#A MOMENT OF NORMALCY. JUST ONE I BEG.

[fightwing]

Two panels i have not been able to stop thinking about are:

And:

If there’s one thing tita.ns (2008) had its the audacity

[hiraethwrote]

sidelines

cw: f!reader, hurt/no comfort, reader gets injured, semi proofread wc: 1.1k

meeting you was a coincidence. falling in love with you was an accident. distancing from you was a choice.

satoru still remembered the flash of heartbreak that washed over your face when he had served you a lie; i think we’re better off as friends.

it would always be carved into his mind — the sharp breath you took to settle yourself, blinking away the shy tears before you had nodded along weakly. “oh, okay.” it had barely been a whisper, but your tone would forever haunt him.

he knew it was for the best, keeping you at arms length no matter how much he hated it.

some part of him had always suspected he might have to sacrifice the experience of true love, and therefore he had never pursued it. the target on his back was just too big to be worth the risk.

nonetheless, you had come into his life like the season’s first fall of snow — unexpected.

and whatever you had done, he had fallen completely in the matter of mere moments, because when you looked at him you had seen satoru… just satoru.

when he was with you, he didn’t need to be the strongest. he wasn’t the heir to the gojo clan. he wasn’t the first sorcerer in centuries born with the six eyes.

no, when he was with you, he was satoru, the guy who hummed quietly when your fingers brushed through his hair. he was satoru, the guy who caused you frustration when he yet again forgot to bring your favourite drink that you had requested, turning in the door as quickly as he has arrived to go get it. he was satoru, the guy who was finally starting to enjoy the quiet normalcy of everyday life.

how naive you had made him.

because he had slowly started to believe that he could take a moment to breath when it came to his responsibilities, simply wallow in the warmth of your natural compassion and affection. he could lean into the soft touch of your hand and for a second forget what rested on his shoulders.

how wrong he had been, when you had accidentally found yourself witness, and also collateral damage, to one of his encounters with curses.

it happened so quickly, he hadn’t even noticed the action itself until he saw your unmoving body on the ground. never had satoru been as scared as he was the moment his eyes landed on you, certain his own heart stopped at the sight.

he quickly exorcised the troubling curses before rushing over to you, kneeling beside your unconscious body. with utmost care, he had swooped you into his arms, holding his breath as he checked for a pulse, not trusting any of his abilities to tell him, needing to physically feel the faint pumping at the side of your neck.

it felt like an entire lifetime passed before he found the soft signs of life, instantly letting out a shaky breath when he could finally confirm with his own flesh that you were still breathing.

with a bruised and bloody hand, he carefully brushed your hair out of your face to reveal a rather severe gash across your forehead.

he breathed your name, waiting to see the reactive, light raise of your eyebrows that happened subconsciously whenever he spoke the sweet tune. but your face stayed completely still, not even a single twitch in your eyelids to indicate you were waking up.

next thing he knew, he was stood in front of shoko with you in his arms, begging her to help you.

“it’s not severe,” shoko tried to reassure him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder while he sat at your bedside. “you can even take her home.”

he’d only nodded in confirmation, not daring to take his eyes off of you. he wanted to be the first thing you saw when your eyes eventually fluttered open — he was not going to miss that moment for anything.

and while he waited, he was deep in thought. churning and chewing on how best to prevent you from ever getting hurt again.

he had been lucky this time, but there was no guarantee it would end as well as it did next time, and he would stop at nothing to ensure your safety. but every idea he came up with ended with the same heartbreaking conclusion.

because the incident had him realise you were his one and only weakness — that meant you would always be in danger.

it was only a matter of time before you would not be his secret anymore. eventually it was bound to be a common fact in the jujutsu world, that there was one way to have the strongest sorcerer at their mercy.

satoru would not be able to live with himself if that was the case.

the safest thing for you was to break your heart — tell you that it wasn’t working. he had just been caught up in the intensity of the honeymoon phase, swept up in the comfort you had provided. which was all true, the lie was saying those feelings had passed.

but he was the strongest — who better to protect you than him? so the earnest preposition of friendship had been his way of being able to keep an eye on you without directly exposing you to the dangers of his world.

now his future was destined to be nothing but torture.

he would eventually see the sparkle in your eye return when you finally got over him. and when that happened, which he knew it would, he waited in despair for the day you would fall in love again.

you would trail your fingers through the hair of a person that wasn’t him. your eyes would stare hearts at a face that wasn’t his. at night, when you were sound asleep, your breathing would move in unison with someone who was not him — but you would be safe, shied away from the world he was forever trapped to serve.

satoru would torture himself for eternity, be a helpless audience in the theatre of your life, watch you indulge in all the happiness life had to offer, if it meant he wouldn’t put you in danger.

after meeting you, satoru had learned he wasn’t really a person meant to love from a distance. the love he had for you was all over him, supposed to be loaded onto the one person it belonged to; you. his devotion for you was so big and all consuming, filling any void he found himself in.

but if it was from the sidelines he would get to see you live — it was in the sidelines he would stay.

a/n sorry

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[thedensworld]

Flower Bloomed | K.Mg

Pairing: Mingyu x reader

Genre: angst, romance, marriage AU

Summary: it's been a year since Mingyu and you were married. Once united by a good feeling, has started to scatter, both you and Mingyu couldn't find reason to stay together.

Author note: mention of abortion, miscarriage, murder, depression, divorcee. Don't hate me after this because i prepared one more part hehe.. Also, don't blame my baby boomer ass, i don't understand how to tag people TT

Part 2 of Falling Flower

***

"It's been a long time..." The words hung heavily in the air, mingling with the clatter of utensils in the expansive dining room of Kim's Family estate. The atmosphere was tense, palpable even in the silence that enveloped the room. No one dared to speak, their thoughts weighed down by an unspoken topic that lingered, begging to be addressed but forcibly restrained within their minds.

Mingyu, ever observant, had noticed the tension the moment you and he stepped into the room. His gaze flickered over the faces of those present, catching glimpses of suppressed emotions and silent pleas for release. Yet, he chose to remain silent, opting instead to watch the subtle shifts in your expression, which spoke volumes of your desire to escape this suffocating atmosphere.

You cast furtive glances around the room, your eyes betraying a silent plea for someone to break the stifling silence. But as the seconds ticked by, it became apparent that the weight of unspoken words held everyone in its grip, chaining their tongues and stifling any attempt at conversation.

The clatter of utensils seemed to echo louder in the silence, punctuating the tension that hung heavy in the air. Each clang reverberated through the room, a stark reminder of the unresolved emotions simmering just beneath the surface.

Despite the urge to flee, you remained rooted to your seat, your discomfort etched into every line of your face. Mingyu watched you closely, his own expression a mirror of your silent distress, yet bound by some unspoken agreement to maintain the facade of normalcy.

In the midst of this oppressive silence, the unspoken topic loomed large, casting a shadow over the room and stifling any attempts at casual conversation. It was a burden that weighed heavily on each person present, a weight that threatened to crush them under its unrelenting pressure.

And so, the minutes stretched on, each one filled with the deafening sound of silence and the unspoken words that hung suspended in the air. In the vast expanse of Kim's Family dining room, the absence of conversation spoke volumes, revealing more about the tangled web of emotions than any words ever could.

"The last time you joined us was New Year's Eve, and it's August now." Mingyu's hand faltered mid-cut, his gaze lifting to meet his mother's eyes as she voiced what had been weighing on everyone's mind since your unexpected appearance. He was poised to intercede, ready to defend you with the excuse of your busy schedule and your efforts to carve out time for today. Yet, he was caught off guard when you spoke up in your own defense, your words ringing out unexpectedly, "I'm sorry, it won't happen again."

Mingyu's father intervened, seeking to diffuse the tension that had settled over the table like a heavy fog. "Forget it. Y/n is with us today, and we should celebrate it," he declared, his voice carrying a note of finality as he attempted to steer the conversation onto a more positive path.

"Thank you, father," you responded softly, a hint of relief lacing your words as you acknowledged his attempt to ease the strained atmosphere. But beneath the surface, a whirlwind of emotions churned, a mix of guilt, regret, and a longing for acceptance that lingered unspoken between the lines of your apology.

Mingyu watched the exchange with a furrowed brow, his thoughts a tumultuous jumble as he grappled with conflicting emotions. He wanted to defend you, to shield you from the judgmental stares and whispered criticisms that hung heavy in the air. Yet, he also understood the weight of expectations that bore down upon you, the pressure to conform to the standards set by his family, even at the expense of your own happiness.

As the conversation shifted, Mingyu's gaze flickered between you and his family, a silent plea for understanding passing between them. In that moment, he wished for nothing more than to bridge the divide that separated you, to mend the fractured bonds that threatened to tear you apart. But he knew that such reconciliation would not come easily, that it would require patience, understanding, and a willingness to confront the underlying tensions that simmered beneath the surface.

Mingyu found himself sinking into the plush cushions of his father's office couch, the weight of the evening's tension still heavy upon his shoulders. Dinner had been a bitter affair, marked by a palpable silence that hung like a dark cloud over the table. Mingyu couldn't help but feel the weight of everyone's unspoken thoughts, knowing all too well that your presence after an extended absence had cast a shadow over the evening.

As his father poured two glasses of whiskey and handed one to him, Mingyu accepted it with a grateful nod, the amber liquid offering a fleeting sense of solace in the midst of the swirling emotions that threatened to engulf him. With each sip, he felt the tension in his muscles begin to ease, though the knot of apprehension in his stomach remained stubbornly intact.

Then, his father's question cut through the stillness of the room like a knife, jolting Mingyu out of his thoughts. "Why is she here?" he asked, his tone laden with a mix of curiosity and thinly veiled disapproval as he gestured towards you.

Mingyu hesitated, his mind racing as he searched for the right words to convey the complexity of the situation. He knew that his father's question carried with it a weighty implication, a silent challenge to justify your presence in the midst of familial discord.

"She didn't even come to Minseo's wedding last month," Mingyu's father remarked, his tone laced with a mixture of disappointment and frustration. Mingyu let out a weary sigh, the weight of his father's words settling heavily upon him. It was yet another reminder of the growing chasm between you and his family, a divide that seemed to widen with each passing day.

"I thought you didn't bother at all," Mingyu interjected, his voice tinged with a hint of defensiveness as he braced himself for his father's response.

His father shrugged nonchalantly, though there was a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "I was," he admitted begrudgingly, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability beneath the facade of indifference. "But the more I think about it, the weirder it becomes."

Mingyu furrowed his brow in confusion, struggling to decipher his father's cryptic words. "What do you mean?" he asked, his curiosity piqued despite his reservations.

"I know you two sleep separately," his father stated matter-of-factly, the blunt revelation sending a jolt of surprise coursing through Mingyu's veins. There was no attempt to mask the source of his knowledge; it was clear that Mingyu's maid had betrayed their secret, laying bare the truth for all to see.

Mingyu felt a surge of anger and embarrassment rising within him, the sting of betrayal cutting deep as he grappled with the implications of his father's words. He had hoped to shield you from the judgmental eyes of his family, to preserve some semblance of privacy in the midst of their scrutiny. Yet, it seemed that their secrets were no longer safe, laid bare for all to see in the harsh light of his father's scrutiny.

As Mingyu struggled to find his voice amidst the swirling tide of emotions, he couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal, both by his father's lack of discretion and by the revelation of their private affairs.

"I'm going to divorce her," Mingyu finally uttered, breaking the heavy silence that hung between him and his father like a suffocating shroud. His words echoed in the air, carrying with them the weight of a decision that had been looming over him for far too long.

His father's response was immediate, a mixture of surprise and skepticism etched into the lines of his face. "Are you sure? Didn't you marry her to gain leverage at JIS Corp?" he questioned, his tone betraying a hint of doubt as he sought to understand Mingyu's sudden change of heart.

Mingyu nodded, the admission hanging heavy on his conscience. "Yeah... At first," he admitted reluctantly, the weight of his confession settling like a stone in the pit of his stomach. "But I don't think it's worth it anymore. Her mother still runs the company anyway."

His father's expression softened, a flicker of understanding passing between them as they both acknowledged the futility of clinging to a marriage built on ulterior motives. "She's a bad person," his father murmured, his words tinged with bitterness as he echoed Mingyu's unspoken sentiments.

Mingyu couldn't help but agree, the memories of your mother-in-law's manipulative tactics and ruthless ambition still fresh in his mind. But as he cast a sideways glance at his father, he couldn't shake the nagging sense of guilt that gnawed at his conscience.

"She raised one too," Mingyu whispered under his breath, his words barely audible above the low hum of the room. But they fell on deaf ears, lost amidst the weight of their shared silence and the unspoken truths that lingered between them.

*

"How's the baby?" you asked, breaking the awkward silence that hung heavily between you and Minseo. Her hand instinctively went to her growing stomach as she replied, "She's alright," her words tinged with discomfort.

The distance between you was palpable, a stark reminder of the rift that had formed between you over time. The secrecy surrounding your families and your marriage to her brother had only served to deepen the divide, leaving your once-close friendship strained and distant.

Dongmin, Minseo's husband, approached with a plate of fruit, silently acknowledging the need for privacy between you and Minseo. As he retreated, Minseo cleared her throat, her gaze flickering between you as she struggled to find the right words to break the icy tension that hung between you.

In the pregnant pause that followed, Minseo's mind raced, torn between the desire to address the elephant in the room and the fear of opening old wounds. She knew all too well the reasons for your prolonged absence, but your sudden presence tonight had stirred up a sense of unease within her.

As she pondered her next move between bites of fruit, Minseo couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension that gnawed at her insides. The weight of unspoken truths and unresolved emotions hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the once vibrant connection you shared.

In that moment, Minseo found herself grappling with a myriad of conflicting emotions, longing for the closeness you once shared even as the distance between you seemed insurmountable. But as she looked into your eyes, she couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation, unsure of what lay ahead for the fractured friendship that had once meant so much to both of you.

"Are you still working with Mr. Choi?" Minseo finally asked, breaking the strained silence that hung between you. You nodded your head in response, the motion almost automatic as you struggled to meet her gaze.

Minseo couldn't help but feel a pang of surprise at the confirmation. It seemed like just yesterday when her brother had excitedly announced his intention to marry you, catching her off guard with the suddenness of it all. In the blink of an eye, you had gone from being her best friend to her sister-in-law, and the whirlwind of emotions that followed left her reeling.

She remembered flying back to South Korea for the wedding, watching from the sidelines as you and her brother exchanged vows, a smile plastered on your face as you posed for pictures with friends and family. But beneath the facade of happiness, Minseo couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of her stomach.

As time passed, the once-close bond between you and Minseo began to fray, the demands of work and the pressures of marriage driving a wedge between you. The dinners and events that once brought you together became fewer and farther between, until eventually, you stopped attending altogether.

For Minseo, the sudden silence was deafening, leaving her to wonder what had gone wrong between you. She had tried reaching out, hoping to bridge the growing distance between you, but her attempts had been met with silence, leaving her to grapple with the painful realization that the friendship she had cherished for so long was slipping away.

And now, as she sat across from you, the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the once vibrant connection you shared. In that moment, Minseo couldn't help but wonder where it had all gone wrong, and whether there was any hope of salvaging what was left of the bond that had once meant everything to her.

Mingyu approached, breaking the icy silence between you and Minseo with the simple declaration that it was time to head home. The drive wasn't far from where your conversation with Minseo had left off, but a chill lingered in your body, causing you to shudder involuntarily. Mingyu, seated beside you, remained motionless, perhaps due to the effects of the drinks he'd had at his parents' place. Yet, his sight had been closed off for months now; he hadn't truly seen you in all that time.

Once back at Mingyu's place, he left you in the living room without a word, disappearing into his room after a brief reminder about the charity ball hosted by Seungcheol's parents tomorrow. You trudged wearily to your own room, conveniently situated next to his, and locked the door behind you. Exhaustion weighed heavily on your limbs, a stark contrast to the lively dinner at Mingyu's parents' home earlier. Each step felt like a burden, as if carrying the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions.

"People in the company gossip about your relationship," Mingyu's mother words echoed in your mind, each syllable carrying the weight of a thousand whispers. "They even mentioned that you two are apart since March."

The rumor hung heavy in the air, suffocating the truth beneath layers of speculation and hearsay. Mingyu's mother insistence cut through the silence, a reminder of the urgent need to silence the falsehoods. "If you want to shut them up, you need to stop the rumor," she urged, her voice tinged with frustration and concern.

"You two should try to have a child again."

As you sat at your office desk, the weight of the accusations bore down on you, mingling with the scattered fragments of your daydream. Your gaze lingered on your boss's schedule for the upcoming weekend, but your thoughts were elsewhere, consumed by the relentless knocking on your door.

You realized with a jolt that you had locked the door earlier, and the persistent rapping could only mean one thing – Mingyu's arrival. With a deep breath, you prepared to face the confrontation, the anticipation building in your chest like a storm on the horizon.

"Wait a minute," you said, pausing mid-step as you rushed to open the door. Mingyu stood before you, his eyes betraying a hint of worry. He cleared his throat, quickly composing himself before asking if he could come into your room. You made room for him, allowing him to enter, and he settled onto the couch near your bed with a heavy sigh.

"I have something to tell you," he began, his tone serious as he handed you a piece of paper. Your eyes scanned the words, and a wave of unexpected realization washed over you. You looked up at Mingyu, silently demanding an explanation. He nervously bit his lip before speaking, his words laden with a mix of regret and resignation.

"This marriage... it has no reason to continue," he confessed, his gaze meeting yours with a sense of finality. You couldn't help but agree, feeling the weight of truth settle upon your shoulders.

"We rushed into this too quickly a year ago," he continued, his voice tinged with sadness. "We've lost the reason for it. And... I don't think either of us ever truly loved each other. Perhaps... I've fallen out of love too."

The words hung heavy in the air, a somber acknowledgment of the reality you both faced. As you sat on the edge of the bed, emotions swirling within you, you couldn't help but wonder how things had come to this point. It was a bittersweet realization, but one that needed to be acknowledged nonetheless.

You contemplated asking if there was someone else, but you quashed the thought, clenching your lips to stifle any potentially hurtful words. A heavy sigh escaped you, the reality sinking in sooner than anticipated.

"I thought we had another year," you murmured, the weight of the prenuptial agreement pressing on your mind. The contract stipulated a minimum of two years of marriage before considering divorce—a promise you both made before exchanging vows. Yet here you were, facing the prospect of dissolution, initiated not by you, but by Mingyu himself.

"I'm going to take responsibility for that," Mingyu uttered, his words hanging in the air, a mixture of regret and resignation evident in his tone.

Your gaze fixated once more on the divorce papers, each line a cruel reminder of shattered dreams and broken promises. Your head spun with disbelief; this wasn't the life you had envisioned just a year ago. Memories flooded in—of your childhood home, your mother's unwavering support, and the daunting uncertainty that awaited you beyond the confines of this crumbling marriage.

"How about my rights? My mother won't give up on me before our two-year anniversary," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the weight of disappointment.

He bowed his head, his expression pained with apology. "I'm sorry..."

In that moment, Kim Mingyu became the living embodiment of abandonment. It was a stark realization that perhaps, in this cold and unforgiving world, no one truly cared about you. As the weight of loneliness settled upon your shoulders, you couldn't help but feel betrayed by the very person you once believed would be your lifelong companion.

*

Months had passed since the last time he had seen you dress up, and as you approached him in the living room, clad in a long, enticing red dress that hugged your curves, he was reminded of just how much he had missed the sight of you all dolled up. He rose from the couch, urgency flickering in his eyes, gesturing for you to hurry as the event awaited, yet you both remained within the confines of your home.

As Mingyu prepared to step out of the entrance, you halted him with a subtle hand gesture, drawing him closer as you deftly adjusted his tie and smoothed down his suit. The sudden proximity caught him off guard, his breath catching in his throat as he felt the warmth of your body pressed against his. The scent of your perfume enveloped him, a familiar yet intoxicating aroma that never failed to stir something deep within him, a reminder of his adoration for you.

Upon arrival, the atmosphere crackled with a palpable surprise that mirrored the astonishment seen on Mingyu's family's faces during last night's dinner. Your unexpected presence amidst the socialite crowd stirred whispers and raised eyebrows, the subject of endless speculation and gossip during your absence from such gatherings.

As Mingyu guided you through the room, his hand lingering possessively around your waist, it was a scene reminiscent of days gone by, a familiar tableau that seemed to defy the rumors swirling around your relationship. The sight of the two of you together, united against the backdrop of societal expectations, left many gaping in disbelief.

Approaching Seungcheol, the host of the event and Mingyu's best friend, Mingyu couldn't help but notice the genuine warmth in your smile as Seungcheol greeted you both with enthusiasm. With a gentle tug, you were whisked away by Seungcheol's wife to mingle with other socialites, leaving Mingyu to engage in conversation with Seungcheol and Jeon Wonwoo, his trusted confidant from college.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Kim Mingyu. I don't like your wife's mood at work today," Seungcheol bluntly expressed, finally voicing the concern that had been weighing on his mind since his interactions with you earlier that morning.

Wonwoo's eyebrows shot up in acknowledgment, recognizing the unique influence Mingyu held over the situation. "Only Mingyu could manage that," he remarked, a subtle nod to your exceptional professionalism and dedication as Seungcheol's trusted secretary.

Mingyu's sigh resonated with a sense of resignation, his shoulders slumping slightly under the weight of Seungcheol's observation. "I haven't done anything," he admitted wearily, the frustration evident in his voice as he sought refuge in the simple act of sipping his wine, a temporary respite from the complexities of the situation.

Wonwoo's gaze bored into Mingyu, who nervously swallowed his saliva. The tension between them was palpable, Mingyu's discomfort evident in every shift of his weight. He despised Wonwoo's uncanny ability to read people, a skill that made him feel exposed and vulnerable.

Mingyu believed that Seungcheol, their mutual friend, was oblivious to the true nature of his marriage. He trusted that Seungcheol saw only what he wanted to see: a seemingly happy couple. After all, Seungcheol had witnessed firsthand how formidable you could be when dealing with Mingyu's shortcomings.

But Wonwoo was a different breed altogether. He possessed a keen intuition, capable of detecting even the slightest hint of deception. From the moment Mingyu had confessed his impending marriage, Wonwoo had sensed something amiss.

"Did you knock somebody?" Wonwoo's first sentence upon hearing Mingyu's announcement cut through the air like a knife, sharp and unforgiving. It was a direct challenge, a probing inquiry designed to unearth the truth buried beneath Mingyu's carefully constructed facade.

As Mingyu stood before Wonwoo, his facade crumbled under the weight of scrutiny, his discomfort laid bare for all to see. He could feel the weight of Wonwoo's gaze bearing down on him, exposing his innermost fears and insecurities. In that moment, Mingyu realized that he could never truly escape Wonwoo's penetrating gaze, nor could he hide the truth from someone who could smell deception from a mile away.

Once Seungcheol was called away by his parents, Mingyu swore he felt a shiver run down his spine as Wonwoo spoke. "What's with her presence tonight? I feel like something's up." The intensity of Wonwoo's observation sent a chill through Mingyu, his nerves already frayed from the tension between them.

Shaking his head, Mingyu cautioned his friend, "Don't jinx anything or it'll happen." He knew all too well the power of suggestion, especially when it came from someone as perceptive as Wonwoo.

But Wonwoo merely scoffed at Mingyu's warning. "I'm relieved I'm not married. Married men are sensitive, just look at Seungcheol hyung." He gestured towards the older man with a knowing smirk, emphasizing his point.

Mingyu nodded in agreement, taking a sip of his wine to mask his unease. "You're right. Don't get married," he replied, the weight of his own marital struggles weighing heavily on his mind.

Wonwoo's smirk only widened at Mingyu's response. "Got you!" he declared triumphantly, reveling in his ability to tease his friend mercilessly. The playful banter between them did little to ease Mingyu's apprehension, however, as he couldn't shake the feeling that Wonwoo saw right through him, unraveling his secrets with every word exchanged.

Mingyu let out a curse under his breath, his frustration evident as he averted his gaze from his friend. His eyes landed on your figure standing a few feet away, engrossed in conversation with an unfamiliar man. Mingyu's brow furrowed in concern as he turned back to Wonwoo.

"Who's that?" he asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.

Wonwoo followed Mingyu's gaze to where you stood, conversing with the stranger. "Ah, that's Lee Seokmin," Wonwoo explained, his tone casual. "He's the son of Dr. Lee from Seoul University Hospital. I heard he's also a doctor."

Mingyu's frown deepened. "Why is he talking to Y/n?" Mingyu's protective instincts kicked in, his mind racing with questions and scenarios.

Wonwoo shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe they know each other," he suggested. "I've heard Seokmin is a really friendly and affectionate person. He's quite charming, from what I've heard."

Mingyu's unease grew as he watched the interaction between you and Seokmin, his gut twisting with a mixture of jealousy and concern. Despite Wonwoo's attempt to ease his worries, Mingyu couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the encounter than met the eye.

Mingyu's brows furrowed deeply, his dislike evident in the creases of his forehead and the tension in his jaw. He couldn't help but feel a pang of unease at the sight of you conversing so effortlessly with another man. It was rare for you to befriend anyone outside your small circle, especially a man. As far as Mingyu knew, your only close friend was Minseo, and you rarely had any male friends aside from colleagues from work.

Mingyu had been prepared to approach you after handing his glass to Wonwoo. However, his intentions were abruptly halted when a groan echoed from the other side of the room, followed by urgent voices calling for a doctor. Mingyu's heart skipped a beat as he turned to see his father slumped into a colleague's arms, clutching his chest in pain. It was happening again—his father's heart troubles.

Without a moment's hesitation, Mingyu sprang into action, his adrenaline kicking in as he rushed to his father's side. Ignoring the curious gazes and the frantic murmurs around him, he focused solely on his father's well-being. With trembling hands, he called out for someone to dial the emergency number, his voice cutting through the chaos of the room.

Fear and urgency flooded Mingyu's senses as he knelt beside his father, his heart pounding in his chest. In that moment, nothing else mattered to him except ensuring his father received the help he desperately needed.

As Mingyu knelt by his father's side, panic and desperation etched on his face, you and Seokmin approached. Seokmin wasted no time in announcing himself as a doctor, offering his assistance in the tense situation. However, before Seokmin could fully extend his help, Mingyu shot him a gaze so intense it momentarily caught Seokmin off guard. The unspoken tension between them hung thick in the air, palpable to anyone observing.

You watched the exchange between Mingyu and Seokmin, sensing the growing discomfort and suspicion emanating from Mingyu. Recognizing the need to diffuse the situation and allow Seokmin to attend to Mingyu's father, you gently intervened. Placing a reassuring hand on Mingyu's shoulder, you spoke softly but firmly.

"He's a doctor, Mingyu. You need to trust him. Your father will be alright," you urged, your voice laced with conviction. With a gentle tug, you pulled Mingyu away from the scene, guiding him to a safe distance where he could observe without feeling overwhelmed by the unfolding events.

Mingyu sat alone in front of his father's patient room, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. He absentmindedly picked up a phone call from Wonwoo and Seungcheol, grateful for the distraction, but also using the moment to let himself calm after the pounding in his chest earlier. Leaning his head against the cool wall, he closed his eyes briefly, trying to steady his racing thoughts.

The soft click of the door opening broke the silence, and Mingyu's eyes blinked open to find you entering the room. Wordlessly, you settled beside him, a comforting presence in the midst of his turmoil. No words were exchanged, but the sounds of your breaths and sighs filled the space, offering a sense of solace.

"I'm sorry for earlier," Mingyu finally spoke, his voice tinged with remorse. "I was losing my cool."

He watched as you nodded understandingly, your expression gentle and empathetic. "It's okay, I understand," you murmured softly, mirroring his position as you leaned against the wall beside him. In that moment, Mingyu felt a weight lift off his shoulders, grateful for your silent support amidst the chaos of his emotions.

Mingyu's gaze shifted from the scene in front of him to your face, his heart clenching with a tumultuous mix of emotions. Anger simmered beneath the surface as he watched you sit beside him, your presence a stark reminder of the connection you once shared. The sight of you with another man reignited the flames of jealousy within him, fueling his inner turmoil.

Closing his eyes tightly, Mingyu struggled to make sense of his conflicting feelings. Where had the love he once harbored for you gone? Where were the tender emotions that used to fill his heart at the sight of your smile?

His chest tightened with an indiscernible ache as he wrestled with these questions, grappling with the realization that the love he once thought was eternal had somehow slipped through his fingers. In that moment of vulnerability, Mingyu couldn't help but wonder if there was any hope left for the fractured pieces of his heart.

He glanced at you once again, his gaze boring into yours with a mixture of resentment and disappointment. You turned your head to meet his stare, but the warmth and affection that once radiated from his eyes were now replaced by cold indifference. Everything about you seemed to fuel his growing disdain and anger, each breath becoming shallower, sweat trickling down his forehead, and his fingers clenching into tight fists.

As he sat there, consumed by memories of betrayal and heartache, Mingyu couldn't help but wonder how everything had unraveled so quickly. The pain of realizing that the person he once cherished was capable of such deception gnawed at his soul, leaving him feeling hollow and broken.

In that moment, amidst the silence that hung heavily between them, Mingyu knew that the love he once felt for you had been irreparably tainted by the bitterness of betrayal. And as he stared into your eyes, all he could see was the reflection of his own shattered dreams and misplaced trust.

His mind drifted back to the moment when his feelings for you began to sour, a pivotal moment etched into his memory like a scar. It was the day he stumbled upon that innocuous piece of paper tucked away in your desk, a note filled with secrets and lies that shattered his trust in you. From that moment on, the love he once held for you had gradually withered away, leaving behind a festering wound that refused to heal.

"Tell me, what is it?" Mingyu's voice cut through the tense silence as he confronted you with the paper clenched tightly in his hand. You approached him cautiously, your heart pounding with apprehension as you took the paper from him. It was an abortion form from the hospital, a stark reminder of the decision you were contemplating.

"You want an abortion? After everything we've been through, I thought you finally could accept me, accept them, accept us!" Mingyu's words were laced with hurt and disbelief, his eyes searching yours for some semblance of understanding.

"Why are you so selfish, Y/n? Don't you ever think about my feelings?" His voice cracked with emotion, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air between you.

"Mingyu, I can explain..." you began, but he cut you off with a weary sigh.

"Stop it, Y/n. You're a grown-up, you're capable of deciding what you want, considering the kind of childhood you had," Mingyu's tone was resigned, his disappointment palpable.

"I'm sorry for what happened to you because of your mom, but our child doesn't deserve the same treatment. You want to... to kill them? That's evil, Y/n," Mingyu's voice wavered with a mixture of anger and sorrow, his heart breaking at the thought of losing the child he had already grown to love.

"You're just like your mom," the words hung in the air, heavy with accusation and pain, as Mingyu turned away from you, unable to bear the weight of the truth any longer.

*

.Weeks later, you found yourself standing in front of Mingyu's door, your hand poised to knock. With a deep breath, you hesitated, nerves fluttering in your stomach as you prepared yourself for what lay beyond that threshold. But before you could make a move, the door swung open, revealing Mingyu standing there in his pajamas, a mug in hand.

Surprise flickered across your features as you met his gaze, uncertainty mingling with a glimmer of hope in your heart. Mingyu's expression was unreadable, his eyes guarded as he studied you in silence. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily in the air between you.

Finally, Mingyu broke the silence, his voice tinged with a mixture of resignation and curiosity. "What are you doing here?"

You swallowed hard, searching for the right words to convey the turmoil swirling within you. "I... I wanted to talk," you replied hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mingyu nodded, his gesture a silent invitation for you to enter. "I was about to grab some water. Do you want some?" he offered, his voice tinged with a hint of warmth that belied the tension lingering between you.

Grateful for his kindness, you accepted his offer and followed him into his sanctuary. The room felt familiar yet foreign, a sanctuary for both of you months ago before you decided to sleep in the other room. He motioned for you to sit on the sofa next to his bed while he settled himself at his office desk, the glow of his computer screen casting shadows across his features.

As you watched him, a pang of guilt tugged at your heart. Mingyu seemed lost in his thoughts, his brow furrowed with concentration as he continued to work even in this late hour. The sight of him laboring away despite the heaviness weighing on his shoulders filled you with a sense of admiration and regret.

"If I'm disturbing you from working, we can talk tomorrow morning," you offered tentatively, the doubt evident in your voice.

Mingyu shook his head, his expression softening with understanding. "I'm done anyway," he replied, his fingers moving to shut off his computer with a decisive click. Turning his full attention to you, he leaned back in his chair, his eyes searching yours for answers.

"What is it you want to say?" he asked, his voice gentle yet tinged with a hint of apprehension. In that moment, as you sat face to face with Mingyu in the quiet solitude of his room, you knew that the time for honesty and reconciliation had finally come.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the difficult conversation ahead. "I'm aware that Seungcheol might have already told you about this, but I'm resigning," you began, your voice steady despite the turmoil churning within you.

Mingyu nodded, his expression somber as he removed his glasses, the weariness evident in the lines etched on his face. "Yeah, he called me right away," he confirmed, his hand moving to massage his forehead in a gesture of exhaustion.

"After we divorced, I'm going to move to Canada," you continued, your words heavy with the weight of impending change. "I'm going to have treatment there."

As you spoke, Mingyu's gaze softened, a mixture of understanding and sadness flickering in his eyes. Mingyu's brow furrowed, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "Is our psychiatrist here not enough that you have to get treated there?" he questioned, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration.

You nodded, unable to muster the strength to offer a further explanation. Despite his inquiry, Mingyu's gaze seemed distant, his attention drifting away as if the topic held no significance to him. It was a stark reminder that the care and concern he once held for you had long since dissipated, replaced by an indifferent detachment.

As you looked at Mingyu, a pang of sadness tugged at your heart. The realization that he no longer had any interest in your well-being only served to deepen the rift between you, highlighting the distance that had grown between you over time.

"What about you? Do you have any plans after our divorce settlement?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, the weight of the impending separation hanging heavily between you.

Mingyu shook his head, his response clipped and devoid of emotion. "I'm just going to live my life like usual," he replied, his tone betraying the indifference he felt towards the situation. It was a stark reminder of the disconnect that had grown between you, the sense of being mere strangers occupying the same space.

As the conversation turned towards your impending move and your relationship with your mother, Mingyu's demeanor remained distant, his words lacking any genuine concern. The tension between you hung in the air like a heavy fog, suffocating any hope of reconciliation or understanding.

With each passing moment, the discomfort in your stomach grew, a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil swirling within you. You struggled to maintain your composure as the pain intensified, your mind racing with unanswered questions and unspoken fears.

Feeling lightheaded and nauseous, you knew you couldn't continue the conversation any longer. With a trembling voice, you declared that you were done talking, desperate to escape the suffocating atmosphere of Mingyu's presence.

As you rose from your seat, the cramps in your stomach intensified, sending waves of agony coursing through your body. With every step, you fought to conceal your pain, unwilling to show any weakness in front of Mingyu.

But as you turned to leave, a burning question lingered in your mind, demanding to be heard. With a shaky breath, you uttered his name, your voice barely a whisper in the silence of the room.

"Mingyu..."

"Don't you wanna know my feelings about our divorcee?"

There was a pregnant pause as you awaited his response, the tension thickening between you like a taut string on the verge of snapping. And then, finally, his answer came, cold and final.

"I know you've been waiting for this. I'm sorry for holding you long enough."

His words pierced through you like a dagger, the finality of his apology crushing any lingering hope of salvaging what was left of your relationship. With a heavy heart, you turned away, the weight of his indifference crushing you as you stumbled towards the door.

But before you could escape, the pain became too much to bear, and darkness closed in around you, pulling you into unconsciousness. And as you crumpled to the floor, the last thing you saw was Mingyu's impassive gaze, a silent witness to the collapse of everything you had once held dear.

*

Three weeks before Seungcheol's wedding, life was a whirlwind of chaos and excitement. As his trusted assistant, you juggled his hectic schedule while also overseeing the wedding preparations. However, there was an added complication: you were five months pregnant. Only a month had passed since your honeymoon, and taking leave now would burden everyone. Despite feeling a severe burning sensation in your chest, you soldiered on, determined not to let anyone down.

On that fateful day, after wrapping up a meeting with a client alongside Seungcheol and Junhui, the sensation in your chest escalated, leaving you gasping for air. You motioned desperately to Junhui for assistance, the panic evident in your eyes. Seungcheol, occupied with driving his own car, was unaware of your distress as you shared a vehicle with Junhui. Sensing the urgency, Junhui wasted no time and swiftly steered the car towards the nearest hospital.

The drive felt agonizingly long as you struggled to maintain composure, each breath a struggle against the tightening grip of fear. Junhui's concern was palpable, his hands gripping the steering wheel with a mixture of urgency and worry. With each passing moment, the weight of the situation pressed down upon you, threatening to overwhelm.

Finally, the hospital loomed into view, a beacon of hope in the midst of turmoil. Junhui guided you inside, his steadying presence offering a sliver of reassurance amidst the chaos. As you were ushered into the emergency room, a flood of emotions washed over you – fear, uncertainty, and a profound sense of vulnerability.

In that moment, as you awaited medical attention, the true magnitude of the situation dawned upon you. The wedding, the responsibilities, all faded into insignificance in the face of this sudden health crisis. All that mattered now was the well-being of yourself and your unborn child.

For the first time, you heard the dreaded words: preeclampsia. The burning sensation that had plagued you for days, you now learned, wasn't just discomfort—it was a warning sign, a miniature heart attack triggered by hypertension during your pregnancy.

"Mrs. Ji," the doctor's voice pulled you from your thoughts, "from your health records, it appears you were in a car accident twenty years ago. Do you recall what injuries you sustained?"

Your head shook slowly, memories from that time shrouded in fog. "No," you murmured, "I barely remember anything from back then."

Doctor Lee Seokmin nodded, his expression grave. "It seems you underwent both heart and neurosurgery as a result of that accident. Unfortunately, those procedures have contributed to your current struggle with preeclampsia during this pregnancy."

A furrow formed between your brows as you processed the implications. "What should I do?" Your hands instinctively moved to cradle your burgeoning stomach, a protective gesture.

"It's strongly recommended that you consider terminating the pregnancy before it's too late," Dr. Lee advised gently. "Carrying the baby poses significant risks to your health, even to the point of endangering your life."

The weight of his words settled heavily upon you. "In simpler terms," he continued, his tone sympathetic yet firm, "your heart is struggling to supply blood for both you and the baby. Not only does this jeopardize your own safety, but the chances of the baby surviving are also slim. I urge you to carefully consider your options."

Tears welled in your eyes as the gravity of the situation sank in. It was a devastating choice to make, a painful crossroads where the life of your unborn child hung in the balance against your own.

Your heart ached with the weight of the decision ahead. Every beat seemed to echo the uncertainty of your future, intertwined with the life growing within you. As you sat in the sterile hospital room, the silence enveloped you, broken only by the rhythmic hum of medical equipment.

The thought of ending the pregnancy felt like a betrayal—a betrayal to the life blossoming inside you, a betrayal to the dreams you had woven around the idea of motherhood. But the stark reality laid out by Dr. Lee left little room for sentimentality. It was a matter of survival, a harsh truth that demanded to be faced.

You turned your gaze to your stomach, where the faint flutter of movement reminded you of the fragile existence nestled within. How could you choose between your own life and the life you had already begun to nurture?

Questions swirled in your mind, each one a thorn digging deeper into your already burdened heart. Would you be able to live with the knowledge that your decision may cost the life of your child? Could you bear the guilt of choosing self-preservation over the chance of motherhood?

Yet amidst the turmoil, a glimmer of resolve flickered within you. As painful as it was, you knew that you couldn't risk leaving your family behind, couldn't bear the thought of leaving your loved ones to mourn a life lost too soon.

With a heavy sigh, you met Dr. Lee's gaze, steeling yourself for the difficult conversation ahead. It was time to make the choice that would shape the course of your future, a choice that carried the weight of both sorrow and hope.

At the end, you still choose chance of motherhood. You'll found solution along with Mingyu. You would never terminate your pregnancy.

*

One haunting truth lingered in the shadows of your mind, a specter of betrayal from the past. It was the knowledge that your own mother had once plotted to end your life in that fateful car accident. Night after night, you found yourself jolting awake from restless slumber, the echoes of that near-tragedy replaying in your nightmares.

Mingyu, your husband, was keenly aware of your nightly struggles. Yet, despite his understanding, a palpable distance had settled between you in the wake of the doctor's grim recommendation. The discovery of the abortion form seemed to widen the chasm, a silent testament to the gulf that had formed between your hearts.

You found solace in the nursery room, seeking refuge amidst the soft hues and gentle whispers of promise that filled the space. But even here, the weight of Mingyu's silence pressed down upon you like an unbearable burden. Each night, as you lay alone in the darkness, tears would silently trace their paths down your cheeks, mingling with the whispers of doubt that haunted your thoughts.

Breakfast became a solitary affair, the clink of utensils against porcelain echoing in the empty spaces between you. And though you shared the same table come dinnertime, the silence between you was deafening, each lost in the labyrinth of your own thoughts.

You longed for the warmth of Mingyu's embrace, for the reassurance of his presence in the midst of uncertainty. Yet, his absence—both physical and emotional—cast a shadow over your shared existence, leaving you adrift in a sea of solitude.

As the days stretched into a week of silent anguish, you couldn't help but wonder if this was the beginning of the end, if the fractures in your relationship would widen into irreparable chasms. And in the quiet of the night, as sleep eluded you once more, you found yourself grappling with the weight of unanswered questions and the ache of unspoken words.

As you stepped through the threshold of your home, a sense of unease gripped you at the sight of the moving crew bustling about, their movements purposeful as they carted away pieces of your life. The crib, once a symbol of hope and anticipation, now stood bereft of its place in the nursery.

Summoning a flicker of courage, you ventured into the room, your heart pounding with a mixture of trepidation and determination. Mingyu, usually ensconced in his office, was seated at his desk, his attention focused on the screen before him.

"Why are they moving our stuff?" you ventured, the words trembling on your lips as you sought his gaze.

His response was chilling, devoid of the warmth and familiarity you had grown accustomed to. "What stuff?" His tone was colder than the winter wind, sending shivers down your spine.

A surge of panic rose within you as you struggled to find your voice. "They moved out our baby stuff!" The words spilled out, laced with desperation and a tinge of disbelief.

But Mingyu's reply pierced through the fragile facade of hope, extinguishing it with brutal finality. "We don't have a baby." His words hung in the air like a heavy curtain, separating you from the life you had envisioned together.

The weight of his denial crushed you, leaving you gasping for breath in its suffocating grip. How could he dismiss the dreams you had nurtured, the plans you had woven for the future? It felt like a betrayal, a betrayal of the love you had shared and the promises you had made to each other.

Tears welled in your eyes as the reality of his words sank in, a painful reminder of the chasm that had widened between you. And as you stood there, face to face with the stark truth of your shattered hopes, you couldn't help but wonder if this was the beginning of the end—a silent requiem for the life that might have been.

The air crackled with tension as you took determined steps towards Mingyu's desk, your heart pounding in your chest. With a trembling hand, you reached out and turned off his computer, the abruptness of the action punctuating the charged atmosphere.

"What do you mean? Stop acting like this!" Your voice wavered with a mixture of frustration and desperation, the words tumbling out in a rush as you confronted him head-on.

Mingyu's gaze flickered up to meet yours, annoyance flashing in his eyes. "Do whatever you want, Y/n," he replied curtly, his tone laced with indifference.

"Kim Mingyu!" The use of his full name was a reflex, a testament to the gravity of the situation that hung between you like a heavy fog.

A bitter taste rose in your throat as his words cut through the silence like a knife. "Seeing them makes me sick, Y/n," he spat, his voice tinged with a venomous edge.

Your heart clenched at his callousness, the sting of betrayal slicing through the facade of composure you had struggled to maintain. "Don't you see how betrayed I am right now?" Mingyu pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. "I love you! I love our life! But seeing that abortion form hurt me."

Tears threatened to spill over as you struggled to convey the depth of your pain, the weight of Mingyu's words bearing down on you like a crushing burden. The rift between you felt insurmountable, a gaping chasm that threatened to swallow you whole.

But amidst the turmoil, a flicker of hope remained—a glimmer of the love that had once bound you together, a fragile thread that refused to be severed. And as you stood there, locked in a battle of wills and emotions, you couldn't help but wonder if there was still a chance to bridge the divide and find solace in each other's arms once more.

"Stop acting like you're the only one suffering here!" The words burst forth from your lips, fueled by a potent mix of frustration and despair. "I don't want to do it either! But I have to, Mingyu! I have to!" Each syllable was laden with the weight of your anguish, the struggle to convey the depth of your turmoil.

Mingyu's gaze remained fixed on you, his expression unreadable as he listened to your impassioned plea. But when he scoffed in response, a surge of indignation rose within you like a tidal wave. "Don't you see I'm working on it?" you cried out, your voice trembling with emotion. "I'm trying my best to keep them. Stop telling me I'm selfish! You're selfish, you only think about what you're feeling this week and you left me! You left me alone!"

The accusation hung heavy in the air, a bitter truth laid bare in the starkness of your words. Mingyu's silence spoke volumes, his refusal to acknowledge your pain a sharp sting that cut deeper than any words could.

"So your feeling is the only one that's valid?" Mingyu's voice sliced through the silence like a blade, his tone laced with disdain.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, a silent testament to the turmoil raging within you. "You don't know what kind of sorrow I've been hiding until they turned into anger," you mumbled, the weight of your confession hanging heavy in the air.

With a heavy heart, you turned away from him, unable to bear the weight of his indifference any longer. "And now, I'm the bad person," you whispered to yourself, the words a bitter reminder of the rift that had formed between you.

Leaving Mingyu in his office, you retreated to the sanctuary of the nursery, seeking solace amidst the familiar surroundings. With a heavy sigh, you instructed your house assistant to have a bed and your belongings moved into the child's room, unable to face Mingyu with the swirling emotions that threatened to consume you whole.

*

Mingyu stood vigil beside your hospital bed, his heart heavy with worry and uncertainty. The sight of you collapsing before his very eyes had propelled him into action, rushing you to the hospital in a frantic blur of fear and desperation. Now, as he waited for you to wake, he could only hope and pray that the doctors would bring him good news.

The doctor's somber presence loomed over Mingyu, a harbinger of the grim tidings that were to come. His voice, measured and grave, cut through the silence like a blade, delivering the devastating news of your deteriorating health.

"I'm sorry to inform you, Mr. Kim, but the cancerous growth in your wife's cervix has progressed significantly," the doctor intoned, his words hanging heavy in the air like a dark cloud.

Mingyu's brow furrowed in confusion, his mind struggling to grasp the gravity of the situation. "What do you mean? What cancer?" he pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation.

The doctor's sympathetic gaze softened as he attempted to simplify the complex medical details for Mingyu's benefit. "The cancer has spread, Mr. Kim. It's worsening, and we need to discuss our options moving forward."

Panic surged within Mingyu like a tidal wave, threatening to overwhelm him as he grappled with the harsh reality of your diagnosis. "But she's young, she's healthy," he protested, his voice laced with disbelief. "How could this happen?"

In response, the doctor guided Mingyu through the medical history recorded in your files, shedding light on the shadowy truths hidden within. "In your wife's medical records, it's noted that she experienced a miscarriage in February, likely due to complications related to the cervical tumor."

The mention of the miscarriage sent a shiver down Mingyu's spine, a cruel reminder of the pain and suffering you had endured in silence. "A miscarriage?" he echoed, the word heavy with sorrow and regret.

"Yes, Mr. Kim," the doctor confirmed gently. "I'll arrange for you to meet with the physician who has been attending to your wife. We'll discuss the next steps together."

"I'm sorry that you have to find out this way, Mr. Kim," Dr. Lee Seokmin stated with genuine regret, his voice heavy with sympathy. He watched Mingyu closely, noting the confusion that flickered across his face before understanding settled in. Mingyu's expression shifted, revealing a mix of disbelief and realization.

Dr. Lee's regretful tone only deepened Mingyu's sense of unease. How long had you been living with this condition without even him knowing? The weight of the revelation settled heavily on his shoulders, and Mingyu felt a surge of conflicting emotions—anger, confusion, and a profound sense of loss for the time he could never get back.

As the truth sank in, Mingyu found himself grappling with a new reality, one he hadn't anticipated when he walked through the office doors. Dr. Lee's words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the fragility of life and the importance of staying vigilant about one's health. Mingyu nodded slowly, his mind whirring with unanswered questions and a newfound determination to confront whatever lay ahead.

"This is what her cervix looks like," Dr. Lee explained, his voice somber as he pointed to the results of your x-rays, highlighting the ominous spread of cancer. Mingyu's eyes widened as he took in the stark contrast between the current image and the last one, where the cancerous tumor had been detected.

"I already suggested Mrs. Ji to do her chemotherapy a week after her miscarriage, but I did understand why she didn't come. However, she hasn't come at all," Dr. Lee continued, his tone tinged with disappointment and concern.

Mingyu's heart sank as he absorbed the gravity of the situation. He felt a heavy weight settle in the pit of his stomach, accompanied by a sense of helplessness. His mind raced with thoughts of you, your missed appointments, and the potential consequences of your absence.

A heavy sigh escaped Mingyu's lips, betraying the turmoil raging within him. He bit his lip, trying to suppress the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. But amidst the fear and uncertainty, a nagging question persisted, demanding to be acknowledged.

"Miscarriage?" Mingyu finally spoke, his voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and desperation. It was a question that had been haunting him since he first learned of your diagnosis. Denial clawed at the edges of his consciousness, but deep down, he knew he couldn't ignore the harsh reality laid out before him any longer.

"Yes, Mr. Kim," Dr. Lee began, his tone gentle yet firm as he sought to elucidate the complexities of your situation to Mingyu. "She had refused to undergo the abortion and chose to proceed with the pregnancy after experiencing her first bout of preeclampsia in the last week of January."

Mingyu listened intently, his brow furrowed in concentration as he absorbed the gravity of Dr. Lee's words. The choice you had made, despite the risks and uncertainties, spoke volumes about your unwavering determination and resilience.

"However," Dr. Lee continued, his voice tinged with regret, "she suffered a miscarriage on February 20th due to stress and exhaustion, which later led us to discover the presence of her tumor."

The weight of the revelation hung heavy in the air, a sobering reminder of the fragility of life and the trials you had endured in silence. Mingyu's heart ached with the weight of the knowledge, the pain of your loss etched into the lines of his face.

As Dr. Lee moved on to the next slide, outlining potential treatment options for your condition, Mingyu's gaze remained fixed on the screen, his mind racing with a flurry of emotions. Hope mingled with apprehension as he considered the possibility of a path forward, one that held the promise of healing and renewal.

With each word spoken by the doctor, Mingyu felt a glimmer of hope begin to take root within him, a beacon of light amidst the darkness that had clouded his thoughts. And as he looked towards the future, his resolve hardened, his determination to stand by your side unwavering in the face of adversity.

"In South Korea, we haven't had access to this technology," Dr. Lee explained, his tone tinged with a note of regret. "However, this treatment has been proven with an 80% success rate in terminating cervical cancer and is available in Ottawa."

As the words sank in, a realization dawned on Mingyu. You wanted to go to Canada for treatment all along. But why hadn't you mentioned it earlier? Why keep it a secret until now? Mingyu's mind buzzed with questions, each one a jagged edge cutting into the fragile fabric of trust between you.

Lost in his thoughts, Mingyu hadn't even realized that he had been studying your face, searching for answers in the depths of your expression. But all he found was the echo of his own confusion mirrored back at him, a silent testament to the barriers that had grown between you.

A swell of emotions threatened to overwhelm Mingyu as he grappled with the revelation, his heart heavy with the weight of betrayal and longing. Had you been hiding the truth from him all along? And if so, why? The questions swirled in his mind, a relentless storm that refused to be quelled.

But amidst the turmoil, Mingyu couldn't deny the flicker of hope that ignited within him—the possibility of finding a solution, a lifeline in the form of treatment abroad. And as he looked towards the future, his determination hardened, his resolve to stand by your side unwavering in the face of adversity.

Regret washed over Mingyu like a torrential downpour, each drop heavy with the weight of missed opportunities and misunderstood intentions. The abortion form you had brought home—the very same document he had reacted to with such cold indifference—was now a haunting reminder of the choices you had made: to keep the baby and the assumptions he had drawn.

It dawned on Mingyu with a gut-wrenching clarity that the moment you had returned home without a baby bump, it wasn't because you had terminated the pregnancy, but because you had suffered a miscarriage. The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning, electrifying his senses with the stark truth of your pain.

Tears welled up in Mingyu's eyes, his vision blurred as he grappled with the possibility that his actions, his lack of understanding and support, may have played a role in your suffering. The thought pierced through the armor of his pride, leaving him vulnerable and exposed to the raw emotions that surged within him.

Guilt clawed at Mingyu's chest, a relentless monster gnawing at his conscience as he wrestled with the consequences of his ignorance. Had he been too quick to judge, too blind to see the depth of your struggles? The realization gnawed at him, a bitter pill to swallow as he confronted the harsh truth of his own shortcomings.

In that moment, as tears silently trailed down his cheeks, Mingyu found himself consumed by a sense of profound remorse—a longing to turn back the hands of time and rewrite the narrative, to be the partner you needed in your darkest hour. But as the weight of his regrets settled upon him, Mingyu knew that he could only move forward, armed with the newfound clarity of hindsight and a determination to make amends.

*

"How far along are you?" Mingyu's voice cut through the tense air of the room as he sat confidently in front of your mother, the formidable CEO of JIS Corp. She exuded an aura of sharpness and rigidity, her piercing gaze sizing him up with every word she spoke.

You sat nervously beside Mingyu, acutely aware of the weight of your mother's scrutiny as she fired off a series of offensive questions, her demeanor dripping with arrogance. Mingyu, however, remained unfazed, his posture exuding confidence as he mirrored your mother's demeanor, ready to engage in the contest of wills that lay before him.

"I'm in my fourth month," you answered quietly, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to maintain your composure under your mother's intense scrutiny.

As your mother settled into her seat across from you and Mingyu, her body language radiated dominance, a stark contrast to Mingyu's calm and collected demeanor. Despite the tension that hung in the air, Mingyu pressed on, determined to make a favorable impression on your mother, the woman who held the key to your future.

Your mother asked you to leave her alone with him. Mingyu sent you an assurance nodd before you rose from your seat and walked away to the kitchen.

"You know Y/n is not my daughter?" your mother's question hung in the air, a challenge disguised as a statement.

Mingyu nodded calmly, his gaze meeting your mother's without hesitation. "I'm aware of that," he replied evenly, "but she was legally adopted by your husband before he married you. So while she may not be biologically related to you, she is legally your daughter."

"What do you want, Kim Mingyu?" your mother's voice dripped with skepticism, her tone a clear indication that she was not easily swayed.

Mingyu's response was swift and direct. "Your resort label is facing bankruptcy," he began, his voice steady and confident. "I propose a merger with my own label. You'll gain financial stability and a positive reputation, while also giving Y/n her rightful share and putting an end to your surveillance of her."

As your mother considered his offer, Mingyu continued, his tone unwavering. "After marrying me, Y/n will gain social power and influence. She'll be able to hold JIS Corp accountable if they continue to deny her rights as an heir."

Your mother hesitated for a moment before raising two fingers in a gesture of negotiation. "Two years. Two years of merger, and then I'll hand her the share."

Mingyu shook his head firmly. "A year," he countered, his resolve unwavering.

"Two," your mother insisted, her tone firm.

Mingyu leaned back in his seat, shaking his head once more. "Then forget it. My resort label is too valuable to be compromised. And besides, with Y/n's newfound social status, she'll have the power to hold JIS Corp accountable."

Your mother's expression softened slightly, the corners of her mouth twitching as she weighed her options. "Okay," she relented at last, "a year is enough."

*

As Sora finally drifted off to sleep, her tear-stained cheeks still hauntingly fresh in your mind, you tiptoed out of the bedroom with a sense of quiet relief. Closing the door behind you with practiced care, you exhaled slowly, the weight of the day's emotional turmoil settling heavily upon your shoulders.

Today marked Sora's third birthday, a joyous occasion overshadowed by the absence of her father, who was miles away on a business trip. The sound of her plaintive cries had echoed through the house, a poignant reminder of the sacrifices made in pursuit of success and stability.

Making your way to the kitchen island, you reached for a bottle of mineral water, the cool liquid offering a fleeting moment of solace amidst the chaos of your thoughts. The day had been a whirlwind of emotions, your work as a full-time writer left unfinished as you devoted every waking moment to comforting and caring for your daughter.

As a writer, your focus had shifted towards women's and healthy lifestyle topics, a reflection of your own journey towards wellness and empowerment. Even during your treatment in Ottawa, you had continued your studies in creative writing, determined to pursue your passion despite the challenges that lay in your path.

Returning to South Korea after completing your treatment, you had been met with a new opportunity—a promotion to Chief Editorial at the Seoul branch of a prestigious magazine. It was a testament to your resilience and determination, a testament to the strength that had carried you through the darkest of times.

But as you stood in the quiet of the kitchen, the echoes of Sora's cries still lingering in the air, you couldn't help but feel the weight of your responsibilities pressing down upon you. Balancing motherhood with a demanding career was no easy feat, but with each passing day, you found strength in the love you shared with your daughter, a love that knew no bounds and blood, fueled your determination to succeed, no matter the obstacles that lay ahead.

The sound of the door's password being unlocked drew your attention away from your thoughts, causing you to rise from your seat with a mixture of surprise and anticipation. Your husband had returned home, his weary figure a stark contrast to the usual air of confidence and charm that surrounded him. Yet, despite the exhaustion etched into his features, he still managed to exude a quiet sense of grace and poise.

As he entered the house, you couldn't help but chuckle softly at the sight of him, his disheveled appearance doing nothing to diminish his innate handsomeness. With a gentle smile, you stepped forward to greet him, offering a comforting hand to help him shed the burdensome weight of his suit and tie.

"I miss you so much," he whispered into your ear, his voice laced with a palpable longing that mirrored your own.

"How about Sora?" you inquired, your concern for your daughter never far from your mind even in the midst of your reunion with your husband.

A flicker of realization crossed his features as he almost forgot about his sweet little cupcake, Sora. "Is she asleep already?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of guilt at the oversight.

You nodded in response, offering him an exhausted yet understanding smile. The trials of the day had taken their toll on both of you, but in this moment, as you stood close together, the warmth of your shared love enveloped you like a comforting embrace, reminding you of the strength and resilience that bound your family together.

"I had to read her three books before she finally fell asleep. So don't you ever try to wake her up," you warned him playfully, a hint of exhaustion still evident in your voice as you recounted the bedtime routine with Sora. Despite the weariness, there was a sense of fondness in your words, a testament to the love and dedication you poured into your role as a mother.

Your husband let out a soft chuckle at your admonishment, his arms enveloping you in a warm embrace as he pulled you close. His presence was a comforting balm against the strains of the day, offering solace in the midst of the chaos that had defined your evening.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice tinged with regret. "The seminar went longer than expected. My flight was delayed, and I had to book another one to get home quicker. But I'm still this late."

You offered a reassuring smile, your hand gently tapping his back in a gesture of understanding and support. "There's always tomorrow, babe," you whispered, your words a gentle reminder that in the grand scheme of things, time was but a fleeting commodity compared to the enduring bond you shared as a family.

Your husband's touch was gentle yet firm as he pushed your body back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours with a depth of emotion that stirred something within you. "Tomorrow is February 20th," he whispered softly, the weight of the date hanging heavily between you.

You nodded in acknowledgment, your heart fluttering with a mixture of apprehension and longing as you contemplated the significance of the day. It was a day etched into your memory, a painful reminder of the loss you had endured and the scars that still lingered.

"Do you want to introduce Sora to him?" your husband asked gently, his voice a tender caress against the quiet of the room. "I think she's ready for that."

A surge of emotion welled up within you at the suggestion, a bittersweet blend of hope and trepidation. It had been a journey marked by grief and healing, a journey you had traversed with Sora by your side every step of the way.

"I'd love to," you replied softly, your voice trembling with emotion. "I think... I'm ready too."

Your husband's eyes softened with pride and admiration as he gazed at you, his words a soothing balm to the wounds that still lingered within your heart. "I'm so proud of you," he whispered, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "You're doing so great."

In that moment, as you stood together on the precipice of a new chapter, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope ignite within you—a glimmer of light amidst the darkness that had once threatened to consume you whole. And with your husband by your side, you knew that whatever tomorrow may bring, you would face it together, united in love and resilience.

*

Your steps faltered as you heard Mingyu engaged in conversation with someone inside his office. You had come to discuss something with him this morning, but now your attention was fully captured by the voices drifting out through the open door.

"You knocked somebody?" A deeper voice queried, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

"Hm... Not entirely false! Yes, but she's not just somebody. She's someone I care about," Mingyu's voice replied, sending a ripple of confusion and curiosity coursing through you.

"It's pretty odd to hear that you care about someone. Who is she? Do I know her?" The other person's voice sounded vaguely familiar, prompting you to hazard a guess at their identity.

"She's Seungcheol hyung's secretary," Mingyu revealed, dropping your name into the conversation without preamble.

There was a pregnant pause before your name was spoken again, this time with a note of surprise. "Ji Y/n?"

"Yeah, she reminds me of her," Mingyu's voice confirmed, sending a jolt of uncertainty coursing through you.

"That's not enough reason to marry her, Kim Mingyu," the other person's voice retorted, their words hanging heavy in the air.

Your mind raced with a flurry of emotions as you struggled to process Mingyu's revelation. The realization that he saw shades of someone else in you, someone you didn't even know, left you feeling adrift in a sea of confusion and doubt.

As snippets of memories flooded your mind—moments of tenderness and affection shared between you and Mingyu over the past few weeks—a pang of sadness gripped your heart. Had his gestures of romance and chivalry been driven by genuine affection, or were they merely echoes of a love he once knew?

Caught between the pull of your growing feelings for Mingyu and the unsettling revelation of his comparison, you found yourself at a crossroads. What should you do? You had fallen for him, despite the uncertainty that now clouded your heart. But could you truly build a future with someone who saw you as a reflection of another?

As the tall figure emerged from Mingyu's office, you felt a knot form in your stomach. He paused as his gaze locked onto yours, and you rose from your seat, attempting to maintain a composed facade despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you.

"You're Ji Y/n? Seungcheol hyung's secretary?" His voice was deep and authoritative, yet there was a hint of curiosity in his tone as he addressed you.

You offered him a polite smile and nodded in confirmation. "Yes, that's correct. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Jeon."

"I've seen you around, but this is our first time talking," Mr. Jeon remarked, his demeanor friendly yet reserved. "Nice to meet you too. Let's be more friendly in the future."

With those words, Mr. Jeon bid you farewell, leaving you to grapple with the weight of his presence and the implications of his unexpected encounter. Mentally preparing yourself for what lay ahead, you took a deep breath and steeling yourself for the challenges that awaited you.

As you entered Mingyu's office, your mind buzzed with a flurry of thoughts and emotions. With each step, you reminded yourself of the decisions that lay before you, the choices that would shape your future.

Keep the baby.

Get your share.

Have a happy life.

The words echoed in your mind, a mantra of determination and resolve as you braced yourself for the difficult conversations that lay ahead.

To be continued.

[borathae]

"An unexpected rainstorm forces you to seek refuge at your best friend's house. Hoseok just so happens to also be your boyfriend's best friend, who till this day gushes about the night he and Hoseok shared. Soon you can't take the curiousity about his skills anymore. Especially when he looks so goddamn hot and the clothes you borrowed from him smell just like his cologne."

Pairing: Vampire!Hoseok x Witch!Reader

Genre: Best Friends with Benefits!AU, Polyamory!AU, Smut, some domestic sweetness

Warnings: minimal Yoongi x f.Reader, Domish switch!Hoseok, Switch!Reader, there's not really a D/s dynamic though just two people having sex where one just happens to take the lead more & then they change it up, *whispers* if you're new to the Sanguis Universe everyone fucks everyone here lmaoo, Hoseok is a whole boyfriend i said what i said, he gives her his clothes to wear, they smell like him <3, Hobi is a lil nervous hehehe, lap sitting, making out, oral (f. & m.receiving), mattress & thigh humping, handjob, she spits on his cock, he spits on her pussy, passionate missionary, hair pulling (m.receiving), nipple play (m.receiving), clit & pussy spanking with his cock, he shows off his vampire face, dirty talk, praise, he calls her good girl & babygirl, he's into making her beg, multiple orgasms for both, creampies, cockwarming for aftercare, cuddly aftercare, Hoseok's so whipped for her

Wordcount: 12.6k

a/n: you guys, i'm scared he is so hot fjadsfja also, if anyone dares to call me out on my oral fixation i will lick your nostril JFJADJF istfg i can't even deny that i have it hahahah have fun besties because a bitch might cum 💗

The rain surprised you today. You were at the university’s library for most of your afternoon after having spent your lunch and morning hours in lectures and classes. You want to finish your education. This is what your current plan is. A little bit of normalcy and the feeling of achieving one of your life long goals. 

You are the only one who went back to university after everything which happened. The others had no reason to do so and you didn’t blame them. You really liked being back at university, spending your days studying and your evenings practicing magic or cuddling with your  boys. You are living the best fucking life.

The rain surprised you today. You were on your way back home when a sudden rain shower took control of the sky. You could have easily called one of your boys and they could have picked you up, but you didn’t feel like it. Seokjin’s – aka Hoseok’s – house was just in reach and you are sure that you can find refuge there. 

You increase your steps, fighting against the storm. Hopefully Hoseok is home. Seokjin and Emma are back in Gordes for a few months, so Hoseok has been taking care of the house. He spends most of his weekends at the estate however, if he isn’t busy with his dance school that is. 

You hurry up the few steps and slam your finger on the doorbell. 

No answer for a few moments too long. The rain is wet and cold, the harsh storm brings down the temperature even more. You are shivering like crazy. Your clothes are soaked entirely.

You ring the bell a second time in sync with Hoseok opening the door. It results in you being able to hear the shrill ringing. 

“Hey”, you say, slipping your finger from the bell to give him a little wave.

“Hey there hey, come in. Quick, come in”, he greets you, waving you inside as he steps out of the way, “the weather’s crazy all of a sudden. Shit, look at you. You’re soaked.”

“I’m freezing my ass off. The rain surprised me”, you tell him, “can I put my stuff on the mat?”

“Yeah sure.”

Hoseok locks the door while you shrug off your soaked outdoor clothes and backpack.

“You’re lucky I have increased hearing. I was wearing headphones.”

“Yeah? Did you practice dance?” you ask, taking off your shoes.

Hoseok is already busy spreading your wet jacket on the radiator in order for it to dry quicker. 

“Nope, just making music.”

“That’s cool. You keep talking about it. I wanna listen to your stuff, seriously.”

Hoseok dismisses you with a nonchalant tilt of his head, “soon. It’s not finished yet.”

“You’re a perfectionist. I’m sure it’s already good.”

“Yeah I am, but at least it means that once it’s done, it’s amazing.”

“I can’t argue what that”, say and feel shivers run through you, “brrrr, I’m so cold. And wet. Urgh, I hate the rain.”

“You love rain.”

You laugh, “yeah, I do. I just don’t like it right now.”

Hoseok smiles and chuckles. He nods his head into the direction of the stairs. 

“You know where the bathroom is. You can take a hot shower if you want.”

“This would literally save my life. Thank you”, you say and turn to hurry upstairs, “can I borrow clothes?” 

“Yeah sure. What’s your size again?”

Spending time at Hoseok’s place feels familiar and safe. You know every nook and cranny, find everything blindly and feel at home in the rooms. It is not only because you spent months in the guestroom during the time Namjoon was still a threat and you hated Yoongi. But it is also because next to the estate, the former Sanguis frat house feels like a second home. You and the others are always welcome here, you are allowed to act at home and the company is always amazing. There are many days where you take a short rest stop at Hoseok’s place before going home. And there are also many days where the others, especially Jungkook, leave the estate to spend time at Hoseok’s instead. In a sense, the cozy townhouse has become an extension of the estate where all of you are always welcome. 

You are in the middle of drying your hair with Hoseok’s dryer when he knocks on the door.

“I’ve put the clothes in front of the door”, he calls out.

“Yes. Thanks”, you call back. 

Hoseok picked out one of his comfiest sweat suit. He is currently in a phase where he enjoys wearing matching sweat suits sets in the most colourful of combinations and with many accessories bringing the look together. He always looks to die for in them. He picked out a grey coloured sweat suit with neon green accents for you. You saw him wear it before and he looked amazing in it. 

He also laid out a pair of boxers for you and some socks. They are freshly washed because if there is one thing Hoseok is, it is clean. 

The clothes smell just like him and the cologne he always wears. Masculine and clean with a hint of sandalwood at the end. You catch yourself smelling the collar of his hoodie way too vividly, cringing at yourself afterwards because of how embarrassing that was. You couldn’t help yourself. He smells so good. 

Now wrapped in his soft clothes and with your body warmed up, you decide to look for him. Knowing Hoseok, he was back in his home studio. 

It is located on the second floor just past his bedroom and the guestroom Yoongi stayed in all those years ago. The door is closed and you know that knocking is fruitless. You still do, entering his room at the same time. 

“Hobi?”

He doesn’t answer you.

Just like you had thought, Hoseok was lost in his music, nodding his head to the beat of it. You can hear snippets of it escaping his headphones. It sounds as if he was rapping "burn" over and over again. The beat sounds aggressive and perfectly rhythmical.

“Hobi?” you repeat yourself and tap his shoulder. 

He presses pause and takes off his headphones, turning with his chair afterwards.

“Hey there ___”, he says and grins, tilting his head to the side.

“Sorry to disturb you.”

“You’re not”, he assures you and studies you from head to toe, “cute. My clothes fit you well.”

“Thanks”, you say, smoothing over the front, “they smell like you.” 

He grins, “and that means?”

“Nothing”, you mumble and look away. Shit, why did you say that? So embarrassing.

He chuckles and turns back to his desktop. He is wearing a brown sweat suit today, combining some rings and an expensive watch with it. Knowing Hoseok, he would wear some funky glasses and chunky sneakers with it if he were to leave the house. But alas, only a pair of white socks adorns his feet. The latter he currently taps to a silent beat. The song must still be stuck in his head even now that he isn’t playing it.

You take a step closer and point at the screen. Hoseok sneaks a glance up at you. You aren’t aware of it, but like this, your body is touching his upper arm. Your warmth seeps right through your clothes.

“I heard glimpses of the song. It sounded really good”, you say.

Hoseok turns back to you again. Like this, you are between his legs.

“You think so?” he asks, resting his head back against the chair in order to look up at you. His elegant fingers are folded on his stomach.

“Yeah. You sang about burning stuff?” 

“Yeah”, he laughs, “you could say it like that. I still haven’t finished the verses yet. It’s just a guide version for now.”

“It already sounds good.”

“Thanks”, he says and stands up with his eyes running over your face. He steps closer to you, placing his hand on the table beside you, “why are you here?”

“I, I uhm”, you clear your throat, “Hobi, don’t be like that”, you complain and push at his chest.

“Like what?”

“A flirt.”

He laughs, “I’m not flirting. I genuinely wanna know why you’re here.”

“I was on my way home from uni and the rain surprised me. This was closest.” 

“So I wasn’t a reason?”

“You’re always a reason”, you say and nudge him, “silly.”

He laughs and steps back, “are you hungry?”

“Starving actually.”

“Wanna cook together?”

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

“Funky. Let me just save this and then I’m ready.”

“Yeah, take your time. I’m calling Yoongi to let him know that I’ll stay the night here”, you say with your back already turned to him as you leave the room. You can’t see the surprised look Hoseok sends you at the mention of you sleeping over or the faint smile which follows. 

“Sure, tell him”, he says and looks back at his song.

You walk downstairs as you talk to Yoongi. The latter picks up after the third ring.

“Hey, my princess.”

“Hey, my prince.”

“Are you okay?”

“I am, don’t worry. The rain surprised me.”

“I know, I noticed. I was worried already”, he confesses, making you smile.

“Of course you were. Don’t worry about me, love. I managed to get to Hoseok’s just in time.”

“Thank god, phew”, he exhales loudly, “I can relax now.” 

“Yeah”, you giggle. He’s so cute.

“Are you staying the night? I don’t think the weather’s gonna get any better.” 

“Yeah right? I’ll stay the night if that’s okay.”

“Of course it is. You don’t gotta ask”, he assures you and suddenly you can hear the smirk in his voice, “maybe you’ll end up watching his stuff too, mhm?”

Your heart fluttered in your chest. 

“Yoongi”, you gasp. 

He chuckles deeply, “I’m messing with you.”

“Wah, so mean. I feel hot now.”

“Sorry”, he laughs.

“You’re not.”

“Mhm, no I’m not.”

“So mean”, you mumble and snicker. Yoongi does the same. 

Silence follows, which Yoongi breaks.

“Where are you right now?”

“Kitchen. I’m waiting for Hobi to come down. He’s working on his mixtape.” 

“Mhm, the songs are really good.”

“You heard them?”

“Yeah. He showed me and asked for my input.”

“That’s so unfair. He doesn’t want to show them to me”, you whine.

Yoongi chuckles, “poor woman. You’ll love them once he does.”

“Mhm, I’m sure I will”, you say as your eyes shift to the doorway. Hoseok is finally here, “hey love? Hobi just came. I’m gonna hang up now if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, okay. Tell him hi.”

“Yoongi says hi.”

Hoseok smiles, “thanks Yoongi. I say hi back.” 

“He says hi back.”

“Thanks”, the smile is obvious in Yoongi’s voice, “have fun, love. Yeah?”

Your heart flutters. You know exactly how he meant that.

“So mean”, you mumble, making him laugh, “I’ll have fun”, you add in a chuckle.

“Good. Sweet dreams, princess.” 

“You too, Boongie. I’ll come home for lunch tomorrow.”

“Okay, I’ll have something prepared.”

“Ooh, now I can’t wait. I love you, Boongie.”

“I love you too, princess.”

“And Yoongi! Before I forget!”

“Yes?”

“Can you tell the others where I am? So they don’t worry.”

“Of course, I’ll tell them.”

“Thank you, love. Okay, bye then.”

“Bye, love.”

You hang up and place the phone aside, smiling to yourself. 

Hoseok, who watched you talk to Yoongi on the phone, sends you a teasing look.

“You’re so whipped for this man”, he coos and nudges your upper arm.

“Yes I am. What about it?” you throw back with a pout.

“Nothing. It’s cute”, he says and points at his fridge, “what you wanna eat? I gotta warn you, I don’t have lots of groceries because I haven’t really eaten lots of human food lately.”

“Really? But you love human food. Are you okay?”

“Very. Just way too preoccupied with the mixtape. I just crack open a blood bag and I’m good. It takes less time.”

“You guys are so lucky that you can choose if you want to eat food or not. I miss out on food once and feel shitty.”

“Yeah right, I guess we are lucky”, he says and sticks his head into the fridge, “what do you wanna eat?”

You close the distance and try to look inside the fridge as well, “what do you have? Oh pesto. We could make pasta with pesto.”

“That sounds good. I think I still have your favourite pasta.”

“Really?”

Hoseok opens the kitchen cabinet and pulls out a package of your favourite pasta.

“Yup”, he says, shaking it.

“Wah Hobi, I love you. This is the best pasta shape ever.”

“Yeah, it’s good. It holds the sauces well.”

“Agreed and it’s the perfect size for my mouth.”

Hoseok snorts, “that’s what she said”, he says, earning himself a nudge to the chest.

“Perv”, you say, but chuckle.

Hoseok snickers and busies himself with getting out the pot and filling it with water. He puts it on the stove and turns the heat on.

“What should we do now that the water needs to boil?” he asks.

“You could show me your songs.”

Hoseok smiles, “why are you so persistent?”

“Because”, you nudge his chest, “I talked to Yoongi and he told me that you show him your songs.”

“Yeah? And?” Hoseok is giggling, which means he’s being playful. 

“Hobi, come on”, you whine, chasing him to grab his waist and squeeze it.

He flees you with minimal effort, letting out squeaky giggles while his hands hold yours in place.

“I’m so curious. Come on, show me”, you whine.

“Fine okay”, he squeaks, “okay, I’ll show you. Just stop tickling me”, he says and pulls you out of the kitchen.

You skip next to him happily, swinging your hands back and forth. Hoseok studies you.

“Why are you so happy?”

“Because I’m gonna hear your music.”

Hoseok sits you down on his studio chair while he busies himself with turning on the big speakers and subwoofer. You pull your legs up on the chair so you can sit cross-legged and watch him squat down in front of the desk. He rests his chin on it as he clicks away on his computer. 

You place your hands on his shoulders and give him a gentle massage. Hoseok reacts by leaning into you slightly and letting out a deep purr. 

“Okay, this song’s called More. I really like it”, Hoseok explains.

“Is it the one I could hear?” you ask, running your fingertips through the fluffy hair at the nape of his neck.

“No that one’s gonna be called Burn. It’s not done yet.”

“I see. Well then, play it. I’m so excited.”

“Right”, he says and presses play. He gets up and stands next to you with his arms crossed in front of his chest and a stern, almost angry, expression on his face. You glance at him at first, but then concentrate on the song instead. It’s an amazing song. It is not all how you imagined Hoseok’s music to be and you feel terrible that you thought so because as you listened to the hard beat and aggressive guitar riffs between his passionate rapping, you realise just how Hoseok this song is. It is in Korean, which makes understanding the lyrics difficult for you, but you don’t have to understand every word to know that this song means a lot to him.

The song ends. 

You cheer and clap instantly, bouncing in the chair. Hoseok doesn’t react to your cheers. He merely tilts his head to the side in a twitch and clicks his tongue, looking displeased.

“Ah I could add more reverb at one sixty”, he says and leans on the table as he works with a stern expression.

“This was amazing, Hobi. Look, I’ve got goosebumps”, you say, showing off your arm.

“You think so?”

“Yes. It was amazing. It had me totally captured and I wanna listen to the song whenever I do something I need motivation for.”

Hoseok turns and sits down on the edge of the desk. He still has his arms crossed.

“Thanks ___, that means a lot.”

“I’m serious. You’re so talented.”

“Thank you”, his features soften as if he finally starts to like the song as well, “yeah, I’m proud of it”, he says and smiles, “it took me a long time to get there, but it’s a good song. You know, I need my stuff to be perfect and I can’t rest till I’m satisfied.” 

“I know. You’re a perfectionist”, you tease, nudging him in the thigh.

“Yeah true”, he agrees and pushes himself off the table, “we should check on the noodle water.”

The water is boiling when you enter the kitchen so Hoseok pours in some pasta while you prepare the pesto and a plate for later. You set a timer on your phone, showing it to Hoseok.

“We’ve got around eight minutes to spare. Any more songs you can show me?” 

“No, but I’ve got a living room we can chill in."

You chuckle, “you’re so secretive with your songs.”

“Hey, they have to be perfect. I already stressed out ‘cause you listened to More.”

“Okay, okay I’m not saying anything. For what it’s worth, I genuinely think it’s an amazing song.”

“Yeah? Thanks, uhm”, he flusters and giggles, “shit, you got me giggling. Hah, thanks.”

You chuckle fondly, “you’re cute, Hobi.”

You eat your pasta in the living room, chatting about everything and anything while outside it storms. You and he clean the kitchen after you finished dinner and then return to the living room for dessert and more chatting. 

You and he share the sofa. Hoseok is sipping on a glass of blood while you opted for hot cocoa. 

“Are you okay?”Hoseok asks, interrupting your monologue about your library experience today. 

“Why are you asking?”

“Cause you’ve been rubbing your shoulders since we sat down.”

“Oh yeah. I guess I’m just a little tense. My backbag was really heavy today and it fucked my shoulders. It hurts.”

“I can massage you.”

“Really?”

Hoseok nods his head.

“Yes please. Oh my god, my saviour”, you say and get off the couch to sit down in front of him. Hoseok hands you a blanket so you can cover your lower body and then he turns so you were between his legs and he could reach your shoulders. 

He rubs his hands together to warm them.

“Should I take off the hoodie?” you ask.

“No it’s fine. I’m starting. Is that okay for you?”

“Yes, it’s okay.”

With your consent, Hoseok places his hands on your shoulders. He begins his massage by rubbing the flat of his palms up and down your shoulders and arms.

“What did you wanna tell me before I interrupted you?” he asks.

“Mhm? Oh yeah! As I was saying, I tried to use the computer to look for the book and it didn’t show me anything.”

“Oh no. How did you find it then?”

Hoseok begins rubbing circles into your shoulders, looking for the tighter areas so he could relax them. 

“That’s when it gets cool because I used magic to find it.” 

“Yo, really?”

“Yes, really. I concentrated really hard and thought of the words Yoongi taught me and then suddenly, I heard a small bell sound.”

“A bell sound?” Hoseok gasps. He is putting pressure into his touches, relaxing the tense areas. They are hard under his fingertips, no wonder you were in pain.

“Yeah seriously, a bell sound. And it became louder the closer I got to the book and then bam.”

Hoseok gasps.

“The book was right there. In front of my eyes.”

“Okay that’s so funky. What the hell?”

You snicker, nodding your head.

“I felt like a real witch then. I almost yelled until I realised I was at the library.”

Hoseok chuckles, “you’re seriously so cool. I know who to call if I ever lose something again.”

“Yes please do. Ah”, you tense up, “ah geez, it hurts.”

“Relax. You’re too tense”, Hoseok says.

“It hurts a lot, you know?”

“I know. You’re really tight in this area”, he says, digging his thumbs into the area.

“I know, ah geez”, you hiss, writhing in discomfort, “no need to break my shoulders, ah.”

“I’m not even using a lot of my strength”, he defends himself and lessens the pressure, “how’s that?”

“Yeah, it’s better. Sorry, I’m a little wimp when it comes to getting massaged.”

“It’s chill. I can be gentle”, he says, rubbing circles into your neck.

You feel yourself shiver. Not only because of the relaxing touches, but also because of his words. You are very well aware that he didn’t mean them in a sexy way, but it’s difficult not to understand them in such a way when Yoongi’s words still run through your mind. You ogle the TV, then the armchair next to it. Yoongi told you what Hoseok did to him on that chair. You fumble with your own fingers, feeling your heart speed up in your chest. Would it be weird to bring it up right now? He is being such a good friend and you don’t want to make him uncomfortable by being a horny slut. You are aware that Hoseok is a very down to fuck kind of guy, but just because he is, doesn’t mean that he always has to be in the mood to be a horndog. He’s just a person after all and a person you love so very dearly.

“What’s wrong?” Hoseok asks, placing his delicate hands on your upper arms, “am I being too rough?”

“W-why do you ask?” you stutter.

“Your heart’s racing”, he says and rubs your arms, “I can stop if you don’t want to anymore.”

“No, I uhm, no. Hah”, you laugh breathily, “sorry, I was just thinking.”

“Okay? Do you wanna tell me?”

“It’s okay. I don’t wanna make you feel weird.”

“Dude, now you gotta tell me. You can’t just say that. I’m a nosy bastard”, he says, pushing you gently. He laughs.

You laugh, swaying back and forth.

“Yeah I guess”, you say.

“So? Tell me”, he encourages you.

You turn and lift your head so you can look up at him. Hoseok switches between looking into your right and left eye, letting his hands tangle between his legs.

“You gotta pinky promise not to be weird”, you say, lifting your hand.

Hoseok hooks his pinky finger with yours, “promise”, he says and seals it by pressing his thumb against yours, “now open your mouth and talk. You’re making me nervous.”

You lower your hand and take a deep breath, “I’d be down to watch your movies”, you say.

Hoseok gawks at you. His mouth falls open. The silence is intense. His eyes are almost round from how widely he opens them. His reaction is understandable and adorable.

“If you’d be down that is”, you add, giving him a little lopsided smile afterwards.

“I uh”, he lets out and blinks quickly. His air leaves him in a breathy laugh, his right hand comes to touch his chest, “a-are, are you sure?”

You nod your head, “I’m curious what all the talk is about”, you say and scoot closer to nudge his chest, “you’ve got Yoongi still talking about what you guys did that night.”

Hoseok exhales in a laugh and turns his head to the side. His hand shoots up to rub the side of his neck, coyness washes over his features.

“He does?”

“Yeah, totally. You know what he told me on the phone today?”

Hoseok shakes his head. He still isn’t looking at you, fumbling with his own ear nervously.

“That maybe you’ll show me your stuff and that I should have fun. You’ve seriously messed him up back then.”

“Yo dude that’s just- yo”, Hoseok says and stumbles off the couch, running his hands through his fluffy hair. He laughs, but it sounds nervous and so not at all like Hoseok.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him, following him with your eyes. He is prancing up and down, rubbing the nape of his neck.

“You’re messing with me, that’s what up. You?” he looks at you with widened eyes.

“What about me?”

“Outta all the people coming here begging for a fuck, you’d be last I expected this from.”

“Why?” you ask in a chuckle, “you’ve got Yoongi talking about it and Kook mentioning it when I fuck him dumb. I wanna see what the deal is about. Besides, I was just asking if we could watch your stuff, I never mentioned sex.”

Hoseok scoffs, “sure ___.”

You cross your arms in front of your chest and pout, “we don’t have to do it you know? Wow, I feel so attacked right now.”

Hoseok studies you for a moment.

“Yeah uhm, give me a moment”, he says and then leaves the room.

You boil in your loneliness, feeling like dying would be less awkward than what just happened. Out of all the reactions you expected Hoseok to have, pure shock and the need to flee wasn’t one of them. You expected gloating, pride, happiness and cocky teasing, but not for him to run away. You touch your own chest because the embarrassment you feel sits heavy in your chest. This was the most humiliating shit you ever pulled. Fuck, you want to dissolve into thin air.

You pull out your phone to text Yoongi and ask him if he could come pick you up, but before you can, Hoseok is back in the room. He is carrying a translucent hard plastic box filled with cassettes and DVDs.

“Sorry it took me a while, I had to make sure the collection’s complete”, he says and puts the box on the coffee table in front of you, “I still got a box upstairs. Let me get it”, he says and disappears again.

You have never felt lighter before. All the embarrassment from before is gone from your chest. He didn’t quit on you, he just got his stuff. You sit down on the edge of the sofa and begin looking through the box. The movies seem to be from the nineties and two thousands. He’s on a few covers. Naked and with a hard-on. You try not to look at it even if you were literally moments away from watching him fuck on TV.

“Okay, I think this should be everything now. I’ve also got my Only Fans, but you have to subscribe to see that stuff”, Hoseok says and places the second box next to the first one. The box was filled with DVDs and hard drives. He sits down next to you, close enough that your legs were touching, “see anything you like?” he asks, placing his arm around you. He doesn’t let it touch you, instead he just makes you hyperaware of its presence behind you. You feel yourself fluster because Hoseok has never been that close to you with an underlying sexual intention. Of course you and he hug and cuddle as friends, but initiating touch with the near future of fucking is new to you.

You turn your head to him. Hoseok meets your eyes. You and he are just inches away from kissing. The close proximity makes you feel giddy. He’s got really pretty eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, studying your eyes and then your lips.

“Nothing.”

“Nervous?”

You look away, “shut up.”

“Wah look at you”, Hoseok coos and bumps his chest into you playfully, “moments ago you wanted to watch my stuff and now you’re nervous about it.”

“Dude, shut up”, you complain.

Hoseok giggles and pulls you into him with a strong arm just so he can shake you around a little.

“Look at you being nervous.”

“Shut up”, you whine, “I’ll punch you in the balls, I’m serious.”

“Hey, hey don’t ruin what’ll benefit you later. My balls are precious cargo, ___.”

You roll your eyes, shoving him off of you, “you’re annoying.”

“Why? I’m just saying.”

“Urgh whatever”, you say and look back into the boxes.

Hoseok scoots closer and reaches into the first box. He pulls out a DVD. He is on the cover, oiled up and with his dick in his hands. You are looking right at it if you wanted to or not. It’s well-shaped, an impressive length and just girthy enough that you have to do a double take. It almost looks – to put it frankly – just a little bit out of place on him. He is a very petite guy, slender and fit, and his cock looks almost massive on his body. His elegant fingers look so small around it.

“Your dick’s huge, dude. What the hell?”

Hoseok laughs, “right? It’s my vampire cock though. People never noticed, but it comes in handy when you can grow your dick.”

“I can imagine. For porn it’s practical”, you say and glance at his face. 

He meets your eyes.

“I hope you know that this is really fucking awkward for me.”

He chuckles, “it’s not awkward for me.”

“I know. You’re an exhibitionist.”

“Right”, he nudges you gently, “don’t be awkward. It’s just me naked and very hard.”

He makes you laugh which lessens the awkwardness. 

“Yeah, right that’s the issue here. You’re my best friend and now I’m looking at your boner. I really didn’t think this through. Dude, that’s what happens when you massage me, I say stuff.”

“I’m your best friend?” he sounds moved. 

“Yeah. Well. Technically Yoongi’s like my bestest friend, but you’re my best friend. You know?”

“This just got really emotional right now. Thank you, ___”, he says and drapes his arm over you to pull you into a soft temple kiss. 

You lean into it, feeling good about it.

“You’re one of my best friends too”, he says and gives you a little squeeze, “we don’t have to do this, you know? It’s okay if you changed your mind.”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t wanna stop. I just have to live with the fact that now I know how huge your dick is.”

He laughs and lifts the DVD into your vision, “wanna know why I picked this?” 

“Cause your cock’s huge?”

He laughs, “no it’s because this is the movie I watched with Yoongi that got him all horny”, he says and flips the cover. His co-star is on the back, showing off his oiled-up hole. You do another double take not for cock reasons, but because the actor looks way too similar to Yoongi. Hoseok, who saw your eyes flit back for a second glimpse, grins, “you’re seeing it too, aren’t you?”

“I do. What the hell?” you gasp, grabbing the cover to get a closer look, “are sure that that’s not Yoongi and he just erased your memories back then?”

Hoseok laughs, “it could be a theory. But no, that’s Niragi. We did a few films together, but then lost contact.”

“It’s crazy how similar they look. Except for maybe their holes.”

Hoseok snort laughs, “___”, he gasps and nudges you.

You snicker, glancing at him, “I’m just saying. Yoongi’s not that loose.”

“I know. I felt it”, Hoseok says and looks at your lips.

You feel it, just as you feel your heart speed up because of it.

“We could watch that if you want”, he whispers.

“Intriguing, but I wanna see you act with a woman. Got something that looks like me?”

He chuckles, “babygirl, no one’s ever come close to your beauty”, he partially jokes.

You roll your eyes and nudge his chest, “sweet talker.”

He smirks and shrugs his shoulders. He gives your lips one last hungry gaze then finally looks back into the boxes, “I’ve got something you could like. You like female gaze stuff, don’t you?”

“Do I give off those vibes?”

“With the men you date? Yeah.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask in a laugh.

“They’re at your feet worshipping your every step. I’d be surprised if they even as much as called you bad girl in bed.”

You snort, “you’d be surprised then.”

“Mhm, surprise me”, Hoseok purrs and pulls out a black hard drive, “that’s where the good shit is”, he says and stands up, “get ready for a good show ‘cause I fucked like rent’s due in this movie.”

“I’m expecting great things, you know that don’t you?”

Hoseok squats down in front of his TV.

“Yeah, I do”, he glances at you over his shoulder. He lifts it after a second and giggles, “shit, I’m nervous now. You’re gonna watch my shit.”

You study him. He is so attractive to you right now. Shit, you’re getting horny. It’s so easy to get you turned on.

“Or, I don’t know, we could skip the movie and make out instead?”

Hoseok hesitates. Hoseok takes a deep breath. Hoseok looks at your lips. And Hoseok places the hard drive aside just to stand up and hurry to you. He falls to his knees in front of you, placing his hands on your knees. Like this, you are almost face to face, sharing intense silence and even more intense eye contact.

“Is this a yes?” you ask him.

He nods his head, looking at your lips.

You move in, but Hoseok moves back.

“Mhm?” you are confused.

“I just need to know that this isn’t gonna ruin what we have”, he says. You never heard him with such seriousness in his voice before, “I like you so much and I don’t wanna lose you just ‘cause of one night. If tonight’s gonna fuck us up, I don’t wanna continue.”

“It’s not gonna ruin it for me. You?”

“It’s not gonna ruin it, no fuck”, he laughs breathily, “fuck, I wanted to make out with you for ages. Not that I’m one of those desperate dudes thinking they’re friendzoned, it’s just that I kiss my friends if they’re into it. Or fuck them. And show them my porn.”

You laugh, “I know, Hobi. We’re not traditional. None of us.”

“Yeah, it’s the fucking best”, he says and moves in, cupping your cheek with both hands. His nose brushes yours, your heart skips a beat. He is looking at your lips as he talks, caressing your cheeks, “one last chance.”

“Shut up, Hobi”, you whisper and pull him in with your hand at the nape of his neck.

Hoseok stumbles into you, moaning against your lips as he scrambles to find your rhythm. You didn’t give him a difficult rhythm to follow, no, Hoseok is just simply overwhelmed by the sensation of feeling your lips on his’.

You pull back. Hoseok is looking at your lips with half-lidded eyes and a faint smile.

“Did you brush your teeth?” you ask him.

“Yeah”, he says and pulls you back into the kiss. His hand comes in contact with the side of your face before naturally gliding down to hold the side of your neck. His fingers are long enough that you can feel them brush against the nape of your neck. The touch sends the biggest shivers down your spine.

You moan into the kiss and hook your arms behind his head, tangling your fingers deep in his hair. It’s softer than you imagined it to be and that means a lot because you imagined it to be soft. Hoseok also kisses so much better than you imagined him to kiss. He knows just when to give your lips a little suck, when to involve his teeth and when to let you do your thing. His tongue also knows exactly when to trace your lips to make you crave more.

“Shit, you’re so good”, Hoseok murmurs between kissing you, standing up with his arms hooked under your legs. He lifts you off the couch easily, purring deeply when you press yourself closer and bite his lower lip. You are squirming in his arms. Just as Hoseok had thought. You’re into getting carried.

He bounces you in his arms and finally allows his tongue to stay involved for longer than a small trace. You moan, meeting his kisses with eagerness. His lips are so soft, he tastes so good and whenever he bounces you there is friction against your pussy. 

Hoseok purrs, walking with a dizzy head. He is so happy for his vampire senses right now, because you are stealing his sanity. This isn’t the first kiss you and he shared, but it feels like it to him. The night at the masquerade ball is a memory in his mind these days. It happened so many years ago and is tainted by the fun influence of alcohol. But this isn’t the result of alcohol, this is untainted and real. Hoseok almost stumbles up the stairs because he’s so excited.

He stops once he is upstairs, pressing you against the wall to break the kiss.

“Shit baby. Can I call you baby for tonight?” he rasps and begins kissing neck.

You roll your head back, revealing your vulnerable spots to him.

“Yeah, you can”, you sigh, playing with his hair and sending shivers down his spine in the process.

“You’re so fucking hot, baby. Fuck”, Hoseok moans. His breath tickles your skin, his lips follow. It feels so good that you can’t stop gasping and squirming in his arms.

There was another occasion where you and he shared a kiss. Back when Alpha was still evil and you still hated Yoongi, you came to Hoseok’s room to comfort him after a fight with Yoongi. You and Hoseok talked and somehow the conversation shifted into you giving him a kiss. Back then, Hoseok was high after smoking too much weed and the kiss felt blurry to him.

Tonight feels like fucking ecstasy to him. He is clear in the head and gets to kiss you so fucking passionately. He growls, letting his fangs grace your skin. This is turning him on so fucking bad. He sucks needily.

“Ah, Hobi”, you gasp, arching your back.

The contact breaks because he pulled back.

“Sorry, fuck”, he apologises, kissing the tender spot. He got too excited and sucked a hickey onto your skin. Now the spot is pulsating in sensitivity, “fuck, I can’t believe this is real. You’re so fucking sexy. Fuck, baby”, he growls and rolls his hips into you. His clothed cock grinds against your clothed pussy, sending electric tingles through your bodies.

You and he moan at the same time. You pull him closer while he chases you with another thrust.

You tug his head up by his hair and give him a second of droopy eye contact before you push him onto your lips. He finds your rhythm instantly, sharing the sloppiest tongue kisses with you. He growls into you, breaking away from the wall to carry you to his room. It’s not far anymore and he needs you under him.

He doesn’t bother closing the door because it’s just you and him in this big house. Nobody can run in on you and it doesn’t matter if the door is closed or not, he’ll have you screaming for him either way. No door will keep the noises out.

He places you on top his bed and steps back to take off his shirt. He throws it onto the ground, looking at you with lowered eyes.

“Couldn’t you have turned the lights on?” you ask in a chuckle.

“Ah yeah, sorry I forgot you can’t see in the dark”, he says and turns on his bedside lamp, "better?" 

You look at him instantly, letting your eyes run up and down his torso. Hoseok falls into a pose instantly, taking off his sweats as he does. He keeps his briefs on. They’re the bikini cut type, dark blue and bulging in the front. He is very obviously hard, forcing your eyes to stay on his crotch.

“You’re so hot”, you say, writhing needily.

“Thanks”, he says and climbs onto bed. He takes the spot above you, claiming your lips in a kiss. He keeps his left hand rested beside your head while his right hand dances down your body to play with the hem of your sweats. Your lips tremble against his’, your hands touch his chest. He breaks the kiss but keeps close, “is that okay for me to do?”

“Yeah” you allow him, lifting your hips.

“Thank you. You can always stop this”, he says and takes off your pants.

“I know. You too”, you tell him, writhing needily.

Hoseok wastes no time and takes off your boxers as well, throwing them on the bed beside him. The hoodie he borrowed you is long enough that it covers your pussy. You squirm on the sheets, pressing your thighs together as best as possible. 

“Nervous?” he asks.

“A little. You?”

“Yeah, dude”, he laughs breathily, “I’m so fucking nervous. I could shit myself.”

You laugh, “please don’t.”

He snickers, “mhm no, I won’t”, he whispers and kisses your neck. 

You close your eyes, rolling your head to the side as a happy sigh slips past your lips. 

Hoseok pushes your legs apart with his knees, running his right hand down your torso while his left is propped up beside your head. He listens to your heartbeat for any kind of change. It is racing and increases in speed the further down his hand dances. 

Hoseok nudges your head so it rolls to the other side and he can kiss your neck there. You purr softly, squirming under him. Your pulse is fluttering. Hoseok moves closer to your pussy. Your heart skips a beat. He swerves past your heat and feels up your inner thighs instead.

Up and down. Up and down. Hoseok traces your soft skin with just his fingertips. He comes close enough to your pussy that you know his touch is there and yet never close enough that you can feel it. It’s making you squirm more and more. 

You reach up, placing your hands on his chest.

“Hobi”, you sigh, sliding your fingers to his nipples. You rub them gently, eliciting a deep purr from him.

“Mhm keep going. I like it”, he rasps and bites your earlobe softly, “is it okay for me to touch your pussy?”

“Yes, is okay. You fucking tease”, you allow him, rolling your hips up.

“Mhm yeah”, he agrees and dances his fingers up your inner thigh.

You shiver. The thought that soon you will feel his touch is making his fingers feel so much better on your skin. 

Hoseok touches you.

“Ah”, you let out, feeling his chest vibrate in a deep purr. His fingers part you for him, starting off at your entrance and painting a path up to your clit. He does a swirl when he’s reached her, then dances his fingers down to your entrance again. It is a gentle touch, barely any pressure is involved. You have to keep squirming because these kinds of touches always feel so much more intense. 

Hoseok puts distance between your neck and his lips. He studies your face and how you have it scrunched in pleasure. He takes a shaky breath, bundling the sheets next to your head. He’s so into this.

“I wanna taste you”, he confesses, “is it ok-” 

“Yeah…” you interrupt him in a breathy voice and your body writhing sensually.

“Shit, you’re hot”, he rasps and abandons you for the sake of shimmying down. He kneels by the bed and wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling you closer to his face.

He looks up. Your eyes are focused on the ceiling, you are breathing heavily. Pretty. He thinks you’re so pretty. 

He switches his gaze to your pussy. Your sweetened scent is taking up his senses. He lowers his eyes halfway, running them over your exposed heat. Kissing made you wet. It sticks to you and waits to be devoured. 

“So fucking pretty”, Hoseok growls deeply and connects his mouth with your pussy. 

He drags his tongue through your folds, starting on your entrance until he reaches your clit. You gasp, hold your breath and release it in a quiet whimper. 

Hoseok purrs, pressing his tongue against you. He shakes his head, grinding on you this way. This is still a warm up. He’s barely began. You’re so sweet and he needs all of it on his tongue. No wonder your boys are obsessed. Hoseok feels himself get addicted as well. 

He stops shaking his head and moves it so his tongue dances up your pussy. He flicks it against your clit, feeling your thighs twitch in reaction. So he does it again. He flicks his tongue against your clit quickly, holding your thighs as they begin trembling. 

“Oh god”, you whisper and reach for his hair. You stop yourself. You drop your hand. 

“It’s okay. Hold on if you need it”, he allows you and uses the moment to also praise you, “your pussy tastes so good. Fuck, I wanna devour you.” 

“O-oh god”, you stutter out and writhe. 

“Mhm, so sweet”, Hoseok purrs, burying his face back in your heat. His nose is grinding against you as he sucks on your clit. He keeps you pinned with his strong arms around your thighs, making you take every single second of the hungry feast. 

You whimper and reach for his hair to grab it desperately. Your other arm lies itself over your own eyes. 

“Fuck. Hoseok….”

Hoseok closes his eyes and moans into you. He releases your clit, slurping up his drool running down your folds. You tug and twist his hair, trembling in his hold. 

“Hold onto me, that’s it. Good girl”, he lulls his words because you’ve got him pussy drunk. It’s only been a few moments, Hoseok is aware, but he fucking loves eating pussy. Especially when that pussy belongs to his pretty best friend with her pretty moans and prettier taste. 

Hoseok lowers himself for the sake of burying his tongue in your pussy. His long fingers grip your hips and tilt them for easier access. His nose is pressed against you, grinding into you each time he fucks his tongue deep. 

“Hoseok oh god”, you get out and choke out a moan, arching your back because it’s impossible to stay still when he is filling you up like this. 

He breaks away, letting his spit connect himself with you. 

“So fucking sweet, baby. You’ve got such a heavenly pussy”, he praises and spits on her for contrast.

“Ah”, you flinch at the feeling, writhing seconds later when Hoseok slurps up the sinful mess, “Hobi please.”

Hoseok moans, looking up at you again. You’re begging. You’re that type of person. He slips his hand into his briefs to get his cock out because the revelation makes his cock ache. He jerks it off desperately, fucking his tongue deep into your sweet pussy. Those people are his favourites. Oh so ruined by pleasure they start begging without knowing what they’re even begging for. He fucking loves them. 

Fuck, he wants to drag every single plea from your tongue. Hoseok furrows his brows and growls against you, speeding up his tongue as he presses himself as close as possible. 

“Oh god, please”, you keen, twisting his hair. Your thighs close around his head. You have to grab more of him or otherwise you are losing yourself. He is so fast and sloppy. And so chillingly cool. Because he only consumed blood bags lately, his skin is cold to the touch and yet his mouth carries enough warmth to give you a constant change of temperature. One second his cold nose is grinding against your clit and in the next, his hot tongue follows. The contrast is keeping you on edge and desperate for more. 

“Please ah”, you beg and grab his wrist. 

Hoseok untangles his left hand from your thigh, sliding it together with your hand. You squeeze him instantly. Your palm is damp and hot.

You writhe and shake, pressing out another plea.

Hoseok growls, looking up at you with darkened eyes. You’re so fucking precious. Look at you needing to hold his hand. You are squeezing him oh so desperately that he wonders if you want to never let go again. He brushes his thumb over your knuckles in soothing and begins concentrating his licks on your clit. 

No more playing around. He needs you shaking. 

He switches between licking your clit and sucking on it, combining the two sensations until they become this electric blend of never ending pleasure.

“This is gonna make me cum”, you get out and whimper, writhing on the sheets. 

Good. Hoseok wants you to climax. This is all he is working towards right now. Your sweet, sweet orgasm on the tip of his tongue. Hoseok dreamed about it for years. He hate fucks his own fist in desperation, making love to your pussy in contrast. 

“Hobi this is- ah”, you press out and shudder. You tug at his hair, closing your thighs tighter around his head. 

He can hear your blood rush deep inside your muscles. It is rushing and pulsating oh so fucking quickly. He squeezes his eyes shut and sucks your clit between his lips to keep it there and swirl his tongue over it.

“Ah”, you get out and grow silent. You tense up before growing slack within the blink of an eye. Your pussy begins throbbing under his tongue. He’s got you. 

“Oh god, ah”, you mewl, filling the air with squeaky moans afterwards. This feels so good. Your legs feel like jello, the heat in your pussy is unbearable. He’s got you climaxing so fucking hard that you actually feel too ruined to keep breathing.

You grab his hair and fuck your hips up against his face, needing it to last so much fucking longer. 

Hoseok lets you hump his face with desperate moans leaving him. He keeps his tongue stuck out, basking in every new layer of sweetness you cover his nose with. Shit, he won’t get rid of your scent for days. It’s so deeply burned into him. Hoseok’s in fucking heaven, soiling his hand in his excitement. He isn’t orgasming, he is just very leaky. 

“Oh go-god”, you soon drop into the sheets, shuddering in the aftermaths of your high. Your fingers fall from his hair and let go of his hand, “holy fuck.” 

Hoseok purrs and gives your clit a kiss. He sucks on her one last time even if you flinch in overstimulation. You had to take it, Hoseok needed one last reminder of your sweet taste. 

“Good girl”, he rasps and smiles, “you’re such a good girl, babygirl.”

You mewl quietly, squirming from the praise. 

Hoseok drops your thighs for the sake of feeling up your sides as he kisses a path up to your face. His hard cock keeps leaking onto you as he goes. He can’t help it, he’s so fucking needy for more.

He kisses your neck. You press into him instantly, rolling your head to the side until your nose brushes against his cheek. 

Hoseok lifts his head, meeting your droopy gaze. You smile and giggle. Hoseok feels his tummy flutter. He gives you his prettiest heart-shaped smile and a little giggle with a nose scrunch. 

“We just did that”, you say.

“Yeah right. I loved it”, he says.

“Me too”, you confess and touch his mouth.

Hoseok lets you with bated breath and parted lips. You are so mesmerised by his lips, looking so utterly enchanted by them.

“Your lips are pretty”, you whisper and trace one specific spot repeatedly, “you’ve got a mole there. It’s pretty.”

“Uhm”, Hoseok lets out and lowers his head because he’s actually flustered.

You snicker and drop your hand to instead touch his wrist.

“Can I suck your cock?” 

Hoseok lifts his head again in shock, “sorry?”

“Can I suck your cock? I promise I won’t bite it off.”

He laughs, feeling his entire body tingle in butterflies. You snicker, gazing up at him with sparkly, yet lustful eyes. 

“Can I?” you ask, tracing his pecs with your nails. His nipples harden instantly, throbbing oh so needily when you brush your fingers over them.

“Fuck, I’m fucked what the fuck”, he lets out and rolls off of you.

“Why?” you ask, straddling his lap.

Hoseok sits up, gripping your hips. Your wet pussy is dripping onto his thigh, your weight is like heaven on his lap. He gazes up at you, drinking in every fucking inch of your face.

“I’m so fucking into you that it’s giving me butterflies”, he whispers.

“Good”, you say and push him down by his chest. He falls, letting out a breathy moan as his back hits the sheets. His hair is ruffled, his hands fall on each side of his head and stay there.

“Stay”, you order and crawl off of him. You run your hands down his body and take off his briefs as you go, eliciting goosebumps to the surface of his skin. He moans quietly, chasing your touch with squirms.

“Feels good”, he whispers and rolls his hips up in synch with your hands parting his legs by rubbing his inner thighs, “ah, yeah feels really good. Hah”, he lets out and laughs breathily.

Hoseok’s bed is low enough that you can kneel comfortably and reach his cock. You do so, dragging him to the edge as you fall to your knees. Hoseok mewls in reaction, gasping for fucking air. His body is burning up. You are fucking messing with him. Your knees hit the floor. The fluffy rug under you gives extra cushioning.

You reach the end of his inner thighs, rubbing circles into the spot where his groin blends into them. Hoseok parts his legs further. His cock twitches needily. You can also watch how his chest begins heaving up and down as his breathing speeds up in excitement.

You glide your right hand to his cock, placing your palm against the upper side of it while your fingers stay stretched. You don’t want to give him too many touches yet. You want your tongue to be the first thing he feels.

Hoseok sucks in air.

You move in and connect your tongue with his base, licking up a thick, wet stripe along the underside of his cock until ending it with a quick flick on his tip.

“Shit”, Hoseok releases his air in a breathy moan, closing his fingers around the sheets right next to his head. He can barely grip them, but it has to be enough. Your tongue feels like fucking heaven on his cock and he’s already burning up.

You hum and drag your tongue down his cock again, swirling it over his balls to get a good feel of them. His skin is soft and cool against your tongue. He throbs at the first contact, making you want more because it was so delicious to have him throb for you. You suck the sensitive skin of his balls between your lips just long enough that it stings a little.

Hoseok reacts in a throaty moan and his hips squirming restlessly. You release him again, guiding your wet tongue up his cock in repeated small, yet terribly sloppy licks. It results in his shaft getting all slickened with your spit. You use it to finally wrap your fingers around him and jerk him off, taking his cockhead between your lips at the same time.

“A-ah”, Hoseok moans, reaching down to grab the back of your head. His hips buck up, forcing his cock to glide over your tongue, and drops his hips again, which almost makes his cock flop out of your greedy mouth.

You let him hold your head. He clearly needs it. You force down the cocky smirk and instead hum around him as you begin bopping your head up and down his cock. You jerk off what you decide not to fit inside right now and dance your left hand up his torso until you can play with his nipples.

Hoseok is moaning so much. He tries not to be too loud, but he genuinely can’t stop his voice from working. He gasps for air and each time he exhales, it happens naturally that he makes the neediest of sounds.

You like what he does. You find great enjoyment in making men noisy for you. There is something very satisfying about using your mouth or hands to turn an otherwise well-spoken man into a moaning mess. Somehow making Hoseok moan feels even more satisfying to you. It is as if you want to prove something to him and show off with what you can do, so hearing him be so incredibly noisy feels as if you are being very successful.

You slip off of him for a moment, spitting on his cock just to pick it up with your hand and spread it in quick movements.

“Holy shit”, Hoseok whispers and arches off the sheets, “ah, a-ah what the fuck?”

His legs are shaking and he can’t do anything against it. Not many people manage to do that to him. Hoseok drops his hand from your head to instead grip the sheets and twist them. His cock twitches and throbs so nicely between your fingers, leaking translucent desperation which aches to be tasted.

“What the actual fuck?” he gets out and squeaks in a moan.

You purr and take him back inside, sucking off his wetness until he writhes under you. Now with his tip incredibly sensitive, you finally take him inside as deep as you can.

Hoseok moans your name and throws his head back, resulting in the sheets to crinkle and his chest to stick up into the air. Your fingers can’t reach his nipples this way, but you don’t mind. You take his balls between your fingers instead, fondling them as your throat jerks off his cock.

“You’re making me cum”, he gets out and groans. His right foot meets your thigh as somehow in his shakes, he manages to step on you. He doesn’t slip off, instead he uses the leverage to arch his back. He gasps, throbbing deep inside your mouth, “I’ll cum in your mouth, it’s gon-gonna happen, ah fuck.”

You moan around him, sending vibrations through his cock.

“Now, ah ___”, Hoseok moans and drops in the sheets as his orgasm takes a hold of him. He twitches and throbs inside you, covering your throat with his warm cum until it gets too much to hold and it trickles out of you. You slurp and suck hungrily, using the excess cum to jerk his cock.

Hoseok is quiet for eight seconds and then his voice finally comes back to him in a guttural growl, “holy fuuuck. What the fuuuck? Shiiit.”

He rolls his hips up needily, riding out the electric waves until the fire takes a hold of him.

“Fuck, okay. Stop”, he says, flinching in overstimulation.

You suck and suck on his tip even if it’s burning up.

“Stop please”, he begs, touching your head with trembling fingers, “hurts. Stop. Please.”

You slide off of him with a delicious moan and swallow, licking your lips just to get the droplets he left outside as well. He tastes so sweet. It’s insane how yummy vampires are. It’s like they are begging to be feasted upon. How paradisically ironic.

“Holy shit, ___. What the fuck was that?” Hoseok gets out as his legs twitch in the aftershocks.

“What do you mean? I sucked your cock”, you act oblivious on purpose, kissing paths up his thighs.

“You made my legs shake.”

“And?”

Hoseok sits up and cups your face just to pull you to your feet and therefore into a kiss. He uses his powers to get you on top of the bed and under him again. His knee is between your legs, his hands are restless on your body. He is moaning greedily, licking into your mouth as if he wanted to taste himself on you. You let him, tangling your fingers in his soft hair as your hips naturally begin squirming on his thigh. Shit, sucking his cock made you so wet. You can feel it sticking to his skin. You squirm harder, chasing the sensations. It feels so good to grind on him.

“What the fuck”, Hoseok breaks the kiss to instead very sloppily suck on your neck, “what the fuck? I’m done. That’s how you suck cock?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Dude, no wonder you’ve got your men wrapped around your fingers. Holy shit”, he babbles and shivers, “you’ve got me shivering in the aftershock. My legs never shake like this.”

“Mhm good”, you purr and squirm sensually.

“You’re fucking insane”, he rasps and reaches between your bodies. He can feel how wet you are and he is still hard as ever. You’ve also messed with his mind enough that he can’t think clearly anymore. All he wants is to fuck your pussy. The proper, respectful Hoseok is gone. You’ve turned him feral with your tongue. He shifts so his hips were between your legs and then drags his heavy cock through your folds. They feel so wet and puffy around his tip, moving right around him as he guides his cock against you.

“Oh? Ah”, you gasp and open your eyes, meeting his gaze, “Hobi…” you get out, scratching down the back of his neck just to grab his shoulders in the end.

His eyes are glowing red. His ivory cheeks are covered in black veins. You rarely see him in his vampiric state, so this is properly messing you up.

“I wanna take you”, he says and slaps his cockhead against your clit repeatedly. It sounds wet, makes you flinch and moan softly with each impact, “do you want me to?”

You nod your head, “yes.”

Hoseok gives your clit one last spank, then drags his cock down to your soaked entrance. He applies pressure and slips in without resistance.

“Holy fuck”, you and he get out at the same time, resulting in your eyes to meet knowingly.

“Jinx”, you joke and laugh softly.

Hoseok’s lips curl into a fond smile. He chuckles and tilts his head to the side, using the movement to lower himself to your face.

“Kidding, you can talk”, you say, making him laugh just as much as he moans. It results in those really deep, sexy chuckles, the kind which really messes with your sanity.

“You’re too much”, he rasps and bottoms out. He stays like this for a moment, closing his eyes to really enjoy how your walls pulsate and throb around him. He can also feel your heartbeat in them. It’s a vampire thing and means that it takes everything inside of Hoseok not to let his cock grow. He doesn’t know if your boys give you their vampire cocks and just in case they don’t, he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. Oh how sweetly naïve he is.

He furrows his brows and purrs deeply, nodding his head as if he agreed with what is happening right now.

“Yeah, you’re definitely fucking incredible”, he says and peels his eyes open halfway, “can I move?”

“Yeah. Move.”

With your consent, Hoseok finally picks up a rhythm. He really drags out his strokes, including a skilled roll of his hips each time he bottoms out. He knows that he doesn’t need to go fast to make you gasp.

And it works. Two strokes in and you release your first gasp, closing your eyes instinctively as his cock fucks the hottest electricity to the surface.

“How’s that, baby?” he asks in a whisper as his hand caresses the top of your head gently.

You nod your head, giving him a little mewl.

“Mhm, it’s fucking amazing for me too”, he says and closes his eyes, “shit, you feel so good.”

He straightens up, pressing his right hand into the pillow and grabbing a bundle of it. His muscles tense and shift under his ivory skin. The red neon lights really accentuate how strong he was despite his lean frame. He meets your eyes, feeling his stomach tighten in excitement. You look so blissed out, staring up at him with heavy, half-lidded eyes. He gives you a smile, overwhelming you with it to the point where your eyes roll back and close and you let out a needy whimper. You writhe under him, reaching up to grab his wrist.

“You’re so fucking pretty, holy shit”, Hoseok rasps and tenses his jaw.

“Harder”, you breathe.

“Yeah?”

You nod your head, wiggling your hips.

“Fuck baby, that’s hot”, Hoseok moans and gets to his knees. He lifts your legs and wraps them around his waist. You mewl under him, gawking up at him with foggy eyes. The stretch follows seconds later when Hoseok buries his girthy cock in your puffy pussy, bottoming out with a sensual roll of his hips and a deep purr rumbling in his chest.

“Hobi…”

“That’s it, take me”, he speaks in a deep voice, keeping you pinned with his ruby eyes, “take a deep breath for me, babygirl.”

You follow, feeling your mind scramble when Hoseok smiles proudly.

“Good job, babygirl. Keep breathing”, he praises and rewards you with deep strokes.

Your breath shudders, your senses blur. He is so rough in his movements and yet they are still so gentle. It is difficult to describe other than that Hoseok knows how to move his fucking hips and he is currently making sure you know that he can.

“That’s it, babygirl. That’s it, keep breathing”, he rasps, sliding his hand to your lower tummy so he can apply gentle pressure.

You writhe and mewl loudly, squeezing your eyes shut. You can feel his cock reshape your insides. He is so fucking deep. Oh god, you are so sensitive inside that every time he bottoms out, you feel fiery pleasure in your entire stomach.

“Fuck, your pussy’s so fucking tight like this. Gotta stretch it all out with my fat cock, mhm?” he taunts, making you whine in both embarrassment and pleasure. He’s got the dirtiest tongue. You feel yourself soaking his cock in reaction.

Hoseok pulls out to the tip, dragging it through your swollen folds. Once, twice, a third time to really mess with your mind. He pushes back inside and gives you his whole length with a harsh thrust. The kind of thrust which knocks a sound out of you and produces the most sinful of slapping sound. You could even feel his heavy balls hit your ass.

“Please…please…”

He moans in bliss from hearing you beg, showing you just how good he can reshape you by pulling out to his tip and fucking into you again. Harshly, just like before. He doesn’t stop after one thrust, keeping the rhythm going as his long fingers slip to your clit to begin circling her.

“Ah! Oh god! Hob-ah a-ah.”

“Feels good, babygirl?”

“Ye-yeah, yeah, yeah”, he fucks the words out of you. You try to nod your head, but you just end up shaking it around on the sheets rather clumsily. It gives your hair such a sexy messiness to it, “yes. Yes, yes, yes please don’t stop”, you chant, clenching around him.

“I won’t. I can do this for hours”, he rasps and fills you with his cock oh so deep.

Hoseok drinks up the view like an obsessed connoisseur. Fuck, you’re the sweetest artwork he ever looked at. He’s got you, doesn’t he? After years and years of imagining how it might be to fuck you, he’s finally got you. And it’s fucking better than any fantasy he could have ever thought up.

“It feels so goo-good”, you sob, spilling tears from the corners of your eyes.

“‘Feels good for me too. Fuck”, Hoseok spits the last word, falling to his hand so he was right above you. Your hips tilt up, allowing his cock to pound you in a better angle. His right hand is still playing with your clit, keeping her throbbing and sensitive. His weight is on you, keeping you where he needs you to be. Wrapped around him and stuffed with cock.

“Hobi”, you mewl, spilling new tears because everything just feels too good.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, yes ah yes.”

“Fuck, I love hearing that”, he moans, “you’re driving me insane”, he adds and kisses you. He can’t take it anymore. He needs to taste your moans, your sobs and gasps for air. His fangs clash with your teeth messily, but you have enough practice with kissing vampires that you find the right rhythm soon. Sloppy, wet tongue kisses. Desperate sucks and nibbles on each other’s lips. Moments where moans are mixing and breaths intertwine. Your fingers bury themselves deep in his soft hair, his fingers increase the pressure on your clit.

You can’t grasp the passage of time when he’s got you fucked so good. Hoseok doesn’t care about it either, basking in the blissful time vacuum with you as your bodies connect in harsh strokes. Outside the storm calms down. Outside the night arrives with dark skies and quiet streets. While inside, the red lights keep you illuminated and your bodies get ruined in the sweetest way. 

“Holy fuck, Hobi ah”, you whimper, writhing under him. He’s fucked you long enough that you’re almost there.

“Yeah, that’s good mhm? So fucking good”, he lulls, dragging his lips up your neck, “fuck, you’re so fucking wet. Keep creaming my cock baby, I love it.” 

“You’re making me cum soon.”

“Yeah?” he moans against your lips, “fuck that’s hot. Don’t hold back, babygirl. I’ve got you.”

“Hobi, I have to- ah, I have to, to...I have…”

“It’s okay, everything’s okay. Don’t be scared, I’ve got you. I’m right here.”

His words are like the most wonderful hug to you. You feel so safe. He fills you with so much warmth and tingles that you fall over the edge with a whimper of his name and your legs pulling him closer.

Hoseok slows down his thrusts, keeping his cock buried deep and giving you sensual circles so your favourite spots would experience the fire as well. He presses his fingers against your clit, letting her experience warmth and pressure. This feels so good. There are no words for how good he makes you feel.

“That’s it, you’re doing such a good job. Good girl, you’re doing such a good job”, he talks you through it, making it even better with every sweet word he speaks.

You drop the back you didn’t even know you were arching and grab the nape of his neck.

“Hobi, holy fuck”, you choke out and pull his face into the crook of your neck.

“Ah, hey”, he falls with a chuckle and his right hand slamming into the pillow beside your head. It closes around the pillow desperately when seconds later, you are rutting up into him. Your legs are locked around his hips, keeping them from fleeing (not that he wanted to), your pussy is so tight around him.

Hoseok’s voice pitches, his body shudders uncontrollably.

“What are you doing?” he squeaks out, twisting the pillow, “a-ah holy fuck please slow, I’ll cum. Slow, you’re making me cum, s-slow ah.”

“Fill me up, please. Hobi please wanna be creamed”, you beg and twist his hair. You are cockdrunk. There is no denying that. He made you cum so fucking hard that all you want right now is for him to paint your walls white.

“Shit, ah”, he trembles, “shit, holy shit, ah fuck”, he pants and chases your hips in quick ruts. Four strokes it takes him, four strokes and then it gets all too much for him. He climaxes with a pitched moan of your name and his left arm pulling you against his chest.

“Yes, ah Hobi. Thank you”, you mewl, holding him close as his cock fills you with his hottest orgasm.

“You feel so good”, he gets out and drops on top of you. He shudders, exhaling against your neck with a defeated sound leaving him, “holy fuck.”

“Yeah”, you agree, snuggling your cheek against his head. You run your fingers up and down his spine, lingering on his head for some hair play each time you meet it.

“What the actual fuck”, he murmurs.

“Liked it?”

“I’m dead. What the fuck.”

You snicker, sighing happily afterwards.

It takes the two of you a few minutes of silence to really come down. Hoseok keeps lying on top of you, stealing some of your body heat as his cock slowly softens inside you. He’s got you so messy. It is seeping out of you even with his cock inside. You wanted to get up and clean, but he just told you to relax and that he will clean the sheets later.

It was a lull of his words before he grew silent again.

You like the silence. It’s relaxing and helps your brain to reboot. You need that because he really fucked you dumb.

Hoseok lifts his head when his mood lights switch to pink. Silence. His eyes race between yours. He is propped on his elbows, keeping your head caged in safely.

“What?” you ask him.

“Nothing just…” he kisses your lips. It is a sweet kiss. The kind of kiss a lover gives his precious counterpart. It leaves flutters in your chest once he lifts his head again.

Silence.

Eyes race between each other.

The light switches back to red.

He runs the back of his hand down your cheek.

“You’re so beautiful”, he whispers, making your heart flutter.

“You’re beautiful too, Hobi”, you breathe, reaching up to caress his cheek.

His eyes lower just a little bit, a shy smile curls his lips.

“Shit ___, you’ve got me feeling romantic. What have you done to me?” he says and snickers.

“Is that bad?” you ask.

“No, it’s just”, he shudders, “giving me the shivers. Mhm fuck”, he says and nuzzles his face into your neck as he lets out a cute sound. He smooches you just once before the nuzzling continues.

You giggle, wrapping your arms around him in a hug.

“You’re still staying the night, yeah?”

“Of course. Why shouldn’t I?”

“The storm stopped.”

“Right. I didn’t even notice”, you say and giggle when he tickles your ear with his breath.

He chuckles softly, giving you a tender kiss on your ear.

“Fuck, you really did it to me”, he whispers with a smile on his lips and his nose nuzzling into the side of your head.

“The feeling’s mutual, Hobi”, you snicker, ruffling his hair.

“Mhm good, yeah that’s good”, Hoseok says and pulls you closer, “so like, why did it take us years to do that?”

“Our lives have been busy, haven’t they? I feel like it’s only slowly been beginning to calm down.”

“Yeah, right. Shit”, he giggles again, “I’m giddy like a little boy. You’re amazing.” 

“You’re cute, Hobi”, you whisper fondly.

It isn’t necessary to mention that Hoseok will be the one to break the news to Yoongi the next day. Hoseok will drive you to class after shared breakfast and he will pick you up again, he will drive you to the estate and then greet Yoongi with a “she just changed my life.” To which Yoongi lets a small smile escape followed by a kiss to your cheek and a teasing “I thought you wanted to change all our lives, Hoba. What happened?”

[sunkendreams]

I'm not really that familiar with 'The lost boys'

But, at the moment i just can help but think about any of them just absolutely going feral for reader in their period;

Just- top tier pussy eating and indulging while helping reader ease the pain.

This can either go really dark or really *really* soft :))

once bitten, twice shy.

( paul x fem!reader x marko. )

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. | paul x fem!reader x marko (paul-centric fic with a healthy side of marko)

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓. | one-shot — requested.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. | 5.2K.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. | SMUT! (mdni), vampire antics, blood drinking, bloodplay (they’re vampires), period sex, cunnilingus, oral sex (f!receiving), biting, hair-pulling, dirty talk, scratching, paul loves your tits, marko is kinda selfish, making out, kissing while they’re bloody (hot), threesome, ambiguous ending, panty-stealing

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. | so ,,, I would absolutely love to write a part 2 to this with them blowing the reader’s back out, so if that’s something y’all wanna see, please comment and/or send a request! I love writing for the lost boys so much ,,, most inspired I’ve been in a long time! I’m gonna start answering requests, too! I’m so excited to be back in the thick of things. Love you guys so much, thanks for your support!

TAGLIST: @dootys ; @reveluving ; @sat10 ; @milland ; @iamcautiouslyoptimistic ; @darklylucid ; @sirstompely ; @chaotichellscape ; @callsigncrash ; @manicpixiimurderdoll ; @sandeepics ; @rainbowcreepie ; @kiki-dohedo

They were descending upon you like a pack of slavering wolves — like sharks in the water, drawn to the scent of your blood. Whenever your menstrual cycle came around, it was as if you were wearing a dinner bell around your neck. Dwayne knew better than to interfere when you were in pain, and David simply told you that it would be over soon, without any real compassion.

Paul, however, had no real concept of boundaries, nor did he really have a desire to adhere to them. As soon as he caught wind of your blood, he was always a little closer — never too far away. If Paul happened to be nearby, it was a possibility that Marko was right behind him.

As you lay in your makeshift nest, nestled atop the rickety mattress, you were partially tangled within well-worn sheets, wishing for your torment to end. An excruciating ache spread throughout your lower belly, sending dull shockwaves of pain towards your limbs. Your head vibrated with an unpleasant humming.

Your alcove was shrouded in thick curtains which served as a door — even then, there wasn’t a purpose for it. Privacy was threadbare around the cavern, especially when it came to you. With a low groan, you rolled over, attempting to find a comfortable position, but everything felt horrible.

It was as if your body was imploding, ripping itself to pieces while still barely functioning. Sometimes, you wished that you could turn — if you were a vampire, menstruation would cease, becoming a thing of the past. You were half-tempted to beg David for a sip of the crimson bottle, but you knew he would decline.

With a shaky exhale, you sluggishly rolled out of your bed, gritting your teeth together as another wave of pain radiated through your lower back. A hot bath and plenty of sleep would do you good, but living with the boys had completely altered your circadian rhythm. There was no use in trying to return to normalcy.

Draped in one of your blankets, you wandered toward the drawn curtains, gasping when your foot nudged into something sitting atop the rocky, uneven floor. It was a small pile of chocolate, accompanied by a partially-destroyed box of tampons. You weren’t sure who left it there, but you had a hunch.

You stooped down, gathering the many offerings as you retreated into your chambers, mood improving by a sliver as you went about eating some of the chocolate. They were Milky Way and Secret bars, something you might’ve grabbed at the convenience store once upon a time. You assumed that one of the boys stole it.

As you sat along the edge of your bed, your mouth flooded with a rush of gooey nougat, sweet as can be and somewhat of a relief. It wasn’t enough to quell your constant aches and cramping, but the gesture was thoughtful. You placed the rest in a box underneath your bed, discarding the wrapper into a bin.

Your mattress was the most inviting thing you’d seen all day, coaxing you back into its plush warmth. Swaddling yourself within one of your blankets, you intended on sleeping — attempting to sleep the day away, if you could. Best to do it now before you were rudely interrupted come nighttime.

It was best to rest whenever the boys did, knowing that they’d become rowdy once the sun descended. They had a rather common practice of waking you up whenever they got up, and this time wouldn’t be any different.

“You’re on the rag,” Paul’s voice sliced through your slumber like a hot knife cutting into butter. “I can smell you from miles away — bet anybody could.” Your eyes fluttered, groggy from sleep as you adjusted to the low, flickering candlelight of your nest. It didn’t surprise you to see your boyfriend perched at the foot of your bed, smirking like a maniac, the bastard.

As much as you adored Paul, he was the last person you wanted to see. The unfortunate part about cohabiting with vampires was their nosiness, their desire to feed, their backward circadian rhythm — your boyfriend was the worst of all. With a soft groan, you twisted away, drawing the blanket over you.

Another sharp jolt of pain cut through your stomach, the sensation equating to that of a gut punch or shallow stab wound. You didn’t want Paul to see you like this, all disheveled and haggard, a mess of gore and exhaustion. “What time is it?” You mumbled, briefly rubbing at the bridge of your nose.

“I don’t know,” He shrugged, slithering forward until he was right next to you, close as could be. “Poor baby,” Paul crooned, peppering kisses against your face. “You’re just dying over here, aren’t you?” Admittedly, he wanted to eat you out — he hadn’t asked before, but being in such close proximity without having fed in awhile, he was ravenous.

His lips felt so cool against your feverish flesh, like ice against fire. You shamelessly careened into those brief pecks and fleeting sensations, lips parting as you let the blanket slip a little bit. “Feels like it.” You sighed, hand reaching toward his chest. His skin was always icy, perfect to quell the searing feeling that coursed all over your aching form.

Paul’s motives were mostly self-satisfying, an attempt to extinguish the ragged burning that blistered through his throat. Of course, he wanted to help you — take some of your pain away, but above all, he wanted to feed. He’d drink from your cunt like a fountain if he needed to, but it was all about execution. He wanted you to agree to it.

Marko would want in on this, Paul contemplated.

Sharing with his brother was an act of generosity, but Marko had some claim over you, too. Paul loved you, you loved him — Marko loved you, too. He felt obligated to alert his fellow blonde to your suffering — he was just as hungry. Though, Paul was delighted to find that he could have his fill first, no waiting in line.

“You feel so nice,” It wasn’t intended to be flirtatious — but for Paul, he’d take any scrap that he could get. In an attempt to feel his cold skin against your cheek, he playfully groped at your chest, causing your brows to furrow in mild annoyance. “Paul, not right now.” You sighed.

“Not right now?” He parroted, tone jocular and mischievous as he pressed another kiss against your cheek. You really were warm. Paul watched with a twinge of empathy as you winced, contorting and writhing around atop the mattress. You were in pain — he hated seeing you like this, wrought with an agony that he couldn’t rip away from you.

A bout of silence passed between the both of you, and you looked to Paul, whose mind was racing with lascivious thoughts. Saliva pooled within his mouth, a desperate hunger intermingling with his desire to no longer see you suffering. You curled up against him, hands pressed flat atop the mesh shirt he wore.

You’d grown accustomed to his smell — a pungent aroma, like carrion in the sun attempting to disguise itself as a bottle of stale cologne. At first, it was extremely off-putting, especially when you were having sex, but now, it was simply apart of his very being. You had been surrounded by vampires long enough to understand their distinct and disgusting scent.

“Baby, you gotta let me help you,” Paul murmured, cerulean hues taking on a predatory sheen. He was partially just a boy wanting to fuck his girlfriend, and the other half was a greedy creature who simply wanted your blood. “Got an idea to make you feel better, yeah? Make your pain stop for a little while.”

His icy hand traced over your cheek, thumb sweeping across your lower lip as he continued to shower you in feather-light kisses. It was akin to cold raindrops peppering your flesh. Paul’s hand then drifted underneath your shirt, an item that coincidentally once belonged to him, now repurposed.

That chilled temperature was a nice feeling — as much as you desired heat, the cavern could become oppressively stuffy and overbearing. When the California summers died down, the interior became a little cooler, more mellow. For now, you endured the heat. “Paul, I don’t think sex is going to help me.”

Paul guffawed, grinning wolfishly as he planted a kiss against your lips. It was open-mouthed and needy, which happened to make your cunt throb with a distant ache. You hated Paul sometimes — he made you so aroused and pent-up that you wanted to scream.

His facade of ‘dumb blonde’ charm initially worked on you — a carefully-crafted disguise that gave way to his underlying intelligence. Paul was wicked smart, but he enjoyed keeping up a charade for the fun of it. Easier to hunt that way, he’d told you, once upon a time. He was so charismatic, like a magnet — drew you right in.

“Don’t knock it ‘till you try it, sweet thing.” Paul snickered, crawling a little lower as he pressed kisses against your stomach, which made you so unbelievably flustered. “Let me help you out, baby. M’hungry,” He murmured into your skin, idly rucking your shirt up towards your chest. “Wanna taste you so bad.”

Realization washed over you then and there.

He was hungry.

The fresh menses that coalesced between your thighs must’ve been calling his name, and you stiffened as another tendril of blood wept from your core. It was always an uncomfortable sensation, but Paul could smell it — he had the nose of a keen hunter. You swallowed the lump within your throat, feeling more embarrassed than anything else.

“Paul, I — Are you sure?” If it weren’t for his state of vampirism, you would’ve been mildly disgusted, but this was Paul, after all. He was messy, nasty, and rowdy. He didn’t care whatsoever, and it was one of the reasons why you adored him. He was unapologetically unhinged — his constant state of being.

His cajoling laughter caused you to shiver, knowing what his answer would be before he said anything. It was stupid to believe that a vampire wouldn’t want to have free access to blood, no matter how unorthodox it might’ve been. “I’m very sure, baby. You just lay back, let me handle the rest. M’gonna make you feel better.”

If it weren’t for the context of the situation, he sounded like a doting, devoted boyfriend. You couldn’t help but let out a brief huff of laughter, but then again, if Paul intended to relieve some of your period pains in the process, you weren’t about to stop him.

With a nod, you rolled over, lying flat against the mattress as Paul swiftly shrugged off his tuxedo overcoat, letting it drape against the foot of the bed. His eyes glittered with excitement, and once he was perched at your feet, you got embarrassed. He’d eaten you out before on so many occasions, but this made you unbelievably flustered.

Insecurities got the better of you as you pressed your knees together, hand covering your face. “I can’t, Paul. You’re going to think I’m repulsive.” You groaned, feeling his strong, muscled hand gently clasp around your wrist, dragging it away so that you could see him.

“Baby,” Paul hummed with an urgency, his mane of coarse, dusty-blonde hair looking exceptionally wild when he hovered above you. “You really think that I’m gonna find you gross ‘cause of that?” He inquired, watching your pretty little face scrunch up. “I think it’s hot.”

You scoffed, finding some amusement in that. “You think me being on my period is hot?” It shouldn’t have surprised you — this was Paul, after all. “You’re insatiable. I’m just a free meal for you right now.” You sighed, and even if that was true, you would always be more than that to Paul.

Ever the patient predator, Paul perched his chin against the top of your knee, pressing a sweet kiss against your softer flesh. “Nah, baby! You’re more than that,” He protested, hands rubbing along your thighs. “You’re my sweet little mate.” He watched you shiver, and his lips twitched into a smirk.

Unfortunately, Paul knew how to get you hooked — whenever he referred to you as his mate, you became very smitten very quickly. “I know,” You mumbled, listening to his impish laughter as he showered your legs in greedy kisses. “I know I am.” You shuffled your legs apart just a little bit, and Paul was barging right into that newfound space without warning.

Paul grinned — a glittering, vibrant expression that made your stomach do excitable flips. “Yeah you are,” He purred, pushing your shirt up until it pooled around your stomach. That familiar scent of blood invaded his senses, activating that burning hunger. His throat blistered with a dry, festering agony. “Fuck, you’re all mine.” His voice became a touch darker.

You shuddered, skin crawling with an excitable heat as you squirmed atop the mattress. Paul’s ring-adorned digits curled into the waistband of your shorts, yanking them down and off of your legs. With only one thin veil to protect you from Paul and his appetite, you felt his arms hook around you, prying your panties away.

His attention turned to the menstrual pad, gaze sparkling with intrigue as he smelled the freeh blood on it and on you. “Might save that for later, as a dessert.” He let out a bark of laughter, gingerly discarding your panties off to the side, treating them with care. “You smell divine — bet you taste just as good.” Paul groaned.

With a brief inhale, he caught a full gust of your saccharine scent, interwoven that the twang of copper and your menses. He licked his lips, flattening himself against the mattress until he was on his belly. Paul rocked forward, and without hesitation, began to greedily lap at your cunt.

It was as if being touched by an open flame, nerves set ablaze by Paul’s eager, greedy licks. The broad flat of his tongue swept across the length of your slit, drinking in each tendril of blood. A lion drawn to that of a lamb, the predator finally catching its prey. You whimpered, aching something awful as he worked to soothe it.

Your hands lazily clamored toward the crown of his head, digits sinking into his product-stiff mane of hair. It felt coarse underneath your fingertips, but you didn’t care, clutching onto him with a fervor. “Paul, ri—Right there,” You sighed, hips jolting forward. “S’good.”

His oral fixation was rather renowned, and his prowess at giving you mindblowing head was really beginning to show. Paul’s tongue languidly split toward your weeping core, imbibing your menses as your blood began to extinguish that festering pain within his throat.

A molten-hot wave of heat rolled over you, dropping right into the pit of your stomach as he flicked his tongue across your clit. That singular gesture made your cunt clench pathetically around nothing at all, thighs beginning to squeeze at his face. Paul snickered, forcefully parting your legs with a mere shove of his rough palm.

He wished that you were always like this — he wouldn’t have a reason to hunt anymore. That was the lazy way out, and Paul loved the chase, but being able to simply feast on you without harming you was quite the payoff. He cleaned you up, tongue prodding at your entrance with a fervor.

Fortunately, Paul caught you on a heavy flow, and his greed was beginning to shine through. His restraint was thinly-veiled and shattering at the very foundation, hands tugging you forward as he lapped at the trickling rivulets of crimson. A groan escaped him as he devoured your cunt like a man starved, and in all actuality, he was.

“I hope you plan on sharing.” Marko’s voice was extremely unexpected, snapping you out of your lust-induced haze, eyes going as wide as saucers. Your relationship with Marko was a complicated one — Paul was your boyfriend, but you liked Marko, too.

Suddenly, you felt embarrassed — ashamed, even. You almost wanted to kick Paul away and wallow in your own frustration. You wanted to squeeze your legs together, but he wasn’t having it, keeping you spread open with one hand. “Paul, wa— Wait,” You protested, voice meek and soft as he lapped at your cunt. “Paul.”

Paul was laughing, tearing himself away from his meal with his chin and mouth turned scarlet, stained with your menses and ichor. He licked his lips, peering toward you with a mischievous expression. “Marko wants in on this,” He mused, caressing your thigh in an attempt to quell your sudden bout of nervousness. “You mind, baby? You can say no.” He assured you.

It all felt like some fever dream, and you were staring at Paul with an incredulous look. They were always prone to sharing, but this seemed like a step further than you intended. “You … You don’t care?” Admittedly, you wanted Marko — burned for him. He was certainly greedier than Paul, twice as insatiable.

“Nah,” Paul chuckled, seemingly nonchalant about this entire ordeal. He was busy licking your taste off of his mouth with all of the excitable gusto of a dog. “You’re still my mate, but I can share a little bit. ‘Sides, Marko’s been looking at you for weeks. He’s jealous that he doesn’t have a hot girlfriend like you, baby.” He sneered, grinning like a wolf as he kissed your leg.

Marko’s countenance became somewhat dour, but he elected to ignore Paul, who was entirely amused. The curly-headed blonde sauntered forward, inching closer toward your bed until he was at your side. He reminded you of a cherub — a cherub cleverly disguised as a devil with a forked tail.

Paul smirked, slithering back to his perch between your thighs, busying himself with eating you out as Marko decided to finally have his moment with you. Besides, you were his thrall — the girl of his eternal dreams, flesh and blood, all belonging to him. He happily lapped at your cunt again, lips occasionally teasing your clit.

You shuddered, shrinking underneath the oppressive force of Marko’s stare, which glistened with an unrestrained desire. He slipped forward, settling beside you on the bed — it was the closest you’d ever been to him. Your heart pounded within your chest, hammering away just underneath your collarbone.

He uttered something in Italian, something that you couldn’t decipher as he hovered above you, fingertips gently trailing across your cheek. You didn’t expect this sort of behavior from him, considering that he had quite the temper and violent streak, but you weren’t about to complain.

Without missing a beat, you slid your hands toward his waist, wanting to touch him. He noted your hesitation, grasping ahold of your wrists as he guided your hands underneath his cropped shirt. “Marko.” You cooed, voice tapering off into a moan. Goosebumps coalesced along the length of your spine — it was hard to focus when Paul was tongue-deep inside of your cunt.

“You’re beautiful,” Marko hummed, dark, green-flecked hues roving over your writhing physique. Your scent was overpowering, awash with that coppery twang of blood, perspiration, and natural musk. He dipped forward, mouth brushing against yours. “Delicate.” His lips split into a gregarious smirk as he nipped at your jaw.

You shivered, beginning to squirm around as Paul lapped at your oozing slit, mouth rapacious as he lapped at stray tendrils of your cruor. He planted a kiss against your thigh, leaving behind the imprint of bloodied lips, fingers clamping down on your hips as he urged you back onto his tongue.

A myriad of whimpers and moans escaped you, swallowed whole by Marko, whose kiss was completely consuming. He was the smallest of the pack, but easily the most voracious alongside Paul. Your palms slid everywhere they could, flat atop Marko’s abdomen as you kissed him.

He felt like smooth marble underneath your fingertips, cold to the touch. Your breath caught within your throat as he gripped at your neck, holding either side as he continued to kiss you. A soft moan escaped you, barely audible between the barrage of kisses exchanged, soon devolving into tongue and teeth.

Paul licked his lips, tasting your body upon his tongue. “Wanna have a taste, Marko?” He snickered, tossing his sandy tresses back with a shake of his head. It was like some unruly, disheveled halo that surrounded him, stiff and layered in product he hadn’t washed out in years.

Marko’s eyes glittered with lust, intermingled with a rapturous hunger. He kissed you hard before recoiling, swiftly switching places with Paul, who was more than happy to come curling up next to you. Marko wanted nothing more than to feed — whether you came or not. It was entirely self-gratifying.

“She smells good enough to eat,” Marko sneered, playfully biting at your inner thigh. He was rougher, somewhat reckless compared to Paul, oddly enough. Paul knew you inside and out — and he wanted to try and be careful with you, if that were possible. “Don’t you, ragazza?” It must’ve been something in Italian.

Your boyfriend let out a bark of laughter. “What are you tryin’ to say? It doesn’t sound as good as you think.” He teased, and Marko gave him a spiteful look. Paul grinned, bloodied mouth on display, like something from a splatter film as he let you recline against his chest. “You gonna pull your shirt up?” He asked you, matter-of-factly.

You blinked, wincing when Marko’s sharp teeth suddenly nicked your supple flesh, drawing out a thin rivulet of blood across your thigh. “You can take it off.” You mumbled, gasping as Paul’s roughened digits pawed and clawed at your shirt, wrangling it up enough until he pushed it over your head.

Paul’s crimson-coated mouth was on your tits before you could fully form a sentence, letting out a soft moan. You immediately gripped at his hair, thighs trembling as Marko dove right in. His tongue split you open, greedily lapping at your fresh wave of menses, hungry as could be. He was far more intense and animated than Paul, which both excited and terrified you.

With a sigh of delight, your hips twitched and jolted forward, held down tight by Marko, who was greedily drinking his fill from you. His tongue swiped against your sensitive cunt in a rather vigorous pattern, hands clasped around your hips. Paul not-so-gently sucked on your nipple, teeth nibbling around the tender bud as he groped at your chest.

Pleasure rippled throughout your body, like tidal waves of ecstasy. That sharp ache that once blistered within the pit of your stomach had been quelled for now, and you couldn’t have been any happier. Your hands roamed through Paul’s tresses, giving them tugs whenever Marko hit a certain spot.

“Fuck, baby — you got the prettiest tits,” Paul groaned, busying himself with kissing and groping your breasts, dexterous hands caressing wherever he could. “Marko being good to you?” He asked, lips twitching into a rather bemused grin. His brother had a tendency to tease — Paul wanted to make sure that you got your release.

Marko smirked; he was devious, mind working to concoct some plan to torment you. He was gleefully tonguing at your cunt as he fed from your menses, chin steeped in gore. He was the picture of mischief, gaze gleaming with an animalistic fervor.

The curly-headed leech hadn’t bothered to touch your clit very much either, but you nodded nonetheless. You wouldn’t be able to find anyone else who gave as good of head as Paul did. There was nothing like him.

“Nothing like him?” Marko’s sardonic lull pulled you from the heat of the moment, goosebumps rising along the length of your spine. Another unfortunate downside of living with vampires — their mind-reading. You gulped, listening to Paul’s heckling howls of laughter as you peered toward Marko.

“D’aw, don’t get jealous, Marko! She knows who she belongs to.” Paul grinned, pressing a sloppy kiss against your jaw, leaving behind trace amounts of blood, which he happily licked away. “That’s why she’s my mate.” His teeth glinted in the low light, eyes blazing with a lustful fire as he squeezed your chin.

Unconvinced, Marko’s lips curled slightly, mouth hotly returning to your still-weeping cunt. You were so close, teetering on the edge of your climax as you moaned, hips jolting forward. It had become a competition, but unfortunately, Paul was still miles ahead.

At last, those angelic lips of his pursed around your clit, stimulating that sensitive clutch of nerves. Marko was undeniably greedy, adding a slight graze of his teeth as he lapped at your menses. The burn in his throat had diminished, but only by a sliver — he’d go feed on some unsuspecting tourist later.

Your body spasmed, trembling with an explosive bliss as your thighs threatened to smother Marko. Thankfully, the vampire was quick, pinning you apart as he lapped at your clit, swiftly interchanging his ministrations. It was enough to send you careening over the edge.

Paul seemed appeased by this, having to adjust his jeans to relieve some of the friction. Your breath came in excitable huffs, moans tapering off into the cave, reverberating throughout the alcove. Marko didn’t stop, still lapping at your cunt with an eagerness in an attempt to feed just a little more.

Marko growled, drinking in your menses, intermingled with that of your cum as cleaned you up. Paul seemed mildly disappointed that it wasn’t him down there, but there would be plenty of chances.

“Gonna make her explode,” Paul chided, reaching over to shove Marko’s head away from between your legs. Marko’s expression was one of displeasure, but he’d gotten what he wanted, licking at his lips; as satisfied as a cat who’d just caught the canary. “Think she feels better.” He affirmed, pressing kisses all over your face.

You did.

The relief would be temporary, but you were beyond grateful, panting and quivering as you came down from your climax. Perspiration danced along the length of your spine, manifesting as a cold dew. Paul was attentive, hand rubbing into the small of your back as he hopped off of the bed, retrieving a new shirt for you.

It happened to be his, a shredded, dirty Metallica shirt that he’d worn on a handful of occasions. You were still recovering from it all, watching as Marko stood up from between your legs, licking his lips as if he’d eaten something delectable.

“Thank you, Marko.” You mumbled, noticing the blonde’s devilish smirk as he tossed you the box of tampons. “This was you?” That was a surprise — you assumed that it was Paul’s doing. He was much more into giving you gifts like that.

Marko shrugged, but Paul was cackling, grinning at his brother with a sense of understanding. “He’s got a crush on you.” He guffawed, watching as you got dressed — if a shirt and panties counted as such. “I don’t blame him.” Paul purred, giving you another affectionate kiss against your cheek as he slapped your backside.

You noticed that your previous pair of panties were mysteriously missing — but you didn’t say anything, utilizing the tampons gifted to you before clearing your throat. “Can we go to yours, Paul?” You asked softly, wanting to go to his nest, instead. It was much more lived-in and vibrant than yours.

“Sure thing,” He hummed, head cocking to one side. “Don’t you wanna say goodnight to Marko?” Paul mused, planting his hands against your shoulders. You seemed a little flustered but nodded nonetheless, feeling his lips meld against yours in a reassuring kiss. “I’ll be waiting for you.” His teeth nipped at your jaw before he disappeared through the thick curtains.

Tension hung heavy in the air, thick like an inescapable haze as you stared at Marko. You didn’t know what to say, but he beat you to it.

“Will you let me take you out sometime?” He asked, head cocked to one side. Paul must’ve known about this already — otherwise, there would’ve been some sort of rift or protest. Marko’s chin was still stained in your blood, which made your stomach do excitable flips.

“Yeah,” You nodded, stepping forward to wipe off his chin with your discarded shirt. “Thanks for … That.” Heat crawled across your flesh as Marko grabbed your wrists, dragging you in for an invasive kiss. His tongue greedily meshed with yours, enough to make your head spin, feeling dizzy with desire.

The kiss made your heart race — it was different from Paul’s kisses. Marko was always dancing along that fine line of danger, but Paul was, oddly enough, a little more docile. Both were just as satisfying as the other. Either way, you were whimpering, hapless as you moved your mouth against his.

Marko withdrew, angelic countenance reminding you of a fiendish imp instead of a cherub. He swept his hand across your jaw. “Don’t mention it,” He seemed more subdued than he’d been before. “You know who to ask if you need help.” His chuckle was mesmerizing.

You pushed your fingers through his mop of golden curls, chewing at your lower lip. You gave Marko another sweet kiss before the both of you left, Marko going one way, and you wandering toward Paul’s nest.

When you slipped past the mangled web of tapestries and curtains, Paul was laying on his bed, legs kicked up against the rocky wall as he smirked at you. “He asked you?” He inquired, propping himself up on one arm. You were surprised, but admittedly, you shouldn’t have been.

“Yeah,” You murmured, shuffling forward until you sat down next to Paul. The blonde immediately grabbed you, hauling you on top of him as he snuggled his face into your clothed breasts, which made you giggle. “Paul, you know that I’m yours, right? I don’t want us to stop.” You gushed, worried that he’d leave you because of this.

“I know,” Paul mused, grinning up at you with that wonderfully stupid expression of his. “You can be his side meal,” He snorted at his own ridiculous joke, palms caressing and massaging into your hips. It was a nice feeling. “S’long as you’re still my mate.”

“Of course.” You nodded, grabbing his face with your hands, leaning in to give him a sweet kiss. Paul exhaled, sitting up fully to hold you, letting you straddle his lap as he began to kiss you back. It was a rather foul concoction of your blood and his own saliva. “ … Did you steal my panties, by the way?” You mumbled.

Paul snickered, playfully quirking an eyebrow as he jerked his chin toward the entrance of his nest.

“You’ll have to ask Marko.”

[callsign-rogueone]

deja vu - b.d.

Bodhi Durran x reader part of Bodhi and Darling's story 💗 words: 2.9k 🏷: set in the year before Fourth Wing (Bodhi’s first year). one tiny book spoiler but it’s not stated explicitly, hurt/comfort, anxiety, imagined character death (in a nightmare). mild dissociation, anxiety, nausea, fighting (challenge match), one very small injury, canon-typical peril and danger.

“I love you,” Bodhi rasps, closing his eyes. “I’m so… sorry…”

“No, no, hey, look at me,” you beg, hot tears slipping down your cheeks. “You’re gonna be okay, we’re getting you help, but you have to keep looking at me, okay?”

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t move or make any indication that he can hear you. He’s silent, perfectly still — he isn’t breathing. 

“Bodhi,” you cry, “Bodhi, please don’t leave me. Wake up, please.”

His heart has stopped beating. The love of your life, the man who had sworn to protect you, who you had sworn to love in sickness and in health and through the test of time, until the end of your days, is dead.

You feel like the air has been squeezed from your lungs, your breaths coming in choked sobs. 

“Wake, child,” someone interrupts — Sìoda. “It’s just a dream. It’s not real.”

You shake yourself awake, panting like you’d been running for miles. You look down at your palms, illuminated by the gentle moonlight filtering into the room -- they’re clean; not streaked with Bodhi’s blood. It was just a dream. Just a terrible dream, likely a product of the overactive imagination you’ve had your whole life, and your anxiety about the dragonkind exam you have tomorrow that you’re convinced you’re going to fail, despite spending all evening studying. 

“Your mate, and all of your brothers and sisters are safe in their beds,” she soothes, “as are mine.”

Oh. You still aren’t any good at shielding, so she’s been getting all of your emotions through the bond — you’d likely woken her up with your distress.

“I’m sorry,” you say in a guilt-ridden whisper. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“Don’t apologize, my child. Just breathe.”

You mop up your tears with the sleeve of your pajama shirt, and focus on deepening your breaths, trying to relax your racing heart.

“There are still a few hours until formation,” she says gently. “Get some rest. You’ll need it.”

You lay back down, gazing at the wall of gray stone beside you, counting the bricks and trying to find patterns in the texture until the exhaustion overtakes you, and you fall back asleep.

Thankfully, your subconscious doesn’t torment you with any more cruel sights. You wake up to gentle November sunlight warming your skin and birds chirping — last month, a pair of doves had made a nest in the tiny alcove by your window.

You get dressed quickly, sorting out your hair and straightening your uniform. You’re in the middle of lacing your boots when there’s a knock at your door, the familiar rhythm that you know can only be Bodhi; like clockwork, he comes down the hall to get you every morning so you can walk to breakfast together.

You unlock the door with your mind, something you’ve been able to do for the last week, breathing a sigh of relief when he walks into the room unharmed and smiling. You hug him extra tightly, tucking your head into his neck and holding him a moment longer than usual, comforted by the steadiness of his breathing.

“You okay, Darling?” he asks, sounding concerned.

You hum in contentment. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

You don’t mention the dream, because nobody wants to hear about their own death, and it would be silly to bother him with something you’ve already gotten over — though you know the image of Bodhi bleeding out in your arms on the floor of that empty classroom will likely be burned into your brain forever.

He gives you an easy smile, shouldering your bookbag and gesturing for you to head out the door.

You’re comforted by the normalcy of the day. It’s almost too easy, too smooth.

Everyone is present and accounted for at breakfast, in good spirits — as good as they can be, in your current situation. Battle brief passes quickly, with no reports of catastrophe, though you know that they likely aren’t giving you all the information they have. The dragonkind test you’d been so worried about is much easier than you’d expected, and you have the rest of the afternoon off until dinner.

You don’t object as your squadmates suggest you use one of the empty common rooms to study in — the same one you’d seen in your dream. 

What would you even say? Sorry, guys, but can we pick somewhere else to be, because I had a nightmare last night that Bodhi died in this room? 

You shake it off, repeating Sìodha’s words in your mind as you crack open your textbook: It’s just a dream. It’s not real.

But then every word of the conversation going on around you starts to sound very familiar, like you’ve heard it before — like they’re reciting lines for a stage play.

It’s just a dream. It’s not real.

But this can’t be a coincidence. There’s too many similarities for comfort; the location, the timing — the sun is just starting to set — the exact page that each boy’s book is open to… you remember that, remember Sawyer’s book being open to a page with that same illustration.

“Have you done number four yet? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Let me see.”

You predict their replies with nearly perfect accuracy — because you’ve heard this exact conversation before.

What if it is real? What if you’re trapped in an endless loop like in one of the novels you’d read, where the leading lady has to live the worst day of her life over and over until she figures out how to change it? 

You could hardly bear to watch the light leave Bodhi’s eyes in that dream, and so help you gods, you are not going to see it ever again; you’re going to do something about it.

You’d read some theory in a philosophy book once that the flap of a butterfly’s wings can set off a chain of events that cause a hurricane. Would it be safer to stop this exact moment as it happens, or to interrupt now? Or was that dream really just a dream, and today will just be a normal day, or Basgiath’s version of normal, and you’re worrying over nothing?

“I don’t think that’s it. I think that’s the answer to number five, though.”

Those are the words. You’d almost missed them, too concerned about what’s going to happen in the next five seconds, but you should have just enough time if you act now. Sìodha seems to think so too, sending you a flood of urgency and panic.

You tackle Bodhi to the ground, wrapping an arm around his waist and putting a hand behind his head to cushion his fall as you both hit the floor. Your knuckles split on the impact, pain ripping through your hand, but all you can focus on is Bodhi underneath you — his eyes wide with shock, but still blinking up at you, his lips parted in a gasp, but not slick with blood, his heart racing, but not stopping. 

There’s a shout from beside you, the clatter of metal against stone, and the sounds of a brief struggle. Dain has the would-be assassin pinned in a matter of seconds, Sawyer helping him restrain her and haul her away, leaving you and Bodhi alone, still tangled up in one another on the floor, his eyes locked with yours.

He finally manages to form words, but not a complete sentence, still stunned. “What… How did you… What?”

“I saw this in a dream last night,” you answer, your voice wavering. “I saw you sitting right here with me, talking to Sawyer. You said that same sentence, and then there was a knife in your chest.” 

You look to your right, where it lays on the floor a few feet away — the exact shape and length as the one you’d dreamed of. “That knife.”

Bodhi’s eyes widen even further as he puts it together.  “I think that was your signet,” he breathes. “You’re a visionary.”

You finally let go of him, moving to sit by his side on the cold stone of the floor and staring blankly at the dagger. It had missed either of you by at least three feet, but had you acted a second later, or not at all… That doesn’t matter, you suppose. What matters is that Bodhi is alive; that you’d been able to save him, because you’d known what was going to happen and you altered course at the last second. 

You should be proud of yourself, but all you can think about is his words to you, and the implications thereof. If this is truly your signet, then you’ll have to watch this kind of thing happen over and over, and likely not just to Bodhi, but to the rest of your friends, too. But what if you can’t stop it next time? What if you see something happen to the twins? They’re a two-hour flight away, and you can’t abandon your post just because you had a dream that something bad happened to them. 

Will any of your dreams be just dreams anymore, or are you going to see all manner of terrible things every night for the rest of your life? How are you supposed to distinguish between dreams and reality, between the sleepy inventions of your subconscious, or the magic of your signet?

“I’m sorry, child. It is a powerful gift to have, but it can be quite cruel.”

You can hear Bodhi speaking, likely a thank you and some soft reassurances, but you don’t process the words. You don’t respond to either of them, still not fully convinced that this isn’t another dream.

The warmth of his hand on your arm starts to pull you out of that numbness. “Talk to me, darling.”

“I watched you die,” you whisper. “There was nothing I could do. I just had to hold you, until… I thought it was just a nightmare, but then it started happening in reality, and...”

You shake your head, eyes welling with tears that you try to blink away. You tell yourself that there’s no reason to be crying, no use when he’s standing in front of you, alive, breathing and talking and holding your hand, but you can’t stop the flood of emotion; confusion and relief and horror and several other things you can’t put a name to right now.

“Hey,” he coaxes, “look at me.”

You focus your gaze on him, on those soft brown eyes that still blink at you, the rise and fall of his chest.

“I’m okay,” he says softly, wrapping your hand around his wrist, mindful of your scraped knuckles. He positions your fingertips over his pulse, pressing them into the skin so you can feel the gentle beat of his heart. “I’m alive, because you saved me.”

You nod silently, warm tears slipping down your cheeks. 

He gathers you into a warm embrace, rubbing your back in soft, soothing motions. “I’m so sorry you had to see that, my darling girl. But the next time something like that happens, you tell me, okay? I don’t care if you wake me up at three in the morning, I want to be there for you.”

“Okay,” you whisper, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Good.”

You stay like this for a moment, just sitting with him and finding comfort in the warmth of his touch and the steadiness of his breathing.

“Do you want to go to the healers for your hand, or do you want me to wrap it up for you?”

“Want you to do it,” you answer softly, still feeling a little fragile. You don’t want to be away from him, even for a moment; you might work up the courage to ask if you can sleep in his bed tonight.

“Okay.” He presses a kiss to your temple, getting up to pack your bags.

Dain and Sawyer haven’t returned, likely still in Varrish’s office with the unbonded girl. You scribble a quick note to thank them, and to say that you’re done studying for the afternoon, leaving it on top of Dain’s book.

Bodhi picks up your bag, shouldering it along with his own.

He stops to pick up the dagger, sheathing it at his side, and you blink at him, confused. “You’re keeping it?”

“Of course I’m keeping it. It’s a memento of my first assassination attempt.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Only you could be so proud about someone wanting to kill you.”

He pulls you in closer, tucking you under his arm. “Not nearly as proud as I am of you. You should have seen it. I’ve never seen you move that fast in my life.”

Your cheeks warm in embarrassment, suddenly shy. “I was worried I’d lose you,” you say softly.

“You won’t ever lose me,” he soothes. “We made each other a promise, and I intend to keep it.”

“So do I,” you say quietly. “So do I.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You don’t have any more terrible dreams -- visions -- for the rest of the week, just a generalized sense of anxiety and insomnia, waiting for the next one and wondering what it’ll be, what terrible fate may befall one of your friends.

Each day that passes simultaneously soothes your anxiety and stokes it. If you aren’t dreaming of any terrible things, then they won’t happen, but what if you don’t dream them? What if you can’t see harm coming to them in advance, and thus can’t prevent it?

As soon as you enter the gym for Emeterrio’s class, it hits you again; that incredibly strong sense that something very bad is going to happen, very soon.

Bodhi sees your posture change, your normal relaxed and graceful presence tightening uncomfortably, and puts it together immediately, looking at you with concern.

“I have that feeling again,” you manage, forcing down the acid rising in your throat. “But this time, I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“It’ll be okay,” he soothes.

“You don’t know that,” you reply, still looking around, surveying the gym for anyone that could pose a threat to you or any of your friends, which happens to be every single person in the room. 

He takes your hand, and the feeling stops; vanishes completely, as if it was never there. Bodhi’s presence and his gentle touch have always been a comfort to you, often the only comfort you have, but nothing like that has ever happened before, a relief so intense and sudden.

Your gaze snaps to him, eyes widening. “How did you…”

He lets go, and the anxiety and nausea comes back in a tidal wave that nearly knocks you over. He lays a hand on your back to steady you, worried you’ll collapse, and the feeling dissipates again in the blink of an eye. Definitely not a coincidence.

“I think you turned it off,” you whisper. “When you let go, it came back.”

He blinks at you for a few seconds, processing. “Do you think that’s…”

“Laurent and Daneel,” Emeterrio calls.

Oh. That’s what you’re supposed to be worried about.

“Deep breath,” Bodhi prompts.

You inhale as deeply as you can before he moves his hand off of your back, and you aren’t hit with another tidal wave, just a normal, manageable level of anxiety appropriate for someone about to start a challenge match.

But as you step onto the mat, the anxiety fades into… something new. Confidence, like nothing you’ve ever felt before -- like you know you’re going to win this fight, without question, like it’s already been written down in the professor’s gradebook, and carved into history. 

Interesting.

You lower your head to your opponent in respectful acknowledgement, getting a snarl in response. Well, then. Maybe this will be harder than you’d thought -- but you still have that unshakeable feeling that you’re going to come out on top.

She makes the first move, a punch that you’re able to dodge easily. She tries again -- and you step to the side without thinking, avoiding the blow by a few inches.

You continue dodging and blocking, reacting naturally, almost subconsciously, not even thinking about your movements. 

You feel the same strange feeling you’d felt during the conversation leading up to Bodhi’s would-be assassination; you’d known all the words, knew what was going to happen because you’d seen it in a dream -- only you don’t remember dreaming any of this at all. It had been a total surprise that your name would be called with hers, the intense anxiety you’d felt being the only indicator, and even then, you’d been worried that it would be one of your friends in danger, not yourself.

Very interesting.

A slow smile spreads across your face as you realize exactly what is happening -- this is your signet at work, that familiar hum of power through your veins as you move, keeping you a few seconds ahead of everyone else in the room.

“You’ve had your fun,” Sìoda nudges, sounding amused. “Now end this, and end it well.”

The girl agrees. “Come on, you filthy fucking traitor! Fight me already!”

There’s a collective intake of breath from the quadrant as they wait for you to respond -- every eye in the gym is watching you, even the other cadets that are supposed to be fighting across the room, but you don’t move, don’t react to the comment, preparing for what’s going to happen next.

She hurls a dagger at you, enraged by your lack of engagement in this fight -- and your hand flies up to catch it, your fingers wrapping around the hilt and stopping it in midair.

Silence. Absolute dead silence.

You examine it for a second before you tuck it into your belt, looking back up at her. “Let’s fight, then.”

[ofmermaidstories]

Katsuki’s been dreaming about you.

At first, it’s in fragments. Stuff he doesn’t remember after waking up, or can otherwise shrug off as a product of his brain, cartwheeling around with the day’s information. It’s your face, frowning in concentration, or you saying something disjointed from the rest of the conversation (No, you tell him, faintly annoyed. Of course I bought it.). It’s you squinting into the sun, the broad daylight. It’s your leg, hot and wet and sparkling with pool water, as Katsuki palms your calf. A dozen tiny moments of you, slipped between Izuku grinning with All Might’s face, his eyes glowing green, or Iida clopping through the landscape, half horse.

It’s—whatever, Katsuki thinks. Maybe he just saw your dumbass face somewhere—wide-eyed, moony, watching him warily—and his brain latched on to it, desperate for some normalcy among Best Jeanist with long golden hair like a cape, or Katsuki’s mother, crying over him, his heart in a box.

But most of the shitty extras in his dreams don’t repeat. Not like you. Katsuki wakes up in the coolness of the twilight world before dawn, breathing hard as his heart thumps in fear, the last thing he can remember from his dream being you, whispering his name and prickling his skin like he can feel your breath on his shoulder and—

It’s just him, in his wide bed. Him in the blue world before his alarm.

Katsuki shudders, eyes squeezed tight, and has to admit to himself: maybe shit was weirder than he thought.

For a while, things don’t change. The heat of his nightmares (the smoke, the ground underneath his feet tilting as UA poises precariously in the air, over the country) stays the same. His stupider dreams stay the same. The ones that feed his guilt (Izuku, four years old, chubby hand held out; Edgeshot, his eyes crinkling above his mask as he balanced his tea against his leg, the group being debriefed before battle) stay the same. You slip in like a comma, a pause, the back of your head haloed by the latelight as you’re passing by a civilian begging for Dynamight to save them. You, your lips parted around the words you can’t say before Kirishima is there, throwing his arm around Katsuki’s shoulder and talking about how they’ll be late for a school dance that never happened.

Maybe it’s a fucking Quirk, Katsuki thinks, gritting his teeth at the idea of some bastard getting a hit in, unchecked. But when the doctor shrugs at him, Katsuki slouching in the stiff chair, and says, “you’re all clear, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, sir. There’s nothing in your system—”

Well, the blond thinks, mouth tightening. Then there was a fucking problem.

Maybe he’s been givin’ it too much damn attention. Katsuki resolves to ignore it, throwing himself into the investigation at hand—some bastard, turning people into living mannequins—and for a while, it works. His dreams are filled with nonsense from work, from patrol, from the insecurities he left behind at seventeen—and then you return, the breath between words, the hyphen between thoughts.

You’re walking ahead of him, Katsuki too aware of his hands balled into his pockets, your jacket long and bright against the city night, the glitter of Tokyo Tower ahead of you both. You’re laughing at something Denki is saying, ugly and breathless and on the verge of tears, Katsuki’s chest tight with it. You’re hesitating, your legs curling against his sheets as you stare up at him, his heart thumping with the pulse he sees jump in your throat.

It’s making him more vicious. He spars with Denki and nearly burns a idiot-shaped hole into the concrete floor of the training room. Out on the scene with Deku, Katsuki jumps into the fight first, causing the nerd to shout after him, startled at the deviation of the plan.

“You’re scaring everyone,” Shouto tells him, breaking the silence as they strip from their Hero gear. Katsuki stills, coiled and deadly but Shouto is unperturbed, buttoning his shirt. “Izuku’s worried. Denki’s been threatening to make a formal request to Support for a panic button. What’s happened?”

“Nothin’s fucking happened, Icyhot,” Katsuki says, scowling. But his hand tightens on his hoodie as he says it, and for all the moron’s obliviousness, Shouto is eagle-eyed when it comes to the tremor in his friends.

“What’s happened?” He repeats, the faint steel of insistence in his voice and Katsuki tsks, before conceding.

“Been having shit dreams is all,” he says, frowning unhappily.

Shouto frowns in answer, pulling a sweatshirt over his head. “Nightmares?” He asks, reasonably.

Nightmares. Katsuki’s jaw tightens, thinking of the latest dream—you, damp and flushed underneath him, gasping against his mouth as you share the same hot breath, his hand curling against your neck, so, so afraid.

“Yeah,” he says, quieter. “Something like that.”

[arealphrooblem]

A Good Roommate Is Hard To Find

Synopsis: Civilian has harbored a secret crush on his roommate for a long time, only to find out that said roommate is the newest villain on the scene during a robbery at his job.

CW: death threats, knives

There was only one thing worse than having a crush on your straight roommate: having a crush on your straight villain roommate. 

Actually worse than that were rent prices, which kept Civilian from running as far in the opposite direction as he could get after he gave his statement to the police. 

A statement that contained a big, gaping hole. 

Because it couldn’t be true, right? It had to be a coincidence. Lots of people had weird, star shaped birthmarks on their ribs. It was a huge leap of logic to assume that the villain who had just tried to rob the bank that morning had the exact same birthmark as Civilian’s roommate for the past two years. 

Or maybe he just imagined it. It had been a very traumatic day. Civilian went home after the police released him and had a massive panic attack in the shower for about forty five minutes and then pressed two weighted blankets on him in bed like a panini grill. 

Having a group of villains stride into your workplace, guns blazing, would do that to you. As would getting stuck in the crossfire between said villains and the Hero from behind a desk, praying a stray bullet or laser beam wouldn’t hit and kill you. 

It was only a coincidence that Civilian had seen the birthmark. Near the end of the fight, one of the villains had been thrown over the very desk Civilian cowered behind, hitting the wall hard enough that even Civilian winced in sympathy. 

He laid there for a moment, dazed, half his torso exposed from a rip in his clothes, that stupid, undeniable birthmark on full display. Civilian could only stare at it, head dizzy as if he also took blunt force trauma to it. The villain groaned and sat up. 

For one agonizingly long second their eyes met. Civilian felt like a kitten spotted by a hawk. This was it. His time was up. He’d be just another statistic on the news -- 

But the villain just put a finger on his lips -- a silent command for silence -- that Civilian could only nod helplessly at. Then the villain slipped away in the chaos and disappeared. 

And besides, it couldn’t be his roommate because his roommate was in Colorado, visiting some online friend of his and going mountain biking or whatever. 

Two days after the attack, Roommate burst through the front door, dumping his duffel bag onto the floor and stepping towards Civilian with a scary single minded determination. 

It took every ounce of control not to flinch when Roommate cupped his face, gaze roving over his features as if looking for injuries. 

Roommate himself looked untouched from the fight. It almost made Civilian second guess himself. But he hadn’t spent the last two days analyzing every detail his love-sick brain had filed away for the last two years to doubt himself now. 

That villain and his roommate were the same person. 

“I saw the news,” Roommate said. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt? I tried to change my flight but this was the soonest I could get in.”

The lie hurt. Obviously Roommate hadn’t been mountain biking in Colorado for the past few days so it begged the question: what else did he lie about? Was this concern just an elaborate play at innocence? But if his roommate was taking the time to craft this act of concern, then he must not think Civilian knew. 

And if Civilian valued his life, he’d have to keep it that way and force normalcy. 

“I’m fine,” he said, trying for a smile and coming up with a grimace. “I mean, I’m not fine. It was fucking scary, but I didn’t get hurt. So there’s that. Work’s given me a week off and then. . .”

Roommate scowled. “And then what? They can’t possibly think you’d be okay working there again after only a few days off? You should quit.”

“Quit?” Civilian’s eyebrows raised. “And we both get thrown out on our asses? We’re lucky enough to have this apartment as it is.”

“I have enough savings to get us through for a few weeks while you find another job,” Roommate insisted. 

“I thought you blew it all on Colorado,” Civilian joked weakly. 

And where the fuck did those savings come from? he wanted to ask. But he didn’t dare. 

“Not all of it. Seriously. You should think about it.”

Something gleamed in the roommate’s eyes, like a warning. Civilian swallowed thickly and nodded. 

“Okay. I’ll think about it. I just . . .I think I’m going to go lay down for a bit. It’s good to have you back. You’ll have to tell me all about it when I wake up again.”

Roommate’s face lit up with a smile and Civilian’s heart twisted in his chest. “I have so many good photos. It’s beautiful out there.You should come with me next time.”

“Yeah sure,” said Civilian thoughtlessly, thinking only of the dark safety of his room. 

“Get some rest.” Roommate nudged Civilian towards the hallway. “I’ll order us pizza.”

Civilian nodded and forced his steps to slow as he made his way to the bedroom. Once the door shut and the fan turned on, he buried his head under his pillows and tried to get his breathing under control. 

Faking normalcy was going to be harder than he thought. 

"Oh you're starting dinner already?"

Civilian jumped at the sound of his roommate's voice, the knife slipping and nearly cutting  into his fingertip. A quick glance over his shoulder showed his roommate leaning against the opposite counter, arms folded loosely over his chest. 

Just a casual chat. And yet it felt like a fist suddenly gripped Civilian's heart. Even after three days, it still felt like walking the knife’s edge every time they were in the same room together. 

"I, um, got bored," he said, thankful to be facing away so his terror wouldn't show as he fought it back down. "I didn't know you'd be home so soon."

"I took a half day at lunch. Did some shopping. I got you more of that tea. It seemed to help you sleep."

A hint of guilt colored his roommate's nonchalance. Or maybe Civilian just imagined it. 

"Thanks," Civilian said.

Focus. Focus on the potato. Cube the potato. Be the potato. 

Heart thudding in his ears, his concentration on chopping vegetables, Civilian didn't hear the movement until his roommate's head appeared over his shoulder. 

"What are you making?" he asked. 

Civilian swallowed down a lick of sudden hysteria. 

Get a fucking hold of yourself he thought. There is no reason why he'd be suspicious unless you're acting like a lunatic!

"Soup," he managed to croak. "The, uh, kind at the Italian restaurant you like."

A bribe. A hope. A way to remind himself that he knew his roommate, right? They've lived together for two years. 

And true to form, his roommate's eyes brightened. "Oh excellent! We haven't had that in ages."

"That's because chopping all these vegetables is a pain in the ass."

A thick tension rose and tightened between them. Civilian concentrated on chopping, trying to ignore the heat at his back as his roommate didn't step away, didn't leave. Just watched him. 

"You're using the wrong knife, you know," the roommate said softly. 

" . . .what?"

The roommate reached over Civilian's shoulder to the knife block on the counter and pulled one out. It was small and two fingers wide, short and wickedly sharp. Fear clenched Civilian's throat with icy hands. 

"You're using a butcher knife," his roommate murmured against Civilian's ear. A shiver fluttered down his neck. "That's for cutting meat. You need a paring knife for vegetables."

" . . .Oh." Was it just him or did the kitchen suddenly feel low on air? "I'll . . . remember that . . .for next time. . ."

"Why don't I take over? At least for the chopping."

Civilian tightened his grip on the knife, an instinctive gesture he had no control over. But even though Roommate had offered help in the kitchen many times, that same instinct screamed not to let him. Something felt different this time. 

"I got it," he said, forcing lightness in his tone. "You know you're hopeless in the kitchen."

"I'm good with knives, though." Civilian swallowed down another spike of cold terror. "It's the least I can do if you're making me my favorite."

The paring knife rested just inside Civilian's peripheral, deceptively harmless. 

"Why don't you put the gnocchi on to boil," he said. "I'm almost done here."

His roommate sighed, a rush of air against Civilian’s cheek. "You're always so stubborn," he said with sad fondness. 

The paring knife moved like a flash and suddenly it's cold steel pressed light as a kiss just under Civilian's jaw. 

His breath froze in his lungs. 

"Drop the knife, Civilian."

" . . .Roommate?" It wasn't difficult to pitch his voice high in uncertain fear. To pretend shock. "What are you doing?"

"I know that you know."

"Know what?" Civilian breathed and then cringed at how unbelievable it sounded even to his own ears. 

He only had room in his head for one secret,  it was hard to sound convincingly ignorant when every cell screamed at him to run away. 

"You've tried so valiantly to hide it, but I know you too well." Roommate's murmured against his ear.  "You're afraid."

Civilian dragged a shaky breath into his lungs. "You have a knife to my throat."

"And you are nowhere near as shocked about that as you should be." Roommate twisted the knife until the flat of the blade lay against Civilian's skin -- and then he dragged it, achingly slow, over Civilian's jawline to rest against raw bitten lips. 

A wave of dizziness gripped him, driven by fear mixed with the heady, dangerous edge of want, the desire Civilian struggled with for so many months wrapping its claws around his chest. 

"Be a good boy and drop the knife."

Breath came fast and heavy as he willed himself to relax his fingers, to release the knife. Not that he would have even thought of it as a weapon and not a kitchen tool until his roommate demonstrated it. But with one having danced so close to his pulse, letting go of his own felt like a death sentence. 

The second he dropped the knife, his roommate twisted a hand into the fabric of his shirt and hauled him across the kitchen to pin him against the fridge. The smiling tomato magnet they grabbed as a joke at a yard sale clattered to the floor and broke into pieces. The roommate  doesn't so much as flinch, their gaze like stone, the knife never wavering from Civilian's neck.

He swallows thickly against the panic, never more afraid in his life than in this moment. He never thought death would look like his favorite person in the world ready to slit his throat with a paring knife. 

And yet the desire still thrummed beneath it all, a twisted hunger being fed from such close contact, like his body forgot to stop yearning in light of what his mind knew. But the stone-cold glint in his roommate’s eyes twisted his face from comfortingly familiar into dangerously unrecognizable. 

Seeing it shattered something in Civilian just like that stupid magnet. His eyes prickled and stung; the roommate's face turned blurry. Humiliated, he darted his gaze to the window, focusing on the speck of green of the neighbor’s tree swaying in the breeze. 

And waited for death. 

Time stretched long and excruciating between each heartbeat. Then the coolness of the knife disappeared, replaced by warm fingers that nudged his gaze back to his roommate’s.

“Hey,” the roommate said softly. 

That granite hardness of his gaze had melted into soft concern. The exact kind of look he gave Civilian each time a migraine flared up. The reminder of that felt as dangerous as the knife. It couldn’t be real. 

“Hey, it’s okay.”

The words hit him like a slap to the face. 

“Don’t say that!” Civilian hissed. “I didn’t do anything and you’re going to kill me.”

He flinched from the hand that raised up, knocking his head painfully against the fridge. But Roommate only brushed a stray tear away with his calloused thumb. 

“You’re right,” he said pensively. “You didn’t do anything. And I’m not going to kill you.”

He turned and tossed the knife into the sink. Civilian did not feel any safer, however. He felt like a bug under the shadow of a boot,  even as Roommate smoothed his hands over Civilian’s chest in a display of casual affection he would have died for a week earlier. 

“Here is what I am going to do,” he continued. “I’m going to finish dinner. You’re going to compose yourself in a long hot shower and when you get out we are going to eat and have a discussion about the way things are going to be from now on. Is that alright?”

Civilian nodded, not trusting his voice. What other answer could he possibly give?

Part two here

[spamgyu]

BACKBURNER // LAST PART (VERSION 1)

DESCRIPTION: She had grown tired of being on his back burner, the person that he had kept warm until he gotten the girl he has had his eyes set on for years... And with a little help from her friend, maybe... just maybe she'll finally be the first choice. PAIRING: Seungcheol x Reader | Mingyu x Reader GENRE: Angst & Fluff PART 4 | SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

"I'm gong to the gym real quick." He nodded over to the door, his protein shake in hand.

The two had managed to go back to their sense of normalcy on their way back to the hotel – all thanks to him.

Judging from her reaction, he knew that if he didn't make the first move of bouncing back to who they were before that damn kiss, that stupid fucking kiss, she would let the thoughts consume her – driving in silence.

Mingyu had gotten a glimpse of losing her in his mind and he did not want to make it his reality.

Not if he could help it.

He chose to dismiss the tension and the elephant in the room and averted their conversation to anything but what had just happened.

And thankfully, she went along with it – sitting in the passenger seat continuing the conversation of the wedding that was set to take place in two days.

"Bring me back some chips, please." She smiled as she continued to select images for today's instagram upload.

"Yes, ma'am." He saluted before slipping in to the hallway.

The truth was, he didn't want to go to the gym. Hell, he didn't even know if he was going to actually go down to the amenity the hotel offered.

He just needed a breather – a moment to process what he had done... away from her.

Mingyu rounded the corner, bounding for Joshua's room when a door had swung open, revealing the one person he did not want to run into.

"Sup." He nodded, continuing his journey.

He was two steps away from him when Seungcheol called out his name, stopping him in his tracks.

"You said you'd do anything for y/n, right?" He spoke, walking over to Mingyu.

Puzzled with the sudden confrontation, Mingyu was unable to utter a reply – standing dumbfounded in the middle of the hallway.

"Right?" Seungcheol repeated.

"Y-yeah." He replied, his tone coming out more of a question; still unable to comprehend where the conversation was leading.

"I choose her."

Mingyu felt as though the floor underneath him began to chip away, his knees feeling weak.

"I– I fucked up before but I'm going to fix things." Seungcheol continued.

He scanned his friend's face, attempting to read him. Mingyu had known him for nearly six years now. They were once quite close, up until they let their egos and competative nature get the best of them – seeing everything as a game that they both needed to score against each other.

But y/n was different.

To Mingyu, this wasn't a game.

She wasn't a trophy he needed to win.

She was the one thing that he left untouched because she was worth far more than the silent warfare the two have seemed to put themselves in.

He needed to make sure Seungcheol was genuine – she was finally smiling, he was no longer wiping tears away. He needed to know that this wasn't just another play in Seungcheol's books.

And it killed him to see that Seungcheol's soft eyes, the silent plea behind his gaze.

"What does this have to do with me?" Mingyu toyed with the cap of his drink.

"I know she values your opinion and I can't have you stand in between my attempts to win her back." Seungcheol ran his hand through his hair. "She– look, I get it. I'm not your top pick for her, but– I need you to help me."

Help him.

Help him get the girl who he sees as his world, constantly in orbit around her.

The one that he couldn't imagine living the rest of his life with, even if it's just as her best friend.

"Help?" He raised his brows.

"I just need you to let me."

"Let you?"

"Mingyu, dude, come on." Seungcheol was practically begging him. "This is why you guys are pretending right? So you can get back at me? You got it, you got back at me. Please– just let me."

The past few days of bliss had blinded him, forgetting that Seungcheol had known their dirty little secret all along. He was so caught up with experiencing what it was like to have her that he had forgotten that it was meant to end.

This was the one thing she had been waiting for. The reason why they were in this predicament in the first place.

Sticking to his word of doing anything for the sake of y/n's happiness, Mingyu allowed for Seungcheol to sway him this one time.

"Is Sunhee out of the picture?" He countered.

"Wha– yes." Seunghceol nodded quickly. "It's done. It's been fixed. It's y/n."

Mingyu wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

Sunhee was out.

There was nothing else standing in the way between Y/n and Seungcheol.

Except him.

"Okay." Mingyu watched as Seungcheol let out a sigh of relief. "But you mess up one time– I don't care if it's you being two minutes being late, I'm stepping in and I'm going to make sure you don't ever come near her."

"I won't fuck up. Not this time around." He shook his head. "I– I need you to believe me."

"The minute Sunhee comes in between–"

"She won't."

"You better make sure of it."

Seungcheol nodded, bringing his hand up. "I promise."

Mingyu shifted his gaze down to the toy in his friend's hand. "Is that for her?"

Seungcheol let out a sheepish laugh. "Yeah it's uh– a peace offering. I saw it at the ranch we were at and thought of her."

Thought of her.

For once in a long time, he had thought of her.

This wasn't a game to him anymore – Seungcheol had finally taken her off of his backburner.

She was now his priority.

"Everyone still thinks we're together."

"No yeah– I know I just– I'm going to do this right. I know this thing won't fix everything, but I'll show her. However long it takes."

Mingyu swallowed the lump that began to form in his throat as another wave of reality hit him.

After this trip, she was no longer his. Even if it was all for pretend.

The pain began to take over his heart.

He knew this would have to end eventually, more now that he confirmed it with her reaction after their kiss, but he didn't think it would be so soon.

He knew he had to let go.

For her happiness.

"Do it right."

"I will."

Mingyu didn't dare say another word, feeling the lump grow larger as each second pass. He excused himself, continuing his walk to Joshua's room – taking one last glance as Seungcheol turned the corner to the direction of their room.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

She had fallen asleep before Mingyu returned to their room, exhausted both emotionally and physically from yesterday's events. Mingyu had managed to slip back into their room without making a single noise the night before, placing the bag of chips she had requested on their share nightstand that had divided their beds.

She would have thought the time alone with her thoughts, and the rest would be enough to put her mind at ease – but instead, the voices grew louder.

Pestering her the minute she opened her eyes.

He was still fast asleep on his bed, his body turned towards her.

Y/n couldn't help but stare at him as she replayed their moment together.

She had finally gotten what she wanted but why was the man, who pouted in his sleep, across from her plaguing her mind?

Why did he have to kiss her?

She was doing just fine.

She was perfectly fine with allowing Seunghcheol consumer her thoughts; like it had always had been in the last year and a half. She was content with turning a blind eye to all those times he had sent her wondering if continuing their little game of tag was worth it, only choosing to think about all the times he let her leave his home with buzzing feeling in her stomach.

But now, another player had entered the ring – sending her mind into a spiral of overthinking and despair.

She was unsure of many things, all except for two things:

The man she loved had finally chosen her.

Mingyu had kissed her and she did not feel the same buzzing feeling in her stomach.

But why is that she can't get the kiss out of her mind?

"Stop staring." He mumbled.

"You're drooling." Y/n cracked a smile.

His eyes shot open, his hand reaching up to his dry cheek. "Liars go to hell."

"Will you be my roommate there?"

Rolling his eyes, Mingyu sat up – stretching in his position. "Wanna get breakfast?"

Her mind was going at a 100 mph, but more importantly – she wanted to discuss with him what had happened when he left for the gym.

Aside from all the confusion, he was her best friend.

They told each other everything.

"Seungcheol came over last night." She blurted.

He paused his morning stretch. Of course Seunghcheol didn't disclose to her that he had run into Mingyu in the hallway. Why would he?

He had putting a great act since touching down on the island, what was another false shock look going to do?

"How was that?" Mingyu avoided her eyes, pretending to search for his phone under the covers.

"He– uh... we talked. He told me he chose me." She said slowly, keeping her eyes trained on him as he lifted his blanket, peering in.

"That's good, right?" Mingyu finally turned to face her.

The two kept their gaze, the sound of the the air conditioner starting up filling the air.

Why did she think he was going to say something else?

And why did he think she would be jumping for joy?

"No, yeah." She cleared her throat.

"What- what did you say?" He didn't want to hear what she had told him.

He would much prefer that he was left in the dark.

"I told him I'm with you."

"What?" He coughed.

"I mean, well– everyone thinks I'm with you so he can't– no stupid decisions." Y/n chewed at the skin inside her cheek. "Not until after the trip."

After the trip.

He had her until the end of the week.

That is, only for in front of their friends.

"Oh." He nodded.

"He seemed genuine. Never seen him so– I don't know, broken."

"I guess, you got in his head." Mingyu forced out a chuckle.

"Maybe. I just– Should I trust him?"

He licked his lips, letting Seungcheol's words ring in his ears.

"I need you to believe me."

"I can't answer that."

"Why?"

"Look," He scooted off the bed, taking a seat next to her. "At the end of the day, that relationship is between you two. I– He's the one you want right?"

Say no.

"Y-yeah."

"Do you want to trust him?"

Please say no.

"I think."

"Do you trust yourself?"

She turned to face him. "Wha–"

"Do you trust that you'll make the best judgement?"

"I hope so."

"I can't hold your hand for this one but I can pick you up if he lets you down. I'm always here." He sent her a warm smile.

All the voices in her head suddenly stopped.

The person she loved had finally chosen her and the man that had left her brain rattled all night had given her the confirmation that despite the minor slip up the two had, he wasn't going anywhere.

It was more than enough validation for her to know that no matter what, he will always be in her life as a best friend.

It was all simply a lapse of judgement.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

Seungcheol kept to his word.

He really was trying.

They were all gathered around the beach, for one last time before the wedding festivities began. And unlike last time, not a single snarky comment left his lips.

In fact, he seemed to happily carry on conversations with either her and Mingyu; with no signs of anger or annoyance painted on his face.

Hell, she was even caught off guard by his active actions of avoiding Sunhee – laying his towel down in between Jeonghan and Joshua, all while the girl settled for a spot at the end.

"I miss having the group back together like this." Jeonghan sighed, leaning back on his elbows. "We should do more destination weddings."

"Not everyone is bleeding money like you, Han." Joshua snickered.

"Seungcheol is." He countered. "Doubt he'll marry soon, though."

Seungcheol didn't care to protest, laughing along with a few of the boys.

It was all in good fun and teasing.

"Alright let's take bets on who's next to walk down the aisle." Seokmin clapped.

"Money's on Wonwoo." Mingyu took a bite of his spam musubi.

The one that Seungcheol had purchased just before heading to the beach.

"It's warm this time." He mumbled for only her to hear, setting the bag down for everyone to grab out from.

"I second that." Y/n laughed, holding her hand out for Mingyu to place the rice wrap in her hand.

"Get your own." He shook his head, pointing to the bag.

"I just want a bite!" She laughed, attempting to pry it from his hands – only for him to lean away. "Give it."

Taking a larger bite this time, Mingyu used his free hand to lightly push her away from him. "No!"

"God, I think it's going to be you two." Joshua grumbled while they were in their own world, practically wrestling over half a bite of musubi; earning a chorus of laughter from everyone else.

All except Sunhee and Seungcheol.

Though, Seungcheol had managed to hide his disagreeing thoughts well by putting on a fake smile – not wanting to blow his and their cover.

He was trying, after all.

"Yeah, if she doesn't break up with me." Mingyu chuckled, giving in and handing her what was left of his food.

He was planting seeds in their heads for their inevitable end.

"Thin ice, buddy." She joked back, happily popping the rice and spam into her mouth.

The day went on as if nothing was out of place; as if the three didn't hold on to a secret that would have sent at least half of their friend group in to an hour long debate. Possibly even causing a great division.

The three continued about their day pretending as though their minds weren't constantly being bombarded by second guesses and stolen glances.

They all had roles to play, keeping it up for the sake of the peace of the group; something that was quite rare. It been years since they were complete and they knew that ruining the dynamic of it all over a silly little game of charades was out of the picture.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

She found herself comparing the two, allowing for her brain and her heart to battle it out while she tried her best to keep a facade up that she had been fully present in tonight's event.

Jeonghan's rehearsal dinner.

She could have sworn she had silenced her mind earlier this morning, but she was proven wrong as the day went on – more than ever as Seungcheol had began his efforts to win her trust back.

It was almost as if her mind was keeping score for the two.

One minute, Mingyu was putting on a great act for their friends; staying by her side and doting on all her needs that she did not know needed to be met.

And in the short moments when she wasn't attached to Mingyu's hips, Seungcheol would find a way to approach her – making small innocent conversations. He made an effort to ask her about how she had liked the trip so far, taking note of how he seemed to be attentively hanging on to every word that left her lips. As if he was making a mental note of it all.

It had sent her head spinning.

"Getting a drink at the bar, you guys want anything?" Seungcheol announced, keeping his gaze on her.

His offer was mostly directed to her, eyeing her now empty wine glass.

A chorus of no's and no thanks were earned from those sat within earshot of him, Seungcheol lingering to see if she had caught on to his question.

Mingyu had taken notice of this, turning his head to the girl on his right – wondering as to why she had yet to reply.

She didn't hear him.

"She'll most likely want another glass of merlot." He replied for her, sending over a smile.

He was helping after all.

She had a blank stare – clearly lost in her own thoughts, drowning out the voices and chaos around her.

"Right." Seungcheol pulled his lips tight, excusing himself to the other side of the room.

Tapping her knee under the table, Mingyu leaned his body close to the girl. "You okay?"

Blinking away her thoughts, she turned to face him – taken back at his sudden close proximity. "Huh?"

"You're in another galaxy." Mingyu spoke, leaning away at the sight of her flinching.

"Sorry, just– tired." She hummed, reaching for her wine glass only to frown at the lack of it's content.

"Cheol's getting you more. He uh– offered." He sipped his water, answering her silent question.

The score was at a tie, yet again.

The night went on with ease and Y/n could have not been any more grateful that they were no longer obligated to stay seated in their assigned spots – making her way over to the bar while everyone else had decided to disburse throughout the riim.

"Making good use of the open bar, I see." Seungcheol chuckled, lining up behind her as they waited for their turn.

"Always a sucker for free drinks." She shrugged.

"Yeah, I remember from Mingyu's birthday last year." He snorted.

For his big two-five, Mingyu decided to ring in his birthday with a bang – somehow convincing their friend group that a trip to Vegas under his own expense was a great idea.

Within the first night, all but Mingyu and Y/n had tapped out; going a little too hard at the club. No one was able to hold their liquor down the way the duo did. While everyone was nearly begging for Mingyu to cancel their table at the day club, she and Mingyu were happily pregaming to cancel out their hangover.

"My liver hurts just thinking about tequila." She winced.

Seungcheol laughed, recalling to their last night at the party city; when she was out drunk by Mingyu. She had to be dragged back to her hotel room that night, unable to properly find her balance. "Yeah, Seokmin went sober for a good while after that trip."

"Oh my god, yeah." She laughed. "He was so traumatized."

Across the room, Mingyu was sipping his whisk; unable to peel his eyes away from the two. He truly did try to pay no mind to the curious voice that had been pestering him to walk over and find out what it was that had the two laughing.

Instead, he opted to keep his eyes on her – taking in how beautiful she looked.

Maybe that will get his mind off things.

Dressed in a plain yellow chiffon satin dress that ended just above her knee, with her hair pulled back in a low bun; he couldn't help but think how simplicity looked so good on her.

He could spend hours on end just look at her.

"It's cute how in love you guys are." Sunhee grinned, following his gaze.

All while everyone else were off mingling with guests, the two opted to stay back and hold the fort down – their day at the beach catching up to them.

They were no longer those young college students who were full of energy, their bodies unable to keep up with their jam packed days.

"Huh– oh yeah." Mingyu felt his cheeks grow hot as he looked down at the glass in his hands.

Sunhee had caught him staring, shyly attempting to hide the redness in his face.

"Look a you, all shy." She teased. "Being in love is a good look on you."

They weren't close.

Not even friends, they were acquaintances at best – they had only been around each other in group settings.

But like everyone else, she was well aware of the image he had; the same one her best friend had. He was well known to date around, never keeping a girl around for longer than a month.

"Thank you." He gave her a warm smile.

"At least you got to her before he did." Sunhee continued, her gaze following his – but her eyes trained on the man to y/n's right. "I– I didn't realize that I was fucking over her chances with him until the other day."

At least she was aware.

To her it was too late, but oh if she only knew.

"Did me a favor, I guess." He mumbled into his cup, before taking a long sip.

"He's a dumbass though, he never put her first."

It was like she had taken a knife and dug it into his skin, twisting it with each word that left her lips.

Silence fell between the two, but Mingyu knew she had more to say.

Maybe it was the liquor they had all consumed throughout the night, or the fact that she believes there was nothing else on the line, but Sunhee went on to speak. "We fought the other day. Because of her."

That caught his attention.

Mingyu whipped his head to meet her eyes, brows furrowed in confusion. "Why?"

"Well, not fought. I did most of the yelling. He's–" She rolled her eyes, clearly recalling back to her and Seungcheol's conversation at the zipline park. "If he had told me she had given him an ultimatum– God, how stupid could he be? Always thinking with his dick than his brain."

"He told you about Y/n making him pick?"

"Yeah, he thought we were having a moment at the damn ranch and tried to confess– Honestly, I think he finally realized that you guys are serious and wanted me as a last resort."

She was a stupid as her friend.

"Told him how stupid he was for letting her walk out. He should have chosen her. Can you believe him? God, I swear– He's irritates me." She ran her fingers through her curled her, letting out a frustrated sigh.

She was venting to him.

The knife was now buried deep in his gut and he was bleeding out.

Seungcheol had picked y/n in a panic, not because he wanted to. This was what he meant when Sunhee was out of the picture.

He wanted to get up from his seat and head straight to her. He wanted to whisk her away from him and tell her all that Sunhee had just spilled.

But he couldn't.

Mingyu glanced over at her, seeing her laugh at yet another word that had left Seungcheol's mouth; his heart sinking.

In all the times Y/n had talked about Seungcheol, it was all of moments of pain — claiming she wished things were different.

She had finally gotten all that she wanted and he couldn't take that away from her. It was far too selfish.

She was happy and that was all that mattered — and he'll just have to make peace with this.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

To say the setting was beautiful was an understatement; the grassy lawn of the hotel had been transformed to any bride's dream.

Various kinds of white flowers lined the rows and the altar, creating a sight that only a girl could have imagined and pinned on her pinterest board.

Y/n's breath had been taken away when she had first taken a seat, snapping a few pictures before they were instructed to put all their devices away for an unplug ceremony.

She couldn't help but be in awe as the each second passed, shedding a few tears when she had caught a glimpse of Jeonghan's lips quivering at the sight of Eunji making her way down the aisle.

"Jeonghan," Eunji spoke into the mic, taking her turn to profess her vows in front of their guests; a wide grin on her face. "People often talk about how difficult relationships are and I happily can say that I can't relate to them. I get that relationships takes a lot of work, but being with you have never felt like this. It's like I clocked into a shift with my favorite coworker. Our days have always been filled with laughter, the only tears you've ever brought me were when you would make those stupid silly jokes that I love so much. They say love is hard but our love has been the easiest part of my life. And I guess, it's because you have made it so easy. You're not only my life partner but my best friend and I can't wait to start this new chapter of our life together. Today, as I stand here in front of our families and friends, I Park Eunji take you Yoon Jeonghan as my lawfully wedded husband."

While everyone clapped, some wiping away their tears, Y/n couldn't help but let here eyes stray to the line of groomsmen that stood behind Jeonghan — her eyes meeting Mingyu's for only a second.

He had been staring at her all while Eunji proclaimed her love for his friend, unable to help his mind from thinking about y/n.

The easy love that the girl spoke about had perfectly described how he had felt for y/n. Every single word, he could relate it back to her.

Mingyu had quickly averted his gaze back to the couple when he had caught her eyes staring back from the crowd — afraid of shedding any tears.

But that was the thing, Eunji's words had also struck a chord in her.

She kept her eyes in him, the boy that she had watch grow up alongside her — the one she called her best friend.

Eunji was right, love shouldn't be hard. It should be fun, it should be the easiest part of her day.

Just as all her times with Mingyu.

Oh my god, did she love him? Holy shit, she was in love with him

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

The party was at a full swing, the reception program wrapping up and the guest were invited to enjoy the remainder of the night on the dance floor — celebrating with the newly wedded couple.

The sound of a familiar chorus of voices intro blared through the speakers, a smile forming on her lips.

Baby I'm yours. And I'll be yours until the stars fall from the sky.

It was her favorite song.

"May I have this dance?" Mingyu held his hand out, a playful grin on his lips.

There had been countless of drunken nights when the two had obnoxiously sang the words to the Arctic Monkey's cover. The two's go-to karaoke song.

It was both of their favorite love song.

"Disgusting!!" Seungkwan jokingly gagged from his seat as she took Mingyu's hand — allowing him to lead her to the center of the room, joining other paired up bodies.

"Yours until the poets ran out of rhyme..." Mingyu sang, spinning her.

A laugh emitted from her lips as he caught her, dipping her before they swayed like two idiots.

"You look beautiful tonight." He complimented.

"As opposed to..." She narrowed her eyes.

"Your usual look." He replied without missing a beat, knowing that she was simply joking to counter her sudden confession.

"You clean up pretty well, too... I guess." She rolled her eyes.

It wasn't a guess.

She had nearly let out an audible gasp when he stepped out of the bathroom this morning – wearing his assigned black and white suit. She had been so used to his hair always in his face that when she had caught sight of his perfectly groomed hair, showcasing his face, this morning, she could have sworn she nearly swooned.

"Thanks, because this neck tie is choking me." He reached up loosening the fabric — earning a giggle from the girl.

He was going to miss this close intimacy.

Their end was nearing and he could see the end of the road.

More importantly, he could see Seungcheol eyeing him from across the way — nervously swallowing the drink in his hand.

It was his last night with her.

His last dance.

"Hey— about the kiss." Her voice pulled him out of his thoughts, looking down at her.

She was chewing at her lip, the now faded lipstick she had applied earlier in the night faded — showing they had once again become pale.

Mingyu was transported back to a couple of days ago, when they were sat atop the Jeep. His heart sinking as he remembered how devastated she looked once he pulled away.

"Don't worry about it." It pained him to say it.

And it pained her to hear it.

"It was a mistake." He continued.

It wasn't a mistake. I wanted it to happen. He thought.

It shouldn't be a mistake. It's you that I want. The voice in her head screamed.

"Oh."

"I got caught up in the moment."

I've been waiting for that moment.

It was the perfect moment.

She felt as though her heart had been stomped on.

Ripped out and chewed.

It was him that she chose.

Her heart, the one she could have sworn was reserved for Seungcheol, had won the wrestling match — Mingyu had won.

Only, it was a pity that he clearly didn't feel the same.

And god forbid she was going to opt for being on someone's backburner yet again.

taglist closed

@thepoopdokyeomtouched/ @scuzmunkie / @yunjin0 / @morkswatermelonnnn / @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan / @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken / @naturelvrgfstealer / @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter / @musingsofananxiouspotato / @f4iryjjosh / @gatorgirl007 / @girlwithimaginarybiaslist / @daisawa / @ttragiquee / @luchiet / @loveforred /@vannabanana1995 / @uniq-tastic / @porridgesblog / @haolistic / @bbl32 / @calumsfringe / @alsktudy / @chansbaybygirl / @alwaysalmostthere / @listxn / @soupbinlily / @hanniebaby95 / @yonabutnotyuna / @buffhoshi / @kawennote09 / @wwwellacom / @hanniebaby95 / @winterbeartaehyungbestboy

[builtbybrokenbells]

Melodic Memories | Track 2: Wonderful Tonight - Eric Clapton

In a tattered old box shoved deep down in the corner of an overfilled closet, a lifetimes worth of memories lie dormant at the bottom waiting to be rediscovered.

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 17k

Warnings: sadness, heartbreak, crying, high school breakups, unrequited love, estranged parent/strained parental relationships, angst, anger, bickering, name calling, depression, anxiety, self doubt/self consciousness, swearing, flirting, fluff, mentions of hookups/casual sex, sorry if I miss any!

Jake’s POV | Italy, 9:32am

“Come on, Josh. Wake the fuck up.” You muttered, your knuckles beginning to ache from the constant knocking on his door. The one time you needed him, the only time you woke before him was today, when you were stuck facing the most important task of your entire life. “Josh! Let me in!” You shouted, unable to care about disturbing the neighbors sound asleep in the rooms next to him.

Amidst another frantic round of knocking, the door swung open, causing you to stumble forward slightly. Josh stood on the other side, half-dressed with damp hair and a look of clear annoyance on his face. It was apparent he had been awake for a while, and he was actively ignoring your attempts to speak to him. You gave him a half-smile, the expression forced as you tried to upkeep some sense of normalcy despite the anxiety begging to take over.

“Can I help you?” He asked, trying his hardest to stay friendly, even if he wanted to snap.

“Yes, you can.” You nodded, pushing past him and walking into his room without an invitation.

“Come on in, I guess.” Josh raised his hands in exasperation, pushing the door shut as he turned to face you. “It’s not like I have a life, or things to do, or anything like that.”

“Okay, Josh. Can we put the dramatics to the side for a second?” You rolled your eyes. “I need you. This is important.”

As much as you loved your brother, you couldn’t help but get annoyed with his constant need to challenge you and everyone around him. His personality, which was loveable most days, was intolerable at times, but it never usually lasted long. He liked things to happen a certain way, and his strict schedule was key for him to have a good day. If either of those things were disturbed, he could become particularly hard to deal with. Even so, you still needed advice, and he was the only person in the world you trusted with a situation like such.

You could smell the incense lingering in the air, the smoke still hazy in the room under the morning sun pooling from the windows. There was a mat laying on the floor at the foot of his bed, and his trusty handbook to self enlightenment and guided meditations laid atop the mat. You had interrupted his most precious moment of the day, but you were distraught enough to deem your issues more important than his ‘zen’, as he would call it.

He could see the look of desperation in your eyes, the nervous energy surrounding you as you paced the room. Your hands were fidgeting with themselves, occasionally trailing to the hem of your shirt. The crease above your brow was evident, a clear sign of distress, and he too came to terms with the fact that your predicament was more pressing than his morning routine.

“Okay, brother.” He said, grabbing his shirt from the end of the mattress and slipping it over his head. “Just… calm down a little bit, would you? You’re messing up the vibes in here.”

“Oh, would you shove it?” You huffed, pushed your hair from your forehead with your palm, looking towards the ceiling as you tried to gather your racing thoughts. “I don’t care about your fucking vibes, Josh. It smells like the basement of an old church in here, and you look like a fuckin’ idiot.” Normally, the patchouli scent would be a calming experience, reminding you of your brother as soon as it reached your nose and prompting a smile on your face immediately. Now, it just seemed to further irritate your already troubled mind.

“Ouch.” He hummed, crouching down to roll up the yoga mat. “Truth hurts, I guess.” He conceded, understanding that his short fuse was no match for yours when it came down to it. Over the last few years it had only grown worse, and there was only one thing it was accredited to; your burgeoning loneliness and refusal to move on and accept reality.

Six years ago, the world stopped turning. Six years ago, almost to date, you lost the only thing you ever wanted to keep.

Still, after so long and so many different cities, after the plethora of different girls in your bed used to mend a hole in your heart that only ever seemed to grow larger, she was the very thing you thought of when you had a moment to wander. Her face existed behind your eyes when they closed, her laugh plagued your dreams, what once was sweet music now turning into a haunting song that forever followed you, and her memory existed so profoundly that you could feel her fingertips graze your skin and her lips pressed against yours.

The one that got away, or whatever the fuck people said to explain the biggest mistake of your entire life. She was the one thing that forced you out of bed in the morning, the very thing that lulled you to sleep at night, and the reason behind every breath in between. Even after so long, still being amidst radio silence, completely estranged from the reason your heart continued to beat, she was the only person in the world that mattered. You had come to believe that it would always be this way, and you would be stuck hopelessly pining over someone who no longer knew you. You had come to terms with it, accepted it even, despite it still hurting like a bitch.

Until today. Until six hours ago.

Asleep, caught in another dream about the sweetness of her love and the light of her heart, you expected to wake in the morning in agony, just like you did so many times before. You dreaded opening your eyes only to mourn a loss that should have never happened, to face a pain that had no reason to hurt so damn bad, but this morning was different.

You awoke, and instead of being caught in a constant cycle of misery, longing to know if she dreamt of you too, you were faced with the most beautiful shift in the universe. Her name, still ‘sunshine’ in your phone because she was the warmth of a summer day and the joy of a bright afternoon, sat on your notification bar waiting to be noticed. After six years wasted waiting on something you never thought you would see again, it was right there, waiting for you.

Unfortunately, you had thought about it so much that you seemed completely stuck on what to say. Your only dream aside from the one you were already living came to fruition, through no action of your own, and it turned your whole world upside down. You imagined all you would tell her, the things you would confess after having six years to bargain with it. You had questions, you needed answers to things you couldn’t possible stand to learn, but none of it seemed right.

What could you say to ensure you wouldn’t send her running all over again?

That’s where Josh came in, a level head with an (annoyingly) good stress response. The world could be on fire, and he would be by your side to talk you through it, even if it was mostly incoherent rambling that used far too many complicated words. You wondered if he even had an answer to your troubles, or if he would point you in the same direction of his infuriating need to trust the universe. Would he allow himself to snap out of it for a moment and set you straight, or would he force you to rely on your own prerogative, motioning with his hands to frame an abstract picture that relied heavily upon imagination and intuition?

That was a risk you were willing to take, a fear that was so unimportant that it was near obsolete, even if the latter might cause your already short fuse to blow. Josh was the only person you trusted, your twin who knew what you were thinking before you ever said it aloud. He was your best friend, your confidant, and the only person who knew the extent of your love for the woman on the opposite end of the phone. If he couldn’t help, nobody could, and although you had a tendency to brush off his (mostly) unsolicited advice, you were in dire need of it, now. Even if it would not solve the problem, it would at least give you a chance to speak your feelings aloud. From there, maybe you could sort through them.

“What has gotten you in such a twist?” Josh asked, now intrigued by your far-away stare and obvious disarray. “We have a whole day to ourselves, in Italy, Jacob. The country of love, with art and music and literature. There’s so much to see, so much to learn. If this is about the faulty wire in your amp, we can forget about that for today.” He rambled, his arms outstretched as he accentuated his point with his hands. “And if it is because of that, we can forget about that for good. You’ve bitched about it enough.”

A country of love.

How fucking ironic.

“So, tell me brother, what is it?” He sighed, raising an eyebrow at you as he awaited a response. “Unless it’s about the amp, then please don’t. For my sake, keep that to yourself.”

“It’s not about the fucking amp!” You snapped, your hand flying away from your forehead in exasperation. You couldn’t handle listening to him complain about such nonsense when your entire world felt like it was falling apart.

Or, mending back together.

You weren’t sure which it was, but you did know that no matter what it turned out to be, both seemed just as painful.

“Oookay.” Josh nodded, stepping towards the TV stand and leaning against it. He casted a lingering glance in your direction, eager to hear you correct him on the matter. “Are you going to tell me, or just pace around my hotel room?” You gritted your teeth, knowing that to him, the situation didn’t seem that serious at all because you couldn’t find the strength to say it aloud. Instead of verbally responding, you fished out your phone from your pocket, extending your arm as an invitation for him to see it for himself.

He stepped forward, grabbing it from your hand with no further statements. He turned the screen towards himself, tapping it and watching as it came to life. He skipped over the surplus of Instagram notifications, ignoring the text from your tech telling you the amp was back in working condition, and landed on the one thing that seemed out of place.

“I see.” He hummed, almost as surprised as you were at the sight. “Certainly wasn’t expecting that.”

“Yeah, you and me both.” You muttered, running a hand through your hair again. You were consumed with stress, but it was joined by a nagging sense of relief that you hadn’t felt in a long while. Her company came with an otherworldly sense of peace, even if it completely threw you off course and uprooted your entire life.

“What is it with her, Jake?” Josh asked, making a move to hand your phone back to you. “She was my friend, too. I get it, but you’re still so caught up on her six years after she left.”

“What is it?” You echoed his words, appalled that he would even say such a thing. “She’s it, man. She’s everything. I’m ‘caught up’ because even after six years, I haven’t met anyone that compares to her.”

“Right.” Josh gave a little nod, watching as you clutched your phone tightly in his hand. “Is it because she’s really that person for you, or do you think that all of the childhood wonder will wear off once she’s back around?” Your eyebrows furrowed in anger, floored that after all Josh heard you say about her in your whole life, he could denounce your connection to ‘childhood wonder.’

“It feels like the sun is shining, again.” You said, calm as you spoke in hopes of getting your point across clearly. “For six years, it felt dark. I forgot what it felt like to be warm, and I got so used to life being cold that I started to think that it was normal. Then, suddenly, I wake up to her name on my phone, and it’s bright outside. The birds are chirping, the leaves look greener, and the sun is shining.” You said, making sure to add the extra pronunciation to the last few words, just so he understood the extent of your feelings on the matter. “It’s been so long I almost forgot how much I missed it, Josh.” He stayed silent for a moment, an irritating smile on his lips as he processed your confession.

“I know.” He said, agreeing as if he never questioned it at all. “I think you just needed to hear yourself say it out loud.”

You opened your mouth to speak, confused and irritated with Josh’s approach to the situation. You were unsure why he thought you needed to say it aloud to yourself, because it was the only thing you had thought about in the six years you spent apart.

“Listen to yourself,” he urged. “You’re in here, freaking out over something that you dream about every night. She’s still thinking about you, and I’m sure she’s not just saying it for the sake of it. Stop overthinking it. You know her, and you know what to do. If she’s reaching out after this long, I’m sure she feels the same way you do.” Josh didn’t ask the questions because he was on the fence about your love for her, but rather so you would pry into your own heart and find the answer yourself. He knew your fears, your hesitancy and your uncertainty, but more than anything, he knew how much you loved her.

“But what do I say?” You pressed further, unable to break yourself from your relentless thoughts.

“Say hello, Jake. You waited this long to talk to her, so just say hello.” He chuckled, shaking his head at you. “She wants to talk to you, Jake. Not me.”

“I know,” you sighed, finally feeling your rapid heartbeat subside into a normal rhythm. You really didn’t need Josh’s help at all; you’ve always known how to talk to her, what to say to make her smile and what to do to make her laugh. You just needed someone to listen, to tell you your fear was ridiculous, and that’s exactly what he did. “I’m just scared I’ll fuck it up. I lost her once, man, I can’t handle losing her again.”

“You never really lost her, Jake. Life just got in the way. If you lost her, she wouldn’t be here now, texting you to say she misses you.” You swallowed hard, digesting the truth as you looked back down at the message. He was right, and you were being stupid. One of the reasons you loved her so dearly was because the relationship between you was always easy, just like the love that came along with it. You were making things harder for yourself when there was no real need to do it. “Now, go take a shower and clear your head, and text her back. I wouldn’t wait too long, brother.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” You huffed, your eyes squeezing shut as you tried to force the anxiety out of your head. “Thank you.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” He grinned. “Now, get out of here and go get your girl.”

Her POV | Michigan, 3:51am

The silence was deafening, but for the first time in a long time, it was comforting rather than menacing. The mattress below you was inviting, the sheets cool and the scent familiar. Sandalwood, amber, sweet and soft but just enough to notice it before anything else. It was undeniably beautiful, undeniably home. You took a deep breath, wanting to savor the air around you. It was thick with summer heat, the smell of the trees and the grass hanging heavy within it. You felt lighter than ever before, not even the stickiness of the humidity was able to put a damper on your mood. It had been many moons since you found yourself waking in that room with Jake’s cologne clinging to your skin.

You were alone, still a divot in the mattress from where he laid next to you, but he was nowhere in sight. You looked around the room, your eyes darting to every corner in hopes of finding him there, but it became abundantly clear that you were looking in all the wrong places. You climbed out of bed, looking down at the clothes you were wearing, noticing you adorned a pair of sweatpants that were never yours, even though you wore them like they were. The faded t-shirt that hung from your body had faded lettering, the shadow telling you it once was a Jimi Hendrix logo.

The scene was so beautiful, something you’d lived a hundred times, yet it was so different than what it once was. As your feet carried you to the door of his bedroom, the wooden panels of the floor were frigid, shooting daggers of chill through your body with every step you took. You felt like you could see everything in pristine detail, but at the same time, the corners were fuzzy and the long-distance hazy. You reached out to open the door, following the motion but struggling to complete the task.

After a short struggle, you stepped into the hallway, in search of a boy you weren’t sure you would ever find. You were in his house, but it seemed barren, far too empty and much too quiet. It was dark, so unlike the warmth and light it radiated when you visited so many times before. You took small strides down the hallway, noticing it seemed much longer than it should. When you reached the stairs, you began to notice the familiar pictures on the walls. Family photos, pictures of the boy you loved so dearly, but you couldn’t make out the small details. You tried to focus your efforts, to catch a glimpse of the blinding smile and sparkling brown eyes, but it was all lost on you.

In the distance, far away and barely noticeable, you heard an echo of giggles and the soft sounds of music playing through a phone. It was eerily reminiscent of a memory you held so close to your heart, and you felt your feet automatically begin to follow the sound. The stairs were steep, difficult to navigate in the burgeoning darkness, but you persisted despite the struggle. When your feet hit the cool linoleum of the kitchen floor, you peeked your head around the corner, not daring to disturb the bodies inside and desperate to remain hidden.

In the low light, only the moon filtering in through the window, you saw two bodies close together. A lump formed in your throat, a wave of grief washing over you as you noticed Jake’s hands on the girls hips and her arms wrapped around his neck. Who was she, and why was she so close to him? Why was he letting her get so close while you slept so soundly in his bed?

As you continued to inspect the scene, you could hear them whispering to each other, joyus and giddy as they professed their love for each other. You couldn’t make out the words, nor could you see her face, but your stomach was sick and your chest was burning with indignation. The music playing from his phone was unclear, distant and almost recognizable when you focused all of your attention on it, but it was impossible to pry your eyes away from the picture of the two.

The cuffs of the sweatpants on her legs were rolled up, the pants too large to fit her, much like the ones you were wearing in the same moment. Your eyes trailed to her ankle, noticing a braided tri-toned thread knotted around the limb. You blinked hard, trying to get a better look. When she turned to the side ever so slightly, you noticed letter beads hanging from the handmade anklet.

Three beads, too small for you to read, but you knew it all too well.

You fell to your knees, the sickness in your stomach taking over your entire body. The music on the speaker grew louder, pounding in your ears and making it impossible to block it out. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t speak, and you couldn’t bear to stand witness to the moment any longer. The love in his eyes was overwhelming, staring down at her like she was the only thing to ever exist. His lips mouthed the words of the song, like he was singing it to her as the two of them swayed in time with the slow beat. It was unmistakable, the anklet on her leg adorning the initials for yours and his first name, a heart stuck between them. The sweatpants were to big on her because they were his, and his clothes had always been too big for you. The song, irritatingly loud cemented the reality in your mind that the woman was no stranger.

She was you, and you couldn’t recognize the scene because you’d never once seen the love in his eyes from a distance. It was so easy to overlook when you were standing close to him, but as you watched him love you, it was unmistakable and hard to ignore how much he truly did.

“I told you I couldn’t dance.” He said, his tone soft as he pulled you closer to him. You were standing at a distance, watching him say the words to you as if you were a third party rather than the woman he was speaking to, but you could hear him like he was next to you, whispering in your ear.

“I think you’re doing a great job, baby.” Your voice was different, softer and higher. There was an airiness in your words, a tone you hadn’t adorned in many years. Love was dripping from your lips, and you didn’t recognize the sound because he was the last person you ever spoke to like such.

“Yeah? You think?” He smirked, pulling away from you ever so slightly. He reached for your hand, holding it tightly in his own as he spun you around. You erupted in a fit of giggles, only worsening as he grabbed you by your waist and pulled you back into him.

“I do, bug.” You promised, watching as one of his hands snaked up your back. Before you could process it, he dipped you down, leaning down with you as he pressed his mouth to yours. For a moment, you feared the two of you would lose your balance and topple over. As you watched, you could practically feel the warmth and safety wash over you despite his hands being on a completely different version of you. You envied yourself in the moment, aching to remember what his lips felt like on your own. Watching it unfold in real time was equal to torture, making you realize just how long it had been since you felt so at peace with the world.

When he pulled away, his lips continued hovering over your own, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. The sound of the music swirled around the two of you, freezing you in a time frame you so badly wanted to revisit. Just when you thought it couldn’t be more precious, the gentle sound of his singing filled your ears.

“I feel wonderful

Because I see the love light in your eyes

And the wonder of it all

Is that you just don’t realize how much I love you.”

He pulled you back upright, your head resting on his shoulder and your eyes closed in bliss. You were crying, not the version of you wrapped up in his arms, but the one facing such torture as you watched it unfold. You wondered how the same person could face such a sharp, double edged sword, reveling in the beauty of his love and aching at the loss of it. If only you knew then how bad it would hurt when you left, you might have been more stingy with your heart.

No, not even then. You would have done it a million times over, faced the pain every time in exchange for a single second of his love. It was worth every second of the hurt, but you feared you might not survive it if it carried on with the same intensity.

“Have I told you that you look wonderful tonight?” He asked, his hand holding the back of your head in fear you might pull away. If he could, he would have lived in the moment for the rest of his life, never needing anything other than you beside him.

Before you could answer, the song was interrupted by the annoying chirp of a text tone. Your attention was pulled away, wondering who dared intrude on such a cherished memory. As you turned to look back, the text tone chimed again, and the sight before you began to fade away. The two bodies became washed out in the darkness, barely noticeable anymore. You bolted forward, your hand outstretched as if you could grab them and pull them back. You wanted to keep watching, to keep reliving the pain and the pleasure all balled into one. Before you could reach them, they were gone completely, and the kitchen began to fade around you as the phone continued to ring. Tears were falling from your eyes, an agonizing pain taking hold as you lost sight of the moment for the second time in your life.

You woke with a start, your throat dry and your head aching. You made a move to brush the hair from your face, noticing your cheeks were damp with tears. You had been crying in real time, an automatic response to the visuals in your dreams. You let out a long breath, trying to straighten your thoughts out as you looked to your best friend, fast asleep beside you and completely unbothered. Then, a text tone filled the hair, making you jump in surprise. The sound in the dream must have been your phone going off next to you, you deducted. You picked up your phone, unplugging it from the charger and turning on your side so you could read the notification that disrupted your sleep.

You blinked hard, squinting at the bright light as it hurt your eyes. Sleepiness still plagued your vision, making it difficult to interpret the words despite the screen being inches away from your face. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the blurriness lessened and allowed for you to read what it said.

Your stomach dropped, your mind racing immediately upon noticing who the text was from, and in an instant you were wide awake. Careful not to disturb Mel, you sat upright, the blankets still covering your legs as they fell from your chest. There was no way in the world that he actually replied, and for a moment, you thought it was your mind playing tricks on you after waking up from such a tragic dream. When you continued to stare and the words before you remained the same, a flutter of excitement took hold.

Jake ❤️ - 3:57am

Hey, stranger :)

You let out a long breath, calming your racing heart as you wondered where to go from there. You weren’t even expecting the text to go through, let alone for him to respond. At the very most, you thought someone else would reply, sorrowly informing you that Jake no longer had the number. You had no idea how to respond, no idea where to go from there. You had waited so long to see his name grace your screen, desperately wanting to talk to him but knowing you should stay away. You were terrified of disrupting his life, intruding on something he’d worked so hard to build. You didn’t want to bring back any pain for him, or stand in the way of anything good beginning to blossom. After so long, you didn’t want to hurt him any more than you already had.

Now that he responded, eagerly greeting you and your melancholic message, you wondered if Mel was right and he’d been waiting to hear from you all this time, scared of all the same things.

You pulled your legs towards you, sitting cross legged as you found yourself stuck in that train of thought. As you did so, Ozz, who had been sleeping soundly by your feet, let out a small ‘mrph’, letting you know he was discontent with your sudden movement. You wondered if you should wake the girl sleeping soundly beside you to consult her for advice, but you decided against it. You hadn’t even told her you messaged him yet, and you couldn’t face her wrath so early in the morning, knowing her emotions would be amplified tenfold from being woken up mid-slumber.

Jake ❤️ - 3:59am

Thinking of me, eh? After all this time?

Your lips upturned into a small smile as the second message came through, the words so in character for him. You could practically hear the tone of voice he would have said it in. Your anxiety seemed to flee you as you clicked onto his contact, opening up the text thread.

You - 4:00am

Guess some things never change.

You watched as the delivered notification changed to read, signifying he was sitting in the chat, waiting for your response. The grey bubble popped up, three dots letting you know he was amidst a reply, and you felt the same giddiness as you did at fifteen, texting him for the very first time.

Jake ❤️ - 4:01am

Could have fooled me. Thought you forgot all about me.

You - 4:01am

Never, Jake.

You - 4:02am

Just because I never reached out, doesn’t mean I stopped thinking of you.

Jake ❤️ - 4:03an

I know, sweetheart. Guess it just never got any easier.

At that, you were certain your heart broke in two. He really had been thinking of you all this time, hurting just the same. He was the same Jake, just older and a little wiser, the same as you were. No matter how many numbers decorated your age, neither of you ever stopped caring.

Jake ❤️ - 4:05am

Can I call you? So much I want to catch up on.

You froze, unsure if you should say yes. You wanted to hear his voice, to learn everything you missed out on while you forced yourself away. You wanted to see his smiling face, to know what he looked like after all of this time. You looked to Mel, not wanting to disturb her while she slept, but knowing you couldn’t leave him hanging. You’d done it one too many times, breaking your own heart every time you pushed him away. It felt like fate, finding that box buried underneath so many different things from your childhood. It felt like fate that he still had the same number, and that he responded to the unsolicited message you sent in a moment of weakness.

You - 4:08am

Yes, please. Just give me a second.

You slid out of bed as carefully as you could, sneaking off to the hallway with your phone clutched tightly in your hand. You rounded the corner into the bathroom, flipping the light on as you sat your phone on the counter. You brushed your teeth and washed your face, quickly combing through the mess of tangled hair atop your head. When you looked presentable and felt awake, you flicked off the light and walked downstairs. Staying quiet so not to disturb anyone else, you walked to the couch in the living room and flipped on the lamp beside it. You curled up under the blanket still laying in a pile on one of the cushions, the hum of the air conditioner sending a chill through you.

When you situated yourself, you unlocked your phone and clicked on his contact. For a moment, your finger hovered over the FaceTime button, an abundance of anxiety plaguing you as you realized this was it. This was the moment you dreamed of so many times before, and it was finally a reality. You spent years aching to hear his voice again, to see his smile and that familiar sparkle in his eye. You wondered why it was so hard to follow through, to accept the reality with open arms. You needed it, but it was a million times more difficult than you ever thought it would be.

What if he got on the call and told you that he had a girlfriend, or worse yet, he was married? What if the call didn’t mean the same to him as it did to you, and you were a fool for thinking it did? What if, worst of all, he was in search of closure and you were in search of rekindling? You couldn’t hear the thought of letting him go now, especially after feeling the high of seeing his face again. You couldn’t bear the idea of letting him go, and you didn’t even have him yet.

“Stop it, Y/N.” you scolded, shaking yourself out of the thought. You were being ridiculous, thinking too far into the simple interaction. There was no way Jake would entertain a late night phone call with you if there was someone else sleeping in his bed; he’d never been that kind of person, and he never would be. He wouldn’t ask to call if he didn’t really want to talk to you, and he wouldn’t have responded if you didn’t still take up space in his brain.

You had to live in the moment, rather than the past, and more importantly, the future your anxious thoughts were creating with zero proof of anything. You needed to talk to him, just so you could ease your mind and put the overwhelming thoughts to rest. It was Jake, and he’d always been your light in the dark, and your rationale when things got crazy. You’d never been afraid to talk to him before, and you needn’t be so afraid now, even if it had been an agonizingly long time.

You swallowed your fear and clicked on the video icon, the screen immediately changing to the FaceTime dial screen. The low ringing sounded in your ears, but you didn’t have much time to regret your decision. Within seconds, he had accepted the call and your screen was connecting to his phone. After what seemed like an eternity, the full view appeared, and it felt like you had been punched in the stomach. Your heart stopped momentarily, and your eyes welled with tears just at the sight of him.

He was just as beautiful as you remembered, if not more so, now. He’d grown into an adult, his cheeks filled out and his eyes decorated with small wrinkles as he smiled. His upper lip had a mustache growing in, sending a shiver down your spine as you came to terms with how good he looked with it. The brown of his irises still knocked the air from your lungs, and the pinkness of his lips sent your stomach twisting with emotion. He was dressed, a button up long sleeved shirt from what you could tell, the top slightly undone so you could see a flash of his chest. There was a pendant hanging from a chain around his neck, drawing your attention to the tanned skin below it.

Worst of all, his hair was still slightly damp, like he’d showered not long before he messaged you, and it was long. It hung well past his shoulders, just like he always wanted it to, just like you always imagined it would.

“Hi, sunshine.” His voice was quiet, soft as he seemed to be admiring the sight before him the same as yourself. You couldn’t help but notice the difference in his tone, his voice deeper and a little more gravelly than it was before. He was a man, grown up and so different from the boy you knew in high school, but he was the same. You spent so long fearful that if you did run into him again, you wouldn’t recognize him at all, but he was the very same person you fell in love with so long ago, just a little older now.

“Hi, Jake.” You breathed, your cheeks rosy just from his beauty alone. The nickname on his lips sounded right, so perfect and something you’d longed to hear for years. The corners of his lips upturned into a smile, as if you’d granted him the greatest gift just by saying his name. “You look so different… So good.” You corrected yourself, biting down on the inside of your lip. “Your hair.”

“You like it?” He asked, turning his head slightly so you could get a better view. A blinding smile lit up his face, making the scene all the more precious. “Always told you I’d do it, someday.”

“I love it.” You whispered, your eyes soft and your face encased in a smile that matched his own. “I always hoped you’d actually do it. I knew it would suit you.”

“You look beautiful, sunshine.” He said, his eyes refocusing on the screen as he studied your face. “Just the same as you did all those years ago.” Your heart fluttered at the compliment, your rosy cheeks turning crimson in an instant.

“Thank you,” you squeaked, overcome with excitement as you truly grasped the situation. Your eyes floated around the screen, trying your best to place his location. Your eyebrows furrowed as you realized he wasn’t sitting underneath artificial light, and the glow of his face was because of natural sunlight flowing in through the windows. “Is it… is it daytime, where you are?” You asked, only slightly confused as you awaited his answer. You didn’t think about how much six years could change, and you understood that he could be anywhere in the world, now.

“Yeah,” he nodded, his head turning towards the window. “Oh, fuck, sweetheart. I was so excited to hear from you, I didn’t even think of the time difference.” He exclaimed, looking back to you with a hint of panic written on his face. “It’s gotta be late at home. Did I wake you up?”

“Don’t apologize, please.” You shook your head. “It is late, but it’s okay. I’m so happy to talk to you that I don’t even care.” You explained further, hoping to squash any bit of guilt he had over the fact. “So if it’s daytime, where are you? I think that’s the better question.” You grinned, already moved on from the question of being woken up.

“Me?” He chuckled, finding your intrigue a bit surprising. “I’m in Italy, right now.”

“Italy!” You exclaimed, keeping your voice hushed so you did not wake anyone else. “Jacob, what the hell are you doing in Italy?” He let out a loud, booming laugh at your response, his glee contagious even through the screen. You felt a warmth overtake your entire body, wondering what you could say to get him to laugh like that again.

“Italy today, but we’re not doing a whole lot right now, just seeing some sights before we get back to it. We were in Brazil, and Mexico, France, and Sweden, too.” He listed off, purposefully neglecting to answer the biggest question to build the suspense. “Then, we’re headed off to Germany and Ireland, then to the UK for a few days, then home.” He continued, an irritating little smile on his face as he continued to leave you hanging.

“Okay, and? Brag much?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you downplayed your curiosity and covered it with sarcasm. He let out another laugh, the sound strikingly beautiful as it settled deep in your bones. “Seriously, Mr. World Traveler, what are you doing? And who is ‘we’?” You wanted to hear it all, but you couldn’t deny you were dreading the answer to your second question. You didn’t want to know if it was a significant other, especially now that you were face to face with the feelings that still existed for him.

You could see a flash of hurt in his eyes as you asked, like he was devastated that you didn’t know anything about him anymore. He didn’t know if you kept up with his life, watching his dreams unfold in real time despite the distance, but he wanted you to. He didn’t want to live a life you didn’t have any part in, even if it wasn’t as active as he dreamed it would be. He wanted you to know him, to check in on him like he still did with you from time to time, but he couldn’t blame you. He knew firsthand just how badly it hurt to see you live your life through a screen.

“I did it, sunshine.” He said, answering every question with one, simple phrase. At the sound of his words, you were overtaken by a mixture of grief and pride, unable to properly express how fantastic you felt upon learning the truth.

“Jake,” you breathed, feeling your bottom lip quiver with an abundance of emotion you couldn’t hold back. “You did it?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, a small smile on his face. The sadness in your tone killed him, but it was the exact one that he was feeling, so he did not feel right scolding you for something when he succumbed to the same feeling.

“I’m so sorry.” You took in a sharp breath, fighting back the tears begging to fall. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there, Jake. I always knew you could do it. I’m so proud of you.” Your chest was tight, your head already aching from previous tears shed. You had no idea how you had anything left to cry, but the sadness was so plentiful that you couldn’t seem to do anything else.

“Don’t cry, beautiful.” He pleaded, not because he didn’t understand, but because he knew it all too well. If you let tears fall, he wouldn’t be far behind you, and he was trying so hard to keep himself together. “You don’t have to be sorry for anything. You’re the whole reason I made it here, sunshine:”

“That’s not true.” You shook your head, swiping away tears before they could fall too far. “You’re the reason you made it, Jake. You worked so hard, all of this time. I don’t deserve credit for any of it. I’m just the girl who left.”

“Is that what you think, Y/N?” He asked, in disbelief of your words. Your silence was telling of the truth, answering his question without any doubt. “You’re not the girl who left, sweetheart. You’re everything.”

The one word struck a nerve in you that you did not know existed.

Everything.

He thought of you the exact same way you thought of him.

You weren’t just his ex-girlfriend, nor a high school sweetheart long forgotten in the mess of his chaotic life. You weren’t a girl who broke his heart, and you weren’t someone he despised. You were someone he loved so utterly and deeply, in the same way you still loved him.

“I waited for six years, hoping I’d wake up to a message from you, even if it was to tell me you’d moved on and you were wishing me well so you could close the door on us. It would have hurt, but I would have been happy as long as you were. You’re not some girl, Y/N. You’re the girl. You’re my sunshine.” At that, your head fell back against the cushion of the couch, tears free flowing as you tried your best to process all that he was saying. “I don’t care if it makes me seem like an idiot, but I waited, because you’ve always been worth it to me. Couldn’t move on unless I knew for sure there was no chance of you coming back.”

“I waited too, Jake.” You confessed. “I wanted to talk to you every night, to tell you everything that’s happened since I last saw you, but I was so scared you hated me.”

“I could never hate you, Y/N.” He promised. “You were my biggest fan, and my biggest inspiration. None of this would have been possible if you hadn’t loved me so much.” He confessed, looking pained as he spoke. Even after so long, he was in agony not being there to wipe the tears from your face. He wondered how many times you found yourself like that, over him with nobody there to help you through it. He wondered if it was as many times as it happened to him.

“I have so much to tell you, Jake. There’s so much I want you to tell me.”

“Whatever you want to know, sunshine. I want to tell you everything.” He said, the same softness in his tone as he used to have with you. He was telling the truth; the love he had for you was still there, only growing worse as time went on and he had nowhere to put it down. “But please don’t disappear on me again. I don’t think I can handle it.”

“No more disappearing.” You promised, finding the thought almost laughable. You could barely find enough strength to walk away from him the first time, let alone a second. “So you made it? Tell me about the band. Tell me how it happened.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, a sheepish smile on his face. “We named it ‘Greta Van Fleet’.” He explained, pausing so he could answer as well as he could. “We made an EP with a couple of songs we finished writing just after high school, and it caught some attention. Before too long, we were signed on with a label and writing a second album. By that point, Sam was graduated and we figured we’d move to Nashville. Seemed like a better fit for us.”

“So Sammy plays with you, too? Does Josh still sing?”

“Yeah, Sam plays bass and keys..” Jake chuckled, nodding along as he spoke. “Josh sings for us, yeah.”

“So… your drummer?” You raised an eyebrow, waiting to hear who they picked.

“Daniel.” Jake grinned, seeing your eyes light up with excitement.

“So you kept the whole family together, huh?”

“That’s kind of our thing, I guess.” He shrugged, downplaying the situation to seem nonchalant about it.

“And you’re on tour now? In Europe!” You gushed, more proud of him than even he could comprehend. “For your second album?”

“Third.” He corrected, only slightly smug about it.

“Holy shit, bug. I’m so proud of you.” The pet name slipped out without thought, his eyes softening as he heard the word. It had been too long since he heard you say it, but he could never forget how it made him feel. Your cheeks turned red at the realization of what you had said, only slightly embarrassed that it seemed so easy to slip back into the old routine. “Sorry. Old habits die hard.”

“No need to apologize.” He gave you a soft smile. “Kinda liked it. Been a while.”

“It has.” You nodded. “So… I guess I have some listening to do.”

“Seems like it.” He chuckled. “Only if you want to.”

“I do.” You assured him. “I really do. I didn’t want to disappear on you, Jake. It killed me, but I had to.”

“Why?” He asked, his voice quiet as sadness encased his face. “Why did you have to?”

“‘Cause at the time, I thought it was right. I thought us breaking up was for the best.” Your lips turned down into a frown. “I loved you so much, and the more I talked to you, the harder it was to convince myself it was for the best.”

“Do you still think it was for the best?” The question hit you with a force you weren’t quite prepared for.

Did you think it was for the best? No, of course not; you barely thought it was for the best back then, and you regretted leaving since the very first night spent away from him. Now, though? He just told you how fantastic his life had been since you walked away, and it had you second guessing everything you’d ever believed. You didn’t want to believe it was for the best, but you couldn’t ignore how far he had come. You wondered if you stayed together, if his life would have ended up the same.

“Yes and no.” You swallowed hard, unsure how to answer correctly. “I was miserable the whole time. I missed you so much, and every day I wished I was still with you. At the same time, if we stayed together, would you have done so well in life? Would I have held you back? If we stayed together, would we still love each other so much, or would it have turned into resentment because we couldn’t never fully be together?” It was his turn to be silent, taking in all you had to offer.

“You never would have held me back.” He said with the utmost of certainty in his tone. “It would have been hard in a different way, but I would have been happy to be with you, no matter how far away you were. I would have done all of this and more, with you there to share it with me.” He shrugged. “I regret letting you leave, sunshine. I think about it every day, and it hurts the same as it did six years ago. Sounds so stupid to be so caught up on a high school ex, but nobody ever compared to you. I never wanted anyone else. Still, after this long, you’re the only person I can think about.”

“Me too, Jake.” You whispered, finding it hard to take your eyes off his face. He was so beautiful, no matter where he was or what he did, and it was impossible not to admire him. “Life changed, and so did I, but I still love you like I did back then. It’s almost scary, because I wonder if the rest of my life will always come back to that one guy from high school.”

“Hey,” his eyebrows furrowed, a small smile blossoming on his lips. “I wasn’t just some guy from high school. Give me more credit than that.”

“You’re right.” You giggled. “You’ve always been more than just some guy.” Silence became the two of you for a moment as you reveled in the beauty of being together once again, even if it wasn’t quite the same.

“So, no boyfriend?” He asked, the same boyish charm surfacing that you’d grown so familiar with.

“Definitely not.” You laughed again, your eyes sparkling with emotion. “No girlfriend?”

“Nope,” he gave a single shake of his head, popping the ‘p’ to accentuate his feelings on the matter.

“What a coincidence.” You smiled, teasing him only slightly. “Too bad you’re all the way in Europe.”

“I won’t be here forever, sunshine.” He said, a little more serious than he was a moment before.

“But you’ll go back to Nashville.” You said, unwilling to get your hopes up.

“Eventually, yeah.” He nodded, agreeing to an extent. “Only if I have nowhere else to go.”

You tried not to read too much into it, forcing yourself to believe he didn’t mean it the way you took it, but his intent was quite clear and incredibly hard to ignore. The door was open and he was waiting on the other side, inviting you to join him. He wanted to rekindle the old flame, just as bad as you wanted to do it, but he wanted to hear it from your mouth first. There was nothing stopping you; hell, you were the one who reached out in the first place. Deep down, you were hoping to hear him say that, but it did not make it any less scary.

In six years, it was abundantly clear the two of you had changed. You weren’t even sure if you were compatible anymore, or if the conversation was going so well because of the residual love still leftover. You would have to get to know him all over again and hope that he still loved the newest version of you. More than anything, you were terrified that you would get hurt all over again. Jake was your biggest heartbreak and the only man you had ever loved.

Then again, he was never the one who broke your heart. You did that, not him. In the time you’d known Jake, all he ever did was love, and respect you. Even after you broke his heart, he still tried to stay friends, to help you through your first days of university so you weren’t completely alone. When you told him it was too much, even though it hurt him, he respected your wishes. Now, six years later, he answered your message at the drop of a dime, even halfway across the world. He put his plans on pause, just to talk to you and see how far you had come. He wanted to tell you all he accomplished; he’d been waiting over half a decade to share it with you, because you were the only one he wanted to share it with.

How could you be so afraid of a man who only ever wanted to love you?

Well, you weren’t scared of him. You were afraid of the power he had over you, and all of the love you still had. You were afraid of losing him again, and you were afraid of hurting. In six years, you had never felt as good as you did at that moment. Talking to Jake made the world seem right again, and you were horrified at the prospect of losing it. You barely survived it the first time, functioning only after you forced him out of your mind. Maybe it was too fast to be professing such feelings to him over a FaceTime call at four in the morning, and maybe you had opened yourself up for a whole new world of pain you wouldn’t be able to handle.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to think of a response, because you were nowhere near ready to delve into that subject.

The patter of tiny paws against the floor paired with the jingle of a bell snapped you from your brooding, and within seconds, you were joined on the couch by a cat who was greatly displeased that you left the room without him. He jumped up on the couch, already purring as he stepped onto your stomach and blocked the view of the camera.

“Hi, baby.” You cooed, giving his head a pet in hopes he would ease off on the affection. “Sorry, Jake.” You said, knowing the cat was completely blocking his view of you. He climbed up onto your chest, rubbing his face against yours as if he was dying from a lack of attention.

“You finally got a cat!” Jake exclaimed, completely disregarding your apology as a new train of thought popped in his head. A smile broke out onto your face as you lifted the camera up, giving him a better view of the two of you. When he continued to move towards your face, you slipped your free hand under his front legs, propping him up next to you and turning the camera so he could get a clear picture of the two of you.

Little to your knowledge, Jake took the opportunity to snap a quick screenshot of the moment, his emotion running high and his heart making all of the decisions. He didn’t want to forget a single moment of the sweet reunion. He didn’t want to forget a single moment spent with you.

“I did,” you laughed, turning your head slightly so Ozz had less access to your face as you spoke. You eased your hold on him, letting him meander around freely now that the intruductions had passed. “Or he got us, I guess. Didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.”

“Us?” He asked, curious as to who you were talking about.

“Yeah, my best friend and I.” You clarified.

“God, sunshine, there’s so much I want to ask.” He confessed, chuckling as he watched the cat settle down on your stomach, curling up into a ball.

“Ask away.” You smiled, giving him the same energy he gave you.

“What’s his name?” He started easy, clearly talking about the furry companion taking post on your abdomen.

“Ozz.”

“Like after Ozzy Osbourne?”

“The one and only.” You nodded, smiling slightly. “His full name is The man himself, Blizzard of Ozz: Prince of Fucking Darkness. Ozz is just for short.” As if he understood the pretense of the conversation, he let out a tiny meow at the sound of his name. Jake found himself caught up in another fit of laughter, the name striking him as hilarious and perfectly fitting for you. “We found him in an alleyway by a coffee shop, now the bastard lives like royalty.”

“He does seem pretty… spoiled.” He commented, noticing how content the cat was just to lay on you.

“That’s putting it mildly.” You grinned, scratching behind his ear.

“Your best friend, do you live with them?” He asked, treading carefully. He wasn’t exactly fond of the idea of you living with a guy, even if you did say you were single. He knew it wasn’t his place to be upset over such a thing, but jealousy was a human emotion he was often susceptible to, especially when it came to you.

“Yeah, I do. Her name is Mel. Met her not long after I got to school. We had the same major, and the same intro to lit class, so we clicked pretty fast. Think we moved in together in our second year, and we stayed in the same apartment ‘till school was done.” You explained, keeping it short and simple. You were scared of boring him, but you wanted to tell him every detail of the years he missed, just so it seemed like he never left at all. “She’s great, you’d really like her. She’s the one who encouraged me to reach out, actually.”

“I’ll have to thank her, then.” He gave you a soft smile, seeing his appreciation for the fact. “So you graduated?”

“I did.” A blinding smile took over as you confirmed it. “In April, with honors. I almost gave up a couple times, but I’m so thankful I stuck with it.”

“I’m so proud of you, sunshine. I always knew you’d do fantastic.” Your cheeks turned pink again, almost unsure how to handle such sweet words from him after so long. You were so thankful that the conversation was flowing easily, like there’d never been a period of time where the two of you stopped.

“Thank you. I always wanted to make you proud.” You muttered, almost embarrassed at the thought.

“Are you kidding, angel? I’ve always been proud of you.” He said, leaning a little closer to the screen as he spoke. His face up close was even more stunning, and you found yourself bargaining with the racing of your head.

“You’re so beautiful, Jake.” The words slipped out faster than you could stop them. As soon as they left your lips, you bit down on your tongue, unable to believe you said the thought aloud. You noticed his cheeks turn pink, his whole face illuminated by the warm sunlight flowing in through the windows. Even if you knew you shouldn’t have said it, it didn’t make it any less true.

“You too, sunshine.” A little giggle fell from his lips, like he was bashful about your compliment. You felt your heart ache to be next to him, to hear the laugh in real time. You longed to be with him, but you knew better than that. Things were never this easy, and you were bracing for the inevitable disappointment that always seemed to come. “Tell me more. What are you doing now?”

“Once we graduated, we went to Arizona for a little while. We packed up Mel’s stuff and hauled it back to Michigan. We’re staying with mom for a few weeks so I can pack up my things and apply for some jobs. When we get hired, we’re gonna find a place of our own.” You explained, feeling the sleepiness begin to take hold again. You wanted to fight it for as long as possible, dreading the end of the call and desperate to keep talking to him. “I found an opening at a high school in Ann Arbor that seemed promising, and Mel applied at an elementary school nearby. There was also a position at the University of Michigan as a professor, so I applied there, too. I’m not sure if I’ll get it, but I’ve got my fingers crossed.”

“My girl, the professor.” He muttered to himself, barely realizing the extent of the words that slipped from his lips. Your heart skipped a beat at the sound, the possessive claim potentially misplaced, but feeling like heaven as it washed over you. For a moment, even if it wasn’t truly like that anymore, you wanted to live in the feeling of being his. You neglected to correct him, and he seemed to make no moves to do it himself. “Any one of them would be lucky to have you, sweetheart.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, looking down and away from his burning gaze. “I never thought I’d want to teach at a university, but the older I get, the more appealing it seems.”

“Whatever you choose to do, I know you’ll do great.” He assured you. “So you’re staying with your mom?” You gave a slight nod, fighting a yawn as it clawed at your throat. “How is she doing? And your sister? Does she still play basketball?”

“Yeah, she does.” You grinned. “She’s in university now, too. Got an athletic scholarship and she’s killing it. My mom’s good too, keeping busy like always and happy to have all of us home. I think being alone all of the time gets to her.”

“Yeah, I ran into her a few times after you moved out. She seemed pretty lost without you.” Your chest pained at the thought, but you knew he was right. You and your sister were your mom’s whole world, and when you moved out, she took it hard.

“She never really got back into dating, so she gets pretty lonely here by herself. I think she still talks to your mom on occasion, but she was scared of crossing any boundaries, you know? I told her it was more than alright, but she’s always so worried about everything.” You explained, your voice quiet as you continued to pet Ozz’s head.

“It’s a mom thing. They never stop worrying.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” You giggled. “How’s your parents?”

“Good,” he gave a slow nod, thinking about his response before he spoke. “They miss us a lot. We don’t visit enough, and it makes me feel bad, but life gets so busy.”

“‘Specially for you, rockstar.” Your lips turned up in the corner, finding the nickname perfectly fitting.

“You decided to settle down in Michigan again? I never thought you’d go back.” He switched the subject, trying to hide the blushing of his cheeks at your new pet name. His tone was inquisitive, and full of disbelief. You couldn’t blame him for thinking it, because for your entire life, you had promised you’d never move back.

“Just seemed like the right thing at the time.” You mumbled, unsure of the real reason you wanted to come home. Maybe it was your subconscious forcing you back to Michigan in hopes you would run into him. “Didn’t know where else to go, so I went home. Been here for a few days now, and it’s not so bad. I don’t have any friends here anymore, but that’s okay.”

“You could make friends anywhere, sunshine.” He said, listening intently to every word.

“I found the mixtape, Jake.” You finally confessed the truth behind you reaching out. “I found all of the old stuff, actually.”

“Oh.” He breathed, unsure of how to respond because he wasn’t sure how you felt about it.

“All of the Polaroids, and the love notes. All those flowers I saved, and a shit ton of guitar picks you left here.” A smile pulled at the corners of your mouth as you thought of it. “And the mixtape. I sat down and listened to it last night, for the first time in years.” You paused, feeling your eyes begin to well with tears again. “I can’t believe you did all of that for me, Jake. You were the best boyfriend in the whole world.” The exhaustion was beginning to hit now, and your words were coming out unfiltered. If you waited until the morning to respond, you likely would have kept the thoughts to yourself.

“I wish I did more, Y/N. you deserved the world, and you still do. I keep thinking that if I tried a little harder, we wouldn’t have ended up here.” His words were equal to a stab in the chest. You never wanted him to feel less than good enough, because he was everything to you, still to this day. Nothing he did drove you away, and nothing he could have done would have made you stay.

“I like to think things happened the way they did because they had to, like our story was already written before it started.” You explained, knowing that was the only reasoning that helped you survive the time without him. “We couldn’t have changed the way things played out, so we shouldn’t beat ourselves up over it.”

“You’re right,” he nodded, swallowing back a lump forming in his throat. “But we can always change the future.”

“I think we are, right now.” You whispered, a breath of hope filling your lungs.

“We are.” He agreed, a soft smile taking hold again. “So you listened to the songs again?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, playing with a frayed thread on the seam of the blanket. “Hence why I sent you that one last night.”

“Right.” He nodded, remembering the message all too well. “I hope I didn’t make the song bad for you again. I only ever wanted to make you happy, to give that memory back to you.”

“No, Jake. F’course you didn’t.” You replied without missing a beat. “Sure, it hurts, but not like it used to. It’s different. It hurts because I was loved, not because I wasn’t.” He sat with the thought for a moment, bargaining with it before he responded.

“I’ve always loved the way you think of things. Like a whole new perspective I’ve never even considered.”

“Things aren’t ever just black and white. There’s a million different reasons for why things happen the way they do, and I think it’s important to consider all of them.” You shrugged, knowing that you’d gone over the million different reasons pertaining to your breakup every day since. “I had a dream tonight, about the Clapton song.” You weren’t sure why you were telling him so much, but you felt like he needed to know, that he needed to hear how cherished those memories were to you.

“I think of you every time I hear it.” He spoke softly, as if he didn’t want the words to scare you away. “Just us, in that kitchen, without a care in the world.”

“We were such romantics.” You giggled, recalling the gentle hold of his hands on your hips as if it were yesterday. Your eyes fluttered closed, allowing yourself to live in the moment again. You could feel the closeness of his face, his warm breath on your skin as his nose brushed yours. His cologne surrounded you, the scent calming and inviting. Slow dancing with him in the kitchen was the only thing that mattered, in that moment and every one that came after.

It was hard, feeling like you wanted to go home whilst you sat at home.

Home was never a building, never the four walls that surrounded you. The house in which you sat in was nothing but a place; cold, dark and empty when he wasn’t beside you. It was a place in which you’d lived the worst days of your life, and one in which you watched your loved ones live theirs. It was a house that your father once lived in, but abandoned in search of a new family with someone better. The house you sat in was not home, not in that moment and not in many others. There were blips in time when that warm feeling came, when you felt welcome and at peace, but it was all due to him.

Jake was the very thing that made home, home, all of those years ago. His love seeped into the walls, touched every surface and item inside, ensuring that the blissfulness would remain long after he left. His laugh, still booming down the hallway and bouncing from the floor to the ceiling despite it being years since he stepped foot inside. Without him, it was just a house.

“I miss you, Jake.” The words echoed through the vacant room, louder each time they passed through your ears. The statement was heavy, weighing you down like concrete. The effect of the notion remained long after silence ensued again, and nothing could break you out of that feeling. You missed him now, and you missed him every day for six years. You missed him the minute you left, and that hole in your heart never seemed to mend. Even when you met new people and tried so hard to fill yourself up with love, it was never enough to replace what you lost when you left him. “I’ve missed you for years. It gets worse every day.”

“I miss you.” He said, knowing it was a grave thought for him, too. “I‘ve spent so long traveling the world, seeing new things and meeting new people, but it doesn’t mean anything without someone to share it with. I want to share it with you, sunshine. No matter if it’s as friends, or as something more. I miss you.”

At that, any semblance of strength shattered, sending your heart along with it. You spent so long trying to convince yourself that he was happy, and that he moved on. You wanted to believe that he found someone who put the stars in his sky, and that you would find that person for yourself, someday. You stayed away because you thought you would only cause him problems, that your presence in his life would be detrimental rather than beneficial, but it wasn’t true. You decided it for him, and he was suffering because of it.

He missed you the same as you missed him, lying awake in bed wondering if you had someone to keep you warm at night. He believed you found someone to replace him, someone who loved you even more desperately and dearly than himself, someone who made you happier than he could. He neglected to reach out in fear it would disrupt your life, that it would cause a problem he didn’t want you to have. Jake suffered, and he suffered just as much as you did. You weren’t being the hero; you were the direct cause of the pain you always wished he would be free of.

“We’re so stupid.” You muttered, feeling your voice crack as you spoke.

“So stupid.” He agreed. “Maybe we can make up for it. Maybe this is our second chance.”

“I want to hear about all of it, Jake. I never wanted to stop hearing about it. I want to see all the pictures, and hear all the stories about you traveling the world, and I want to hear the music you wrote.” You explained, watching his eyes soften as you spoke. It pained you to know he ever thought you wouldn’t want to hear it all. “Seems like I have lots of homework to do.”

“You don’t have to do it all on your own.” He chuckled, shaking his head at your tendency to overwhelm yourself. “Let me show you some pictures now. I have time, if you want to see them.”

“Of course I do.” You stressed the word, nervous that you were beginning to feel the hole in your chest mend back together. You’d grown so comfortable with its presence that you began to forget how painful it was when it formed, and now that it was disappearing, you dreaded it ever returning.

“Okay, hold on.” He grinned, bringing the phone closer to his face for a moment.

As he did, you took a moment to admire the beauty of him as a whole. His completion was soft, his skin smooth and more tan than usual from the summer sun. His hair was dry now, the chestnut locks framing his face perfectly, and the mustache that sat atop his lip prompted an unfamiliar feeling in the pit of your stomach. He was a man now, so different from the boy you loved with all your heart, but even more fantastic. His brown eyes were breathtaking, and you couldn’t help but feel yourself fall for him all over again, in a whole new way.

You never stopped loving Jake, but it had always been the version of him you knew before. Now, you felt the feelings blossoming for the newest, most improved version of him, and you knew you were in too deep. There was not a version of Jake you did not love, and sitting and talking to him now after all the time spent away only proved that even further.

Then, amidst a staring contest with him, the screen changed. He was sharing his photo gallery, eager to share all of the memories he’d made over the last few months with you. Your stomach was overtaken with warmth, joyus that even though you left him, there seemed to be no resentment lingering towards you.

“I’ll just show you some pictures from France, because I don’t want to keep you up all night. I know it’s late there, but I can’t help myself.”

“It’s okay, Jake.” You promised, knowing you’d suffer a million sleepless nights just to listen to him talk about everything and anything, even if it was nothing important.

“Here’s some pictures of the Eiffel Tower. I know we always used to say we’d visit it someday, and when we were there, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wondered if you ever made it there without me.” Your heart sank despite the sweet sentiments, sad at the prospect of not being there with him and knowing even if you did go on your lonesome, you would have been thinking of the same things. “Not a whole lot to see, really. Here’s a picture of all of us there.” He said, swiping to another one. He zoomed in slightly, allowing you to really see the four of them together.

“Holy shit, Jake.” You breathed, in awe at the sight. “You’re all so grown up. Look at Sammy! He grew his hair out too!” You exclaimed, bringing the phone closer to your face. “Danny, too! They look so different!”

“Yeah, it’s crazy, right? I feel that way every day.” He laughed to himself.

“And you and Josh! It’s so easy to tell you guys apart, now.” You studied the photo for a moment longer. “I mean, not that I ever got confused in high school, but your hair is so long and he changed so much. You’re both so different now.”

“Yeah, we broke free from the twin stereotype a little bit. That’s about the only thing that’s changed, though. He’s still as annoying as ever.”

“Be nice, Jacob.” You teased, remembering the arguments and fights the two used to find themselves in. You never understood how it was so easy for them to bounce back, like the minute it was over it seemed as if nothing ever happened at all.

“To him? Never.” He scoffed, swiping to a new picture. “We went to the Louvre, too. I didn’t get as many pictures as I wanted, but I have a few at least. Maybe I’ll go back someday.”

Maybe you could go with him.

You shook the thought from your head, knowing it was a ridiculous idea and that you shouldn’t be getting your hopes up so soon.

“You used to say my picture would end up in there someday.” A small smile blossomed on your lips, the sweet memory coming back to you in a flash.

“And I still believe it.” He said without missing a beat, almost as if he was thinking the same exact thing. “Nothing in there could compare to you, sweetheart.” Your heart skipped a beat, your lungs forgetting how to breathe for a moment as the compliment took hold. He paused for a second, seemingly focusing on you in the little rectangle in the corner of his screen. “Are you… are you wearing my shirt?” He asked, completely pulled from the moment as his mind begged him to ask. Your gaze fluttered downwards, a look of confusion on your face as you studied the faded logo on the front. There was still a hint of blue vinyl clinging to the chest, cracked and peeling from years of use.

“No?” You said, your eyebrows furrowed together. “This is mine.” You deducted, never recalling a time where the shirt wasn’t in your possession. The Eagles were your favorite band, and the greatest hits album cover that used to decorate the front was your favorite album of all time. For years, you wore it to bed every night, never once thinking anything of it.

It was your shirt.

Right?

“No, it’s not.” He laughed, a sparkle of amusement shining in his eye. “I got that in the ninth grade. For my birthday, from Sam.” He continued, his head cocked to the side. “I always wondered where that went.”

“Jake, this is my shirt!” You argued, flustered that he was so certain it wasn’t. “I’ve worn it to bed almost every night since like, the tenth grade!” As the words left your lips, the realization hit you full force. Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open in shock, and you took one last look down at the worn black material of the shirt.

“Yeah, since the tenth grade.” He reiterated, another laugh stuck in his throat. “You seriously thought that was your shirt?”

“Yeah, I did.” You squeaked, your cheeks red in embarrassment. “I just wore it for so long, I guess I never thought much of it.”

“Okay, wait.” He said, now more intrigued than before. “You don’t also happen to have an old Gibson shirt? A black one with a big circle logo and a Les Paul?” You swallowed hard, guilt written clear as day across your features. “You’re a thief!” He laughed, clearly unbothered and finding more amusement about it than you did.

“I can’t be a thief if I didn’t know they were yours!” You defended yourself, a smile tugging at your lips, too.

“I don’t think that matters, sweetheart. Been wondering where the hell those went for years!” His smile was blinding, taking over his cheeks and eyes as he solved a mystery you didn’t know existed.

“Okay, well, do you want them back?” You giggled, growing more comfortable with the fact as he continued to joke about it.

No wonder those shirts had always been your favorite.

“No, sunshine. They’re all yours.” He assured you. “Think it would make me the bad guy if I took them back after so long.”

“Not if they’re yours.” You explained, feeling your smile grow wider as you spoke.

“S’okay, love. They look better on you than they ever did on me.” He said, a note of finality in his voice. “What else did you steal from me?”

“I didn’t steal anything!” You huffed, your cheeks rosy as you tried your best to defend your honor. “Can we get back to these pictures, already?”

“Right,” he hummed, smirking at your flustered face. “Sure, let’s get back to the pictures.” He said, bringing his attention back to his photo gallery.

“Thank you.” You snipped, sassiness dripping from your tone. “Rockstar like you could buy a million Eagles shirts. So concerned about this one.” You mumbled to yourself.

“Yeah, because it’s mine!” He argued, his laugh echoing through his hotel room. “A very thoughtful gift from my dear brother, at that.”

“Photos, Jake!” You giggled, pointing at the screen to draw his attention back to the task at hand.

“Fine.” He grumbled, but you could tell he was teasing. “Anyway, we went to the Château de Chambord, a real life fuckin’ castle, sunshine. It was so beautiful, and it had an actual moat.” He swiped through a few pictures, letting you get a good look at each one. You couldn’t help but notice the tugging of your heartstrings as he spoke French, realizing that he really had grown up and learned so much. He was still your Jake, just ever so slightly different.

“Wow,” you breathed, enthralled in the architecture of the building. “That’s so cool, Jake.”

“Right?” He grinned. “We went to visit a few, but we didn’t have as much time as I would have liked. I can’t wait to go back and see all of the stuff I missed out on.”

“There’s lots of time, bug.” You assured him. “I’m sure you’ll find yourself back there, someday.”

“I’ll bring you with me, so you can see it all, too.” He said, his tone ensuring that you knew he was making a promise. Your eyes fluttered closed, your brain already fantasizing about traveling the world with him by your side. A long time ago, it seemed like a far-fetched dream, but now it seemed like it could be a reality. Even if things were different than they used to be, the possibility of living all of the dreams you once had was still alive. “You should see the cathedrals, sunshine. They’re breathtaking. The pictures don’t even do it justice.” He explained, swiping through to more photos.

You watched, in awe of the beauty of the world that you’d never seen before. You were so proud of him, and you were so happy for him. He was living a life he loved, doing the very things he loved, with the people he loved. You once believed Jake would find happiness in another woman, someone lying next to him at night, someone to love him the way you once did. The thought hurt you, but you never once believed that he would not go in search of that to be happy. He was too lovable to avoid love. Instead, he found it in music and travel, and spending time with his brothers. He found it in every city, and every stage under bright lights, playing guitar until his fingers ached and he couldn’t possibly go on. He found happiness in life, rather than a person, like you secretly hoped he would. More importantly, he waited for you as he searched for that happiness.

You listened as he explained each sight, raving about his favorite things about each one. You adored the scenery, but you couldn’t help but feel more excited to see the pictures that he was in, because to you, he was the most beautiful sight of all. The smile on his face, the way the sun kissed his skin, and the long forgotten feeling of home every time you looked his way. Everything about him was breathtaking, and you knew you were long past the point of no return. You were just as enamored with him as you were years ago, and the nagging feeling seemed to persist despite you trying to shove it down. Worst of all, you’d fallen for Jake as he was now, rather than for the reminiscence of the relationship you once had.

Part of you worried that if you ever crossed paths again, you would hate the newest versions of each other. You feared that after so long and so much change, the two of you would lose any common ground you once had and you would simply be strangers passing by. Now, that fear was obsolete, replaced with a brand new, more powerful one; you clicked just as well as you did when you were young and in love, and now you couldn’t possibly force yourself to get over him.

No matter what, even if Jake was never yours again, you knew you would always be his. At eighty years old, stuck in a nursing home, if he was not taking up the physical space beside you, he would be taking up every single spot in your heart and soul.

So, you still loved him, and you were overjoyed to talk to him after so long, but it did not make the hurt any easier. Now, you were face to face with your love for him, with the knowledge he traveled the world for a living and resided in a completely different state. Just like it was all those years ago, the world didn’t seem to want the two of you together. Distance was always your worst enemy, and you felt the same as you did when he helped you pack up your car and saw you off to school. Loving Jake from a distance was worse than torture, and letting him go was excruciating. You did not know how to make it work, but you did not know how to stop loving him.

You reopened a wound you spent so long sewing shut, and now you were bleeding yourself dry for a chance to have him in your life again.

As he was explaining a picture of The Arc de Triomphe, your attention was pulled away from his voice by a text notification flashing at the top of his screen. You hated to be nosy, and you didn’t want to intrude, but the temptation was too much to resist. You read the words as they flashed across the screen, your heart pounding as your mind was taken by fear. You dreaded seeing something you shouldn’t, more specifically from someone he neglected to tell you about, but as you continued to read the text, you understood that all Jake had said to you was the utter truth.

Josh - 12:13pm

How’s it going? Are you still talking to her??

Josh - 12:14pm

I hate to break up the happy reunion, but we’re waiting for you in the lobby

Josh - 12:14pm

Tell her I said hi

He was pushing back plans to talk to you? Jake Kiszka, the boy everyone dreams of having, was neglecting to explore Italy just to catch up with you?

So many thoughts were running through your head, your heart aching at the prospect of him caring about you so much even after so much time had passed. You had pegged him as a man who moved on, one who had forgotten about you and erased your memory from his mind. You forced yourself to believe he didn’t care, and that you were the fool for being so caught up on him. You wanted to believe those things as the truth, in hopes to make it easier for you to forget and move forward, but it only ever seemed to make it hurt worse. Now, you knew why, and it was because he never stopped caring about you, not even for a second. He was a man who loved so deeply and so much, and he continued to love you the same way even when you completely disappeared from his life.

He loved you so much still that he had to talk to his brother about it before he replied to you, your message seemingly turning his world upside down like the mixtape had done to you.

How could you ever force yourself to forget him again? How, after such a sweet conversation that eased the constant ache in your chest, could you walk away and leave this behind again?

“Fuckin’ Josh.” He grumbled, aware that you’d seen the message too. He didn’t seem concerned over the fact you’d read it, but rather that he had to force himself away from you.

“Jake, I didn’t know you had plans. You didn’t have to keep talking to me.” You frowned, saddened that you distracted him from bigger and better things.

“Are you kidding, sunshine? I know I didn’t have to.” He replied, his face back in the camera view as he stopped sharing his screen. “I wanted to talk to you. There’s never a time when I don’t want to talk to you.”

“I just… go and explore. You’re in Italy, Jake. Don’t waste your time on me.”

“Sunshine, you have never been a waste of my time.” He said, his tone firm and his statement final. “Italy has nothing on you.” At that, you felt the need to cry all over again. What had you ever done to deserve someone as perfect as him? What did you ever do to deserve a love so genuine and kind?

“And you’ve never been a waste of my time, Jake. Not even for a second.” You whispered, your tone wavering under the threat of tears. “I wish we did this sooner. I missed you so fucking much.”

“I could tell you every day for the rest of my life, and I’m still certain you would never know how much I missed you, angel.” You squeezed your eyes shut, desperate to avoid crying in front of him again. You knew he had to go, but the thought of silence after hearing the sound of his voice was devastating. You never wanted to let it go, and you never wanted to be away from him again.

“You should go, they’re waiting on you.” You couldn’t bear the thought of being the reason he missed out on anything ever again. You couldn’t be selfish and keep him from such fantastic things, even if the idea of hanging up the phone was gut wrenching. You would suffer in silence if it meant he could be happy, even if it was just for a moment.

“If I go, will you still be here when I get back?” His voice was soft, afraid of something he couldn’t survive a second time. You knew what he meant; you would not be in his hotel room, nor would you see him in person. He was wondering if you would still be present, if you would answer the phone again if he called. He was terrified that if he walked away, you would disappear on him again.

“Yes, bug.” You promised. “Never again. I’ll never leave you again.” And it was the truth; you could not be the one to walk away again, unless he was telling you to. His love was too euphoric to deny, and his company made the world seem right again. You couldn’t imagine shutting him out like you did once before, and you would never let yourself do it again.

“Thank you for calling, sunshine.” He said, the utmost sincerity in his voice. “You have no idea how much I needed to hear your voice.” You did, because you needed to hear his just as bad.

“Thank you for answering.”

“I don’t want to go.” He confessed, his face sad as he thought about hanging up. There was still so much to say, so much to catch up on, so much love to give after holding yourselves back.

“Me, either.” You muttered.

“Can I text you?” He asked, hopeful despite the sadness seeming to plague him.

“Please do.” You breathed, unable to tear your eyes away from his face. You knew it was wrong, and you knew under no circumstances should you say it aloud, but love was dancing on the tip of your tongue. Despite your age and the time between your last encounter, nothing seemed to change for you. You felt just as strongly, and just as deeply for him. “Send me more pictures. Tell Josh I said hi. Tell everyone I said hi.”

“I will, sunshine.” He promised.

“Okay.” You nodded, grief-stricken at the prospect of saying goodbye.

“No goodbyes.” He said, sharply as if he was reading your mind. It was never that deep, but he was thinking the exact same thing. “I’m not saying goodbye to you—I never want to say goodbye to you again.”

“See you soon?” You offered the alternative, much more comfortable with that rather than a goodbye.

“Yeah,” he breathed, giving a single nod. “See you soon, sunshine.”

“Okay.” You squeaked, feeling paralyzed with sadness as you raised your hand to hit the end call button.

“Hey,” he said, holding on to the moment for a second longer. You raised an eyebrow, your heart skipping a beat as you realized he was dreading the end as much as you were.

“Yeah?”

“You look wonderful tonight, sweetheart.” A tiny smile pulled at the corner of his lips. The small little statement sent you to shambles, your stomach plummeting and your heart breaking. “If I was there, I’d slow dance in that kitchen with you all over again.”

“Whenever you want to, Jake. You know where to find me.” You grinned, your cheeks pink in the pale light from the lamp beside you.

“I do, and I will, sunshine.” He hummed. He knew that no matter how many miles separated you or how many years stood between you, he would always find you, and he would love you just the same. “See you soon.”

“See you soon, Jake.” You promised, taking one last look over his face as the call disconnected.

You let out a long sigh, finding yourself frozen in place long after he disappeared from sight. You stared at his contact, already tempted to dial his number again so you could hear his voice. He was just as beautiful as you remembered him, and just as sweet as he was when you were kids. Most of all, he still loved you in the same way you loved him, which was the most comforting and heartbreaking realization of all.

You locked your screen, giving Ozz a small scratch behind the ear as you thought of everything that happened in the last twenty four hours. Your life, although the same, was completely different and in a way that you always dreamed it would be. Even if he wasn’t technically yours again, he was back in your life, and that was the most important thing. You did not know how you survived without his presence, and you knew for a fact you couldn’t do it a second time.

“This is crazy, right?” You asked the sleeping cat on your chest. “I’m crazy. Am I dreaming?” You continued, listening to him purr away, completely unaware of any of the struggle you were facing. You were crazy for many reasons, but right now the most pressing one was because you were talking to a cat who could not possibly respond to your ridiculous questions. “No way Jake still feels the same way. That’s insane. I’m insane for even thinking it.” You rambled to no one other than yourself, mulling over the idea in your mind. Still, even as you tried to denounce it, you felt crazier for trying to prove it wrong. You had never known Jake as anything other than genuine, and after all he said to you on the call, it was hard to believe he wasn’t being truthful.

You let your head fall back against the couch cushion, exhausted but unable to bargain with the idea of sleep. Your mind was completely consumed with thoughts of Jake, reminding you of all of the nights spent lying awake in your dorm bed. It was so easy for him to become the most important thing to you, and so difficult to think of anything other than him. You knew all too well that even if you did drift off to sleep, you would find yourself stuck in a dream about loving him the way you so badly wanted to.

You were so caught up in thought that you didn’t even hear the creak of the floorboards on the stairs, nor the footsteps echoing down the hallway. Only when a body presented itself beside you on the couch were you broken from the mess of memories plaguing you.

“Hey.” The soft voice spoke, familiar and comforting to you as you listened. “What are you doing awake?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Yeah, figured as much when I woke up and you weren’t in bed.” Mel chuckled, relaxing into the couch the same as you were. You could tell she was much less awake than you, sleep still trying to force her eyelids closed as she spoke. “Anything you’d like to talk about?”

You stayed silent for a moment, staring out the large windows of the living room into the front yard. The street lights illuminated the area, working in time with the moon to create a melancholy feeling as you watched the light wind tickle the grass. There was so much you wanted to talk about, but so little time. Even if you did, you feared it wouldn’t ease the ache in your chest. Worst of all, you thought it might make it worse. Still, Mel was your best friend, and she had never let you down before. Most of the time, she helped you make sense of the mess in your head, giving you a little more clarity and helping to carry the burden of your sadness.

“I texted Jake last night.” Your voice broke through the silence of the sleeping house, the words quiet but landing with an impact that shook the foundation.

“Oh,” she said, intrigued at the thought. “Did he answer?”

“Yup.” You gave a bleak nod. “And apparently he’s been waiting six years to hear from me.” She stayed silent for a moment, already knowing how taxing that thought was to you. “Turns out he still feels the same. He feels the same way I do.”

“So there were a few texts.” She deducted.

“Worse.” You scoffed. “He called me. We’ve been on the phone for the last few hours.” You paused, closing your eyes to rid yourself of the guilt hanging over your head. “He’s even prettier than I remember.”

“Do I have permission to stalk his instagram, now?” She asked, easing the tension with humor. You gave a slight chuckle, nodding your head.

“Sure, Mel. He’s still playing music, too. He made it, and I’m so proud of him. He’s in Italy right now, on tour.”

“Holy shit.” Her eyes widened in surprise, pulling her phone from her pocket. “That’s insane.”

“Yeah, truly.” You smiled, but it wasn’t insane to you. You always knew he had what it takes. You always knew he would make it. There were a lot of feelings surrounding your relationship and Jake as a whole, but doubt of him and his talent and his drive was never one of them. The two of you fell into a silence as you watched over her shoulder, typing names into the search bar to find a picture of the man you were so desperately in love with. “Can I… can I tell you about the second song?” You asked, Jake’s last words hanging heavy over you as you recalled the slow dance in the kitchen. Her eyes flickered to you, and you watched as she slowly lowered her phone to her lap.

“Of course, Y/N.” She nodded. “Talk away. I want to hear all about it.”

TAGLIST: @anythingforjtk @highway-tuna @klarxtr @hollyco @thetroublegetssoloud71 @ageofbajabule @dannys-dream @raceb14 @watchingover-hypegirl @starshine-gvf @do-it-jakey-baby @gretavansara @jakesbeloved @woyayaofdreams @jakeyt @kiszkas-canvas

[avengersassemble-fics]

All I Wanted

chapter 02 "remember to slow down" master list previous chapter ‣ ‣ ‣ next chapter word count 5.3k (fuck) ☆ cursing ♡ smut dress inspo bc im a visual person

The days that followed that night were a delicate dance, or like stepping on eggshells. There was an unspoken tension between you and Jake that hadn’t been there before, at least not ever that you two would acknowledge. It was like that one drunken night back in college, when Jake had come by for a visit when he could manage to slip away from flight school and a night on the town turned into barely making it back to your small student apartment. You two never spoke about that night. Ever.

And now, there was a second night you two wouldn’t ever speak of. When he finally became aware of your guilt.

So what do two people do when there’s tension they can’t address? Ignore it, and throw themselves into “busy” routines. Jake had a routine where he went for a run every morning at 7AM, which left you alone to shower and leisurely wake up at your own pace. By the time he’d return by 8:30 on the dot, you’d have breakfast ready for him when he finished his shower. You weren’t sure if he ever noticed the way your gaze lingered on the beads of sweat that would slip down between his abs.

If he did, he never said anything about it. But.. Jake did notice it, how couldn’t he? He was watching you like a hawk, knowing better than anyone else the turmoil in your mind. You were an overthinker, and even though he had begged you to stop fighting this, stop fighting him, you were too damn stubborn to listen.

Just like he had caught you admiring him, Jake admired you. When he’d get back from his runs and could tell you had showered because your hair still was damp, he would spend the next several hours watching as it dried. He’d be able to see the way your skin glowed from whatever lotion you had used afterwards, and he could smell it from even the farthest side of the room.

And despite the busy routines, there were moments that betrayed the cracks in the facade. When there were moments of laughter, they were quickly followed by silence that suffocated the room. Or the times where Jake goes to pass you in the kitchen and his hand sweeps along your waist as he brushes past, there’s an unspoken weight to it. There were even a few times where you’d start to say something and catch yourself, deciding it best to leave it be. Jake did it too. You both noticed it.

Putting aside whatever was brewing in that house between you two, the facade had to go on.

Invited to your parents 30th wedding anniversary, Jake and you had to buckle up for a night of normalcy, or whatever you two deemed normal at this point. At this point, lying to your family and friends had become the easiest part of this marriage!

Figures.

Your parents weren’t shy when it came to throwing around money, which sounds confusing considering you had been drowning in medical bills and credit card debt before your knight in shining fighter jet came to your rescue. Their money was theirs, they paid for your college education which not a lot of people can say they got the same luxury, but beyond that you had to make it on your own. You were fine with that, it’s what you always expected.

To be fair to them.. You didn’t tell them you were sick. Maybe if they had known, they would’ve helped, but you never wanted to know for sure. You had been dead set you could handle it yourself and Jake was the only one who could see that while, yes, you could.. You’d never be happy or you again without some kind of shoulder to lean on.

You mentioned money because the sheer cost of renting out Meanwhile Brewing, a craft brewery and taproom in south Austin, was a number you couldn’t comprehend. It put into perspective how deep their pockets were to have been able to rent out a place of this magnitude, including bottomless drinks. 

When Jake and you arrived, he had insisted on helping you out of the truck, feigning it was due to your attire, but really he wanted a chance to hold you even for a moment. From the second he saw you walk out of the closet the two of you shared, he was taken back.

Satin warm toned silver, thinly strapped, hugging the best of your curves and valleys and falling just to the mid of your calf, not to mention the slit on the side that came to the midpoint of your thigh. And don’t even get him started on the way the neckline draped elegantly just over the crest of your breasts.

It was going to be a long fucking night, and Jake needed to help you out of the truck. It was a desperate attempt to get his hands on you that worked perfectly in his favor. As soon as he had your feet firm on the ground, Jake let out a low whistle of appreciation.

“Remind me to thank your mother for picking this number out for you,” Jake said before letting his grip on your waist go (reluctantly). The way your face scrunched up and you hit his arm made him grin.

“Shut up,” you mumbled and adjusted the fabric. Fuck.. Was he wishing he was satin fabric right now?.. Yes. “You don’t mean that.”

“Can’t a man compliment his wife?” Jake asked as you linked your arm with his and started to walk through the parking lot towards the back of the property, where already music was blaring and chatter was being made. “Or at least compliment her mom?”

“Oh I’m sure my mom would love some compliments from you,” you encouraged him as you two made it to the epicenter of the gathering. There were groups scattered over the grounds, and you were.. Kind of amazed your parents had this many friends. “I’m not even the tiniest bit surprised she got your measurements down to the smallest millimeter.”

“Don’t remind me,” Jake said as he readjusted his sports coat. It was a nice cream that complimented your dress. And your mother got his whole look tailored just perfectly. “Drink?”

“Gonna need it,” you admitted and he laughed, low and close to your temple as he pressed a kiss to the top of your heads.

“Coming right up,” Jake said before taking his arm from yours and disappearing towards the taproom. You looked around the party in search of your parents.. There was no way you wouldn’t be able to pick them out from this crowd-

The sound of obscene laughter and cute snorts filled the air and immediately you were drawn to it. It was an all too familiar sound you grew up with and used to agonize over when you feared judgment from your friends. Now, it was easy to find them in this large expanse of night sky and warm bulbs lights strung around the buildings.

Just as you neared your father spotted you and his expression softened. 

“There’s my girl,” he said and went to wrap his around around your shoulder, which you returned by encasing his side. Your mother was mid sip of a drink when she hummed. 

“You came!” She exclaimed and you laughed slightly. 

“Jake and I wouldn’t miss this,” you reassured her. 

“Where is that handsome sailor anyway?” She asked looking around. You had to bite back a laugh. The fact your mother was this sprung out so early in the evening would ensure some fun. 

At Jake’s expense. 

“He’s just getting some drinks for us,” you explained and your father was quick to take hold of his other half, already knowing where this was headed. 

“Let’s get some water in you sweetheart,” he said and you could see the care in his gaze. He led her away towards one of the buildings and disappeared from your view. 

It was touching, it was.. what you had always wanted. To be looked at like that. 

“Is that you, (L/N)?”

Forced from your thoughts, you turned to the new intrusion and faltered slightly. 

“Ben?” You asked with a slight smile. 

Ben was your high school sweetheart, the guy you had the second most first with (second to Jake of course). While Jake had been the hot star football player, Ben was the hot marching band drum major. Two total opposites. Jake was walking charm, Ben had kept that charm for the right people who knew him best. The only things they had in common were.. well that they were hot. 

And Ben still was. While Jake was ashy blonde and green eyes, Ben was black hair and deep brown eyes that screamed warmth. You hadn’t seen him since you two broke up during sophomore year of college. Just before Jake visited actually. 

Ben’s eyes danced over you and you felt something flicker through your mind. They were eyes that had seen you before, but it had been so long that he needed a reminder. 

You saw the way his gaze lingered on your hand. You knew what he was going to ask when he met your gaze once more. 

“Married?” He asked and you nodded. 

“I am,” you admitted. Ben shook his head a bit, though you knew he wasn’t being serious. “You?”

“No,” he said quickly before clearing his throat. “Nearly, but no.”

“I’m sorry,” you offered and he shrugged. 

“Nothin’ to apologize for. Just wasn’t meant to be,” Ben said and glanced you over one more time. “Do I even need to ask who the lucky guy is?”

Your brows furrowed slightly at his question. “I don’t know.. do you?”

Ben laughed and you found yourself reliving the past. What was it with all the memories recently. 

“My money’s on anyone but Seresin,” Ben joked but when your expression didn’t change, but his did - into a frown. “Shit. Seresin?”

“Yeah,” you said and Ben shook his head. “Seresin.”

“Huh,” Ben said and you found yourself.. on edge. Speaking of, where was Jake anyways? “That.. surprises me. I guess I should’ve known when I saw him-“

“You saw him?” You asked and he nodded. 

“Yeah in the taproom-“

“Sorry,” you barely excused yourself and headed in that direction. You managed to get through the turf grass to the taproom and stepped inside. 

Just as littered with people as the outdoors, you scanned your eyes over the different faces and figures mingling. That was until you found him, talking to a blonde who was too close for your comfort. 

Never once did you seriously consider this. You told yourself you’d rather not know what Jake did while deployed, or who he did. It wasn’t your business, not really. This wasn’t real!

So why did it hurt so much to see him let a woman stand that close, let her hand linger on him, let her look at him like she was? Like she wanted to steal him away and fuck him in the back of the truck he drove you two here in?

Too engrossed in the blonde and her figure, to your perspective, he didn’t notice you. You slipped back outside and the nearest drink you could manage to get in your hand was quickly down your throat and then came another. As you held this one though, your hand trembled slightly. 

Retreating outside felt like a necessary escape, that same unsettled feeling of guilt settled in. You didn’t have a right to be upset. Jake wasn’t yours, not really. He could’ve been fucking other women for the last year and it wasn’t your business if that was the case. 

Lost in your thoughts, a hand to your back startled you and you looked up to meet that all too familiar gaze. 

“Woah- you ok, sunshine?” Jake asked and you bobbed your head in a nod. He eyed the drink in your hand, then down to the two he was holding onto. 

“How’d you get that?” He asked and you shrugged. 

“Taproom.”

You could see his hesitation, that raised brow and quick glance over of your stance. Defensive. 

Shit. Jake wasn’t stupid. You must have come looking for him and saw him chatting to the complete stranger who had approached him. 

If things weren’t already tense enough, it’d be worse now. Jake didn’t want to fold completely though. 

“Is that so?” Jake asked in a measured tone.

You saw? 

"Yup," you replied, maintaining a façade of nonchalance.

You saw. You saw him with someone else, and even though the rational part of your mind knew you had no right to feel upset, the emotional turmoil bubbled beneath the surface.

Jake’s jaw was uncharacteristically tightened as he could only nod and let out a small grunt. When you did finish the drink in your hand, you took the one he had gotten you that now became your third drink of the evening.

Unfortunately, for you, Jake didn’t leave your side for the rest of the night. Drink after drink, he was forced to watch you get sloshed, trying to mingle with your parents and keep you in check. He wouldn't classify you as a messy drunk, but at this moment you sure as hell were teetering on the line. You could barely hold a glass without a tremble in your hand.

What Jake didn’t know was the tremble wasn’t from your inebriation.

“Maybe we should slow down a bit,” he tried to tell you around 10 o’clock. He had hoped your parents were going to be wrapping up this thing, but turns out old people like to party too. “You can barely catch your footing.”

“Maybe you should mind your business,” you said with a roll of your neck. “Hubby.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed at your tone. Those around the two glanced over with slight concern but more so annoyance. Again.. You were teetering on that fine line of becoming a pain in his ass tonight.

“(Y/N)-” he tried to grab your hand but you pulled away from him a few steps.

“I’m gonna go find someone who won’t lecture me.. Mmm.. Ben,” you said over your shoulder and Jake swore he saw God at that moment. A quick flash of him at least.

“Excuse me? Woah hey-” Jake said as he followed behind you as you walked along the perimeter of the turf grass, between the brewery and the taproom. He grabbed you by the arm and spun you back into him, careful to not be too forceful but luckily with a few drinks in ya, you were nimble. “Did you just say Ben? As in your ex Ben who played the clarinet?”

“Saxophone,” you corrected and Jake rolled his eyes. “Y’know he’s the only person to tell me he was surprised we got married?”

“That’s because he’s an idiot,” Jake tried to say and you turned to face him with a scowl.

“You’re an idiot,” you mumbled and Jake scoffed.

“Sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you,” he said as he leaned in with his ear and you pressed your finger into his chest.

“I bet you could hear that blonde,” you muttered and Jake hesitated.

“That’s what this is about?” He asked and you shook your head no, taking a few steps back but he was quick to match each one. “The chick in the taproom?”

“Oh so you can hear,” you laughed and Jake nearly growled. Whatever escaped his throat was heavy and irritated. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t like it.

..Why?

“So you’re drunk and jealous, is that it?” Jake asked as he towered over you. “It was nothing.”

“I’m not drunk.. Or jealous,” you tried to argue but the way your eyes couldn’t focus and the knot in your stomach told you otherwise, so you cleared your throat. “She wanted you.”

“Sunshine, even your mom wants me.”

“Gross,” you said with a shake of your head, missing the way he grinned. “Please don’t ever say that again.”

“You started it,” Jake said and couldn’t help but laugh. But his laugh which normally was sweet to your ears only further annoyed you. His dumb laugh, dumb sandy hair, dumb perfect smile..

“Don’t laugh at me,” you mumbled.

“Then stop being ridiculous,” Jake argued. “I would never dream of pickin’ up someone at your parents' party, which I came to with you.. You think that low of me?”

You hated that he was talking with reason, making sense. But it didn’t ease that knot in your stomach that was screaming at you that he had liked the other woman’s attention.

“No,” you finally admitted. “Never.”

“So you’re not mad at me?” He pressed as he stepped closer, drawing your hands towards his chest and running his thumb over the back of your wrists.

Dumb smile, dumb eyes, dumb touch..

“No,” you whispered. “Never mad at my aviator.”

“That’s my girl,” he whispered and lifted your hands so he could place a quick kiss to your knuckles. While you felt a flush of warmth through your spine at his words, it was only then that Jake seemed to notice the true tremble in your hands and his grip tightened slightly. 

“I’ll text your dad and let him know we’re goin’ home,” Jake stated, more so than asked, you were mid-grumble when he shook his head. “How many times do I have to keep telling you to stop fightin’ me?”

“One more time,” you challenged and Jake felt his heart drop. He was sure you weren’t aware of what you were doing to him but jesus fuck was he starting to lose his cool.

“C’mere,” Jake practically growled. He dipped low to hook his arm with ease under your ass and lifted you up and onto a shoulder. With a yelp you clutched onto his back and scowled at nothing as Jake’s legs started back towards the parking lot.

“Put me down, Seresin,” you commanded weakly. Really, there was a tight knot in your lower belly. You felt him tighten his grip on your thighs.

“No can do, Seresin,” he countered and you huffed.

With ease, Jake was able to walk you to his truck, with you thrown over his shoulder. You gave up fighting and let him carry you limp to the truck. With ease, he opened the passenger door and set you in the seat and even buckled you in.

“I put you down,” he said with a shit eating grin and you rolled your head away from looking at him.

“Shut up,” you muttered and he laughed.

“Oh come on, ease up lightweight,” Jake chuckled as he closed your passenger door. With him having to walk around the truck to get into the driver seat, it allowed you time to stew a little bit.

Why was Jake so.. Jake? Y’know? Perfect. He could piss you off but then easily make you smile and laugh and be comfortable again. He just threw you over his shoulder to take you home - his home, your home. At the end of the day.. He was always there each night.

Maybe you were a little tipsy, because you don’t even remember the drive. The only thing that shook you from your thoughts was your door being pulled open and Jake undoing your belt and watching you with a raised brow.

“Do I need to throw you over my shoulder again?” Jake asked. You shook your head.

“Nope,” you declined, making sure the p popped in the air. Jake stepped aside and you slipped out the seat to the rocky ground, your bare feet meeting the dull rocks. Jake, in turn, grabbed your heels from the floor of the passenger side and followed you to the house, hand just at the small of your back to guide you up the steps.

Wordlessly you two went to your room and you were immediately letting your hair down from the clip that had held it up all night. Jake, as watchful as ever, took his sports coat off and tossed it onto the bench at the edge of the bed, and started to undo the buttons of his shirt.

“Unzip me?” You asked him and he was all too happy to do so. Jake stepped up behind you, one hand on your hip and the other finding the small zipper on your back and tugging it downwards

Fuckin’ hell. The more skin exposed to him, the more he realized there was no bra under this dress of sin. The fabric fell open as the zipper ended at your hips and he was reluctant to take his hand away. Very fucking reluctant.

“Thanks,” you said breathlessly and he had to watch as you disappeared into the bathroom, holding the dress up by your chest. Jake ran a hand over his face. His patience and control was paper thin. How was he going to.. Handle this? Handle you? The thought of how bare you were, how easily he could get his hands on you was making him get hotter by the second.

Cooling his thoughts, the bathroom door reopened and there you were once again in one of his shirts, and it fell high on your thighs (those soft merciless thighs). You crawled into bed and stared at him and he felt uncomfortable under your gaze.

“What?” Jake asked, hating how his tone sounded nervous. You didn’t notice.

“You called me a lightweight,” you said and Jake nodded.

“Because you are-”

“You wanna talk about lightweight?” You asked him and Jake scowled slightly. “You remember right?”

“C’mon don’t bring it up,” Jake whined, having undone his dress shirt and tossed it onto the bench as well.

“You got so fuckin’ hammered that night when my roommate turned you down,” you said before giggling. “And I mean.. it was brutal.”

“Yeah and you were a mighty piece of work that night too,” Jake reminded you and you groaned softly, covering your face with your hands. “Being a baby over your loser ex breaking up with you.”

“You didn’t seem to mind.”

It was a mumble but he heard you loud and clear. The night in question was never brought up, yet here you were.. being so fucking casual about it. 

“Maybe not,” Jake admitted.

Fall, Sophomore year at UT. October 12th. 

Reeling from your just two week fresh heartbreak thanks to Ben breaking up with you via text, you weren’t totally surprised when Jake showed up at your apartment after days of radio silence. Unexpected but so appreciative of his efforts, you had done your best to welcome him with open arms. 

And that led him right into your roommates arms. Or, atleast that’s what he wanted that night. He was immediately smitten with the walking sex that was your roommate, and for some reason.. that bothered you. 

She mentioned going to a party, he was all for it. And he fit right into the frat boy scene, getting to drink beer with the guys of the house and have women ogle at him all night long. Sure, he’d manage to catch you and here and there, but beyond that you were left to drink by yourself. 

“There you are,” your roommate managed to find you at some point in the night. You were a few beers in by then. “Where’s your army guy?”

“Navy,” you corrected but she didn’t react. “I dunno. Disappeared awhile ago.”

“He asked me out,” your roommate admitted and something in you dropped. Probably just the alcohol. “Don’t worry- I said no. I couldn’t do that to you.”

“It’s none of my business,” you mumbled and sipped the lukewarm beer. Disgusting. 

“Oh come on, you’re totally into him,” she said and nudged you. 

“We’re just friends. I mean I’ve known him for like.. six years?”

“So?” She asked with a raised brow. “He drove all the way here from San Diego.. For you. If that doesn’t scream he’s into you or desperately wants to fuck you then I don’t know what does.”

Her remark stayed with you through the rest of the night. Finally getting tired of the smell of the frat house and the increasingly intoxicated crowd, you pushed your way through to find Jake, who was just finishing wiping the floor with a group playing pool. 

“Hey,” you said over the music, placing a hand to his arm. Jake turned to face you and grinned. 

“There’s my sunshine,” he said as he threw his arm around your shoulder. “My favorite person.”

“You’re drunk,” you commented and he chuckled. 

“Doesn’t change nothin’,” Jake said and kissed the top of your head. “Still my favorite person.”

“Okay pilot, why don’t we head back?” You asked and after some persuasion he agreed. 

Getting Jake back to your place was a challenge in and of itself. He was chatty with anyone who walked past, it seemed like he was really laying into you as you walked through the campus, and he was just a handful. Jake never got like this.. But this trip so far was a lot of firsts. 

When you managed to get him back to your place and through the front door, you both were a stumbling mess. Alcohol induced laughs and chatter flowed fine between you two. You eased him to sit on the couch and he sprawled out, throwing his arms over the back of the couch and looking you over. 

“I’m gonna change,” you said and disappeared into your room. Stripping from your jeans and shirts, you slipped on some shorts and your fingers grazed over the new shirt you plucked from your closet. It was Ben’s. Still, you slid it on and walked back into the living room and Jake’s brows furrowed.

“Oh come on.. you’re really gonna keep wearin’ his shit?” Jake asked as he stood, moving closer to you.

“It’s just a shirt,” you argued and he shook his head.

“Take it off.”

“..What?” You asked dumbfounded, but Jake’s eyes.. they were dark and clouded, and so fucking hot.

Without another word, Jake lifted his shirt up and over his head, exposing his perfectly toned body underneath. His abs had abs, there was light hair over him that trailed low. And you meant low. Finally able to tear your eyes away to meet his gaze, he was watching you taking him in.

“Take it off,” he repeated, his voice low and intimidating.

You weren��t sure what it was that made you obey but fuck did you carefully lift your shirt off, exposing your soft flesh underneath, only concealed by the old bra you were wearing. But Jake didn’t seem to mind, his eyes lingering on your chest and the way it rose and fell with heavy breaths. Then, he handed over his shirt.

Taking it from him and putting your arms through and over your head, you looked down at the decal before looking up to meet his gaze.

“Better,” he whispered.

There was a tension, a shock in the air as you both lingered before one another. You most definitely weren’t confident enough to make the first move, so lucky for you - Jake was confident enough for the two of you.

“Do y’know how fuckin’ stupid he is?” Jake asked as he closed the gap, his chest so close you swore it warmed you up. “Giving’ you up?”

“Jake-“

“Stop,” he whispered, his head dipping lower as he edged closer. “You’re all I can think about. Even with all this distance between us you drive me fuckin’ wild.”

His fingers lightly traced a path along the curve of your jaw, leaving a trail of tingling sensation in their wake. With a gentle tilt of his head, and his dog tags hitting your chest, Jake captured your lips in a kiss that melted you.

It was slow, tantalizing. His lips moved against yours with a tender urgency, like if he stopped this would disappear. He was kissing you as if savoring the taste of something forbidden and sweet. His hands cupped your face, holding you in place while his tongue darted out over your lower lip, begging to be let in.

And you let him. Jake’s tongue swirled with yours, eager to feel every bit of you he could, like he had been dreaming of devouring you for years. Your hands splayed across his chest, feeling every nook and cranny his chiseled front had to offer. And when your hands danced lower to the waistband of his jeans, an enticing growl escaped his throat. He broke the kiss, letting his lips linger with yours as he breathed you in, and you did just the same.

“Fuck be careful,” he warned you but you shook your head. “You don’t know how long I’ve thought about this.”

“Enlighten me,” you whispered. A small smile broke out over his face and he took you up on the challenge. Picking you up, hands on your ass, he hoisted you up and you wrapped your arms around his neck, and legs around his waist. His arousal was evident as you felt him pressed against you.

Kissing along his jaw, Jake carried you with ease to your room, plopping you down on your flimsy full size mattress before climbing on top. One of his knees pushed your legs open, the other encased your side, and he was back to kissing you with nothing but hunger.

Neither of you could get a bearing, grasping at each other for anything you could get your hands on. Your fingers tugged on his hair, ghosted over his back and chest, even grabbed his ass when he grunted at. Jake, on the other hand, was feverishly putting his hands under your shirt, cupping your breasts over your bra before mumbling between your lips.

“Thought about feeling your tits for so long,” he muttered against you and you nearly whined. “Let me see you , baby.”

He expertly was able to slip a hand behind your back, undoing the hook of your bra with ease. Now completely loosened, Jake lifted off the shirt he just made you put on (his shirt goddamn it) and your bra followed. Exposed to the chilled air, Jake’s gaze was hungry, soaking in the sight of you. His fingers grazed the side of one of your breasts.

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he mumbled before leaning down to kiss your neck. His breath was hot, tingling you through your spine and you fought hard to not make a sound, really not wanting him to know how much he was affecting you. But this only seemed to stir him on, and he fully cupped your breast.

“Not gonna make a noise for me?” Jake muttered against your skin, rolling your nipple in between his fingers as he other hand went to your opposite breast. “I bet you sound so goddamn good.”

You wanted to fold badly, let him hear what was bubbling underneath. He nipped at your neck and your eyes fluttered shut, your breathing feeling like it was nonexistent. Everything about this was wrong, but he felt so so right.

Just as suddenly as you two started this, you both froze when the front door of the apartment opened, signaling your roommates return. Jake’s hands stopped, his lips froze, and it was like all sober cognitive reasoning flooded both of you.

Jake and you never spoke of that night.

But tonight was the first mention of it in years. Jake and you were in a standoff, staring at one another with lingering tension and unanswered desire.

“Much unhappiness has come into the world because of bewilderment and things left unsaid.” ― Fyodor Dostoevsky

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

tag list - sign up here!

@minejungwoo

@laaundromat

@inky-sun

@eli2447

@dizzybee03

@buckysteveloki-me

@seasidh

[whimsicalpolitical]

11) touching the other while at the movies 🫣

-Sugar-coat-it <3 <3 (keep up the amazing work!!)

Body piercer! Matty is literally one of my favorites on here. It’s just so accurate!! Thank you sm!!

18+ MDNI

────────────────────────

You and Matty had decided to spend the evening at the movies, a rare chance to have some normalcy amidst the chaos of his touring schedule. The theater was dimly lit, the seats mostly empty, giving the two of you a semblance of privacy.

Your hand rests on his thigh, a familiar place where you loved to be. The solid muscle beneath your fingers always gave you a sense of connection, a reminder of his physical presence next to you.

You look around you, seeing if anyone would see what you’re about to do.

You grin mischievously and let your fingers trace lazy patterns on his thigh. His breath hitches slightly, and you can see the way his jaw tightens in response. The movie plays on, but your attention is entirely on him, and you know his is entirely on you.

Matty glances down at your hand and then up at you, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. “What are you up to, love?”

Your hand slides higher, fingers brushing against the inside of his thigh. Matty shifts slightly in his seat, trying to keep his composure. His eyes flick to the screen and then back to you, dark with a mix of amusement and desire.

“Behave," he whispers, but there is no real conviction in his voice.

"Can't help it," you murmur back, your fingers dancing dangerously close to the growing bulge in his jeans. "You're too tempting."

He chuckles softly, a low sound that sends shivers down your spine. "You're gonna get us in trouble."

"Maybe," you say, your hand sliding up to rest on the seam of his jeans, feeling the heat radiating from him. "But it's worth it.”

His hand tightens on your knee, his breath coming a little faster. "You're playing a dangerous game, love."

You bit your lip, fighting the urge to laugh. "You like it."

He doesn’t deny it. Instead, he lets out a low groan as your fingers brush against his zipper, teasing but not quite touching. His eyes flutter closed for a moment, his head falling back against the seat.

"You're killing me," he mutters, his voice rough with need.

“Patience baby,” you mock him, saying to him what he’s always saying to you. You finally let your hand slip inside his jeans. The feel of him, hard and hot under your touch, makes your own pulse quicken.

"Can't go anywhere with you, can I?" Matty teases, his lips curling into a smirk. "Always gotta have your hands all over me."

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a grin, “that’s no way to talk to your girlfriend who’s gonna jerk you off, is it?” You lean closer, “be nice.”

“Fine,” You dip your hand under the waistband, firmly grasping his hard cock, eliciting a breathy exclamation from him. “Fuck.”

“That feels nice huh?” Your grip tightens. You start to snap your wrist, up and down. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” He curses as he leans his head back and bucks his hips to desperately seek more pleasure.

You stroke him faster, he whimpers and can’t help but moan; the nosies coming out of his pretty mouth a bit too loud.

“Matty,” you hiss, pulling your hand from him and he’s almost whining about the loss. “Shut up or I’ll stop.”

“Sorry princess,” he kisses your cheek innocently, “please keep going.”

His hands are grasping at the seats so hard his knuckles are going white and his back arching from the seat just slightly. Your jerking him off with an impeccable speed as a copious amount of precum spill down his shaft. He wants to look at you, see your hand wrapped around his cock, but he can’t keep his eyes open long enough to do so.

“Christ- ah.”

“I told you to quit it Matty,” he’s too loud for you, you tilt your head and slow your hand on his cock, earning yourself a pathetic whine from him. You gave him a moment to answer you before you pull your hand away completely.

“Shit, m’sorry, please you’re just too good,” he begs, “please don’t stop.” He lets out a quiet moan and opens his eyes, he reaches for your hand to try and bring it back to his cock. That’s all he cares about in that moment, getting you to touch him again. You raise your eyebrows at him and he quickly starts to apologize again but he begs so sweetly.

The second you wrap your hand around his cock again his hips are flexing up into your grasp.

"Fuck babe, like that." He pants, eyes heavy as you’re starting to rub himself faster. "You love this don’t you.” he speaks, voice light and airy as his chest rises faster. His deep brown eyes look at your own as you nod, biting your lip and gently nodding a 'mhm’.

Your fist pumps slower as he exhales, rubbing his tip with more attention, stimulating him as much as you can for now.

The wet sounds from his dick get louder and he produces more and more pre-cum. The warmth of your hand makes him remember how warm it is inside of you and the way you react when he pinches your nipples. The way you arch into him when he sucks marks onto your chest. The way your fingers tug his hair - fuck. He curses at the memory, squeezing his eyes shut and throwing his head back onto the top of the back rest on the chair.

You start to slow down again, driving him absolutely insane. His throat vibrates, a deep groan rushing into the air. "Fuck," he whispers under his breath, head still tucked back. "Fuck me..." You hear him whine pathetically.

He starts to pant and gasp, as you move your fist faster now, shoulders starting to twist and jolt from this new speed. You even catch his thighs pulse, twitching just a tiny bit... it's like he's completely forgotten that you're there. It's like he has no damn shame, completely consumed by how good he's feeling.

"Holy f-fuck," he curses, "gonna- shit, gonna fuckin'... damn it-" he can't even say it. He can't finish his sentence at all due to how out of breath he is.

He cums in several creamy white spurts, launching into the air before messily wetting his shirt and covered thighs as he groans with relief. The fluid dribbles down your fingers and knuckles, rolling into the back of your palm, but he just keeps fucking himself through it. Making an absolute mess of himself.

“Goddamn baby,” you bring your hand up to your mouth and lick it clean, his eyes never leaving yours. He tucks himself back into his pants.

Matty leans in close, his voice low and teasing. "Bloody hell, you're something else, aren't you?"

You chuckle, feeling a mix of satisfaction and affection. "Just showing you how much I appreciate you."

He leans back against the seat, a contented smile on his face. "Well, I'm certainly not complaining."

[irisintheafterglow]

The Archer (gojo x you)

summary: after your best friend becomes viewed as a monster, the only thing to do is cling to the ones that loved him too. (or, screaming who could ever leave me darling, but who could stay?)

wc: 1.1k

cw/tags: hurt/comfort, angst but heartwarming ending, manga/anime spoilers, established relationship, pet names (babe, baby, sweetheart, etc), mention of vomiting but nothing descriptive, yeah did i mention angst

note: i just need to hold gojo satoru and tell him that it's going to be okay is that too much to ask for (anyways hope you enjoy the pain that my brain farted out)

likes/reblogs/feedback are always appreciated <3

“Su?” He freezes, rooted in place as the sun casts shadows on his unreadable expression. “Where are you going?” He sticks his hands into his pockets and turns to you with a smile so fake you need to take a step back. He'd lost a lot of weight but what terrified you the most was the calm aura that surrounded his weakened body, a contentment that was scary to see on someone in so much agony.

“Mission, just a few Curses plaguing a village of about a hundred.” Forcing normalcy into his voice was as successful as forcing a square block into a round hole and you couldn’t stop the worry from leaking onto your face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because I had another dream.” His face falls, washing over into careful blankness. He was used to this, your technique and the consequences it brought. It was, however, a long time since you confronted someone directly about what you see. “You know, Future, it doesn’t show me what will happen.” He won’t meet your eyes and you hesitantly take a few more steps toward him.

“It shows me what can happen.” 

His words are cautious, delicate as if saying the wrong sentence would break you like a fragile piece of pottery. “And what did you see?” 

“Something that I’m begging you not to fulfill.” You swallow the lump in your throat and blink back the fear threatening to spill over from your eyes. “I’m so scared, Suguru. I’m so fucking scared.” You stumble the rest of the way forward and his arms wrap around you instinctually, holding you tightly as you continue to plead for him not to go. He pulls away to look at you and a sliver of hope pokes the back of your mind when you see the conflict in his eyes. It disappears as resolve hardens on his face. 

“You’re family. Whatever I do, I will not harm you.” 

“I need you to promise you won’t–”

“I can’t promise anything beyond that.” After a moment you have no choice but to nod, defeated, and he pulls away for the last time. “You have my word.”

The news hits you like a train that you saw coming ten miles away, knocking the air from your lungs and sending shards of invisible shrapnel into your body. Because of your technique, you know before everyone–Yaga, Shoko, Nanami, the higher-ups, Satoru. You feel the moment Suguru makes his decision in your own body like cruel twin telepathy and you rush into the nearest bathroom to expel everything you’d eaten that day. You feel the same sensation again when word reaches Yaga, the whispers of massacre and Curse User and traitor seeping into your ears. Nothing, however, could compare to the storm you felt when Yaga told Satoru. 

You fall asleep early in the days after Suguru leaves. Not because his absence didn’t keep you up at night, but because you didn’t really know what to do except hide in dreams. Dreams that kept you in a state of blissful ignorance; you, Suguru, Satoru, and Shoko at the fair or the park or the beach, not scattered into four separate corners by indifferent Fate. Suguru’s departure felt like a severing of your soul, like your brother died rather than your best friend leaving. You avoided others like prey escaping a predator, paranoidly checking reflections in windows for people you didn’t have the energy to talk with and ducking behind corners when voices got too near. When the few missions you completed were over, you were back in bed, curled into yourself so tightly that no one could reach you. 

No one, at least, except Satoru.

He calls you some nights later and you squint against the harsh light of your phone screen. 

“Satoru?”

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty.” There’s a forced smirk in his voice that you see through like glass, immediately noticing the way his pained tone wavers with every uttered word. “Did I wake you from your beauty rest?”

“Mhmm,” you hum exhaustedly, groaning as you sit up in the darkness and swing your legs over the side of your bed. “Door’s open if you need it.”

“Yeah…okay.” The melodically teasing tone in his voice drops in an instant, as does its volume. You make sure there’s an unopened bottle of water ready for when he gets to your dorm. He was probably just as dehydrated from sobbing as you are. “I’m sorry.” 

“For what, love?” 

“Waking you.” You laugh softly, rubbing your eyes and sitting back on the edge of your bed. 

“No, you’re not.”

“You’re too good at that.”

“What, knowing when you’re lying? I thought we weren’t supposed to lie to each other. Relationships 101.” He huffs as much of a chuckle as he can. “What are you really sorry about, Satoru?

His voice cracks and your heart feels like it’s been stabbed a hundred times. “I need you. Really badly.” There was no suggestive air or promiscuous tone in his voice, just unfiltered desperation not to be alone. “Can I–”

“Of course. Get over here; I miss you.” 

You time the duration it takes for him to get to you, two minutes on the dot. He opens your door slowly as if to check if you’re still awake, and shuts it just as gently. You flick on your nightstand lamp and feel your stomach sink when you fully take in just how tired he looks. There’s no trace of anger or frustration on his face, only pure loss. The bags under his eyes deepen as he sighs, avoiding your eyes for the first time you can remember. He just stands there in the middle of your room, deflated and suffering. When he speaks, it’s a strangled and helpless choke. 

“I couldn’t–”

“Shh, just come here.” You rise from your bed and catch him when his knees buckle, his face buried in your shoulder. He doesn’t cry or heave like you did; he just grabs whatever he can with his hands and holds you so needily his arms start to tremble. “I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.” 

When you finally slide under the covers with him, he’s still clinging to you like you’d float away if he let go. “Stay.” He pleads with you even as you have him locked against your chest, gently carding your fingers through his hair. It’s soft between your fingers and reflects the little moonlight seeping through the cracks in your curtains. 

“I will.” You press another kiss to his forehead as if to seal your words, but he doesn’t feel safe yet. 

“Please, stay.” 

“I swear on my life that I will not leave your side.” You try to lace Cursed Energy into your words, make them as unbreakable as you command them to be. Squeezing your eyes shut, you breathe him in, willing him to let himself go. To not be the honored one or the strongest sorcerer, but Satoru, to break down and grieve just as any other man would. 

“I’m so sorry.” There it is, baby. Just let go. 

“I know, sweetheart. Rest now, I’ve got you.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[101crows]

Going To Red for comfort

‘This can’t be happening’

You repeated this to yourself yet again, as if saying it enough times would somehow make it true. The world had taken your birth parents from you and now it was trying to take your found parents too. Another car crash. Not just with one parent this time, no. With both of them.

‘This isn’t happening.’

They were in surgery and the drunk driver that hit them got off with a broken arm and a concussion. You had to see him walking around, talking to the people he loved while your parents laid touch-and-go on hospital beds. You were sure in a few hours you’d be angry as all hell, but after sobbing and screaming and sobbing all over again, all you felt was empty.

Distantly, you heard your phone ringing. It was muffled, like you had lost it under a mountain of pillows, and when you looked at it in your hand you felt a deep certainty that it was not your hand, not your body at all. You stared at for longer than usual, knowing that the word on it was real and familiar, and yet unable to recognize it or who it meant was calling. Only when the call disconnected then started ringing again did you finally register that someone was trying to call you. Reddington was trying to call you.

‘Right. Right, of course, he’ll know what’s happened by now.’

“Hello?”

“(Y/n), darling, I was worried you were ignoring me.” His voice had the same nonchalance it normally did, and yet it was marginally softer than usual. You knew it was on your behalf that he didn’t go immediately into questioning you. Somehow, he knew you would need this sense of normalcy from him, a constant in a world ever-changing.

“I could never ignore you, red.”

You paused for a moment, debating your next question.

“Where are you right now?”

The control you maintained on your voice a moment ago slipped and it became a small, scared thing begging for comfort.

“Already on my way, my dear. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

You felt a wave of relief flood through you. Five minutes. You just had to make it five more minutes. Red was not a miracle worker, but you knew if anyone could help you, it would be him. He would do whatever he could to ensure your parents had the best treatment possible, and you didn’t even have to ask.

“Will you take me somewhere quiet please?”

“You should be with your parents.”

“Please, Red. I can’t be in this damn hospital any longer.”

You heard him sigh, and knew you had won. He wasn’t particularly fond of hospitals, but you downright hated them.

“Two more minutes, darling, then somewhere quiet. Dembe and I will be waiting for you outside.”

You didn’t bother staying on the phone, choosing instead to grab all your things and hurry towards the exit, desperate to leave this stupid white hellhole as quickly as possible. Dembe was waiting for you when you reached the doors, ready to take your bags and put them in the back. You didn’t even have the energy to hand them to him, just stood limply while he grabbed them from you and mumbled out a thank you. You felt like a zombie again as you trudged toward the car, then flung yourself into the seat. You slumped against Reddington, face burrowed into his shoulder.

“Is this real?” He shifted beneath you and draped an arm over your waist, his thumb rubbing circles on your back.

“Unfortunately so.”

You choked back a sob and tightened your grip on his suit.

“The place we’re going… can it be dark too? I like things better in the dark.”

He let out a soft hum of affirmation and something in you realized he was already planning on it. Perhaps if both of you were different people you���d be creeped out by this, but you had long since gotten used to his surveillance. He liked to tell you one could never be too careful.

“Red? One more thing?”

He hummed again to let you know he was listening.

“The man that hit them… I want him to hurt.”

He let out a soft chuckle and draped something over your back.

“That can be arranged.”

[dev1lm4n]

polaroid

pairings: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel made sure the eight shots he took from his polaroid 600 were the best.

word count: 4.4k (istg this is not as long as you'd expect)

warnings: explicit (18+), p in v, no protection, kinda manipulative, joel's old age is emphasized hehe ;)

notes: this is super foul i had to take a break writing it lol. anyways, send me a req or chat me up pls i swear i'm friendly.

10:30 PM

Every ticking noise that damned clock made managed to hammer itself into your subconscious mind. It’s taunting you endlessly, reminding you of the fact that Joel Miller once again broke his promise. You’re aware that it’s a cycle, but you couldn’t help relent the last time around. He was begging on his knees, telling you how much you meant to him, and that it was an honest mistake. He then made another promise. One that you had faith in. Turns out he’s still too mouthy for his own good.

His lies were not good for you. It was dreadful.

Every sense of yours was heightened. You felt the significant need to move without end; if your limbs were moving then perhaps you could continue to burrow that crawling sensation in your stomach, or at least you could ignore it a while. First, it was chewing on the plush skin around your finger tips. It helped satiate your crowded head for a second or two. But then the questions came around without warning.

Had he been in an accident? Was he hurt somewhere, unable to call for help? 

The thought of him lying somewhere injured and alone made you feel sick to the stomach. Pictures of terror flooded your head; all the carcasses and tangy blood. All the rot and rats. You were spiraling in a downward motion. It was only in moments like these that you knew it was still there, the fear, coursing through your veins as if it hitched a ride on your hemoglobin. You needed an immediate distraction. A way to rid yourself of the tumultuous mess in your head, which might just be the small nook of Joel’s things.

You took a leap out of bed, flinching as you’re instantly greeted by the bitterly cold floor boards. It took all of your emotional strength to reach that particular corner and all of your physical strength to pick up the one item that reminded you of Joel; his polaroid 600. The black object gave a light sheen as you cradled it between your gentle fingers.

“I’m home.”

His gruff voice put you at ease. The sigh that escaped your dry lips was slow, as if your brain needed that time to process what had happened, to recollect the marbles you’ve dropped all over the floor. You needed to reset your emotions or else it’ll come faltering down like a broken dam. It’s pathetic how you’re already on the brink of weeping; tears pricked the edge of your vision, that sweet part of your lips tucked under your blunt canines. 

You were soft when it came to him. He was your sole purpose - the only reason you’re still breathing in new air.

Joel’s footsteps sounded familiar. You remembered the rhythm and the weight to it, the click-clack against the wooden floor. But tonight it sounded a little hesitant - a slight drag to the way he moved - which was probably caused by your failure to respond. Here in Jackson people strived to return to a certain degree of normalcy, but everyone knew deep inside that the fear lingers. Neither you nor Joel could ever get rid of the constant fear of carnage, of arriving home to nothing but a corpse.

A defined thud resonated around the room. You looked over your shoulder in response, meeting Joel’s large build crowding the bedroom’s entrance. He looked just as you expected. Revolver in hand, crow’s feet emphasized in worry, tired eyes trained on you; you’d have considered the gesture a little grand if you didn’t know Joel and what he’s been through. But you knew him. Through and through. So you settled on a tight-lipped smile.

“Sweetheart.. you didn’t answer.”

Joel let out a hoarse sigh as he lowered his weapon in haste. You weren’t afraid of his little machinery, but he always hated having it in his hands when you’re around. He told you it made him remember all the blood he’s spoiled and he wouldn’t want that kind of thought being associated with his pretty angel. Joel was corny, that’s for sure.

His shoulders sagged dramatically. He muttered something to himself, perhaps thanking whatever entity out there for keeping you safe while he’s away.

“You’re late. Again.”

Joel was a liar every now and then, but he wasn’t a bastard. He wasn’t planning on making up a fucked-up rationale on why it’s permissible for him to break promises with you, nor was he planning to make you feel like you’re over-reacting and hysterical. He was wrong and that’s that. You weren’t looking his way, but he knew for a fact that you were upset. It’s almost a little too obvious from the way your shoulders heave up and down, as if trying to contain your heavy heart.

“Yeah. I shouldn’t have-”

“You’re doing this way too often, Joel. I don’t think I can-”

His boots drummed boisterously as he approached you with much caution. Your ominous tone was making him nervous.

“No.. don’t do this to me, sweetheart. Please. Just hear me out.”

He knew you’d hear him out everytime, even when half of his truths were undeniably stupid at times. 

“I brought you the films. For the polaroid. Remember?”

“You did?”

You turned on your heel at the bribe he’s thrown. Lo and behold, he’s holding what appears to be a thick case of something. You threw out any trace of manners your parents had taught you and reached instantly for the packaging, practically ripping it off his fingers. Joel didn’t complain one bit. It’s as if he’s planned this all out to happen; your anticipation and ultimately, his forgiveness.

It was the size of your palm. A faded sky blue rocked the front covers, while a streak of rainbow decorated the sides. It looked nothing like you’ve seen before and you’re simply elated to hold such a gem between your hands. You ran your fingers down the softened cardboard front, reading along what was written in thick black letters. POLAROID. A perfect match to the tool you’ve been cradling ever since Joel managed to once again miss his curfew. Your lips inevitably curved into a sweet smile. The fatty part of your cheeks lifted in excitement, causing your eyes to turn into pretty crescents Joel adored a whole lot. You’re so easily satiated - it’s embarrassing at times.

“How do you use it. Joel?”

“Oh, sweetheart, let me show you.”

He shuffled towards your left side. His expression straightened back to how it usually is - a little mean and grouchy - as he received the ancient camera back from you. It must’ve been a fresh stock from back in the day considering how untouched the plastic shell seemed to be. Joel remembered that his polaroid back in the day was anything but pretty. Scratched on all sides, a glittery rainbow sticker stuck to the very front (a little reminder of his sweet daughter Sarah), with a flash button that barely worked. He smiled faintly at the memory.

You watched with great concentration as he tore open the cardboard ruthlessly. He’s not one for patience, that’s a fact you learned just now. His thick thumb made its way past the silver packet, then a small grunt slipped past his lips as a sign of victory. Joel popped the film inside the crevice. A whizzing noise surprised you off your feet, which was rewarded by a light chuckle from your side. 

This contraption of his - the polaroid as he called it - threw up a square-shaped plastic along with its almost alien-like whirring noise.

“What’s that?”

“That’s just the protective casing, no need to worry.”

You hummed in response. Curiosity punctured your bubble of worries.

“I’ll show you how to take a picture, yeah?”

As Joel motioned for you to take a step back, he had this.. look on his face. You would’ve guessed that he was actually gazing at you lovingly if it weren’t for the tinge of fear laced across his features. It was the most obvious in his eyes. Deep inside those brown irises was the brutality he’s endured. Down there was where his black dog resided, pushed into a corner but always looming at every given moment. His eyes never sparkled. Not even with you.

You were deep in thought, perched over the edge of his bed. Joel didn’t warn you when he clicked over the shutters. Either he’s too worn out from his ventures out in the wilderness or he’s just too entranced by the sight you’ve proposed to him. It didn’t matter though. What mattered was the fact that you’ve unfortunately closed your eyes at the bright, flaming flash. What mattered was that you just wasted a very valuable film.

“Shit. I think I closed my eyes there.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“But-”

“You look pretty even with your eyes closed, girl.”

Joel picked up the picture and flicked it over to you. You caught it just in time. But you were utterly puzzled by the fact that there wasn’t anything on the square-shaped paper.

“There’s nothing there, Joel.”

Your eyebrows furrowed unsurely. A million thoughts reeling in as you took the picture between your fingers, looking over it under the moonlight filtering through.

“You need ta wait and be patient, pretty.”

You muttered out a foul word, looking all petulant and bratty at his request. Was he fooling you with all his mystical objects? You stared at the picture expectantly. Cautiously as well, as if it’d turn into something otherworldly. It was then that you saw it. How the colors and shapes slowly emerged from the white paper. And there you were, frozen in time, captured forever in that single moment.

An exaggerated gasp escaped your lips.

“See. It works.”

“Yeah, but my eyes are closed. You need to count to three, y’know. That’s the gentlemanly way.”

Joel grumbled, but agreed begrudgingly. He stretched his back like the old man that he was before he settled beside you. The bed creaked an embarrassing noise beneath his weight - you wondered how the two of you hadn’t received a single noise complaint from your neighbors. You could see him clearly now, where the moonlight shone brighter, even when a part of his face was covered by the blunt-edges of the polaroid.

“One.”

His accent was such a playful tune, as if he were the star of his own movie. You could have sat there all day just to listen.

“Two.”

The map of wrinkles on his face told of the most incredible journey. His crow’s feet told of laughter, of warm smiles and affection. His forehead told of worries past and worries present. But mostly they were so deeply ingrained they told of a man who’s been through hell and back. To reduce his glory to a sign of age and incompetence would be disrespectful.

“Three.”

A flash of white blinded you for a second, but this time you made sure to smile with such poise.

Joel flicked the picture in his hand. He looked.. star-struck. As if he’d caught a glimpse of what Aphrodite looked like herself, of what all the good in this world could manifest into, of how unworthy he was to have you sitting here in his bedroom. You were heavenly - the kind that was unheard of after shit hits the fan - and it was good to be reminded once again. He fell into silence.

“Was it not good?”

He shook his head as he placed the polaroid down by his side.

“Why are you-”

His power was overwhelming when he purposefully pushed you back onto the stiff mattress; it seemed that all his rough jobs chopping up woods and tackling infected had done him a huge favor. Even when he’s grazing the silver birthday mark, he’s still as ravenous as ever. You landed along a gentle thud, his large hand managed to cup over the back of your head to keep you safe. Joel always treats you like a frail porcelain piece, even when you’re begging for him to treat you like a rag doll.

Joel’s large arms caged you in on either side. You feel small underneath him and it felt good. It felt like you didn't have to worry about a single thing in his presence. Your nimble fingers grazed over his worn-out flannel that perfectly fits around his large fore-arms. A squeeze here and there to reassure him that you’re okay with this, with him taking charge. You knew just how defenseless he felt these days and you’d like to ease his burden just for a little.

For a moment, all you could hear was his ragged breathing and all you could see was his darkened gaze.

“You’re so perfect.”

He purred lovingly as he leaned in close. His pointed nose brushed against the lobe of your ears, while his stubble tickled that sensitive spot below your jaw. You’ve always loved the beard-burn from his scarce stubble; it always felt personal, the one thing nobody else could do except for Joel. One touch and it was over. It was always that way with you and him.

His open-mouthed kisses drew a sloppy wet trail down the left side of your neck. He took his time to worship you, granting you those claim marks you’ve always fussed about. A bloom of discoloration here and there. You’ve always told him that it was rather childish, but he didn’t care. You were his art work and this was his creativity taking reins.

There’s something about him that lit you up from the inside and there’s something about you that crushed him. Touching you was like being handed the holy grail, like committing a sacrilegious sin from how faultless you were.

“Stay still.”

He ordered you and you were to comply. 

Joel pulled away ever so slightly to reach for the polaroid that’s abandoned by your side. He gave you a cheeky smile, one that you didn’t think was possible to be sported so confidently by a fifty-something years old. He then lifted the camera to his eye and adjusted the settings, making sure that the exposure and focus were just right. He wanted this picture to be perfect, to capture the essence of those marks he’s crafted like a true artisan.

A flash disrupted your trance once more. Another one of those whirring noises occurred.

You looked at him in disbelief as he put away the polaroid and its creation, giving you his undivided attention once more. Was Joel about to document this entire night like a ballsy teenage boy? You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought. Joel always managed to make things feel juvenile every single time, as if this was your first night tangled up and not the nth time.

“Are you trying to create a sex tape or something?”

“Nah.”

He answered shortly, too busy pawing your tank top off to even give you a proper answer. Joel tugged the thin fabric upwards, giving you a slight tilt of his head to urge you to lift your head and let the tank top slide off. He’s tried the ‘ripping-off’ technique to maintain efficiency before, but he knew he’d be greeted with an earful after you’ve come down from the inebriated daze he’s initiated. Clothes were expensive, that’s what you always say.

If he were to name one part of your body he’s obsessed with, he knew exactly what to say, no matter how shallow it must’ve sounded. They’re just way too pretty. Joel leaned back down, attaching his wet lips to your plush mounds. Throughout the years he’s spent with you, he’s learned your favorites. He’s learned how you’d mewl whenever he’d run your sensitive buds under his calloused fingers. Twisting it cruelly or flicking at it teasingly, he’d marvel at its hardened form every time. Then he’d reattach his lips right on target, suckling on it while listening to your verbal cues. He’d receive a desperate ngh if he wasn’t going the way you wanted him to and a pleased moan of his name if he’s doing fantastic.

“Joel!”

Your squeaked exclamation had him working overtime. His soaked tongue doing laps around your nipples, getting each one all worked-up before he moved on to the sweeter part of this deal. He looked starved doing this and it made your hole twitch.

Once again, Joel leaned back to reach for the damn polaroid, pulling you away from your whimpering frenzy.

“Push your tits together and smile, sweetheart.”

He ordered and you did just that. This time your eyes looked hazy, like you’ve been high on something, but your breasts looked as amazing as always. Nipples perked upwards as a result of his persistent endeavors. Joel looked pleased at the developed picture, scrutinizing every detail as if he’s some acclaimed photographer. He sat back down evenly on the bed. You were left there, smiling loopily and awaiting his next order,

“You want me to take a good shot of you, hm?”

You nodded.

“Sit down, sweetheart, and take off your shorts.”

You pulled yourself up eagerly. Your movements were a little clumsy as you pulled your shorts off, kicking them off once they reached your knee.

“Show me where you need me.”

A taste of doubt pooled in your stomach. He lowered the polaroid slightly, knowing that his encouraging look would ignite back the confidence in your chest. It worked wonders on you everytime and you’re back on track again. You slowly pushed your thighs apart, one at a time to rile him up just the right amount. Your floral patterned panties were still in place as Joel hadn’t quite ordered you to remove them just yet and in this space, you work by his orders. Still, the wet patch was embarrassingly obvious, running down your slit and growing particularly wide atop of your entrance.

He cocked his head to the side. A motion you could only deduct as a heartening push for you to go a step further. You pulled the soft cotton to the side, growing breathless under his cruel stare. The cold night air grazed your clit in a manner that made you writhe; you were sensitive all over and all you wanted to do was beg for him to fill you up already. To have his large hands pin you down and strike your airway, leaving you breathless and asking for forgiveness. But that’s not what good girls do and you know that only good girls deserve to be rewarded.

Apparently exposing yourself to this extent wasn’t enough for Joel as he hasn’t snapped a picture yet. Desperate to please him, you placed your fingers on either side of your outer labia. Lips tucked deep beneath your teeth as you pulled them apart. Only to reveal your throbbing clit and your sweet cunt that’s been twitching at every look he gave you. It’s all sticky too. A webbed substance coating every part vulgarly. Joel chuckled at the sight, making fun of your submission towards him.

The whirring sound occurred again and you were relieved. 

“You want to touch yourself?”

“I want you, Joel, please.”

“That’s not in the question.”

You shivered at his authoritative tone.

“Yes, please.”

Joel nodded permissively. You nodded, doing your best to keep calm under pressure. Pretending he wasn’t there staring you down would be an awfully hard task, but you’re forced to prevail. Your little hole spasmed as you pressed your soft fingers onto your needy clit. You settled on a circular motion, bringing it around your clit then down to gather some natural lubrication from your profusely leaking hole. This motion alone had you chanting his name like a kind of magical mantra.

Your eyes scrunched close, lost in deep pleasure while drowning in embarrassment. It wasn’t enough - that’s for certain - but it was good enough to satisfy the aching pain.

“Put a finger in.”

He recommended and you abide without a saying. Your fingers felt dramatically different than his, they’re a lot stubbier so they wouldn’t be able to reach the good parts, but they’ve become your trusty friend after years of being a lady. Your left hand stayed focused on your clit, while your other hand ventured closer towards your leaking hole. A sharp inhale was what you took before you pushed one finger pass. It went in too easily and just the feeling of being halfway full made you feel euphoric, a hoard of pathetic moans teasing your tongue.

“What a good girl.”

His compliment was accompanied by the now familiar snap of the polaroid, whirring in as per usual to form an image of your vulgar body. Once again, Joel abandoned his treasured property to the side to admire you. Admire his good girl that’s gone by the rules because you know how amazing he’ll treat you when you’re being sweet. Joel was erratic as he unbuckled his belt, doing it with such haste he’s fumbling to pop the buttons open. It made him let out a frustrated grunt that’s easily met with your joyful set of laughter.

“You ain’t gonna get a good fuckin’ if you kept that on.”

His Texas twang shut you up easily. You grinned at him brattily, still stuffing your pussy nice and good as if you can’t stand another minute without something inside of you. He shook his head at the sight. Joel joined in on your playful games when he finally managed to relieve his cock of the fabric prison it’s been kept in. His cock had always been pretty - a pinkish tip with a peachy shaft, always leaking with pearly stickiness up top - yet it seems you’ve forgotten what it looked like up close. After all, it’s been awhile since he took good care of you.

Joel fisted his cock with a tempo you’ve grown familiar with. You’ve witnessed this sight multiple times, yet you’re still bewitched by it everytime. Once he’s satisfied with how sleek he’s turned out to be, he shuffled closer to you. Eyes boring deep within yours with every kind of emotion available to mankind. All mixed up and served as an intoxicating cocktail. He’s trying to tell you something, you knew that, but you’ve never actually figured out what he’s been dying to say. Those thoughts soon turned warp as he fitted himself on your entrance. He ran his shaft up and down over your slit, teasing a reaction out of you.

“Fill me. Put it in- Joel- Joel, please.”

You thrusted your hip upwards with need and that was enough to give him the reassurance he needed. He eased in carefully, knowing that fitting his fat tip was a hard task you never got used to, while his pointer finger rubbed perfect circles on your sensitive nub. A subtle burn caught your throat when he finally bottomed out entirely. He was so girthy it’s hard to situate yourself around him. It even managed to prick a tear out the corner of your eyes.

“Beggin’ me to fuck you good. Teasin’ me like a brat. You’re really somethin’, ain’t ya?”

He rasped in your ear as he inched even closer. His hips snapped just at the right moment and with the perfect altitude to get you trembling. You reached out to hold onto the collar of his flannel. It became your only lifeline as he implored even further, pulling out then immediately filling you up like you’re some sort of pastry. An avalanche tumbling down within your lower abdomen. The pleasure was from another kind of heaven. The kind that could only be brought out by a man who’s dangling in weighty sins.

“Gonna be the end of me.”

To be filled to the very brim made you lose your head. Everything was starting to melt off, your common sense and your previous anger of his audacious lies. It all disappeared at every thrust, every time his lengthy cock disappeared inside your pretty cunt, everything seemed to feel alright. Everything was bright and pristine. He was a good man and so was you. Your eyes flickered, rotating between the sheen appearing on his wrinkled forehead and where his shaft was swallowed by you.

“I’m sorry for being an asshole.”

You knew this was coming. He’s always asking for forgiveness whenever he’s seven inches buried within you. Perhaps that’s exactly what made him an asshole.

“Joel- Just-”

All the words you’ve assigned were scrambled once more when it reached the tip of your tongue.

“I’m sorry for lyin’.”

He whispered out faintly. Was that his version of ‘I love you’? Your hazed mind couldn’t know for certain, but all you knew was that it was sincere from the depth of his heart. You could always tell when he’s being vulnerable and when he’s patching up those brick walls again. He was here right now, in the moment, and entirely euphoric at the way your cunt pulsed around him.

“More, Joel. More!”

“More what?”

“More of your c- cock.”

Joel filled you up so good. It was torture the way he always kept you at bay, but right now all you could think of was how no one could fill you up this way. Even when he’s cruel and distant, even when he occasionally declines your request to remove his clothes and let you see him whole, even when he lies, you are always going to be there. No one could ever fuck you the way he would.

“Where do ya want me, darling?”

He prompted as if you still have the right mind to answer. You were pulsing without end, rocking through the orgasm that’s just edging to come by. 

“Inside. Inside, please, please, please.”

You chanted without end. All throughout your eventful high, thighs jittering and rocking into his every movement as a particularly loud moan echoed around the room. He granted your wishes kindly; injecting you with what he’s been withholding all week, white painting your insides like it was some sort of high-end abstract art. You heaved at the feeling, extremely pleased.

“Fuck, sweetheart.”

He greeted your freshly drugged out mind sweetly. It was then that you hear the last two whirring noises consecutively. One of a close-up shot of your fucked up hole oozing his own dose of cum, and another a pretty shot of your dazed expression. Joel quietly thought that it’d be the perfect accessory for his damn wallet.

[alexanderwales]

There's something really intoxicating about fantasy stories where someone gets told that the thing they thought was wrong with them their whole life is actually because they have some secret heritage and/or enemy.

I keep imagining a story where someone with All the Problems keeps getting more and different layers pulled back.

"You have thought that you were anxious this entire time?" laughed the psychic. "That was only your latent precognition. Once you have studied, you will be able to harness that power, to direct the future, to become more powerful than before."

"Ah," said the wizard a week later. "You thought that it was depression, but it was latent mana pressing down on you, begging to be used. When you cast your first spell, you will feel the symptoms of mana flow immediately fade away."

"That feeling of not fitting in?" asked the horned demigod. "My boy, you are the child of gods. And not even second-rate gods, two of the good ones."

And it's just a parade of time travelers and aliens and werewolves who explain why you're Like That, and how it's actually just you being awesome and special, destined for some higher purpose.

I think that I could absolutely write the start of a book like that, where someone has all their problems solved in rapid succession because they're Special, but I don't know where I would go from there, because the fantasy is being handed the keys to the kingdom and being told that nothing was ever your fault, that you are in fact brave and strong for having lived under conditions that would have made a lesser person buckle. Everything after that moment is just this hollow fantasy of normalcy and/or power that you could get from any book.