Grabs his phone. Quietly descends the steps of the loft to settle on the couch.

“Buck. Hey.” Eddie’s voice is gravelly and soft from sleep. Buck winces.

“Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I don’t mind,” Eddie replies. “You know I don’t mind.”

Eddie pauses. “What was it tonight?”

Buck exhales shakily. “Your heart stopped in the truck before we could get to the hospital. I couldn’t get it to start again. I know it didn’t happen that way, but I still—”

“It’s okay,” Eddie says. “I’m okay. That—it wasn’t real.”

“Yeah.” It felt real though. Buck can still feel ribs cracking under phantom compressions, the slick of blood on his hands. He can taste Eddie’s blood in his mouth.

“What do you need?”

Buck stretches out and closes his eyes, the phone pressed hard to his ear.

You. Just you. Always you.

“Can you—” His throat clicks. “Can you just talk? It doesn’t matter about what, I just—”

I need to hear your voice. I need to hear you alive.

“Christopher picked a project for the science fair,” Eddie says. “You have to promise to act surprised when he tells you though. He’s really excited.”

“Oh yeah? I can do that. What is it?”

“Well…”

Buck falls asleep again with Eddie’s voice in his ear and he doesn’t dream again. Taylor wakes him on the couch in the morning, an odd look on her face—he doesn’t know how to explain that it’s not her fault. She just can’t help him. Perhaps she never could.

Buck thinks maybe there’s still a part of her that wants him to chase her. But he’s in no condition to chase anyone, even if he wanted to. It takes enough out of him to hold himself together. And to fight against what seems more and more inevitable.

So. Maybe he should stop fighting it.

He sighs and scrubs a hand over his face as he sits up.

“I think we should probably talk,” he says quietly.

Taylor tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and sinks down onto the couch next to him.

“I think we should.”

It ends as quickly as it began.

*

Christmas takes him by surprise. It’s not that Buck doesn’t notice the fall slipping away—a Halloween shift, a Veteran’s Day that has Eddie a little quieter, a little shakier, than usual, and Thanksgiving lasts practically a whole week with all the leftovers that end up in the station—but somehow it doesn’t fully register until he looks up at the calendar in the middle of December and sees a smiling Christmas tree sticker on a date ten days out. They’re not working, so the only question is where he’s going to end up, if anywhere. Although, he supposes even that’s not really a question.

He knows where he’ll end up.

Five days before Christmas, a last-minute tree has been wrangled into the Diaz house and Buck is fighting with a tangled set of lights while Eddie pulls out wrapping paper and ribbons and retrieves the hidden stash of gifts for Christopher from his closet. Christopher himself is fast asleep in his room, worn out from the day of running around, and without the extra person to focus on Buck takes a moment and lets himself just...watch Eddie. Sitting on the floor in low light with his legs stretched out, surrounded by ornaments and boxes and stray clippings and a small pile of somewhat lumpy, clumsily wrapped gifts, his lower lip caught between his teeth as he focuses on trying to figure out the right way to fold the wrapping paper—

There’s a stray piece of tinsel in his hair and a laugh catches in Buck’s throat, even as the rest of him aches with a sudden, fierce urge to brush it away.

He aches. Because this—this is what he wants. Eddie and Christopher and going around town to finish the Christmas shopping, picking out a tree and decorating it as a family, coming home to this day after day after day and knowing it’s where he’s supposed to be—

Eddie got shot. Eddie got shot and it was the worst moment of Buck’s life. He thinks sometimes that he would rather have his leg crushed under a thousand ladder trucks than risk going through that again, but—but running away didn’t make him stop loving Eddie. Dating Taylor didn’t make him stop loving Eddie. Time hasn’t made him feel anything less, if anything it’s just cemented things.

So...so if Eddie is going to have the power to hurt him that badly regardless of whether Buck admits it out loud, if the risk of loss is going to be there anyway...shouldn’t he at least get to have everything? All the good parts?

Don’t they deserve the chance to be happy?

“Buck?” Eddie’s brow is furrowed in concern. “You okay?”

Buck opens his mouth, intending to reassure him, but what comes out is—

“Are you in love with me?” Eddie freezes and Buck resists the urge to panic and take it back.

“Because—” Buck clears his throat. “Because sometimes I think you might be, and—”

“Yes.” It’s quiet, barely a breath, but that single word hangs in the air. Buck’s heart races.

“You could have told me,” he replies. “Why—why didn’t you just—?”

Eddie looks away and Buck catches a familiar look flickering across his face. Doubt, shame, fear—everything that he himself has felt—

Oh.

Blind spots.

He never considered that Eddie might be just as afraid of rejection as he is. He never considered that what’s been so painfully obvious to him, might not have been to Eddie himself.

Buck gets up from the couch, stepping carefully around the mess on the floor until he can kneel down next to Eddie. Eddie, whose jaw is tight, shoulders tense, like he’s waiting for a blow.

“After everything we’ve been through...you still don’t know that I love you?” Buck asks quietly.

Eddie sucks in a startled breath, turning back to look at him, his gaze searching. Buck holds it steadily and waits. It’s not the first time he’s walked out on a limb. But it is the first time he’s had someone else out there with him.

If it cracks this time, they’ll fall together.

“I didn’t think—” Eddie’s eyes close briefly as he clears his throat. “I didn’t think I was enough.”

“You are,” Buck replies. “You’re more than—Eddie—”

“We have a life,” he says when he can get his thoughts in line. “We built a life. Together. Even if we didn’t say that was what we were doing, it’s what we did. So, maybe—maybe we can try being a little more honest about what we want while we’re living it? I don’t—I don’t want to waste anymore time.”

Eddie looks down—then, he reaches out slowly for Buck’s hand, his fingers finding the spaces between Buck’s and slotting in.

Buck squeezes gently. Eddie squeezes back.

“Okay,” Eddie agrees. “Let’s try that.”

Buck does pluck the tinsel from Eddie’s hair, but when he tosses it away, his hand comes right back, fingers sliding into the strands to keep Eddie still. Eddie’s eyes are dark in the dim light, but his lips curve faintly up as Buck leans in.

Kissing him feels like coming home.

#chapel writes #buddie #buddie fic #911 fic #evan buckley

[hisoknen]

kinktober day 5: incest warnings: incest, dubcon, somnophilia wc: 3k

a/n: huge thanks to @10millionyearsdungeon​ for always fueling my brain with the best juice and working through this with me, and @firefistmyass for helping me formulate the concept. i would have fallen flat without both of your support <3 

Your parents were gone for the weekend, leaving you home alone with Kirishima. It wouldn’t be something you gave much thought to usually. You would stay in your room watching TV or go bother him about what he was doing now that you were out of the house.

The two of you had gotten along well growing up together; he was always there to support you through everything. Breakups, bad grades, trouble with friends. But recently, you couldn’t help but feel drawn to him in a way that didn’t feel the same as before.

You would be home from University for the summer and wanted to spend every second you could get with him. But there was something new about him you hadn’t noticed before, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 

What you did know was the way you felt about your brother made you anxious in his presence, and if you didn’t imagine things, he’d started to act differently as well. 

Now when you’d come to him with your troubles, he would lift your chin and lay a soft kiss on your forehead, telling you that “no matter what he’d be there for you,” pulling you in close to his body for a lingering hug—hands resting at the small of your back. 

When you found him sitting on the couch playing video games, he would wave you over to sit on his lap, guiding your hands on the controller. When you’d get the hang of it, he would rest his hands on your hips or thighs, rubbing gentle patterns into your skin—low purrs into your ear, telling you just how cute you looked that day. 

Every stroke sent a wave of curiosity and doubt coursing through you. There was no way for him to know how his actions were making you feel. He was just reassuring you. 

You had to be the one getting the wrong idea.

He would come into your room late at night to watch movies with you. Laying his arm under your neck and taking you into the warmth of his sturdy body. Dipping his fingers beneath the hem of your shirt and tracing circles into your skin absentmindedly. You would sometimes lean into him and stretch your body so he could touch more of you, and he always would. 

When his friend Bakugou would come over, Kirishima would knock off his friend’s advances and push you out of the room. Eventually, Bakugou stopped showing up altogether, leaving you and Kiri more time alone. But any brother would be upset with their friend hitting on their little sister. He was just looking out for you because he wanted the best for you.

A few nights ago, while everyone was talking at a family dinner, you found your hand resting on his upper thigh. You remembered it vividly. As soon as you noticed, you tried to tear it away, feeling a tug at your wrists. Looking up, you saw Kirishima staring down at you. 

He directed his attention back to your parents, slowly guiding your hand to the bulge in his pants, moving it up and down his length. His fingers tightened around you, and a breath escaped his parted lips. 

Heat crept up your neck, blossoming to the shells of your ears. You squirmed in your seat, rubbing your thighs against each other, warmth spreading to the hollow of your belly. You tried desperately to quiet your breath, not to arouse any suspicion. Focusing back on the table, continuing the conversation with your parents as though your older brother wasn’t jerking himself off with your hand.

You could feel his pants beginning to dampen with precum. This isn’t what older brothers did. His fingers cling to you, moving them at a faster pace. A low noise rumbled in his throat, and right when you thought you’d get caught, he abruptly excused himself from the table.

Ever since that night, he began avoiding you altogether. Heading out for work earlier than usual and staying out late with friends. Whenever you would run into him, he was short with you, looking down at the floor and scratching his neck. 

When you reached out to touch him, he flinched away as though your hands were on fire. You would stay up late checking the cock, hoping he would come in and watch movies with you again, but he never did.

---

You open the front door, grabbing the box from the ground. Eijirou Kirishima.

With it in hand, you took cautious steps toward his room, listening at the door. It had been a week since he spoke with you. You paused, raising your hand to knock before stopping. Something was coming from behind the door. He was probably just making plans with a friend to go out again later. You wondered if he would even take the package from you or tell you to leave it there. 

“Fuck y/n,” 

The box almost dropped from your hands. Hearing him say your name after so long sent a jolt straight to your core. 

“Just like that.” 

Biting back a moan, you gently turn the knob. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears. Shakily trying to slow your breathing, as not to make a sound. His back was against the bed. Arm thrown over his face, nose resting against the crook of his elbow. 

His body was glimmering with sweat, chest heaving with each breath. All of the doubts you had before dissipated. He had one hand wrapped around his cock, thrusting into his fist while moaning your name.

You knew you shouldn't be watching. You grew up together; this wasn't right. You should be terrified that your older brother had uttered your name while touching himself. Yet you were stuck in place. Greedily harvesting every inch of his body in your memory.

You slipped out of your panties, the fabric softly landing on the floor. Kicking them to the side, you let your fingertips wander down your body. Becoming absorbed in each move Kirishima made, you dipped your fingers into your pussy, moving them in tandem with his thrusts. 

The shrill ring of his phone broke the tension in the room. He immediately shot up to grab it. You pulled your hands from your dripping cunt, wiping your fingers onto the skirt, quietly heading back to your room.

---

On your way back from grabbing a snack, you felt a heavy sense of dread fall into your gut, remembering that you left your underwear outside of his room. Quickly heading for his door, you frantically look around for them; they were gone. 

No matter how much you tried to reason, there was no one else in this house but the two of you. If he were upset, you would have heard about it already.

You quietly tap at the door before twisting the handle. Kirishima was passed out cold. Trying not to wake him, you ease onto the bed, crawling up close to his sleeping body. He looked so tempting like this—your hero. 

You knew it was a bad idea, but you were already making your way between his thighs before you could stop to second guess yourself. Pushing his shirt up to expose his hardening nipples to the cold air. His breath was even and relaxed, the rise and fall of his diaphragm, steady. There was a slight sheen of sweat covering his skin.

You glance back up at him, his features unmoving. What would he do if he caught you like this? Would he throw you to the side and tell your parents? Or would he push you down onto the bed and fuck you himself? 

Your vision pulses as you think about what you’re about to do. Your hands casually making their way down to the patch of black hair on his lower abdomen, stopping short of where you craved touching him most. If you did, there would be no going back. 

There was no way to come up with an excuse as to why your fingers were wrapped around his cock while he was asleep. You dipped your fingers under the band of his shorts, pulling his cock from within the confines.

You could have sworn you saw something move. Kirishima seemed to falter above you, but he was still fast asleep. 

You lowered your head, planting delicate kisses around the base of his cock. He must have been having a good dream, you thought to yourself, drawing one finger up the length of his engorged cock. It felt heavy in your hands and was larger than you could feel under his pants or see through the door earlier. 

There was already a bead of pre-cum dripping at his slit. You bring your mouth onto his tip dipping your tongue out to taste him. It was salty and stuck to your tongue, but you wanted more. You open your jaw wide, taking as much as you can before hollowing your cheeks sucking him in. He lets out a soft groan, but when you glanced up again, his eyes are still closed.

Even in the silent room, you can still hear your heart hammering against your chest. Each bob of your head brings waves of excitement and nausea to the surface, slurps of saliva and suction woven into your moans and hums. 

Taking a deep breath in, you move down, Kirishima’s cock hitting the back of your throat. You retch, throat convulsing around it and sucking him in further, tugging at his balls. You try to keep yourself in place, dragging ragged breaths through your nose, tears beginning to form at your eyes. 

There is a moan above you and a stutter of hips. Your head shoots up just in time to see Kirishima gazing down at you with squinted eyes before snapping them shut. You immediately pop off of him, wiping at the side of your mouth. 

“Y/n w-what are you doing in here?” He swallows thickly, cheeks flushed. “Get out of my room, you shouldn’t be doing this.” He props himself up on his elbows, staring at you with creased brows

“Yo- you were awake.” Sticking your tongue against the side of your cheek, you study his face. He was panicking, but he hadn’t moved away from you. Your hand was still resting on his upper thigh. He could easily have pushed you away if he really wanted to.

 “Y/n it’s wrong we can-”

“You didn’t seem to mind that earlier, when you pretended to be asleep while I was choking on your cock, Ejirou.” You climbed up his body, rubbing his shoulders. He grabs your wrists, yanking them away from his body.

“Y/n, we can’t do this,” frustration bubbles up inside of you. He was the one who had been teasing you all this time. Was he going to make it out that you were the perverted sister who came into the room to diddle him at night unprovoked? He just needed a little push. You’ve seen the way he reacts around you. He wants you just as badly as you want him.

“Eji please,” your lips form into a pout, head tilted to the side, eyes big and staring deep into his. You could feel a lump forming in your throat, panic bubbling up in your chest.

“Y/n I-” he hesitates, his grip loosening enough for you to snatch your arms out of his reach. You splay your hands over his chest, feeling his heart racing. He’s peering into your eyes, searching your face—wrestling with himself, unwilling to accept that he wanted this just as much as you did. 

“Fuck me, or I’ll tell mom you touched me.” His eyes widened in horror, darting out from under you, clearly taken back with what you’re threatening. 

“You wouldn’t.” 

All you wanted was to finally know how well he could fill up your cunt. You would do anything to feel that.

“Fuck me, or I’ll tell mom about how you were moaning my name earli-” in a flash, you’re pushed back onto the bed, your hands held above your head. Kirishima’s thigh wedges between your legs.

"You really want your brother's cock that bad, huh?" There was a complete shift in his demeanor. Moments ago, he was quiet and hesitant, something you'd never seen from him. Kirishima was always talking, loud, and in everyone's face. His pupils were blown with desire, and his tongue dipped out of his mouth to lick his lips. He looked hungry.

“You’ve got everyone fooled. You know that? With that innocent little act, you put on.” He lowers his face to your neck, tongue running a line against your pulse point. The change in him was frightening, but it had your pussy clenching around nothing, anticipating his actions.

“You want this, yeah? So badly that you’ll come to suck me off while I’m asleep?” Kiri’s warm hand begins to scale down your body, pushing up your flimsy top and grabbing a fist full of your breast, kneading the flesh roughly. His other hand holds your wrists above your head. His breath tickles your ears, coaxing a whimper from within you. The cold air in the room caresses your naked cunt.

“Of course, you fucking do. You’re just as filthy and depraved as I am.” His sharp teeth pierce your shoulder, a gasp tearing its way from your throat. Kirishima’s tongue lolls out to swirl around the tender flesh while he sucks. Your eyes closed, memorizing every second moment. Each impassioned touch that danced across your body, every roll of his hips against your thigh. 

“You know what I did? I held myself back all this time. But you can’t even show a little restraint?” His hand makes its way between your legs, pushing them apart, fingers swiping against your sensitive bundle of nerves. You can feel the blood beginning to bead out of the skin he broke, languidly dripping, making its way down your collarbone. 

“What a fucking slut.” He pulls them up, drenched in your arousal. He stays there, unmoving, looking down at you while it runs slowly down each finger.

“You really did come in here to get fucked, huh?” His fingers prod at your mouth, parting your lips. He shoves two thick digits, rubbing them against your tongue and gagging the back of your throat. He pulls them out swiftly, making his way back down to your core. His lips latch onto yours, tasting you.

Without warning, he pushes them into you, your body flinching at the forced entry. He begins working his fingers in and out slowly, stretching your quivering hole. His palm grinding against your clit.

“Such a pretty girl.” 

You force your lidded eyes open when you feel fabric in your mouth—two calloused fingers dipping forward, pushing in your lost panties. You bite down on it, looking up at him longingly.

“Hold those for me, yeah?” The squelching sounds of your pussy pulling him in while he stretches you out brings heat to your cheeks. There was no hiding how much your body desired him. Pushing himself from the mattress, he lines himself up with your entrance. 

“What if I tell her that you were outside of my room touching your pretty little pussy, huh?” He drags his cock up and down your slit, covering it with your arousal. 

“Tell her how you jerked me off under the dinner table when she was right there.” His empty threats still manage to send shocks through your body. 

“Had I known you were this much of a slut. I would have done this sooner, all you had to do was ask.” He slowly sinks into you, a ragged growl rippling past his lips. He’d opened you up just enough to slip inside, the stretch painfully slow while your insides tried to accommodate him. The veins on the underside of his cock sliding against your sensitive flesh. 

His hips roll against you, looking down at you to drink in your blissed-out face, before moving against you.

You could tell that he was rutting into you with only his release in mind. You were the one who came in wanting to make him feel good, and now you had to take responsibility with your body. 

You arched your back, trying to meet each of his thrusts. The excitement floods your veins, your mind foggy, only focusing on your breaths colliding. How perfectly his body fit with yours, swallowing his thick cock in eagerly.

Your sweaty bodies are meshing as one. Kirishima’s hips are snapping against you relentlessly. Fingers digging into your waist, using your body to meet him with each thrust. The hollow of your belly begins to tighten, cunt squeezing him tightly, hooking your legs around his waist to bring him in even closer.

“Fuck, just like that.” Your skin is tender from the bites he littered all over your body. His finger dipping down to lightly rub at your clit, giving just enough pressure to hold you at the edge. He lets out a heavy thrust, holding still inside of you, finger pressing down. The coil snaps, your cunt spasming and a choked gasp escaping. The moment shatters around you, body milking him. 

Kirishima cries out, the pressure of his load landing heavily inside of you. His body collapses on top of yours, sweaty forehead sticking to your shoulder. All that can be heard in the room are tired pants, the fabric in your mouth, sucking the saliva from your mouth. His cum is still flooding inside of your stretched out hole.

After a few moments, he pulls out of you, rolling off to the side. Cum beginning to seep out of your fluttering hole, contractions slowly withering away. You take the lace out of your mouth, throwing it off to the side. 

“I’m not tired yet, Eijirou, I want more.” You shiver, turning to face him. Now that you didn’t want to stop until your body was aching and unable to move.

“C’ mere then,” Kirishima pulls you close, planting a soft kiss to your slick forehead. His fingers dance along your skin, breathing in your scent. 

“Don’t worry, Y/n I’m not done with you yet,” he breathes against you, peppering kisses against your swollen lips.

“After all, we have the weekend alone.”

—

kinktober masterlist 

tags <3 : @linestrider​ @thirsthourdemon​ @tomurasprincess​ @katsukis-sad-angel​ @zyrielwolf​ @dabis-kitten​ 

#kirishima x reader smut #tw:incest #tw dubcon #tw somno #kirishima smut

[holdontorogers]

𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞. 𝐛.𝐛.

gif not mine, credits to owner

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠; tfatws!bucky x bartender!college!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 2,218

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲; Bucky has a secret place in Brooklyn that he found out as soon as he got his apartment after the blip: the bar you work at.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; +18 ONLY | MINORS DNI, angst, cheating (your bf/ex), hints to oral (f receiving), sex dreams, alcohol consumption, metal arm kink (i guess lol), swearing, friends on their way to lovers, unrequited feelings, mentions of college, stress, let me know if something’s missing and sorry for any typos.

𝐚/𝐧; so this was suppose to be out last weekend but headaches, college and stress delayed the process, hope you enjoy. 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐨𝐬!!!

⊱⋅ ───────── 𖥸 ────────── ⋅⊰

“So, pretty amazing what you and Captain America did the other week”, he chuckled more for himself then any other thing as he pretended to ignore the fact that you knew everything about his past — and about him, in general. 

“Yeah well, I guess it feels good to know that the shield is finally with the right person”. You gave him a nice smile and intended to say something else but someone was already calling out asking for their drink, you rolled your eyes playfully for Bucky and walked away.  

Safe to say that Bucky is way more interested in your company than the bar itself, that’s why he would come by almost everyday by the end of the night and stayed for as long as you would like. 

The bar was packed, more than usual, and Bucky pretended to ignore the fact that he was bothered by not having as much of your attention as he planned to. 

Given that between missions and your senior year in college plus all your work at the bar, sometimes visiting you while you moved around the crowded place was one of the only ways you two could spend some time together.

 “It won’t magically fill up you know?” Bucky  was so lost in his thoughts and distracted playing with the now empty beer bottle he didn’t even notice you brought him another one.

“You know I can’t get drunk right, doll?” he said with a playful smirk, “and why would I want to get you drunk?” you winked and went back to attending the other people in the bar as Bucky followed your movements with his eyes. 

He sees you quickly looking at your phone following the action by a frustrated sigh, and he immediately clenches his jaw. Your ass of a boyfriend was probably leading you on yet again on another Thursday night with some lame excuse. Bucky could not believe how poorly this man (boy) treated you. If only Bucky could have the chance to show you how you should properly be loved and cared for...

When you came back to where he stood you seemed even more annoyed.

 “Is everything okay, doll?”, you looked at him with an exhausted expression and a tension between your eyebrows, “yeah, just... can’t wait to finish up and go home, how long are you planning to stay?” Bucky furrowed his brows, were you tired of him? 

“Don’t know yet, why?” you shrugged and looked over your shoulder discreetly “that girl keeps checking you out and I don’t know, maybe you would like to take her home?” I actually would like to go home with you. Bucky could swear this suggestion was as painful to you as it was to him, but he knew that that was only his mind playing tricks with him.

 “I still don’t think I have a way with the ladies right now” your eyebrows rose in amusement and you tried to study his expression “Well, if anything, just tell her your arm vibrates”.  You winked and returned to your duties once again. Meanwhile, Bucky realized the heat in his cheeks thinking about what you said. It’s amazing how much power you had over him, as he imagined how you would react under his arms. 

How soft his right arm would be on your warm skin, how the friction between metal and warmth would drive you insane once his metal arm was touching you... He could see all the different ways that he could make you his, make you forget all the shit you go through everyday, make you feel unique and loved. 

(...)

However, Bucky saw you seemed more upset and stressed out than usual so he decided to stay. He waited until you closed the bar and helped you sort everything out. You looked once again at your phone with a much worse look than before. 

“Doll what’s wrong?” he rarely asked you about your relationship, and always did good in pretending to ignore the frustrated looks you’d constantly give to your phone. 

You met his concerned eyes and saw all his attention in you, which makes your heart soften a little. You unlocked your phone and opened a conversation with one of your friends, showing it to Bucky with watered eyes. 

When he looked at the conversation from a few days ago he used all his self control to not shatter your phone or run down to haunt the man in the pics you showed him. There was a girl pressed against the wall of a club right between your boyfriends arms, and that girl was not you.

All the anger in Bucky’s eyes settled for worry when he looked at you. He held you in his arms and ran his fingers through your hair to calm the silent tears that were falling involuntarily from your face. 

“He’s an asshole and he never deserved you.” You nodded and continued to let yourself be taken care of by Bucky, “and just tell me the words so I can gladly kick his ass”. You laughed and that felt odd, but not surprising since Bucky always brought up the best in you. You had no idea how you two became such close friends, but you were glad to have him in your life. “Thanks Buck, you’re the best friend I could have right now ”. 

As Bucky walked home after taking you home the events of the night went over his head. He was a mess of nerves, angers, worries and sadness. He knew how much you needed a friend right now. He knew how you handled your own feelings and barely talked about it. He knew it was a big deal for you to show him what was going on. And yet the thought of showing you how much better he could treat you if you saw him beyond a friend wouldn’t leave his mind. 

 ───── 

**Bucky’s lips were drawing your skin like it was meant to be there this whole time. It’s like his mouth was designed to know how to touch you in all the right spots. He would caress your skin and take such good care of you. His words were soft and yet you knew he was in control, and you loved being at his mercy. You were willing to let him do anything as long as his lips never left your body again.

Goosebumps were consuming you as he kept going lower and lower. His lips finally started to trace down your inner thighs as you whisper his name as an exasperated request. Bucky’s lips were wet and soft and hot at the same time. He smirked and finally went down to where you needed him most.**

Your heart was racing as your alarm made you jump scared instead of properly waking up. It took a while to remember where you were and what the hell was going on. You sighed when realizing you just had a dream with your best friend.

You decided to take a cool shower before starting your day, as the minutes you usually lay in bed before forcing yourself to wake up were effectively replaced with a very intense dream that led you to question all your life choices.

Your mind begins to wonder and you asked yourself if Bucky got the phone from that girl in the bar last night. You had a bothered look on your face even though you knew you should not be feeling like this.

And you shouldn’t be having these dreams as well, but it’s been so long since you’ve actually felt good.... It’s been so long since you had an orgasm. It almost felt natural to think of Bucky that way, as if the desire of having him between your legs have been there all this time just waiting for you to notice them. You shook the feeling out of your head - or at least tried to. 

You couldn’t help but think about the recent events of your life. You have been beyond busy and missed so many warning signs from your now past relationship. You left out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, biting your lips and thinking about your situation. 

You’re suddenly annoyed and wondering why the hell you stuck around in the relationship you were at. It wasn’t adding anything else to your life anymore, it wasn’t doing you any good and you were pretty sure the main reason your boyfriend has been so neglecting lately was because he was cheating on you. And you were right. Now you were a breakup hot mess drowning in work and college assignments barely making it through the days without stressing yourself out. 

As the caffeine started its magic and you were getting ready for the day, your boss texted you saying that you could have the day off. She would surely find a way to compensate for this miraculously free day you had but you wouldn’t complain. Today especially was a very much needed day for you to give yourself some tranquility. You got ready for your classes in a very comfy yet cute look that made you feel good and went out.

On your way to college you texted Bucky to see if he was available this afternoon. He was surprised to read about your day off and quickly answered back saying he would be free. You both agreed to meet at Central Park once you were done with classes. Your smile and excitement once again surprising you as your dream would not leave your mind. How would you face him? You had no idea but he was your best friend and one of the closest and greatest person in your life right now. Your frustration of a sex life would not be in the way of this friendship.

The classes went by rather quickly and you were catching up on your readings when Bucky met you at the park. The sun was starting to set and there was something about the sunset atmosphere and Bucky that made his features seem even more in evidence. You smiled and waved at him as he raised his brows and walked happily to where you were. 

“Hey doll, how’s the day been?” he seemed extremely relaxed and care-free as he tugged you in a warm hug, his cologne invading your senses and numbing you for a moment. You cleared your throat before answering him “It’s been weird” you frowned “I was called off work God knows why and I have been able to catch up on most of my readings for school so” you shrugged still surprised with how smooth things were. “So it’s been a good day?” his brows drew together in amusement, and you both started walking aimlessly through the park.

“Yeah it’s been good I guess, weird but peacefully good, what about yours?” his eyes were sparkled with excitement and he had a half smile illuminating his face “I’ve been good, I was watching that show you told me about when you texted me about your free day so, only good moments I guess” he winked as you studied his face and his genuine expression and you felt weird butterflies in your stomach — which you ignored.

“So how do you like Friends?” you poked him teasingly and he smiled “It’s a good show, Alpine and I have good laughs, but I don’t know I feel like it’s something that should be shared you know? I bet watching with someone would make it a hundred times better”. Bucky looked at you as if you should’ve read something between the lines.

You would usually take his words lightly and never question their meanings, but tonight was different. You could almost feel something in the air. You were absolutely sure that it was all on your head but... Something about the way Bucky always looked at you in such admiration and softness. You could spend all of your days studying his expressions and getting to know him. Life may not have been kind to him but kindness was all you knew when it came to James “Bucky” Barnes. 

He cleared his throat and caught your attention. Yep, you were staring at him instead of thinking about an answer. “Sorry doll, I just meant — ” Bucky read your silence as an awkward moment but you were quick to stop him “No! You were right! Friends is absolutely better when you watch with people... I’m sorry, I’ve been a little distracted that’s all” you smiled at him hoping he would take your answer and not think too much about this. Bucky thought you were distant and quiet because of what he found out last night, but the truth was that you couldn’t look at him without thinking about your dream. 

Every single time your eyes met his or that you accidentally touched him was like an electric wave washed over you. The memories you created in your sleep would not leave you as Bucky would do normal things like, winking when telling a joke, wetting or biting his lips. Every little action made you hold out on reacting in a way that would ruin your friendship for good.

Crossing a line with Bucky would be a bad idea, wouldn’t it? 

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes oneshots #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes headcanon

[authenticmiya]

Hey, how are you ?!!

I love your imagines !!

I was wondering if you could do one with Johnny Lawrence of 84!

It's a suggestion 🥺

He had a secret crush on Tommy's best friend, Y / N, so he wanted to talk to her, but was afraid he just ended his relationship with Alli. And he knew that she didn't want a relationship now, due to the various traumas that occurred, so much so that the day comes that he decides to tell his feelings!

🥺🥺😘

My Girl - Johnny Lawrence x Reader

Summary - Reader and Tommy have been best friends since they could remember. Alongside Tommy, came the Cobra Kai’s. Meaning a certain blonde hair, blue eyed karate student, had his eyes on you.

Words - 2.1k

Warnings - mentions of toxic past relationships, fluff, angst.

A/N - I’m great Thankyou, how are you? Thankyou so much for sending in your suggestion! Anyone can feel free to send in any requests!

To everyone else, you were one of the prettiest girls in school. Curvy, honest, caring, nurturing. You weren't the typical 'popular girl' who'd turn her nose up at other groups of students, and that's why you were so loved.

You lived at home alongside your older sister. Your parents tended to business all over the country, meaning it was usually just the two of you. The two of you were very close, and supported each-other through everything, just like how you and your best friend, Tommy.

"So tell me again why you didn't want to go to the beach tonight? All of your Cobra Kai's are there." Y/S/N plopped herself next to you on the couch.

"Can't I enjoy a peaceful night in with my sister?" You smirked and she rolled her eyes.

"Okay fine, Ali's there." You groaned.

"So what? She's your best friend Y/N?"

"No she was my best friend, she's been talking shit about the Cobra's - even Tommy. I get that her and Johnny aren't together anymore, but I've gotta look out for my boys." You admitted, throwing popcorn into your mouth.

"Your boys? You mean Johnny is your boy? The guy has had the hots for you since you were ten." She stated and now it was your turn to roll your eyes.

"Then why did he date Ali?" You questioned.

"Oh baby sister, you have so much to learn. It's obvious that he wasn't going to ask you out before her. You'd just come out of a sticky relationship." You shivered at the thought of your past.

"I get you were young and in love with that jackass, but just because you were young, doesn't mean he had the right to hit you left, right and centre." Maybe she was right, you hadn't really let your guard down with anybody after that.

"Let's not bring that up please." You told her.

"The only thing stopping you two from growing old together, is the fact that Tommy is practically like your big brother. He'd flip a table." Your sister grinned. Speaking of Cobra's, you heard some motorcycles pull up outside your house.

"Snakes in three, two, one." Your sister counted down and then your door knocked.

"Your hair looks a mess." You admitted to Tommy, ruffling up his hair as he walked into your home.

"Honesty is the best policy Y/L/N." Bobby laughed.

"What the hell happened to you?" You questioned Johnny, noticing how flustered and sad he looked.

"Lover boy had his first dosage of heartbreak tonight at the beach." Bobby called out to you from the kitchen.

"Yeah nice one man, thanks!" Johnny said sarcastically, making his way through your house. You shot your sister a confused look, and she just shrugged her shoulders.

"Tommy, your ass better not be eating my leftover pizza!" Your sister shouted and that's exactly what he was doing.

"I appreciate that I'm not having to fix any of your faces tonight guys, but what exactly do you want?" You asked them, grabbing some lemonade from the fridge.

"Well sweet-heart, there's a new kid on the block, Daniel Larusso. He was flirting with Ali." Tommy stole your drink from your hand.

"And how do you feel about that?" You asked Johnny.

"She wouldn't talk to me, so I broke her radio and gave him a seek in assist the old fashioned way." Johnny admitted.

"I take it he's not as good at Karate as you then Johnny?" You joked, trying to make light of the conversation.

"The sexual tension in this room is making me gag." Your sister shoved passed you and grabbed a drink from the refrigerator.

"You're delusional." You muttered.

"I'm sure you'll be lucky with Larusso if you haven't already made a pass at Johnny." Bobby joked, but none of you laughed.

"Like hell man, watch your damn mouth." Johnny snapped.

"Dude seriously?" Tommy glared at him.

"I was joking, come on guys." Bobby tried to defend himself and you all ignored him.

"Quit being mean so Bobby, he just wanted to be apart of the comedian club." You snickered, making everybody burst into laughter.

"I take it you guys are staying the night?" Your sister asked them all.

"It's an annual thing, so if you don't mind?" Tommy smiled.

"Dude, the three of you have sleepovers everyday of the week. It's a fucking daily thing at this rate." Your sister laughed, heading up the stairs to sort the sleeping arrangements out.

Once the beds were ready to go, everyone seemed fairly tired and headed upstairs.

"Y/N wait-" Johnny stopped you from outside your room. Unbeknownst to him that his two friends, and your sister were eavesdropping.

"Can I please talk to you? I kinda need a girl's help, and well you get Tommy through a lot of shit.." He began to rant and you stopped him.

"Calm down Johnny, let's talk." You ushered him into your room, and he laid on your bed, leaning against the bed frame.

"I didn't really know how to say it front of everyone, but you know what a breakup is like. How'd you get over it?" Johnny sighed and you frowned.

"I don't think I ever really got over it because of what he did to me. I'd like to have said I turned into some badass overnight but I didn't. It takes time, and the two of you only broke up a couple of weeks ago. The whole situation is still raw and you have to allow yourself time to heal." You admitted to him.

He couldn't help but stare at you, take in all of your perfections as you we're giving him advice.

"Young love is a load of ass Y/N. She didn't even care about what I had to say tonight." Johnny frowned and it really did look like he was about to cry.

"Jokes on her Johnny, because any girl should be blessed to have you." You smiled, making his stomach erupt into a million butterflies.

"I really appreciate that." He whispered, slowly leaning in, but you leaned back.

"I'm so sorry if you thought that's where I was going with this Johnny, I don't think either of us are ready for that just yet." You coughed out, not really sure how to deal with it.

"No I'm sorry Y/N, I shouldn't have done that. Shit." Johnny was quick to scramble out of your room, and it took you a few moments to comprehend the situation.

Chasing after him and staying in your room  were your thoughts for the night. You knew he'd probably be embarrassed, so you didn't wanna push that any further. But he wanted to kiss you. Was that because he wanted to use you as a rebound? To get over his eventful evening with his ex? You had no idea. Or was it because he had now genuinely come to terms of how he really felt towards you?

“Wake your ass up!” Tommy screamed as the morning sunshine came through your curtains.

“Tommy I’m giving you five seconds to get the heck out of my room, or I’m going to smack you silly.” You yawned, suddenly realising it was your first day back for senior year.

“You weren’t saying that to Johnny when he tried to kiss you last night.” Tommy whispered, and your eyes nearly fell out of your head.

“Your secrets safe with me sleepy head, but he wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t mean it.” Tommy gave you a half-hearted smile and left you alone.

“One year to make it all work Y/N.” You muttered, throwing on some clothes to start your senior year.

“The queen has finally made her entrance.” Tommy laughed, handing you a plate of pancakes.

“You look beautiful Y/N.” Bobby smiled, making Johnny clench his jaw.

“Wow it finally looks like a cat hasn’t dragged you through a bush.” Y/S/N ruffled up your hair.

“Well now if does.” You groaned, flattening your hair back out. Time was ticking and it was soon time for school.

“Have a good day you guys!” Your sister waved you all off. It was as if the Cobra’s had it planned all along, because Tommy and Bobby were quick to drive away on their motor-cycles, leaving you and Johnny.

“Can I pitch a ride please?” You asked Johnny with hopeful eyes.

“Of course.” He smiled lightly.

“Can we please talk about last night?” You asked and his smile soon faded.

“We’ve gotta get to school.” You nodded at him, before sitting behind him. The journey to school wasn’t long at all, and it was typical for you to spend your morning alongside the Cobra Kai’s motorcycles.

“I don’t want things to be awkward Johnny, you’re one of my best friends. I’ve got a lot of issues, despite how happy I come across. Maybe one day we can make a thing of us?” You suggested and he had nothing to say.

And so that’s how was it was like, for a very long few weeks after that. Johnny hadn’t said a lot to you, and it slowly made you realise, that you didn’t know what you had, until it started to go away.

“Johnny still not talking to you?” Tommy asked, as the two of you walked together in front of the Cobra Kai’s. You turned around, but Johnny avoided eye contact before turning around the corner to his class.

“He’s insanely in love with you Y/N, I guess he’s just scared.” In love? Come again?

“In love with me, why would you say that?” You asked.

“Trust me, I know.” The two of you continued walking towards your classroom, when you were stopped by a certain Daniel Larusso.

As Johnny was walking to class, he couldn’t help let the overwhelming sense of guilt override him.

“What’s going on with you and Y/N dude?” Bobby asked one of his best friends.

“I don’t know myself man.” Johnny responded.

“You two are so damn love blind.” Bobby groaned in annoyance that his two friends still hadn’t made moves on each-other.

“I can’t push the boundaries again, it’s obvious she’s afraid to be with someone new, and I don’t want to upset her.” Johnny admitted.

“That’s the thing though Johnny, you’re not someone new. Everyone knows about what happened with her ex, and you can be the one to make her trust again.” Bobby’s words were so convincing.

“I’ve gotta go and get my girl.” Johnny shoved his books into Bobby’s hands and rushed back to the other hallway you were in with Tommy. But Bobby didn’t stop there, of course he was going to watch the scene unfold.

“What the hell do you want Larusso?” Tommy stood protectively in front of you.

“You need to sort your boyfriend out Y/N, his attitude is kind of stinky.” Daniel teased.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You muttered.

“I think he’s about to be.” Tommy noticed Johnny heading over to the two of you.

“Get the hell away from my girl, punk.” Johnny shoved Daniel out of the way, and you bit the inside of your cheek anxiously - not wanting your first day back to end up in a fight.

“Why does everyone think I’m you girlfriend?” You asked Johnny.

“Because I’ve waited so damn long to be able to call you mine Y/N, and I don’t want him taking you away from me, like he did with everything else.” Johnny admitted his feelings, regardless of everybody around him.

“Johnny what are you talking about?” You asked him.

“I’m not him Y/N. I will never be him. I think, I think I love you.” Johnny stepped forward and this time, you allowed him to kiss you. You felt yourself melting on the inside. Cheers and claps echoed through the school hallway as the bell rang.

“What do you say Y/N, will you please be my girlfriend?” He asked, lacing his hands with yours.

“Of course.” You blushed, wrapping your arms around him, and he felt the instant sigh of relief.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous.” You whispered.

“I was so not jealous, I was about to beat Larusso’s ass.” Johnny told you seriously.

“I think you’re forgetting about what Tommy might do to you.” You chuckled, looking over at your best friend and his attempt to look angry.

“It’s not half of the things that I’m going to do to you.” Johnny smirked. You could finally be free of your past, you finally had your man, and boy was he worth the wait.

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