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#How Long Did It Take For Your Ex To Come Back
in-class-daydreams · 2 days
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Imaging you and ex-husband Gojo getting into an ugly fight for one of the first times since the initial divorce.
"Does your little boyfriend know you kissed me?" he asks lowly.
Your living room was not the ideal place to get into spats like this, but you'd rather here than either school where eavesdroppers can spread your business all over the place.
"He doesn't, actually!" You turn and stalk towards the kitchen, calling over your shoulder, "He's not my boyfriend, so it doesn't matter."
Satoru and his ridiculous long legs easily keep up with you. "Is that how that works?"
You turn to face him, only to bump right into his chest. When did he get that close?
Jabbing a finger into his chest, you say, "If, by some insane lapse in judgement, I kissed you while I had a boyfriend, I'd own it and come clean. It's called 'communication,' Satoru, look it up." Again, you turn to make your way into another room, eager to be away from him, but he grabs you by the wrist.
"I hate when you do that! You say some pain in the ass thing, then you try to walk away! You do it every time," he gripes. "And what would you tell him, huh?"
"I'd tell him your fucking lips were dry!" you snap. "And that it was a mistake."
Satoru grabs you by the face with one hand, squishing your cheeks together and forcing you to look at him. With one flick of his finger, he uses his technique to force his blindfold off. You're left looking into his crystal blue eyes that make you feel like a teenager again.
"You still love me," he tells you.
"I don't."
"I can tell. You look at me the same way you always have."
"No."
"Say it!"
"Fuck off!" You turn and bite his hand hard. He yelps and recoils. His fault for always letting you through his infinity. "You want me to love you, Satoru?" you shout. "You wanna act like you've changed?"
Memories of him walking into the restaurant with another woman on his arm flash in your mind. Holding back tears, you continue, "Maybe you have. But you changed for other women instead of me, so why should I give a damn about what you want?"
Satoru always blamed himself for the divorce, as much as you tried in the past to reassure him that there were a dozen factors working against you. He's done his best to take what you've said in the end days of your marriage to heart and become a better man. Communicating with dates, being better about speaking his true thoughts, all of it was an attempt to be the type of man you wanted to be married to. For you to imply that all that was too little, too late cut him deeper than you could ever know.
And so, in a stroke of pure idiocy, Satoru reaches out, cups your face, and kisses you like he'd never get to again.
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Heehoo
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itneverendshere · 24 hours
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ex!reader who loves the game and wants to support her team but hockey captain!rafe is on the ice. he thinks she’s there for him but when she comes in with a date? and when they get put on the kiss cam? rafe slams into the glass to scare them? hate sex????
someone who lets you break them twice - hockey!toxic!rafe x ex!reader (+18)
warnings: veryyy long and 99% smut🙂‍↕️ the things i do for you...
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The cold air inside the rink always made your skin tingle. Your breath curled in front of you like smoke as you moved uncomfortably on the bleachers, pulling your jacket tighter around you. This is why you hated fall. It was too cold to be outside, too early to be winter. But tonight wasn’t about the weather—it was about hockey.
Hockey and, well, the fact that you hadn’t missed a game since… well, since Rafe and you broke up.
“Everything okay?” The voice beside you pulled you back to reality.
Elijah, the guy you’d been seeing for the past couple of weeks, smiled at you, oblivious to the bullshit taking over your mind, and you gave him your best smile back.
“Yeah, just cold,” you said, trying to focus. You weren’t here for Rafe, not anymore. You loved hockey. You loved watching the boys skate across the ice, their power and grace.
Or at least that was what you kept telling yourself.
Elijah wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer to him, and you leaned in, feeling his warmth. The game was just about to start, and the arena lights dimmed slightly, casting shadows over the rink. The roar of the crowd drowned your thoughts for a moment as the players took the ice.
And then, as if the universe was personally trying to screw with you, you saw him.
Rafe.
Of course, he looked good.
God, why did he always have to look so fucking good? His broad shoulders filling out his number 17 jersey, that stupid confident smirk as he skated out with the rest of the team. His dark blonde hair peeked out from under his helmet He was captain this year, and it made sense—he’d been working his ass off since…ever. You couldn’t think of anyone more deserving than him. 
He always had to be in charge, on and off the ice.
He still had that same cocky swagger that made you wanna scream… for entirely different reasons now.
You knew better than to be here, yet somehow you ended up courtside anyway. Probably because you’d never let him run you out of your favorite game. Not even if he was captain now. This was your team, the one you’d been coming to see since before Rafe even knew what a slapshot was.
You sank further into Elijah’s side, forcing your eyes away from your ex. But it wasn’t until you caught the dark blue of the jersey you were wearing in the corner of your eye that you realized… You’d put on Rafe’s jersey. 
His number. The one you’d always worn to support him when you were together. Out of all the team merch you owned, of course you had to wear his.
“You really like hockey a lot, huh?” Elijah asked, glancing down at your jersey.
“Yeah,” You mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’ve been following the team for a while.”
Lies. You loved hockey, sure. But you loved Rafe a little more. Or, you used to. Or, well, maybe that was still complicated.
The puck dropped, and the game started. For a while, you tried to focus on the action. Rafe was all over the ice, playing like the goddamn superstar he thought he was. You couldn’t help but notice how his gaze kept darting up toward the stands, like he knew you were there. And maybe he did
Halfway through the second period, he slammed into an opposing player, sending him crashing into the boards. The sound echoed through the arena, and the crowd went wild, but you could feel your stomach knotting up. That had always been Rafe—intense, aggressive, unable to hold back. On the ice or off.
You tried to focus on Elijah, laughing at something he was saying, but your heart wasn’t in it. And then, just when you thought you’d survived the worst of it, the kiss cam flashed up on the big screen. Your laughter died in your throat as you realized what was happening, your face heating up instantly. You weren’t exactly embarrassed, but this was... awkward. 
“Aw, how cute,” He said, grinning as he pointed to the screen.
You followed his gaze, heart dropping. They were zooming in on the two of you. You could feel the crowd around you start to cheer and whistle as Elijah leaned in closer, clearly getting ready to kiss you.
You could see him coming toward you, could see his lips getting closer, but all you could think about was—
Bang!
In the span of a second, a body slammed into the boards right in front you, the sound so loud it made you jump. The entire section gasped, and you turned your head just in time to see Rafe standing there, glaring up at you from behind the glass. His eyes were locked on you, jaw clenched.
He looked like he was ready to tear Elijah apart, or you, or both of you. His chest was heaving, eyes blazing, standing mere inches away from where you sat. He had skated right into the glass.
Your heart was practically in your throat, and it wasn't from Elijah being close. The look on Rafe’s face as he stood on the other side of the glass?
That was what had your pulse racing. You could barely focus on Elijah anymore. The way he laughed, oblivious, made your stomach churn because Rafe—Rafe—was staring like he owned you. He always had this way of making you feel like no matter what, no matter who else was around, you were his. 
And you hated that you still kind of liked it.
Then, still staring at you, he mouthed the words, "I dare you."
Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?
Those stupid words. Silently mouthed, but somehow loud enough to hit you like a punch through the glass. I dare you. God, what was wrong with him? He knew exactly how to push your buttons. And of course, it was working. He wasn’t just playing hockey—he was playing with you.
You could feel Elijah shifting next to you, still oblivious to the whole freaking drama unfolding right in front of him.
He was so sweet, too sweet, and it was almost infuriating right now because Rafe was standing there, with his stupid intense eyes, all but daring you to move on. Why did he have to look at you like that—like he knew you were still his.
The breakup had been brutal, the kind of messy, loud explosion where neither of you were willing to be the first to walk away. You were both too stubborn, too prideful. And now here you were, months later, still dealing with the fallout. 
Elijah finally leaned in, lips brushing yours, and you kissed him, but your heart wasn’t in it. All you could feel was Rafe’s stare burning into you. The kiss cam lingered for a few seconds, and the crowd cheered, but all you felt was... empty.
When the kiss ended, you forced a smile at Elijah, but your mind was a mess. Rafe’s eyes were still on you, and you could practically feel anger radiating off him, even through the thick glass.
You glanced down, avoiding his gaze, and tugged at the hem of his old jersey, suddenly feeling like you didn’t belong in it anymore. You leaned into Elijah, mostly out of spite at this point. You could practically hear Rafe’s teeth grinding from across the glass. Good. If he thought he could just walk around, acting like he owned the place—and you—then he deserved to stew in it a little.
But, of course, he wasn’t the kind of guy to just let something like that go. You watched as he skated back into play, but his eyes kept flicking up to where you sat, like he couldn’t stop checking to make sure you were still there. Still with Elijah. His shoulders were tense, movements a little too aggressive, like he was about to snap.
You tried to focus on the game again, but your mind kept drifting back to him. You hated this. You hated that he could still make you feel this way, even now, after everything.
After the fights, after the breakup, after swearing you were over him. Why was it so hard to let him go?
The third period started, and Rafe was everywhere, throwing his weight around like he had something to prove. And maybe he did. Every hit was harder, every pass sharper. It was like he was playing angry. And you couldn’t help but feel a little satisfied, knowing you’d gotten under his skin.
But then, with less than five minutes left in the game, things escalated. He slammed into one of the opposing players so hard that the guy went down, and the whistle blew immediately. The crowd was roaring, but Rafe didn’t back off. He stood over the guy, glaring down at him like he was ready to throw a punch.
"Jesus," Elijah muttered beside you. "What the hell’s his problem?"
You didn’t answer. You knew exactly what his problem was.
The ref skated over, shouting something at Rafe, but his eyes weren’t on the ref. They were still on you, even as the other guy on the ice slowly got back to his feet. The arena was buzzing, the crowd getting rowdy, and for a second, you thought Rafe was going to lose it right there. His fists clenched, jaw set—he looked like he was ready to drop gloves and start swinging.
And then he smirked.
It was that same cocky smirk you knew so well, the one he always flashed right before doing something reckless. The ref sent him to the penalty box, and he skated off, still with that fucking look plastered on his face. Your heart was racing, your body tense. Elijah had leaned back in his seat, totally unaware about everything.
“Man, that guy’s intense,” Elijah said, shaking his head, eyes still on the ice.
You didn’t answer. Intense didn’t even begin to cover it.
Rafe was sitting in the penalty box now, helmet off, running a hand through his hair like he didn’t just about murder a guy on the ice. You could feel his eyes on you, even from all the way across the rink. You hated it. You hated that he could still get to you like this.
The last few minutes of the game passed in an instant. You weren’t really paying attention anymore, not to the score, not to the plays. You were too busy trying not to think about Rafe, about the way he had looked at you. About the way it had made you feel.
When the final buzzer sounded, the crowd erupted in cheers. Elijah stood up, stretching, turning to you with a smile.
“Ready to head out?” he asked.
You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, let’s go.”
As you made your way toward the exit, weaving through the crowd, you could feel the tension building in your chest. It wasn’t over. It never really was with Rafe.
And you knew—somehow—you weren’t getting out of here without seeing him again.
You reached the bottom of the stands, where a crowd had gathered near the exit. Elijah was still chatting about the game, still clueless. But you were distracted, scanning the crowd without even realizing it.
And then you saw him. Of course, you did.
Rafe was leaning against the wall, still in his gear, helmet tucked under his arm. His eyes locked on yours the second you stepped into his line of sight. He didn’t even pretend to care about the people around him—his gaze was dark, intense, like a predator waiting for its moment.
You hated how your heart skipped.
Elijah noticed you freeze and followed your gaze, his smile faltering when he saw Rafe standing there.
"Isn’t that the captain guy?" he asked, glancing between you and Rafe, confused.
You swallowed hard, forcing your feet to keep moving. “Yeah. That’s him.”
As you passed by, Rafe pushed off the wall, stepping right into your path. Elijah, sweet, unsuspecting Elijah, paused beside you.
"Leaving already?" Rafe’s voice was low, casual, but his eyes were locked on yours, ignoring Elijah completely. "Didn’t even stick around to congratulate the team?"
You clenched your jaw, fighting to keep your cool. "It’s late, Rafe. We’re heading out."
But he wasn’t letting you off that easy. He took a step closer, his towering frame making Elijah shift uncomfortably. "You didn’t used to leave so soon," he said, voice dripping with that familiar cockiness. "Used to be the last one out."
Because you’d always let him fuck you in the locker room.
Elijah cleared his throat, trying to stand his ground. "Uh, yeah, we’ve got plans after this."
Rafe’s eyes flicked to him for the briefest second, before landing back on you.
"Plans, huh?"
Your pulse was hammering, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. Why did he always have to do this—why couldn’t he just let you go?
“Rafe, we’re done,” you said through gritted teeth, trying to hold on to the last shred of your composure. “You don’t get to pull this shit anymore.”
He glanced at Elijah briefly, his gaze cold and dismissive, then back at you. “You sure about that?” he asked, “Because it doesn’t look like it.”
You clenched your fists, nails biting into your palms as you tried to calm yourself. You didn’t need this right now. Not with Elijah here. Not after everything.
“Let’s go Elijah,” you said, tugging at Elijah’s arm, desperate to get out of there before things escalated. But Rafe wasn’t having it.
He stepped in front of you again, blocking your path like he had some kind of claim on you. And God, the worst part was—you weren’t sure he was wrong.
You glanced at Elijah, who was staring at the two of you like he had walked into the middle of a conversation he couldn’t quite follow. “Look, dude,” he started, awkwardly laughing, “I don’t know what this is, but—”
“It’s nothing,” you cut him off quickly, your voice tight. “Let’s just go.”
But Rafe wasn’t about to let it go. 
“Yeah, Elijah,” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “It’s nothing.” His eyes flicked to you, dark and daring, and before you could stop yourself, you met his gaze with the same fire.
Elijah’s phone buzzed, and he pulled it out, frowning.
“Shit,” he muttered, distracted. “I’ve gotta take this call real quick. Give me a sec?” He stepped away, leaving you and Rafe standing there in the middle of the hallway, your body practically vibrating.
He was on you in an instant, grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward the locker room door. 
“Rafe, what the fuck—” you hissed, but he wasn’t letting go.
You tried to resist, but something inside you broke down—the anger, the unresolved pull between you two. And maybe it was the way he still had that stupid hold on you, the way your body responded when you shouldn’t want it to.
Or maybe it was the fact that you’d never fully closed the door on Rafe.
He shoved the door open, pulling you inside the dimly lit hallway that led to the locker room. The second the door closed, you spun around, shoving him in the chest hard. 
“You’re such a fucking asshole, you know that?”
Rafe barely flinched, his gaze smoldering as he crowded you against the wall. 
“Yeah? You didn’t seem to think so when you were wearing my jersey tonight.”
“That was an accident.”
“Bullshit,” he growled, leaning in closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating off his body. “You knew exactly what you were doing. Bringing a date with you. Do you want me to kill someone?"
Your heart was pounding, and not just because Rafe had you pinned against the wall like he always fucking did— God, why did he have to be so damn close? The scent of his cologne mixed with the sweat from the game, sending your mind spiraling. He was overwhelming, and you hated it. You hated him for still making you feel like this.
“Get off me,” you snapped, but it came out weaker than you intended. The way his blue eyes were boring into yours, like he could see through all your bullshit, wasn’t helping.
Rafe’s smirk didn’t falter. If anything, it grew.
“C’mon, baby, don’t act like this wasn’t what you wanted. You show up, wearin’ my number, sitting there with some random guy like I don’t still own you.” 
He stepped closer, caging you in completely. You pressed your hands against his chest, but it wasn’t like you were really pushing him away. And he knew it.
“You don’t own shit,” you spat, glaring up at him. But even as the words left your mouth, you knew you didn’t believe them. The truth was, part of you had always been his.
Rafe’s lips curved into a smug grin as if he could read every thought running through your head.
“Really? ’Cause from where I’m standin’, you’ve been thinkin’ about me all night.” His breath was hot on your skin, and you hated how much you wanted to close the distance between you.
Your jaw clenched as you tried to muster the strength to tell him to fuck off, to leave you alone, but he was right. As much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise, he was still in your head, under your skin. The way his body hovered over yours—it was like nothing had changed. Like you hadn’t spent the last few months trying to forget him.
His hand found your hip, fingers pressing into your skin through your jeans, and you felt your body betray you. You cursed yourself silently as heat pooled low in your stomach. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, didn’t want him to know how much power he still had. But damn it, he knew. He always fucking knew.
“I hate you,” you muttered. It was a weak defense, and you both knew it.
Rafe leaned in, lips brushing against your ear. “Yeah?” His voice was a low rasp that made your knees weak. “Funny, you never sound like you hate me when you’re under me.”
Your breath hitched, and you swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened.
“Don’t—”
But he was already kissing you, hard and rough like he owned you, like you were his and his alone.
And the worst part? You kissed him back. His hands were on you, grabbing at your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together. You wanted to shove him away, to slap that stupid look off his face—but your body had other plans. 
This was so wrong, on so many levels. 
You broke the kiss, gasping for air, but Rafe didn’t back off. He was staring down at you like you were his next meal, like he’d been starving without you.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” you bit out, trying to cling to some sense of control.
Rafe’s grin widened, wicked and knowing. He leaned in again, lips ghosting over yours. “We both know that's a lie.”
You clenched your fists, frustrated beyond belief. Frustrated at him, at yourself, at how easy it was for him to pull you right back in.
“Fuck you,” you hissed, but the breathless tone in your voice told a different story.
Rafe’s eyes darkened, the corner of his mouth lifting in that infuriatingly sexy way he always did.
“Oh, you will.”
And God help you—you knew he was right. That fucking arrogance. It crawled under your skin, set your blood on fire in ways it shouldn’t.
You wanted to punch him, shove him, do something to wipe that smug expression off his face. But instead, you grabbed his shirt, pulling him back toward you, kissing him with all the fury you felt.
His lips crushed against yours, and it wasn’t gentle—there was nothing soft or sweet about this. It was all heat and frustration, months of unresolved anger bursting out in one chaotic, messy kiss.
His tongue slipped past your lips, and you bit down, hard, just to remind him you weren’t going to make this easy. He groaned, low and rough, pulling back just enough to look at you, his gaze dark. "You always did like it rough."
Your fingers tangled in his hair, and you yanked him down, kissing him like you needed to get all of this out of your system. His hands roamed your body, possessive, rough, and you hated how much you craved him, like you were still his.
You weren’t his. You couldn’t be.
But every heated breath you took, every desperate movement your body made, was telling you otherwise.
When his lips moved down your neck, teeth grazing your skin, you gasped, tilting your head back as your resolve crumbled to pieces. He knew exactly what to do, how to make you fall apart, and it pissed you off that he still had that power.
His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you with ease, pressing you harder against the wall. Your breath hitched, the cold tile behind you making you gasp. His mouth was on you, hot and demanding, and for a moment, it was like nothing else mattered.
Not Elijah, not the fact that this was so damn wrong, not the months of hurt and anger you’d been holding onto.
There was only Rafe. The way he touched you, the way he kissed you like he was trying to stake his claim all over again. Like you hadn’t been apart at all.
"Tell me you don’t want this," Rafe muttered against your lips.
You bit down on your lip, trying to stop the words from spilling out. You did want this. You hated that you did, but fuck, you couldn’t lie—not to him, not to yourself.
“I—” You choked on the words, eyes meeting his, and for a split second, you thought maybe you’d find some kind of resolve, some way to pull yourself back from him.
But he wasn’t having it. His grip tightened, his mouth capturing yours again in a kiss so raw, it was borderline filthy. And that was it. Your last piece of control vanished, and you were lost in him all over again.
“Fuck,” you gasped, head spinning as his hands explored your body like he had every right to. Like you hadn’t spent months trying to break free of him.
Rafe pulled back just enough to smirk down at you, breathless and flushed. “Yeah, baby. That's what I thought."
His hands gripped your ass hard enough to leave bruises, you let out a frustrated, muffled groan, your fingers still tangled in his hair. It was a lot longer than the last time you’d seen him.
You could feel every inch of his muscle through the thin fabric of your shirt. It was suffocating in the best way, and you hated yourself for how much you wanted it.
How much you wanted him.
“You’re such an ass,” you gasped between kisses, your breath hitching when his mouth moved down to your neck. You felt him grin against your skin, the bastard.
“You say that like it’s supposed to stop you.” His voice was rough, low in your ear, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “But I don’t think it is.”
You were about to fire back, but his hands slid under your shirt, fingers grazing your skin, and whatever you were going to say was swallowed by the heat rushing through you. You hated that he still knew exactly how to get to you—how to pull you apart and leave you helpless against him.
“Rafe, this—” Your words were cut off when he bit down gently on your collarbone, sending a shockwave through your body. You clutched at his shirt.
“This what?” he taunted, pulling back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes intense. “This a mistake? Because I don’t think that’s what your body’s saying.”
You just glared up at him, trying to catch your breath. You hated that he was right. Again.
Always.
“I told you,” you managed to say, though your voice was shaky, “this doesn’t mean anything.”
Rafe’s grip on you tightened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing yours as he whispered, “You’re still here, aren’t you?”
Your heart was racing, and you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin. There was no denying it—you were here, and you weren’t leaving. Not yet.
Maybe not for a while.
And Rafe knew it.
His hands moved lower, fingers grazing the waistband of your jeans, and your breath hitched. This was dangerous territory. You knew that. 
“Last chance,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours. “You want me to stop?”
You should’ve said yes. You should’ve shoved him away and walked out of there with what little dignity you had left. But instead, you kissed him again—harder this time, angrier, like you needed to prove something to yourself. And maybe you did.
He yanked your shirt over your head in one rough motion, and you weren’t gentle either, tugging at his jersey until it was off and tossed aside. His hands were everywhere—on your back, in your hair, slipping under the waistband of your jeans, pulling them down with the same reckless urgency you’d been feeling since you laid eyes on him tonight.
“I hate you,” you whispered as your nails dragged down his chest, leaving angry red lines in their wake.
Rafe just laughed, “No, you don’t,” he growled, his hands grabbing your hips as he settled you onto one of the locker room benches. “But keep telling yourself that.”
Your jeans hit the floor, and he wasted no time, his hands gripping your thighs as he positioned himself between your legs, pressing you down on the bench, his body heavy against yours.
Everything was messy, and rushed, like neither of you could get enough. Like you were trying to erase the months of distance, of frustration, in the way you kissed him back, bit his lip, tugged at his hair.
 You hated how much you needed this. 
“Still think this doesn’t mean anything?” Rafe rasped, his voice hoarse as he pressed his forehead against yours, breathless and wild.
You could barely think, let alone speak, but somehow, you managed to gasp out, “Positive.”
Rafe’s mouth moved down your neck, biting and sucking, leaving marks you knew would still be there tomorrow. “You’re such a fucking liar.”
It was wrong, it was toxic, but fuck—there was something about the way he touched you. And body, traitorous and weak, responded like it always had.
You were furious with yourself, with him, with everything, but the anger only made it all hotter, more intense.
His fingers brushed against the seam of your panties, teasing, barely touching you, but doing enough to have you drenched. 
“You’re soaked,” he murmured, almost amused, slipping one finger under the fabric to run along your folds, barely dipping inside before pulling back out, "Was this all for Elijah?"
Sonofabitch.
“Stop talking,” you spat, but your voice was shaky, showing him the way you were falling apart under his touch. Rafe chuckled low in his throat, his finger moving back, this time slipping inside you, deep and slow.
You gasped, your head falling back as he began moving his finger, curling it inside you in just the right way. Your body responded immediately, hips jerking against him, desperate for more, but he took his time. He added another finger, stretching you out as his thumb rubbed slow circles over your clit, making your legs tremble beneath him.
He sped up, his fingers thrusting deeper, faster, hitting that spot inside you that made your mind go blank. “You’ve been wanting this, haven’t you? All those nights pretending you don’t think about me, but look at you now.”
Your nails dug into his shoulders, legs shaking as you felt yourself teetering on the edge, his fingers driving you closer and closer to the orgasm you so desperately needed.
His thumb pressed harder against your clit, sending shocks of pleasure through you. “Tell me how bad you need this.”
“Rafe—” you gasped, your hips bucking wildly against his hand. The tension inside you was coiled so tightly, so close to snapping. You hated him, hated yourself, but the words slipped out anyway. “I need it.”
He groaned, pleased, and that was all it took. He thrust his fingers harder, faster, until your body gave in completely. You hadn’t had a proper orgasm in months. Nothing could get you off properly. Your walls clenched around his fingers the pleasure tore through you. You cried out, your nails leaving half-moon marks in his skin as you trembled beneath him, lost in the sensation.
But he didn’t stop. He slowed down just enough to draw out every last bit of pleasure, his fingers still moving inside you as you rode out the aftershocks. When you finally caught your breath, he pulled his fingers out, his hand moving to cup your jaw, forcing you to look at him.
He shoved his pants down, not bothering to take them off completely, just enough to free himself. Your breath hitched when you felt him against you—hard, hot, and ready—and every rational thought you had left disappeared in that moment. He lined himself up, teasing you just enough to drive you crazy.
Before you could respond, he pushed into you in one hard, deliberate thrust. Your gasp turned into a low, breathless moan as your back arched, your hands gripping his shoulders for something to hold on to. The sensation of him stretching you, filling you, was overwhelming, almost too much, but exactly what you needed.
Rafe didn’t give you time to adjust. He pulled back and slammed into you again, setting a punishing rhythm that left you breathless, gasping for air. 
There was nothing gentle about it, nothing tender.
His hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he fucked you like he was trying to remind you who you belonged to.
And you hated how good it felt.
“You’re mine,” Rafe growled, his voice rough as he thrust into you, each movement deep and brutal.“Doesn’t matter who you’re with, doesn’t matter how much you try to deny it—you’ll always come back to me.”
“Shut up,” you hissed, but your body was betraying you as you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. 
He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “Tell me you haven’t been thinking about this every night since we ended.”
You couldn’t.
The words were right there, on the tip of your tongue, but instead, a moan escaped your lips as he hit that perfect spot inside you. Your body arched against his, and you cursed yourself for being so weak.
“Fuck,” you gasped, eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure built, every nerve in your body on fire.
“That’s what I thought,” Rafe growled, his pace quickening, the force of his thrusts making the bench creak beneath you.
The sound of the bench, the way his body pressed into yours so perfectly, the heat of his breath against your neck—it all made it impossible to think straight. You should have been disgusted with yourself for letting it get this far, for letting him have this kind of control over you. 
“I fucking hate you,” you managed to gasp out between breaths.
Rafe chuckled, “Yeah? Then why do you sound like that, huh?” His voice was taunting, filled with the arrogance you hated, “This pussy still mine, huh?”
You loved the way he grabbed you like you were his, even though you’d sworn, sworn, you were done with him.
You were still in love, weren’t you? Even after all the shit, all the screaming matches, the nights spent crying because of him. That was the part that pissed you off the most.
Before you knew, his hands were flipping you over so fast your knees hit the bench before you could react.
“Rafe—mmh,” you gasped, but your words died in your throat when he shoved you forward, pressing your chest flat against the cold wood of the bench. You barely had a second to brace yourself before his hands were gripping your ass, spreading you open for him.
He didn’t give you time to catch your breath. He was already dragging the head of his cock through your wetness, teasing, knowing how much you wanted it, even if you wouldn’t say it.
You squirmed, hating how desperate you felt, hating how your body responded to him like this. “Fuck, Rafe, stop teasing—”
“You want more?” he cut you off, voice dark and dripping with arrogance. He slapped your ass, just enough to sting, and you yelped, your back arching instinctively. “You’re gonna have to beg for it.”
"Like hell," you spat back.
He leaned forward, his chest pressing against your back, his mouth right by your ear.
 “You can act tough all you want, but I know how much you want this,” he gritted out, his cock sliding against your folds again, torturously slow. “I know how much you need it.”
Before you could snap back, he thrust into you hard, filling you completely in one brutal stroke. You cried out, hands gripping the edges of the bench, and Rafe didn’t even give you a second to adjust. He pulled out almost all the way before slamming back in, faster this time, deeper.
The angle had you seeing stars. The bench was narrow, forcing your legs closer together, making everything tighter, more intense. You couldn’t stop the way your body responded to him, hips moving back to meet his thrusts even though your mind was screaming at you to get a grip.
His hands gripped the fat of your ass, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust, and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small room, mixing with your moans and his ragged breathing.
“God, you feel so fucking good,” Rafe groaned, his voice low and rough as he thrust into you, each movement hitting that perfect spot inside you, making your legs tremble. “So fucking tight for me.”
He pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles that had you on the edge in seconds. You couldn’t stop the moan that ripped from your throat, your hips bucking wildly against him as the pleasure built, higher and higher until you felt like you might break apart.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” He rasped, his voice thick with lust. “I can feel it. Fuck.”
You tried to hold on, tried to keep some control, but it was useless. He knew exactly how to break you.
“I’m gonna come,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a whimper as you felt the pleasure rising fast, threatening to consume you.
“Do it,” Rafe growled, his fingers rubbing harder, faster. “Come for me, baby.”
And you did.
Your orgasm crashed over you so hard your vision blurred, your body shaking as the pleasure tore through you. You cried out, your walls clenching around him, and Rafe groaned, his grip on you tightening as he fucked you through it, relentless, brutal, until your entire body was trembling.
But he wasn’t done.
He pulled out suddenly, and before you could catch your breath, he yanked you up, turning you around. You barely had time to register what was happening before he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the cold locker. His cock was back inside you in seconds, filling you again, and you moaned, the new angle sending jolts of pleasure through your already overstimulated pussy.
He pounded into you, his grip on your ass bruising, and you clung to him, nails digging into his broad shoulders as he fucked you against the lockers. The sound of metal creaking under the force of his thrusts only made it hotter, more desperate. You could feel another orgasm building, and you hated him for it—hated how easily he could pull them from you. 
“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice rough as he buried his face in your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin. “You’ll always be mine.”
And you hated that some twisted part of you wanted it to be true.
Your legs tightened around him, pulling him impossibly closer, deeper, as if you couldn’t get enough of him.
And God, you couldn’t.
His grip on your ass was rough, bruising, but it only made you moan louder. You were on the verge again—your body still tingling from the last orgasm, but the way he moved inside you, the way his teeth grazed your neck, it had you spiraling toward another one, faster than you thought possible.
“Look at you,” Rafe groaned, lifting his head just enough to lock eyes with you. His pupils were blown wide with lust, a wild look on his face that sent a thrill down your spine. “Fuck, you love this, don’t you?”
You did. Because no matter how much you hated him, how much you wanted to hate him—there was a part of you that still belonged to him. A part of you that couldn’t walk away.
His lips were everywhere—on your neck, your collarbone, your jaw—and you couldn’t stop the sounds escaping your throat as he kept driving into you.
“Say it,” he growled, “Say you’re mine.”
You bit down on your lip, trying to hold it in, trying to fight back, but every nerve in your body was betraying you. The way his body fit against yours, the way he moved inside you, it was all too much. You were coming again, and you hated it.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and wild. “Say it.”
You wanted to spit in his face. But your body was telling a different story, hips bucking against him, legs tightening around his waist again.
“R-Rafe,” you whimpered, hating how weak you sounded, how desperate.
His smirk was infuriating, but fuck, it was hot.
“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his pace quickening, each thrust deeper than the last. “You’re mine. Always have been.”
And then he slammed into you one last time, hitting that perfect spot inside you, and the orgasm tore through you, leaving you gasping and trembling in his arms. You cried out, head thrown back against the lockers as your body shook with the force of it, your nails raking down his back.
Rafe groaned, his grip on you tightening as he rode out your orgasm, his movements growing sloppier, more erratic. His forehead pressed against yours, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
“Fuck, baby,” he moaned, his hips jerking against yours as he finally let go, his release hitting hard. You felt the warmth of him spill inside you, as he held you against him, buried deep.
The second his breathing slowed and his grip on you loosened, reality came crashing back in. 
What the fuck had you done?
You pushed at his chest, trying to put some space between you, but he wasn’t letting go that easily. His arms stayed wrapped around you, his body pressed against yours like he still had something to prove.
“Get off,” you muttered, your voice weak, but sharper than before.
He chuckled, that low, arrogant sound that drove you crazy. “That’s not what you were saying five minutes ago.”
You shot him a glare, shoving at his chest again, harder this time. “I’m serious, Rafe. Move.”
Reluctantly, he let go, stepping back just enough for you to slide off the locker and onto shaky legs. You stumbled a bit, and Rafe’s hand shot out to steady you, but you jerked away from him, pulling your jeans back up with shaky hands.
He leaned against the locker, smirking like he hadn’t just torn your world apart all over again. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
You wanted to scream at him, to throw something at his face. But instead, you grabbed your shirt off the floor, yanking it over your head as you tried to steady your breath.
“Good luck finding your date.”
Elijah. You’d come to the game with Elijah.
You shook your head as you zipped up your jeans and ran your fingers through your hair, trying to look somewhat presentable. You avoided looking at him, knowing that if you did, you’d see the smug satisfaction on his face that would only make you feel worse.
He pushed himself off the locker and took a step closer to you. You flinched, stepping back instinctively. “This can’t happen again.”
His smirk slipped for a moment as he looked at you. H e closed the distance between you in two strides, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist, pulling you toward him before you could react, “You’re choosing him?”
You yanked your wrist out of his grip, your heart racing as you forced yourself to take a step back, putting distance between the two of you, “You’re the one who chose yourself.”
His eyes darkened, searching your face, like he couldn’t believe what you’d just said. Maybe he thought he still had you wrapped around his finger.
“You’re the one who walked away,” you added, hating how your voice trembled, “So don’t act like I owe you anything.”
Rafe’s hand hovered like he was about to reach for you again, but he didn’t. “That’s not how I remember it.” 
Your stomach twisted, “I’m not doing this anymore. I can’t—” You glanced at the door, feeling the weight of Elijah waiting for you. The one person who was good for you, who actually wanted to be with you.
But the worst part? You were still thinking about Rafe. Even after everything, you were still here, breathless, a mess because of him.
He took a step closer, his eyes locked on yours, and for a second, you thought he might apologize. Maybe say something real. But Rafe Cameron didn’t do apologies. 
He raised an eyebrow, “Really?” His hand lifted, brushing a strand of hair out of your face in a gesture that was far too intimate, given everything that had just happened. “Then why are you still standing here?”
You flinched, stepping back. Why were you still standing there? You had no good answer, at least not one you were ready to admit.
“Go back to your date,” Rafe continued, his voice mocking now, “Pretend like he’s enough for you.”
You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to keep the tears at bay. You couldn’t give him that satisfaction, not again. “You’re wrong.”
Rafe let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “I don’t think I am.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, throat tight, trying to push back the tears. This was all wrong. It was always wrong with Rafe, “Stop.”
It sounded like a plea—a plea for him to stop talking, stop looking at you like that, stop making you feel so small and yet so overwhelmed all at once.
Rafe sighed, stepping back just a fraction, and for a second, his gaze lifted. But it wasn’t enough. It never was. “I’m not trying to hurt you,” he said, his voice softer now, like that made a difference.
“You always do,” you shot back, finally meeting his eyes. The truth slipped out before you could stop it, and there it was.
His jaw clenched, "I don’t mean to," he muttered, his voice low. "You know that."
"Does it even matter?" You felt the bitterness rise in your throat, along with something else—something fragile and painful. "You still do it. Whether you mean to or not."
Rafe stayed quiet, and you hated that silence. He didn’t have an answer. He never did, not for this. Your fingers fumbled with the zipper of your jacket, something to keep your hands busy so you wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t say something you’d regret. But regret was already everywhere, suffocating you both.
“I thought we were past this,” you said finally, barely more than a whisper. “I thought I was past this.” But clearly, you weren’t. Clearly, some part of you was still here, with him, in the wreckage you’d both created.
He ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated, torn. “It’s not that simple.”
"It should be." Your voice cracked. You hated how much this hurt. How much he could still hurt you.
It wasn’t fair. You weren’t supposed to still care this much. You weren’t supposed to still feel this.
Rafe sighed, taking another step back, giving you space. But it wasn’t the kind of space you wanted. It wasn’t the kind that would make things easier. “I don’t know what you want from me,” he admitted quietly, his eyes searching yours for something he couldn’t find.
You swallowed, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe. "I don’t want anything from you." 
That was the truth, or at least it was supposed to be. You didn’t want anything he had to offer, not anymore. Not when every time you reached for it, it slipped through your fingers like water, leaving you emptier than before.
But there was still that ache, that feeling between you two, the one that dragged you back here even when you knew better. You wished you could kill it, cut it out of you like some infected part, but it was tangled too deep. And maybe a small part of you didn’t want to.
“You keep saying that,” he murmured, his voice almost tender, like he was seeing right through you. “But you’re still here.”
“I don’t know why,” you whispered, blinking back tears. Fuck, you hated this. Hated how vulnerable you felt, how easily he could unravel you, even now. “I shouldn’t be.”
He didn’t say anything, just stood there, watching you, like he was waiting for you to make the next move. Like he wanted you to figure it out on your own.
But you didn’t know how. You never did when it came to him.
"I’m sorry," he said, and this time, it felt real. There was no arrogance. Just Rafe, standing there, as broken as you felt. "I don’t know how to fix this."
You let out a bitter laugh, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “There’s nothing left to fix, Rafe. We’ve already destroyed it.”
His face twisted, like he didn’t want to believe it. Like he was still holding onto some small piece of hope. "We could—"
"No," you cut him off, shaking your head. "We can’t."
You couldn’t keep doing this. The push and pull, the endless cycle of hurt and apologies that never really fixed anything. You couldn’t keep pretending that something would change, that he would change.
Because you both knew he wouldn’t.
He took a breath, exhaling slowly, and you could see it—the realization sinking in. 
He knew it too. "I never wanted to lose you," he admitted quietly.
You swallowed hard, your chest tight. "You already did."
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joelslastofus · 2 days
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[SUMMARY: Trigger warning. Joel triggers your PTSD when you see him drunk for the first time causing you to have flashbacks of your abusive ex.]
Mentions of DV
“You weren’t suppose to see this, baby” he stumbled in your direction.
Joel knew how you felt about alcohol, he knew the hell you had gone through with your ex boyfriend because of it. Having known him for a year, you and him both traveled alone surviving together. Never had you seen Joel intoxicated, neither of you had come across liquor during your journey and when you did Joel ignored it out of respect for you. Of course, Joel missed the alcohol helping him somewhat sleep at night yet he never mentioned it.
Tonight the two of you had gotten lucky, after being on your feet for nine hours walking through the woods you both came across a cabin that looked as if it had been abandoned for a while now. After making sure it was empty you both claimed it as your own, at least until you had to keep moving again.
“Oh it’s nice to finally have a bed tonight” you looking at the bed at the other end of the room. Joel smirked as he looked around, peaking through the cabinets where he found two full bottles of whiskey. God it had been so long since Joel had a taste, the only thing that numbed him entirely, he craved just a glass.
“What cha find?” You asked as you began to unpack your bag. Joel quickly closing the door and clearing his throat as he moved along.
“Nothin’ uh, a few cans of food and towels” Joel knowing damn well it was nothing to mention.
“Good, I’m hungry” you spoke excitedly as Joel grabbed the cans to sit at the table.
Joel and you lay on the couch, your body slouched against his for a moment as his hand brushed through your hair.
“Oh I’d love to be able to just watch a movie now, have some popcorn” you sighed, the thought making Joel slightly smile.
“What movie would we watch?” He asked curiously.
“Hmmm…I don’t know, how about a romantic comedy?” You winked at him as he playfully shook his head rubbing his eyes.
“Oh baby, I’d watch anything with you” he whispered looking down at you before kissing you softly.
“Who knows, we probably wouldn’t even watch anything” he chuckled as you playfully shoved him.
“We should get sleep” your lips brushing against his as you spoke. He nodded before you pushed yourself up and walked to the bed.
“Are you coming?” You yawned as you dusted the bed off a bit and pulled back the covers.
“Yeah, I’ll be there in a few” he called out to you before looking back at the cabinet that held the two bottles of whiskey. Too exhausted to wait, your eyes closed and you fell right to sleep.
Once Joel was sure that you were asleep, quietly he got up and stopped right at the cabinet. Looking back at you he reached for the first bottle, slowly opening it up. Without thought Joel began to drink savoring the taste he hadn’t had in so long, wiping his lips feeling the burn in his chest.
“Fuck” It’s just what he needed after not being able to sleep properly in weeks.
Closing his eyes in relief he took another chug before taking the bottle back with him to the couch. Within fourty minutes he was half way through, slowly getting to the bottom. The buzz creeping up on him as he leaned his head back and took a deep breath.
Joel began slowly walking around the cabin, reading some of the frames on the wall when he began to stumble. Reaching for a frame Joel accidentally knocked it to the ground causing you to wake up.
“Joel?”
“Shit” he whispered.
Rubbing your eyes you go out of bed to see Joel across the room.
“You ok?” He turned to you revealing the half empty open bottle in his hand, that’s when you looked at his face and realized he didn’t look like the Joel you knew.
“Didn’t mean to…wake ya..” he whispered as he noticed the way you stared at the bottle in his hand.
“Where’d you get that?” You asked softly as Joel took a deep breath with regret.
“You…-“ he began to walk towards you.
“You weren’t suppose to see this, baby” he stumbled in your direction.
“Maybe you should….lay down” you spoke nervously as he stopped right before you.
“Shit baby, I fucked up..” he whispered. The smell of alcohol making your stomach turn, the memories of the nightmare you lived with your ex boyfriend now coming back to you. Your heart racing as you felt a panic you never thought you would feel again.
“You’re mad at me, ain’t cha?” He couldn’t hold himself still as he stood before you, you took a step back feeling the wall behind you as you slowly shook your head. Mad wasn’t the word as your nerves took over. You trusted Joel yet seeing him in a way you never had…seeing him in a way your ex had his violent outbursts, you were terrified.
“Don’t be…mad at…..me, baby. Ima make this..right” he slurred.
You watched as he dangled the half empty bottle around before closing the top in a clumsy manner and placing the bottle on the table beside him.
“There” he placed his hands up showing you he was done. As drunk as he was he could see the fear in your eyes.
“Please don’t be mad at me-“ he unexpectedly reached for you causing you to step back against the wall harder than you meant to.
“I ain’t gonna hurt cha” his eyes desperate for you to trust him. Yet, his words only seemed to make it worse. It was something your ex would love to say just before he actually would hurt you.
“Fuck” Joel shoved the chair beside him causing you to jump.
“Stop it! Just stop!” You felt yourself begin to lose any control you thought you had.
“Baby-“
“Just go lay down! Go to sleep!” You couldn’t even look him in the eye. All you wanted desperately was for him to get away from you. Joel stood silent as he took a step back and did as you asked. Quietly going to the bed he lay down and let you be.
As soon as he walked away you began to silently hyperventilate. Squeezing your eyes shut you tried to fight off the memories, the trauma…you tried to fight the fear.
You knew you would no longer be able to properly sleep that night. Joel was out in a matter of minutes while you sat up on the couch watching him. Your eyes feeling heavy, it was getting harder to stay awake until eventually you fell asleep.
After a few hours Joel began to wake up. With a slight headache he slowly pushed himself up with a groan before looking up and noticing the bottle of whiskey sitting on the counter. Quickly he looked around the room to find you sitting on the couch asleep facing him.
“Shit” he whispered to himself brushing his hand through his hair. Bits and pieces of the night before flashed in his mind, one thing he couldn’t stop picturing was how afraid you seemed of him.
Joel stood up walking towards you, he could tell you didn’t mean to fall asleep. You seemed cold and so he grabbed a blanket from the bed and slowly placed it on you. The feel of the blanket covering you causing you to slowly open your eyes and when you did, you jumped not expecting to see Joel standing over you.
“It’s me-“ he tried to assure you.
“It’s me, baby I’m sober, I ain’t drinkin’ I promise” it took a moment for you to realize he actually was sober. There was the Joel you knew staring down at you with concern. Staying silent for a moment you looked around a bit confused, you hadn’t even realized you fell asleep, let alone for how long. You looked at him quietly as you slowly sat up and took a deep breath.
“You-“
“I know” he quickly spoke as he stood up straight.
“I’ve never seen you like that before” you whispered.
“and I….I thought about Cameron and-“ he noticed you begin to slightly tremble.
“I just didn’t know what you were capable of” you blurt out as you held back your tears.
“Scared the hell out of me” Joel brushed his hand over his lips before quickly getting down on one knee.
“Look at me” he spoke low looking directly into your eyes.
“I would never do anything to hurt you. Ever. You understand that?” He was serious. He meant every word he said.
“I wish I could find the prick that did this to you, I guarantee you he’d never have a drink again” you quietly nodded yet he could still see you trembling. It was getting harder for you to control.
“Hey” he placed his index finger beneath your chin and tilted your head up.
“I ain’t gonna drink again alright? I should’ve never done that” he whispered. You let out a breath of relief and threw your arms around him pulling him in. Joel held you hold close and kissed your forehead.
“Come on, get into bed with me, baby” he slowly lifted you up and carried you to the bed. You watched as he walked to the counter and poured the left over liquor down the drain. As much as Joel loved a drink, your peace of mind was more important to him. Throwing the bottle out the window he walked back to you and lay beside you pulling you close as you fell asleep..
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wooziorgans · 3 days
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moon song || ljh
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warnings: post breakup au. ex idol!reader. reader has an implied suicide attempt(s) in the past. reader is implied to do something akin to relapsing at the end of the fic. ed talk. lots of pressure that comes w being an idol. clubs. drinking. seungcheol hates y/n for leaving. leaving the idol industry behind. seeing your ex after four years. hurt w very little comfort. right person, wrong time.
word count: 4.2k
a/n: vent piece mostly. abt my frustration of still being sick, abt my frustration of not seeming to get better, abt how it never seems to stop. abt all of my wasted potential as a person. all of it, none of it, everything and nothing at all. i am so tired.
please read with caution. this is just a lot of emotions all in one place.
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The loud bass that hits your head as soon as you enter the club makes your head pound immediately. It’s been four long years since you’ve even been in this part of Seoul, let alone been in a club with this group of ex-colleagues.
Ex-colleagues is certainly one way to put it. They were all so much more, and you know that this is just an excuse for all of them to get drunk. You wonder briefly if Jihoon’s here. He never used to drink, but then again, he didn’t do a lot of things until you were in the picture. You wonder how much has changed now that you’re not.
The memory of him burns like a hot iron branding your back, and you head to the nearest table of refreshments to grab a drink. If he’s here, you’ll need all the alcohol you can get your hands on. Maybe that makes you no better than anyone else; no better than the scene you so desperately needed to leave four years ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.
You’re no longer apart of it. What you do now won’t cost you your career. If the night ends with you passed out in an alley way simply because you saw your ex at an album release party for an album he produced, so be it. He never comes to these things anyways.
At least, he didn’t when you knew him. You haven’t known Jihoon for a long time. It’s been four years after all; a lot can change in a week, let alone four years.
Like your decision to leave the K-pop industry. You had mulled over it for weeks, before you brought it up to anyone, and you didn’t go to Jihoon first. He was the last person you told. At least, officially, that you were leaving.
All those years of work as a trainee, just for it to be nothing. All of the tears, the angry screams into your pillow, the poverty your company forced you into in the first few years of your career because it was boarding on bankruptcy. All of this wasted potential. Maybe you could’ve been someone great.
You were, for a few years. Your group took off, and the first few years of success made all of the hard work feel like it was worth something. But as the saying goes, too much of a good thing won’t be good for long.
The pressure started to build, and it built until it boiled over and you were found on the verge of doing something terrible in your bathroom by your boyfriend and your manager after a week of unusual silence. Jihoon never was a crier, but god did he sob as he held you in the back of the ambulance. He had never begged for anything the way he begged for you to talk to him.
Please, god, please talk to me Y/N. Please, baby. I can’t— I can’t lose you.
It’s funny, really, how things work out. You dug yourself so deep into this hole of despair from the pressure of being an idol, that the only way out of it was to completely separate yourself from that life and start over.
After terminating your contract, you broke up with Jihoon. Or, you didn’t break up with him, only told him that you needed to take a break while you sorted yourself out. After being on a break for four years, is it still just a break? Or are you broken up at that point?
Both you and Jihoon know the answer to that.
Three years of no social media, no articles about you, none of your old friends reaching out to check in on you because they held a contractual obligation to be nice to you in the hallways. Three and a half years out of the spotlight. Three and a half years of peace, of healing, of sorting your life out and learning how to breathe again.
It’s been four years without Jihoon, and you didn’t really think much about the consequences that potentially sharing a space with him would have. But now they’re suffocating. All you can think about is the potential possibility of him being here, which, he wouldn’t be, right? He hates these kinds of gatherings. He used to skip his own release parties to watch shitty romance movies with you on the couch in his studio.
Does he have someone new to watch romance movies with? Or has he given up romance altogether? You know from the first few months, updates provided by Soonyoung, that he didn’t take the distance very well. You know that he missed you, and he worried about you constantly. You know you’re spiralling, and you know all those years of therapy will be for nothing if you don’t pull yourself out of it.
You don’t have to do that, because Seungkwan does it for you. “Y/N? You came!” He seems elated that you’re here, off his rocker, probably drunk.
“Of course I came! It’s your first album as BSS, Seungkwan.” You smile, and it’s not forced at all. You have completely forgotten how easy it is to fall into banter with Seungkwan. It’s almost like you never left in the first place.
Except something in his eyes seems off. That’s your first red flag to turn around and get the fuck out of this club, but you don’t. “My god. It’s been so long. How are you doing?” With anyone else, the small talk would’ve taken you out back and killed you. It’s different with Seungkwan.
Different how? He was one of the only people who consistently checked in on you when you first left. As you settled into your new life, the texts became less frequent; now, four years later they’re hardly anything to notice, but he’ll still send you a text on every holiday, and he’s wished you happy birthday every year since you met him.
“I’m doing a lot better. I’m… I’m good.” You laugh softly. Seungkwan smiles at you.
“That’s good. I’ve missed having you around— of course I don’t expect you to come back into this scene, but it would be nice to see you sometime.” Seungkwan squeezes your shoulder softly and smiles wider.
“Yeah, of course. I know I’ve been gone, but I’ll make it less hard to get a hold of me. I’ve missed all of you, truth be told.” You smile back. “I’ve just… been doing a lot of healing and I think it’s about time I finally start reconnecting with people. Is everyone here?” You ask.
“Oh, yeah. We’re all here! I kind of spilled that I invited you so everyone decided to come just in case you showed up.” The depth of all doesn’t really seem to cross Seungkwan’s mind; he’s certainly not thinking about Jihoon right now, or Seungcheol for that matter. You’re pretty sure Seungcheol would punch you if he caught sight of you. Maybe Jihoon would too. You have no idea how Jihoon even feels about you.
“Even, uh, Jihoon?” The smile falls from Seungkwan’s face.
“Oh. Yeah. He’s here too.” Seungkwan swallows when he sees your face shift. “You… he-he wants to talk to you. It’s not my place to really say, but he’s not mad. I think he just wants closure.”
So maybe Jihoon wouldn’t punch you. That’s a bit of a relief.
“Oh my god! Y/N! You came!” It’s Seokmin, very clearly drunk. You didn’t keep in contact with him, though he did send you a few paragraphs over text as he wished you all the best, telling you to reach out if you ever needed anything. You didn’t take him up on the offer.
“I did!” You smile, tilting your head as you look up at Seokmin.
“Can I have a hug?” He’s already opening his arms and you slide right into them. His hug is firm and warm. You’ve missed Seokmin a lot more than you cared to admit. Seungkwan grumbles about how he should’ve asked for a hug and you laugh, pulling him into one.
You catch up with Seokmin briefly before he’s being pulled away by someone you don’t know. You stick with Seungkwan, talking about your life, the album, avoiding the subject of Jihoon.
And then you turn your head at the bright sound of laughter, and you see him. You see him, and he’s not the same mess he was when you left him with no promise of when you’d see each other next. He’s not the scared man in his early twenties who had no idea if you were going to die on him. He’s not the man who stayed with you in the hospital for days on end.
He’s not the producer you knew who’d slide his headphones over your ears as he pulled you into his lap. He’s not the warm hand that held yours because you forgot your gloves again. He’s not the hushed giggles at four in the morning, or the hurried kisses, or the soft whimpers and praises as you tangled yourselves in his bedsheets.
Jihoon isn’t yours anymore.
You had hoped he wouldn’t be such a sore subject for you anymore, but seeing him in all of his glory four years later… god does it fucking hurt. You’ve done a lot of healing in the last four years, but in that time you never really had the time to process the loss of Jihoon.
Soonyoung spots you, and that’s when you know you’re doomed, because if Soonyoung is distracted, Jihoon always notices the thing that catches him off guard. You try to pull your eyes away from Jihoon, but you can’t. You swear he’s gotten more beautiful in the last four years.
He’s gotten bigger, physically— far more muscular. You can see the curve of his pecks through his shirt, one that isn’t even tight against his body. Jihoon’s always been a big fitness buff, but it appears he’s put more effort into himself. His biceps strain against the fitted sleeves of his long sleeve black shirt.
Jihoon’s face looks different too. He still has the same round cheeks you used to always pinch and prod at. His jawline is still soft, but it’s more defined. His eyes are bright, and the bags under them are still there. You wonder briefly if he’s ever gotten rid of them; if the skin under his eyes has ever matched the rest of his milky complexion.
His hair is longer than you’ve ever seen it. Dark and flowy, it’s reflective and healthy, half tied up with what would be his undercut hanging freely. A few pieces frame his face. It looks soft and healthy. Jihoon looks soft and healthy.
He’s smiling as he scans the crowd to find what Soonyoung is distracted by, and then he spots you. The smile is wiped off of Jihoon’s face faster than your brain can even register it. Seungkwan stiffens beside you, hand finding your shoulder to steady you as you stumble briefly, but the pull between you and Jihoon is too much.
Both of you start moving towards each other, pushing your way through the crowd. “Y/N.” His voice comes out in a breath, chest heaving and then he’s there, right in front of you, after four years.
You don’t know what to say, can’t process the fact that he’s in front of you, as beautiful as ever. “Jihoon,” you echo, “hi.” You can’t help the small smile that threatens to pull at your lips. The tension on Jihoon’s face eases, but he doesn’t smile back.
“Hi. How are you doing?” Jihoon asks, and if it was anyone else, it would’ve been a sad attempt at small talk. It’s Jihoon, so you know he’s asking how you’re doing now, if you’re better. A part of him is asking if you still feel like killing yourself. The answer to the last part is no.
“I’m… better. A lot better.” You laugh awkwardly. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t doing okay.” Now, Jihoon actually does smile at you, and though it’s small, it’s still there.
“You look a lot better. Healthier. I’m glad.” Jihoon takes a sip of his drink as he looks down at you. He’s right; you’re much healthier now. There’s solid meat on your bones, your thighs touch and your ribs don’t show anymore. Your face has filled out, cheeks full and round. Your eyes don’t look as though they’re sunken into your skull, they’re brighter now; they seem to shine with life in a way they never have before.
Jihoon takes you in properly, and god, you’ve gotten so much more beautiful since the last time he saw you. It hurts. It hurts a lot to see how good you look now, without him. He knows it’s a lot more complicated than that, but it still hurts nonetheless.
You look healthy, like an actual person and not a skeleton, and you were never that way when you were an idol. You were never like that when you were with Jihoon.
“Oh, um, thank you. Should we… should we sit? We have a lot to talk about.” You laugh again to hide your nerves. Jihoon can still read you, and he knows you’re brimming with nerves. He knows you’re a little scared, probably more than a little, and he is too.
You’ve never breached the subject, hardly even talked about your breakup. Jihoon doesn’t like to think about it. He just doesn’t. He doesn’t like to think about how much worse you were doing, even if it destroyed him. The breakup was harder on you, tenfold, and you went through it alone.
“I- uh. Yeah, yeah, we can go sit. It’s probably about time we talk.” Jihoon laughs nervously, closing his eyes for a second. He wordlessly starts walking towards the vacant booths of the club. You follow close behind.
Jihoon sits down, and you take a seat across from him. It’s silent for a few moments. Both of you are staring at your cups, not drinking, just swirling your liquids of choice.
Jihoon speaks first, but he can’t look at you. “Why’d you have to leave me?” He asks, and his voice breaks softly as he says it. You certainly weren’t expecting that as the first question he asked, but you don’t really know what else he would’ve asked.
“I… I had to leave everything that had to do with being an idol behind. You… you included.” It’s a shitty answer, but you can’t think in Jihoon’s presence.
“I understand that, but I would’ve been there for you. I would’ve helped you get help. You didn’t have to do it by yourself, Y/N. I loved you; I would’ve done anything to make sure you were safe.” Jihoon’s bites at his lip, eyes sparkling in the low lights of the club. He looks like he’s about to cry, and god does it break your heart.
He loved you, past tense. It’s jarring. It stings, but what else did you expect? For him to still want you? That’s unrealistic and completely unfair to expect from him.
It hits you then that you might still be in love with him. That makes this next part so much harder.
“I know. I know, but it made sense to me at the time. I can’t- I can’t rationalize anything that I did at that time in my life. None of it makes sense, but I made a lot of choices that I regret and I can’t go back on them now. It’s too late for that and I’m- I’m so sorry for everything I put you through, Jihoon. All of it; everything, god, I’m so sorry.” You spill, and the soft burn in the back of your throat makes it hard to speak as you try not to cry. “You didn’t deserve to deal with any of it.” You whisper softly.
“Y/N,” Jihoon whispers back, “I forgave you a long time ago. I just want closure.” Closure. Jihoon wants closure, meaning he wants to move on. The tears in his eyes shine brightly, though they don’t fall, but he’s crying nonetheless, and that makes you feel worse.
“I don’t deserve that though. I don’t deserve to be forgiven for just leaving you. Seungcheol still hasn’t forgiven me; why the hell would you?” You swallow hard, and that seems to break the dam as the first few tears slip down your cheeks.
“Seungcheol has his own issues. We never told him the full story, and maybe that’s why he’s still… iffy about the whole thing. But I forgive you. I just, I want to stop hiding from you. I don’t want to be worried about running into you somewhere and not knowing what to say. I still care about you, so much, and, god does it fucking kill me to still worry about you when you’ve never made an effort to reach out to me.” Jihoon’s always been blunt, so you should’ve expected this, but it makes you feel worse; guilty. “I would’ve answered your calls, in a heartbeat. You know I would’ve.” Jihoon blinks, and the first few tears fall down his face.
“I couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to call you after so long. I spent six months in and out of the hospital, and after that I had to get back on my feet. By the time I even had time to think about calling you, it’d been a year, and to me that was too late.” You close your eyes and exhale deeply, fingers twitching.
Jihoon used to hold your hands when you were upset to stop them from twitching so much. He used to pull your head close to his chest and wipe your tears with the pads of his thumbs. He makes no effort to do so now. Jihoon can’t even look at you properly.
He’s focused on picking at the calluses on his palms. Some things never change.
“You- six months? Y/N, fuck, I had no idea. I knew it was bad but, shit, really?” Jihoon’s voice breaks fully, and all you can do is nod. “How many more times? How many times did you—?” He can’t finish his sentence. His throat closes up.
“Four.” Jihoon has nothing to say in reply. He can’t, not with the deep hurt that settles in his chest, so you elaborate. “I really just wanted to die. The media was on my ass for the first year and it was just bad. I spent the next year after that in a rehabilitation program to fix my relationship with food and it helped a lot. I found a good therapist and I’m still seeing her. It’s helped a lot. I’m- I’m clean.” You pick up your cup, hand shaking, and take a large drink to calm your nerves.
“I’m really glad that you’re healthy now. Really, god, that’s such a relief.” Jihoon’s tears are steady now. He wipes at them with his sleeve. You mutter a soft thank you.
Outside of the booth, the noise has been blocked out by your conversation, but you hear something peculiar. It’s Seungcheol, his voice is loud and booming. He’s angry.
“What the fuck are they doing here?! Seriously, why did you even invite them?” Both you and Jihoon look up at the same time to see Joshua and Mingyu trying to deescalate the situation. Seungkwan is yelling back, face red as he tries to block Seungcheol’s view of the booth you and Jihoon are sat in.
“No, I’ve fucking had it with all of you. Defending them for just fucking leaving Jihoon without a word. What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you bring them here?” Seungcheol is drunk and looking for a confrontation with you, and that’s enough of a threat to have you and Jihoon standing as he tries to usher you out of the club without Seungcheol seeing.
“Fuck, you should probably go.” Jihoon pulls you close to him, shielding you from Seungcheol’s view. You nod, walking fast beside him as you push your way through the crowd.
“Yah! You, get the fuck back here!” Neither of you listen as you push your way out of the door. You make the mistake of looking behind you to see Joshua and Mingyu physically holding Seungcheol back. Wonwoo is there now too, standing in front of him to prevent him from walking.
The outside air is cold and bitter. You shiver as you pull out your phone to order a ride. You and Jihoon are completely silent. He’s standing so close to you that you can feel his body heat radiating off onto you.
“I’ll wait with you. How long?” He asks, voice shaky.
“Two minutes.” You only have two minutes left with Jihoon. It’s so finite, the time you’re spending with him. If only you had more time.
You’re not afforded that luxury as you shiver beside him. “Can I- is it okay if I—?” You nod, unsure of what he’s asking. It’s a yes either way. Jihoon pulls you into his arms in a tight, warm hug. His hands don’t find their way into your hair, or rub your back. He just holds you. It’s all he can do.
Both of you ignore the mutual swell of warmth in your chests. You’re still in love with him, you know that, and that’s why the car seems to show up in no time. Your phone chimes as the car pulls up in front of the club as you reluctantly start to separate yourselves.
There’s so much you didn’t get to talk about. You tell him so. “We, fuck, I had so much more to say. I had so much more to explain. You, god, you were the right person, Jihoon. Everything else was just so wrong.” You thought the weight would’ve been lifted off your chest, but it only hurts more. You close your eyes as you turn away.
“Y/N, fuck, don’t do this to me right now.” Jihoon whispers, eyes filling with tears once again.
“I’m sorry Jihoon. I love you. I’ll see you around.” You open the door to the car.
“I, yeah. Take care of yourself.” Jihoon can’t look at you, no way in hell can he look at you as you close the door and drive off. He stands still in the cold, watching as the car disappears from his sight. He leans against the wall, head falling back as the tears start pouring freely.
As he pushes the door to the club open, it hits him hard, fills his whole body as a bone deep love for you settles. And it hurts, god does it hurt. Seungcheol’s calmed down, but the snide remark that slips past his lip doesn’t even register in Jihoon’s brain. All Jihoon recognizes is his tone, and that’s enough.
“I’ll punch you right in your fucking mouth, Seungcheol, I swear to god. Shut the fuck up.” Jihoon hardly ever makes threats, but when he does it has everyone going quiet. Seungcheol, Joshua and Mingyu stop in their tracks. There’s been enough drama for one night.
Jihoon grabs a new drink and chugs it, before he goes to grab his coat. He needs to get out of here before the sob building in his throat bursts.
You manage to keep your tears at bay until you enter your apartment. You find yourself in the bathroom, against the cold tile and the porcelain of the bathtub. You don’t do anything, just sit there and breathe as the tears flow freely.
It wasn’t supposed to end like that. You were supposed to have more time to reconcile with Jihoon. You and bathrooms have seen a lot of hurt. Most of your bad decisions are made in bathrooms. You don’t do anything, you just sit there for a few minutes as you cry.
Nothing happens the next night. Or the night after. A week after the release party, Jihoon still plagues your mind and that’s when you crack. Your old manager turned friend answers the phone.
“Hi. You okay?” Yena asks softly, voice ridden with sleep.
“Drive me to the hospital? I think I need stitches.” You laugh nervously. The adrenaline has worn off and all you feel is regret.
“Y/N.” She sighs, but it’s not disappointment. She’s seen a lot of things with you, and supported you through all of them. You’re the reason she quit being a manager and went back to university. You made her realize the idol life isn’t as glamorous as it seems, and you’ve formed a very solid friendship over the past five years. “You know they’re gonna keep you for a few days, right?”
“Yeah. I know. It was impulsive. Like, I’m fine now. I just couldn’t stop thinking.” You sigh.
“Give me a few minutes and I’ll be on the way. Cold water and pressure until I get there, yeah?” You laugh softly.
“Already on it.” The call disconnects soon after, and you look up at the mirror. Briefly, you imagine Jihoon standing behind you in a much different situation than the one you’re in now.
His thick arms are wrapped around your waist, head leaning against yours. He’s smiling in your vision. You smile softly in your reflection, though it’s strained. The blood on your hands pulls you out of it.
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a/n: i wrote this when i was going through it. i’m fine now but i seriously can’t do angst like i used to so i might write a part two or something where they end up back together.
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mauvecherie-writes · 3 days
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the kaleidoscope theory: l.hamilton.
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• pairing: lewis hamilton x black!oc kalani halloway
• chapter warnings: none
• w.c: 3.8K
• ru’s 💌: First thing first, I want to apologise for how long it took to post this. With school and placement taking up a lot of my time, amongst other distractions and my mental health just not being the best for a while, writing has not been my main priority, and I am trying to make up for that now. Updates will be slow, but they won’t be non-existent. Please don’t forget to like, comment and re-blog.
• tip: kofi | paypal
series masterlist
CHAPTER ONE
PRESENT DAY
“ARE you sure that you want to keep doing this with him Lani? Like I love you and I’ll always be in your corner, but I have to agree with your therapist here. What are you gaining from continuing to sleep with Malik?”
The bluntness of the question almost knocked the wind out of Kalani’s lungs. Over the decades of their friendship, she had come to know that Julian did not pull any punches when it came to honesty. It should not have shocked her that her best friend would react like this to the revelation of such news. Maybe it was the exasperation and disappointment that she picked up in his tone that made Kalani want to shrivel into herself from shame.
“Lani!” His voice boomed through the car speaker, breaking her train of thought. “Are you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m still here.” She mumbled as her hands tightened around the stirring wheel.
“Well, are you going to answer my question or not?”
“It was a moment of weakness okay!” She exclaimed, finally admitting it to herself and to her best friend. “There was always an excuse to get me alone. To discuss the divorce or something about the kids. And he’d just … he would charm me, and I would be reminded of why I fell in love with him in the first place then I’d give in.”
“Tuh.” Julian scoffed. “Talk of the divorce like he’s not trying to distract you from the fact that he has not signed those papers.” He added, the truth causing her shoulder to sag as she leaned back into her seat.
“I know.”
“Baby, I’m not trying to make you upset —.” He sighed, speaking in a much tender tone. But it was too late. The shame that had been brewing in her stomach for so long had bubbled back up her throat.
“I just need you to really think about this. It has been two years since you have asked for the divorce, Malik keeps stalling signing the papers, under the guise of trying to make it work. But we all know that he is still with that bitch. Like he can’t have his cake and eat it too. He doesn’t have any regard for who he’s hurting and that is you and the kids. I need you to be better than your weakness for him. It’s not fair.”
His words were hurtful to hear but Kalani could not argue against them because she knew that they were true. That is why she had decided to begin therapy. She had not slept with Malik in over six months since she had started her therapy session. This round, Kalani had finally shared the truth that she had on tinted with intimacy with her ex-husband despite the separation.
“I KNOW.” Kalani sniffed as her tears threatened to spill over. The tremble in her voice could not be hidden and Julian picked up on it.
“Lani, listen-.”
“Hey, so um — I gotta go. I need to pick up Princess from my aunt’s place.” Kalani quickly spoke out as she rounded the corner into a residential street. “Talk later.”
She did not wait for him to respond as she ended the phone call. Kalani took a deep breath as she put the car into an empty parking spot. She continued to sulk in her seat as the heaviness in her chest had returned. Everything that Julian had said to her were all things that she knew and had known from the first time, she had slept with him after they split.
Stuck in the moment, every time they had done the deed had felt good. In some way, it had felt like she had been reclaiming her power. It felt good to know that in some way, her ex still wanted her. In Kalani’s need to be desired by the man that she was married to for nearly twenty years, she had momentarily lost herself and had forgotten what was important.
The happiness of her children.
So Kalani took in a deep breath and exhaled, wiped away her tears and re-applied her lip gloss. She practised her smile in the rear-view mirror until she was satisfied with a more approachable facial expression. She got out of her car and fixed the legs of her pantsuit before she walked a short distance on the pathway and onto the property.
It did not take any time from her opening the small front gate for the front door to be opened.
“Mummy!” The excited shriek of her young daughter sounded through the air as her little feet carried her as fast as they could towards her. Kalani immediately dent down to her level and opened her arms, waiting for her daughter. She dived into her arms and Kalani could just feel all of that heaviness began to lift away from her heart. As her daughter squeezed her little around her neck, Kalani immediately felt better.
“Hi, my Princess!” She smiled at Tiara. Princess’s little giggles were what she got in response as she pulled back to look into her mother’s eyes.
“I missed you so much, Mummy.”
“I missed you too! Did you enjoy school and time with Auntie Angie?”
“Mhm!” Tiara nodded her head as she played with Kalani’s earrings. “Today, I learnt what a doing word is! And then Auntie Angie baked me a banana cake.”
“The cake is for all of you, not just you baby.” Aunt Angela spoke from behind Tiara which caused Kalani to chuckle as a frown appeared on her little girl’s face.
“Emi doesn’t like banana cake as much as I do!” Tiara exclaimed.
“I know baby. But can we at least save a piece for brother first?”
“Okay.” Her small voice of defeat made Kalani’s heart swoon. She cradled her daughter’s head to her chest as she walked towards the door where Angela had been standing with Tiara’s belongings and the wrapped up banana cake.
“Hi sweetie.” Angela had greeted her as she awkwardly hugged Kalani.
“Hi Auntie.” She replied. It was like she could feel the love outpouring from the embrace. And it took all of her strength to not break down then and there.
“You okay?” Angela asked her. Kalani softly nodded her head, not trusting her words in that moment. She took a deep breath before offering a smile of re-assurance.
“Just need my baby.” Kalani replied. “Thank you for looking after her today.”
“You never have to thank me for that. I love Princess and I love spending time with her.”
After a couple of more minutes of casual conversation, Kalani and Tiara said their goodbyes and then left her aunt’s home. On the journey to pick up Emil, she sang along to the current kid bops that Tiara was currently enjoying. Her daughter filled the car with chatter about what her day at school was and repeated stories of previous adventures. Kalani did not mind at all. Hearing her daughter talk was far more enjoyable than being left with the chaos that was her thoughts.
~
When they had arrived at the local sports and leisure centre, Kalani noticed that by the outdoor astroturf, there was a larger crowd than there should be for a practice on an early Wednesday evening . She walked hand in hand with Tiara towards the grounds and smiled when she noticed the crowds full of young and old cheering on.
No matter how much Emil had tried to teach her, there were still aspects of the game of football that she would never understand. However, that never changed how much Kalani cheered on Emil and supported him. She knew that he had fallen in love with football due to Malik’s love for the sport, his passion came from within, and Emil had the talent to match. If Emil was willing to play, then Kalani was going to do everything that she could to make sure that he continued to play to his greatest heights.
From where Kalani stood, she could tell that it was an intense game for a practise but neither the Red nor Green sides seemed to care. When Emil touched the ball, he sprinted across the field with incredible of the ball and passing by the red players who were trying to defend. Emil then passed the ball to another green player who was open. This player then quickly shot the ball into the net, scoring the winning goal.
The crowd, including Kalani and Tiara cheered for the green shirts.
The game came to an end and with the crowds beginning to disperse, Tiara shot away from Kalani’s side and ran towards his older brother as she screamed his name. She smiled as she watched Emil pick up his little sister and throw her into the air, catch her and then spin her around.
As she proudly watched the moment, she caught a growing crowd from the corner of her eye. She noticed a man standing in the middle with the biggest smile on his face as he tried to greet every one that was surrounding him. That bright smile with the small tooth gap was the first thing that caught her attention. His twisted strands were in a ponytail, but his sides and beard were nicely trimmed in a way that brought attention to his chiselled facial features. Kalani’s eyes travelled to his large and muscular tatted arms that even with his bronzed, umber complexion, the design of the tattooed sleeves stood out. He was dressed simply, in a black, sleeveless knitted vest and what looked like black trousers. Kalani had spent too much time staring at him for her to notice that his jewellery was expensive and some of it was probably custom made.
As if picking up on her inquisitive eyes, the man looked up and stared right at her. She had never seen such an intense yet sincere pair of eyes that were the smoothest of chocolate brown. Kalani bit her lip in embarrassment at being caught looking when he smiled at her. She quickly averted her gaze to her children, who were walking towards her and tried not to think about why the stranger felt vaguely familiar.
“Hi Mum.” Emil greeted her as he placed Tiara down on her feet before reaching towards her and giving her a sideways hug. Kalani reciprocated the hg and patted his sweat drenched curls.
“Hi baby, you were great out there.” She complimented him which caused him to grin.
“Thank you.” He smiled at her.
“Any particular reason why you guys were playing like it was the finals of the Premier League?”
“Oh! The owner of the centre is here, and we just wanted to impress him I guess.”
“You were out there acting like he’s like a talent scout.” Kalani chuckled.
“He might as well be. He used to be a sportsperson, so he knows a lot of people.”
“Like Mbappa right?”
“Mbappé, Mum. Mbappé.” Emil corrected her with a roll to his eyes.
“Well, whatever his name is.” Kalani shrugged her shoulders and then picked Tiara into her arms. “Anyway, go get your stuff. We need to be home before 8:30.”
For a fraction of a moment, she saw her son’s gleeful demeanour slip. He nodded his head and then jogged away. Kalani watched as he stopped and talked to the same man that she had made eye contact with. The joy in his face was back once more and it eased the tension within her. She was sending them to their fathers’ for the weekend as she needed some time to herself to re-charge before she embarked on a large project at work.
However, Emil had made it abundantly clear that he wanted nothing to do with the man that he had once idolised. Emil confessed to enduring the visit for the sake of Tiara, who was still trying to adjust to the separation.
When he came back, they all hurdled into the car and they drove back home, not before stopping for a takeaway pizza collection.
After they had arrived back at their home, Kalani rushed her children to take their evening showers before preparing their bags.
Kalani stayed downstairs as she prepared their dinner. Alongside the pizza, she made a simple arugula salad with cherry tomatoes, feta cheese and a balsamic dressing. Once she had set the table and could finally take a sip of her white wine.
She dreaded the weekends when her children were away. Because it forced her to think. It forced her evaluate every single decision that led to this very moment that she was currently residing in.
Her hatred for Malik increased.
Memories of their past floated in front of her. Her and Malik dancing around the kitchen as they cooked whilst Emil set the kitchen table and Tiara narrating stories from her vivid imagination.
They were so happy.
They were so in love.
Where in the fuck did he ever find the time to cheat on her? She wondered.
That was a question that she never got an answer to. And it was a question, she was afraid of what the answer may be. It just was not something that she was ready to confront. Kalani was left to deal with all of that harbouring anger all alone.
“Mummy look! Me and Emi are matching!” Tiara rushed rushed down the stairs with Emil in tow. When Kalani turned her head towards their direction, a laughter full of elation burst from her when she noted that the duo were indeed matching. Tiara was dressed in a hot pink Nike tracksuit that was a contrast to Emil’s grey one.
“She wasn’t going to wear anything else.” Emil commented as they entered the large kitchen area, approaching the sink to wash their hands.
“That’s okay. Princess just wants to be like her big brother huh.” Kalani smiled as she smoothed her daughter’s hair.
“Yep!” Tiara gave them her dazzling smile. “Except, I don’t like football, and he doesn’t like banana cake!” The little girl stated before her focus shifted to the slices of banana cake on the table. “Ooouuu caaaakkee.”
“Not so fast, young lady!” Kalani spoke up which stopped Tiara in her tracks. “Can you eat some pizza first before the cake?”
“Okay, Mummy.” She pouted as she moved to sit down in her chair by the table. Emil shook his his head as he plated a slice of pizza for himself before sitting down.
They sat in silence as they ate their food, but Kalani could tell from her son’s solemn expression that something was bothering him.
“You okay baby?” She asked him as a worried expression marked her face.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” He offered her a smile that she didn’t believe.
“You sure? You know that you can always talk to me, right?”
“Yeah, I know. It’s just -.” Emil stopped talking before he let out a sigh. He then turned his attention to Tiara who was focused on trying to do a cheese pull. “I’m not ready to talk about it.” He concluded.
Kalani swallowed as she tried to not be disappointed with his response. Outside of the pure anger that was palpable whenever his father was mentioned, Emil had concealed his emotions about the divorce from her, always giving her that same answer of not being ready to talk. She had offered for him to go to therapy but he refused, saying that he did not need it.
“I caught him cheating Mum, not killing somebody.” He had said to her after the therapy suggestion. She dropped it then, however as her sessions continued, the more she wanted to push for Emil to go. But she was not going to force his hand. He’d go when he was ready.
“How’s this? When you come back, I’ll take the day off work and break you out of school and we do whatever you want. Just the two of us.”
“I’d like that.” Emil replied as a small smile returned to his face. Kalani reached over and softly pinched his cheek.
“That’s my boy.” She wicked at him.
They finished dinner in a much better mood with Emil updating her on his coming football schedule so that she could make time for it in her diary. And it wasn’t long after they had cleared the table did the doorbell ring.
Kalani glanced over to the clock on the wall. It was 8:40pm.
A cloud of tension suddenly covered the serenity of their home as she realised who was at the front door. Kalani looked at her son, who was already moving to collect Tiara from her position in her play area by the living room.
“Give me five minutes, I need to talk to your father about something.” She said to him. Emil nodded his head.
“Princess come on, gotta make sure that you have all of your toys ready.” He said before picking her up and giving her a piggy-back ride up the stairs which caused her to squeal with each step.
Kalani mentally prepared herself as she dried her hands with a hand towel before she headed to the door.
With one more pep talk, she swung the door open and met her ex-husband with a close-lipped smile with her body blocking the entrance.
Standing shy of 6 foot 2 inches with a rich, tawny complexion, a shaved head and trimmed goatee – Malik was a physically handsome man. At forty-three, he kept himself fit, had an impeccable wardrobe (that she introduced him to) and a gorgeous smile that her daughter inherited. Full lips with slick words that could charm the pants off a recluse. She would know, they’d been working on her for close to two decades.
“Hi Lani.” He smiled down at her.
“Hi Malik.” Her tone was curt, which caused his cheeky expression to slip by minor fraction, but she caught it.
“How are you?” He asked. “You look beautiful as ever.” He complimented her, trying to work his charm as he had done so many times before.
It wasn’t going to work this time.
“Thanks.” She narrowed her eyes before she moved to step outside. She drew the door close and left it slightly agar.
“I need to talk to talk to you about something.”
“Are the kids okay?” He worried.
“They’re as fine as they can be. But that’s not what I want to talk about.”
“Then what?”
“When are you going to sign the papers, Malik? You’ve been putting them off for far too long now.”
“What do you mean sign?” He frowned in confusion. “I thought that we were taking this time to figure things out.”
“What things?!” Kalani sternly exclaimed in a hushed voice. “You refused couple’s counselling. Emil doesn’t want therapy and wont talk to me about it. Tiara thinks you’re working on a big project at work because she doesn’t understand that we’re separated.” As the words spat out of her mouth, the angrier she became. “Let’s not fucking forget, that little girlfriend of yours is still around and you thought that I didn’t know about it.”
“She’s not Kalani!” Malik quickly tried to shut down her accusation.
“Oh please!” She scoffed as she looked at him up and down in disgust. “Her perfume is lingering on you right now. I should know, I was washing it off for years!” She hissed.
Kalani watched as Malik tried to sniff his clothes and that disgusted her even more as she could see the gears in his mind churning up an excuse.
“Listen, it’s not like that.” He began to say.
“I don’t give a shit what it’s like. I want those divorce paper signed and delivered to my office by Monday. If not then no more nice Kalani, I’ve put up with your shit for too long.”
Without giving Malik a chance to reply, she opened the door just as she picked up on the patter of feet rushing down the stairs. Tiara zoomed past her and dove into her father’s legs, hugging them.
“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” She chanted, bouncing with excitement. Malik picked her up into his arms and gave him one of his practised smiles as he peppered her face with kisses.
“My gorgeous girl! You’re getting so big!” He said which caused Tiara to grin.
“Look! My tooth fell out and the tooth fairy gave me one pound and Mummy told me to add it to my piggy bank!”
“Oh, that’s so awesome Princess!”
“When all my teeth fall out, I’m gonna be rich!”
“Oh, I bet!” Malik tickled her sides which caused another high-pitched squeal to leave Tiara. In all of her rage, it was the joy of her daughter that mattered to her. Emil trotted to her side, holding their weekend bags.
“You got everything baby?” She asked him. He nodded his head.
She hated having to send him with his father, but she did not trust Malik to care for Tiara without Emil’s assistance. She brought in her son for a tight hug and kissed the side of his head. “It’s just two days and you’ll be back.”
Emil sighed at those words before nodding his head. “Bye Mum.” He mumbled before he kissed her cheek and walked past Malik without acknowledging him. She could see that Malik was trying to not let that get to him but kept a brave face for Tiara. It may be horrible to admit but it felt nice to know that there was one more person who hated his guts the way she did.
‘Right, Princess, you’re going to be on our best behaviour for your father, okay?” Kalani said to Tiara.
“Mhm.” Tiara nodded her head before Kalani placed a kiss on her forehead.
“We’ll talk about what we talked about later.” Malik glared at her.
“Unless it’s about that signature, then we have nothing to talk about.” She glared back.
Kalani waved goodbye to her children as Malik drove away. Once she shut her front door, she let out the biggest sigh of relief as her body relaxed. She had not realised just how tense she had been in the minutes Malik was here.
It had felt like hours.
With her body on autopilot, Kalani finished cleaning up the kitchen and packing away Tiara’s toys before she grabbed her bottles of wine, forgoing the glass and dragged her body up the stairs to her bedroom. As she prepared for her evening bath, she put her favourite playlist on and danced to the music as she stripped down to her bathing suit.
Once her tub was full of hot water and bubbles, she sank down, laying down her head on the towel. She took a large gulp of her wine and get the bottle down.
With only the sultry voice of Sadé as solace, Kalani let her walls down and cried to her hearts content.
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reading list: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @saturnville @hopefulromantic1 @cocobutterqwueen @bluesole16 @chaneajoyyy @emjayewrites @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @sapphireheaven @olyvoyl @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @laneywrld @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy @bekindbecoolbeyou @greedyjudge2 @itsapurrfectstorm @createdbylivingclocks @omgsuperstarg @peyiswriting @miyuhpapayuh @blowmymbackout @purplelewlew @henneseyhoe @perfecttrashface @alianovnaromanovanatalia @leilaxaliel @hotfudgeslug @iamryanl @pickingupmymercedes @eleetalks @ambs-06 @annisassintchaska @boujiestpoet @nayaesworld @nat-lh-44
107 notes · View notes
hoonieyun · 2 days
Text
bright red
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bright red
pairing: lee heeseung x reader “y/n”
genre: angst into fluff 
warnings: mentions of drinking, heeseung is drunk lol, profanity but as always all my work is 18+
summary: ex!heeseung is too drunk to drive home so his friends ask you to come get him. too worried about his drunken state, you spend the night. 
notes: saw the photos/videos of heeseung getting really flushed at the prada after party and i just had to write something because it was so funnyyy also once again… not proofread heh
word count: 2801
you’re awoken by your phone ringing, rolling over in your bed to grab your phone and answer the call, you see jake’s contact appear. “hello?” you answer, voice a bit raspy. “heyy y/n! sorry i know it’s late but -” jake begins, “late? it’s 2am jake…” you interrupt. jake briefly chuckles before continuing.
“yeah haha, it is! look at you telling the time.” jake says, trying to lighten up the mood a bit. “jake, i’m hanging up.” you threaten and you hear him gasp. “okay okay! no don’t. um so… heeseung is drunk. like… really drunk. do you think you can get him?” jake asks with a pause in between each word in his question like he was cushioning the question. 
there’s a silence between the two of you on the phone. you were contemplating if this was a good idea. you and heeseung had broken up just 2 months ago and you hadn’t seen him since despite his endless attempts to call you or show up randomly unannounced at your front door. you never opened it, but you did watch him through your doorbell camera until he left. 
you sigh, “okay fine, text me the address.” you tell jake and you swore you could hear the rest of heeseung’s friends breathe a sigh of relief on the other end of the phone. “thank you y/n! you’re the best!” jake and all the guys thank you through the phone. 
you gather yourself a bit, tying your hair up out of your face as it had gotten messy from being asleep. you quickly grabbed a hoodie from the top of your hamper, slipped on some shoes, and made your way to the bar that heeseung and his friends were at. 
the streets were empty because of how late it was so it didn’t take long to get to the bar. before you knew it, you were pulling up to the curb of the bar, heeseung was knelt over the street as jay was rubbing his back. jake noticed your car pulling up and waved you over, a smile on his face as you arrived. 
“y/n! you actually came!” jake says. sunghoon nudges him in the arm with his elbow, “yeah…” you said just nodding your head. “what happened to him?” you asked, shaking your head. 
“well, you see heeseung joined us and said he wouldn’t drink at all tonight, fast forward like… 6 bottles. here we are.” jake explains, singing the last of his sentence while gesturing to heeseung like he was a prize you had just won. “plus, we would’ve taken him home but 4 bottles in all he could talk about was yo- ouch!” sunghoon nudges him again, this time a bit harder, interrupting want jake was saying. 
“what he MEANT to say was, all of us had a bit to drink and don’t think it’s responsible to drive. since we all live further away from heeseung, we thought we could ask you to take him home?” sunghoon explains and your eyes narrow at him. sunghoon and jake have a sheepish smile on their faces, hoping their explanation was enough to get by you. 
“why didn’t you just call him an uber?” you asks and before they could answer heeseung notices your attendance. “love?” he says, still knelt over on the floor. when you peek behind the two boys in front of you to look at heeseung his eyes go wide. he softly pushes jay away and runs towards you. stumbling a bit to get up, when he gets to you he softly grabs your face with both his hands, causing you to grab onto them. 
“are you real?” heeseung asks. “yeah… we should go.” you say, guiding him to your car. the guys rush over to help you, jake opening the passenger seat door so you could get heeseung in the car. “where are we going?” heeseung says in a whiny tone. “home.” you respond as you stretch over heeseung to buckle in his seatbelt. this was the closest in proximity the two of you had been in months. “you smell good.” heeseung says with a smile while staring at you. “and you smell like alcohol.” you say while shutting the door. 
“thanks guys, i’ll take him home.” you tell the three of them, bidding your goodbyes as they all make their way back inside the bar to grab their things. “hey y/n… thanks really. he hasn’t stopped talking about you all night. i know this is hard but… thanks.” jay says as you’re making your way to the driver’s seat. “goodnight jay.” you say before getting in. 
when you get into the driver’s seat, heeseung is staring at you. “when did you get here?” he says with a confused look on his face. “this isn’t my car” heeseung says with even more confusion. “yeah, it’s my car. jake called me to pick you up.” you explained while starting the car and beginning your drive to his apartment. “you’re the best girlfriend ever.” heeseung says before dozing off, not aware he had just called you girlfriend because of how drunk he is. “yeah…” you say quietly. 
the drive to heeseung’s apartment was a bit longer than the drive to the bar as he lived on the other side of town. you managed to get him out of your car and drag him up to his apartment. heeseung must’ve forgotten his keys with one of the guys but luckily when you two had broken up, he didn’t ask for his apartment key back. you fumbled with your keys as you tried to balance heeseung so he wouldn’t fall over, putting most of his weight on you. you eventually got the door open and the two of you stumbled in. his apartment hadn’t changed at all since the two of you broke up. 
you dropped heeseung on the couch with a thud, “ouch!” he said, finally waking up. you lock his door and look over to find him picking himself up and scratching his head. you softly apologize before going to his kitchen. when you return to the living room heeseung has already started changing out of his clothes, “here, drink some water while i grab you some clothes.” you hand him the glass and make your way to his room. upon entering his room, you were filled with a lot of memories. one being when you two had broken up, right in the middle of his room. you thought about how hard it must be for him to have to sleep in there every night until you realized his bed was bare. no blankets or pillows of any sort. not even the stuffed animal of the deer you had gotten him on valentine’s day earlier in the year. you grabbed some clean clothes from his closet and wet a towel from the bathroom. 
when you return to the living room, heeseung is spread out on his couch. shirt halfway unbuttoned hugging the deer plushie you were just thinking. you hadn’t realized that heeseung had turned his couch into his bed, further realizing that he had been sleeping out here to avoid being in his room. your heart suddenly ached at the idea, feeling bad that his room had now become a constant reminder of that night.
after you had freshened him up a bit and made sure he finished his water, you were planning to leave. you were wiping his face with the moist towel when heeseung grabbed your hand, “are you mad at me?” heeseung asks with big doe eyes. ones that you’ve stared into lovingly many times before. “i don't know what i am hee…” you say, dropping your hands and gaze to your lap. 
you both sit there in silence for a moment, unaware of what to do or who should say something next. “i should go.” you say as you stand up from the couch but heeseung catches your hand. “please… please stay.” heeseung pleads, looking up at you again with those big doe eyes. “i shouldn’t, that’s probably not a good idea.” you say, trying to reason with him but it felt more like you were trying to convince yourself. 
heeseung pulls you back to the couch but instead of landing back in your seat, you find yourself on his lap. he softly brushes loose strands of hair out of your face and once again, you’re caught in his gaze. “we shouldn’t do this.” again, trying to convince yourself that none of this was a good idea. “but why?” heeseung says, in a whiny tone; reminding you that he was still drunk. “because, we broke up 2 months ago.” explaining to him but heeseung seems to not care. “but i love you. and you love me!” heeseung says, pulling you closer, now into an embrace. you hadn’t felt his hug in so long and you hadn’t realized how much you missed it until you were in his arms again. 
when you bring your arms around his shoulders to hug him back, heeseung releases a sniffle, causing you to let go to look at him. “are you crying hee?” you ask while cupping his face. heeseung had tears welling in his eyes, he wipes them away but not before apologizing. “why are you apologizing?” you ask him. “i’m the reason we broke up. if i was just there for you more often and listened to you and cared more and hugged you more and kissed you more and-” heeseung had entered his infamous nonstop talking phase of when he was drunk. you were sure it was the same way when he was with the guys, especially with how they all said he couldn’t stop talking about you. the only way you could stop him from talking was a kiss, so that’s what you did. when your lips met his, heeseung’s eyes widened but shortly after he kissed you back. you melted under his touch and kiss that you had completely forgot moments ago you were trying to convince yourself that you needed to go home. when the two of you pulled away from the kiss, heeseung had a smile on his face. “stop smiling at me like that.” you say teasingly while pouting him. “sorry, i can’t help it. i’ve missed that for the last 2 months.” heeseung says.
“you don’t know how much i’ve missed you.” heeseung continues while pulling you into a hug once again. “trust me i know. you leave like 6 missed calls a day.” you say with a chuckle while trying to get up. “no. please don’t leave, please.” heeseung once again pleading as you free yourself from his grasp. “relax, i’m just getting up so we can move to your bed. we definitely aren’t sleeping on your couch.” you say while grabbing his pillow and the deer plush. “so you’re staying?” he asks softly. “do you want me to?” you retort but before you could even finish your response, heeseung springs up from the couch with the blanket, “yes!” he says while grabbing your hand and walking you to his bedroom. 
heeseung almost tackles you into his bed. the soft and bouncy comfort overtaking the two of you. when the two of you get into his bed, it’s just like old times. heeseung is the big spoon, his toned arms enveloping you while you hug the deer plush. “goodnight heeseung.” you say. there’s a moment of silence before heeseung says something. 
“i hope you know how sorry i am. nothing was as hard as being without you. waking up and knowing how much i hurt you was painful, but knowing that you were alone hurt even more. goodnight y/n, i love you.” heeseung says in a hushed tone, giving you a small kiss on the head before falling asleep. little did he know you were still awake, a small tear falling from your eyes before you too had fallen asleep. 
the next morning, when heeseung woken up with a yawn and a stretch, he was shocked to find himself in his bed as he had been sleeping on his couch for the last few months. he scrambled out of his bed and made his way into his kitchen where he found you. standing over the stove with chopsticks stirring something in a pot. “y/n?” he asks. “what are you doing here?” heeseung says as he makes his way over to you. “is that ramen?” he says, gaze switching from the pot of ramen on the stove to your eyes. 
“yeah, i know how much you love ramen after a night of drinking so i thought i’d make some for breakfast. i finished the last few packs you had, i hope that’s ok.” you say endearingly while looking up at him. “wait, did you take me home?” he asks, still confused on what you were doing in his apartment. not that he was complaining or anything, his memory of last night was just fuzzy. 
“yeah. jake called me, said you were too drunk to drive home…” you explained. “aaand, that you couldn’t stop talking about and asking for me.” you say teasingly and heeseung drops his head with a hand in his face. you softly grab his hand and move it away from his face, “but it’s ok. i guess it worked out.” you say with a smile, one that heeseung returns.��
you spend the next hour or so helping heeseung remember the events that transpired the night before while you both enjoyed the ramen. you could tell heeseung was extra hungry, he was always like that after drinking, so you let him eat most of it; but heeseung made sure to always put noodles in your bowl when he grabbed more for himself. 
once the two of you had finished eating, you sat in silence. unsure of what to say. “look, y/n i’m so sorry for everything. i know the breakup hasn’t been the easiest for either of us but i just miss you so much. i never stopped thinking about you and knowing how much i hurt you and not being able to fix it was so hard for me. please let me make this right.” heeseung says, now kneeled in front of you, holding your hands. you cup his cheeks that are a bit puffy from the drinking and ramen, “i forgive you hee” you say but heeseung doesn’t process it. “i promise i’ll do better, i’ll never forgive myself if i ever-” heeseung pauses halfway through his sentence. “wait… you forgive me?” he asks unsure of what he heard prior. 
“yeah… unless you don’t want me to?” you say teasingly and heeseung jumps up in joy. “no! i mean yes! i mean what, yes please forgive me. i love you” heeseung says while bringing you into a hug, causing you to laugh at his reaction. 
“but we have to take it slow. i don’t want to rush back into things, we still have a lot to talk about and work through before we act like everything is back to the way it was.” you explain to heeseung as he takes the seat next to you. “i don’t want it to go back to how it was, i want it to be better. and it will be better. trust me.” he says while leaving a kiss on your knuckles. 
“are you going to finish that?” heeseung asks while pointing at the ramen in your bowl you hadn’t finished. you roll your eyes and laugh at him before sliding the bowl over to him. “you know if you weren’t so cute when you’re drunk, this would’ve never happened.” you say to him while he scarfed down the last of the ramen. “pfft, i wasn’t THAT drunk.” heeseung says trying to defend himself. 
“baby, your ears were so red you could practically put rudolph out of a job for the holidays.” you say to him with a hand on his thigh. heeseung briefly chokes on the noodles before the two of you laugh. heeseung looks at you with a smile, “what?” you ask. “nothing… you called me baby…” heeseung says, teasing you, smiling even bigger than before; causing you to roll your eyes. “go wash the dishes before i change my mind.” you say, now teasing him. heeseung immediately gets up, grabbing the dishes, and going to the sink. 
“yes maam! i do whatever a bad bitch tells me!” he says while standing up straight with a salut. you two spend the rest of the day in each other's arms. when you both announce that you’re back together to your friends, jake, jay, and sunghoon respond by jokingly taking the credit because if it weren’t for them you guys wouldn't have gotten back together. 
copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved
all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.
29 notes · View notes
papergirllife · 15 hours
Text
Lee Taeyong (M)
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‘I beg you don't embarrass me, motherfucker.’ But there's always exceptions when it comes to love right?
Taeyong x Bartender! Reader
Wordcount: 6.7k
Warnings: in this fic Taeyong has impulsive tendencies and physical aggression (not towards reader), light b*ndage, or*l play, slight or*l fixation, grinding, penetrati*on, Taeyong is very much down bad in this fic so lots of fluff.
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The party is so boring, no one’s dancing even though they’re dressed to the nines in this extravagant hotel ballroom that could rival any celebrity’s expensive wedding, but instead all they’re doing is talking business, but the worst of them, are gossiping, and of course, to your downtrodden luck, you’re the gossip of the night.
“He’s going to be bored of her soon, I just know it, just look at her, so different from his ex and usual type.”
You’re not the type to be affected by being shit talked, however, you do have your worries, and frankly, heartbreak is one thing, but your ego? That’s another, you think to yourself as you sip on your glass of scotch. You sigh as you recall how you ended up in this predicament in the first place.
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Maybe you should’ve thought through this more thoroughly, you think to yourself after seeing people go in and out of the supply closet, which is obviously a disguise for the illegal casino beneath the pub you’re working at, though, some people do really come for just drinks, but most of them are customers of both businesses under this roof and since you’ve been here for a week plus now, you recognise some of the regulars by now, but a man you don’t recognise is suddenly taking a seat right in front of you, usually customers prefer to go to your colleagues who have been here far longer and know what customers want, only helping out more on weekends where more people come in for a drink.
You rise from your stool, yes, one great thing about working here means workers don’t have to meaninglessly stand the whole night.
“You’re new here?” the man asks, and if you were being honest, he’s probably the prettiest man you’ve seen, but you screw a neutral expression on your face, one should never let their guard down around a man of all things.
“Yup, what can I get you to drink?” you ask as you take in his appearance, dripping in designer, a pretty loose blouse that accentuates his sharp facial features, earrings hanging off his earlobes, the designs feminine compared to what most men wear.
“Scotch on the rocks, please,” he says while he leans back to make himself comfortable, his arms crossed, usually clients would be looking around for someone to take home by now, the usual ‘pub guard’ scanning, you like to call it, but for the ones that want a drink before going down to gamble, they usually have this impatient look in their eyes, not that it affects you, your skin is as thick as a cheese wheel.
However, this man just sits and observes you. Is he part of the mafia and is scared that someone’s going to poison him at any moment? Or is he a cop and is trying to make you cave to tell him about the illegal casino downstairs? You’re just going to act like you had no idea, you’re not working in the casino itself, they can’t charge you on any terms as long as your boss has an alcohol licence, which is what they promised you when you interviewed, if they’re lying you’re gonna have to kick someone’s ass.
When you pass him his drink, he just sits back and takes a sip, his obnoxiously large eyes still looking at you, they’re pretty eyes, but you’ve never kept someone’s attention for this long, though, in most cases, you could walk away, like those creepy men on the subway, you’re not sure if this guy’s a creepy guy, he hasn’t tried grabbing your hand yet, if he did then you’re viable to call security, but he’s just watching you.
“So, what brings you here?” he asks, a hand mindlessly swirling the glass in his hand.
“Needed money, Seoul isn’t getting cheaper by the day,” you say, a general answer.
“How old are you?” he asks, prodding, why is he still prodding?
“In my early twenties, above the legal age to serve you drinks, what about you?” it’s time for you to prod, engage with customers a bit, your manager always tells you, be a little friendlier.
“28. You look older than early twenties, not that it’s a bad thing, of course,” he says, and with the way he says it, you know he doesn’t mean it in a demeaning way, not that you mind, you swore off men long ago, people always tell you there’s better fish in the sea, but all you manage to fish are trash.
“Thanks, I did my makeup to look older,” you reply as out of the corner of your eye you catch a group of men walking in the pub.
“Why?” he asks, oh men, they’re so innocent to the things women go through everyday.
“So people would take me seriously,” you answer honestly before you excuse yourself to make drinks for the customers, you don’t want your manager to think you’re slacking off within a month.
However, after only finishing their second order, your colleague says she’d take over from you, thinking the customers are her regulars, you move away without questioning.
So you go back to talking to the man, this time round, he finally reveals his name to be Taeyong, he even orders a second drink of your choice.
“A negroni?” he asks with the expression of a kicked puppy, smacking his lips distastefully before he requests for a glass of water.
“Wanted to try it out myself one of these days, but I was unsure, guess I’m quite certain I won’t ever try it now I guess,” you say with a shrug and a chuckle at how comical his expressions are, a little bit of betrayal and a tinge of shock, which makes him look more human in your eyes.
A new customer makes his way to the bar in the meantime, but Taeyong’s brows scrunch up when he sees you’re about to step away to serve the customer.
“Let other people handle him, you just stay here with me,” he suggests.
“Taeyong, as nice it is talking to you, I’d like to remind you that this is a strictly professional relationship, please respect the boundaries between a bartender and a customer-
“Missy, who do you think you are talking to him like that, do you know who he is-
“It’s fine Ms Choi, she’s right, I’m merely a regular, I need to respect her boundaries,” Taeyong says, cutting off your manager.
Your manager looks flabbergasted before she composes herself, bowing to Taeyong before she drags you away from the bar to the small staff area on the side.
“I'm warning you since you're new here, Mr Lee is a VIP, don't do anything stupid, he's not the type to pull dumb shit, so you have nothing to worry about. Alright, that's all, get back to work,” she says before dismissing you.
“If you're worried about getting less tips then you don't have to worry, I'll tip you accordingly for the time spent talking to me,” Taeyong says when you get back to your spot.
“It's not that, I’m getting paid anyways, tips are just an extra, I'm still getting paid a base salary talking to you and not doing anything, so a win is a win, I guess,” you brush off, it's not that busy today anyways.
“No, I'm a responsible customer, how about you make me another drink? One that you fancy?” Taeyong suggests.
Hence for the whole night, you indulge in the lengthy conversation the two of you share, and with every night he comes in, you find comfort in this growing friendship, the only hiccup being that he tips you too much money and he won't take no for an answer.
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Months go by and the lines between you and Taeyong start to blur, but you're still quite hesitant, you haven't committed in a relationship since a long time ago and if you're honest, you don't know much about Taeyong other than the fact that he's a businessman, but of what sort of business? You don't have the foggiest idea.
Tonight is a Friday night, which means the bar is busier than usual. Surprisingly enough, Taeyong hasn't dropped in tonight, he doesn't come in every night, but he'd never miss Friday nights.
“Hey, can we get two martinis,” a customer asks, distracting you from your wandering thoughts, and you quickly get to work, but out of the corner of your eye, you see a familiar silhouette heading towards the direction of the fake storage room where the underground casino entrance is located, but the customers asked for something on top of their drinks and you were distracted once again.
After a few more customers, Jiun, a bottle girl and your fellow colleague, rushes to your area of the counter in distress.
“Table 5 wants 6 Coronas in a bucket but I think I just got my period, is it okay if you bring it to them?” she asks, and how can you say no to a woman who's in need of help?
“Sure thing, do you need a pad?” you ask, just in case, you're sure you have some in your locker if she doesn't.
“No, I have one on me, but thank you so much,” she says before scurrying off to the direction of the bathroom.
After putting together the order, you quickly make your way to the table with the customers’ drinks, placing down the bucket on the table.
“You new here, pretty girl? Never seen you around before?” one of the men at the table asks.
“Nope, just helping out my coworker,” you replied as you began to make your way back to the counter.
“What a shame, a pretty face like yours should be admired more, why grind behind a boring counter?” another asks, this one's nearer to you, standing up from his seat to get closer to you.
“Sorry, I have to get back to my job now,” you say, trying to excuse yourself, but the man grabs your arm, telling you to not rush and sit down and have a bottle.
Suddenly, you feel a presence behind you and then you feel someone pulling you by the strap of your money pouch.
“She said no, unhand her,” you'd recognise that voice anywhere, and looking to your side, you see Taeyong next to you, his usually round boba eyes now appearing in a sharp warning stare.
“Fuck off, dude, we were here first, shouldn't we have first dibs on her-
Before you could react to being demeaned in such a way, Taeyong's fist connects with his ugly face, and to your horror, both of them start fighting.
You quickly try pulling them apart but Taeyong pushes himself and the man out of your way, telling you to get security, you didn't want to leave his side, but thankfully, security were already making their way to your direction, blocked by a few drunken customers, his friend, takes the chance to jump in on the fight, and who are you to stand there and do nothing? Taeyong might be handling one guy on his own just fine, but you can't watch him get beaten to a pulp in your name, and you did the most logical thing you could think of by kicking the guy's head with your thick heeled boots and to your astonishment, he seems a bit disorientated by the ordeal, security finally made their way to Taeyong to pull the guy off him and escort him out the pub.
“Are you okay?” you ask Taeyong, but when you inspect his condition a bit closer, you cringe at his busted lip and bruised cheek.
However, before you could suggest accompanying him to the hospital, police arrive at the scene and next thing you know, you’re being escorted to the police station for questioning along with the asshole and Taeyong.
They finished up with you quick, they were a bit sceptical about Taeyong merely defending you, but you played it up a little by lying about how scared you were and maybe you chalked up a little bit on how his hands felt like they were everywhere on you, but it's the least you can do for Taeyong, and it's not like there were cameras anywhere.
“How long is he going to be questioned, officer?” you ask the policeman who had questioned you.
“Probably not long, seeing that his lawyer is here,” he points to the entrance, where a tall man in a suit walks in and follows the lead of an officer into the room Taeyong is being questioned in.
Knowing that he has a lawyer with him, you sigh a breath of relief and sit down on a nearby bench, the coolness of the plastic material digging into your skin, you regret wearing your beloved black velvet shorts now.
Fortunately, true to his words, Taeyong came out soon after, heading to a nearby desk to finish up some paperwork with his lawyer, so you get to your feet and head over to him.
“Brawling in your own pub is a new low, Lee, just let your boys handle shit like this next time,” the officer says.
“Wait, what do you mean your own pub?” the question flies out of your lips and Taeyong looks up, stunned, not knowing that you were still here.
“Leave the questions for later, just finish signing the papers and head out,” the officer orders, with a roll of your eyes, you stand right there, waiting for Taeyong to explain himself, his lawyer trying his best not to laugh.
“So? Care to explain yourself why you've been lying to me this whole time? Regular my ass,” you mutter the last part to yourself as you walk out the police station, cursing when you realise you don't have your coat with you, it's bearable now that it's creeping into June, but you've always preferred being warm.
“I'm going to get going, my cab's here,” his lawyer says, grasping this small window to leave before he gets caught up in a lover's quarrel, passing Taeyong something, to which you identify as car keys.
“Thank you, Johnny,” he says before turning to you with a sigh, his lips sit in a thin line, looking a bit lost at the sight of you, your usual smile wiped from your face as your pretty eyes stare daggers into his face, arms folded, and that's when he notices the goosebumps littering your arm.
“I didn't tell you that I was the boss because I wanted to get to know you without the label and pressure of me being your boss,” Taeyong explains as he shrugs off his coat to hang it on your shoulders before he directs you to a luxury SUV parked nearby.
“You could've told me sooner, asshole. And, why did you pull that shit tonight? You could've gotten yourself beaten to a pulp if I didn't literally step in and step on his head,” you lament, expressing your dissatisfaction with your entire body to the point of swinging your beloved Coach bag that you told Taeyong you were saving up weeks for, and Taeyong thinks you're so cute when you're angry, but he does have to make an effort to dodge the angry swing of your bag as he helps you climb up the passenger seat of his car.
“I know, and thank you for saving my ass but I need to shut the door and get going now, princess,” Taeyong says and does so before you could protest his usage of endearments when you're mad at him.
“How about we get some food before I drive you back to your place?” he suggest when he starts the car, seeing that you're now giving him the silent treatment, face turned to the side to look out to not see him, but the word ‘fine’ uttered from your lips has Taeyong breathing a sigh of relief as he confidently drives into a familiar street where he knows a convenience store is located.
After getting and heating up noodles and onigiris to share, the two of you take a seat in the empty store.
“Don't do embarrassing shit like this on my behalf ever again,” you warn before digging into your cup noodles, the spicy warm soup bringing instant comfort and familiarity after such a hectic night.
“It doesn't matter if it's on your behalf, that fucker deserved it,” Taeyong reasoned as he peels off the plastic wrapping of his onigiri, taking a huge bite of the delicious rice ball he was craving.
“Just don't do anything stupid anymore, if I couldn't handle myself I could've called security, you doing something stupid embarrasses me too, you know, I don't want to end up in the police station with you ever again, my friends are going to think I'm dating a crook,” you say offhandedly, but Taeyong’s eyes are as wide as saucers as he takes in your words.
“Wait, what do you mean dating?” he asks with the biggest smile on his face, onigiri placed on the side, suddenly he's not hungry anymore.
“Don't tell me you're not taking responsibility, I'm literally wearing your jacket and risked jail time for your ass,” you say so casually that Taeyong feels like he's having a fever dream, not even his best fantasies would he ever depict himself being labelled as your significant other.
“No, never, I'm definitely taking full responsibility, and I promise, no more doing stupid shit to embarrass you, I swear,” Taeyong pledges, his hand coming up to salute you, the goofy gesture finally getting the first laugh out of you for the night.
“Though, to prevent me from doing stupid shit, I have a proposition, you have a marketing degree right? I know you said you're against working for big corps cause you hate how they practically steal money off of people's needs, but I do have a few establishments, restaurants of a few cuisines, that need a proper marketer to oversee and promote, so if you're not opposed to letting go your bartending job…” and before Taeyong could finish, you were quick to say yes.
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Boy, do the days go by so fast after that, your new job is mostly online, you have two coworkers, a graphic designer –Mark Lee and a social media manager, or better known as the restaurants’ staffs’ biggest fear, Lee Haechan. A small department compared to the two finance departments, one for clean money and one for dirty money, but if anyone asks, you'd say you didn’t have a clue.
Starting out a new job wasn't easy, nor was it too difficult, being a ‘quite fresh’ graduate meant you still recall plenty of the knowledge you've studied in college, but the huge funds you had was of great assistance, which brings you to this party hosted by his friend.
Taeyong said he wanted to bring Yuta, his omakase chef who had just earned his first three Michelin stars under his new restaurant, thanks to your hard work in marketing to attract new rich customers and food critics.
However, people on the top of the food chain always had a reputation of being absolute dickheads.
“She’s literally younger than him, his ex was older by five years at least, and she was one of us, I did some digging, this girl isn’t even from one of the SKY universities,” one of them comments, and it’s true, you’re not that smart and you weren’t born with a silver spoon in your mouth, but what has you freezing in your spot is what comes out of their mouths next.
“I heard he got into a fight at his own bar for her and ended up getting detained for a bit, she’s just going to have him end up locked up if he stays with her, people like her bring nothing but bad omens.”
“Don’t tell me you’re letting their words get to you,” Yuta says, popping out of nowhere beside you.
“Even the strongest trees waver under the pressure of the winds, Yuta,” you say before finishing your glass.
Yuta and you have grown close after you had worked closely to promote the restaurant, and he values your opinion of which presentation you prefer, which is rare for chefs, especially the ones you've worked with with many years of experience and a reputation.
“Yeah, but who gives a fuck about some shitty pretentious university, that shit don’t matter as long as you land a job, plus, their faces are so botched, you look way better, Taeyong would never pick these shitty pick mes over you,” Yuta comments way too loudly for your comfort, but thankfully the girls were loudly squealing at the fact that their friend is finally here, welcoming her, unbeknownst of Yuta’s lethal words.
“Pick who over my sweetheart?” Taeyong asks, a hand coming to rest around your waist.
“I said you wouldn't, but someone’s doubting after hearing a few snarky remarks,” Yuta says, which has you freezing in your spot, Taeyong’s always been very protective and defensive about you, you don’t want to witness him fucking someone up tonight at such a prestigious party.
“Yeah, trust me, man to man, he’s definitely just fucking her on the down low, he’d never go for someone lower class, she’s most probably just a cheap fuck,” you look over Yuta’s shoulder to see a man standing next to one of the girls who were talking shit about you, two people were blocking their sight of your little group, so they hadn’t seen Taeyong coming back.
And to your horror, Taeyong leaves your side, walking up to the little clique.
“Oh god, he’s going to embarrass me,” you say with a groan before you quickly follow Taeyong as fast as you can in your Louboutins.
With a swing and the cracking of bones, you see the guy hunched over immediately, cursing as he holds his bloodied nose in his hand, when you finally got to the scene, the music had been cut, the place drowning in shocked silence no thanks to your heels, sue you, but you didn’t expect to need to run tonight, it was just two feet but these heels are so unwalkable.
“Don’t let me catch you assholes talking about my girlfriend ever again, you don’t want to know what I can do beyond breaking your nose,” Taeyong threatens as the guy quickly cowers on his spot on the floor.
“I wouldn’t mess with him if I were you,” someone says as they walk towards the scene, his name is Woozi, Taeyong had told you about the host of this party being a close friend of his who he had helped out when he had just taken over his father’s empire, you had no idea how much that meant to Woozi, but seeing them interacting now, you understand that if you mess with one of them, the other one immediately retaliates, “you wouldn’t want to go against him or me,” he says, elaborating no further, you hadn’t ask Taeyong what Woozi’s empire entails, but you think the less you know, the better.
“No, no, please, I was stupid, I’m sorry, miss,” he apologises to you before quickly escaping the scene, the girls leaving as well, tails tucked between their legs as they scramble, it’s quite an amusing scene.
“Thank you for standing up for me, Woozi, it’s nice to finally meet the host of this amazing party,” you say before sticking out your hand for him to shake.
“The honour’s all mine,” Woozi says as he takes your hand, “and nice to finally meet you, it’s nice to finally put a face to the person hyung’s been gushing about nonstop,” Woozi teases, which then earns him a light playful slap from Taeyong.
“Gushing is perfectly fine, I just wish he’d stop embarrassing himself and me on my behalf,” you say with an annoyed sigh as you turn to stare daggers into your boyfriend.
“Oh come on, I couldn’t just stand them and let them belittle you, what kind of man would I be if I didn’t do anything?” Taeyong retorts with a sheepish expression, he knows you don’t like it when he goes out of his way for you to this point, but he couldn’t help it, he loves you so dearly.
“You’re just proving them right by reacting, Yong, we talked about this,” you say, exasperated as you toss your arms up in defeat, you don’t know how to get this through his head at all.
“Proving what? Baby,” Taeyong calls out as you take off to the exit too, you have decided that tonight has been too much for you, you're tired of all this glitz and glamour with this thick layer of utter bullshit with their grade school playground gimmicks.
“Help me keep an eye on Yuta, I need to talk to her,” Taeyong quickly says to Woozi before he picks up the pace to follow you, ending up out at the lobby of the hotel, you were talking to the valet, and he distantly hears you asking for the keys.
“Baby, come on, don’t be mad, I’m sorry, I was stupidly acting on impulse, you know how defensive I get when it comes to you,” Taeyong reasons, but you keep quiet, trying to compose your thoughts, your car that you share with Taeyong pulls up, and immediately Taeyong tries taking the keys from the valet.
“You drank,” you say before pushing his hand away to retrieve your key, you did too, but Taeyong’s alcohol tolerance is much lower than yours, god knows he shouldn’t be driving.
Taeyong’s heart warms when he registers the chastise from you, you still care about him, you still love him, and so with a love stricken smile on his face and a slight bounce in his step, he's a giggly drunk so this happens all the time, though when he gets in the car, he worries once more when he sees how you chose to not play any music nor talk whilst driving.
When the two of you finally reached home, you immediately retreated into your shared bedroom, not sparing Taeyong a glance, not even when he offered to remove your heels for you.
Taeyong sighs to himself as he follows you upstairs, you had locked yourself in the bathroom as of now, probably cleaning your face free off makeup, he knows how you much you hate the texture of it on your skin despite loving to doll up, and he can’t blame you, even bb cream feels a tad bit too thick for Taeyong when you had applied it on him for fun.
Taeyong quickly changes into his house clothes and leaves the bedroom, just in case you need more space, he never wants to intrude when you want some alone time, even if he craves your affection, you’ll come around soon, you always do, Taeyong reassures himself.
When Taeyong was about to turn on the telly to kill some time, he hears you walking down the stairs, turning back to look over the sofa, Taeyong’s jaw drops at the sight of you.
Adorned in a beautiful lingerie set with a delicate crystal chain hanging around your upper left thigh, your face without a smidge of product, but he thinks you look best like this, but what finally has his cock twitching was what you had in your hold, a familiar pair of handcuffs.
“Sweetheart…” Taeyong mutters as thoughts of endless possibilities of how the night would play out runs through his head, but you silence him with the tip of your finger placed on his lips.
“Just let me do my thing, sit back and enjoy,” you say before you drop to your knees, your sultry eyes watching Taeyong’s every expression, and the sight of his Adam's apple bobbing has you cracking a smile as you lock his hand into the handcuffs.
Taeyong feels like he’s being hypnotised when your eyes stay on his whilst sliding his pants and boxers down, he almost didn’t feel his cock twitching from the cold air, but before he could even register the cold in its entirety, you take him into your mouth, the sudden action has Taeyong cursing, he would’ve bucked into your mouth if it wasn’t for your hands holding his hips down, he breathes a slightly frustrated sigh from the restriction, but like the little minx you are, you quickly hollow your cheeks after sinking in deeper, the tip of his length hitting the back of your throat.
“Fuck!” Taeyong curses as he grows tense at your ministrations, he swears he almost came right then and there when he felt the constriction of your throat, his fingers turn white from grasping against the cuffs to anchor himself.
You take in the sight of him struggling to not cum and take pity on him, your mouth leaving his cock with a pop with a sly smile on your lips before your hands grasp him tightly, making sure he doesn’t cum too soon, the pressure sending a jolt down Taeyong’s spine, his usual round boba eyes now hooded but he scrunches them shut on impulse when you push back the foreskin, exposing the sensitive tip, giving it quick kitten licks before you suck on it like a lollipop, your tongue placed underneath his tip and you suck hard, and that’s when Taeyong goes over the edge, his body seizing up, you quickly take him down your throat, smiling around the edges of his cock when you feel the familiar warmth running down your throat, you keep him in your mouth until he stops, pulling off of him with a slight giggle when you see his chest heaving, limp against the couch, all from your undoing, and what a power trip that gives you, a rich and powerful man succumbing to your actions.
“How are you holding up, baby? Need a break?” you ask as you straddle him, tossing over your leg to situate yourself perfectly between his thighs, the lace material coming into contact with his cock, twitching back to life when it feels the slight warmth and moisture of your heat.
“More, please,” Taeyong utters as he tries his best to move his hips, and so you indulge him, rotating your hips until he hardens underneath you again.
You hear the clinks of his cuffs when you stand up, ceasing all physical contact, giggling when you hear him beg for you to come back, but he goes mute when he sees you shift the crotch of your lingerie to the side, climbing back into his embrace.
“You’re gonna ride me all dressed up prettily, sweetheart?” Taeyong asks, head tilted to the side as he takes in the sight of you, eyes locked onto his as you stare down at him, and he can’t help himself, lowering his head to litter kisses on your arm as he inhales your scent, call him a madman, but your scent might as well be as addictive as nicotine itself, the way he can’t seem to get enough of it.
Taeyong then shifts his head to the valley of your breasts, mouthing at your cleavage, pulling down the flimsy coverage by its thin straps to gain access to your bare chest, goosebumps rise on your skin when he finally takes a nipple into his mouth, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks on it like his life depends on it, like he really wants to eat you up, the action has you chasing for more pleasure, grinding your clit on the tip of his length before you can't take it anymore, reaching down with shaking hands to position him to your core, moaning his name as you finally slide down, slowly taking him inside you inch by inch, Taeyong's succumbed to the sweet feeling of your warm walls, giving up on worshipping your boobs, instead he's gripping onto your hips hard as he focuses on being engulfed in your heat, he's kind of slobbering on your right boob, but you find it arousing, the way he's so lost in pleasure, his eyes shut, brows furrowed as he mutters a string of sweet nothings as you make your way down to the hilt.
An almost delirious smile makes its way onto Taeyong’s face when you squeeze around him, head dipped low as he curses from your actions, you tilt his chin up with your fingertips, ego inflating at the sight of how wrecked he is and you barely even started.
“It’s been so long and you’re still reacting this way,” you noted as you caressed the side of his face.
“For you? Forever,” Taeyong says with full honesty, eyes overflowing with lust as he confesses, looking so vulnerable, underneath you like you’re his god, and in a way, you might just be, if Taeyong had it his way, he’d build a palace just for you and dedicate his life to you.
“I know,” you say with a row of your hips, cursing in unison with your lover when you feel him penetrate the deepest parts of your heat, that sensitive spot that has your toes curling.
Spurred on by Taeyong’s ever vocal devotion towards you, you raise your hips before slamming down once again, and the moan of your name escaping his lips has you doing it again and again, the quick drag of his length against your flesh has the whole house filled with the sound of sex resonating within its walls, you’re grateful Taeyong’s unit is the penthouse, because Taeyong’s always been so vocal in bed, his voice pitched much higher than it usually is, and as much as you revel in the feeling of people admiring your man, you don’t want anyone else hearing how beautiful he sounds when he’s laid bare underneath you.
With how fast you’re going, you’re sure there’s indentations of the sofa’s legs on the expensive wooden flooring, but fuck it, you’re so close, but you’re to blame for that, clenching on him every time you sink down, just so you could see the way he tries the very hardest not to cum way too early, not that you’d mind, it happened many times before, and you still find it so hot.
Deciding to not prolong the torture any longer, you reach down to rub quick circles on your clit as you grind the tip of his cock to that one spot deep inside, that perfect 12 o'clock angle that has your legs turning jelly, with a hiss of Taeyong’s name and a spasm of your walls from the shocks of pleasure coursing through your entire body, you finally reach your peak, your body sagging in sweet relief, your sensitive nipples feel so good against his skin, but after having a quick moment to yourself, you quickly slide off of him with a loud squelch that got a giggle out of you even in this heated state, getting down on your knees and take him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and suck, lips stretched, with his dick lodge at the back of your throat when you see his legs buckle and soon after, splashes of his warm release drip down your throat once again, when the flow ceases, you pull off of him with a deafening pop.
“Good boy,” you say after getting up brushing his cheek softly with those tender eyes that make Taeyong weak in the knees, only he gets to see this tender side of you, and it drives him mad sometimes, that it’s only reserve for him, of everyone you could choose to dote on, you chose him, and he hopes you’ll keep choosing him till the end of time.
With a quick click, he feels the cuffs being loosened and tossed away, instantly his arms are around your figure, pulling you into a deep kiss, the taste of himself on your lips spurs him on, but he wills himself to get his shit together, he knows you must be tired from doing all the work tonight, and there’s something that needs to be addressed soon, and so he pulls away from your lips, his hand placed on your right cheek, thumb brushing against the curvature of your cheek bone.
“Do you feel better now? Are you still angry at me or do I need to do more than letting you ravage my body like that?” Taeyong jokes with a laugh, but he immediately sobers up when he sees you sigh and climb off his sturdy legs.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten mad like that,” you say as you cringe as you recall how you acted out earlier today, you know no one’s perfect, but when you slip up, it reminds you too much of your own mother, throwing a tantrum and running away, and you swear you’d never be like her, but at the end of the day, you’re a work of progress, and fortunately, Taeyong understands.
“Do you want to tell me what triggered you?” Taeyong asks, his tone gentle, he never directs his aggression at you, no matter the situation, he loves you too much to ever even think of doing that.
“They said some things, and they’re not entirely wrong-” but you’re being cut off by an irritated sigh, Taeyong hates it when you demean yourself this way. “Before you get mad, hear me out, they said how I’d always get you in trouble, and when you think about it, they’re not wrong, I literally landed you in jail the first night we got together, Yong, and the shit they said about me not being from one of the prestigious universities, they’re not wrong about that, it’s just facts, I’m just not part of this elite social ladder, that isn’t the point. The point is that I feel like I’m tarnishing your reputation and in relation, your businesses,” you finish off with another sigh, you haven’t been sighing this much these days, so this feels oddly familiar in the worst ways possible, Taeyong’s been making your life more comfortable every single day, but you on the other hand, are contributing to his troubles.
“Don’t let them get to your head, you’re literally bringing in so much profit for me, sweetheart, next time I’ll throw a party just to show everyone how our numbers are doing, it’ll blow them away, also, you’re doing all that without a goddamn degree from those snobbish colleges. Lastly, you don’t get me in trouble, it’s just part and parcel of protecting the person I love, something they’d never understand with how shallow they are, don’t let people with an EQ of 0 determine how you live, and I know what you want to say,” Taeyong says when he sees you open your mouth to protest, “I’ll try my best to not get in trouble and keep my temper in check, but I do hope you understand that if it isn’t me, I’m just gonna have someone else do the dirty job of beating them up,” Taeyong says, compromising, that’s how his father and mother did it, he always believes that’s the key to a long lasting marriage, which is something he’d want with you in the near future.
“Fine,” you say with a sigh, but he sees the ghost of a smile on your face as you lean down to rest your head on his broad shoulder, littering kisses from his neck to the end of his shoulder, Taeyong lets himself bask in your affection for a bit, knowing that you thrive off giving physical affection, but he's a clean freak at the end of the day, getting the both of you clean is still a priority.
“Come, let’s have a bath, my love,” Taeyong suggests as he carries you the direction of your bedroom, and you let him, soaking up the feeling of being loved, maybe Taeyong’s right, nothing matters when you have a love as cosmic as the one you share with Taeyong.
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fandomworld9728 · 2 days
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U got time for some Radioapple Angst? Do ya think you could whip up an angst scenario about where Alastor confesses Lucifer that he likes him but Luci (scared of being left alone again after his divorce with Lilith and everything fell apart) gently rejects him, in fear of being in love again while also wanted what’s best for Al 🥲 and maybe cue to Lucifer leaving the hotel and heads back to the palace to be alone (while also notifying Charlie that he’ll be gone for awhile) 😭
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(Radioapple angst coming right up! I actually had a similar idea where it's Lucifer who confessed and got rejected. So, he left the hotel so that way he didn't make Alastor uncomfortable)
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Lucifer:
What? Did he hear that right? Alastor, the fearsome and powerful radio demon just confessed to him?
He couldn't believe it, but here Alastor was. Standing in front of him, nervous smile and a bouquet of dead flowers.
This... this couldn't be happening. Right? What in the Seven Rings had he even done to make Alastor fall for him? Last he knew the Sinner had hated him but was slowly warming up to him. For Charlie's sake.
Lucifer would be lying if the declaration hadn't affected him. Because this Sinner, this Overlord, this human soul, had seen him. The real him and not only stayed but also loved him. The last time that had happened was with Lilith. However, she had left him all alone. Had taken their daughter with her because she had grown tired, bored, and annoyed with him. Didn't see him fit to be a good parent for Charlie.
Shaking those thoughts from his head, he tried to focus on the man in front of him. Alastor wanted Lucifer the broken Fallen Angel who was trying to do right by his daughter and the souls in his care. Not the all-powerful King of Hell. So, why were these horrible thoughts swirling around his head?
Would Alastor leave when he got bored like Lilith did? What if they did get together and ended up having a child of their own? Would he take them away like she had? The more Lucifer listened to the voices in his head, the more his panic rose. Why wouldn't they shut up and let him be happy for once?
There were so many factors. So many fears he had. As much as he desperately wanted to smile and say yes, take a chance on these budding feelings he had for the Overlord, Lucifer knew what the smart choice was. Leading with his head instead of his heart this time, he took a deep breath to steady himself.
"Alastor. This is sweet and romantic. You have no idea how happy this makes me. But... I can't accept your confession."
"...What...?"
Oh Satan. Not the break in his vocal filter. This was so painful. He knew he was about to hurt Alastor. About to ruin whatever had developed between them. Would Alastor hate him after this?
"What the fuck do you mean you can't accept my confession?"
"I know that you put a lot into this and that this was probably difficult for you... I'm sorry."
~
Here he was back at square one. All alone in his palace once again. He had to get out the hotel, away from Alastor, as quick as he could. If he hadn't, he would have broken down in front of the Sinner and told him everything.
Forever being broken and pathetic. A coward. Having Alastor hate him was much then him realizing what everyone does eventually when they get close to him. He couldn't go through that again.
Besides, it was too dangerous for anyone to be in a relationship with him. Heaven used his ex-wife and daughter against him once, he knows they'd pull that same shit with anyone Lucifer cared about and loved. Charlie was old enough and powerful enough to protect herself well enough if it came down to it and who knows where Lilith ran off too, so she was fine.
Alastor, while being one of the most powerful human souls Lucifer's seen in a long while, wouldn't stand a chance against the higher-ranking angels and the Elders. At least this way he was safe. Not just from Heaven. Safe from Lucifer as well. Sometimes he was a hard time controlling the darker parts of his powers. Especially when he was emotional.
He could feel it creeping up on him even now-
"No! Don't think about it. Focus on something else. Like... Like ways to help Charlie that don't involve being at the hotel or around Alastor. And don't think about the crushed look in her eyes when you told her that you would be moving back into the palace for the time being..."
Once he had explained why, she told him that she understood. But he hated to make her hurt in any sort of way. He had reassured her he would remember to keep in touch this time and that she could contact him for anything. He'd be back at the hotel once things cooled down between him and Alastor.
But what if things never cool down? Did he ruin his one chance to make things right with his daughter because he was afraid to love again? What was wrong with him?!
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Alastor:
He had done it. Alastor had taken Rosie's advice on what to do with these... feelings....
He had spent a good part of the day getting things ready. Their usual meeting place, the hotel's roof, had been decorated with candles and something Angel Dust had referred to as fairy lights.
Music was playing from somewhere. Odd. Alastor didn't remember bringing anything up there to play music. He could solve that mystery later. His grip on the bouquet of Hell's native flowers tightened as his anxiety grew.
The poor things had died as soon as he had touched them. Oh well. If anyone could appreciate the beauty in one's death, it would be his king.
His king.
Ha. Alastor never thought he would be calling the man he once detested by such a title. However, Lucifer had proven himself worthy of such a title. Now, if the man would stop staring at him and give him an answer!
While he did enjoy leaving Lucifer flustered and speechless, he was becoming antsy. Vulnerability was not easy for him and made him uncomfortable. The Fallen Angel knew this, yet he was still standing there gawking at him.
He was about to snap when finally, finally, Lucifer spoke up. But now, Alastor wished that he had just stayed silent. 
"Alastor. This is sweet and romantic. You have no idea how happy this makes me. But.... I can't accept your confession."
What? If this makes him happy then why did he...? Was Rosie wrong about Lucifer feeling the same as Alastor? No... Rosie was never wrong about these things. So, why?
"...What...? What the fuck do you mean you can't accept my confession?"
"I know that you put a lot into this and that this was probably difficult for you... I'm sorry."
Before he could stop him, Lucifer had disappeared in a swirl of red and glitter. Leaving Alastor all alone in deafening silence. What had just happened? Did he just get rejected? Had that pitiful man, that coward, just rejected him and ran away without explaining why? 
What was this feeling? It.... hurt. Felt like whatever had been remaining of his heart was shattering. Digging his claws into the spot, Alastor felt his knees hit the roof tiles of the roof. However, he barely registered the feeling. He felt so numb.
'I'm sorry.'
Sorry? He was sorry?! Alastor would make sure he knew what that meant the next time he saw that poor excuse for a king! He'd rip the devil limb from limb and broadcast his screams throughout the Pride Ring. He'd do it until he was satisfied, knowing that Lucifer can't die. That he'd just regenerate quicker than any Sinner could ever dream of. Even if angelic steel was involved.
~
Alastor had locked himself away for the rest of the night once he found out that Lucifer would not be staying at the hotel for some time. He had planned to wreak havoc on that fool's room to teach him a lesson, but when he got in there, all he did was lay that stupidly oversized yet extremely comfortable bed like he had done so many times before. When he would stay up late to talk with Lucifer when he couldn't sleep.
Alastor had locked himself away for the rest of the night once he found out that Lucifer would not be staying at the hotel for some time. He had planned to wreak havoc on that fool's room to teach him a lesson, but when he got in there, all he did was lay that stupidly oversized yet extremely comfortable bed like he had done so many times before. When he would stay up late to talk with Lucifer when he couldn't sleep.
If Lucifer thought that he could just leave, he had another thing coming. Alastor wasn't going to let him get away that easy. He'd drag that idiot king back to the hotel himself he need be, but he wasn't going to let the man that lit his heart on fire get away. Ever.
No matter what. Lucifer better enjoy what little solitude he was getting right now. It would be the last of it he'd be getting. Alastor couldn't let him out of his sight now. Not after he just ran away like that.
"Prepare yourself, Lucifer Morningstar. You will regret awakening these feelings and desires within me."
(Hope you enjoyed! Let me know if you'd like a part 2!)
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alwaysmicado · 1 hour
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Callisto I
10.2k | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 9
Series Masterlist | Joel Masterlist | previous | AO3
Warnings: no outbreak AU, implied age gap, emotional hurt/comfort, weed, mention of domestic violence, toxic dynamic, graphic vomiting, emotional rollercoaster, fluff Summary: Your car ride home from the beach is...eventful. Joel does something special for you to express his feelings. A/N: This part was going to be much too long, so I split it in two. It was important for me to post part I of Callisto before my birthday, and I’m so excited that I finally get to share it with you. Happy reading & please let me know your thoughts if you’re up for it. Thank you for your continued support, guys! ♡ Dividers by @/cafekitsune. Songs: Backburner by NIKI & My Exes by Snake City
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“Why do you keep coming back?”
You bring the joint to your lips, your fingers brushing lightly against his as he passes it over. You take a deep drag, letting the familiar burn of the weed settle into your lungs before you exhale, slowly, the smoke curling into the night air. It’s a slow haze, softening your anger, making it easier to breathe even if only for a little while. 
The pressure in your chest doesn’t lift—it never does, not really—but the weed at least dulls the edges.
For now, anyway.
The streetlight casts long shadows on the chipped concrete, bathing you both in a murky orange hue. You sit side by side on the curb, the shared joint passing lazily between you, the quiet of the night only disturbed by a dog barking further down the road.
Simon leans back, his shoulders slumped, the hood of his jacket pulled up, obscuring most of his face. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, tracing the outline of his jaw, the way his lips curl around the joint. You hate how he still looks good to you, even after his latest stunt. 
“Why do you keep coming back?” he asks again, his voice low and gravelly, as if he already knows the answer but wants to hear you say it. “If all we do is hurt each other?”
You shrug, looking up at the stars, or what little of them you can see through the haze of city smog. You know the answer, but it feels too pathetic to admit out loud. The truth? It’s not that simple. It never has been.
“Maybe because the pain is addicting,” you whisper, your voice barely cutting through the stillness. “It’s like…a twisted dance, and we can’t stop stepping on each other’s toes.”
Simon smirks, and you catch the briefest glimpse of that crooked smile that makes your heart race. “You always were poetic,” he mutters, his tone tinged with both affection and scorn. He passes you the joint again, and this time, when your fingers brush, it sends a jolt through you—familiar, electric, dangerous.
You take a drag, letting the smoke cloud your thoughts, dull the ache. “I mean it, Simon,” you say, the words coming out slower now, heavy from both the high and the weight of them. “We know how to hurt each other in all the right ways. It’s almost like…we’re better at hurting than loving.”
He chuckles, but it’s empty, hollow. “Maybe we were never supposed to love in the first place,” he says, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Maybe all we’re good at is fucking things up.”
There’s no denying the truth in his words. You’ve been here before, countless times, caught in this cycle of destruction, breaking each other apart piece by piece, only to come back together, craving the chaos more than the calm. Simon would get restless after a while, he’d cheat and lie, you’d find out, you’d scream, cry, threaten to leave, and then—somehow—you’d end up in his arms again.
It was exhausting, suffocating, but it was also magnetic. You didn’t know how to leave. And neither did he.
You sigh, flicking the ashes of the joint onto the ground, your hand trembling slightly. “It’s fucked up, isn’t it?” you say, more to yourself than to him. “The way I can’t seem to let you go, even though I know you’re bad for me.”
He tilts his head, a smirk tugging at his lips as he studies your face for a moment. “Have you ever considered that you’d be a lot happier if you just admitted to yourself that you like it?”
He reaches for the joint, his fingers brushing yours for longer this time, deliberate. “You can keep telling yourself I’m the bad guy all you want, babe,” he says, his voice low, “but we both know you ain’t innocent in this either. You like it. The fighting, the drama, the sex. You like what we have.”
Your stomach tightens at his words, because there’s a part of you that knows he’s right. 
You’ve said things, done things, you’re not proud of. Screamed in his face, hurled insults meant to wound, thrown plates that shattered like the fragile remains of your relationship. And then, when the storm passed, you’d pull him into bed, your anger melting into a desperate kind of need. It was all you knew—this toxic spiral that twisted love and pain together until you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
“Maybe,” you admit softly, feeling the weight of your own guilt settle on your shoulders. “Maybe I do.”
Simon turns to you then, his gaze locking with yours, and for a moment, you can see the cracks in his armor, the vulnerability he never lets anyone else see. “So, what are we doing here?” he asks, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “We’re just gonna keep doing this? Over and over?”
You swallow hard, the question hanging between you like a knife. You know the answer, even if you don’t want to admit it. You’re stuck in this loop, and neither of you knows how to break free.
“I don’t know,” you say, your voice barely audible. “I don’t know how to stop.”
Simon leans in closer, his breath warm against your cheek, and for a second, your heart races with that familiar, dangerous anticipation. “We don’t have to stop,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “We can keep this going; keep fucking up, keep hurting, keep loving. It’s what we do.”
You let out a small, tired laugh, and shake your head. “Yeah, Simon, great plan,” you say, your tone light, almost condescending, though there’s no real bite behind it. “Let’s just keep breaking each other into pieces. That’s gonna end well.”
You don’t even have the energy to fight properly. It’s all too much, and you’re too tired. Tired of the fights, the back-and-forth, the constant cycling through pain and passion like it’s the only way you know how to exist together.
He watches you closely, his gaze unwavering, as if he’s trying to figure out what you’re thinking, waiting for you to snap at him, to tell him off. But you don’t. You can’t. You feel the exhaustion settle in your bones, making it impossible to muster up any anger.
Why is it so difficult?
What the hell is wrong with you that it’s so difficult for him to love you? To not hurt you? You wonder if it’s something about you, something broken deep inside, something that makes you impossible to love. 
You’ve tried, haven’t you? You’ve bent yourself to fit the version of you he seems to want, the version that’s easier, less complicated, less demanding. But no matter how much you bend, no matter how much you give, it’s never enough.
What is it about you that’s so unlovable?
“I’m sorry, you know,” Simon murmurs, taking a long drag from the joint.
You blink, your head feeling light, detached, like you’re floating just above the surface of yourself. The words come slower now, softer, like you have to pull them from some faraway place.
“For what?”
You hear yourself ask the question, but it feels distant, like it’s not really you speaking. The world around you is muffled, like you’re wrapped in cotton, the sounds, the lights, all muted. Simon’s face swims in your vision, and for a moment, you focus on the way his lips curve as he exhales, the smoke curling lazily from his mouth. You watch it drift up, swirling in the air between you, and it’s almost beautiful, the way it moves, weightless and free.
Simon glances at you, his eyes half-lidded, bloodshot, but there’s something in his gaze—something that makes you feel a tug of recognition, though your mind is too foggy to grasp what it is. He takes another drag, slower this time, and when he speaks again, his voice is soft.
“You know what.” He hands you back the joint and you take it, and you inhale deeply, the burn in your lungs calming your nerves.
“Then why’d you do it?” 
He hadn’t even tried to hide it this time. You heard the story from someone else first, a smug, offhand comment meant as a joke. Simon, with his arm slung over your shoulder, laughing along like it was nothing, like you weren’t standing right there, feeling the ground crumble beneath your feet.
“I was drunk as fuck ‘cause they kept bringing shots after shots after shots, and she took advantage of that like you wouldn’t believe. That’s what those girls do, and shit, I wasn’t the only one they got like that—Ben, Jake, Alex, Teddy too, I think.”
All of them in relationships, one to be married in two weeks, one with a baby on the way. 
Disgusting.
“It’s so easy for you, isn’t it?” you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them.
Simon furrows his brow, turning to you, confusion flashing across his face. “What do you mean?”
You shake your head, unable to look at him directly, your gaze fixed on the joint between your fingers. “Going through life, knowing nothing is ever your fault,” you murmur. There’s no anger in your tone, just a tired sort of resignation, like you’re saying something you’ve known all along.
“What are you talking about?” he scoffs. “Nothing’s ever been easy for me. I fucked up royally, yeah, I get that, but it wasn’t my fucking fault. I didn’t even wanna go to the damn club, but Alex wouldn’t stop begging, so I gave in.”
“You see?” you say, your voice quiet, but firm. “You’re fine as long as Alex was the one who made you cheat. It’s all good ‘cause the stripper took advantage of you, right?” You can hear the bitterness in your own voice.
“You don’t need to change or grow, ‘cause, what’s the point, your parents fucked you up anyway. It’s your boss’s fault your coworkers complain about you, it’s the cops’ fault that you got a DUI, and it’s my fault that you resent me.”
You watch Simon’s face as the words sink in, the flicker of defensiveness in his eyes, the way his jaw tightens.
“And I know that deep down you really do believe all that.” You pause, staring at him through the thick fog clouding your mind, your body sinking deeper into the concrete. “So, I guess my question is…why even bother with me anymore?”
“Baby…”
“No, I’m serious,” you say, cutting him off, but there’s no fire in your voice, just a dull weariness that matches the slow pulse of your heartbeat. “Why? Why keep me around when you could be happy, doing what you wanna do, without me holding you back?”
Simon sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair, his shoulders slumping. “I wouldn’t be happy without you.”
“But I’m not enough for you,” you whisper, tears inadvertently filling your eyes. “I’ve never been enough. Despite trying everything in my power. I’m not enough for you.”
Simon doesn’t answer right away. He takes the joint from your hand, inhaling deeply, staring at some distant point in the darkened parking lot. The quiet stretches, thick and uncomfortable, and for a moment, you think he’s not going to answer at all. But then he finally sighs, rubbing a hand over his face like he’s trying to buy himself more time.
“What do you want me to say?” he mutters. “You know I’m not always good with words or expressing feelings and all that shit…but you’re wrong. You’re everything to me.”
He hands you the joint and you shake your head, a mirthless laugh bubbling to the surface. “Yeah, that’s why you fucked a stripper and had unprotected sex with me right after. Do you hear yourself?”
He exhales exasperatedly as he leans back, palms pressed against the cool concrete. “It’s not– it didn’t mean anything,” he says, his voice defensive. “It’s not like I’m looking for someone better than you.”
“Then why?” you press, your voice shaking now. “If I’m so important to you, why do you keep lying and sneaking around? What’s the point?”
He sighs again, louder this time, like he’s tired of this conversation before it’s even really begun. “I don’t know, okay? I get restless sometimes. I’m not…thinking when I do it.” His thumb brushes over the back of your hand, a small, almost absent-minded gesture that makes your heart clench. “It’s not like I’m trying to hurt you. I’m really not, baby. And It doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”
His hand tightens around yours, grounding you in the moment, and for a second, you almost feel comforted.
Almost.
But then, like a flash, the memory hits you—sharp, vivid, paralyzing.
The pain shoots through your wrist all over again, that awful, sickening crunch echoing in your ears. You’re back in the ER, the blinding white lights overhead making your eyes burn, your head pounding as you sit there, staring at the sterile walls. You’d made up some story, but the nurse looked right through you, her eyes filled with pity.
You remember how you sat there, waiting, your body aching but your mind empty, not even able to cry a single tear. Just numb. Completely detached from yourself, like you were watching it all from the outside.
You remember the young doctor, the one who stitched you up. His voice was light, conversational, doing his best to distract you from the deep gash in your wrist. He told you about how his daughter had just started kindergarten that day. How proud and terrified he and his wife were, how they’d taken a hundred pictures of her in her little backpack. How she was such a happy, bright girl, full of curiosity and excitement.
You could barely listen, but you remember the way his voice softened when he said, “I just hope she always knows how loved she is.”
That was the part that stuck with you.
The way his voice cracked just slightly when he said it, like he was imagining all the ways the world could break her. How someone could end up hurting her like someone hurt you. And as you sat there, the needle pulling your skin back together, all you could think about was how far away that feeling was—how you had no idea what it felt like to be that loved, that safe.
You swallow hard, looking down at your intertwined hands. “You’ve said that before, you know. When you drove me home from the hospital.” Your voice is soft, almost too quiet, but the accusation is there.
Simon stiffens. His grip loosens slightly, and you can see the flicker of guilt in his eyes, but it’s the kind of guilt that runs shallow, just skimming the surface. His jaw clenches, and he pulls his hand away.
“I thought you were over that,” he mutters. 
You stare at him for a moment, then let out a soft, bitter laugh. “Yeah, sure,” you say with a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You hold out your hand to him, the small scar visible on your wrist, faded but undeniable. “Totally over it. Look, it’s almost like it never happened.”
Simon’s face falters as he hesitates, then takes your hand gently, his thumb brushing over the scar as though trying to erase it with that simple touch.
“I wasn’t right that night,” he murmurs, his eyes locked on your hand before you pull away. “You know I’m not…I wasn’t right.”
You chuckle and take the joint from him. “Yeah, I know.”
He’s silent beside you, his fingers twitching like he wants to reach for you again but doesn’t know how. You can feel his eyes on you, heavy with unspoken words, but you don’t look at him. Instead, you take a slow drag from the joint, letting the smoke fill your lungs.
“I’m not doing that anymore,” Simon says quietly.
You don’t respond. You don’t even look at him. You smoke in silence, absentmindedly rubbing over a faded bruise on your leg.
“The past few months were nice, weren’t they?” Simon’s voice cuts through the silence, tentative, like he’s testing the waters. “I mean, we were fine, right? You were happy?”
You nod, exhaling slowly as the smoke leaves your lips. “I was happy, yeah.”
“Then let’s go back to that. I don’t wanna fall asleep without you in my arms again.” He moves closer, his hand reaching for your chin, gripping it gently, so you’ll look at him. His eyes are wide, pleading, the same look he always gives you when he’s trying to pull you back in. “I’m sorry for hurting you.”
Which time?
“Hey, I mean it.” He turns your head back, his grip tighter now. “I’m trying to be better for you, I really am. Just…tell me what you want me to do to make it right and I’ll do it. Anything.” 
“You know, I never wanted you to become a better person for me, Simon,” you say softly, removing his hand from your chin, and letting it fall to his side. “I wanted you to look in the mirror, and realize that you’re a fucking asshole, and change for yourself. I wanted you to realize you’re turning into the very man you always told me you’d rather die than become.”
He stares at you for a moment, then shakes his head as the mask he so carefully wears is slipping. “You love doing this, don’t you?” he mutters. “Pushing, prodding, trying to make me feel like shit.”
You curl your arms around your legs, pulling them close to your chest, your voice calm. “If the shoe fits…”
“Oh, really?” he scoffs, his voice dripping with venom. “You think you’re so much fucking better than me, don’t you? Well, let me tell you this, princess. You’re not as fucking perfect as you think you are, and if you think other people can’t see that, you’re hallucinating.”
“I don’t think I’m perfect, Simon. I wouldn’t be here if I did.” Your voice is softer than you intend, like the weed is suppressing your strength to yell. “I wouldn’t be here if I did.”
“Then why the fuck are you here if you hate me so much?”
“‘Cause I’m an idiot.” You bring the joint to your lips and inhale deeply. “I’m an idiot who can’t let go. ‘Cause I still think you could be better if you just tried. If you stopped listening to your friends, if you stopped drinking, if you stopped blaming me for every shitty thing that’s happened to you in the last five years.”
He’s shaking his head before you even finish. “I don’t do that.”
“Yes, you do.”
“And your solution is to just up and leave without telling me where you are? Very mature.”
You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “I can’t talk to you, Simon. Every time I try, it’s like I’m talking to a wall.”
“You could talk to me if you actually wanted to,” he snaps back. “But it fits your narrative better when you can storm out, make your big scene, and go enjoy your little power trip. That’s what you do, right? It’s easier than actually being a grown-up and talking things out with me.”
“You’re delusional,” you mutter, brow furrowed.
“I’m delusional?” Simon’s laugh is hollow, his eyes flashing. “Yeah, right. I think you’re the one who’s lost it.”
You feel the words leaving his mouth before he even says them, the familiar sting of what’s next, and it’s like watching a car crash in slow motion. “Like you’re any better than me. Look who the fuck’s talking. Her mother’s daughter.”
There it is. The blow he always lands when he’s desperate to hit you where it hurts.
It’s his ace, the easiest way to throw you off-balance, to bring you down to the level where you feel vulnerable and he can control the conversation again.
You feel an old pain rising to the surface, but instead of letting it show, you smile. It’s not a real smile, but a small, knowing curve of your lips, the kind that hides everything you refuse to let him see. You’re not taking the bait this time.
“She had to go to the hospital again,” you murmur, your eyes on the joint as you bring it to your lips for one last drag. Then, you stub it out on the curb, watching the ember fade. “Thanks for asking.”
Simon’s face falls, the sharp edge of his anger crumbling away. “Shit, babe, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to–”
“Oh, you know,” you cut him off with a casual shrug. “It is what it is.”
“Why didn’t you–”
“‘Cause you were balls deep in a goddamn stripper, Simon,” you interrupt, your voice cold and flat. “I can’t rely on you.”
His face twists in frustration, but his eyes soften, and if you weren’t as high as you are, you’d see the little lines of guilt written all over his face. He reaches out to touch your shoulder, his hand hovering for a second before he gently rests it there.
“Baby, you know you can rely on me,” he says softly. “We have our problems, sure, but I always have your back.”
You roll your eyes, but he presses on, his voice earnest. “Look me in the eye and tell me it’s not true.”
Your eyes meet his. You know exactly what he’s referring to.
That one thing he holds onto as proof, as his trump card, the one time he truly came through for you when it mattered most. The time you thought you’d lose everything. If it’s not your histrionic mother he uses against you, it’s this.
“You can’t hold that over my head for the rest of my life,” you say, your voice steady but sharp. “You don’t get to help me when I need you most and then throw it in my face every time things get hard. That’s not how this works.”
His hand falls from your shoulder. He knows you’re right, but he doesn’t want to admit it. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I’m agitated. I don’t know what I’m saying.”
He shifts uncomfortably beside you, his fingers twitching in his lap as he glances away. When he finally speaks, his voice is quieter, hesitant. “Is she gonna be alright?”
You nod, but there’s no relief in it. “Mhm.” 
There’s a long pause, heavy and suffocating, like an unseen barrier between you two. The night air is crisp, and your bare legs peeking out beneath your skirt are starting to get cold. Simon breaks the silence first.
“Baby, look at me. Please.” 
You blink slowly, your eyes struggling to focus as everything around you starts to blur. The edges of Simon’s face seem to dissolve into the night, his features soft and indistinct, almost like he’s not really there. But you find him again, his eyes, his nose, his lips, his disheveled hair. He looks…lost. It’s rare to see him this vulnerable, this unsure.
How beautiful.
“Can we go home?”
You don’t hear him, not really. All you hear is the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor echoing in your ears. It’s distant but persistent, a steady pulse that reminds you of things you’d rather forget. Then, a disembodied voice, calmly announcing that, “This could have been prevented. This is your fault.”
The words float through your mind, circling, wrapping tighter and tighter around you.
“Baby?”
You try to focus on Simon’s face again, but it’s hard to think, hard to find the words. Everything feels slow, muffled, like you’re moving underwater.
“I have to go,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, like the words are slipping away from you even as you say them.
He tenses up immediately, his brow furrowing. “What do you mean, ‘go’?”
“It means I’m tired, Simon. It means I can’t do this anymore.”
The silence that follows is deafening, like the world has suddenly come to a standstill, waiting for the inevitable fallout. You can practically feel Simon’s frustration pulsing off him.
But as you tilt your head, your gaze wandering over his face, the familiar lines of anger are there, yes. But beneath that, hidden in the set of his shoulders, in the way his hands rest uncertainly in his lap, you can sense something different. Fear. Real fear that this time, you might actually mean it. That this time, you might actually leave.
He doesn’t say anything as you stand up, your legs trembling beneath you, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst out of your chest. The world spins around you, dizzying, your vision blurred, and you stumble. Instinctively, Simon reaches out, steadying you with his hand.
But you shove him away immediately, your skin burning where his fingers brushed yours. You can’t let him touch you right now. If he touches you, you know you’ll crumble. You know you’ll fall back into his orbit like you always do.
And you may just be unable to afford that anymore.
But then, like a shadow moving through the haze of your high, Simon is suddenly in front of you—close, too close. His presence is disorienting, his words pouring over you before you can even process the distance he’s just closed.
“You don’t mean it,” he says, low and sure, like a statement of fact, as if he’s already decided this for you. His eyes lock onto yours, and it feels like you’re sinking into them, the pull of him as strong as ever, like gravity. He knows how to make you feel small, like your words hold no weight next to his certainty.
“I love you,” he whispers, and the tenderness in his voice makes you shiver, even though your mind screams for you to stay strong. His words wrap around you, weaving through the cracks in your resolve. His face is so close now, his breath warm against your skin, and you can’t tell if it’s the weed or the way he’s looking at you, but everything feels…slower. Softer. Like you’re slipping into a warm, dangerous comfort.
“You know how much I love you, don’t you? Yeah, I messed up, I know I did. But don’t let this ruin us. We’re too good together for that.” His voice is so gentle, hypnotic…irresistible.
“Simon…”
He steps even closer, the space between you disappearing as his hands find yours. His touch is warm, grounding, and despite the cold night air biting at your skin, his presence feels like shelter. He squeezes your hands softly, and your heart stumbles over itself.
“Don’t walk away from me,” he whispers, pleading. “Don’t walk away from us. We’re not perfect, but we belong together. You’re my family, baby. You’re all I have in this godforsaken world. You’re the only person who’s ever made me feel like I matter…like I deserve love.”
It’s incredible, really, how easily he can break you down, how he can strip away all your defenses with just a few words. He knows exactly which buttons to push, how to weave his need for you into something that feels like love, something that feels like safety—even though you should know better.
He sees it, too. He sees the way your resolve falters, the way your eyes flicker with that familiar softness, and a satisfied smile curls on his lips. He knows he’s got you. He always knows when he’s won.
“C’mere,” he says gently, his hands sliding up your arms, pulling you toward him, and despite every instinct telling you to run, you let him. You let him hold you, let him wrap his arms around you like a protective shield against the world.
Your body sinks into his, your cheek resting against his chest, and you can hear the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your ear. Each beat is a rhythm you’ve known for years, one that’s soothed you through your darkest moments, even as it’s caused some of them. His scent wraps around you, familiar and intoxicating, like the remnants of a home you’re desperate to return to. You let yourself drown in the warmth of him, in his steady presence that has helped you through so much. His hand strokes the back of your head, his touch soft, soothing.
It’s messed up how right it feels.
How comforting it is to be here in his arms, even when your heart is breaking inside.
“I love you,” Simon whispers again, his breath warm against your temple. “I’m so sorry for everything. I’m so fucking sorry. But you’re all I have, babe. I need you.”
You close your eyes, biting back the sob that threatens to escape. His words seep into your skin, and you want so desperately to believe him. 
You love him. God, do you love him. Even when it hurts. Even when it breaks you. And right now, with his arms around you, you miss him so deeply it feels like a hollow ache in your chest. You don’t want to be without him. He’s the only thing that’s ever felt like family to you. The only person who knows all your scars, all your flaws, and still pulls you close.
“I need you too,” you whisper, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. It’s the truth, as ugly as it is.
Simon holds you tighter, his arms enveloping you, and for now, you let yourself sink into the comfort of it. Into the warmth of his embrace, into the way his hand rubs slow circles on your back like he’s trying to erase all the hurt, all the broken pieces between you.
You let him tell you he loves you, let him soothe you with his words, let him promise you the world, even though deep down, you know you’ll both end up in the same place again.
And before you know it, you’re slipping into the passenger seat, the door closing behind you with a soft, final click.
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“You okay, darlin’?”
Joel’s voice pulls you back, the deep rumble of his question cutting through the fog of memories clouding your mind.
You blink, taking in the familiar interior of his car, the hum of the road beneath the tires, the soft glow of the dashboard lights illuminating his profile. The past feels too close, too heavy, pressing on your chest like you’re still stuck in it. But Joel is here, real and solid next to you, grounding you in the present.
“Yeah,” you answer quietly, your voice a little rougher than you mean for it to be. “Just tired.”
You see him glance over at you, concern evident in his eyes, but he doesn’t push. Not this time. He’s trying his hardest not to pry, not when he knows you need space. He just nods and keeps his eyes on the road, his hand resting on the gearshift, close but not touching.
“We’re almost there,” he says after a beat, his voice gentle, steady—so different from the frantic beat of your heart.
You nod, staring out the window at the darkened streets passing by. It’s quiet this late at night, and the drive back to your place feels longer than it should. The weight of the past few days lingers like a shadow, gnawing at the edges of your mind, making it hard to breathe. 
You can still see Laura’s hand on her bump, the way her sad eyes looked at you like you were in the wrong. You can feel Simon’s arms around you, the way he pulled you in even when you should’ve pushed him away. The way you couldn’t help but let him.
But you’re not that person anymore. This is different. Joel’s different.
Your stomach churns, a wave of nausea rising so suddenly it feels like the world tilts. You grip your bandaged hand tighter, shift in your seat, trying to breathe through it, but the sensation intensifies. You can taste the bitterness of the meds in your mouth, the stress squeezing your chest like a vice as cold sweat starts spreading on your skin. The movement of the car only makes it worse, and you know what’s coming.
“Joel…” you manage, your voice strained, barely above a whisper. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”
“Huh?” His head snaps toward you, eyes widening with concern as he sees how uncomfortable you are. “Shit. Hang on.”
Without hesitation, he tightens his grip on the steering wheel and scans the street for a place to pull over. It’s late, but the road is still lined with parked cars, neon signs glowing from nearby buildings. Finally, he spots a small gap along the curb. He turns on his blinker and slows down, smoothly guiding you toward the side of the street.
You fumble desperately with the seatbelt, your fingers trembling and uncoordinated as nausea hits you like a wave. Before you can manage it yourself, Joel leans over, his hands quick but gentle as he clicks the seat belt free. “Here,” he murmurs, and the moment the belt retracts, you’re already reaching for the door handle.
The second the door is open, you lurch out onto the sidewalk, the city air thick with petrichor from the short downpour that made you leave the beach earlier. The nausea hits hard, and you bend over, retching violently onto the pavement. It’s mostly bile, bitter and burning in your throat, and each wave of sickness feels like it’s tearing through your body. You grip the door for support, your hands shaking, your body trembling from the sheer force of it.
You hate this. The vulnerability, the pain, the utter helplessness of it all.
Joel moves quietly, reaching into the glove compartment for tissues. He doesn’t crowd you, just watches carefully, his expression tight with worry. He’s there, but giving you the space you need. After grabbing the tissues, he steps out of the car, making his way around to the back. You can hear him rummaging in the trunk, though your focus remains on trying not to accidentally cough up your lungs. 
“Goddamnit,” you choke out, your voice strained as another wave of nausea forces the last of the bile from your body. It burns, raw and painful, your whole frame trembling as you lean over. Joel is next to you, hovering, trying to be there, but keeping his distance. 
“I hate this,” you whine dramatically, your head pounding as you try catching your breath. 
Once you feel like the worst is over and your stomach is settling, you straighten up and look at Joel through watery eyes. He’s smiling at you sympathetically, taking a step closer to wipe your mouth and chin with a couple of tissues.
You’re about to tell him not to touch you, but the concentrated look on his face and the deft but gentle motion of his fingers put you in a trance. He’s cleaned your mouth and wiped away your tears before you could even say anything.  
“Do you remember how hot I looked in that short red dress?” you murmur, furrowing your brow at the unexpected pain coming from your sore throat. 
“Yeah, how could I not?” Joel chuckles as he opens and hands you the water bottle he had waiting for you in his back pocket.
“Good,” you nod before swishing a mouthful of water, and spitting it out onto the concrete away from you. You take another sip, letting it cool your throat before you cap the bottle and look into Joel’s eyes. “I want you to think of that really hard and forget everything you just saw, okay?”
He just smiles at you, touching your shoulder with his warm hand. “Sweetheart, you’re vastly underestimating my attraction to you. You think a little puke’s gonna deter me? If you weren’t in pain, I’d kiss you no problem.” The way his eyebrow automatically twitches makes you roll your eyes. But it also warms your heart. 
“You’re disgusting,” you say, trying your hardest not to smile. 
“Says the girl who wiped snot off my face and kissed me while I was sweaty and gross after rolling around in bed with a fever. Guess we’re both disgusting, then.” 
“Hm,” is all you manage to get out, a tiny smirk on your face, but it falters just as quickly as you suddenly feel like you’re going to throw up again. 
“No, no, no, please, no,” you murmur, terrified, clutching the open car door for dear life. Your body tenses up, desperate to avoid another wave of sickness. You can’t do this again.
“I’m right here,” Joel whispers softly, his hand coming to rest on your back. He begins rubbing slow, soothing circles, his touch gentle and steady. There's a hint of helplessness in his voice, as if he wishes he could do more, but knows this is all he can offer right now. “It’s okay, just breathe.”
You focus on his hand, the warmth of it cutting through the cold sweat covering your skin. The nausea grips you, but Joel’s steady touch draws you back, grounding you. Your breath steadies, and when the sickness passes, you focus on the warmth of his hand, his touch comforting in a way you didn’t expect.
You’re usually not one for people being around, let alone touching you, when you’re vulnerable like this. The only time you’d allow anyone to get this close is during sex. But that’s different. Especially with Joel.
No one else gets to do the things he does with you. Not that you’ve ever admitted that to him.
He’s seen you at your most unguarded—tied up with your ankles behind your ears, covered in sweat, drooling, crying, bruised from his hands, begging for release, and confessing all the depraved things you’d let him do to you if he’d just finally let you come. He’s seen you laid bare, stripped down to nothing but raw desire and submission. And in those moments, there’s nothing but trust and desire between you two.
It’s freeing. Being able to let go of your body and mind so completely.
But this?
The idea of Joel witnessing you vomiting bile on the side of a dingy city street while your hand is bandaged, your face contorted, and your body shaking like you’ve been dragged through hell…
Not good. Especially after what happened.
You don’t know how to navigate this new territory with him, and the last thing you want is for him to see you weak like this. Not when you’re already feeling fragile.
You’re embarrassed, your cheeks burning from the humiliation of it all. You know this moment will haunt you on sleepless nights when your mind drags up every cringe-worthy memory. But right now, there’s an unexpected comfort in knowing he’s here.
“I think it’s over,” you say quietly, almost afraid to voice it, half-expecting your body to betray you again just because you dared to say it out loud. But it doesn’t. The nausea ebbs away, leaving only exhaustion in its wake. It’s over.
“Okay,” he murmurs, his voice low and reassuring. “Just take your time. Don’t rush it.”
You inhale deeply, drawing in the cool night air. The city smells faintly of petrichor and there’s a soft hum from the distant traffic, cars rolling by on the nearby streets. It all feels surreal, like the world is far away from the small bubble you and Joel are in.
The steady circles he traces on your back continue, grounding you further. You let your eyes close for a moment, soaking in the calm of the moment.
“I’m sorry,” you mutter, not looking at him.
He shakes his head, his brow furrowed in worry. “You got nothing to be sorry for. Do you think you’re okay to go on now?”
You nod and swallow hard, the sting in your throat making you wince. You manage a weak, half-hearted smile, though the world still feels off-kilter. “Yeah, I think so. But if I start dry-heaving again, just do us both a favor and push me out of the moving car, okay?”
He smirks, his lips curling in that familiar, teasing way. “As if I could ever deny you something,” he says softly, his humor not quite hiding the concern in his eyes. “Let’s get you home, darlin’.”
He pauses, like he wants to say more, his mouth opening slightly as if searching for the right words, but he holds back. Instead, he just watches you carefully as you make your way back into the passenger seat, waiting until you’re settled before gently closing the door behind you.
You lean your head back against the seat, eyes half-lidded, the weight of everything pressing down on you like a heavy blanket as you continue your way home.
The words are there, inside you, loud, persistent, trying to break free; but you can’t. Where would you even start? What’s the point in revealing more of yourself? What good could come from it?
Nothing. That’s what.
Nothing.
You watch the city lights blur outside the window, your thoughts darker than the night. Your life feels like it’s crumbling, piece by piece, slipping through your fingers no matter how hard you try to hold on. And once again, you know—deep down—it’s your own doing. It always is. No matter how many times you try to make things right, it always ends up the same way.
When Joel finally parks in front of your apartment building, the car idles quietly, and he takes a moment to gather his thoughts. You can feel him looking at you, trying to find the right words. You don’t move, your mind still preoccupied with your own self-doubt.
“We’re here,” Joel says, a soft smile on his lips. He’s trying, you can tell, but you’re too far gone, too lost in your own spiral. When you don’t respond, his smile falters, but he presses on, determined to lift the weight between you.
“I was thinking…” he begins, his voice light. “I could cook for you tomorrow if you’re up for it? I remember I owe you a nice dinner, and no, it’s not just frozen pizza this time. It’s a frozen pizza with a side salad.”
He grins, hoping to coax a smile out of you, some kind of response. But you don’t laugh. You don’t even crack a smile.
Joel clears his throat and shifts slightly in his seat, his fingers drumming anxiously on the steering wheel. He’s trying to pull you out of whatever hole you’ve fallen into, but you can’t meet him halfway. You don’t have the strength.
He looks at you, his heart sinking as he takes in your sad, distant eyes. It’s like you’re not really here, like you’ve drifted somewhere far away, unreachable. How he wishes he could climb inside your mind and pull out whatever it is that’s weighing so heavily on you, take the burden for himself.
“Darlin’?” he repeats softly.
You blink, refocusing, but the smile you give him doesn’t reach your eyes. “Hm?”
“Can I cook for you tomorrow? You could come over to mine after work, or I can come here. Whatever you prefer.” There’s a hopeful smile on his face, a softness in his gaze, and the way he looks at you, almost like a puppy waiting for a treat, makes your stomach twist painfully.
You remember the dinner with Tommy and Maria, cursing yourself silently for agreeing to go. It’s not that you don’t love them—you do—but the thought of sitting through that dinner, of having that conversation with Tommy, feels like a nightmare.
“I can’t tomorrow.”
Joel’s smile falters the slightest bit, but he remains undeterred. “How about Saturday? I’ll plan something nice for us. Something I know you’ll love.”
Oh no.
You want to say it so badly it physically hurts.
You’ve been better, haven’t you? Over the past year or so. You’ve tried—really tried—to keep your cool, to express your feelings in a healthy way, or at least something close to it. You’ve worked hard to stop falling into that old mentality where uncomfortable emotions make you feel cornered and you end up lashing out. You’ve made progress. 
You’re not the same person you used to be. He’s not Simon. You don’t act like this anymore. You’ve outgrown this. Don’t do it. Don’t say–
“You’re free on a Saturday?” 
Joel blinks, the confusion clear on his face. “Yeah, like always when I’m not working,” he says, unsure where this is coming from.
“Oh,” you murmur. “Would’ve thought you already had plans with your, uh…with Jan.”
How subtle.
“I’m not planning on seeing her again,” Joel says simply.
You glance at him. “You should probably tell her that. Didn’t really seem like she knew when she was fondling you under the table.”
Joel exhales deeply and shifts slightly, turning his body toward you, trying to make sure you hear him. “I did tell her, and she does know,” he says firmly. His gaze softens as he looks at you, his voice gentler now. “Sweetheart…I’m not gonna pursue anything with her. And I wouldn’t have agreed to the date if I’d known it would hurt you.”
You shake your head, not wanting to let the conversation go where it’s headed, your thumb rubbing over your wrist brace. “Can we please not talk about this right now?” you murmur, your voice tight, barely holding it together. “I’m sorry for bringing it up. Thank you for driving me home, I’ll see you– “
“I didn’t sleep with her,” Joel interrupts, his voice firm. “We had a good time, but that’s it.”
You blink, furrowing your brow and tilting your head slightly as his words begin to sink in. He watches you, waiting for your response, but when it doesn’t come, he shifts again, trying to close the distance.
“Hey,” Joel says softly, reaching for your left hand, his fingers gently wrapping around yours. He rubs your skin with his thumb, more to soothe himself than you. “I didn’t sleep with her.”
He searches your face, waiting for a reaction, any reaction. But you just sit there, unmoved, your expression frozen in place. There’s no relief, no anger, no hint of anything. Just…nothing.
The silence stretches, and Joel’s heart sinks. He doesn’t know exactly what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this. Maybe he thought you’d smile, maybe he even hoped you’d fall into his arms, that this would be the moment things would start to feel okay again. But you’re distant, your face unreadable.
His eyes scan yours, searching desperately for something to hold on to, and what he finds hits him like a punch to the gut.
“You don’t believe me.”
You meet his eyes for just a second longer, a sad smile tugging at the corners of your lips before you nervously look away and whisper, “Look, I’m, uh– I’m extremely tired right now and this close to crying, so I’m gonna go upstairs and call it a night, okay?”
But Joel doesn’t let go of your hand. His grip tightens, just a little, his voice strained. “You really don’t believe me. You think I’m lying to you.”
“I don’t– Can we please do this another time?”
“I’d love to, but I feel like it’s important that we–” 
“Joel.”
“–get this sorted out, so you don’t–”
“Joel, please.”
“–keep on thinking I’m a liar. I didn’t know you thought that ab–”
“Jesus Christ,” you snap, your voice trembling with frustration, “don’t you hear what I’m saying?” Without waiting for a response, you push open the car door and step out, the cool air hitting your skin. “I can’t fucking do this right now.”
The door slams shut behind you with a hard thud, cutting through the quiet of the parking lot.
Joel watches you for a moment, taken aback, then quickly follows, stepping out of the car. His eyes are full of concern, his brow furrowed as he watches you pace, but his voice is calm, steady, trying to reach you.
“Darlin’, I do hear you,” he says, taking a cautious step closer. “And I’m sorry, we don’t have to talk about it right now, I just…”
You spin around, exasperated. “You just what?”
“I just wanna know that you’re okay.”
“I’m fine, Joel,” you say, rubbing your temples. “Why in the world wouldn’t I be?”
He opens his mouth, trying to form a response, but before he can say anything, you cut him off, the words spilling out like a dam breaking.
“But it doesn’t even matter, okay? It doesn’t matter if I’m fine or not. I don’t have time to think about it.” Your voice cracks slightly, your throat constricting as you try to keep control. “Because now I gotta get to bed, so I can go to the office early tomorrow, ‘cause afterwards I’ll be sitting at a table with Tommy, who probably fucking hates me now. Do you have any idea how much that fucking sucks?”
Your voice lowers, the vulnerability creeping in despite your efforts to hold it back. “What if he…doesn’t want me in his life anymore?”
Joel shakes his head, vehemently. “Darlin’, that’s nonsense. He’s not mad at you. If anything, he’s mad at me. And I’m sorry for not asking you first, but you gotta understand that I was worried about you and thought this was the best solution.”
“Oh sure, yeah,” you scoff, bitterness lacing your words. “You know so much fucking better than I do. That’s it, right? Yeah, of course. Don’t you get how fucking weird this all is? It’s exactly what I was afraid of. You all talking about me behind my back, pitying me, judging me, and figuring out that you’re better off without me. That I’m not who you thought I was. That I’m not able to give you what you want.”
Joel hears the panic in your voice like he did yesterday, the way it’s rising, how your words are becoming more frantic. He gets the sense you’re not hearing him anymore, not really. You’re caught up in your own head, lost in the whirlwind of your fears. His mind flashes back to Tommy’s words. He can see it now, the way your frustration, your hurt is morphing into something darker, more overwhelming.
God, how he wishes he could just pull you into his arms right now. Hold you, protect you from the weight of everything that’s crushing you. But he knows, deep down, that he’s part of that weight. 
No matter how good his intentions might have been. 
“That’s not what happened at all,” Joel says, his voice calm, measured, even though his heart is racing. “We didn’t talk about you like that. I just needed Tommy to help me figure out where you might be, and I’m so glad he did. It was nice…sitting with you, holding your hand…”
You shake your head. “Good night, Joel.”
“Look, I– I know you’re going through something right now that makes you think I’m insincere,” he blurts out, “but I need you to know that I’m really just trying to help you.”
Your body stiffens, his words hitting a nerve. “I don’t need you to help me,” you snap. “I don’t wanna be your little damsel in distress, that’s not who I am.”
Joel flinches at the bite in your words, but he doesn’t back down. “I know that. And that’s not how I see you. I know you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself.” He pauses, his eyes searching yours, desperate for you to understand.
“But allowing help from the people who love us isn’t about being weak or incapable. You may not see it right now, but I’m on your side. And if anyone’s weak it’s me, ‘cause I can’t stand seeing you in pain like this.”
You sigh deeply and murmur, “I’m gonna go now,” your voice flat as you turn toward your apartment.
Joel steps forward cautiously, not wanting to push too hard, but he can’t just let you walk away without saying more. “I get it, it’s all too much. But please, just…don’t shut me out, okay? Call me if you need anything. Doesn’t matter if it’s the middle of the night. I’ll be here.”
You swallow hard, feeling the weight of his promise, but you’re too drained to respond. All you can do is nod.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he says softly, his voice full of regret. “I wish I could take some of this off you, make it easier somehow. But I’m not leaving, alright? Not now, not ever. ”
You nod again, your throat too tight to speak, and turn away, walking toward your apartment. Joel watches you go with his hands falling uselessly to his sides, his heart heavy, knowing there’s so much left unsaid, but hoping—praying—you’ll let him know when you’re ready.
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Wow, well done.
Sitting on your sofa, you stare blankly at the black TV as the silence of your apartment settles around you, your mind already starting its cruel commentary.
That’s for sure going to make him think you’re a mentally stable person. No, seriously, why wouldn’t he want to be with you?
The thought twists inside you like a knife, but you can’t help it. The voice in your head is relentless, mocking your every move, dissecting your behavior from earlier.
You think you’re slick, don’t you? Pushing him away so you don’t have to face your feelings. Aren’t we way past that?
You sigh deeply as if that would quiet the storm inside you, but it doesn’t. Your self-reproach lingers, heavy and biting.
Still, you drag yourself to the kitchen, forcing yourself to eat a few bites of the leftover pasta sitting in your fridge. It’s tasteless, going down like sandpaper, but you know you need something in your stomach before you can take the painkillers. Your body aches, every muscle tensing under the weight of the unresolved strain still coiled within you.
You wash the food and the pills down with iced tea, grateful for the cold sweetness, because water turns your stomach right now. The pasta, the tea, they’re just fuel—a necessary evil before you can move on and hopefully find some peace in your sleep.
After you’ve eaten, you strip off your clothes and step into the shower, letting the hot water rush over you. You stand there for a while, eyes closed, trying to wash away everything. Joel’s concerned face, the hurt, the frustration, the embarrassment of how you acted. You let the water pound against your skin, hoping it’ll somehow cleanse more than just the sweat and grime from the day.
When you finally step out, you feel a little more like yourself, a little more human. Still shaky, but better. 
By the time you crawl into bed, exhaustion drags you down like an anchor. You pull the blankets tight around you, hoping to find some comfort even though the dread of the day ahead lingers. Your phone is already in your hand, and you pull up Netflix, choosing something mindless to drown out the sound of your own thoughts. The chatter of the show hums in the background, but your mind barely registers it.
Your eyes grow heavier with each passing minute, and the warmth of your bed starts to pull you toward sleep. Everything starts to blur as the fatigue takes over.
But then, just as you’re about to drift off, your propped up phone vibrates loudly against the bedside lamp. The screen lights up, a small notification appearing at the top.
Joel Miller.
Your heart skips a beat, a strange mix of relief and anxiety rising in your chest. You blink away the sleep and swipe the notification open.
It’s a voice message, and the length—four minutes—makes your heart sink. You’re not sure you can handle whatever it is he has to say right now. It feels too heavy, too soon.
Your finger hovers over the play button, your mind running wild with possibilities.
What if something happened to him? What if he’s telling you he doesn’t want to see you anymore? What if you scared him off for good? Why else would the message be so long?
Before you can spiral further, another notification pops up.
Joel: Sleep well, baby 😘 
You blink, staring at his message, and you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. He’s being sweet. Maybe this isn’t what you’re bracing for.
You take a deep breath, your heart still beating a little too fast, and press play.
At first, there’s a small pause, like he’s gathering his thoughts. Then you hear his voice coming through the speaker, soft and gentle, the familiar rasp of it cutting through the quiet of your bedroom.
“Hi darlin’. It’s me, Joel…Miller…obviously.” 
Your smile widens. He’s such a dork.
“I know it’s late…and you’re probably already in bed. But I, uh…I wanted to say something. I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I didn’t want you to go to sleep without hearing this.”
He sounds like he always does, calm, collected, but he’s being careful with his words. You shift under the covers, feeling more awake now, your body attuned to every note in his voice.
“I know you’ve been going through a lot on your own, and I don’t wanna make it worse by pushing or prying where I shouldn’t. But I just want you to know…I’m here. I’m here for you, no matter what. You don’t have to handle it alone, okay?”
There’s a small pause, and you hear him exhale, like he’s letting go of something he’s been holding in for too long.
“I don’t know if I always say the right things, and God knows I’ve messed up plenty…but you mean a lot to me. More than I can put into words right now. And I, uh, don’t expect you to have all the answers. Hell, I don’t even know if I do. But I wanna be there with you, figure it out together…if you’ll let me.”
Another deep breath.
“You’re never not on my mind, sweetheart, and I just…wish you could see yourself the way I see you. I felt it the first time I saw you, you know? You stood there, the prettiest girl I’d ever seen. And then you looked into my eyes. You looked into my eyes and that was it for me.”
Joel’s voice softens even more, almost like he’s afraid you’ll drift off before he’s finished. “I was thinking about Saturday, too. I got something in mind that I think’ll be good for both of us. Nothing big, just…I think you’ll like it.”
There’s a brief silence on the line as if he’s gathering himself, and then you hear it—the faint strum of a guitar. Your breath catches in your throat.
He’s playing for you.
His voice, low and gentle, hums the opening notes of a country tune you’ve never heard before. The sound drifts over you, warm and comforting, like being wrapped in a blanket of soft clouds and something that feels like home.
You close your eyes, letting the music take you, and as Joel begins to sing, his voice carries a depth of emotion that reaches deep inside you. The lyrics flow, full of a quiet tenderness, and you sink into the sound, letting it wash away your troubles:
“I’m just a lonesome traveler, Drifting down this road, But darlin’, when I’m near you, I know I’m not alone.”
You just listen, your heart swelling with the softness of it, with the fact that Joel is doing this for you. Never in a million years did you see this coming. 
The song continues, the melody sweet and simple, his voice lulling you further into a sense of calm. It feels like everything else fades away—the weight of your past, the uncertainty of the future—and all that’s left is this moment, this gentle connection between you and him.
As he reaches the end of the song, his voice drops to an almost-whisper:
“But darlin’, when I hold you, I know I’ve found my home.”
The final note lingers in the air of your bedroom, and for a moment, you just lie there, your heart full, your body completely relaxed. You can barely keep your eyes open now, the edges of sleep tugging at you.
Still, you gather all of your remaining energy to text him back. You need to.
You: I’ll bring snacks on Saturday
You: Ever thought about switching careers btw? Cowboy boots, a hat and you’d make a fortune. Groupies, fame, rich old ladies letting you run wild with their credit cards…
You’ve barely pressed send when Joel responds. 
Joel: Groupies, huh?
You can practically hear the smirk in his voice. Another buzz.
Joel: Nah, sweetheart. My music comes from the heart. It’s only for the people I love. Not for anyone else.
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gilverrwrites · 4 hours
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at this point we should give dick a sionis!reader and call it a day 💀 all the batboys have one now except for him (but I have no idea what his plot would look like compared to the other three)
Yeah, Jason and Tim dating with his kids and now Bruce sleeping with his ex-wife, Roman’s hatred of them is becoming more and more justified. . Can I also just add that Roman would be the most miserable girl dad. Imagining him with his 3 bastard girls and ex wife who he's still hung up on but can't win back fills me with joy and its becoming a full on AU in my head.
Anyway, okay, so hear me out with my pitch; Jason/The Rebellious child, Tim/The Favourite child, Dick/The forgotten child
Specifically, one who has tried so hard all their life to not be. Even more specifically, a dancer, a singer, maybe a triple threat. It’s not that you need the attention, you’re good at what you do, you get the parts, you have a small fanbase, you’ve won some minor awards. But just once you’d like to look out into the crowd and see your father or your siblings out there cheering for you.
You try so hard to be supportive of the rest of your family, always there for everybody. You listen to your rebellious sibling and your father bitch about each other constantly, you help them mend their bridges. Rebel is notoriously flaky, but you always step up and cover for them.
You help the favourite study. You were the only one who knew when they started seeing Tim and you helped keep it a secret.
You attend all your fathers parole hearings, all his club launches. You wear the stupid clothes and play the happy, smiling child whenever he wants to show his kids off at events.
But no matter how much you do for everyone, they never return the favour. As soon as you bring up an audition you need help with or a new show you’re in, everybody dips. Nobody takes you up on the free tickets you can get them. When you were training, Roman footed the bills and told all his buddies about his kid the dancer/singer/whatever, but not once did he show up to a single one of your recitals.
But one day, at one of his stupid galas, Dick Grayson catches you dancing by yourself on the patio outside and is instantly smitten.
“Where’s your dance partner?”
“Oh, haha. Can’t you see him? He’s right here.” You jokingly gesture to the air.
“Ah of course, hello sir. Mind if I cut in? Not at all, please be my guest.” He puts on a silly voice as he answers himself before offering a hand to you. “May I?”
And you’re sceptical at first, but you take his hand, and you let him whisk you off. You dance around in circles all evening, laughing and joking, and getting to know each other. You have the night of your life, but dating Dick Grayson seems like a bad idea, it’s not that you don’t want it, it’s just that your dad would so not approve. So, you resolve to move on, but will always remember that magical night.
Until a few weeks later, you step on stage and spot him front and centre in the audience looking elated. And although it's downright euphoric for you to see him there, you're not prepared to face him. Alas, he comes to your dressing room straight after the show anyway. Reaching you before you can sneak out, and confronting you about never calling him back.
You explain your hesitations and that golden child part of his brain understands, his heart aches for you. But he so selfishly wants to see more of you, so he gently mentions how your dad doesn’t seem to care what you do... and hey, maybe he’s out of line here and if you want to tell him to take a hike he will but all he wants is a chance to be a part of your life, can’t you spare him one date? Please?
And damn is he hard to say no too. So, you concede. And one date becomes two, then three, and so on…
It doesn’t take long for you to fall hard and fast for him. C’mon who wouldn’t?
He’s handsome, and charming, funny, smart, and superb dancer to boot.
But what really does it for you is how badly he really does wants to be a part of your life. Dick Grayson wants to dance with you anywhere and everywhere; At galas, in the rain on the way home from a date, in your kitchen at 3AM.
Dick Grayson could listen to you talk about anything and everything all day long. Doesn’t have to be performance related, but he likes it best when it is. He especially loves reminiscing about his circus days with you.
And though his job may get in the way sometimes, Dick Grayson wants to be front row at every single one of your shows. He wants to clap the loudest, and bring you flowers, and tell all of his friends, THAT’S MY BOO up there! From the moment he met you, Dick Grayson could never, ever forget you.
How we feeling about this concept?
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screampied · 2 months
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‘ HIT IT LIKE IT'S ALL MINEEE ?! ★
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𝜗℘ feat. toji, gojo, nanami, geto, sukuna. jjk men as ex boyfriends ‘n how they fuck.
cw. fem! reader, ex bf trope, unprotected, possessive themes, brat taming, p spanking, manhandling, size kink, brēeding, ōral (f! receiving), impact play, degradation, praise, squírting, doggy, mīssionary, mating press, overstim, petnames.
wc. 4.8k
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GETO ☆ the sloppy ex.
“said ‘m sorry,” he’d hiss, watching as your legs voluntarily snake around his neck. geto’s got the most smug grin, pretty batted lashes fluttering as he’s being fed his favorite meal that he’s been craving for so so long..
but he’s not sorry. in fact after every argument, it would always end up like this. he’d always make it up to you by eating you out, savoring your taste and giving you the most toe-curling climax. it was the least he could do, right? scorching hot breaths of his fan against your drooling folds as you sat upright against the edge of the mattress. you’re whining, gripping at his unkempt, black strands tightly as your thighs jitter. “mhm, could never stay away from my girl for too long.”
you vigorously shudder, feeling his crooked, pink lips ghost against your soddened folds. with geto, he was a messy eater. you were the only person who could get him on his knees. “i’m very sorry, pretty,” he whispers against your cunt, lengthy tongue swirling and delving deeper inside. you whimper, your grasp against his hair growing tighter and firmer. his darkened roots rise up from the secure grip and you start to grind against his face. “ohhh, my. seems like you missed me too,” and with three wet kisses pressing onto your swollen entrance, he glances up at you. humming, he swipes his nose against your pussy before lolling his tongue out allll the way to show you how messy he was for you. “or you jus’ missed my tongue, huhhh.”
he was so smug, so fucking smug. even whilst being buried right between your thighs, slurping you up like he hasn’t eaten a proper good meal in ages. “s- sugu,” you moan, your sudden attitude disappearing the moment he whisks his tongue against your nub. his other favorite girl, your eyebrows that was once arched from arguing was now curling together from such calamitous pleasure. he’s so sloppy too, taking every few pausing seconds to spit right into your cunt, lapping it up with his tongue, only to spit right back on it again. “f- fuckin’ hate you.”
“yeah yeah,” he whistles against your cunt unfazed — warm breath tickling against your folds that seep with slick juices. so wet, he pries your legs open even further with two hands before making a sheeny trail of saliva with his long, lengthy tongue licking from top to bottom. he stares dead at you too, dark sable irises never leave yours while he’s enjoying his treat. a free hand creeps between your inner thighs and he starts to ease a single thick finger inside. “i take back my sorry then, baby.”
your back arches - feeling his thickset digit easily soak into your clingy walls. you’re already coating a majority of it with your slick, rutting your hips against his mouth and his finger now. the stretch had you feral.
you despised his sassy mouth, and yet he’s always despised yours. the perfect match. if it was anything you and geto could come to terms with, it was the simple fact that you both craved each other. crave was a strong word, but it was the right word.
“s- suguru, fuck— i feel something, ‘s gonna come,” you babble, feeling an unfamiliar sensation bubble up into the deep pits of your lower abdomen. it felt like an intense, spiraling pressure building up before gradually starting to press down onto you. your jaw drops, feeling like you were about to gush right out. his tongue returns to slurp against you, luxuriating your sweet, syrupy taste as you’re practically just fucking your cunt onto his face. he darkly chuckles, feverish breath going against your dripping folds before he literally makes out with it. “s- suguru did you hear me?”
“oh, i heard ya, baby,” he whispers, another finger vanishing into your tight walls. with black strands of messy hair running all down his face, he french kisses your cunt thrice, groaning at the feeling of you pulsing right on his lips. “i just don’t care,” and your legs shake out of nowhere. you felt like you were floating — cloud nine, all the clouds, you felt like you were flying.
your mouth remains open, stupefied and all. with a squealing gasp, you drag his face further against you before spotting a shimmery trail of your own slick running down his chin. again though, geto doesn’t care. in fact, he licks it clean with no shame, swiping a thumb across the crack of his lips before he starts to spank your pussy. “well?” he eyes you, his voice growing low. “you gonna make a mess or not?” pat. “i’m waiting,” pat. “oh c’monnn, don’t tell me you’re scared ‘ta make a mess. we’ve known each other for how long, princess?”
and before you could reply with a snarky comeback — it happens. you end up gushing right on his face, watching it trickle all down his chin and your eyes roll back in nirvana. everything feels so quick, you’re barely able to breathe regular breaths as your eyes grow droopy and your legs break into a fit of spasms. “suguru, suguuu,” you pant, losing your grip in his hair. and like the sloppy eater he was, he laps your cunt clean. savoring the taste, savoring you.
“did you just squirt on my face?” he rasps, pulling his fingers out to watch the mess dribble straight out. you’re so wet, just a puddle and you were laying right in it. you don’t respond and he rolls his eyes, giving your cunt an ‘encouraging’ swat with his palm before purring. “mhm, how ‘bout you do that again? for old times sake, messy girl.”
TOJI ☆ the nasty ex.
“y’know the drill, babygirl. bend over. uh huh, gimme that slutty arch like always, attaaa girl,” toji grits. intently, hooded green eyes are staring at your back. you moan, feeling just how quickly your body submits. toji could never get enough of you. the second your gummy walls swallow his girth, you suck your teeth in salacious rapture. it’s almost carnal. toji groans, gazing right before his eyes as your back slumps forward just for him ‘n only him. “mhm, good girl. sluttin’ y’rself out all fuckin’ on me.”
the crimson red sheets bristle against your skin as he drags your hips closer - raspy breaths pour from his lips as he’s gradually plummeting his thick cock inside of your grippy, welcoming cunt.
oh, you missed him. but more importantly — you missed his cock. if it was anything toji knew how to do, it was to fuck. you whimper, immediately bawling up the sheets into the smooth pads of your palms with your hands imitating a fist shape.
he’s just so fucking big, you feel the fat of his girth stretch you open so good that your mouth starts to salivate. “ngh, fuck toji,” you mewl out in desperate sobs, smelling his loud cheap cologne that never fails to waft right into your nostrils. within an instant, his rude sharp hips snap into you meanly. your jaw hangs open as he’s shoving such lengthy inches into you at once. “mmhhh, right there, ‘toj.”
“still the same cock drunk ‘lil slut i know ‘n love,” he huffs, watching how your body responds to his crazed rhythm. again, he’s so rude, just a single piston of his hips and you’re a slobbering, numb mess. toji always had the stamina of a horse, you feel the pulsing sensation pulsate on his angered cockhead and you shiver. “missed my favorite pussy,” he gruffs, dark thin brows curling together. “fuck back against me, good girl. make me fuckin’ proud, princess.”
you’re a whiny mess. with such ease, toji snatches out orgasm after orgasm out of you like it was nothing. nobody knew your body like he did. he left you in a stupid state, so stupid to where the only words you’re murmuring out is just blurbs ‘n blurbs of incoherent babbles.
“fuuuck,” you suck at the air, feeling how every few seconds he’d bring a mean swat toward your ass. oh, that was always his favorite part. the way your cute recoil always bounces back against him, always responding to his palm. and as he’s continuing to mercilessly plunge his cock in and out of your sopping pussy. it takes no time before you’re creaming down his cock. “t- tojiiiii.”
the moment you’ve successfully milked him dry however, he never fails to plug you full of his hot, sticky cum. you gasp, hearing the wet squelches overflow into your walls. your back still arches itself forward as he’s spewing such stringy ropes deep into the depths of your womb. such a mess,
“aht aht, bring that ass back here,” he lowly snickers, dragging your hips back into him once you try to crawl away. “saved so much cum ‘n i wanna give ya all of it, baby. mhm, let’s listen to it together, yeah.”
you whine, feeling his hovering weight press right up against your ass.
toji swipes a thumb against your entrance, sloshing sounds exiting right from your pussy. he makes you listen to how filthily soaked you were, purposely growing silent. his thumb was fat, it curls its way against your sweet ‘lil labia before he gathers a nice amount of dribbling cum near the print of his finger.
“fuck, ‘s pretty,” he grouses through gnawed teeth. you’re taken by surprise once he flips you over to where you flop right on your back. landing with a surprised oof, you’re met with the hungry eyes of your ex-boyfriend who’s not exactly done yet. “go on. spread ‘em,” he does a swift hand motion with one hand, flicking his tongue against his thumb with the other. you felt your cunt shamelessly twitch at the sight and you moan once he dives right in between your trembly legs. “good girl, now lemme see what ‘m workin’ with.”
the moment he pried your legs open—he wastes no time, smearing his face right against your sloppy cunt. “s- shiiiit, toji,” you sob out a sweet syllable of his name, feeling the edge of his scar tickle against your swollen puffed folds. his long tongue slithers its way down your full slit, relishing in your taste, your taste of his cum. he didn’t care, his tongue happily laps up the honeyed mixture of both sweets that dance on his tongue. you whine, grabbing a fistful of his hair, hearing him groan once you give his head a light tug. glancing down, he spits on your cunt, swirling his tongue around before slurping you right up, cleaning you. “toji y- you’re so nasty.”
with a teasing him, he pats your twitching cunt before the pat turns into a rough spank. “gotta be nasty ‘ta deal with a cunt this wet,” and he gives your folds a single kiss before flipping you over again. you moan, still feeling remnants of cum ooze out of your entrances before he smacks a broad palm against your left ass cheek. “mhm, now now. be a good girl ‘n bend over one more time. wanna clean ya up from the back. just like i always used to, babygirrrrl.”
GOJO ☆ the annoying ex.
he’s just as stubborn as you, maybe even worse. “yada yada less talkin’ more riding, sweet thing,” and you moan once you feel a stinging smack ghost against your ass. you’re riding him, swirling your hips around him back ‘n forth as you’re pressed up against his bare chest in classic cowgirl. one hand of his grips onto your waist, watching you throw your hips back in such obscene rhythm. the roll, you’re so pretty like this, especially whenever you were on top. your knees bury themselves into his thighs as you’re bouncing up and down his cock, taking in many inches of him effortlessly. “you’re so hot,” gojo smugly grins at you, continuously bouncing his left thigh just to see your lewd reaction. you loudly mewl out at the staticky friction, feeling him pump into you again ‘n again. “heyy, pretty girl.” he slyly says as you finally meet his stare. gojo brings a hand against your ass, gripping it tightly before spanking it again - his way of telling you to go faster.
with satoru gojo as an ex, you’d never hear the end of it. hear the end of him,
he craves you more than anything. even better if you let him fuck you just for the night. but that night turns into one, then two, then three.
he’s purely infatuated, your pussy never fails to make him drunk. your arousal was always his favorite dessert. whining against his ear, your tremulous hips create haste a bit quicker as you shift your weight onto your bent knees. “s- satoru, mhh. gonna cum again, fuckk.”
“aw, already baby?” he coos to you in a faux, caring tone. gojo grabs both of your hips, peering intently at the way your abdomen tenses in front of him. you’re gaping, recognizing the stretch like no other. you’re so pretty, your tongue rolls itself out as you’re preparing to make a mess on his cock. like you always do, your arms throw over his shoulders before the moment gets abruptly ruined by a ring. not just an ordinary ring but it’s your phone. gojo raises a white brow, you’re still rocking your hips against him in a circular rotation before he hums. “oh, and who’d be callin’ my baby at this hour?”
“s- satoruuu,” you make a weak attempt at grabbing your phone but he beats you to it — he squints at the screen, an unsaved number that only you recognized. it was one of your old flings and for some reason they still thought they had a chance.
a wave of ripples surge all throughout your core as he’s buried to the hilt. “yo,” he answers, a hand still attached to your rear. you’re completely stupid, forming into a state of sheer dimwit as you moan into his neck. his fattened tip steadily repeats its movements to kiss and kiss near your sweet spot, yanking out such pretty harmonic whimpers. to gojo, the guy was speaking a whole lot of nothing, and he yawns, fingers combing straight down your feverish waist. “uh huh, well anyways, she’s busy. she can’t ngh—come to the phone right now but she’d loooove to leave you a mes- uh, don’t cut me off. do you know who i am?”
you wanted to face palm. he could be so dramatic, but you were being too stuffed full to even think about that. it’s been far too long without his cock, and each hit he created against you had you drooling for more. gojo’s thrusts were so good that it’s got you whining ‘n whining like a broke record until your voice grows strained. you’re having a competitive race with your own breath, blushing throbbing crown continuing to bury its way into your sopping cunt. gojo leans back, grabbing onto the headboard and his pectorals flex. “fuckk, i mean we’re busy,” and he shoots you a teasing grin as you straddle him.“ain’t that right, angel? say hi.”
and you moan loudly, a force ripping out of your windpipe the moment your orgasm comes. gojo puts the phone on speaker, letting the caller on the other end hear all of you. your sweet, sweet climax. you’re going crazy - feral.
it sounded so pretty nonetheless, a five second syllable that’s neverending and it makes his dick twitch. you feel the twitch — you also feel the vein that runs down the curve of his heavy shaft. “s- satoru, fuck fuuuck,” and with your eyes squeezed shut, your jaw tightens. he hums, watching as you coat his cock down with your slippery slick, squelch after squelch wailing out from your cunt. “ohmygoddd.”
“that’s it, baby. make me just as messy as you, yeah,” and you’re met with wet lips crashing onto yours. weakly moving yourself against him at a much slower pace, he delves his tongue inside your hot, warm mouth. you shiver, still feeling the pleasurable after effects before he pulls away, ending the phone call before tossing it near the other side of the bed. “heh, she’s such a good girl,” and you gasp once you feel a hand of his slither between your thighs. maneuvering a few circles against your stuffed cunt, gojo nibbles on your chin. “mhm, who’s pussy is this?”
“y- yours,” you whine, feeling your thighs shake from just his touch alone.
“my name isn’t ‘yours’, pretty girl.”
“m- my pussy belongs to you, ‘toru. satoru.”
“yeah she fuckin’ does.”
NANAMI ☆ the unforgettable ex.
nanami’s the type of ex where you couldn’t forget him even if you tried. he’s got the looks, the charm, the romantically deep strokes.
prefers to have you right underneath him, right where you belonged. you’re so pretty, he can’t help but blink twice because if this was a dream, he didn’t want to ever wake up.
“sweetheaaart,” he lowly groans into your neck, his body gradually rocking into you. he didn’t wanna go too quick or too fast - nanami’s pace was always just right. “you dunno how much i missed you,” and you moan, feeling him hide his face into your chest. he playfully nips against your breasts before sighing gruffly. “missed my girls too.”
“k- ‘kennn,” you moan, going into a short split second daze once the leaky tip of his cock glissades past your clit. you’re so sensitive, clenching your teeth as he’s rolling his beefy body against you. with his weight on top of you, you’re in perfect sync, perfect harmony. he huffs and puffs, hot clouds of breath tickling against your skin before he licks a damp stripe from your chest to your neck. “mhm, i- i missed you more.”
“oh, my sweet, that’s impossible,” he whispers, stretching out your gloopy walls with all his might.
like always, you opened up for him - the stretch was always there. nanami hissed faintly, feeling your cunt cling onto him tightly. so tight as if you never wanted to let go — and you didn’t.
he looked so pretty like this though. dirty blond hair that’s mostly neat and parted was now all ruffled, strands everywhere - strands running past his eyes and forming into thin bangs. as translucent beads of sweat race down his forehead, they pour down each side of his face.
whilst his tense back muscles flex at every sharp thrust he’s giving you, nanami groans—his adam’s apple bobbing as he tossing his head back, biting his lip. as he does so, he feels the little charms of your anklet he bought you years ago with his initials of ‘n. k.’ engraved on it, run down his skin, hearing the dangles sing out a tune as he goes faster and faster. with his chiseled hips going faster, so does your breaths.
“you drive me crazy,” he almost pouts, cupping the curvature of your jawline. nanami holds your face as a single thumb strokes your cheek. “no one m- makes me feel as good as you do, my love.”
“kentoooo, ngh,” you moan out, fuzz deafening the insides of both of your ears. it’s so loud, the sounds of skin slapping and groaning groans fills the room — bouncing and reverberating against the thin walls. the neighbors would probably file another complaint, yet alas, you started to not care. maybe he was what you were missing. you’re throbbing not only from his touch but his voice. nanami could call you the prettiest girl in the word and you’d cream all down his cock, like you’d always do. “breed me, ‘ken. ‘s okay, you can finish inside.”
“s- sweetheart, careful now,” he sheepishly says, feeling the way you wrap your arms around his tense shoulders. your words made him hot, incredibly hot. his entire body feels shivers, just from a few simple words. “fuck,” he swears, delicately pounding you into the bed you two once both shared. with an abashed expression, he peppers your collarbone with soft kisses before whispering up against the sensitive shell of your ear. “ah, i shouldn’t s- say such foul language in front of you, forgive my filthy mouth,” and you cut him off with a tender kiss, rocking your body against him ever further. he moans in your lips, feeling the thumping of his heart accelerate. oh, you had him whipped. he never fell out of love with you - he couldn’t.
calloused fingertips graze against your neck as he holds you close. with thick inches of cock plummeting in and out of your walls, he’s seconds close to shooting into you raw. he sucks in a breathe, bucking his hips as your tongue battles with his. “mhh,” you whimper, feeling his sculpted abs grind against you. nanami still had on his blazer — yet, his tie remained on and his collar was roughly tugged out. in some cases, you forgot why the two of you even broke up in the first place. but with nanami, one or the other would always come crawling back. “kento, ‘s okay, baby,” you murmur between kisses in a shaky voice, feeling him circle a palm around your tummy. he’s envisioning you with a plump belly already and it does something to his brain.
“okay, okay,” he huskily grunts, your legs tightly wrapping around his waist. you heard the timbre in his voice, how it’d always get low whenever he was close. underneath him — your knees buckle, and your cunt was pulsating. each individual nerve prods and pulses, making you whimper out his name in such a sweet manner. the way you’d whine out his name, throwing your head back and rolling your eyes in debleating rapture - it was pure bliss. the moment he cums, he sees nothing but snowy white. nanami’s eyes grows murky, almost doe-like before he’s dumping such a satiny load of ropes into your pussy. “hngh, oh- ‘s so much, sweetheart. ‘m gonna fill you up so g- good.”
and he does — barred big hands grab onto yours as he’s overflowing your weeping pussy with his warm seed. it’s so much that it spills out, dribbling down the sides of your thighs. the smell was almost potent, a milky ring forms its way around his base before he collapses onto your chest. nanami’s eyes were closed and yet his lips latch onto your bare, swollen nipples. “i- mph, love youuu,” and judging from his slurred speech, he was already pussy drunk. he leans into your touch, feeling the way your fingertips massage his scalp. the same hand from before rubs a circle against your tummy, and his head moves its way down before planting a pecking kiss near your stomach.
“and i’ll love our future little one also.”
SUKUNA ☆ the possessive ex.
“tell me,” he purrs in a raspy voice, raking a few fingers over your shivering frame. you moan, watching as he’s preparing to pounce like an animal does right before its prey. you meet the demon’s gaze and he cups your chin, his damp tip brushing against your folds. “anyone touch her?”
coyly, you shrug both shoulders as your legs remain sprawled open. “huh,” you murmur out, sheepish grin curling against your lips. “touch who, ‘kuna?”
“woman, don’t try me,” he snarls, baring a single fang as he spoke - the same exact fangs that would always bury into your flesh, gifting you with a plethora of individual fang marks. your breath hitches once he’s sinking his dick inside, feeling how quick your walls were to tighten. your arms toss over him for support, sweeping the edges of your fingertips against the ancient markings that paint the blade of his broad shoulders. “ah,” he whispers against your ear, an almost growl. you whimper, feeling his forked tongue ghost against your earlobe before he nibbles on it. “talkin’ about her, my other stubborn girl who’s always soaked.”
and as he finishes that sentence, a hand squeezes against your cunt before giving it a rude spank. you gasp, a single thrust of his hips and he’s fully inside. it felt so good, it’s probably been months since he’s seen you, since he’s been inside.
sukuna was the kind of ex where he’d never let you forget him.
the sharp rims of his claws gently and delicately scrap against your skin and he leisurely moves his mouth toward your neck. now, he’s got you right where he wants — mating press.
“s- she’s missed you, ‘kuna,” you finally whine out, the gripping pressure of his cock rummaging through your insides so thoroughly, so fully just makes your brain short circuit. he’s just so big, as he’s expanding inside of your walls, already, your body underneath him starts to grow limp. sukuna stares at you, watching as your facial expressions twitch and contort in gratifying pleasure. “fuck, fuck. i missed you.”
“i know you did,” he groans, and it’s a bit of sincerity underneath his tone. you had the audacity of stealing his breath away and his heart.
having you sprawled out like this . . on his royal bed, screaming out his name like you always did, he’s missed it. he’s missed you, but last of all, he’s missed your sweet, sweet pussy. the bed creaks ‘n creaks until it can’t anymore, creating a sort of beat with each croaking grunt it wails out.
sukuna’s weight is right on top of you — crashing against your skin, barely hovering over your own frame as he’s driving his hips into you speedily, fucking you deeply into the kingly, regal sheets. you’re babbling out candied cacophonies of ‘ryooo’ — ‘kunaaa,’ and a majority of other colorful swears that sound so melodic coming from your tongue. “still got a filthy pussy but an even filthier mouth, i see.”
and as he’s pounding you into the mattress, he grips your chin. he’s so rough, snapping hips rut into you all at once to where you could barely get an audible word out. you’re stammering pure lewd gibberish, skin against skin and he’s sticking right against you like sweltering hot glue.
“f- fuuuuck, harder,” you egg him on, jerking back against the bed at each powerful hit. it doesn’t take him long to locate your g-spot either, you squeal out that same squeak he’s grown to love and that’s when he starts pummeling into it. again, and again, and again. his sloppy thrusts against your pussy gets so repetitive — he feels your legs snake around his waist and he growls into your neck.
“hah, you sound so stupid,” he jibes, pearly fangs nipping the inner part of your neck. your taste, he could never get enough of it. no one had your flavor, your taste — your sweet arousal that forevermore lingers on his demon tastebuds. you were sukuna ryomen’s favorite treat. as he’s grinding into you, you’re already a puddled mess. you whimper, moaning into his ear before he starts to bite near your neck. “all mine. mine to breed, mine to kiss, mine to love.”
as he’s grunting his ‘possessions’ into your ear, your sloppy cunt flutters. his reddened tip thrashes in ‘n out of your core before you start to spasm.
with his weight still pressing onto you, you felt his heat everywhere. his toned body, his muscles colliding against your soft, tepid skin. “i- i love you, ‘kuna,” you whimper out, and he has a smug cunning grin at your sudden blurt. so cute, the way it rolls of your tongue. as he’s continuing to ravage into your swollen, needy walls, he throws your leg over his shoulder. fingers of yours wisp near the nape of his neck whilst another hand cups his face. “never stopped.”
“oh, yeah?” a low voice rumbles out of him, and he starts to flick his tongue near the numerous of fang marks that were slowly forming near your collarbone. you were so sweet, he could just eat you up. “i have a strong liking to you too, i guess.”
“you guess?”
“i . . love you too, brat,” he says through gritted teeth, it was like saying those simple eight words were about to kill him. he felt a weird softness pool its way into his heart before you both reach inevitable climaxes at the same time. it’s abruptly euphoric. he groans, using your bare shoulder to suppress his moans. twitching, he remains like this the entire time. strong arms, all of them wrap around your body, pulling you close.
“all mine,” he repeats, and you watch with glossy eyes as he pulls up your ring finger. with a huffing blow, he has a cute pouty pout. the demon was fucked dumb just as much as you. he rests his face into your chest before grumbling. “does this mean you’re staying this time?”
“maybe.” you pant.
“tch. maybe she says.”
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kooktrash · 3 months
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UKIYO ✧ jeon Jungkook
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summary: it’s the start of summer and there’s nothing better than dipping your toes in the sand and falling for a local boy who plays beach volleyball in his free time. he’s charming in a way you’ve never seen and you seem to understand each other better than one could imagine. both stuck in an awkward time of self discovery, you try to live in the moment and forget about your worries till they become too hard to ignore.
The Japanese word ukiyo (pronounced "u-key-yo") means "living in the moment" or "detached from the troubles of life".
✧ genre/au: summer romance, local beach boy!jk x city girl!y/n, [she/her, afab]
✧ 17.7k words
warnings: smut, fluff, ‘coming of age’ but they’re in their twenties, jk falls first. oral [f receiving]. unprotected bc they’re literally on a boat. hair pulling. jk is kinda rich boy. oc seems mean but she’s got mean vibes but just sassy and jk likes it. jk was previously engaged. law student jk. intimate missionary. jk is a volleyball player. think beach town vibes. his ex is kinda stuck up—all his friends are. jk is kinda lovesick puppy who needs aftercare lol
inspired by, Nicholas Sparks’ “The Last Song”
songs: tyrant — coldplay, mind over matter — young the giant, left hands free — alt-j, omg — suki waterhouse, sex drug etc — beach weather
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For a long time, summer was the only thing to look forward to in the year. The days were longer spent outside enjoying time with your friends and letting yourself sleep in until noon. As you grew older with more responsibilities that didn’t suddenly disappear when the temperature grew warmer, you began to lose feelings for the season. It made no difference in your life anymore and you longed for the days it would.
Maybe that’s why it was so easy for you to drop everything and leave your worries behind. A couple months in the sun, no stress, nothing holding you back.
”I still can’t believe I managed to convince you,” Your friend said for the third time in the last hour. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, again, “I still can’t believe it either, don’t make me regret it.”
Hoseok mocked you using a high pitched voice, turning the Jeep Wrangler into the driveway of a modern beach house, “How could you regret these next few weeks waking up to the waves crashing on the shore?”
”What magazine did you read that off of?” Your friend asked from the backseat, laughing to herself at his expense, “I hate when you talk corny.”
”Whatever, you guys are so ungrateful,” Hoseok jokes, pulling the car in ‘park’ and powering the engine off, “Next time I’ll invite someone else to come with—someone who I won't have to beg!”
”Boohoo,” You pretended to whine, getting out of the car and racing to get to your luggage first, “You love begging for me.”
”You wish,” He says with a scoff, “Hurry up and find your rooms, I want to get down to the beach as soon as possible.”
The beach was at its peak time of day where the sun sat the highest and almost every foot of sand was covered with people’s belongings. Not far from shore were rows of volleyball courts and crowds of people watching and as much as you wanted to avoid that busy side, it was the way to the boardwalk. You had no choice but to follow your friends in that direction. They were steps before you, already arguing about which store to go into first or what food stand you’ll go to but you were distracted by the large Ferris wheel in the back.
Maybe your focus should have been on the matches happening all around you but by the time you realized that it was too late. The white ball barely grazed your side when a tall figure headed straight into you with a loud thud.
A low grunt left your lips as you hit the sand with such a force that it physically ached for a moment. Your hands and face were practically covered in sand it was hard to acknowledge whatever gibberish your assailant spat out.
He didn’t have time to get a good look at you as he rushed to his feet, taking your arm and pulling you up abruptly, “Shit, I’m so sorry, I—“
“It’s fine,” your tone came out harsher than expected and it probably had something to do with the guy who loomed over you, and how embarrassed you felt. Up ahead your two friends were barely realizing you weren’t behind them and turning to find you, laughing once they did.
The stranger let his gaze trace over you with sudden curiosity, not at all intimidated by your attempt at a scowl. Now that he was looking at you up close, he had to admit he liked what he saw. He couldn’t help but grin nervously, “I’m sorry.”
His smile made you glare as you dusted sand off your jeans, “Really? I can’t tell.”
“I… it’s just, usually when there’s a ball flying people tend to dodge it,” he was walking backwards now as you tried leaving, he wanted to face you when he talked and it made his cocky smile all the more unbearable. You’ve just met the guy and he hadn’t given the best impression yet. Honestly, you’re just tired from the trip and you’re hungry so you blame that on your mood but you just want to escape this embarrassment of falling.
A scoff left your lips, “Are you saying that this is my fault? Maybe if you all played the game on the court, you wouldn’t have run after it.”
You were giving him attitude and yet he didn’t back down from returning it with a sweet smile.
“Jungkook!” Someone called from behind but the guy didn’t bother to even look back at the paused game. Instead he kept up with you, “You’re right, it’s partially my fault too so how can I make this up to you?”
You stopped walking, looking at him. You didn’t know him and he didn’t know you so there was no need to hold him up from his game any longer, “Don’t worry about it.”
“But I can’t go on like this,” The stranger, Jungkook, said, “Not until I know you’re not mad anymore.”
The way you rolled your eyes excited him in a good way. He wasn’t amusing enough for you and it was rare for him not to be.
“Jungkook! Come on man, the game!”
“Y/n!” Hoseok said loudly, “Hurry up, I’m starving.”
Just like that, the two of you walked away from each other and you had to tell yourself not to look back at him. You didn’t want to catch him doing the same before he went back to playing.
“Are you okay?” Hyeri asked, still laughing lightly, helping you shake off sand, “I was going to help you but then I saw you talking to that hot guy and I didn’t want to intervene.”
“So considerate,” you mumbled sarcastically, trying to hide your smile as you walked the steps up to the pier and forgot about whatever was happening on the sand.
The stranger really was attractive, and if he hadn’t toppled you over like it was nothing you might have stayed a little longer. When you spotted him below you couldn’t help but look him over. He wore a pair of blue and white striped swimming trunks and no shirt which gave you a good look at his muscular back and sleeve of tattoos. Compared to the players around him, he looked noticeably different from the rest and you kind of liked that.
“What are we eating?” You asked your friends who shrugged, still indecisive.
Hours after the sunset and Jungkook’s adrenaline from winning began to slowly settle down, he walked along the boardwalk with his partner. The two of them are trying to waste time for a while before their night plans come along.
“I know Yeaun is around here somewhere and if she’s here then that means Chae-hi isn’t far,” Jimin said looking around the crowded boardwalk while Jungkook followed behind lazily, “Which means a fun night for us so let’s find them.”
He could hear what Jimin was saying but he wasn’t truly listening. His attention had drifted away from the conversation the second he looked to the side and found a familiar silhouette in the distance. Well, not too familiar but he recognized it from when he crashed into you earlier.
You were with your friends at some jewelry stand looking over all the handmade bracelets and necklaces, such a short distance from him. He could easily make it over to you in no time.
“I don’t really want to see Yeaun,” Jungkook said, eyes trained on you. Jimin groaned in response, whipping back to his friend and shaking his head. He followed his line of sight and jumped in front of him.
“No, look over here, we’ve got plans,” Jimin said hoping to pull Jungkook’s attention away from some stranger, “We told Chae-hi and Yeaun we’d met them tonight.”
“No, you have plans, I never agreed to anything,” Jungkook said with a laugh, clearly amused. He tried to see if you were still there but when he looked back you were already walking away.
“Don’t be that way, think about me. Your best friend, who has been trying to get with Chae-hi for weeks now,” Jimin begged, making Jungkook sigh with defeat. He didn’t say anything as he motioned for Jimin to lead the way and went on with his life.
There’s a story about how you found yourself moving into a beach house with your best friends for the summer. The opportunity sort of fell at your feet when Hoseok’s sister had to leave abroad for a couple months because of her job. She lived in a nice house on the beach that would need to be looked after and that’s when she decided to tell her younger brother about it.
Not long after, he came to you and Hyeri and asked if you wanted to join. It took a long time for him to convince you but when you realized how shitty life currently was back home, there was nothing holding you back.
Your first week has been fun getting to enjoy the warm water and sand between your toes. You’ve gotten into a bit of a routine in the area and you’ve begun to familiarize yourself with the roads and places. That’s probably why you were doing Hoseok a favor by helping him out today.
He’s busy taking care of some errands for his sister and asked if you could bring his car into the shop for some maintenance, considering Hyeri liked sleeping past noon, you had no choice but to agree to it all on your own.
“What can we do for you?” A guy in a dark gray button up and oil streaks across his hands asked you once you made it to the auto shop.
“Just an oil change.”
Jungkook had nearly forgotten about his encounter on the beach. There wasn’t much for him to remember anyway and he’s never been the type to hold onto something so meaningless. He carried on with his usual routine and busied himself away at work.
The shop he worked at was busy all of the time and it was a great distraction from whatever else happened in his life so he truly loved it. He loved getting to work with cars and getting his hands dirty. He worked with people he was friends with and sometimes, if he’s really lucky, someone who catches his attention will stagger in.
When he found you standing in the office with his boss signing papers he was visibly taken back. He had been too busy helping Namjoon take a wheel off a black Sedan, to notice when you came in but he was too late now. You were already finishing up whatever you were doing with Jin and leaving.
“I’ll be back,” Jungkook told Namjoon, tossing him the wrench he had been using and heading straight to the front.
You went across the street to the small diner and he had to think about this. Part of him didn’t feel the need to see you again, mostly because he was embarrassed by toppling you over and probably how he sounded. Part of him wanted to ask for your name, apologize and try and see if you’ll talk to him.
“I’m taking an early lunch,” Jungkook told him without much of a car as he hurried to clock out and leave for the diner.
You sat alone in a booth with your laptop open and scrolling through a website filled with job offers. It was partially out of boredom and a reminder that you needed to find somewhere for when you get back home. You could look for something in the field you used to study in but how far could you get with it?
“Excuse me,” he stood in front of you now, “I don’t know if you remember me from a few days ago but—“
“I remember,” you said blandly, looking up at Jungkook with a mixture of boredom and a small hint of possible curiosity. He looked very different with a shirt on, his abs weren’t as distracting but he still had an intimidating build. That’s why his pretty face surprised you under all that sweat and car grease. He was clearly one of the mechanics and has somehow made his way to you.
“Right, uh,” he swooped in to sit across from you, “I wanted to apologize. I didn’t mean to knock you down and sometimes when I’m playing, I kinda get a little too excited so I’m sure I was just talking and talking.”
You’re assuming he meant how he followed after you and smiled so arrogantly when you looked visibly annoyed with him. What you don’t get is why he’s apologizing again, you weren’t still upset over that.
“It’s fine,” you reminded him with a confused look, trying to read what he was really here for, “You work across the street?”
“Yeah, I’m Jungkook,” He finally introduced himself, “I saw you earlier and it was time for lunch so I came to talk to you.”
You didn’t say anything for a while and the silence wasn’t broken until the waitress came and asked what Jungkook would like. He brushed her off with a ‘Whatever she’s having’ and looked at you curiously.
“Okay,” You’re definitely not from around here because he would’ve recognized you so just who are you? He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Um, yknow, usually when someone gives you their name you say yours back.”
“Y/n,” You said distantly, “Can I ask you something?”
“Yes, anything,” Jungkook sat straighter, almost reaching up to fix his hair but stopping himself. He wasn’t nervous or anything but you’re not speaking to him with the same flirtatious tone and it’s confusing him.
“What are some fun things you can do around here other than the usual tourist stuff?” You asked him suddenly, “You are a local, I assume.”
“You assume right,” Jungkook nodded as he bit his lip in thought, “I could always show you better than I can tell you.”
“You’re a funny guy, y’know?” You smiled, “But seriously, what is there to do?”
He’s pretty sure that was just a rejection so it took him a moment to bounce back from it and tried to catch himself from doing it again.
By the time the car was ready, you were paying for your meal and hurrying to leave while Jungkook ate and enjoyed the last of his break. For the rest of the day he found himself thinking about you.
He’s lived a very repetitive and predictable life. Since early childhood he’s had the same classmates and friends, and gone to the same places and events. He’s known the same girls and has hung out with the same people for years. The only time he got any sense of independence is when he was gone for law school but now that he’s done and has returned home for the sake of his family and friends, he’s reminded once again of the repetitiveness.
Maybe that’s why he’s a little excited to meet someone new. He just had a strong feeling that you were more interesting than you let on and he wanted to know more.
He didn’t know that you felt the same and had to ignore these thoughts so you wouldn’t start anything with him. Jungkook was attractive and you’ve moved on from the fall aside from the slight bruising, and you were just trying to enjoy your time. Did you really need to meet someone?
In all honesty, he didn’t seem as arrogant covered in sweat, he looked good and he seemed nice.
But did that mean you wanted to waste your time with him?
It was a crush, nothing but a small, schoolboy crush that occupied his mind from time to time. In all honesty, it was easy to ignore when he got carried away in his day to day life, it’s only when he sees you or you cross his mind for the shortest of seconds, that he finds himself getting lost. He doesn’t care for the girls his best friend likes to hang around, nor does he feel the need to upturn himself out there. Lately, all he’s wanted is to be with someone who makes him forget about himself and maybe he wasn’t looking in the right places if he thought you could help.
It was wishful thinking for him to hold so much thought over a stranger who couldn’t care less to know his name, but that’s what he liked. He wondered when he would run into you again, what he might say in hopes of getting a response and what would happen after that. He even wondered if you’d be at the beach tonight while everyone told ghost stories and drank bottles of Soju one after the other.
What does he say when he finally sees you looking at him?
You spotted him first, hating how much you wanted for him to look up and see you too. He was with his friends and you had no intentions to approach him but… well, he was cute. You can’t act like he isn’t and he’s oddly charming which makes him memorable but it was a bad idea. This trip was meant to be fun with your friends and that’s it—you weren’t going to make time for strangers.
“For once we don’t have to worry about an Uber and can walk our asses home,” Hoseok said standing over a keg, “So I don’t know about you guys, but I’m blacking out tonight.”
”When has anything ever stopped you from accomplishing that?” You asked him, turning your back to the familiar stranger, “You’re never the one ordering it anyway.”
”No, he’s usually the one we’re pushing into the backseat,” Hyeri joined in on the teasing.
“Shh, why do I always feel judged by you two? Is this what friends are for?” Hoseok pretended to be hurt as he filled your cup with beer.
“She’s not from around here, is she?” Jungkook asked as he looked across at you. You haven’t noticed him—he doesn’t think—but he’s noticed you and for some reason that excited him. Well, for one specific reason and it was simply the fact that he likes you. Does he know enough about you to pinpoint this statement? No, but he knows that he feels strange when you’re around. That has to mean something. The longest relationship he’s ever been in was with Yeaun and he doesn’t remember feeling this excited to meet someone.
“How would I know?” Jimin asked when a scoff, barely bothering to look over at you. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “You rather think about her than Yeaun? You’re insane.”
“Are you sure it’s Chae-hi you like and not Yeaun? You sure do bring her up around me a lot,” Jungkook rolled his eyes.
“Isn’t it obvious? I want you to get back together with Yeaun so that Chae-hi will think about me instead of her ‘heartbroken’ friend,” Jimin handed him a cup of beer, “Take one for the team.”
“No, I don’t think so,” He chuckled, “We broke up for a reason so don’t push it.”
“Not a good reason,” Jimin mumbled under his breath but Jungkook chose to ignore it.
“There you are,” the devil herself said as she found him, “We were wondering where you two ran off, right?”
“Right,” Chae-hi agreed, “Hi Jimin.”
“So, it’s kind of boring here isn’t it?” Yeaun asked looking at Jungkook for assurance, “Plus all the low lives are starting to come in and I really don’t want to be around any of them. We were wondering if you guys wanted to come back to mine.”
“To do what?” Jimin asked while Jungkook stood back disinterested and distracted. He couldn’t even pretend to be interested when he was focused on someone else entirely.
By pure luck, he looked back to see if you were still standing where you were before and this time you locked eyes with him. Without much care for the conversation he was supposed to be in right now, he walked off while they discussed plans involving a hot tub.
“I’m starting to think you’re following me,” Jungkook first said as you nearly bumped into him in an attempt to get closer to the bonfire. He walked alongside you with ease, “First, on the court, then at my job and now here?”
That made you snort in disbelief, shaking your head and trying not to smile, “Someone seems flattered but I think you have it the wrong way.”
“As in I’m the one doing the most to run into you? No, never,” Jungkook spoke dramatically, “This is all by chance. There’s no way I could’ve seen you from over there and decided to come and talk to you instead. That would make me seem desperate, wouldn’t it?”
“It would,” you agreed, slightly amused now as you broke into a small smile, “I didn’t take you as the type.”
“Well that’s because you haven’t tried to get to know me, I’m honestly a catch,” Jungkook joked lightly, following you where you walked off to, “Or are you scared?”
“Scared? Of what?” You asked, stopping abruptly and turning to face him with furrowed brows. He couldn’t help but smirk, “Oh I don’t know… getting to know someone new. You give me the vibe that you don’t like meeting new people.”
“I love meeting new people,” You exaggerated childishly, “When they don’t fall on top of me.”
“I caught myself, so let’s not lie now,” Jungkook snorted, “Besides, who’s the one who walked into the middle of a game?”
As he said that, the two of you seemed to have drifted far enough from where the fire had been going, that you found yourself not too far from one of the volleyball nets on the shore. Jungkook looked down at you with clear amusement as you looked up at the net and he walked up to the abandoned volleyball that sat in the sand.
“Do you eat, sleep, and breathe volleyball?” You jokingly asked, finally giving Jungkook some response that implied you were interested in him even slightly.
“Only on the weekends, sometimes around noon or after work if I’m free,” Jungkook told you, picking up the ball, “Do you play?”
“No,” you told him as he began to bounce the ball back and forth between his hands. You looked back at your friends who seemed preoccupied with whatever new friends they made for the night.
“It’s easy,” Jungkook said, “There’s really only one basic rule, don’t let the ball touch the ground.”
“Are you giving me a lesson now?” You asked with slight amusement as he moved to the other side of the net, “I’m warning you, I won’t be any good at it.”
“I’ll take it easy on you,” Jungkook tossed the ball your way and although you reached out to hit it, you missed and it landed a few feet behind you. He couldn’t help but laugh, “Okay, maybe you try and throw it.”
“But how do I throw it?” You looked up the tall net wondering how you would make it over. You held it up and tried doing a practice hit while he tried teaching you.
“Just try a simple serve, you can hit it from under or thro—“
“Oh my god,” you broke out into a nervous laugh as Jungkook covered his face with his hand. The ball sat at his feet, completely oblivious to the fact it had just pummeled straight into his face. You covered your mouth in an attempt to stop laughing but you were embarrassed and couldn’t do anything but try and laugh it off, “I’m so sorry.”
“Really? I can’t tell?” Jungkook said sarcastically, sounding eerily similar to you when you first met but still playful. In all honesty, the pain wasn’t too bad but it was humiliating and the only thing he could think about is how you’re trying not to laugh, “You think it’s funny?”
“No! No, I don’t, I just um,” you tried to stop, “I just…”
“You just what?” Jungkook looked at you, slowly making his way to your side and you inadvertently began to step back, worried he might actually be upset, “You like laughing at causing other people pain?”
“Did it actually hurt?” You asked with surprise, still stepping back the closer he got.
“My ego, yeah,” he joked, “And I feel like we need to get even.”
“We did, think about it as me getting back at you for the other day!” You tried to say, feeling the edge of the ride begin to touch your feet the farther you walked from him.
“Really? So this was all part of revenge?” Jungkook asked, “I don’t think so, I suggest you run.”
“What?” You stopped to think, “Jungk—“
And it began. He kicked water at you once the tide was close again and without thinking, you jumped back. You weren’t wearing a bathing suit or anything appropriate for the water so he can’t. You’re in a simple top and flowy, long skirt, not something you wanted wet, “Don’t you dare.”
“Why? Scared of a little water?” He tried to kick water again but this time you moved back in time and he smirked, “It’s better than getting hit in the face. Will you take care of me if I get a concussion?”
You scoffed, laughing, “Don’t you wis—Jungkook!”
He ran after you as you took off in a jog and before he knew it, you were splashing water back at him, not caring about how wet you got. The night was young and you were having a good time, there wasn’t much to worry about other than making sure you got Jungkook before he could get you.
Not far from where the two of you played in the ocean with the moon reflecting against the waves, a few pairs of eyes watched you unimpressed. Jimin didn’t have much to think about the matter, he just couldn’t understand it. Why would Jungkook waste his time on someone he didn’t even know?
Yeaun was right here desperate to have him back and instead he’s wandered off with some stranger acting childish. It doesn’t make sense, and neither does the big grin on Jungkook’s face once he caught you and tackled you into the low tide, both getting drenched in water.
“Jungkook!” He ignored the call of his name as he watched you shake sand out of your hair with curiosity. You looked annoyed even if you smiled and he knows you probably are considering he pushed you into the water but you’re not cussing him out yet. You’re not screaming at him for getting you into the water so maybe it was a good sign.
“Are we even now?” You asked breathlessly as you looked forward to where your friends were and turned away from Jungkook.
“I guess, for now at least,” He teased, walking toward Jimin, “It depends on if I bruise or not.”
“I didn’t hit you that hard,” you scoffed, smiling and shaking your head in disbelief. At some point in your ascend back up the shore, Jungkook got you to finally give him your number. You didn’t question when his friend approached him, going on about something you didn’t bother listening to and turned in search for someone you knew.
“You look like you need a towel,” someone said from your right. It took you a second to realize she was talking to you, much less holding out a clean towel for you.
“Thanks,” you said, trying to wipe off some of the sand with the beach towel the stranger handed to you. Hyeri was off talking with some guy and you had no clue where Hoseok was so as of now, you were on your own here. The girl was pretty and she seemed nice enough so you didn’t mind responding to her approach.
“I’m getting sand all over it,” you tried to make some sort of conversation, “Sorry, I’m Y/n.”
“Don’t even worry about it, I’m Yeaun,” She said with a smile, “You’re not from around here, are you?”
“Is it that obvious?” You asked, laughing lightly. Yeaun just shrugged as she got closer to you, “Not really, but, well… there’s just some people you should always avoid.”
Your brows began to furrow with confusion, “Like?”
“No, I don’t want to start anything,” she shook her head no, “We don’t know each other and you’ll probably think I’m meddling but… okay, Jeon Jungkook.”
You didn’t say anything to that as you tried to get a good look at the girl. Yeaun was pretty with sun-kissed skin and golden hair that shone under the moonlight. She seemed soft and glowed with a brightness that felt contagious but you didn’t know her. You don’t know why she brought up Jungkook or why she even approached you so you had nothing to say back to her.
“I just mean… you’re not from around here and you seem smart,” Yeaun said sympathetically, “Jungkook’s kind of a known player and I don’t want you to fall for his tricks, trust me, he’s not worth it.”
“Trust me, it’s not like that,” you said, suddenly disinterested in conversation with her and more focused on finding your friends, “Thanks for looking out for me though.”
Yeaun watched you walk away and not bother to turn back and she had to leave like it didn’t bother her to be brushed to the side. She can’t tell if you took what she said into consideration or if you couldn’t care less and she didn’t like that. She didn’t like that she didn’t know you and she didn’t know about your relationship with Jungkook or how you know him.
His life was utterly perfect to anyone who thought about it. He had the bestest of friends, the closest family, the most money and a promising future. Everything he had ever wanted was handed right to him and in a sense, it made him arrogant. It was a given that he would end up that way and maybe that’s why he’s always surrounded himself with people of the like. He didn’t despise any of his friends, just sometimes, when he listened to the conversations they would have, he wanted to disagree.
“Yeaun said you’ve been avoiding her,” Jin said as he pulled a golf club out of his bag.
”Great, now you’re talking about her too?” Jungkook asked, lining his club up with a shiny white golf ball, “I already get enough of it from my parents and Jimin.”
“Well yeah, when you suddenly call off a year long engagement with someone you’ve known all your life, people question it,” Jin said, watching Jungkook swing the club back and shoot the ball into the air, “We’re worried about you.”
“Don’t be,” Jungkook mumbled, “Besides, there’s someone else, I don’t know if you know her, her name’s Y/n.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Jin shrugged, moving his visor down to block more of the summer sun out of his eyes. He wore white golfing gloves and a pair of Raybans, making him look straight out of a country club catalog.
Jungkook sighed, growing more restless by the minute. He’s only seen you on few occasions and he’s yet to leave a good impression on you where he can ask for your number or something, “She was hanging out with this guy, I know you know him but I can’t think of his name—you dated his sister.”
“Hoseok?” Jin asked, “I remember hearing about how he was in town. How do you know this isn’t his girlfriend you’re hitting on?”
“It’s not,” Jungkook said, “I don’t think. I don’t know.”
“But what about her?” Jin asked, hopping in the passenger’s side of the golf cart, “You don’t know a thing about the girl but you like her and you’re willing to throw away your future because of it.”
“I’m not throwing anything away,” Jungkook said with a scoff, “But whatever, you don’t get it.”
He spent the evening golfing on a private course not far from the beach where you wandered around with a book in hand.
You enjoyed passing time with your friends but sometimes, you just needed time to yourself and you would find yourself wandering off on your own without much care for anything else. Your friends didn’t mind when you went off and you always made sure to tell them where you would go so there was never any problem. Ever since you got here, you’ve been doing things on your own.
“I knew I would find you around here.”
You didn’t respond at first, still debating if the person was talking to you, but one look up told you he was. Although you wanted to resist the urge to smile, you couldn’t help it.
“Stalker,” You said with a small sigh, closing your book. He didn’t say anything as he took a seat down in the sand next to you. “You’re on my turf, remember? What are you reading by the way?”
You glanced at the cover of your book, “Nothing exciting—how’d you know I was here?”
“I looked for a dark, brooding figure and assumed it was you,” Jungkook joked, “And just an fyi, my face still hurts.”
“I’m sure you've been hit worse,” You said sarcastically, sitting up and watching him get comfortable. He was dressed in a light color linen button up and shorts, the first buttons were undone and a cliche shell necklace sat perfectly against his collarbone. He was attractive and you’ve thought so since the beginning but something was holding you back.
Did you really want to waste your time on a stranger you won’t know in a few months?
“What are you doing tonight?” He asks suddenly.
“Sleeping, hopefully,” you told him, a small smile when you noticed him roll his eyes.
“It’s the summer, the sun’s out, you live on the beach—don’t look at me like that, it’s a small town. Word gets around when a new person shows up,” Jungkook said with a shrug, knowing it’s him who had been asking about you.
“You’re just solidifying my stalker allegations, should I report you?” You asked, laughing slightly.
“I’ll have you know, a lot of people would love to be stalked by me, you should feel flattered,” He nudged your knee with his.
“What? Like it’s hard? Word gets around,” You said to him, “I’ve already been warned about getting too close to you.”
Jungkook let his brows furrow as he took in what you said but it didn’t take long for it to dawn on him. As much as he wanted to act like there was no way his ex girlfriend would approach you, he knew her too well. Who else would talk down on him? Who else would feel threatened when he ignores them? What does she think she gains from telling you to stay away from him? Isn’t it his decision who he approaches and does she think you’re just going to fall in line like everyone else does?
This is the sort of thing that pisses him off. He’s not a bad guy at all, he doesn’t sleep around, he focuses on his goals, he has fun with his friends… so why?
“But if it makes you feel any better, I’m not very good at listening to what I’m told,” You finally said, standing up with your book in hand and pulling the sand-covered towel, “And I’m starving, so where’s a good place to eat around here?”
As much as he wanted to act like the cool guy and seem indifferent, he couldn’t help but break out into a grin. Without wasting another second, he got up and motioned to carry your things, “There’s a good food shack on the boardwalk. I guess I could show you around.”
“If it isn’t too much of a hassle,” You said playfully, handing him your things.
“So, I want to know, what’s a big city girl like yourself doing all the way over here?” He asked on the way up, “Or do you still want to play at being mysterious?”
You rolled your eyes, “I don't usually play games like that, I think you’ve got me confused with someone else. I just don’t talk if I have nothing to say.”
“Interesting take, I personally never know when to shut up,” Jungkook smiled, pointing up to the restaurant and walking in behind you, “But seriously, usually the tourists come to pollute our water and get away.”
“Are you always so observant? You give me the vibe that you like to watch other people,” You told him, sitting down at a high round table across from him.
“And you give me the vibe that you hate talking about yourself. Why else would you avoid every question I ask?” He asked, raising a brow making you scoff but you couldn’t deny it. When the server brought out your menus, she made sure to greet Jungkook like old friends.
“Do you really care to know?” You asked quietly.
“Why else would I ask? I’m not pretending to be interested, if that’s what you think,” Jungkook said honestly.
You didn’t say anything for a moment, looking down at the menu contemplating what to order and what to say, “Things were getting a little too complicated back home and my friend asked if I wanted to pack up my things and follow him down for the summer and I said yes.”
“How broad,” Jungkook said with a small smile, lifting a brow and waiting to see if you would add to it.
“It’s the truth,” you shrugged.
“What was complicated?” Jungkook asked.
He looked amused when you narrowed your eyes in response to his probing. “Adulting.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Jungkook shrugged, waiting for the server to come back to take your orders. He let you order first, watching the server give you a look as she listened and followed after with his own.
“How wise of you to say. What about you?” You asked him, handing the menus back and sliding your drink closer to you.
Jungkook distracted himself playing with the wrapper of his straw and shrugged, “What about me? We’ll get to me when you give me the juicy details.”
You couldn’t help but scoff, looking out the window to the view of the waves crashing against the shore, “What? I told you everything.”
He chuckled, “Barely.”
Rolling your eyes, “Rude.”
“Really?” He asked, biting back a smile.
“No. You’re actually pretty nice,” once again, you sighed, as if admitting that was hard for you.
“Nice? That’s what you tell a guy when you’re going to reject him. I just want to know more about you but there’s not much I can go with. How long are you staying?” Jungkook finally asked you.
“A couple months, are you already dreading it when I leave?” You asked, sounding sarcastic and amused.
“Maybe, you’ve left an impression despite what you might think. Crushing you under my incredible physique was destiny.” He could tell you wanted to laugh but were refusing to do so.
“Corny.”
“Funny.” He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair and making it known that he was going to wait for you however long it took.
“I had this bad roommate situation I couldn’t take anymore and my lease doesn’t end for another two months so when Hobi asked me to come with I jumped at the chance. I left my job because it’s draining me and I felt useless so I figured it’d be easier to run away to the beach and deal with it all later. Happy? I was honest.” You rushed the words, half-assed the pace.
It was his turn to narrow his eyes suspiciously but gave in, “Content. You’ll figure it out, you don’t seem like the type to wait around for things to fix themselves.”
“Really? Because that feels like what I’m doing right now. I’m all the way over here where I haven’t done anything but run into this strange guy at the beach who I think might be stalking me,” You said, joking at the end.
“No, right now you’re trying to live in the moment, nothing wrong with that,” he chuckled, ignoring your joke.
You don’t remember much of what you said to him but for some reason Jungkook was very easy to talk to. Maybe it’s because you don’t really know him or expect anything from him at all but he got you too open up to him like you’ve known him for years. In reality you didn’t know anything about him or anyone here for that matter.
“Okay, okay, enough about me. It’s your turn,” you had finally said between mouthfuls of whatever the two of you ordered and Jungkook couldn’t avoid it any longer.
“Alright, I’m… also trying to figure things out on my own. I’m used to being with certain people and doing certain things and I don’t know, at one point I kind of got fed up with everything being so predictable. I want to meet people on my own and not because they know who I am or something,” He rushed his words, “If I could, I’d move far away from here but right now I don’t think that’s an option so I settle for next best and stick it out. In all honesty, everything’s kind of been a bore until I met you, you’re different.”
You raised a brow, mirroring his earlier stance and crossing your arms over your chest, unamused, “How?”
He smirked, “I don’t know yet, I can just tell.”
You never believe a guy when he goes on about how different you are from other girls because usually they’re just full of shit. You’re not good at picking the right person so it makes you wary to believe anything he says despite how good he looks saying it.
By the time the bill came, the server made sure to sit it without checking if that’s what either of you wanted but you didn’t hesitate to reach for yours. Jungkook snatched the small slip out of your hand and hurried the server back so he could pay for it in full, giving her a tight smile, “Just one check, thanks.”
“Sure thing,” she said with a light scoff that had you looking after her with furrowed brows. Something about the way she acted left you feeling confused.
“What a good first date.” Jungkook said at the end, walking outside with you.
“This wasn’t a date,” you teased, thanking him for the meal nevertheless, “But I should probably call it a night, y’know.”
“Oh yeah, me too,” Jungkook shrugged “But if you’re not doing anything tomorrow night, we should see each other again.”
“Hm, I’ll think about it,” You said playfully, “If I’m not busy.”
“You won’t be,” He smirked, bumping your shoulder with his as the walk turned bumpy and more trail-like as he walked you home, “But why don’t you give me your number and we can talk about it more on the phone.”
“Hah, smooth guy, aren’t you?” You asked, taking his phone and typing your number in. When you got to the soft trail of greenery and sand that led up to the backyard of the beach house.
“How about we watch the last few minutes of the sun set together,” he reached for your head and stopped you before you could head up the wooden steps.
“How about you don’t kidnap my friend for the whole evening!” Hoseok shouted suddenly, tripping over his own feet as he ran out the sliding glass door that led to the pool deck, “I’ve been worried sick about Y/n.”
“Not true, he’s been sleeping!” Hyeri yelled after him, “But you’re the guy who tackled my best friend on our first day here.”
“My reputation precedes me,” Jungkook held his hands up in surrender, “I’m Jungkook. I was just asking if you guys wanted to join us and watch the sun set.”
“How aesthetic, let me grab some bottles of Soju.”
Your attempt to end your time with Jungkook failed and he seemed pleased with himself for that. He was also polite enough to try and get to know your friends too.
He was having a crisis, he thinks. A real life identity crisis because for the first time in his life he thinks he likes someone—in a way he’s never liked anyone before. It’s pathetic and makes him feel so stupid because he barely knows anything about you but it’s the truth. If anything that’s what makes him like you so much. He likes that he can’t tell what you’ll say or how you’ll react to him, it’s exciting.
He just wants to know if he’s on your mind too.
“We’re still on for this weekend right?”
“What are we doing again?” The road ahead was a scenic path between mountain and sea that led all the way to this private property of his childhood home.
“Chae-hi’s birthday trip.” Jimin spoke from the passenger’s seat of the black pick-up truck his best friend paraded in when he wasn’t on his dirtbike.
“Oh, yeah I’m not going. I was thinking of taking Y/n sailing,” Jungkook said with a small smile, looking sideways, unable to miss the way Jimin stiffened and went silent. He looked back to the road, hand tightening around the steering wheel slightly, “What?”
“Nothing,” Jimin scoffed, looking out the window annoyed now. The drive was silent for a while, nothing but the low sound of music and wind blowing through the topless truck.
“What’s up with you lately?” He finally asked, “You barely know the girl and she’s all you talk about. We’ve had plans to go with everyone.”
By everyone he meant their mutual friends—not just his ex and her friend—which made things worse. He’s known them all for years and it’s hard to see them when he wants to move on and do his own thing. Jungkook tried not to let Jimin’s tone ruin his mood and sighed, “Sorry, man, but I’m not going. Are we playing later or what?”
“You sure you’re not busy with your new friends?” Jimin asked, remembering about the night Jungkook had dinner with you. He tried calling him that night to see if he wanted to go out for drinks just to be rejected because Jungkook was too busy with you and your friends.
Jungkook chuckled, “Don’t be jealous, you’ll always be first in my heart.”
“Oh fuck off,” Jimin rolled his eyes, trying to not sound bitter as he asked, “What’s your girl doing anyway?”
“Y/n’s not my girl—yet, I don’t know. She hasn’t texted back,” Jungkook said worriedly, making Jimin stare at him strangely.
It’s not that he had anything against you personally, he just doesn’t get it. You’re a complete stranger who won’t stick around so why has his best friend chosen to hang out with you so much recently. What did you have over the people he’s known all his life? What do you bring to the table?
What did you gain from being around Jungkook?
You couldn’t explain it either. All you really knew was that a cute guy who sort of annoyed you in the beginning was starting to rub off on you. You’ve come to enjoy running into him and forcing yourself to open up because he’ll listen. It made you feel weird in a good way. You wanted to think about how fun it was to be around him and ignore all the worries you’ve had recently.
Even with your close friends, you’ve long since stopped talking about the people you were interested in. It wasn’t because you didn’t trust them or want their advice but sometimes you didn’t feel the need to say anything—especially if it was harmless fun. That’s why when Hyeri approached you about Jungkook, you weren’t sure what to say.
“It’s no fair,” Hyeri picked through a crate of strawberries, dropping them into a basket, “I wanted to find a little beach boyfriend, why’d you get lucky instead.”
“What are you talking about?” You asked dumbly, following her down the aisle of produce at the farmer’s market.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Hyeri said accusingly, “Jungkook.”
“We’re just hanging out,” You said with a shrug that made her laugh, pushing her sunglasses into her hairline. You knocked against one end of a green watermelon, hoisting it in your hands and continuing past her.
“Right, is that what you called your date the other night? Just a nice early dinner with a hot guy who asked to watch the sunset with you?” She said playfully, “You like him, don’t you.”
“I don’t know him,” You insisted. Yes, you’ve talked a lot with Jungkook recently and you’ve begun to talk about real things in your lives but did that really mean anything? “Besides, in a month and a half I’ll be in my new place settling back into the old routine. It’s just fun hanging out with him, nothing more, it’d be too complicated.”
“Whatever you say,” Hyeri sighed.
You’re lying, obviously you’re lying because you do sort of like him but you didn’t want to think about it. You didn’t want to think about what you could become, you only want to think about now and how things progress. Whatever happens, happens. That’s it. Could you pretend like you have no worries aside from who you’ll run into on the beach instead?
When your phone rang, you knew immediately who it could’ve been and although Hyeri walked ahead, acting like she couldn’t hear it, she was clearly listening. When you answered Jungkook’s call, he was quick to ask about your plans for the upcoming weekend.
“You want to take me sailing?”
Despite the early hours where the sun has yet to shine through, you still couldn’t wrap your mind around it. Even walking along the dock following after Jungkook who led the way through the darkness of the starry sky. “Or are you plotting my murder?”
“Which would you prefer I do?” He asked teasingly, looking back at you with a grin, “But seriously, it’ll be fun.”
Fun wasn’t waking up before the sun did, nor was it following a man you barely know out to the sea. If it weren’t for Hyeri begging you to take up his offer, you wouldn’t be here right now.
The sailing yacht was bigger than you expected with a small cabin area below deck to sleep and wash up in. You’ve never been on a sailboat before but you didn’t think they would look this nice and clean.
“This is yours?” You asked, watching him put in the arm work to undo the rope that tied the boat to the dock.
“Um, yeah,” Jungkook answered blandly, “Kinda?”
“Kinda?”
“Yeah, it’s mine,” he cleared his throat, helping you carry your bag down to the room before bringing you back up to the galley, “I used to be on a sailing team when I was in school and after I graduated I got this for my friends and I.”
“Nice,” You looked around, still in shock at the size of the sails. It was a Beneteau Oceanis 48 with such a sleek, clean look you were scared to sit on any part of it. You wanted to ask how much it was but resisted the urge to, scared you’d sound rude.
Still half asleep, you watched Jungkook set sail behind the wheel, his jacket already off and the sleeves of his linen shirt.
“Sleep a little, we’ve got time,” he said lastly.
It went easy between you two, you felt comfortable and for some reason safe with him enough to letyourself relax around him. You can't remember falling asleep but at some point you had and when you were woken up it was with him dropping anchor in the middle of the open sea.
The waves were calm, breathtaking deep blue and you could see the line of gold separating the ocean from the sky. It was beginning to warm up but you still shivered in your thin sweater, looking up feeling awestruck by the view.
"Look who's finally awake," Jungkook said softly as he secured the wheel and came over to where you sat. He grabbed his jacket — that he had grown too hot for — and placed it over your front. You took in the light scent of his cologne that lingered on the Northface and thanked him, "You said I could sleep."
"I know," he sat across from you, looking at you with a gentle look on his eyes, "I did wake you up pretty early, but look at the view. Do you like it?"
"Yeah, it's nice," You leaned against the edge of the seat, staring down at the dark navy blue water, almost catching your reflection in it. The line of gold was beginning to widen and a circle of light was bouncing off the ocean beautifully. "If you plan on pushing me over the edge, now's the time."
"You're dumb," he laughed, kicking your foot with his playfully. You smiled, trying not to laugh as you looked at him, "Aren't you cold?"
"No, it's hard work getting a sail boat out and I was starting to sweat," Jungkook lifted an arm, flexing it, "But these guns never fail me."
"That's too bad, I was hoping you'd want to keep me warm but I don't want you to overheat," You teased, looking at him invitingly and his eyes shifted to the open space next to you. To set it off, you even winked.
"You know what, now that you mention it, being surrounded by this sea breeze is making me a little chilly," Jungkook pretended to shiver as he got up.
"The sun's rising, I'm sure you'll warm up again really soon," You said as he sat next to you, touching your leg and making you put it on his lap.
"Who knows, I'm suddenly freezing, come closer," he rested his arm on the back of your seat, pulling you onto his lap, "I heard body heat is good to warm up."
"You can always just put your jacket on," You pretended to argue making him roll your eyes, almost sassily.
"But you look so much better in it," He brushed hair out of your face that the wind blew over, finger softly tracing the side of your face.
"I hate to admit this but... you're too good to be true," You said honestly, shifting your gaze away, "Like, too perfect."
"But I'm not," Jungkook argued quietly, "I'm just... I don't know, I'm not acting like myself—or maybe I am and haven't realized it but I think it's you. I want to impress you."
You didn't know how to respond but he didn't mind. He was more focused on the soft glimmer in your eye as you watched the sky turn a powder blue with orange, hearing the seagulls and light whooshing sound of the sails.
It's bad how affected you're leaving him and you don't even know it.
"Y/n," Jungkook tried getting your attention again, leaned his head against your shoulder. You didn't have to say anything to know what he was asking. The first soft brush of his lips against your jaw had you succumbing to his effect. He tilted your chin with the tip of his fingers, catching your lips with his, finally.
How do you describe it?
How do you explain how soft and tender his lips felt? How his fingers grazing your skin sent a shiver down your spine and how he was surprisingly very loving with his affection?
This man who you barely knew and trusted too much was making you melt in his arms, kissing you and making it feel like you've never been kissed before.
"This is bad," he mumbled against your lips, pulling back to catch his breath, eyes still closed, "I really like you."
You gave him one quick peck of a kiss, sitting up, "Tell me all about it then."
Jungkook couldn't he'll but crack a grin, licking the taste of you off his lips. He wouldn't be able to shut up if he did.
You're beautiful, stunning, truly.
Even with your face in sand or your hair a mess, a scowl or pout, just beautiful to him. It was so stupid for him to be swayed by that but it's obviously what pulled him in first.
You were so mean—he thought, at least—but it never stopped him from approaching you. It's like he knew it wasn't your intention to come off so cold and when you'd joke back with him, he could see the hint of mischief in your eyes. It made him want to push your buttons or say something he knew would get a reaction from you.
You're different and he wishes it didn't sound so stupid like he knew you would think if he ever told you but you are. You're like no one he's met—really met, beyond surface level interests or habits. You responded differently, looked at him differently, treated him different.
"I won't shut up if I do," he said honestly, "Can't I just show you, instead?"
"How suggestive," you giggled, letting him kiss you again. There was more force to it this time, like he really meant it. The first one was firm and teasing, really testing the waters when his hand disappeared into your hair to keep you from pulling away.
You were spending the golden hour of the late sunrise with Jungkook sailing on a boat in the ocean. The view was amazing and his lips were so soft.
His lip ring is surprisingly warm when it brushes your lips, and his tongue feels slick against yours. He held you closely making you feel secure and safe [?], and at one point you made it onto his lap, practically straddling him.
You pressed closer to him eagerly and the movement makes his hands travel toward your hips for support, his jacket long forgotten on the floor. The seat was hard underneath him but if he mentioned it you might pull away and that's the last thing he wanted in the moment. Jungkook liked kissing you, he liked feeling your lips trail down his jaw and toward his neck where you didn't shy away from leaving open mouth kissed against his Adam's apple or under his ear.
"Y/n—" his hands circled around you tighter, "Have you gotten a good look at the cabin?"
Your brows furrowed momentarily, looking down the short steps to the cabin door where a big bed was seen through the window, "No, want to show me?"
You began to get up from Jungkook's lap, making his hands slide off down your hip, leading you to the cabin.
Jungkook wasn’t as subtle as he hoped to be when he pressed you into his chest, peppering your shoulder with light and teasing kisses taking you further into the room. A small smile played on your lips when you turned to face him, circling your arms around his neck.
He didn’t question it when you walked him toward the bed instead, making him sit down as you kissed and straddling him once more. You were a good kissed and Jungkook could attest to that by the way your tongue slid between his lips to seek his out. It was a surprise for you to be so forward with him but he wasn’t complaining at all. If anything it made him want to take it further. He wasn’t shy with his touches anymore and you could feel his hands circle down to your butt, pressing you firmly into his lap.
It was hard to ignore his arousal from your simple make-out. It was evident in his shorts and it made you want to keep going. You began to rock your hips against him lightly, feeling his growing bulge apply pressure between your legs.
“Can we get this off?” Jungkook asked about your jacket first, feeling you miles away and when you unzipped it, you pulled off your shirt too leaving him breathless, “You’re bolder than I thought.”
“Is that a bad thing?” You asked, watching his fingers trace down your bare sides, looking at your bra and chest. His finger hooked into the hem of your jeans as if to teasingly ask if they can come off next and you gave him the go ahead, starting to unbutton his shirt for him.
“Never,” he sighed, eyes closing when your hands touched his muscular chest. His hands snuck under her jeans playing with your underwear and grinding your hips against his worn more purpose drawing out a small groan in the process.
When your hips began to move on their own, teasing his aching member, he leaned forward to kiss along your neck, finding your pulse points with ease and reaching behind you for the clasp of your bra to get it off next.
Your arms circled his neck, hugging his head close to feel his lips on your skin and moved your hips with more determined rhythm. You’d be lying if you said his kisses weren’t turning you on and sending shivers down your spine. Jungkook slid your bra off letting it hit the floor while you wrestled his opened shirt off his shoulders and hugged him in a kiss.
“You’re so sexy,” Jungkook whispered, kissing the soft mound of your breasts, “Even when I had you in the ground covered in sand that’s all I could think about.”
“And here I thought it was my personality that drew you in,” You teased, letting him finally turn you on your back beneath him. He pulled your jeans off leaving you in your small slither of panty.
“Trust me, it did,” Jungkook said, kissing along your thighs, “Hurt my feelings that the pretty girl from the beach couldn’t care less about me.”
“A real shot to your ego,” you raised your knees
Jungkook leaned forward to catch your lips in a kiss, hovering over your body, “It really was.”
A small gasp left your lips as you felt his hand trace down the curve of your sides, slipping into your underwear and feeling the soft slope of your nether region. Your thighs parted more, letting his finger tease your clit.
“I wasn’t too impressed in the beginning,” You joked, lifting your hips when you felt his finger begin to feel around your folds, surely finding where the slick began to puddle. He used the wetness to coat your clit, raising a light sigh from your lips there he swallowed in a kiss.
“I’m well aware,” Jungkook whispered against your lips. You rose your hips to meet his hand, finding some stimulation that made your body respond with raise bumps in pleasure, “What about now?”
As he asked, his coated middle finger finally pressed into your wet cunt, with his palm against your clit and grinding into it as he pushed his finger into the hilt. You dug your nails into his tatted forearm to ground yourself against the sudden feeling and holding back the loud moan that almost slipped. He smiled, clearly amused by your reaction. He maneuvered his hand around so his thumb could find your clit and with it covered in your arousal it made the slide so much easier.
Jungkook’s long finger slide into your pussy with slight restriction, curling when he pushed all the way in and finding that sweet spot that had your breath hitching and probing at it. You were at a loss for words and he loved it, it made him want to kiss you as he brought you pleasure with just his hand. He wasn’t even asking for a response anymore, he was just trying to tell you how he’s felt while he makes you feel good on an expensive sail boat in the sea.
The sunrise had long been forgotten and replaced by the thought of how good he made you feel and he was happy about that.
"Oh, fuck." You gasped, gripping his armas he hooks his finger at just the right angle. You didn’t even have to tell him that was the spot that made your toes curl, it’s like he just knew it.
"Like it?" He asked, repeating his previous action, kissing along your neck for added stimulation.
He could feel you on edge of orgasm by the way you pinched his arm but he didn’t care about the slight sting. He cared more for the glazed look in your eyes, walls tightening around his finger.
It’s like he knew exactly when the last push would be, and his pace grew more rough, ready to get you there and finally your body gave way to pleasure.
“Pretty,” Jungkook said softly, feeling your release around his hand, letting you ride out your high and pulling his hand back when you were ready. Your breathing was shallow and the sight of your breasts falling and rising with each breath was hypnotizing. When he pulled back, he couldn’t stand the constriction of his shorts anymore. Without thinking, he licked your release off his hand before yanking his shorts down along with his usual Calvin Kleins.
Jungkook didn’t say he was ready to go further, but you could tell just by the way his cock sprung free from its confines. It was pretty and long, not too think nor skinny and fit his physique perfectly. He stroked himself here and there for some friction but didn’t hurry you along. Instead, he let you catch your breath as he watched in awe at the fact that he had you in bed with him.
“Come here,” you motioned for him to come closer with your index finger and sat up, fully naked before him and getting him in the bed with you. Jungkook followed in a trance, kissing you thoughtlessly and nearly biting your lip in surprise when your fingers touched the tip of his dick, feeling the pre-cum that leaked from the slit.
You barely had your hand wrapped around his pretty cock, giving him a small jerk up his length when his fingers circled around your waist to stop you, “Not tonight.”
You tried to read the expression in his eyes but he just kissed you lovingly, “I want to feel you, all of you.”
“What a giver,” You said playfully, kissing the tip of his nose and laying back with him following after you. He held your legs apart, lining his cock at your entrance, “Can I? I’ll pull out.”
You gave a nod of your head, looking down as his cock pressed forward, aching to feel the tightness of your wet walls hugging him.
You’re not sure what came over you then, but the feel of his dick pushing past your entrance made you feel bold. Your leg hooked around his waist, pulling him forward and watching how his jaw went slack. Jungkook looked down at how eagerly you took him and his arms nearly gave out, eyes rolling as he processed the sudden pleasure.
You still needed a moment to adjust to his size and he practically fused himself to your body, trapping you beneath his muscular figure, “Fuck.”
His movements were slow at first, thrusting gently to find what felt good and what didn’t, running gentle hands over your breasts so he could feel the fullness of them. When he thrusted his hard length in, his thumbs were circled your nipples, pulling his cock out and pinching at them. Something about the leg you had around him drove him wild, feeling your territoriality over him even if there was a chance it meant nothing.
“Jungkook,” you moaned softly at a particularly harsh thrust, scratching at his back unintentionally, “Feels good.”
Something was happening inside of him that he couldn’t explain. He wanted to say things he shouldn’t, things that were too soon to admit and he had to bite his tongue to stop himself. The only other way he could stop himself from sounding like a fool was with his mouth on you and the closest thing to him were your perky nipples.
Jungkook never slowed the steady pace he set fucking you but with the added pleasure to your chest, his tongue circling around your nipple and sucking lightly, had you seeing stars. You’d nearly forgotten where you were till you looked out the windows, seeing the clear sky and the pretty water making this all feel more surreal.
Jungkook hugged you close, hand gripping your thigh and inching it higher around himself as he fucked you rougher, taking pleasure in bringing you close again and this time around he couldn’t bother being as gentle. He wanted to, he swears, but he’s so turned on by you that he couldn’t be patient at all. You didn’t even seem to mind when his hips slammed into yours, turning you to lay on your side, fucking yourself on his cock with more vigor knowing he needed release too, and let him manhandle you however he wanted. His free hand snuck into your hair, pulling slightly when he dragged you into another kiss and groaned against your lips.
Neither of you had to say anything to know you were both close, and it made you impatient. You moaned at the roughness, letting yourself get lost in the feeling unripe you couldn’t take it anymore, once again cumming with little control of yourself. He held you so roughly to his body, not letting you go as you struggled to catch your breath and you knew it was taking everything in him to not let go inside you. That’s the only thing that had you pushing away from him, trying to sneak a hand down to touch him but the second you did, his cock spilled thick cum into your hand, creamy and white. You wanted a taste badly.
Jungkook moaned your name quietly, feeling pathetic to cum so easily by your hand but he couldn’t hold back anymore. It took him longer to bounce back than you, and when he opened his eyes he caught you pressing a finger to your tongue, taking a small taste that left him shuddering.
“Don’t do that,” his voice said, raspy and tired tone.
“You did it to me,” You said, licking your finger clean, “And you made a mess.”
“Sorry,” he couldn’t help but pout, looking surprisingly cute to you even with his hair a sweaty mess and the afterglow of sex on his naked body, “Kiss?”
A grin spreads over his face when you lean in to kiss him, happily kissing you back more gently now.
“Would I sound wimpy if I said I needed a nap?” It pained him to even ask but he was suddenly so tired and relaxed in your arms. It made him feel unmanly to even think to ask but he couldn’t help it, he could lay in bed all day with you if it was an option, “We can worry about breakfast later—perhaps when it’s consider lunch or an afternoon snack.”
You laughed softly, snuggling into him further, “Let me at least clean up a little and then we can sleep for as long as you want.”
Jungkook smiled happily, letting you leave to the bathroom as he hurriedly tugged the bedding off. He wasn’t too worried about the boat, knowing he properly set anchor and the water was calm today. If anything the light rocking of the boat could lull him to sleep if you were in his arms.
“Are you sick of me yet?” Jungkook asked, watching you drift in and out of sleep as he drove away from the shipping dock. It was the evening and the hours spent in the open sun was exhausting, even with how sweet it felt. At least he thinks you might feel that way.
If he were being honest, he could still be with you longer. There hadn’t been enough hours in the day for him, “Or do you think we could still get dinner?”
“We can, but I need a shower, I’m sticky and sweaty,” You said absentmindedly, catching the way he bit his lip with a smirk that had you smacking his arm, “Don’t be gross.”
“I didn’t say anything,” He laughed, grinning as he thought about the way you said his name when you were naked in his arms, “But, I want to take you to my family home. My parents are gone for the weekend and it’s closer than my apartment.”
“Are you hiding your apartment from me?” You asked jokingly.
“No, but I live with Jimin and I want to be selfish and have you to myself longer so your place is out of the question too,” Jungkook admitted.
“And what am I supposed to wear? I didn’t really pack clothes,” You looked down at his linen shirt you currently wore, only panties underneath thinking you’d be going home after the eventful day.
“Something mine, you look good in what’s mine,” Jungkook said with a wink, “I’ll make us something nice—maybe get something ordered…”
“Oh I guess.”
You didn’t question the drive away from the houses lining the beach in his pick up truck. You stared out the window and watched the view turn more scenic would hillsides and small rocky edges, more nature-esque.
Songs played quietly that Jungkook would sometimes hum along too with a perfect pitch that had looking over at him from time to time. When he would catch you looking, he’d stop immediately and tighten his hands over the steering wheel.
He was nervous.
His family home was empty and he could go to it whenever he pleased but did he really want to bring you along? Open up another side of himself just for a few more moments alone? Did you mean this much to him?
Swallowing his nerves, he turned down a private road with tall trees and white gravel. It stretched on for a mile before ending at private gates. You sat up, slightly more aware of what was going on when he lowered his window to type in some code, hearing someone speak through an intercom, ‘Welcome home, sir.’
He could feel your eyes on him and he just smiled, “Wash up first?”
“Please,” You said, looking away, staring straight ahead at the colonial house that appeared in view. It was obscenely large with endless windows and greenery surrounding it making it all the more intimidating.
This is his family home, yours couldn’t compare.
Still, you tried not to question it.
Jungkook didn’t bother driving back to the private garage, he pulled up to the circular driveway by the fountain of a water nymph and got out of his truck, opening the door for you. It should’ve dawned on him that something was going to happen. The lights were on when no one should be home.
Still, he’s already brought you this far.
“Jungkook?”
His hand stopped at the handle of your door, just barely pulling it open but with little room for you to step out. You stopped moving instantly, watching the way he visibly stiffened, face hardening as he looked off to the distance.
“You’re here, what a surprise.”
“Mom,” he turned around immediately, “I thought you guys weren’t home.”
“Well, if you would answer the phone, when I call, you would know your father’s trip was canceled,” a women in a tweed Chanel suit and a tight smile stepped down from the entrance, “You’ve brought company?”
As if being summoned, Jungkook looked at you, motioning for you to step out and although you didn’t want you, you did—undressed and exhausted. The woman was stunning and classy like you’d never seen, somewhat taken back that she was the mother of the beach boy you’ve met.
Not to mention, it was too early to meet anyone’s parents. It made you sick to your stomach even as you smiled politely, “Hello.”
“This is Y/n,” Jungkook reached for your hand, “We were just stopping by.”
“When you thought no one was home?” She asked, making you look at him. He was grown, clearly, but still scolded and questioned like a child.
Jungkook didn’t say anything but you could feel him squeeze your hand when her eyes traveled over your barely dressed figure. He at least had on a t-shirt that was in his truck and his shorts.
“Why don’t the two of you clean up, we’re having dinner on the terrace,” She said looking unimpressed, “I’ll have a maid find you something more appropriate.”
“Oh, we don’t want to bo—“
“We have guests so don’t make a scene, I already had to make an excuse for why you wouldn’t be here, you can’t leave now. Even if you do have sudden company.”
That shut Jungkook up quicker than you’d ever seen. It wasn’t that you couldn’t catch on to what was happening, but more so you could wrap your mind around the reality of it. You moved almost as robotically as he did, sneaking into the house unsure what was going on aside from doing as told. He took you into his bedroom, pulling you in the bathroom with him and washing up. His entire demeanor changed and you didn’t know what to do.
“Should I go? I could probably get Hoseok to get me,” You told him honestly. You weren’t upset — not yet. As far as you knew, Jungkook might have a complicated relationship with his parents meeting the person he’s sleeping with, especially considering how recent things are with you. Neither of you are ready to meet the family, it’s just fun summer things. You’d say the biggest shock was that Jungkook seemed to be wealthy and likes to keep that private but does that make you worried?
“No, I want you here with me,” Jungkook said, swallowing hard and opening the door to his room, finding something folded on the edge of his bed. He handed it to you without much thought as he got dressed.
It was nothing crazy, just a light colored sundress and you had to dry off quickly so you could join him downstairs. Part of you wanted to call your friends but what would it mean if you did?
“What a surprise, brother, and I see you’ve finally brought someone new along,” an arrogant voice spoke up from the large dinner table on the terrace. It was a candle lit dinner with six guests aside from the two of you and you immediately reconciled a familiar face.
“Hello, sorry for keeping everyone waiting,” Jungkook said stiffly, “This is Y/n.”
“We’ve met,” Yeaun said when the others looked at you confused. Their greetings were bland and uncaring but you tried not to think too hard on it, “On the beach, right?”
“Yes, I remember,” You tried to smile, looking at Jungkook just as confused as everyone.
“Yeaun is a family friend,” Jungkook explained to you.
“An ex-fiancée,” His mother said coldly, making him freeze.
Why was she saying this?
“Darling,” an older version of Jungkook with salt and pepper hair said to his wife in warning.
“We’re on good terms though,” Yeaun smiled tightly, “Things have been changing recently, haven’t they?”
She asked you like you would know—like you were the reason for it but you were too stuck on what she was to care.
Ex-what?
“So, are you still going with the firm?” A woman sitting next to his brother said to him. That made his brother laugh, “He’s still playing around Jin’s auto shop.”
“Is everyone already eating? What about us?” Jungkook looked at you suddenly, “Should we get served?”
The firm? What firm? What fiancée? What was going on?
“Y/n, what about you? Are you new in town? Who are your parents?” The dad asked, making all heads turn toward you, a member of who you assumed was house staff, began to serve you and Jungkook dinner.
“Dad,” Jungkook tried to say but he didn’t get very far.
“I’m just here for the summer, I’m from the city,” You told him with a smile.
“How’d you meet?” Jungkook’s mother asked.
“On the beach,” You told her plainly. She didn’t say anything in response but you could feel the way her eyes narrowed at you like she was trying to read you. You weren’t lying or anything but it felt like she didn’t believe you. Under the table, Jungkook’s hand touched your thigh but in all honesty you didn’t even want him to touch you. It’s not anything serious, you were just confused and uncomfortable in this situation. He should’ve just taken you home or let you call Hoseok.
“A city girl, huh? You must have a big job, right? What do you do?” His brother asked.
“I’m in between work right now,” You said honestly, just as you had told Jungkook who seemed to be open to that idea and understood why. Sometimes, doing the same routine in a career you didn’t have passion anymore left you drained and you needed a change of pace. You explained this to him and he made it all feel okay so why were you being looked at strangely?
“So wasting your time over here is what you want to be doing?” His mom asked.
Jungkook took a deep breath, wanting to speak up but unsure how to do so. He obviously hasn’t told you anything but his relationship with his family is complicated. The added guests made it all the worse. Has he always been such a coward?
“That’s what it seems like,” You said bitterly, looking over at Jungkook with a cold expression.
You don’t remember much of the rest of dinner, only that you hated every second of it and how you just wanted to go home. You checked out of all conversations after a while and watched the tension between them with little interest. What you’ve learned is that Jungkook is good at keeping things from others even when he begs to know more himself.
The irony, it was annoying. By the end of dinner, you didn’t care to know what any of them had to say, much less Yeaun who everyone continued to remind you was his ex that they all loved dearly. They were saying it for a reason, like if you wanted to take her place and be with Jungkook who belonged to a group of people who won’t let outsiders in.
“Well at least she’s pretty,” you remember being told.
“I’m sorry,” was the first thing Jungkook said after dinner but you didn’t bother to acknowledge him. Instead, you led the way to his truck so he could take you home.
The car ride was so eerily silent that it felt deafening. He tried and tried to talk to you but you just ignored him, not caring at all for whatever might come out of his mouth and he can’t really blame you.
“You lied to me,” You said finally, staring holes into his dashboard.
“I didn’t mean to,” Jungkook admitted, “Everything I’ve said to you is true.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes and looking out the dark window, “Just take me home.”
“Y/n,” Jungkook reached across the middle console for your hand but you crossed your arms over your chest and shifted away from him even more, “I’m sorry, we should’ve just gone somewhere el—“
“Look, it was never going to work out anyway so just take me home and we can both go on with our lives because clearly we’re nothing alike at all,” You said bitterly, “I was just dumb enough to believe we are. It’s been a long day.”
He wanted to argue but for the first time since he’s met you, he’s left silent. He’s a coward, he’s aware of that now and it felt sickening to realize it finally. He’s always been the type to do what he’s told, follow the plan his parents have set out for him and this is the first time he’s realizing how much he hates it.
When the truck pulled up to the front of your house, he began to unbuckle his belt, quietly saying, “I’ll walk you to the d—“
The car door slammed shut in the middle of his words and although he knew it was better for him to give you space, he just couldn’t. He couldn’t let you walk off on him without trying to really hear him out—just let him get his thoughts together. As pathetic as it sounds, Jungkook feels like a kid again. He feels anxious to be ignored or scolded.
Without a care for gentleness, he swung his side door open to the large truck and got down to follow after you, “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t realize they would be home and if I did I wouldn’t have invited you over. I just wanted to spend more time with you.”
“That’s not the problem, Jungkook,” you said back to him, “The problem is that you’re so secretive about everything and fine, whatever, you don’t have to tell me but don’t act like you want to know anything about me then if I can’t expect the same.”
You released a sigh at his silence, turning away, “Go home.”
Your front door slammed in his face shutting him out and he could see people staring through the window; probably overhearing everything and he wanted to disappear. When had things gotten so complicated for him?
He missed the days when he didn’t have anything to worry about but now that he’s starting to see the people around him more clearly, he’s realizing he doesn’t like it at all.
It took you days to think about Jungkook again, mostly because you wanted to ignore him and he was making it easy for you. He has only messaged and called a couple times before he got the hint that you don’t want to talk to him and gave up.
You can’t tell if you preferred that or wished he kept trying but you had to move on. The two of you weren’t dating, you hooked up on a boat before realizing his family are pretentious assholes and wanted nothing to do with him now.
You know he’s not his family but at the same time these are people he surrounds himself with and if he was attracted to someone like Yeaun, there was no way he was into you too. You barely know her but you know enough to see that you’re nothing alike.
“What are you looking at?” Hoseok asked, looming over your shoulder.
“Apartments, I still can’t find anything good, I think I need to go home for a few days and do some in-person tours,” You told him with a sigh, scrolling through listings, sitting alone in the beach themed living room that looked fresh out of a cape cod magazine.
“It’s not a quick commute,” He said, “Besides, I already said you can stay with me till we find you a place, there’s no rush.”
“I know, but there’s nothing better to do,” You said with a shrug.
“It’s called avoiding,” Hyeri said, sitting on the edge of the couch, “So Y/n’s probably not gonna come back if she leaves now. You’re mad at Jungkook.”
“No, I’m not,” you rolled your eyes, “That’s over and I haven’t done anything but laze around all day. I need to get my shit together.”
You just want to go home.
“What’s up with you? You’ve looked mad all day,” Jimin pointed out as he mindlessly dug his feet into the sand. He’s dragged Jungkook out after days of not seeing him but his friend couldn’t care less about the beach or hanging out with him. He actually didn't want to hang out with anyone.
“Is it the thing from the other night?” Jimin asked like it was so simple, “Yeaun was talking about it, so you’ve introduced your new girl to the family and it didn’t go so well?”
“Jimin.”
“Yeah?”
“Are you really my friend?” Jungkook asked, sitting at the bottom of one of the net posts, squinting up at the sun.
“Are you kidding? I’ve been around since you were in diapers, you’re like a brother to me,” Jimin said with a laugh, “I just don’t agree with some of the decisions you make.”
“Like?” He pressed for more.
“I don’t know, I just think you have a lot going for you and lately you’ve been acting like you don’t,” Jimin said, shrugging, “You passed the Bar Exam a while ago and instead of going to your dad’s firm you’re wasting time at Jin’s. You don’t answer the phone when your family calls and you ignore your friends for…”
“Say it.”
“For some chick you don’t know,” Jimin scoffed, “I don’t get it. It’s always been you and I, Chaehi and Yeaun. Always. Since we were kids and suddenly you break it off with one of the only girls who’s been here for you and find someone new to entertain yourself with. It’s weird.”
“Asshole,” Jungkook rolled his eyes, kicking off the ground and leaving his friend behind. He wasn’t sure where he was going but he just wanted to be alone.
Were you really just some girl? Is that what everyone thought? Yes, things had been incredibly easy with you but did that mean you weren’t anything more than a fling? As dramatic as it sounds, every interaction with you has been probably the best he’s ever had.
You’re funny, pretty, smart, and so much more than he ever imagined. You pulled him in and pushed him away in the best way possible. Of course it’s been strange getting rejected but you do it in a way that tells him to keep going. You were always there to listen to his obnoxious flirting and when he did decide to tell you anything about himself, you didn’t judge.
He’s so stupid for not doing the same. He wanted you to open up to him because he wanted to get closer to you but he didn’t allow himself to do it too. It was unfair so he understands why you’re mad but he can’t stand it.
He wants to call you but would you want to listen?
Jungkook found himself walking toward the boardwalk hoping the bustling energy from midday was enough to distract him. He thinks you remind him of something different, being somewhere different where he didn’t have to worry so much about what he did or who he was with. Jimin’s right that lately Jungkook hasn’t been doing anything to be apart of his family’s plans for him. He’s kind of been trying to live in the moment and clearly that wasn’t so bad. That’s how he met you and besides, it’s not like he hasn’t been thinking about his future. He just doesn’t see it here in this small town where everyone knows his name. He sees himself somewhere far in the city where he could just blend in with everyone else and do what he wants to do, be with who he wants to. It’s you, it’s seriously you.
You’ve opened up his eyes a little and he hates that his lack of honesty has pushed you away. He can’t even blame it on the uncomfortable dinner because if he wasn’t such a coward, he would’ve done more. He can’t deny that there’s something up with him and he has no doubt in his mind that you have something to do with it. Barely knowing you has done so much more for him than the people he’s known all his life.
Your best friends wanted you to forget about your plans on leaving, knowing you too well to believe you would come back. You’re not the type to do so. If you set your mind on leaving, even for a short time, you wouldn’t come back especially knowing you could run into Jungkook whenever. Maybe you were a coward too because all you ever wanted to do was run away when things get complicated and the last thing you had wanted was for this trip to get that way too.
They dragged you out of the house for a late lunch that you weren’t even hungry for and as a way to distract you but it did the complete opposite of that. Instead, you were brought to that restaurant you came to with Jungkook and the same server who you’ve seen now talk with a girl Yeaun was always around. They were friends and it should’ve been the first sign that you would never get him. You were never part of the plan around here, you were a step back to everyone involved with him and it made you bitter.
How’d you catch the attention of someone so unavailable?
“Come on, I haven’t bought a single thing here, I’ve been too busy working on my tan,” Hyeri said, pulling you along behind her to a clothing stand of sundresses, “We’ve got a few more weeks here, I think it’s time I fit the vibe, right?”
“Yeah,” You told her, looking through the rack of dresses absentmindedly. You wandered away just a little, to a table filled with jewelry and ran your fingers over certain metals and gems. You weren’t thinking much on what was going on around you, too distracted choosing between gold and silver to notice the person standing yards away looking stunned.
For the first time in over a week, Jungkook has found you again, on the beach, looking as breathtaking as usual. After all you’ve been avoiding him, he can’t help but hesitate. Does he approach you or not?
“Y/n?”
You looked up, brows furrowed slightly at who stood in front of you, “Yeaun.”
“Hey! How good to see you,” She smiled her usual tight smile that never quite reached her eyes. Up close you could see just how perfect she must seem to everyone from her height to her figure and tone of voice. She usually wore gold accessories and bikini tops or dresses. She was your perfect ‘Girl Next Door’ but if you paid enough attention to some of the things she said, you’d see how backhanded it all seemed.
“It was such a surprise to see you the other night. I guess none of us knew you were with Jungkook,” Yeaun said it so casually even if you could tell she was prying, “Where is he by the way?”
“Why don’t you ask his mother? The two of you seem close,” You tried not to sound bitter but you’re sure your body language gave away that you were. You searched for Hyeri who was looking at dresses on herself in the mirror and Hoseok left to get snow cones so once again, you were alone in her presence.
“Yeah, sorry about that, our parents go way back,” Yeaun said with a wave of her hand, “It’s a small town, y’know. Everyone knew we were high school sweethearts and when we got engaged everyone was so excited. You can imagine their surprise when we broke it off—sorry, you probably don’t want to hear about this again. I’m sure Jungkook has said enough.”
“It might sound strange but he doesn’t bring you up at all,” You told her, failing to say how you haven’t talked to him, “I guess he got over it a long time before anyone else did.”
“I guess so,” her stupid smile once again, “I like you, you’re good for him and I’m sorry if his family seemed closed off. They’re kind of exclusive with who they bring around. They don’t want just anyone around their sons. I’m sure you can see why, Jungkook is perfect, right? A lawyer in the making, athletic, kind…”
“Silver or gold?” You asked, holding up two different sets of earrings. She blinked in surprise, choosing one and trying to carry on, “What I mean is, he’s the whole package so everyone wants him but he also has a lot of responsibilities. If someone isn’t able to stand behind them all and support him… maybe they’re not the right fit—especially if they won’t stick around.”
You didn’t say anything for a moment, setting the earrings back down and smiling, amused by her audacity, “Who broke it off with who?”
“It was mutual.”
“Doesn’t sound like it was,” You said with a smile, beginning to walk away from her, “But don’t worry, I don’t usually like competing for someone’s attention. I guess I didn’t realize you did, so good luck.”
“Meaning?” Her eyes narrowed.
“Meaning, you’re wasting your breath talking to me because I don’t care what you have to say,” You said sweetly, “But it was so nice seeing you again, hopefully next time we’ll have something new to talk about.”
With that, you left her behind, nearly walking past Hyeri on the way, “Where you going?”
“My phone’s dying, I’m going the house,” you told her quickly, continuing to leave before anyone else could run into you.
“What’d you say to Y/n?” Jungkook asked, pushing his way through the crowds of people, getting to the stand too late and watching you walk away.
“Nothing,” Yeaun raised her hands in feigned surrender, “I was just catching up. Why so worried?”
“Where’s she going?” Jungkook asked Hyeri, ignoring Yeaun who called for him.
“To the house?” Hyeri said, confused by whatever she missed but she couldn’t even ask when Jungkook practically ran after you.
You cut through the beach instead of taking the long route down the street. You walked farther and farther away from him but he never stopped.
“Y/n! Can we talk?” He asks, catching you by surprise but you didn’t even act like it. You merely threw him a glance before walking faster.
“I’m kind of in a hurry,” You lied, stepping over the grassy parts in the white sand where you could see more residential properties.
“Look, I’m sorry. I really am, I should’ve been more up front from the beginning but I swear I didn’t keep things from you to hurt you,” Jungkook said, not stopping his pace even when he can see your house in the distance.
“It’s fine, I’m over it,” You told him, not turning back again as you looked up at the back deck of your house. You still walked closer to down the shore than the trail but you would get there soon.
“But I’m not, I… can’t stand the thought of you being done with me,” Jungkook said honestly, “Since I’ve met you all I can do is think about you and I’m kicking myself over letting you find things out in a hard way. I don’t like the way you were talked to and I should’ve said more but I didn’t and I regret it so much.”
“Jungkook, I don’t care,” you groaned, whipping around to face him, “I don’t care that you kept things from me. I don’t care that there’s something seriously wrong with your family or your ex fiancée. I don’t care if everyone thinks I’m not good enough for you and do you want to know why? Because it’s the summer and I’m not from here and it was fun to fool around in the moment but it’s too complicated now. I don't want anything to do with it. Are you getting it now? I want to go home and forget all about this.”
“You want to leave?” He asked, getting closer and closer, “And what happens then? We just never see each other again because I didn’t mean anything to you?”
“I guess if that’s how you’re seeing it—“
“Bullshit,” He scoffed, “I don’t care how long we’ve known each other or not, you want me just as much as I want you but you’re letting everything else get in the way. I’m sorry, I don’t know what else I can say or do to express that.”
“I’m leaving,” You argued, stepping away, “I’m going back to my normal life and you can go back to yours. Stop making this a bigger deal than it was.”
“What if I don’t want to? What if I think you’re the best thing to happen to me in a while and the thought of you just leaving doesn’t sit right with me? What if I say I don’t want this to just be a summer thing and I will follow you wherever you go if it means I get to talk to you more?” Jungkook kept going.
“Oh my god, Jungkook. Open your eyes! Join the real world, please!” You groaned, too frustrated to bother getting away, “We still don’t know much about each other, clearly. You live in this perfect little bubble with people who care about you and have plans for you. Why can’t you see that? Why are you wanting to throw that away for someone you barely know?”
“I’m not mad, I promise,” You tried to say, “Our lives are just too different and I’m ready to go back to mine—“
Your words were cut off by the rough pull into his arms. Jungkook’s touch was tender yet forceful, dragging your face toward his until your lips clashed messily and you kissed him back. Like a fool, you kissed him too despite everything you were saying.
It made your heart race, practically feeling his want for you and unable to help yourself from succumbing to it.
He can’t remember how long the kiss was, but long enough for his chest to grow heavy with a need to breathe that he had to pull away. His forehead rested against yours, “If you still want to leave… okay. I can’t make you stay but I really want you to, Y/n.”
You didn’t say anything, knowing you did want to leave. At this point it was more for yourself. No matter how harsh they were, they were right. You needed to get your act together and stop avoiding the problems in your life and that meant you needed to go home.
“And I promise that I’m going to see you again whether it be here or somewhere else,” Jungkook said.
FOUR WEEKS LATER
Jungkook was enamored by city life, he’s grown to learn about himself. Something about the tall skyscrapers and bustling traffic excited him like no other while other people hated them. Of course he missed the beach, surfing, volleyball, his friends… but this was for himself. He needed to do something on his own even if it meant doing something unimaginable but it was for the better.
He misses working with cars but he knows better. He put all that work into law school just so he could avoid it and do something else and he needed that to stop. Even if he didn’t work in his father’s firm, that didn’t mean he couldn’t get his foot in the door somewhere else.
After you left and all his distractions were gone, he was able to focus more on what he wanted to do. He got on his laptop to look at internships at other law firms and one day, in his endless searching, he found a small office to work in. It was in the city and it didn’t take him long to pack up his things and go to it. It started problems—of course— but it didn’t stop him, especially knowing you were somewhere here too.
You’ve barely talked since you moved back but he still misses you. He missed you and him on the beach or sailing in the sea. He misses making you laugh or roll your eyes and he wonders how you’re doing. He kept in touch with Hoseok and Hyeri after you left and when they followed suit at the end of vacation, he wanted to ask them about you but he knew better. He knows you weren’t just a fling but maybe one day you’ll come back and give it another shot.
“Iced Americano?”
“I didn’t order one,” Jungkook said as he sat alone at a table in a nice cafe. He didn’t look up until the cup was set down in front of him and when he was ready to tell the barista it wasn’t for him, he froze.
“I know, you don’t really give me ‘Coffee Drinker’ vibes but I figured it was worth a shot,” You sat down across from him.
“Are you stalking me?” He asked, dumbfounded and confused but more excited than anything. He couldn’t believe you were here, at the same place as him by chance.
“Well, I was going to ask the same, this is my usual stop before work and I’ve never seen you here before,” You said, continuing the conversation with him like it never ended.
Jungkook couldn’t help but smile, “Well, you see, I’m new to town and trying new places since this is on my way to work.”
“Is it?” You asked, “You must live around here.”
“As it turns out I do,” Jungkook cleared his throat, “It’s a recent move but one I don’t regret.”
“How are you?” You asked with a shy smile and flushed cheeks, the autumn air beginning to take over.
“Better now—after this coffee I mean,” he teased, taking a sip and scrunching his face in disgust.
You bit your lip in thought, “Actually um, it’s good I’ve run into you. I think there’s some things we should talk about but I have to get to work soon.”
“Well I still have your number, and we can always catch up over dinner?”
“Yeah, I’d like that,” You smiled nervously, standing up, “Tonight?”
That made his heart race, “It’s a date.”
::.
holy shit that took forever for me to update
idk how I feel about this but also after a while I think too hard on my work and can’t look at it anymore so please lmk when you think
permanent taglist
most of u are new but I tried to include some of my old, active members of the taglist and if I forgot about u pls lmk <3
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curryshesus · 4 months
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jeon jungkook fics that own my mind, body, heart, and soul
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in other words, this is a collection of my favorite jk fics on tumblr! if you enjoyed any of these fics as much as i did, pls remember to support the authors by interacting with their post. part 2 | other bts members
➺ bitchin - by @kinktae
summary: the 80s were a time of choices. which perm was right for you? what color neon would you wear next? none of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with jeon jungkook.
➺ idealizations concerning real life relations - by @venusiangguk
summary: jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return.
➺ hotter than hell - by @chateautae
summary: jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.
➺ jump then fall (into you) - by @writtenwhalien
summary: bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?
➺ too late to dream - by @kookslastbutton
summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.
➺ the forgotten spaces- by @oddinary4bts
summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?
➺ when the end comes - by @oddinary4bts
summary: Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook? **sequel to the forgotten spaces
➺ falling - by @starshapedkookie
summary: soulmate (noun): a person who is bound to another through the strongest level of emotional and physical connection. one is given a name on the body upon 18 years of age and any transgressions against the laws of soul-bonding will not occur without harm.
➺ love alive - by @jamaisjoons
summary: a year after you and jungkook break up, the two of you meet at your brother’s party.
➺ changes in between - by @taegularities
summary: Becoming the roommate of Jeon Jungkook is the biggest change you’ve ever gotten thrown into - but little do you know that the addition of another man will bring even further turbulence into your (love) life.
➺ falling skies - by @fortunexkookie
summary: Jeon Jiyeon was your childhood best friend; her brother, Jungkook, was something else entirely. You used to be friends, but then he had gone from endearingly frustrating dumb boy to card-carrying fuckboy so fast it had given you whiplash.
Despite the teasing and fighting, Jiyeon realized how Jungkook felt about you long before he did - it was a twin thing - and if you were her sun, and he was her moon, then she just wished she could show you how he reflected your light.
➺ sugarplum elegy - by @bymoonchild
summary: You know no bounds nor depth with Jungkook. While your fuck buddy loves sleeping in your bed and doing laundry for you with his favourite fabric softener, you are in love with a mysterious honeyed, velvety voice on Soundcloud. All’s fine, until you find out that the voice that metaphors your heart to a sweet sugarplum melody actually belongs to the boy who has been taking up a special spot in your bed and in your heart, strumming at your heartstrings all this while. Or, Jungkook has one braincell, but it’s heart-shaped.
➺ an abundance of mondays - by @diortae
summary: "why the fuck would it be easy? you’re disgustingly in love with your best friend. of course it’s complicated.” he pauses to roll his eyes, as if he hasn’t just laid out the most secret parts of you here in the middle of the campus dining hall.
➺ five dates - by @kpopfanfictrash
summary: “Ten dates,” he nods, smile tugging at his lips. “Ten dates, to decide if you want this – want me – or want me to go. Ten dates to get to know me. Ten dates,” he says, oddly soft, “to fall in love with me.” Which then becomes five.
➺ here comes the bride, all dressed in pride - by @hansolmates
summary: You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend
➺ if i told you - by @gukyi
summary: in order to pay for university, jeon jungkook decides to market his most valuable asset to the wealthy socialites of campus: himself. donning a suit and tie, tousled hair, and glasses (to look smarter), he becomes every rich daughter’s dream: the perfect boyfriend to bring to balls, dinners, and business gatherings. all while you watch from the sidelines, only able to dream of having that much money to buy yourself what you really want: him.
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anantaru · 4 months
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GENSHIN + BREAK UP, MAKE UP
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— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — you fuck your ex boyfriend and shocker, you love it ᰔ
— ꒰ including ꒱ — alhaitham, ayato, heizou, wriothesley x fem! reader
— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — ex boyfriend trope, slightly toxic & mean boys, bratty! reader ??? dirty talk, oral (male! receiving), fingering, cowgirl position, cumming inside, lots of cum lol, dom characters
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— ꒰ ALHAITHAM ꒱
"hey, don't insult me now," alhaitham looks at you with a prized confusion in his eyes— while also taking care of your bodies needs and desires, his cock pressing deeply in you. "what's with the attitude i hear?" his voice was clearly hinting at a hazed tone as he pants against your wet cheek, your tits flushed against his solid chest.
you gasp at him, curving your fingers into his hair to pull it, "w-what attitude?" your hips involuntarily buck into his cock so he would hopefully get the hint and continue to move, more so stop being so annoying for once in his life.
"you're hiding it from me," he whispers cruelly, "don't act stupid now, aren't you so smart?" as his hips begin to grind through your tight hole, a warm press slowly distending in your cunt and swelling in your belly.
"you hide your moans from me, fuck, you brat, you know what that does to me," under the cover of a shaken exhale, he shoves you into the mattress even further— no mercy, no signs of previous affection, only a raw and pleasuring handle.
archons, how much you loathed the way he always had you figured out this quickly.
how, just how.
but well, it's not like you were a couple anymore, correct? so why would you give him the pleasure of hearing you? knowing full on well he finds it to be the best part whenever he fucked you.
just so he could pride himself again? scrap that, he doesn't deserve it, nor to indulge into every drop of desire you give him.
"hah, you're so weak alhaitham," you bite back a whimper, "still so weak for me," as your hole clenches, throbs and milks against his awfully hard cock before you look at him through a wet expression, his hair soused and messy sticking all over his forehead, pressed into the light sheen of sweat across his face, "or maybe you aren't doing a good job,"
it's dangerous— playing that game with your ex. but it's also worth the gamble.
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— ꒰ AYATO ꒱
like a puppy, you preciously kneel between ayato's legs, slightly leaning against one of his muscular thighs— one hand proudly holding his cock in your grasp to stroke him, your wet tongue circulating over the leaking slit just how he liked it.
but that familiar infatuation from months ago, when you were still considering yourself a team, that disgustingly known taste of your tongue on his cock made the yashiro commissioner twitch in your hand— is it desperation in his movements? or longing?
it reminds him all too much on how things used to be.
when you were in a relationship, of course, "in love", and where fucking you wasn't just fucking to neither of you, it was making love.
a longing that filled the whole breast with its mad virus.
it was much, much. he could never argue against the fact that you were the only one who could make him fall to his knees.
you flick the tip of your tongue back and forth over the inflamed head, teasing the slit and making him shudder, finding it more and more satisfying to have someone within such position under your grasp, the constant press of need and attention on your cunt only coming second.
"y-your mouth feels so fucking good," he heaves and embarrassingly coughs out right after— well, it's not that deep? because hey, a commissioner doesn't curse now, does he? but he did it for you, always.
how were you able to always coax that out of him?
your hand tightens around his erection, adding shallow yet precise pumps over his shaft as you cup his balls roughly, massaging them in your palm and wetting them with your saliva.
he's already wet of both his pre and your spit, yet you do not waste any chance to spit on his tip again, again and again until your cheeks and chin where littered with filth, finding it rather enchanting whenever ayato moans disgustingly hot.
chest rising, falling again, groans hitching at the feeling of your saliva sliding down his tip.
"i want to touch you too, come on now, don't you want me to touch you?" he begins to whimper, stroking over your head affectionately as you look up at him, flexing your throat, grabbing at his shaft more firmly.
he continues, although it gets harder to breathe, "don't you want my fucking hands on you, come on, admit it," fuck, ayato was so pent up— from work? from going through a messy break up? from being alone?
archons who was he fooling besides himself? it's due to how much he has missed you, missed this, missed your scent all around him.
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— ꒰ HEIZOU ꒱
"oh your so wet, well look at this, look at this all over my hand,"
"some things never change, hm?" heizou moans softly and parades his glistening fingers to your blinking eyes as you whined out, trying to shift from his body hovering on top.
it's futile— not because you actually want him to stop, but because you really wanted this, despite him being so embarrassing and blunt about it.
what little movement you managed to coax from your hips merely aroused you further as heizou stuck his fingers back into your cunt— two slippery digits scissoring you hard, reaching deeper and floating inside you like inside water before rubbing his thumb back and forth your clit.
your thoughts were sluggish, and you found yourself overwhelmed due to the fact that your body enjoyed it, and so did your mind.
you knew this was wrong, this shouldn't happen, this wouldn't make it easier for either of you in the long run. but you couldn't think beyond that when all you thought about was his next touch and buck of his hands thrusting into your cunt.
your skin tingles, ever hot as he presses and rubs and strokes until every inch of your being was shivering in need and regretting ever breaking up with him.
no matter how often you try to act like he isn't setting a fire along the slopes of your skin, the detective will never stop seeking you out for this, conquering your sinful spots until you're fucked out of your mind, only then he will get close to your ear and ask you to say that you regret ever letting him go.
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— ꒰ WRIOTHESLEY ꒱
"do you still fucking hate me?" there was a rumble emitting from wriothesley's chest, and for one long moment, he was consumed by nothing more other than your tight cunt riding him fiercely, "do you still refuse to admit that you secretly like this?"
if only he could shut up for just a damn second, just one.
"do you?" your eyes flew open to him in anger, your gaze aggravated in its entire embrace, how dare he mock this— but an expanding shock of his hips bucking into you forced a new bodily reaction from your shuddering frame, enough to override the otherwise enticing anger you were about to spit like venom into his proud face.
your back arches as you shoot him a dangerous glare— one that could easily get confused with a please please do fuck me harder, instead of hold your tongue you asshole.
because you see, don't act out on anger, instead luxuriate in the crushing weight of his cock between your legs, hard and heavy throbbing as you ride him, pleasure and fuck him hard— still pondering about how difficult it always had been to fit his entire length inside of you.
you let your legs shift apart more as your tits bounce in combination with your movements, your back arching as your pussy began to milk him fiercely, squelch and squelch as the deep, bloating throbs of his shaft scrub over the bends of your walls, until reaching your swelling belly.
you turn sensitive, he knows it, the duke can feel it.
"oh, come on now baby," pride gushes from his mouth as he tilts his head, tightly holding your waist before thrusting up. you wouldn't let him bath inside his confidence any longer as you lightly punch his chest upon hearing him use a damn petname.
"oh? you don't want me to call you that?"
"obviously not," you shake your head, wetting your lips, despite that, he could hear the arousal in your voice, "why are you clenching when i say it then? baby~" as he maintains his ardour, refusing to allow you to control your little get together as he mercilessly thrusts up into you, thick and heavy cock slipping in and out, your arousal running down his balls.
your moans are a little more breathless now, shaken as the pumping motions of his erection slapping against your pussy only grew needier.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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hwaflms · 4 months
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HAPPY NOW? ★ [ j.jh ]
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your family has been pressuring you for months to bring your boyfriend, jaehyun, over for dinner, and you think it’s really sweet that they like him so much. the only problem is that your “boyfriend” jaehyun, hates you.
———————————————————————
[☆] PAIRING. ex!jaehyun x f!reader
[☆] GENRE. angst, smut, fluff | fake dating?, exes to ??? au
[☆] WC. 19.9k (i don’t even know)
[☆] WARNINGS. angst, reader has anxiety, mentions of anxiety attacks, fighting, reader be lying a lot, reader has a little sister, crying, reader is kind of a dumbass, explicit content (piv smut), unprotected sex (don’t do this gang!), fingering, sex in public kinda, pls lmk if i forgot anything!!
[☆] NOTES. i’m so fucking annoyed with tumblr it’s not letting me insert images properly UGH this took me over 2 hours to upload man 🗣️ im pretty proud of this one ‼️ idek how it got this long but it’s my longest fic yet and it’s been sitting in my drafts for ages until i finally got the inspo to write it :p i want jaehyun so bad it’s not even funny tbh but anyway PLS GIVE ME FEEDBACK/A REBLOG LITERALLY ANYTHING IS APPRECIATED <33
———————————————————————
six months.
you haven't seen this door in six months.
it's funny because, this was a door you used to push open and walk through every other day, yet now you stand on the opposite side of it, unsure as to whether you should even be thinking of knocking.
your hand is raised to the door, shaped like a fist but you make no move to actually knock. you were aware that you still had time to bail out of this, that you could turn on your heel and make your merry way back to your sad little house and go back to pretending you're happy with the choice you made six months ago.
or you could just do what you came all the way here to do.
the weather seems to be in your favour, at least. the sun shines radiantly, making the temperature warm, but not too warm, and a cool breeze travels through the air in short intervals. the summer had begun early, birds chirping in their habitual singsong way and wild bougainvillea already flowering in various shades of pink and lilac. usually when the day starts off with good weather, the rest of it follows suit, and thus your day is made better. hopefully, this is the case for you today.
pausing for a short, morale-boosting intake of air, you tighten your fist and knock, knock, knock on the mahogany door, immediately regretting your decision as you feel your stomach churn and plummet. a good ten seconds pass, and you hear no reply nor movement from the inside of the house, and part of you is relieved because that means he may not be home.
more than happy to do a 180° and skip along joyously back to the metro that would take you home, your feet begin to make for that trip but your mind decides against it. you know that you are being overly dramatic, but even with being aware of this, your heart rate does not slow down one bit. you also know that what you've come here to do is more than just selfish, its pathetic and rather embarrassing. it's also a hugely unsavoury request, and if your roles were reversed, you'd most definitely laugh in his face and shut the door.
finally somewhat making up your mind with a quiet groan, you raise your clenched fist and rap against his front door again in a set of three. you nervously shift your weight from your right to your left foot, then back to your right and then once again to your left, the anxiety and anticipation not allowing you to stand still and relax, thinking that if he doesn't answer this time, you really will just return home.
"hold on, i'm coming!", a hurried, muffled voice calls from inside the house and you don't think your heart has ever beaten this fast in your life. not even during the one time you ran a marathon to prove a point to your friend chenle, and while you did show him that you didn't only run to get away from spiders, your body took its own sweet time to recover from that.
now you hear footsteps approaching the door from the opposite side of it, and you don't think you can handle anymore of this tortuous, build up of a wait because you are quite literally one step away from calling it a day and just sprinting your way out of there, just like you did on the last few metres of the aforementioned marathon, and you know he's nearing the door because the footsteps are getting clearer and clearer, and soon he's going to open the door, take one look at you and just slam the door right in your face, but not before spewing verbal explosives at you, which would be totally deserved since he has every right to just spit on you and tell you how you're a terrible, downright horrible human being completely unworthy of forgiveness and-
"sorry for making you wait so long, i was-"
if your heart rate was at its maximum speed before, now it just stopped.
standing in front of you, in the flesh, was the man who's heart you broke six months ago.
jaehyun had just about opened his door in a way that his body was sticking halfway out of it, but he was now frozen in that position, neither in nor out, just stuck there looking like he was contemplating his next move. he adorned a loose, white shirt that clung to his defined shoulders and chest, paired with a pair of red plaid pants with a patch of some different material stitched just above where his knee was. you'd recognise those pants just about anywhere, having worn them a number of times and being the cause of that strange patch with mismatched material (you'd tried to balance a pot of steaming hot ramen on your knee in order to move something, resulting in it causing a burn in the pant).
his attire tells you that he was either just about to eat breakfast, in the process of eating breakfast, or about to finish breakfast; jaehyun was not an early riser and he liked to take his time getting ready for the day.
apart from his slightly changed hair, jaehyun looks the same as he did before, if not better. his once shorter, straight, brown hair, was now a darker kind of black and longer in a silky, mullet-y, layered sort of way, the mullet part stopping just above where his shirt met his neck and the front bits falling on to his face in thin, soft wisps.
everything about the man was captivating and entrancing, but if you had to pick a specific feature that really takes the cake, it would have to be his eyes. his eyes, deep-set and fierce, always gave the impression that he was cold or unapproachable, whereas in reality, he was the opposite. as striking as they may be, they always carried a certain warmth to them.
while they still held the same intensity to them, the warmth was missing as he looked straight at you now. after the brief moment of confusion when he first opened the door dissipated, the familiarity had sunk in, and his expression now was more or less unreadable, but you still tried to make out what he was thinking and feeling- was it shock? anger? maybe even disgust?
"okay, are you going to just stand there or are you going to say something?"
you think it was largely a combination of the last two. in all your fidgeting and gawking, you'd forgotten to actually speak to the man who's door you'd just knocked on, leaving him standing there wordless and confused, an eyebrow raised as he waited for you to open your mouth.
you try to do so, so many words wanting to tumble out your mouth but an invisible gate seems to block it, so now you're just stood still with your mouth opening and closing soundlessly, looking like an idiot.
c'mon y/n, fucking say something, anything-
"how have you been?", is what you decide to go with to break the silence in the end, an awkward smile plastered on to your face. you realise before the sentence is even fully out of your mouth that that would be a really weird thing to start off with, seeing as you and jaehyun have had absolutely zero contact for six months, and are obviously not on the most wonderful terms.
jaehyun's eyebrows furrow, a look of clear disbelief on his face as he clutches his door handle a little tighter. he looks away with a sarcastic smile, shaking his head before turning back to look you dead in the eye. oh, he's going to slam the door on you, you just know it-
"really? 'how have you been'?", he questions incredulously, licking his bottom lip while an exasperated smile plays at them. funnily enough, his response is somewhat relieving to your pitiful self, because you weren't even expecting to hear a reply to what you said, you figured he'd just walk away. you would've. "we haven't seen each for six months since we broke up and 'how have you been' is the best you've got?"
you wince apologetically and bite your lip, playing with your fingers nervously as he quite literally stares you down, irritation written all over his face.
he waits a couple more beats for you to break the tense silence and speak but you are inwardly (and outwardly) struggling to word your thoughts, so he simply scoffs and backs away to return inside.
"okay wait, i didn't tell my family that we broke up and they keep pressuring me to bring you home for the holidays, so i would really like if you'd pretend you don't hate me and come with me."
you don't even want to open your eyes to witness his reaction to your blurted little confession, so you merely stand, frozen in place with your eyes squeezed shut tightly. a couple seconds pass yet you don't hear a door slam, a good sign, so you take that as an affirmative to open your eyes.
he doesn't say anything, or do anything either really, he just leans against his doorframe with another indecipherable expression. this irks you even though you know you have no right to feel irked, but the fact that you once had the ability to know what he was thinking and now don't bothers you to the core. plus, it leaves you feeling unsure as to whether to continue. he might just start laughing at you manically or angrily tell you to get off his property like some bitter, 60-year-old man, and either of these scenarios would be completely fair of him to do.
the heavy realisation that your request sounded absolutely delusional and conceited dawns upon you, and something about his irksome expression makes you feel like you should keep talking. "you have literally every right to just tell me to fuck off, and i don't even expect an answer, i don't really know why i even came here, oh my god- this is so fucking stupid, i'm so fucking stupid and honestly i don't know why you're still standing here listening to me ramble-"
"i need to get ready then. give me ten minutes."
✧ ──────── ✧ ──────── ✧
the front door you're stood at now holds a very different ambience to the previous one. while jaehyun's was quiet and peaceful, the front door to your parents house reveals that the inside is just bustling with activity. the chorus of kate bush's 'running up that hill' plays faintly from behind the door, so you figured that your dad must have brought out his old record player from the dusty attic.
jaehyun stands beside you, hands shoved into the pockets of his light grey hoodie that you feel he must be boiling in, because you're wearing a black tank top with some loose cargoes that you think you might have drenched with sweat.
the sweat would be from the burning heat, but also from the agitation you're really starting to feel. there are so many different ways this dinner could go. what if jaehyun suddenly tells them the truth? then everyone in the room would hate you, and rightly so. you don't want to have to explain to your parents why you broke up with him; it's a stupid fucking reason, if you can even call it that, and it made you completely miserable. how were you supposed explain to your little sister that you and jaehyun aren't together anymore? you suppose relationships are a totally foreign concept to her young mind, but you were sure that she knew you and jaehyun loved each other very much. and you knew she loved jaehyun very much.
he does not look at you, instead choosing to really focus on the christmas themed welcome mat that your parents put out during the winter of '09 and never bothered to change. how he even agreed to come here with you, you don't know, but to say you're grateful would be an understatement.
"you still have time to back out, you know.", you mumble softly, trying to give him one more chance to escape, but he doesn't even spare you a glance, shaking his head and squinting at the door.
"let's just get this over with."
with a small sigh, your raise your hand to press your parents doorbell, the embarrassingly loud 'ding dong' ringing out from behind the door. "oh, that must be her!", you hear the muffled voice of your father speak from the inside, making a slight smile form on your lips.
within a couple seconds, you hear the sound of the muted metal bolt as your dad struggles to open the door to let you in. a grunt of "this damn door..." makes both you and jaehyun release short giggles, and you peek over at jaehyun to see his lips curl upwards into a smile, a small one but it's still breathtakingly pretty . he clears his throat and it's gone in a flash, but the image doesn't leave your mind, and you're still seeing it when your dad finally manages to open the door. "i really need to start using the new lock", he mutters, shifting his eyes to you with a big grin, leaving against the doorframe with his arms folded. "hello, sweetheart."
you chuckle and throw your arms around him, squeezing him a little as he laughs and pats your back in return. releasing you, he turns to jaehyun with a smile, who promptly sticks his hand out politely. "hello, mr. l/n, long time no see."
your dad ignores his hand, throwing his head back with a gruff laugh. "what's with all the formalities, come here, son.", and with that he gives jaehyun a hug as well, a slightly shorter one albeit, but a hug nonetheless. the word 'son' repeats in your mind like an echo, sounding more and more distorted the longer you focus on it. you can't even begin to think of what was going through jaehyun's mind. this was not your brightest idea.
you notice your mom waiting by the door with her hands behind her back, eyes bright and shiny. "hi, mom.", you beam, and she laughs cheerily, opening her arms for you to run into, which you do. she presses numerous kisses to the crown of your head, making you groan lightheartedly and try to escape her hold, but it only tightens. "oh, how i've missed you."
"i missed you too, mom.", you say but she's already let you go and is making a bee line for jaehyun with her arms open, who falls into the hug so readily and comfortably. "i may have missed you, y/n, but i missed jaehyun ten times more.", she jokes, pinching jaehyun's cheeks affectionately.
jaehyun is turning bright red, but he has a toothy grin on his face, a real one, you can tell. his eyes travel the front room where all of you are stood with a nostalgic smile, having not seen it or your parents in over six months. you watch as they look from the various photo frames hung up on the wall alongside the staircase, to the curtains that they recently changed, finally landing on the record player thay was sitting on the table. "wow, mr. l/n, where did you get this?", jaehyun asks, and you wonder whether he's trying to make conversation or if he's genuinely curious. you think it may be the second one.
while him and your dad engage in small talk about his record player, you turn to your mom to ask of the whereabouts of your little sister, and as if on cue, you hear an excited squeal from the top of the stairs. all four heads turn to see your sister bounding down the stairs hurriedly, paying no mind to your mom's strained shout of "careful!".
"y/n!", she piped, finally reaching the bottom of the stairs and running straight to you, wrapping her arms around your legs. she barely reaches your hip so her hug is really just her face pressed into your thigh with her arms squeezing your legs together, while you pat the top of her head.
somehow managing to pry her off of your legs, you kneel and give her a proper hug in return, now happy that you made the decision to come home for a bit of your holiday. she lets go and reaches into her pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper and jutting her hand out to you, urging you to take it.
you smile and furrow your eyebrows with confusion but you take the paper anyway, opening it as carefully as you could so as to not tear it anywhere. smoothing it out flat on your knee, you're greeted with a drawing; two people stand holding hands under a deep blue sky, a large yellow sun shining in one corner along with some "birds" that are really just little 'v's scribbled in black. they're stood on a beach, at least you think they are because there are two shades of blue on the paper, one of them probably being the blue hue of the ocean.
you assume the two people are you and your sister, since one of them has shorter, shoulder length hair and is miniscule compared to the other person, who's hair length and height are similar to yours.
you hold the picture to your chest and pull your sister in for another heartfelt hug, kissing her temple. "is this us?", you ask her, pointing at the two people in the drawing. she gives you a proud nod in return, taking the picture from your hands and holding it in front of her face. "yup! the big girl is you and the small girl is me! we're gonna go swimming.", she informs you, flashing you the toothiest of smiles. "thank you, it's perfect.", you tell her, ruffling her hair a little as she hands you the drawing back.
she clearly doesn't appreciate that, because she whines and swats your hands away, but soon her eyes focus on something behind you and they enlarge, the second excited squeal of the day emerging from her lips. "jae!", she just about screams, completely abandoning you in favour of running off to jaehyun, who has a wide smile on his face and looks equally as happy as her. he scoops her up in his arms and lifts her in front of his face, doing a little spin as peals of laughter escape her.
he finally puts her down but she holds on to his hand, looking at the male with absolute adoration. "hi, cutie.", he boops her nose affectionately to which she giggles, turning to look at you. "you didn't tell me jaehyun was coming!"
"i wasn't sure if he could make it", you reply to her honestly, looking at jaehyun as you speak because only the two of you know what you really mean by that. he holds your eye contact for perhaps a millisecond longer than he did before, but again, it was gone in a flash. he clears his throat a little and straightens up, rocking back on his heels.
sensing a shift in the air but mistaking it for some form of awkwardness, your mother shoos the rest of your family away in the direction of the kitchen. "they probably want to freshen up together, let's let them do that."
once they're gone, it feels like you can finally release your breath, truly seeing this situation going wrong in so many ways. they don't suspect anything yet, but how much longer until they eventually connect the dots? or what if they don't even need to do that, because jaehyun only agreed so he could embarrass you by telling them the whole story? you don't acknowledge the tense silence until jaehyun speaks up. "can i use the guest bathroom? still the second door on the right, yeah?"
you don't respond immediately because you're processing the fact that he still remembers these minute details. you also realise he's only asking because he doesn't want to share your bathroom with you, and that clears your thoughts up a little. you nod in affirmation and he begins climbing up the stairs, and you wait until you hear he's reached the upstairs landing before you move.
it's so tense. the last time you were in this house with jaehyun, you had taken a short road trip to get there. you say road trip, but it was just a couple hours long, but the playlist you and jaehyun had curated said otherwise. you arrived at the house and everyone was all smiles, your parents just happy to have you home and happy to see him as well. you think that part's just as hard as thinking about the two of you together. the fact that your slightly judgemental parents adored him, your little sister looked at him with stars in her eyes– you had lucked out in every department, and you were always aware of it, the joint guilt you felt from breaking it off and lying to your parents really getting to you now.
you swore that after this was over, you would apologise to jaehyun and finally break the truth to your parents.
finishing off in the bathroom, you step out into the hall, only to bump straight into jaehyun. backing up awkwardly, you both try to get past each but keep going in the same direction, resulting in a bunch of 'sorry–'s and 'wait– just–'s being blurted out by the two of you. finally getting past you, he doesn't look back at you again, just walking down the stairs mumbling something about "they're waiting...".
wincing, you make your way down the stairs as well, arriving at the living room to see your mom standing beside your dad with an excited expression on her face. you approach with caution, noting that your dad has his hands behind his back. "so...", your mother starts, raising her shoulders a little out of anticipation. "since we haven't seen the two of you in a while...we got you some presents! nothing too grand but..."
"mom, it's not even christmas", you whine, ready to argue with them because you feel bad that whatever they got was still overpriced, but your mother shakes her head, urging your dad to reveal the presents. "just take a look first..."
in one hand he holds a small, white box, no bigger than his palm, and your mom picks it up, holding it out to you. the print on the box is small and typewriter-like, the material it's made out of just screaming fancy. you narrow your eyes at your parents but take the box in your hand anyway, pushing it open. inside, it reveals maybe the prettiest necklace you've seen; dainty and silver, the chain is simple but it's the pendant that's the real charm– it's an uncut stone of some kind, a pale, translucent white crystal that's pretty much shapeless but it's wrapped in this thin silver wire that forms little loops and hearts over the stone and it makes it so alluring.
"it's a seaglass necklace", your mom speaks, taking the necklace out of its box for you and inclining her head for you to turn around. you're now facing jaehyun, who looks curiously at the new piece of jewellery with the faintest of smiles on his face. pushing your hair to the side, your mother places the necklace around your neck and clasps it (though it takes her a while, squinting and looking at the necklace hook from every angle because she forgot to wear her reading glasses). she leads you to the mirror by the entrance of the hall so you could get a better look at the necklace hanging on top of your collarbones, reaching up to touch it. "you remember? from that lady who owned the fancy place by the beach last summer?"
you do remember. that was the first trip jaehyun had joined you and your family for, under the suggestion of your little sister. when you brought up the fact that jaehyun was going back home to see his parents a little later than he had anticipated, your sister immediately asked if he would want to come with all of you, who were heading to the beach in a day or two for a little family getaway. and much to your surprise, your parents were very warm to the idea of jaehyun accompanying the lot of you. he must have severely impressed them the first time he met them, bringing a bouquet of flowers for your mother and a hearty bottle of whiskey for your dad– it's like he had won their hearts before he had even stepped inside the house.
of course, he had met them a couple more times again after that, but your parents had never raised any issues about your then boyfriend. your dad had claimed that he wanted jaehyun to come along so he could "keep an eye on him" and "see how he treats you in front of us", but you knew all too well he just wanted someone to talk to about his interest in sound systems. the trip had gone so smoothly, so perfectly and you think that it had planted the seeds of doubt in your mind about your relationship.
the position of the window and sun allowed for the light to bleed on to half of your face, the necklace glinting under the rays as you stood in front of the mirror and surveyed it. the last couple drops of the golden hour sun slipped through the windowpane and painted your skin like it was a canvass and the necklace was the cherry on top. you were radiant, and the look in jaehyun's eyes told you that he knew it too. when your eyes meet in the mirror, it's like he tears his eyes away from you, forcing himself to look at his shoes.
snapping out of your soon-to-be miserable thoughts, you fix a smile on to your face so as to not seem ungrateful, turning to hug your mother. "i love it", and you really do, knowing that you wouldn't be wearing a single other piece of jewellery for the next couple months.
jaehyun stands in the doorway soundlessly, just taking in the scene. he had always told you that he wished his family was as close and tight-knit as yours, but due to his dad always being away on some business trip or another and his mother having her own job to attend to, it resulted in a lot of time spent by himself.
you think that might be way he slotted right in with the rest of you, from the very first meet, because his desire to belong worked very well with your family's lively, chaotic home, which welcomed him right away. this was the main reason why couldn’t bring yourself to tell your family that you had broken up him mercilessly. they wouldn’t blame you of course, but you know everyone would be immensely disappointed when they realised that he hadn’t even done anything wrong in the first place; he was so good to you, and they just wanted to see you happy.
while your mom cooed at how pretty the necklace looked on you, your dad faces jaehyun with a wide grin on his face. "you didn't think we'd forget about you, did you?"
he probably wasn't expecting anything for himself, because you weren't either, so you and jaehyun simultaneously furrow your eyebrows. "oh, mr. l/n, you didn't have to–", he starts but your father is quick to cut him off, waving his hands. "what nonsense. of course we had to get you something, it's no big deal", he tries to appear nonchalant but the smile that creeps on to his face is a telltale sign that it is, in fact, a big deal. "besides, if you're family to y/n, you're family to us."
it's as if someone just stuck a large knife into you, the pang you just felt in your stomach. you can't even begin to think about what must be going through jaehyun's head, because even he can't hide the way his eyes soften at your dad's words. watching your sister spring up from the couch, she runs behind your father and plucks whatever he was holding out of his hands, now revealed to be a medium-sized bag. "i wanna give it to jaehyun!", with that, she's running over to him with the toothiest smile plastered on her cheeks, holding the bag out to jaehyun with stretched arms.
he ruffles her hair just like you did, but she makes absolutely zero complaints as he does it– if anything she's revelling in it. this makes you want to scoff, but you smile instead without thinking about it, taking a couple steps away from the mirror and towards them. "are you gonna open it or should i take it back to the store?", your dad jokes and jaehyun chuckles quietly while you don't even bother forcing a laugh, and he takes the bag from your sister's hands, mumbling a soft 'thank you'.
from where you're standing, you can't see what's inside the bag, but you can see jaehyun's eyes widen when he looks inside and back up at everyone. "me and mrs. l/n, i can't take this."
"of course you can", your mother tuts in response, dismissing him with her hand. "if i recall correctly, you had said something about your airpods not working properly?"
realisation dawns on your face when jaehyun pulls the shiny headphones from the bag, turning them over in his hand. "i think i did mention it, yeah...", he nods, eyes scanning over the clear box he holds. you remember that only one of his airpods would function properly, the other deciding whenever it wanted to do its job. you didn't realise your parents remembered, as well. "but these are so expensive, i can't–"
"do you like them or not?", your dad asks, shrugging his shoulders. jaehyun's quick to nod, "yes, i love them but–"
"then end of story." your father's not hearing anyone out, even going so far as to cover his ears jokingly when jaehyun opens his mouth again. after your sister tugs on his pant leg and urges him to try them out, jaehyun slips them over his ears, whipping his phone to connect them to it. he thought it was too expensive to try fixing his airpods so he resorted to listening with just the one ear in, or using your headphones till you broke up.
by the look on his face, they work just fine, and he couldn't be happier. a wide smile is pressed on his face, a real one that doesn't even drop when he makes eye contact with you. you smile back at him slowly, but he doesn't look away immediately, slowly turning to look at your parents. "i don't know what to say. thank you."
you'd had a couple boyfriends before, not none as close to your family as jaehyun had been. none of your previous relationships had lasted very long and you could never pinpoint the exact reason why, you just knew at some point that you had to break it off. your mother always thought that this was a result of your first ever relationship, the first and last man that ever dumped you. it crushed you at the time, though you were able to power through, but since then, relationships were never your strong suit. change seemed promising when you met jaehyun through a mutual friend, however. he was kind, he was smart and he was genuine, three traits that you didn't typically see in guys you dated, but you didn't see any reason to dwell on your biggest fumble yet.
the rest of time until dinner continues in a steadfast manner with all of you sitting in the living room. the scene looked like something out of a corny movie montage, but the beautiful part of it was that it was reality, all the laughs, the eye-smiles, the stupid jokes and conversations, all of it. your parents had recently returned from a holiday together that they took to celebrate their wedding anniversary, which meant that you two deserved to look through all eight hundred and sixty two of the photos they took. super proud of the new projector he had ordered off amazon, your dad had connected his phone to it and was going through his gallery slideshow-style, with your mom making offhand comments about every other photo.
"that's from when we went on a date to this fancy restaurant, that's from the shoe store your dad wanted to go to...oh! that's when your dad just learnt how to take 0.5x pictures on his new phone!"
your mom speaks animatedly while each photo is being shown, pointing out various different things without any prompting. there were badly taken selfies of your parents that made both you and jaehyun laugh, pictures of the different kinds of food they ate, the said 0.5's of your mother taken from the top of her forehead– your dad was slapping his knee even though your mom wasn't too impressed.
after what seemed like years, they ran out of vacation pictures and moved on to pictures and videos taken during your little sister's talent show. this was especially endearing, because your normally high-energy sister was suddenly all shy and avoidant of eye contact in the presence of jaehyun, particularly displeased with a video of her singing on stage.
jaehyun wipes the pout right off her face however, poking her cheek with a smile. "you sound amazing, s/n", he pipes genuinely, and she's back to smiling again, even offering to sing the song for everyone towards the end. no one has the heart to turn down so innocent a request, so for the next couple minutes you are subjected to a very slightly off-key rendition of some song from the movie 'frozen'. everyone cheers when she is done, jaehyun even throwing in a little "whoo!" for good measure, and your sister performs a small curtsey before seating herself between you and jaehyun's legs.
you're situated on the same couch, but only so that things don't look weird. you invited him here to pose as your boyfriend, and he agreed, so you have to play the part too. that part wasn't as hard as you expected, the acting like a couple, no, it was the avoiding questions that was really getting to you. at some point in the conversation, your dad had congenially asked jaehyun when the next time he'd be coming home was. normally, he would congenially reply with something like "as soon as possible", but this time, he just froze. he appeared to attempt a reply, but was cut short at "uh–", the rest of the sentence never following through.
hoping to repair the awkward moment, you start to construct a fib. "jaehyun's been uh– you know, working at one of those um, nursing homes–", this is too out-of-the-box a reply even for jaehyun who turns to you, trying and failing to the hide incredulous look on his face.
"a nursing home? oh, i didn't know you were training to be a nurse!", your mother is surprised but definitely not disappointed, placing her hand on her chest with a sympathetic look on her face as she looks at jaehyun. he looks as if he's trying to speak to you using only his eyes, widening and squinting them at a rapid pace, tilting his head towards you so your parents don't see his expression. there are clear signs of confusion and you're aware he's questioning your decisions, but that's as far as you get with his eye signals and you let him know by shrugging and wincing, so he closes them while sighing inwardly and turns to face your parents, a fake smile stuck on his lips.
"yes! haha, funny story, this one...", he grits his teeth but furthers your stupid concoction of a story, snapping his fingers while trying to think. "i'm not really training to be a nurse, i just volunteer there sometimes. love being around old people, you know, makes me feel full of life–"
you cut him off before he can make this even worse for the both of you, taking in your mother's furrowed eyebrows and your dad's slightly opened mouth. "yes, well, it's hard for him to catch a break, you know, with all the...", you slap your hand over his knee and give it a little squeeze, turning to him with a grin while he smiles tightly back at you, eyes focusing on the hand on his thigh without changing his expression. "...hard work he does."
jaehyun's eyes don't leave your hand, seeing as this is the first act of skinship in six months, albeit casual. your hand feels so hot that you think you might be burning a hole through the material of jaehyun's jeans, finally ripping your hand off of him.
"of course...", your father trails off in confusion, and no one can seem to make head or tails of the situation. in a moment, your mother pauses before clapping her hands, seemingly already forgotten about the strange situation as she chimes "dinner in five!~". your sister scampers off with claims of helping your mother out in the kitchen (and probably to try and secure a spot close to you and jaehyun), and jaehyun stands up and heads to the cupboard containing all your placemats without out even being asked. you offer to help but he shakes his head, and you opt to go sit back down on one of the arm chairs facing the kitchen area, just observing.
this was one of jaehyun's qualities that made you fall in love with him, but also pissed you off to no end. first of all, didn't he ever get tired of just being so good all the time? second of all, why couldn't his own parents see what everyone else saw in him? and thirdly, why did you choose to ruin your life six months ago? as for the last one, you knew why, but the extent of your stupidity was real apparent to you now.
you look away when he meets your eyes and catches you, your heart beating fast when you see out of the corner of your eye that his gaze lingers for a moment or two. underneath all that hatred, was there still a small part of him that cared about you? after you broke up with him, over call that too, he attempted to call you back two or three times, but you couldn't bring yourself to pick up. out of fear or maybe even shame, you never answered his calls and since then, you'd had no contact.
it was impossible. with a break-up like that and six month's worth of time to sit and think about it, you imagine that one could hold a surprising amount of hatred for someone–especially after a relationship as real as yours. if you switched the roles, you think you wouldn't feel much different.
at your mom's signal, you heave yourself off the couch and to the dining table, seating yourself next to jaehyun (everyone expected you to sit with him, they left the chair empty on purpose). your sister has already claimed the spot opposite jaehyun and was patiently awaiting the vegetables that she knew your mother was going to pile on her plate, a little pout forming on her lips at the sight of broccoli. "you can't make that face every time, like i'm feeding you dog food", your mother scolds her with a smile, giving her a generous helping of veggies. the pout deepens and she folds her arms with a cross look on her face. "you guys don't have to eat the broccoli. why do i?"
she's got a point, you think, but before you can tell her to just eat them, jaehyun speaks. "that's exactly what my little cousin sungchan said...", jaehyun tells her, looking around the table with a dramatic sigh. "and we all know what happened to him..."
little cousin sungchan? as far as you know, there is no little cousin sungchan, and you know a lot about jaehyun's family, so you put your fork down in favour of listening to his story at the same time your sister curiously asks, "what happened?".
"well, like you, sungchan didn't like eating his veggies", starting off the story with a shrug under your mother's listening ears, he talks in a low voice. "he'd always argue with my aunt till one day, he refused to eat them.
your sister is knocking food around her plate while she listened to jaehyun, and she's not impressed with the story so far. "see! why can't i do that?", she asks indignantly, and your mother shoots jaehyun a look to which he winced and continues. "nothing happened for a while, so sungchan thought he had proved his point. but he hadn't heard of the veggie monster."
the story is heading in such a stupid direction that you almost laugh out loud, but you catch yourself when you notice your sister's expression, guarded and wary. "...the veggie monster? ...that's not real...", she speaks like she's not fully sure of her words herself, pausing her attack on her food.
"sungchan thought that too", jaehyun agrees, lowering his voice like one would when telling a scary story, looking around him like it could be listening before continuing, for the story's sake. "but he didn't know that without veggies, a child's body is weak. their bones don't grow strong, they stay small and their minds aren't sharp at all. that's how the veggie monster chooses his targets."
you hold back a snort at your sister's wide-eyed expression and how serious jaehyun looks, he's even got your dad attempting to look nonchalant as he followed the story. "the less veggies a kid eats, the weaker they get, and that's easy pickings for the veggie monster. he comes late at night, and there's no point in hiding because he knows. he can smell when a kid doesn't have enough vitamins and it makes him hungry."
with your sister, your parents and even you hanging on to every word, jaehyun lowers his voice to almost a whisper, and all of you lean in closer to listen. "legend has it that he looks so scary that you lose the ability to move or speak, so he just takes you. sungchan was never seen again. the police said he was missing but i knew what happened to him."
you have to admit, jaehyun can tell a story. the atmosphere felt more eerie as he concluded the story cryptically, but your sister looks positively gutted. "did he take him?", she questions, face white and voice small. he nods slowly, like he didn't want to be talking about this, and all you can think about is how this man deserved an award after the show he put on. "i had my suspicions. no one believed me, but i'm ninety-nine percent sure that at dinner, i saw a pair of dark, red eyes staring straight into the kitchen from the window."
as if nature was a paid fucking actor, a slight crash sounds from outside the window on cue, like if a cat knocked over a plastic bin, but you're pretty sure your sister shit her pants. you've never seen her shovel vegetables into her mouth at that kind of record speed before, even your parents are looking at her astounded. with her food in her mouth, she pleads with glazed eyes, "please– i'm sorry, i'll have my veggies, don't let him take me!"
it takes all of you a little while to convince your sister that she'd be completely fine if she ate all the veggies given to her and that the veggie monster wouldn't even think of her, but it's safe to say that she'd never leave a bit of stray carrot on her plate ever again. your mom comically mouths 'thank you' to jaehyun which makes you laugh, and you turn to smile at him, and he gives you a nod in return. small steps, you think, because a nod is a whole lot better than a glare.
the rest of the dinner continues as if nothing changed. sure, you and jaehyun knew things were different, but it didn't fully feel like it at the moment. your mom had prepared a lot of nice food for the occasion, and your dad even helped, particularly proud of the way his stir fry turned out. jaehyun made sure to compliment both your parents on their cooking, and they all but melted– he still knew exactly how to talk to them. conversation was easy; you talked about work, you talked about how university was going, you talked about the school play your sister was going to take part in, about jaehyun's parents, nothing was forced.
you'd fall into comfortable silences at times in favour of sitting back and observing, listening, just being a part of the moment. for someone who was so reluctant to be here, jaehyun seems comfortable, the familiarity of the situation helping ease the tension between the two of you. expecting some bumps along the way, you were rather pleased with how things were turning out, but you were also anticipating the end of the lovely evening– where you and jaehyun would eventually go your separate ways. you don't want to think about it just yet, not when everything was going so smoothly, and your opportunity to snap out of your thoughts is presented to you, just not in the way you would have liked.
your mother's question seems to have thrown jaehyun for a loop as well, because his eyebrows are furrowed and he looks blatantly confused. at some point during a lull in the conversation, your mother had politely asked jaehyun how his christmas in japan had gone; the only problem with this question was that he never had a christmas in japan, not to his knowledge anyway. this, was yet another lie you had told your parents, when they had asked why jaehyun hadn't accompanied you home to celebrate christmas, like he had originally planned to. unbeknownst to them, you had already broken up with him prior to the christmas holidays, so jaehyun wasn't exactly going to come along anyway. so, you told them that he had to spend christmas with an aunt in japan, for familial reasons.
you didn't exactly have time to prep jaehyun and give him a run down of every single lie he had to play along with, so he turns to you with a look of uncertainty and desperation in his eyes. "my, uh- christmas? in japan?", he puts emphasis on the two keywords, not blinking when he speaks directly to you in hopes that you would take the hint and help him out.
"yeah, your christmas. in japan. with your aunt", you reply to him with the same tone and expression as he does, trying your best to sound subtle so your parents don't catch on.
"yes, with your aunt! we were so sad to hear that you couldn't make it for christmas", your mother is unknowingly helping jaehyun catch up with the fake story, and he releases a short "ahh" during his moment of 'recollection'. "right, my real aunt who definitely lives in japan."
he grits his teeth when he talks, making you grimace and the fact that your parents look completely puzzled doesn't help. you need to save your dignity anyway, so you try to cut jaehyun off before he can make things worse. "haha, jaehyun of course she's your real aunt, silly", you awkwardly chuckle, feigning nonchalance when you bump his shoulder with your fist, wishing you could telepathically communicate with him right now, but you'd probably only be saying "please, please, please" on repeat.
he sighs but speaks up again, much to your relief. "it was slightly boring, my aunt doesn't do much", he laughs softly, fully back in character. "but you know, it's still nice to spend time with your family."
if your parents are suspicious, they don't say anything, seemingly satisfied with jaehyun's answer. dinner continues with few hitches until jaehyun insists that he washes the dishes. "it's the least i can do, after you both made such delicious food."
your mother at least tries to argue with him for a bit, but your dad is quite happy to not have to wash dishes, patting jaehyun on the back before standing up. what surprises you however, is jaehyun turning to you with the sweetest, most fake smile you've seen in a minute plastered on his face. "you mind helping, y/n?"
smiling tightly, you nod and begin clearing the table. this is done in silence, neither of you even looking at each other as you pick up dishes and carry them to the kitchen. your sister has run off to the living room to watch some t.v with your dad, and it feels like you're finally allowed to breathe when your mother exits the room as you’re picking up the last dirty dish. walking into the kitchen, jaehyun's back is facing you while he washes dishes, the environment and the little tune he's humming making everything seem so domestic in your eyes. this is how dinner used to always go when he came over, with you and him washing the dishes together in the end, taking breaks to splash each other with the soapy water or making out secretly by the counter.
but the air is foreign now, none of the former warmth or softness remaining. he turns to you with a frown when you place the final dish on the side of the sink, and he really doesn't look too happy. "visiting an aunt in japan? really?", he scoffs, looking incredulous while you look sheepish, avoiding his eye contact entirely.
you were expecting something like this but you hated being put on the spot. "i don't know, okay, what else was i supposed to say?", the exasperation in your voice is evident but it only fuels jaehyun, and rightfully so.
"i got an idea, how about 'oh, he can't come because i dumped his ass over call for no reason, sorry'?", he digs snidely, voice laden with scorn. there it is. "or is that too close to the truth for you?"
he doesn’t even let you open your mouth, chucking the cloth he was using to dry the dishes on the counter somewhere, folding his arms while he looks at you in a hostile way. “you wanna know how i really spent my christmas, y/n?”, he sneers sardonically, a sarcastic smile etched on to his lips. “alone in my house. miserable. i wish i had an aunt in fucking japan that i could’ve spent it with.”
you hate to admit it, but his words sting and you are well aware that you deserve it. just asking him to join you for this dinner was a huge reach, a request you really didn't expect him to accept. you don't fully understand why he did, though. he clearly despised you, so many be it was out of love for your family? you know jaehyun cared for them, but doing all this was uncharacteristic even for him. when you don't say anything but wear an agonised expression on your face, jaehyun further questions you.
"do you not have anything to say for yourself?", he tries again, his voice a little softer and more hopeful than before but you look like you're fighting some internal battle that doesn't involve him. he exhales deeply, clearly disappointed in your lack of an explanation and just walks past you and out of the kitchen.
you remain in the kitchen for a couple beats more, trying your level best to collect yourself. you can feel tears pricking the corners of your eyes and your breathing is quicker, but this is the absolute worst time to have a little panic attack in the kitchen. how you wished the two of you could just forget about everything for a minute so you could wrap your arms around his figure and fall into his embrace, feeling like that would solve all your problems. it's selfish and wrong, but you know that you're not getting over jaehyun anytime soon.
you'd come to that conclusion a couple months back. the first month after you broke things off with him was possibly the worst time of your life, struggling to eat, sleep or even get out of bed. your friends urged you to reach out to him like they knew you wanted to, but you remained stubborn, convinced at the time that you had made the right decision that would hurt the least for the both of you. you were wrong, you could see that now, but you knew it was much too late. you'd already gone through all the stages of grief, but seeing jaehyun again in this environment had really gone and thrown a spanner in the works for you, all because of your terrible decision-making skills.
any hopes you had of the two of you at least being on semi-friendly terms had just flown out the window as well, and you suddenly think that this might've been the reason why jaehyun even agreed to come. an explanation. a well-deserved one at that. you don't know why you find it so hard to give him one, but you suspect it's because you're not ready to face all that yourself.
upon hearing your mother faintly call out your name, you realise how long you've been standing in the kitchen, taking a couple more deep breaths before you join the rest of them. it's clear that everyone's winding down, your sister curled up on your dad's lap, trying to blink away her sleepiness, while everyone else mutedly watched the television. "didn't mean to keep you all up past your bedtime", you try to joke lightheartedly because your parents look like they're about to hit the hay themselves, but it's really so that no one suspects you were having a little breakdown in the kitchen; especially jaehyun.
"you're not wrong", your dad agrees gruffly, stretching a little before tapping on your sister's cheek to wake her, much to her displeasure. "it's technically your mama's turn to put you to bed, isn't it?", he attempts, but is quickly shot down by your mother, pinching his arm after claiming it was certainly not her turn. after their grand performance, both of them comically turn to look at you with a suspiciously bright look in their eyes. you don't even have time to argue, because the second the hint of a sigh leaves your mouth, they're saying "thank you" and "how nice of you to offer", urging your sister to wake up to let her know that you'll be tucking her in tonight.
she perks up a little at this, nodding with a little glint in her eyes. hopping off your dad's lap, she sleepily totters over to you. "can jae come too?", her voice is hopeful and small, and she yawns in the middle of her sentence but she just has this certain charm that makes everyone unable to say 'no' to her. this includes jaehyun, because one look from her with her arms raised and he's picking her up, pretending to complain about it. you can't help but smile at the whole interaction.
"oh quick! before i forget...", your mom gasps in remembrance, picking her phone up from the coffee table with a tired smile. "don't know when i'll get to see the two of you again so, pictures!"
this may be the only part you were slightly prepared for. your mother had a special affinity for taking photos; not that she was any good at it, she just enjoyed capturing these little moments and treating her gallery like a scrapbook. she had more or less documented the entirety of you and jaehyun's relationship, from the first few months where all the photos were cheesy smiles and awkward poses, to when you had grown more comfortable around each other. in fact, a photo she had taken of jaehyun was your wallpaper for quite some time (it took a lot of effort and explaining to help your mom airdrop you the picture)– it was a shot of jaehyun and your sister grinning from ear to ear, both adorning aprons that were covered in flour after a failed attempt at baking cookies.
the point being, you're pretty sure jaehyun was also expecting the pictures, so it didn't really surprise you when he plastered a smile on his face and came to stand beside you. his hand finds the small of your back soon enough and it makes your body stiffen while simultaneously sending a jolt through it, and jaehyun feels it. mistaking the action for uneasiness, he immediately lifts his warm hand off you so that it's now hovering awkwardly over your body, though no one can see that from the front. while you are disappointed, you lean into him anyway, clasping your hands together behind your back as you both give the camera wide smiles. you're so close you can smell his cologne and it's making you dizzy, not because the scent is overpowering but because it's just so familiar and you can't get enough of it.
the moment is gone in a flash because your mother takes three to four photos while cooing at the two of you before she decides to call it a night, and then jaehyun is ripping himself from you. you don't think anyone else recognises it, the way he seems to want to be as far from you as possible because he's so good at masking these things, but you can feel it. you can feel this heat radiating off of his body whenever he's near you and it's not the warm, fuzzy kind of heat. the spot on your back where his hand rested still burns a little.
your parents are exhausted and look more than happy to be able to jump straight into bed, but not before thanking you and jaehyun. you hug and kiss them goodnight, promising that your next visit will be sooner than this one before they exchange pleasantries with jaehyun, making him promise the same. you know this has to be hard on him, making a mental note to apologise profusely before you part ways. with a reminder that the door now locks from the inside, they bid you goodnight and goodbye, trudging off to their room while your sister scampers up the stairs to hers, suddenly full of life.
you understand why your parents were more than happy to hand over bedtime duties to you and your "boyfriend", because putting your little sister to bed turned out to be a piece of work. she started off by blatantly refusing to brush her teeth, but jaehyun had that one sorted when he reminded her that the veggie monster had a lot of friends, so that was done. she changed into her pyjamas all on her own which was a relief, but you were at a loss over how to actually get her into bed.
you both humoured her for a bit, understanding that she was just happy to have her big sister and her big sister's nice boyfriend home again, so a little excitement was expected. jaehyun played along with her, which was a sight to see, following along with the characters she assigned him in her imaginary games. but when bouncing on her bed turned into running around the room like a crazed bunny, it was a little harder to convince her that she needed to sleep now. "look at me, i'm wide awake", she insists, widening her eyes with her fingers to show you both just how awake she was. jaehyun tried a couple times to catch her, but you're both taken by surprise at her remarkable speed and agility. in the end, you had to resort to just sitting down and hoping that she'll tire herself out, which eventually does happen.
she climbs into bed of her own accord, rubbing at her eyes while you pull the duvet over her body, up to her shoulders. "when are you coming next?", she mumbles curiously while you sit on the edge of her bed, jaehyun standing close by. "soon", you reply honestly, knowing that you'll always have a safe place to come to whenever you need. "maybe i'll even stay for a whole weekend next time."
she likes the sound of this, smiling tiredly with her hands peeking over the edge of her cover, holding it closer to her. "will you come too?", this question is directed towards jaehyun, who looks defeated when he opens his mouth to answer. it's not fair, expecting him to lie to your family like this, but you know you've gotta come clean soon. you'd made up your mind at this point and come up with a plan; you'd explain yourself to jaehyun and apologise after which you'll go your separate ways, then you'll tell your family the truth after tonight, or at least make up a more recent break up, and that's that.
when jaehyun looks to you for help, you play with your hands a little, not fully knowing what to say. "if the old ladies at the nursing home let him go, maybe...", is what you decide is the safest option to go with, and your sister seems satisfied enough, giggling drowsily. you know she's close to falling asleep, and you're about to inwardly celebrate a job well done when she pops her next, unexpected question. "will you both be together forever?"
oh. there's a hint of teasing behind her voice, but everything else about the question is innocent and genuine, blinking her eyes open so she can look at the both of you when you answer. though you're not touching him, you can feel jaehyun stiffen next to you, his voice sounding more than a little awkward when he lets out an involuntary "uhh".
"what do you mean, cutie?"
you don't know why he asks that, because it's a pretty straightforward question; will the two of you be together forever? you want to laugh at the irony because you know that if she had asked the same question last time jaehyun came home, you both would have exchanged knowing smiles, giggling shyly while you tried to answer. the answer would've been 'yes', and you know deep down that it still should be.
she clicks her tongue like it's the most obvious and easy question in the world, shrugging her shoulders when she speaks. "you know, that's what people do when they're in love,", she answers with no hesitation, and you want to roll your eyes because who kidnapped your little sister and replaced her with dhar mann? "just like mommy and daddy!"
"daddy and mommy are married, sweetie, it's a little different–"
"i know that", she cuts off your little improvised answer in a deadpan voice that almost makes you feel stupid, but all her questions have your heart thudding against your rib cage, and you're praying to god that jaehyun can't hear it too. "but still, they love each other, and that's why they're together forever. don't you love each other?"
you're pretty sure the world stopped spinning and your heart stopped beating simultaneously, most definitely not expecting these kinds of questions from your sister. how do you even prepare an answer for this kind of situation? you know for a fact that your cheeks are coated in a dark sheen of red, and out of the corner of your eye (because you refuse to look at him), you’re pretty sure you can see the distinct pink colour paint the tips of jaehyun's ears, like they always do when he's shy or embarrassed. you can't not give her an answer, because that looks weird and she's clearly waiting for one, but answering meant that you either tell her the truth, that no, you will not be together forever because your dumbass went and ruined everything for the both of you six months ago, or you can lie and say that she's right, which would be admitting a lot of things that you didn't want to admit–
"nothing's for sure, but you're right, if two people really do love each other...", jaehyun's deep voice brings all your spiralling thoughts to a halt, and you look at him for the first time in a bit, only to find that he's already looking at you, gaze raw and piercing. you hold your breath when he speaks, because you don't trust yourself at the moment. "...they'll end up together forever."
you hear your sister make some kind of a reply, but the heartbeat in your ears is so loud that you don't quite catch it, the eye contact you're holding with jaehyun so intense that it feels wrong to look away. what could he have possibly meant by that? or was it just some half-assed answer to get your sister to go to sleep? you realise that staring at him while trying to use your sixth sense to nonverbally convey these questions to him isn't going to work, but you can feel the lump forming in your throat, needing to get out of this situation quickly.
it takes everything in you to break the eye contact in favour of pressing a quick peck to your sister's temple, and she looks about ten seconds away from just crashing. "night y/n, night jae...", and with that she's out like a light, and you two wait wordlessly until her breathing evens out before silently exiting the room.
once her bedroom door is shut, you make a beeline for the front door, way too scared and vulnerable right now to look at jaehyun. he doesn't say anything, so neither do you, making sure the door is actually locked before taking your phone out of your pocket. the time on your phone screen reads '11:43', and you know it's too late to try and catch the metro or a bus, but you're too stubborn and embarrassed to ask jaehyun to drop you.
the air is cold outside, much colder than it was inside your warm house. at the current moment, there is no breeze either, the trees are still and there are only a few lights on around the street, and it just makes everything seem so still and loud. you look out at the road, eyes zeroing in on this one lamp post where you shared one of your first few kisses with the man standing beside you. it's crazy how time can change things, you think, because never would you have believed in the moment that jaehyun called you "the most beautiful girl in the world" before leaning in to sweetly connect your lips that he could ever be something so close to a stranger within months.
ultimately opting to look at him, you're once again unable to read the expression on his face as you try your best to speak your mind to him. "um, i'm gonna book a cab, so you're officially free to go. thanks again for tonight, you really didn't have to come with me, so i owe you one. or i don't have to owe you one, because we're not going to see each other again- anything's good with me, just uh...thanks."
he waits patiently for you to finish, and aside from the slightest hint of amusement in his eyes, you're at a loss over what he's really thinking, but his face is so stupidly handsome that you're feeling angry and a little awkward, choosing to look around, and at the floor, playing with your fingers as you spoke.
"you're so dramatic y/n, i can drop you home, it's no big deal", he's already walking towards the road and biting his lip, and you can't tell whether it's out of habit or if he's trying to hide a smile, yet something tells you that it might be the latter.
"so you just let me say all that even though you were gonna offer to drop me? dude..."
the initial ten minutes of the drive are uncommunicative, both of you choosing to look at the dark road instead of acknowledging the awkward silence that was swallowing the car up whole. you don’t talk about your argument in the kitchen, you don’t make small talk about dinner, you don’t talk. you'd normally play some music in the background and you know that your phone is definitely still connected to his car's bluetooth, but somehow it just doesn't feel right– punishing yourself by sitting in this impenetrable silence should do you better.
the roads are more or less empty, save for the lone car or bike that speeds past you. jaehyun knows the way to your house from your parent's because of the amount of times you've driven back and forth, so you don't feel the need to tell him to turn right or to keep going down a certain road, making for even more silence.
part of you is still a little thankful that it isn't the most short drive, even though you aren't even speaking to each other. all it takes is picturing your empty house, devoid of the homely domestic feeling it used to carry when jaehyun was a frequent visitor. what would you even do when you got home? wallow in self-pity over your life choices? play 'sweet' by cigarettes after sex because it reminds you of him, then put on his hoodie that doesn't even smell like him anymore, just so you can curl up in bed and have a good cry while you reminisce? you're starting to think that maybe attempting to talk to him isn't the worst idea, at least it'll give you something to cry about later.
you're going crazy wracking your brain, trying to think of something to say that wouldn't make the atmosphere even more uneasy, but all you got was "hey, thanks again for coming" and "hey, sorry for breaking up with you, what's good though?". you can't even help the wince creeping on your face, finally choosing to go with the former before you have a heart attack and die in jaehyun's front seat.
"thanks again for agreeing to come", you start, absolutely hating the break in your voice from not talking for some time. "you really didn't have to do that. and for dropping me."
he offers you a quick nod in your general direction and fixes his eyes on the road ahead like he was zipping through a crowded highway, though you're sure there isn't a car in sight. "like i said, it's cool", is all you get in return, and you have to remind yourself that he has every right to be short with you.
but still, you try again. "and you don't have to worry about my parents", chewing on your bottom lip, you actually look at him this time, hoping it'll prompt him to do the same, but it doesn't. "i'm gonna tell them the truth."
he releases a short breath from his nose like he finds your statement funny, but continues to not really say anything, just nodding to indicate that he heard you. you subconsciously clench and unclench your jaw at that, because god, he's so fucking annoying, but you swear you don't mean to release the slightly irritated sigh that you do. if you hadn't seen his knuckles turning white from how hard he's gripping the steering wheel, you might not have known that your little sigh pissed him off, because you can't tell it from his face, save from the barely-there eyebrow twitch.
you don't know what it is about car rides with only one other person that make you feel so vulnerable, but you think paired with this kind of silence, you could potentially confess to murder in this setting. it's infuriating, how unresponsive he is, and part of you thinks you're jealous of the control he's exerting, because you're dead sure that if you were in his position, you'd have a fair amount to say. it must be satisfying for him in a way, watching you squirm like this out of guilt and discomfort, but you know in your heart that jaehyun simply isn't like that.
"look, jaehyun", your mouth is working faster than your brain, the silence proving to be too much for you to handle. "i know i fucked things up a bit. with how i ended it and everything..."
perhaps you should've taken a little more time to properly articulate your thoughts, because even jaehyun can't control the astounded scoff that slips out of his mouth. you yourself can't believe that you chose to deliver your words like that and it makes you sound so self-righteous, but they're out, and now you're bracing yourself to finally hear what jaehyun really has to say.
"fucked things up a bit? are you serious?", you can hear it in his voice that he's holding back, but he chooses to laugh in disbelief instead, which you think is actually worse than him straight up screaming at you. "y/n, you didn't even bother telling me in person. you dumped me over the fucking phone, saying it wasn't working."
you now kind of wish that you had just kept quiet and sat in his awkward car, and exchanged awkward niceties when you reach home, never to see him again. but this is your final chance at some form of redemption, and now that jaehyun was actually speaking his mind instead of giving you tight nods, you tried to explain yourself.
"jaehyun, i know, i just–"
"i called you a bunch of times. i tried to come see you and everything, but you went and changed your lock and all your friends were saying you didn't want to see me?"
there goes trying to explain yourself. so you sat and listened instead, and it was the least you could do. jaehyun's voice became more and more strained as he talked, the emotions he was feeling now a lot more evident. he was angry, but more importantly, he was confused, and sad.
"i just- i didn't know what went wrong, you know? we were completely fine as far as i knew", he continues on in a laboured way and he's not looking for you speak right now, so you don't. "fuck i- i thought we were in love."
the little laugh he lets out in between his words more or less breaks your heart, the whole scenario sounding all too familiar. those exact words were the last thing you'd heard from jaehyun before you fully and cruelly broke things off, letting him know the decision was final before cutting the call. you remember that day so clearly. you had meant to go see him and explain all this in person, that’s the whole reason you were in the car, but for some reason, you just couldn’t do it. you remember how much your hands were shaking as you waited for him to pick up the call, sitting in the car by yourself in the middle of your driveway. how long you sat and cried after you ended the call, tears falling until there weren't any left. how it began raining the very second you stepped out of your car to go back inside.
the weather was a funny thing, choosing to mirror your mood only when it saw fit. it was warm and sunny on the day you broke up with him, gentle breeze and wispy clouds all around. it was warm and sunny this morning, the weather ever so pleasant as you plucked up the courage to walk to his door. it was still unusually warm and sunny for the couple months following your break up, feeling sour as ever that the weather was so lovely and all you could do was sit in your room and feel sorry.
you took note of all these occasions because it always used to piss you off. though you shiver now in the car, you think it's kind of satisfying in a way, because the only two times your mood and the weather lined up was right after the break up, and the second you stepped outside your house with jaehyun; it feels like a premonition, or a revelation of sorts. the grey of the stormy sky matched the absolute devastation you felt after breaking up with him, rain pouring from the heavy clouds like they were crying for you. now, the cold, still air feels like baited breath, awaiting your next move.
"and nothing, i hear nothing from you for six fucking months until you're suddenly on my doorstep, asking me to pretend to be your boyfriend for a night. that's fucking insane!", he sounds a little wild now, very exasperated, but you figure it's probably better to just let him get it all out of his system, and you'd do good to listen to him as well. everything he's saying makes complete sense, all the emotions he dealt with akin to what you would've gone through had it been you in his place. "and you know what's more insane? i agreed. after all that, i agreed."
that’s the part you don’t understand. your heart is racing listening to him and you have so many thoughts swimming around in your head, it's difficult to filter them. you feel similar to how you felt back in the kitchen, although this time you can't take a minute by yourself to get over it. you absolutely refuse to cry in this moment, not wanting to seem like you're trying to victimise yourself when you are aware you're the problem. but you can feel your heart breaking all over again.
"why did you agree?", you physically can't raise your voice to louder than a whisper, the tension too thick to try and overpower it.
"why did you dump me?", he counters like a child, and while you were expecting the question, it still makes you freeze up a little. he huffs in annoyance when you don't say anything, inclining his head while he waits expectantly for you to answer. "you wanted to talk? let's talk, y/n. you don't get to just waltz back into my life like it's nothing. it's not fair,"  it's so cold, the way he says your name, but you try your best not to let it further shake you, mustering up the courage to finally speak. "it's so stupid, jaehyun."
he looks like he's about two seconds away from just combusting, the only sound piercing the cold air being the gentle hum of the engine. "don't you think i deserve to know?", he urges, voice edged with hurt and frustration. "i spent the whole day with you and your family, pretending like everything was happy and normal when it's not."
"i know, jaehyun-"
"then, tell me."
you shift uncomfortably in your seat, teeth toying with your bottom lip as you avoid looking at him. "i don't know," you murmur, your voice barely audible to yourself over the pounding of your heart.
"you don't know?", he repeats incredulously, his tone tinged with disbelief. "after everything, you don't know? don't lie to me, y/n."
your throat tightens as guilt washes over you, but you try to stand your ground. "i just... i couldn't do it anymore," you confess, voice trembling with emotion.
"couldn't do what?", he presses, his frustration mounting with each passing moment. you know he doesn't believe you, dead set on getting the answers he deserves. he's driving slowly now, allowing him to turn his head in your direction more often.
"this!", you exclaim but immediately recoil when you see the look of hurt flash in his eyes. "no! not this, i mean- me! it's my fault, you did nothing wrong." you're saying all the wrong things, but you're too overcome with emotion to attempt to form a coherent sentence. still, you know it's time that the truth came out, so you continue to explain with a heavy heart.
"i didn't mean to hurt you," you choke out, and your voice is so thick you have to swallow before you carry on. he looks indignant and rightfully so, but you go on before he can interrupt you again. "but i was so scared, jaehyun."
his expression softens at your state, replaced with a mixture of sadness and resignation. "scared of what?", he asks quietly, his words hanging heavy in the air. you feel the need to pause for a moment, hands balled into tight fists as you try to regulate your breathing. you really didn't take into account how debilitating the night would be on yourself. sure, you knew it was going to be tough seeing jaehyun again, especially if he agreed to pretend to be together, but you weren't really expecting to hash it out like this, the weight of your decision pressing down on your like a leaden blanket.
the car moves so slow it may as well be still but  when you turn to him, you can feel the burn of jaehyun's gaze, his eyes searching for some semblance of understanding. "i loved you", he whispers, voice cracking with the intensity of his words. "i would've done anything for you."
you're still, you're so so still. tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you struggle to find the right words to say, but he's completely thrown you off. the car has slowed to a stop, engine idling before he eventually turns it off in favour of turning to you.
"that's exactly why," you reply weakly, your voice a fraction of the volume it normally is. he surveys you intently, his expression a mix of confusion and hurt, eyes reflecting the very same sadness you feel.
"what do you mean?"
"i was scared of hurting you," your confession does nothing to ease his confusion, but you can see he looks more shocked than anything now. "scared of hurting me?," he echoes, his uncertainty and disbelief palpable. "this is so ironic, it's almost funny..."
you think hearing any more of what he has to say is actually going to kill you internally, so you know you have to rush to explain before he starts giving you a piece of his mind again. "i know, it's so fucking stupid, jaehyun", your voice is trembling from the sheer guilt you feel, bottom lip quivering so much you have to bite it to get it to stop. "everything was going so perfectly, you were so perfect, and it scared me so much."
he falls silent, much to your relief, his expression even softening minutely as he processes your words and this gives you the encouragement to continue. "remember that night on the beach? on the trip last year?", you speak tentatively, wanting him to understand your thought process and the tangled mess of emotions swirling inside you at the time, though it's not much of a defense. the memory floods into your mind so vividly, and you can see it all; the salt in the air, the gentle breeze, the feeling of the sand, your intertwined hands swinging. it was so serene and you'd give anything to be there in that moment again, though it's nothing but a distant dream now.
he nods slowly without speaking, and you release a wet sort of laugh, feeling like you'd choke on the lump in your throat. "we talked about everything that night, our families, our childhoods, our futures...and then you brought up what would happen after we graduated college."
you know he remembers because his eyes light up with recognition and he looks like he's replaying that exact moment in his head, and you hope he remembers it with the same soft, gushy feeling you do. "you said you wanted to move in together, and don't get me wrong, i was thrilled, but it made me realise how...serious everything was, you know?", your voice catches in your throat and you're talking to yourself as much as you're talking to him and he seems to understand that, because he makes no attempt to stop you.
it's silent again for a bit as you two reminisce, but you break it again. "i just knew i was going to fuck up, jaehyun. maybe not right away, but eventually, and the thought terrified me," you sniffle a little, not being able to bring yourself to look up from your hands to meet his gaze. "that feeling never really went away, and it was eating me up from the inside. it got so bad that i had convinced myself that you were going to leave me, so i had to do it first, before i fucked up."
your sorrowful confession hangs in the air like an echo and you finally give in to the urge to look at him, and you're shocked– he looks at you so carefully, his expression soft, much, much softer than before. you couldn't stop the tears from finally falling if you tried , the soft glow of the dashboard illuminating the contours of your now wet face. your shared eye contact makes you feel nervous, but not in the way you were expecting– it's too gentle, too raw and it makes you feel a certain way.
"i know it's not an excuse," you're blubbering so much that your cheeks feel hot, you're practically falling apart in the passenger seat of jaehyun's car while he watches and lets you pour all your miseries out onto him. "you don't know how much i regretted it...but i thought i did the right thing. for the both of us. even though i just ended up doing what i was trying to avoid by hurting you."
it's too much now, jaehyun's too silent, and too not-angry for your liking; why is he looking at you in a way that makes you feel like he doesn't think you're the worst person in the world? you can't hold back the sob that's building in your chest, doubling over in favour of pressing your hands against your face and bawling into them. you're not too loud a cryer, but the tremors of emotion you feel are making your shoulders shake, so you're crying silently into your hands while trembling. however guarded he tries to be, the gentleness of his voice overpowers it as he speaks. "i know, shh...," he murmurs and you can't believe your ears, that the man you thought hated you is actually attempting to comfort you after everything. "breathe, y/n."
like it's second nature to him, his hand travels to your back as the sobs wrack through your body, immediately drawing soothing circles on to your covered skin with his thumb. you don't know how but this almost makes you feel worse, the fact that he's still so caring towards you. you pluck up the strength to lift your face from your moist hands, and you're sure it's not a pretty sight that greets him. your nose feels unbelievably stuffy, and your face is on fire when you meet his sympathetic eyes, the warmth from his gaze and hand spreading throughout you, even though he's now removed it. "i'm sorry," you manage through sniffles, but you think you almost flatline when he reaches his hand towards your face, ever so gently caressing it. his thumb juts out and sweeps across the skin under your eye, wiping away at the wetness. "i know."
"shh, it's okay. you're okay", he coos gently and slowly takes his hand back in favour of imitating slow breaths for you, helping you relax a little as you copy him. "why would you think i'd leave you?", he asks carefully once you've calmed down a bit and wiped your tear-streaked face, simply surveying you now. all you can offer him is a defeated shrug, attempting to collect your thoughts. "remember i told you about my ex? the very first one?"
he nods.
"i moved on obviously, like ages ago, but since then i think i've always had this idea that getting dumped is inevitable", you try to explain, voice small as he listens patiently. "it was either leave them or get left, and i was so scared that it would happen with you, that i'd fuck up so bad that you would leave. i couldn't do it."
he frowns and calls out your name in a way that sounds like he's about to lecture you, but you know he can't tell you anything that you haven't already told yourself. "i know, jae, it was so stupid, i know. i don't regret anything more", you sigh, giving him a tight, small smile when you lock eyes. "i'm sorry."
you notice his eyes soften at the nickname, releasing a quiet huff before he runs a hand through his hair. his body language doesn't carry the same anger it did before when he was ranting, now looking subdued and reflective. "i understand why you did what you did. it was stupid, but i understand", he murmurs, his voice impossibly soft when meeting your gaze, the eye contact so intense that you have to physically remind yourself not to cry again by digging your fingernails into your palms. "i would've never left you."
you nod slowly at his admission, his words hanging in the air. "i should've just talked to you...", you concluded in a sullen way and he doesn't reply in full, just mumbling a soft "yeah" under his breath. you don't mind the silence that fills the car this time, the underlying tension more or less dissipated, but you do notice the time, realising that jaehyun still needs to go back home after dropping you.
"should we, uh...", you gesture towards the road and he jumps up in his seat, as though he forgot that he was driving you somewhere in the first place, muttering "sorry" before twisting the key to start the car. this makes you let out an involuntary giggle and jaehyun shoots you a quick glare which immediately shuts you up, a certain warmth blooming in your chest when you see a small smile creep on to his face out of the corner of your eye.
it's quiet for a bit, jaehyun focusing on the road while you gaze out the window. much to your dismay, both the road and the various buildings and shops start to look a lot more familiar, indicating that you are nearing your home. you shouldn't be dismayed really, because this wasn't the most congenial of car rides, but it means that your time with jaehyun is coming to an end. you don't know what the conversation that took place means for you and him however, because unless you're alarmingly stupid, you feel that he may not hate you as much as he once did. does this mean you might even be able to see him again sometime? in a setting where you're not sweating and shaking at just the thought of seeing him?
you think it might be a bit audacious of you to ask that, so you don't. instead, you turn to him with a light grin, playing with the necklace clasped around your neck. "hey, at least you got some new headphones out of all of this", you joke lightheartedly, eyeing the package sitting on the backseat. he lets out a heartwarming chuckle at your comment, glancing at the bag through his rear view mirror. "i can't believe your parents bought that for me. you think they'll make me return it when they find out we aren't together?", he remarks, and you do your best to ignore the little pang you feel at the reminder of your situation. his comment does make you snort though, and you nod along with him. "nah, you need it more than anyone. your airpods have seen better days."
he laughs again, and you wouldn't believe that you two were arguing back and forth like madmen some twenty minutes back. this feels familiar and comfortable, and you cross your fingers in case you jinx it. "do you remember that time when we planned a picnic..." jaehyun begins, a sense of nostalgia shining through his cheeks. "and you forgot to bring the speakers? and we tried blasting music through my one airpod?"
you can't stop the peals of laughter that escape from your mouth as you nod, covering your mouth when your snort makes him laugh as well. "remind me why we didn't just play the music straight from your phone?", you question, replaying the memory in your mind like it was recent. he pauses to think for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck while he hums. "yeah, what the fuck? why didn't we just do that?"
you're laughing in unison as you take this trip down memory lane together, the next few minutes of the car ride consisting of exclamations of "oh! remember when..." and "that time when...", both of you adding on to the memories with your own perspectives and insights. the fact that the conclusion of your little dispute remains ambiguous doesn't bother you too much at the moment, happy to just enjoy the warm atmosphere while you can.
jaehyun's animatedly recounting a story about your sister downloading a game on his phone when you face him, and the last thing you remember paying attention to was that she had somehow managed to spend a large amount of his actual money on it. your eyes are focused on him now, just studying him, and he seems to realise that you aren't listening to his story when he glances at you.
"what?", he questions, the corner of his eyes crinkling when he narrows them at you in an playful manner, taking one hand off the steering wheel to drum absentmindedly on his thigh. "nothing, i just...", you trail off, scanning his features. "you changed your hair. it's...nice. i wanted to tell you that earlier."
he clearly wasn't expecting the compliment, mouth opening and then closing as he tries to think of an admissible reply. "you like it?", he then asks, a shy smile tugging at his lips when he consciously cards his fingers through the longer bit at the back. at your reaffirming nod and heavy gaze, the expected pink sheen dusts his cheeks and though you can't see them, you know the tips of his ears are pink too. he mumbles something of a timid "thank you", both of you smiling like idiots while he trains his eyes on the road.
not too soon after, his car is pulling into your dark driveway. you can't help the sinking feeling in your chest, lips curved slightly downwards. none of the lights are on, save for the streetlight, illuminating the street in a ghostly, dim way. your house looks just like it had for the past many months, gloomy and lonely, and you're absolutely dreading the idea of moping around once again. if this day spent with jaehyun has showed you anything, it's that you're a 100% sure you've not moved on, and that you won't for a long, long time. simply put, you're still in love with him, and you'll have to carry the cross of your mistake for some time to come.
he switches the ignition off but neither of you move. you're sat in your dull driveway on an otherwise empty street, all the other lights of your neighbouring houses off. neither of you say anything, mostly because you're not sure what one is supposed to say in this situation, so everything is still.
"so–"
"well–"
you let out a nervous chuckle while he smiles a bit, both of you mumbling apologies for interrupting each other. "you go first", jaehyun compels you, but now you don't know what to say because you were just going to make it up as you speak. your mouth has a way of working faster than your brain sometimes, but neither seem to be too functional at the present moment. "no, you go", is all you got, and jaehyun has the nerve to roll his eyes, twisting in his seat a little so he's facing you.
"i was just going to say that we uh, reached your place", he claims in a deadpanned manner, but your car door is still locked and your seatbelt is still locked in. you think you must have lost your mind, hoping that he'd tell you to stay with him forever and never leave (which you would have agreed to in a heartbeat). "i guess we have...", you nod, looking out the window and observing your home. maybe it was the dread of going back to your old routine that gave you the sudden boost of confidence, but you realise he never answered your question from before.
"jaehyun...", you begin but falter when you think you might be overstepping, ultimately deciding to just ask anyway when he looks at you expectantly. "why did you agree to come today? we both know you didn't have to."
he looks like he was dreading the very question you asked for some time, shutting his eyes when he leans his head back against the headrest and sighs. "i don't know", is the answer he gives you, voice muffled through the palms of his hands that are rubbing his face tiredly. biting your lip, you have to hold back a similar sigh because you should've known he's not going to just tell you like that. you have no right to press, but yet you do, one more time. "jaehyun, please?"
maybe it's because you sound so meek, but he drops his hands in favour of looking at you, really looking at you, like he's searching your eyes. "why do you think?", he turns it back on you, but you know this is just his way of avoiding the question. "if i knew, i wouldn't be asking. i know you don't have to tell me, you don't owe me a single thing, i just–", you speak desperately with all of the confidence you can muster, worried that your bottom lip would start trembling again. "please, i need to know."
you're looking each other dead in the eye, and while your voice isn't strong, it's honest and raw, and jaehyun can sense that. you can see that there's a million thoughts running in his mind just by the pained look in his eye and your own heartbeat has picked up, the sound deafening in your ears.
"if you haven't figured it out by now, i don't know what to tell you."
thud. thud. thud. you wonder if he can hear your heartbeat over the sound of his, but the blood pumping through your veins is making your ears ring, because what did he mean by that? you hope it means what you want it to mean, but you can't just assume you know everything because you're delusional at this point. "jaehyun, what are you sayi–"
"i agreed because i'm still in love with you."
there it is. the silence after his confession is positively deafening, your mouth agape as your try to register what you just heard. your eyes flicker between his, searching for any signs that he's just messing you and that it's some cruel joke, though it would be completely in his right to fuck with you if he wanted. he's never looked more vulnerable, eyes trained on you in an almost frantic way, like he himself can't believe what he just said. the way he just blurted it out makes you think that he didn't fully mean to admit that, but it's out, nothing he could do to take it back.
"what?", your own voice sounds like an echo and you wish you had something else to say because you heard him loud and clear, but there's a burning ache in your chest that claws all the way up to your throat. the shock is evident in your voice, not knowing what to do with yourself as you visibly process his words. "tell me you're joking", you plead in a pained way, words barely above a whisper. he doesn't say anything, looking lost in his own thoughts as his eyes scan your face. "you don't hate me?"
"hate you?", he scoffs disconsolately, shaking his head slowly. "i couldn't hate you if i tried. and believe me, i tried."
you can hardly believe your ears. you know your heart shouldn't be pounding the way it is, it feels wrong almost for you to be feeling as relieved as you are. "after everything?", you insist dumbfoundedly, but the longing in your voice is palpable, even if you're trying to give him a way out. "i was so horrible to you, jaehyun." you hate the way your voice cracks, but jaehyun just sighs and offers you a sad smile.
"there's nothing you could do to make me hate you."
it's heartbreaking, how defeated he sounds, but he's also looking at you like you could do no wrong in his eyes. "i never moved on", you whisper, hesitance clear as you tell him the truth. "i couldn't delete any of our pictures, i still have all your clothes, sometimes i accidentally set the table for two when it's just me..."
he's blinking quickly, and if you didn't know any better, you'd say he was trying to hold back tears. your break-up did nothing but cause immense amounts of pain for the both of you, and you'd give anything in the world to make up the time lost. his wide-eyed and nearly motionless expression urges you to continue, ready to pour out your heart to the man you loved.
"i still have your number memorised", your face mirrors his, voice growing stronger by the minute. "all the gifts and letters you've ever given me, they're all still there in that shoebox in my cupboard."
"i thought about you everyday", his whisper is raspy, speaking right after you do. "every party i went to, i looked for you even though i knew you wouldn't be there. you know johnny tried setting me up with people?"
you try to suppress the little sting, but you feel it deep inside you. "he did?", you have to clear your throat, and you almost don't want to ask but you do anyway. he releases a sad little chuckle and nods, toying with his fingers. "yeah. i knew i was doomed when the whole date, i wished she was you."
the smile finds its way on to your face against your will, feeling that familiar lump make its way to your throat. "she could've made you happy, jae", you argue anyway because at the end of the day, you want the best for him, and you know you're far from the best.
"no one could make me feel the way you do, y/n", he replied honestly, and there's a sense of finality to his words, like he'd had this same argument with himself time and time again, only to come to this conclusion. “the thought of anyone else touching you made me sick”, he croaked, not missing the way his eyes ghost over your frame.
his words bring about a noticeable shift in the air, followed by silence. he watches you, and you watch him, breathing slow as your eyes dart across his face.”i don’t want anyone but you”, you confess slowly, and a few beats pass before you find it in you to speak again. "i love you, jaehyun."
silence.
you expected disapproval, maybe even a malicious scoff, but you certainly weren't expecting to feel a soft pair of lips against yours as he suddenly lurches forward.
you're stunned, so stunned that you don't even reciprocate the kiss, lips unmoving against his. it's only when he takes this as a sign of discomfort and breaks the kiss that you find yourself reacting, hands immediately making their way to caress his cheeks, leaning forward to chase his lips and close the distance between you. he lets out a sound of surprise against your lips but kisses you back right away, a hand wrapping around your neck from the back, tangling itself in your hair. the kiss is heated and so long overdue, tangible through the way his lips meld furiously together with yours, teeth clashing every now and then.
your hands make their way to his broad shoulders, one wrapping around them while the other comes to rest on his chest, gripping the material of his hoodie. you have the urge to be impossibly close to him, trying to lean forward to kiss him more fully but you're restricted by your seatbelt. it's almost as if he can read your mind, because the hand placed against your face now moves to press on the buckle to release you without breaking the kiss. "fucking seatbelt...", he mumbles disgruntedly against your lips, fiddling with the button until you hear it click, finally separating yourself from him to slip it over you. "there we go."
you don't stay separated for long because jaehyun uses the hand behind your head to pull you towards him again, capturing your lips in a way that makes all the air leave your lungs. "come here", he grunts, using his long arms to pull you clumsily over the gearshift and straight on to his lap. you settle yourself in to the somewhat awkward position in the enclosed space, but that's the last thing on your mind when all your thoughts consist of jaehyun, jaehyun, jaehyun. his lips are back on yours in a instance, tongue sweeping across your bottom lip messily and you gladly allow it to explore your mouth.
the air is impossibly thick, heavily contrasting to the cold weather outside the car, even his lips and hands feel warm against your hot body. you feel his hands grip your waist easily in this position, lips leaving your own to drag across the expanse of your jaw. you whine quietly at the feeling of his mouth sucking a particular spot on your neck, tilting your head back as you wrap your arms around his neck. "missed this", he muses, tongue peeking out to kitten lick at your neck, breath hot against your sensitive skin. "missed you."
the feeling in your chest when his hands find their way under your shirt and on to your bare skin is inexplicable, unable to stop the soft moan from tumbling from your lips when his big hands glide over your stomach, back and finally your breasts. everything about the way he's touching you and kissing you is greedy and urgent, like he's afraid you'll disappear from his arms if he loosens his grip even by a little bit. you'd be a fool to not match this energy, pressing into him while you squeeze your hands over his. "need you so bad, jae."
you're subconsciously grinding down against him needily, hips stuttering against his lap like you've never been touched before. "fuck", your eyes widen at the groan that leaves his throat, sounding absolutely guttural as he grips the skin of your hip harshly.
he's barely done anything and you're coming undone right in front of his watchful eyes, your panties dampening at the look on his face. "jae..", you whine when his fingers dip past the waistband of your pants, gently cupping your clothed core as you rut against it. "shit, baby", he marvels at the stickiness of your panties, feeling your wetness on his fingers just through the material. "you really missed me, huh?"
you don't even have the time to respond to his cocky remark before his fingers are slipping beneath the band of your panties to circle your clit, spreading the wetness around your folds. a breathy sigh escapes your lips, throwing your head back as he experimentally prods at your entrance and eventually slips a finger inside. "still so tight for me", he all but groans, pumping his finger in and out of you languidly, drinking in the sounds of your pleasure. he feels so blissfully familiar, and though you haven't been touched by him, or anyone for that matter for months, the stretch of his second finger feels the same kind of intimate as it did before, if not more.
you lean forward and press your lips against his once again, kissing him like you might never get the chance to again, all while you're grinding back down on his hand that's fingering you steadily with a thumb circling your clit at the same time. his free hand moves to bunch your top up above your breasts, peppering kisses over the tops of them. he wastes no time in pulling your breasts free from from their cups, attaching his lips to one nipple and swirling his tongue around it in a way that makes you cry out. "my pretty girl", he mumbles almost to himself while cupping your other breast, making a show out of it as his tongue flicks over your hardened bud over and over until your arching your back and pressing it further into his face. “thought about this all the time.”
keeping in mind that you're still technically in a public place, you bite your lip to contain the sounds of your pleasure, though jaehyun doesn't make it easy when he notices this and increases the pace of his fingers. the hand fondling your breast leaves it unattended for a moment to release your bottom lip from your teeth, smoothing his thumb over the swollen skin. "i've waited months to hear these sounds. let me hear you, baby", he all but purrs and that's all it takes for a moan to tumble out of your mouth, pressing your forehead against the side of his face while you screw your eyes shut out of pleasure.
with his attack on your sensitive buds and his fingers pistoning inside of you, you know you aren't going to last long. "already?", jaehyun chides with a small smirk, and it's embarrassing how well he knows your body, grazing his teeth against your nipple in a way that feels painful and heavenly at the same time. you can feel his rock hard bulge against you, and with the untimely grinding of your hips against him, you're sure this is torturous for him. "don't wanna come like this", you whine against his cheek, your entire body feeling sticky from the heat inside the closed vehicle. your puckered lips leave wet kisses all over the expanse of his cheek, and the boyish giggle that leaves his mouth makes your heart flutter. "wanna feel you, jae."
his head is thrown back against the headrest and his eyes are shut tightly, jaw clenched as he slowly slips his fingers out of you. though you whine at the loss of contact and you're almost grinding against the air, you want nothing more than to make him feel good as well. "want you to fill me up", you coo at him, softly linking your hands behind his neck as you test the waters with your words. it's clear they have an effect on him, both hands placed on your hips as he helps you lazily grind against his erection. "don't– have a condom", he grits out, hips bucking up to meet yours. "don't need one", you murmured immediately, knowing he wants this as bad as you do.
his eyes flicker open at that, one hand leaving your hip to brush some stray hairs away from your face, gently tucking some behind your ear. you could melt at the way he's looking at you, so tender and loving, a warmth spreading all over you until you feel like you have to look away. he doesn't let you however, hand quickly coming you to cup your cheek before leaning in place a small peck against your lips. "are you sure?", he sounds breathless, but still firm as his eyes glance between yours like he's reading them.
if he can read them, he'll know that you can't nod fast enough, dragging your hips across his needily to show him. "i'm sure. i want you, jae.", you're so needy that you don't even bother to take your pants or panties off fully, fingers fumbling with the waistband as you shimmy them down a little, leaving your underwear on. you swear your mouth waters when he unbuttons his pants and lets his cock spring out against his stomach, lustful eyes taking in the way he keeps his shirt up with his teeth. if this weren't such an awkward position, you'd have taken him in your mouth in an instant, knowing exactly what to do to hear the man in front of you whimper.
nudging your panties to the side, he focuses on collecting your wetness all over the tip of his dick, hissing at the contact. "please", you whine, not wanting to waste another moment, finally sighing in relief when he begins to press his cock inside you. he swears under his breath at the feeling, and you're feeling so stretched out just from him slipping it in even though you're still so wet that you just go lax in his arms until he bottoms out. "that's it", he grunts like he's holding back. "taking me so well, angel."
you preen at his praise, finally beginning to move your hips a little at his coaxing. sighing against the shell of his ear, he picks up the pace for you, not warning you before thrusting upwards to meet your movements with a groan. you can feel your mind going blank at the sensation, your moans sounding more like cries whenever he snaps his hips into yours, the obscene sounds filling the car. you're just so full, his hands gliding up and down your sides as he fucks deep inside you, making up for all the lost time. "you feel so good, baby", he barely gets his words out, but it gives you the encouragement to bounce up and down on his thick cock a little faster than before, his eyes widening at the feeling. "just like that."
he's kissing and sucking all over your neck again, lips ghosting over whatever skin he can reach and it's all so much, feeling a single tear stream down your face. he almost slows down for a second when he feels the tear drop on to his own face, eyebrows raised in surprise because he thinks he's hurting you, but he's even more shocked when you let out the high-pitched whine. "what's wrong, angel?", he mumbles into your neck, peering up at you carefully. you shake your head profusely, continuing to grind down on his cock. "i just- just love you so much, jae", you blabber incoherently, so wet that you're practically gushing around his dick.
"aw, baby", he shushes you sweetly, pressing his forehead against yours as his thrusts become more and more erratic. "i'm here. not going anywhere." the coil in your stomach is tightening and you can feel every inch of him inside you, more tears threatening to spill from your eyes before he's kissing them away. "i'm here."
he's hitting all the right spots inside you in this position, and he's basically doing all the work because you're like putty in his strong arms, all you can do is moan and cry out against him weakly. "i'm close", you warn him, but you know he already knows that, and you know he is too, slipping your hand down to where his rests on your hip and interlacing your fingers. "me too, pretty", he sputters through his teeth, giving your hand a tight squeeze as you start to come undone. “want you to cum. can you do that for me?”
"oh my god", you're crying out as you cum around his cock, body and mind going numb and ears ringing as the coil finally snaps. "cum inside me, jae, please", his eyes go wide at the way you're begging him, and he doesn't look like he can hold back much longer. "fuck angel, you- you sure–"
"yes, please, need you to fill me up", you cut him off, too sensitive from the way he's helping you ride out your high to move anymore. with a few more sloppy thrusts, his cock is twitching inside you before you lets out a guttural groan, his warm cum filling you up. you go limp against him, face nuzzled into the crook of his neck as the both of you try to regulate your heartbeats.
the sounds of your heavy breathing fills up the car along with jaehyun's soft murmurs of "so perfect" and "did so well for me". any doubts you had in your mind of this being a mistake in jaehyun's eyes are wiped away when he begins petting your head, gently smoothing your messy hair as he presses firm kisses to your head. his cock softens inside of you but he makes no move to pull out, wrapping his arms around your waist while you do the same around his neck, simply sitting in each other's presence silently.
you struggle but finally pick yourself up, gazing at his moonlit face from your place on his lap. “you okay? was that okay?”, he murmurs softly, his voice thick and eyes hazy as he traces little shapes on your back. “more than okay”, you reply tiredly, pressing your lips against his once again because you feel you’re in a dream-like state right now. you're sure he's the most beautiful man you're ever had the privilege of looking at, feeling incredibly vulnerable when you speak again even though he's looking at you with nothing but love in his eyes. "now what?", you question, suddenly feeling like you've jumped the gun when he opens his mouth to say something but stays silent. "never mind, don't answer that, we'll talk about it later", you shake your head, laughing a little breathlessly when he grins at you, pecking his forehead sweetly.
you look away from him and at your lifeless house, mouth working faster than your brain once again. "would you...want to come in?", you wince, feeling kind of stupid for asking but meaning it anyway. you're both comforted and thrilled when a large grin is plastered on to his face, feeling like maybe your home won't be as lifeless anymore.
"i think i'd love to come in."
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fukashiin · 3 months
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attractive things they do #2 !
— w. housewardens
⤷ "yuutapdatass tweeted: malleus pls stop dming me to rub our feet together as a nightly custom"
cw: hinted suggestive content for malleus, vil and leona. passive reader! enjoy ♡
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RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS
shushing others so you can focus.
pens and textbooks alike cluster along your designated study table, accompanied by the riddle rosehearts as his knee brushes against yours wordlessly. he's utilising this free period, toiling out and about to aid you in your, regretfully, pointless revision. finals season starts to get rigid around this time, so he's more than content to lend a hand if you're willing to put in the effort. except—the students abounded at the table diagonal to yours start getting chattier than what's socially allowed in the library, so riddle calls them out without a pain. one "they're trying to focus." and their mouths are zipped. he turns back to you, unperturbed, and smiles. "shall we continue?"
SO patient with you it makes you cry.
riddle may be a bomb of ire waiting to burst at any given moment, but you believe that his patience shouldn't go uncredited. a tireless awardee, a distinguished laureate, going sleepy in your eyes, although he's wrestling to win over the urge just so you can get the hand of the concept he's cramming into your head last-minute. the scent of white petunias could really alleviate his fatigue, and you make a promise to bring over a few of those in favour for his devoutness to your study sessions. for the time being, he'll make sure you pass, for him, and for yourself.
vows that he'll outdo your stupid ex in every way.
whatever your ex did wrong, riddle will do better. that's just in his nature. he swears with each and every fibre of his body, nuzzling his head in the dip of your shoulder, that he'll love you in ways that your morose ex never bothered to think about. a muttered pledge that couldn't compare to the pious burn that lit in his eyes, like a withstanding candle refusing to go out. his confessions are firm, where he'll be the betterment that you wished for on an astral night, so please, don't put him in your doubt.
LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
pressing you against the nearest wall he spots to kiss you.
there are numerous attributes to this man that renders you hopelessly drunk in love. one of them is his maddening habit of pressing you flushed against the nearest surface in his sight, and the most poorly lit areas when you're in stranded in a public space to guise the both of you. he executes this with the softest hint of care, ensuring that the landing wasn't too harsh, and advancing when given the green light. wispy strands of hair stroke your skin like a feather, as fine lips come crashing down to yours in a heartbeat, in paradise. he gives you a sheer once-over, bringing up the following statement: "grab onto my vest if you need to."
breathes the confidence into you.
downgrading oneself may be in his dictionary, but it won't appear in yours. he'll clasp any opportunity to brandish his infamous eye-roll to those whose comments about you stray a bit too loud. you may be a bit thrown off by the audacity and aimlessly think about the ways of which you could live up to his—your standards. you take a bit to reorient yourself when you hear your name being called out, sluggish hands circling your waist, as you're unable to finish your thought about how beautiful he is until he asks whether you're actually sparing a single thought for those nobodies. he casually states that you're leagues better than them, whether you think so or not, and won't mind giving you a physical demonstration if you can't bring yourself to accept it yet, because he knows it.
just knows what you want without you having to tell him.
eyeing an accoutrement that could accent your main outfit? longing for a new stand-alone book after the last one you buried yourself in was a letdown? leona has the prices covered. despite your incessant denial, that you don't actually need those, he tells you that a little spending wouldn't hurt. he doesn't need verbal expression to know what'll satisfy you, the flit of your gaze is the only opening he requires. you're embarrassed by how easily you're read, but the hearty smile that blooms on your face will be all the excuses leona needs to keep spoiling you.
AZUL ASHENGROTTO
drapes his coat over your legs if you're cold.
sometimes, you swear that he has the whole "affection capability" of a wooden plank. his actions aren't entirely faultless, nor was there not a single second of err in the delivery of his speeches, but he does haul around that handy coat solely for moments like these. perched wordlessly on top of mostro lounge's signature high stools, azul rebukes your rash behaviour after spurting out in the rain without an umbrella, clothes weatherworn and all—not to mention the lounge's benevolent addition of its AC. the chills rack your body from head to toe, not noticing that a fuzzy warmth starts to blanket your legs, as azul pats it down creaseless. he says that you can pay him in return at a later date, your declining health is his utmost priority at the moment.
sets you straight when you need it.
his prized coin collection seems to blur boorishly, bleeding into the soft jazz playing in the back. the thirsting need to word-vomit all over the place, thanks to the hours of ennui you've been experiencing ever since you've trudged yourself back to azul's room, threatens to tip over the edge. he notes your irresolute responses to his (nearly) bombarding questions while he's planted over at his desk, and takes the initiative to make you open up to him. he wants you to look at him, commit his words to memory, as he caresses your shoulder under the twinkling lavender glow of his night lamp with a sure look in his eyes, guaranteeing that you're going to do fine.
has a secret album dedicated to pictures of you in his gallery.
azul tries to get accustomed to the revolutionising tricks of technology just for you. fine, if he has to pass through every single hyperlink and learn unfamiliar terms, that's on him. other than owning a booming magicam account promoting #mostrolounge, he saves a single, peculiar file in his gallery that hoards all the pictures he's taken of you when you're together, on a date or not. he can't tell if your lovely visage is the sole cause to the rapid change of pace in his heart when he's dealing with a mounting workload, but if you ever drag yourself down after taking a quick glance at them, he'll bring you right back up.
KALIM-AL-ASIM
clears the hair out of your face when its windy.
you may be a tad bit hesitant to ride the magic carpet every once in a while, but kalim's sparkling serendipity puts your heart at ease. he takes you for a midnight rendezvous, golden embroidery flashing and sheening at every twist and turn you direct with the tassels with aplomb—as he compliments. his headpieces jangle merrily like a thousand bells in the breeze, up until he notices your sight being blocked by the troublesome hair whirling all over the place. chuckle as he may, he shifts it to the side of your face with a deft hand, tracing the last strands down to your chin. "there. seeing better now?"
interlaces your hand with his in your sleep. (the physical touch GOAT)
wrinkled bedsheets rustle under the weight of your movements, coarse, and even a bit sullen as the morning ooze of sunlight drenches through your curtains, as if it prohibits you to sleep in the entire day. kalim's newfound ailment forces the two of you to be separated indefinitely, so colour yourself surprised when you feel the taut clutch of your hand in another, holding onto the remaining pieces of you that he needily ached for all night. sun-kissed fingers wove between yours like silken ribbons, his eyes pleading for you to stay, as a minute—a moment without you in his world—would be infallible torture.
purchases a piece of the moon for you.
you know those moneyed, wealthy fans who purchase a piece of the moon for their favourite idol? kalim gets influenced, and is driven by his conviction that you deserve something more extravagant than rowdy parades or a hallowed mansion (regardless of how many he wishes to buy). he takes it upon himself to surf across Lunar Registry, registering your full name and gifting its stated amount for approximately...5000 sq ft of land of the celestial body that hung high in the sky, radiating its extraterrestrial luminance on your nights of sobriety. you chide him for such an impulsive act in return, but soften up when he states, upright, that he would gift you all the stars in space if he could.
VIL SCHOENHEIT
brings you to touch him himself.
no use if you're cowardly in the bold language of physical touch, vil will simply make you oblige into feeling him, whether its physically or through minds. oftentimes you find yourself hastily straddled on his lap, him decked in his satin-sewn pajamas, as you prod and poke his hands nervously while scrutinizing every area of skin that screamed of his unyielding years of care. there's a teasing lilt that lurks behind his voice, questioning if you're seriously taking your time trying to figure him out where you're aware that he's less than patient. he seizes your hand in his grip, and leads them to his chest—shamelessly. if he needs to remind you of who you're with every day, he'll be more than committed to reel you closer to his body.
demands full eye contact.
tsking and huffing is, an unsurprisingly normal habit for him to adapt. and this includes moments of when you're shying away from him, heaving under your tense breath about how unfairly attractive he is. slick in his latest outfit tailored specifically according to his calibrated measurements. high stilettos bests your height, and he almost seems disappointed in the lack of praise he's receiving (although he knows exactly why). you feel a manicured finger tilt your chin upwards, as your teetering praises come to an abrupt halt. he smiles, demanding you to look him in the eyes throughout every second you're worshipping him.
tells you to ready yourself before he showers you in his love.
vil wants you to experience each and every slide of his nails against your feverish skin, whispering pure promises and cherishing you, affirming that you're worth much more to him than a million grand. if you ever throw yourself below the bar lower than necessary, he waves your deplorable behaviour away, and asks if you truly believe that you're tumbling down that route of thinking when you're with him. vying arms enclose your figure like a velvet blanket, surrendering your chapped lips a centimetre away from his, as his refined scent tickles your nose until he advises you to prepare yourself to revel in his untiring devotion. all your worthwhile priorities were put on hold until further notice.
IDIA SHROUD
leaning back in his chair after finishing a game.
you arose from your sleep, previously dozing off while perusing written tales of the past propped up on idia's bed. the culprit of your awakening is off cheering in the same vicinity after speed running a round and emerging victorious, unmanned, of the latest version of a first-person shooter game he recently installed on his computer. he starts to recline in his chair as it creaks off his weight, arms slackened behind his head and his sweater gliding off of his stomach, exposing the barest bit of delicate skin that indulges you to run your hands across. he emits the heaviest of sighs while he runs a sore hand through his hair, as the disorientation of your mind starts to scatter all over the place.
"i thought it'd cost more."
Idia Shroud will not have you get scammed by lowly, needling scammers surfacing online websites like newborn piranhas. his head begins to split when you spout about the official item being too pricey and that you won't be able to milk a single penny out of your derelict dorm, so he insists that he pays for the item for you himself. you send him a link of the mentioned item, and he felt like he was dragging himself through wet cement throughout the whole mire. he remains indifferent to the price overall, and goes "oh? i thought it'd cost more." with a brazen smirk etched on his face that it almost gave you a whiplash.
discreetly orders things to your front door.
quivering lips settle atop of your shoulder for the last time before he sends you back from his room after the intimate amour that had you two wondrously occupied for the entire day. you pilfer a single gummy worm from his desk, and cloak yourself further into his jacket that intoxicates every one of your senses as you streel into the night air that reeked of petrichor. your steps begin to feel like bricks, whilst your eyes were betraying your wish to stay alert. as you approach the front door welcoming you to your dorm, you gauge the sight of a small box placed on the carpet with a small note plastered on it that follows the lines of "for you, pretty thing."
MALLEUS DRACONIA
cushioning your head with his hand.
bony fingers sail through the pleasance of your hair, twirling each and every tendril that it meets and bringing them to his defined, pillowy lips. amusement cracks through the ominosity that sits in his eyes, shielded by his bangs as he beams a smile your way before grasping your shoulders in a split second. he pushes you down onto the mattress with a thud, cushioning your head with a single hand, and tells you to save your yelps and complaints before he endows you with the ability to sing for him all night. he reassures you that he does in fact, know how to secure the deadbolt on the door.
doesn't bother with any potential contenders whatsoever.
malleus but it's "okay, and?" personified. yes, he's heard of the towering sovereign in the neighbouring country who was recently appointed. yes, he's heard of the lucrative salesman nearby situated in town whose attention you captured after visiting his booth. yes, he's heard of Leona Kingscholar. but he could not give Two (2) flying tamagotchis about whoever has been swaying your way, tossing cheap and low-grade courtship in an attempt to earn your affection. he notes that he does have some cheesy pick-up lines of his own to use, but unlike the others, he knows you inside and out. he has no use for the mainstream ways of love and is eager to please you to his own liking, further revealing the unparalleled reverence he maintains for you and only you.
brushes his fingers over your collarbone.
once you step across the threshold of his bathroom, adorned in his nightwear, malleus can't help but dim the lights with the flick of his finger after catching the sight of your collarbone that peaks out from underneath. he's in front of you the moment you blink, and hums in response to your addled self. he brings his ice-tipped fingers to your neck, padding it with caution, and sliding them down to the V-shaped collar that hides the rest of your warmth. stark fingers ghost over the structure of your collarbone, and malleus asks whether you think the gibbous moon will be kind enough as to not set so early.
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