#hmm I need to figure out my tags one day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

toruro · 1 year

Text

love you twice — j. wonwoo — part three

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4

description: in which your extremely hot and sexy one night stand turns out to be your son’s teacher. naturally, chaos ensues, but you might just find love as your life continues to take an unexpected turn.

warnings/tags: sexual content (18+), oral (f receiving), phone sex, mentions of past toxic relationships, thigh riding, wall sex, use of pet names (mostly angel and good girl)

w/c: 8.3k

a/n: so sorry this took a while to get out! i’ve had lots of work and just finished up traveling soooo writing this got pushed back but! that gave me time to brainstorm since i honestly never expected this story to be more than two parts LOL! but i appreciate all the love and support <3 all your comments and messages have made me so happy, and i hope you like this!

“Hey Kei-Kei!” you call out, walking out to the playground to watch your son play with his friends. It’s Friday, and of course that means fun day. You sit down at a bench crossing your arms over your chest as Kei makes his way from the slide to run up to you.

“Hey Mommy, I can play today, right?” he asks with a hopeful smile. You reach down to ruffle his hair a little, nodding.

“Yeah of course. I’ll wait here, so come to me if you need anything, okay?”

“Mhm,” he agrees, before running back to play with his friends. You smile contently, leaning back into the bench when you see a familiar figure approach from the corner of your vision.

“Hey,” Wonwoo greets cooly, sitting down next to you. It’s been a week since your fourth date, and you haven’t seen him since. Your fingers are aching to reach over and hold his hand, yet you hold your touch, glancing at Kei.

“Hi, how was your day?” you ask casually, turning to him to see him better.

“It’s great. Fridays are always great, aren’t they?”

“I guess you’re right about that. I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t happy that it was Friday,” you murmur to yourself thoughtfully before turning your attention back to Wonwoo. He’s about to respond, but then you both hear a familiar voice calling for you.

“Hey Mommy,” Kei greets, running up to you from the side without noticing Wonwoo sitting next to you. “‘m getting tired now,” he says admittedly, and you pay on your lap to invite him.

“Is that so…” you murmur, “You gonna say ‘hi’ to Mr. Jeon?” You raise your brow and crook your head toward the man next to you, Kei turning slowly to realize who it is.

“Hi Mr. Jeon!” he exclaims happily, jumping onto your lap and waving brightly at his teacher. “What’cha doing here? Aren’t you on your weekend? My mom hates being at her work when she’s started her weekend, she always complains when her boss calls her on the evenings on Fridays.” Your cheeks burn as Wonwoo laughs, and you turn away.

“Is that so?” Wonwoo asks, looking up at you with a teasing glance. “Well, I can’t say I call this work, Kei. I enjoy talking to your m—“ he pauses to glance at you. There’s something thick in the air, as if there’s a line he doesn’t know if he should cross. “—I enjoy this,” he chooses to say.

Kei, in his young innocence, doesn’t pick up on Wonwoo’s hesitance. “Hmm, okay,” he says, placing a finger on his chin as if he’s thinking.

You look down at him, placing a hand on his head. “Do you want to go home now?” you ask him, eyes flickering at Wonwoo and sending a sympathetic gaze his way—you aren’t fond of cutting your time with him so early.

“Aren’t you talking to Mr. Jeon?” Kei asks, and your heart nearly melts at his consideration.

“Yeah, but if you want to go home we will,” you reassure. Kei frowns, and Wonwoo chimes in.

“If you’re tired you should go with your mom, Kei. Playing is nice, but you should always listen to your body,” Wonwoo explains, standing up.

Kei’s frown deepens, and you furrow your brows, peering down at him. It’s not often that Kei is pouty like this, so you aren’t sure what’s going on. He’s motioning his hand for you to come close, and you figure he wants to tell you a secret. Leaning in, Kei brings his face up to your ear.

“I wanna talk to Mr. Jeon,” he whispers, and you have to bite down on your lip to hold back your grin as you pull back, giving him a small nod.

“Why don’t we talk together Wonwoo?” you suggest to the man standing next to you, and you can tell his eyes light up at the idea as he sits down.

“Yeah of course. What do you wanna talk about, Kei?” he asks, leaning an elbow on his knees to lean forward in interest.

“Okay so in class today you were talking about pie but I was wondering why you…” Kei continues to talk on his own tangent as you find yourself being into your own thoughts. Your heart swells at the sight, and it’s a wonderful reminder of just why Wonwoo is a teacher and why he has such a good reputation.

After a few minutes of Kei going back and forth with Wonwoo with his curious questions, you take note of the chilling air around you, and so does Wonwoo. “Anyways Kei, it was so nice talking to you but it’s getting a bit cold. You shouldn’t be out here for too long,” he says, standing up.

Kei pouts once more, and while you did cave once, you aren’t keen on doing it again. “He’s right Kei-Kei, I don’t want you to get sick…” you murmur, voice trailing off as you watch the look of defeat on your son’s face. A thought crosses your mind as you catch the look on Wonwoo’s face.

“Hey Kei, we can go to that restaurant tonight,” you tell him, enjoying the way his face lights up. “And…” you mumble, looking up at Wonwoo who stands above you, “maybe Mr. Jeon would like to tag along?”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen, and for a moment you’re scared that you’ve crossed the invisible line—it’s not as if you've made anything official, or talking about bringing things up with Kei, so this is all unknown territory. It’s silent, and you’re about to turn away and retract your idea before Wonwoo speaks.

“I’d like that,” he says, and you can tell he’s trying to hide your excitement. Your body courses with relief, and you look down at Kei for the final confirmation. As expected, there’s a grin adorning his face and you break out a smile of your own.

“Yay!” he squeals, hopping off from his seat on your lap. You purse your lips as you stand up and turn to Wonwoo slightly worriedly.

“Is this okay?” you ask quietly, as Kei runs across the playground to grab his backpack.

Wonwoo gives you a stern look, and you feel like you might go cozy from how intense his gaze is. “Are you okay with this?” he shoots back. “You’re his mom. Don’t do this if you don’t want,” he tells you more softly this time. “Don’t rush for me. I can wait. I will.” Your stomach tumbles at the words and implications—that Wonwoo is here, that he will be here, that he will be patient.

You let the words sink into your mind for a moment. You like Wonwoo—like really like him—and you want to tread carefully. You don’t want to make a stupid mistake by rushing into things, ruining the one good thing that’s come to you after Kei. Yet again, your gut feeling is nearly always right, and right now your gut is telling you that nothing but good can come out of this dinner between the three of you.

So that’s pretty much how you end up at your and Kei’s favorite diner, you and your son sitting side by side at the booth while Wonwoo sits across, his hands neatly folded as Kei continues to talk to him. You aren’t sure what’s possessed him—it’s really cute, honestly—but he’s never this talkative and you wonder just what it is about Wonwoo that has Kei so comfortably chatty.

“What do you like to get from here Kei?” Wonwoo asks, leaning forward in your son’s direction. Kei bounces up in his seat, pointing down at the menu, you and the man in front of you sharing a fond look before turning back to him.

“I like the chicken sandwich and the macaroni and the vanilla cake is so yummy even my mommy likes it and she doesn’t like vanilla and then I also like the chicken nuggets and—” You place a hand on his shoulder, and Kei stops to look up at you.

“Slow down, Kei-Kei,” you tell him. “One at a time, okay?”

“Okay Mommy,” Kei replies absentmindedly before turning back to Wonwoo to continue, “so then there’s chicken nuggets and I also like the milkshake and my mommy’s favorite is the fries but I don’t like them that much and I also like…”

Kei’s voice trails off in your head, your mind being pulled into some other world as the scene in front of you sinks in. You feel warm, you feel comfortable, you feel happy.

You’re floating in an off land world, and suddenly all of your worries have disappeared. All you see is bright white and three shadows. It’s a silent promise to yourself, you realize, and as you focus back on the banter between your son and your boyfriend, you become even more determined to follow through with it.

The evening ends with Kei not once halting his immersive conversation with Wonwoo, and if anything, you’re surprised that the latter still has it in him to listen so carefully and attentively. As he walks you two to your car, you’re hit with the slight disappointment that you can’t quite give him the goodbye kiss you would want to, but you both settle on sharing a long and intense few seconds of eye contact that sends you the message you both need to hear.

Arriving home, you wash yourself and Kei up, and after tucking him into bed you’re met with a text from your one and only.

i had fun

You grin.

i did too

It’s the next week, and you are once again in a rush before another date with Wonwoo. This time at least, you prepared your outfit ahead of time, but you spent maybe a little too long trying to find where you kept your favorite set of earrings which set you back about twenty minutes.

“Ugh, I’m sorry, I didn’t have time to make you guys some food,” you grumble to Jun once you have everything in your home in place, looking at your cousin exhausted.

He chuckles, “It’s alright, don’t worry, I’ll get us takeout or something.”

“I’ll make it up by making your favorite next time,” you promise, leaning against the counter. You spent the last few moments rushing around the house trying to find Kei’s stuffed animal that he insisted on having with him every night, eventually finding it stuck behind the fridge (how it ended up there, you still don’t know).

“I like the sound of that. You got a date tonight?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“So,” Jun says with an eyebrow raised. His voice is unusually teasing, and you give him a wary look as you take a sip of water. “Wonwoo, huh?”

You choke on the water, coughing and sputtering liquid everywhere over your counter as you turn to look at Jun with wide eyes. “How the fuck do you—“ you gasp out, before wheezing once more.

“He’s friends with Minghao you know,” Jun explains with a smirk as he leans back onto the fridge. “Me and him have met up a few times for dinner with friends and Kei was just telling me how you had dinner with Kei and his teacher…and so I asked for his teacher’s name and when he did it rang a bell and well…I put two and two together.”

You hardly blink as Jun finishes up his tangent, the words processing in half speed. Jun chuckles at your state, patting your shoulder lightly. “Wonwoo’s a great guy. It’s kind of funny though. How you’re like dating Kei’s teacher.”

“Shut up!” you shriek, punching his shoulder. “Don’t bring that part up, it’s embarrassing.”

“Hey, you kind of brought this upon yourself. Definitely unexpected, but I guess it’s a funny story.”

“It’s not funny,” you murmur solemnly, burying your face in your hands. “It’s so stressful Jun.”

The humorous look on your cousin’s face is now replaced with one of concern as your voice lowers. “Okay, I’m sorry for making fun of you. I’m happy you’ve found someone you like, and that he’s like, actually someone decent,” he adds, alluding to your previous past failed relationships.

Rolling your eyes, you huff, “Wonwoo is great…it’s just complicated. For Kei, you know? How am I supposed to bring things up with him, if things do end up going further.”

Jun looks up thoughtfully before responding. “I think…you should listen to your instincts. You haven’t really dated since Seojun—hey, don’t give me that look—“

“Do you have to bring him up,” you groan, throwing your head back. Jun shoots you an apologetic look but doesn’t relent.

“Look, I’m just saying that the fact that you’re even with Wonwoo right now is a good sign that you’re ready. You’ve never done anything without putting Kei first, and I know that you’re thinking about him every step of the way, so trust yourself. And Wonwoo is great—dude he’s literally a first grade teacher.”

“Yeah, I know, but he’s Kei’s teacher,” you emphasize. “Like imagine how confusing that is for him.”

“I guess, but like if you’re confident about your relationship or whatever with Wonwoo then I think you should trust that.”

“I dunno,” you sigh, walking out of the kitchen.

Jun follows behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder so you can look at him properly. “Trust me, and trust yourself. It’ll be fine.”

Fuck, you think to yourself, because you sure hope so. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you find Kei in his room, giving him a quick hug and bidding him goodbye with a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you in a few hours, okay Kei-Kei?”

Focused on his own little drawing, he waves back with a small smile before turning his attention back to his drawing, saying something along the lines of, “Bye-bye Mommy!” Retreating back to the doorway where Jun stands, you check your phone for the time before picking up your purse and heading toward the door.

“Have fun with Wonwoo. I’ll be sure to ask him how it goes,” Jun says with a smirk as you turn the knob, glaring at your cousin.

“Do it and I’ll tell Minghao how you used his toothbrush on your last trip because you forgot your own,” you threaten.

Jun laughs as you walk out into the apartment hallway before worriedly calling out, “Hey you wouldn’t actually do that. Right? Right? RIGHT?!”

Wonwoo’s car is parked out in front of your building, his windows down so he can watch you walking out. When you recognize him and his car, you smile brightly and Wonwoo thinks his heart damn nearly pops out of his chest as you bound toward him.

“About time,” he greets with a smile, unlocking the doors as you approach the passenger seat. You roll your eyes at him as you open the door and slip in. Instead of responding, you choose to lean over the midrest and press a firm kiss onto Wonwoo’s lips, pulling back just as quickly as you dove in.

“Is someone complaining?” you retort, reaching back to put on your seatbelt, grinning at the way the tips of his ears turn pink and he turns back to look at the road.

“Not at all,” he replies quickly, and you’re surprised that he doesn’t sound as flustered as he looks, making it a personal goal to embarrass him just a little more the next time you have the chance.

The rest of the car ride is quiet, save for the radio playing in the background and small conversations about the view as he drives you to the spot he took you on your first date. Pulling up into the field, you grin at the familiar scene. The evening air is warm but the breeze is cool and refreshing on your skin, oranges and pinks painting the sky as you help Wonwoo take out the picnic blanket from the trunk and lay it out on a flat patch of grass.

“So,” you begin, sitting down across from him on the blanket as he pulls out some packed food. Handing you a plate, you grin, watching him settle down himself. “Jun?” you ask curiously, wondering the extent of his friendship with your cousin.

Wonwoo looks up at you with an odd look, one eyebrow raised. “Jun? What about him? You know him?” he asks all at once, causing you to giggle.

“You know him?” you counter, and he scoffs.

“Of course I know him. Him and his best friend are basically joined at the hip—he never shuts up about Jun,” Wonwoo groans as he stands up to walk back to the car to grab something.

“Minghao?” you call out, eyes trailing his figure.

“Who else, babe, who else?” Wonwoo mutters sarcastically, bringing out a bottle of champagne, much to your delight. You chuckle at his response, leaning back on your hands. “So, how do you know Jun?” he asks, sitting back down cross-legged in front of you.

“He’s my cousin,” you say casually, holding up one glass he’s brought down so he can pour you some. Wonwoo seems to falter in shock for a moment, eyes flickering at yours to confirm that you aren’t joking before pouring out the bubbling drink.

“Really? I didn’t expect that.”

“Are you surprised?”

“Hmm, I don’t know if that’s the right way to put it,” Wonwoo replies with a shrug, pouring his own glass and holding it up to yours so you can clink them together with a small ‘cheers.’ “I’m not that close with Jun. I guess you can say it’s a pleasant surprise, you know? We’re connected.” Your heart flutters at the words, scooting yourself closer to him. “How’d you know I know Jun?”

“Well,” you trail off, grabbing your fork and popping one of the fritters Wonwoo brought into your mouth, “Jun actually figured it out first. Apparently one day when he was babysitting Kei, Kei let it slip that we had dinner together and Jun asked for your name and…well he isn’t stupid so he got it.”

“Kei told him?” Wonwoo asks, and you can hear the twinge of worry in his voice. Reaching out a hand, you give him a comforting look.

“Yeah, I told him not to tell other kids at his school but obviously that doesn’t include Jun so he just mentioned it,” you explain.

“Oh thank god,” Wonwoo mutters. “Imagine the earful I’d get from the principal if word got around the parents that I was taking my student and his mother out for dinner.”

“I can imagine the earful you’d get from other moms to have their own dinners with you,” you murmur, huffing at the thought. Wonwoo gives you a funny look. “Okay don’t give me that look, you know they think you’re hot.”

“But I am hot,” Wonwoo replies smugly, and you glare at him as you pull your hand away from his to cross them over your chest.

“Whatever,” you grumble, turning your head away. Catching onto your sulky mood, Wonwoo reaches out on his own to grab your forearm to tug you towards him. You stumble over your knees a little, but within seconds his arms are steadying around your waist and pulling you next to him so you can rest your body against him.

“Okay sorry,” he tells you sincerely, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I can’t control how they think, but I can control how I think, and I think that you’re the hottest person alive.”

Your cheeks burn, and you squeeze your eyes shut in his hold. “Shut up, don’t be corny.” Wonwoo laughs, holding up a sandwich to the front of your lips, encouraging you to open up. As you heed his silent requests, Wonwoo responds.

“You know you love it.”

Mouth full, you grumble something about telling him to shut up again, which has Wonwoo laughing more.

“Can I ask you something?” he asks after some time spent finishing your food and bickering, and you can tell from the way his voice is an octave deeper that this conversation is taking a different turn.

“Yeah, of course,” you say as you shift your head to a more comfortable position on his shoulder.

“And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he adds and you furrow your eyebrows, looking up at him. His expression is unreadable, but you have an idea of where this is going.

Thinking for a moment, you reply, “It’s about Kei’s father, isn’t it?”

Wonwoo frowns. “Am I that readable?” You smirk slightly at the way his cheeks tint pink, continuing, “Like I said, you don’t have to answer. I’m just curious.”

“No it’s okay, you deserve to know,” you quickly tell him, shyly adding the last part before turning back to look at the meadows in front of you. “Since you’re like, actually my boyfriend now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Wonwoo,” you breath out with a chuckle.

“Okay, okay, sorry just tell me.”

“Kei’s father and I dated in high school and college, but it was mostly on and off. It was weird. He was kind of weird.”

“Weird?” Wonwoo asks, raising a brow.

“We just didn’t match. Would get into arguments and break up over stupid shit and get back together for god-knows-why,” you explain, reaching for one of Wonwoo’s hands to play with as you recount the story. He lets his hand relax as you run the pads of your fingers over his palm, tracing them over the lines absentmindedly as you recount.

It’s a story that you haven’t often had to tell—you haven’t had anyone to tell—and the words feel odd on your tongue. The story of you and Seojun—no, actually, it’s the story of you and Kei—is one that you’ve mauled over in your mind for the past five years, spending endless tears to the point where even if you wanted to cry right now, you wouldn’t be able to.

“What’s this guy’s name by the way?” Wonwoo asks, interrupting your thoughts.

“Why do you wanna know?” you ask teasingly. “Gonna kick his ass or something?”

“I might,” he responds playfully, suddenly holding your hand that’s playing with his, bringing it close to the warmth of his body.

“Seojun. I think me getting pregnant was his kind of reality check that he wasn’t meant to be, as ironic as that sounds. Probably realized that fatherhood wasn’t for him, and so I wasn’t either,” you chuckle to yourself, and for the first time in a while, you laughing at yourself isn’t bitter, it’s light-hearted.

“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo tells you sincerely, and you can tell when you look up at him that his eyes are searching for the right words to say. “That must have been hard—to go through that alone.”

“I managed. I had Jun helping me anyways.” There’s a silence, and you feel there’s more Wonwoo wants to ask, yet he’s holding his tongue. You realize now that this might be an awkward topic for him to ask about, and you squeeze his hand tightly in reassurance. “Is there anything else you want to know? I told you, I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

Wonwoo sighs, looking down at you with an expression that is more solemn than anything. “I don’t want to probe.”

“You’re not. I’d want to know too,” you clarify. “I’m not upset about this or anything. I got over it a long, long time ago, so this isn’t really like an uncomfortable topic for me. Honestly, I was never even upset about Seojun in the first place, I was just upset that Kei wouldn’t have a dad.”

“What does Kei know, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Nothing really. I guess he’s kind of aware that most people have two parents,” you murmur. “He doesn’t ask any questions though, I’m not sure why.”

“Kei’s smart,” Wonwoo tells you, letting go of your hand to run it through your hair soothingly. “Both academically and emotionally. Maybe he just knows when and where he should ask certain questions.”

“He’ll have to know sooner or later. I’m guessing later it is,” you say, rubbing your eyes a little from having them open for too long. “I guess this just makes my job easier. I have more time to think about it.” A thought crosses your mind, and you look up at Wonwoo with wide eyes. “Why do you want to know all this? I don’t mind, I’m just curious.”

Wonwoo chews on his lip, and you take a mental image (fuck, he looks hot, but now isn’t the time for that), before he responds, “Well you know I’m serious about you,” he begins to explain, and right off the bat do you feel something bubble up in your stomach—butterflies. “I just wanted to know the situation with Kei, so I have an idea of where that places me, you know?” You can tell he’s trying to be casual about it but the slight waver in his voice gives away his anxiousness.

“Mhm,” you agree. “It’s confusing, for me too. I think we should just go with the flow. If you really want to know more though,” you say, tossing him a playful glance, “Seojun isn’t going to come back any time soon. Or ever, for that matter, so you don’t have much to worry about.”

“Not much…so there’s still stuff to worry about?” Wonwoo chuckles nervously.

“Well you still gotta get through Kei—he’s the toughest judge, you know?”

“Is that so?” Wonwoo murmurs. “I guess I’ll have to start picking favorites in class now.”

“What a biased teacher!” you gasp dramatically, pulling back from his hold to turn and face him. “I’ll have to report you to the principal!” You crawl into the spot in front of him and place your hands on his chest, pushing him lighty.

Wonwoo grins, circling his hands around your wrists in front of him before replying, “Can you seriously blame me? I’m pretty sure every teacher would have favorites if their students had moms as hot as you.”

Your face burns and you drop your head to his shoulder so Wonwoo can wrap his arms around your torso and pull you onto his lap. “Ugh, you got me there,” you murmur, pulling back and placing your hands on his shoulders before swooping down for a kiss.

It hardly takes more than ten seconds before his tongue is sliding into your mouth, your hips pushing down to meet Wonwoo’s pelvis in an erratic mess. He’s pulling back just as quickly as he dove in, and the feeling of his lips leaving yours makes your head go dizzy.

“While I do love this, I don’t like the idea of doing anything in the car again,” he says casually, putting some space between you two. You frown, but nod along.

“So…” your voice trails off and you’re giving him that look and Wonwoo thinks he might just go insane.

He sighs, pursing his lips into a smile. “So…I guess this just means I’ll have to take you to my place. Again,” he adds, referencing the first night you two spent together after the club. You grin at his words, scrambling off of him and quickly trying to grab the picnic blanket to put back into his car.

“What a shame,” you reply sarcastically as Wonwoo hops up too, the tent in his boxers being ever so prominent. You force yourself to tear away your lustful gaze on the sight and turn back to the car.

Wonwoo gives you a warning look. “You don’t want to?”

“N-no! I never said that,” you mumble, shoving the blanket into the back seat before slipping into the passenger seat. Wonwoo trails slowly behind you, getting into the spot next to you as he starts the engine.

He scoffs, backing into the road. “That’s what I thought.”

As soon as the door shuts behind you when you enter his apartment, Wonwoo is trapping your frame between him and the wall. Your back being pressed up against the wood has the air of your lungs forced out of you and into his mouth as he leans down for a fervent kiss. Whining, you wind your arms around his neck, pressing his lips even harder into yours.

Your tongues meet in a sloppy mess but somehow your uncoordinated movements mesh perfectly in a hot mix of saliva and desperation. This is what you’ve been waiting for, you think.

It’s hard not being able to touch him, kiss him, hold him whenever you want. It’s hard not being able to mark him as yours whenever you please. You know Wonwoo is yours, yes, but it’s hard to hold yourself back when you see him from the corner of your vision when you pick Kei up from school.

Desperate nights in the middle of the week where you stand in the shower, hot water running down your even hotter body, and shove a hand between your thighs as you try to mimic how Wonwoo’s fingers curl into you in all the right ways.

It never feels the same, never, but the mental image of Wonwoo when you’re between his legs, cock stuffed in your mouth, is enough to bring you to the edge. Only barely, of course, and the aftermath of your orgasm always has you leaning against the cool tile in shame and desire.

You couldn’t control yourself one night, calling Wonwoo up at the dangerously horny hour of 11 p.m., not really expecting him to pick up. When he did, you nearly jumped in ecstasy before the breath caught in your throat when he asked if everything’s okay in that sweet tone of his and—fuck—you’re really fucking desperate.

When you bashfully admitted that you were needy, that you were ‘thinkin’ ‘bout him,’ Wonwoo had asked you, ‘thinkin’ about what baby?’ to which you meekly confessed that you were in dire need to feel him, feel the stretch, feel his cock.

He chuckled, and that was your plunge into reality—realization that you fucking called Wonwoo when you were supposed to be asleep, nearly begging him to get you off some way, some how, confessing to him that he’s the only way you can have an orgasm that’s actually worthwhile. Realizing how insane you might have sounded, you almost hung up, but then there was Wonwoo talking and his voice was an octave lower and there were sparks flying through your body.

Wonwoo, all low and hoarse, was murmuring filthy words through the phone, demanded that you stick your pretty fingers in, and rub your clit like the good girl you are until his voice alone was throwing you off the edge. You spasmed around your fingers while Wonwoo worked you through on the other end, whispering praise and sweet nothings until epiphany hit and you started apologizing profusely to him for being needy.

That night, Wonwoo assured you that it was okay. That it was okay you were so needy you needed to beg him for his help to make you cum. That it was okay you couldn’t be patient for him like a good girl. Tonight, you aren’t sure how much of honesty was laced in those words, at least, not with the words he’s spilling into your ear now.

Pinning your hands above your head in a tight hold, Wonwoo mutters, “You’ve been wanting this, huh?”

“W-Wonwoo, fuck,” you gasp when he latches his mouth to your neck, sucking and biting until there are are deep red and purple marks that are bruising your skin. Swiping his tongue over the tinted skin, you feel every part of your body throbbing, aching under his touch.

“Thinkin’ about me in the night,” he continues, letting go of your hands so you can let them fall to his head, gripping tightly onto his hair. Wonwoo brings his own arms to your waist, hiking them up your shirt and looping them through your belt loops to yank down your shorts. You shuffle your feet out of the loose clothing, managing nothing more than a moan when he wedges a thigh between your legs.

The hard muscle flexes through the denim of his jeans, Wonwoo’s hands on your waist helping you grind your throbbing core down on him. “Wonwoo,” you choke out, grabbing aimlessly at his shirt, tugging, pulling—anything to get it out of the way. It’s the first time you two have done anything since your first date, and it’s been even longer since you’ve seen him shirtless, thinking back to your first fateful night together. You briefly ponder on how things have changed in only a matter of a few months since then, and the rush of it all has you feeling dizzy and your knees growing weak as you lazily rock your hips against Wonwoo’s thigh, watching him peel his shirt off.

You suck in a break when you catch sight of the valleys and mountains of his chest—the curves that hug him so well and the abs that trail below, causing your eyes to be directed at the filthy v-line which disappears under the waistband of his jeans. “Like what you see?” Wonwoo grins, grabbing your chin and pushing you into a kiss as he slips one hand under your shirt. You choose to help him out when you pull away, quickly pulling the shirt over your head, letting it fall to the ground.

“Of course I like what I see,” you say without a hint of shame, your words coming out in pants as you feel a low pleasure grow as Wonwoo starts to bounce his thigh slightly. You whine when he lets his thigh fall, feet hitting the ground as you swivel your body in hopes to chase the feeling, causing him to chuckle at you.

“Patience angel, you’ll get what you want soon enough,” he eases, pulling away from your body slightly.

You pout. “And how do you know what I want?” you retort, immediately regretting your bratty choice of words as Wonwoo narrows his eyes at you. He doesn’t say anything as he sinks to his knees in front of you, watching you give him a confused look.

Tapping on one of your thighs, you lift it slightly only for Wonwoo to grab it and throw it over his shoulder, the realization that his face is dangerously close to your cunt finally sinking in. “Huh…” he breaths out, bringing his lips close to your soiled panties. “You don’t want this then?” he murmurs, not breaking eye contact with you throughout.

“N-n-no, I do,” you say hurriedly, shifting your position slightly so that you can balance yourself better against the wall. Your other leg has its heel pressed into Wonwoo’s back, and if it’s hurting him, he doesn’t say a thing. All either of you can really focus on right now is the smell of your arousal intoxicating Wonwoo’s system, and the intense gaze of his eyes on yours.

“Good girl,” he mumbles, and you press your eyes tight because you feel you might cum at the sight alone.

“Wonwoo, fuck—ple—”

Wonwoo shuts you up real tight when he licks a hot stripe over your panties, and you cry out his name from the unexpected pleasure. Fingers flying down, you grip on his hair tight, causing him to groan into your clothed cunt.

“Easy, angel,” he warns, but you can tell he doesn’t really care. Not when he only rewards your behavior by sliding the soaked fabric aside, revealing your slick folds to the cool air around you. “Holy shit, you’re dripping,” Wonwoo mutters, and your ears burn at the comment.

“D-don’t stare,” you mutter out, breaking your eyes away from Wonwoo under you, the scene causing your entire body to heat up.

“Can’t help it. So pretty,” he tells you, bringing one hand up to rub against the folds. “Can’t believe this is all it takes to make you a mess…” “Wonwoo—”

He continues, “Just lettin’ you fuck yourself on my thigh for a minute and you’re already so ready for me…”

“Shit—”

Wonwoo looks up at you with dreamy eyes. “You deserve a reward, don’t you think?”

“God yes.”

Wonwoo smothers himself in your folds as soon as the words of confirmation leave your lips, and the rush is so strong you’re in awe at how you don’t fall. Tangling your fingers in his hair once more, you let yourself grind down onto his face as his tongue digs through your wetness, tasting—exploring.

He goes back and forth, taking a few moments to let his tongue run through your folds before moving his mouth up and wrapping his lips around your clit. He throws out some flicks of his tongue and then sucks hard, causing you to slam your hand over your mouth to prevent any one of his neighbors from hearing such ungodly sounds.

“Don’t do that,” Wonwoo growls, halting his work on you to glare up at you.

“Sorry,” you squeak out, letting your hand fall to your side as you chew on your lip at the sight of his lips and chin all glossy and wet from your wetness.“Angel,” he mumbles before diving back and bringing his own hand up to rub against your hole. He teases for a few moments before catching the way your voice wavers when you beg for more, deciding to plunge in two fingers at once. He’s knuckles deep from the get-go, giving you hardly a moment to adjust to the overwhelming amount of pleasure before he’s easing them in and out of your tight cunt.

Between the thrusts of his hand, he’s curling his fingers against your walls just as he did a few weeks ago in his car—it's been so long since then that if you weren’t so dizzy from pleasure, you’d be amazed at how he still remembers just what gets you to your orgasm embarrassingly fast.

“Wonwoo—fuck,” you moan when he sucks against your clit while finger fucking you mercilessly. “K-keep doing that—’m gonna cum—fuck, gonna cum!” you cry out in shock as you feel your belly tighten up when he’s hitting that one spot inside of you that has your knees buckling.

Wonwoo only hums against your clit but that’s enough—with the vibrations and his warm tongue and his fat fingers, you’re writhing against the wall as he rides you through the orgasm that you’ve been aching for for weeks.

Coming down from your much awaited high, Wonwoo slowly slips out his fingers out of you, and you finally notice the way your arousal not only coats his hand, but drips down into a filthing fucking mess all over his forearms. Slightly appalled with how dirty this all is, you lift your hands from his hair as he starts to stand up, bringing them to cover your face.

“What the fuck,” you murmur with a hoarse voice, only releasing your own cheeks when Wonwoo forcefully grabs your wrists and yanks them down.

“Stop,” he instructs, before cupping your cheeks himself and kissing you deeply so you can taste your wetness on his tongue. “That was hot,” he says casually as your eyes rake over his body, finally landing on the bulge that pressed against your stomach.

“Felt so good…” you praise, hands ghosting over the imprint of his cock over his jeans, drinking in the sight of his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. “Can I repay the favor?” Wonwoo watches you intently for a few moments and then shakes his head, causing a frown to make its way onto your face.

“Wanna fuck you,” he clarifies, and the crude choice of words has your cunt clenching and gushing once more. “So where do you want it…” Wonwoo asks before listing his offers, “bed, couch, counter…?”

Your vision trails over his apartment that you haven't ever really had the chance to look at properly at his place. You aren't really keen on doing any inspecting now though, especially now that an interesting thought comes to mind. “Can we…can we do it here?”

Wonwoo looks at you like he just fell in love at this moment, and in his head, he thinks he might have just done exactly that. “You're insane,” he grunts, unbuckling his belt and shoving his boxers and jeans down in one go. His cock springs free, and you can’t control the way you instantly grab out for him, fingers scooping out the leaked precum as it swipes over the tip. He curses lowly under his breath, grabbing one of your legs to hook it around his toned torso.

Wrapping your hands around his neck, you pull him down for a sweet kiss as he slides his fat cock through your folds as a way to lube himself up in your slick. “You’re insane,” you finally shoot back, lifting yourself on your tippy toes so it’s easier for Wonwoo to line himself up with your entrance.

He’s pausing with his tip barley inside you, reading your face. “You ready?” When you nod up at him with thick lashes, you certainly aren’t expecting him to pull you down onto him, and you’re even further shocked out how he pushes up into you simultaneously, his cock filling you up balls deep in one go.

“Wonwoo!” you cry out, head thrown back as it hits the wall. The pain on the crown of your head is dull, but the stretch you feel from your cunt overtakes anything else you might be able to feel in your body. Your thighs tremble as Wonwoo stills, his rough fingers rubbing gentle circles onto your waist and ass as peers down at you, allowing your pussy to relax around him.

He’s big. He’s big and his cock is fat and the tip is already kissing your cervix yet the pain is addicting and you want—you need more. “Wonwoo,” you repeat, looking up at him with big doe eyes that have his insides churning in fondness. “More…can you give me more…please?”

Wonwoo grips your waist tightly, and you can tell he’s holding back. “Angel—”

“You said you wanted to fuck me, Wonwoo, right?” you plead needily, weakly moving your hips towards his to chase the feeling on your own. He stops you, gripping your hips so tight there’ll probably be bruises the next morning.

“So needy,” he grunts, and you think he might just get irritated with you but then he’s pulling his hips back and before you know it, his cock is ramming back into you. Back arching off the wall, your jaw goes slack and you can’t even find the voice to say a thing.

Each time Wonwoo slams back into you after a painfully slow drag of his cock, he punctuates the slap of skin against skin with a deep, guttural groan and low mutters of your name and angel, whispering broken sentences about how good you feel and how you’re squeezin’ him so good.

Your body throttles against the wall with each snap of his hips, and if you were in your right mind, you honestly would have complained about the faint pain. The thing is though, that you aren’t in you’re right mind.

You aren’t thinking clearly, and it’s because Wonwoo has successfully fucked you dumb. So dumb you can’t think, can’t speak, can’t complain, can’t think anything but Wonwoo Wonwoo Wonwoo.

“God, making a mess on my dick, huh angel?” Wonwoo coos as his thrusts become more sporadic. You’re clenching him so incredibly thigh, warm and gummy walls hugging him so incredibly tight that he thinks it’s a miracle he hasn’t cum yet.

The only noise echoing through his apartment is the squelching of juices that mixes where his cock meets your cunt, skin slapping against skin, and soft pants for hair, until finally you’re tightening your hold around him, moaning, “Wonwoo fuck—I can’t—fuck—feels too good.”

“God, fuck, I can tell, you’re so fucking tight—squeezing me like a vise,” Wonwoo moans into your ear. “Finest fucking pussy, I swear,” and the words are so filthy yet so sweet that it has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, nails digging into his back.

“Wonwoo,” you intend to cry out, but the syllables fall just short of a whisper when he pulls you down and rams his cock up into you so hard it’s punching the air out of your lungs. Bringing his hand down, Wonwoo roughly rubs at your clit as he stills himself inside of you while rocking yourself against him, twitching at all the stimulation that’s being thrown your way.

You cum, and you just know that this has been the best orgasm of your life. Pleasure hits you like a truck and you’re left almost crying, your entire body shaking against Wonwoo’s who bites down on his bottom lip so hard it nearly draws blood.

Feeling you cum around him, your wetness coating his thighs and pelvis, as you whine out his name in your moment of heightened pleasure, intimacy, vulnerability has Wonwoo’s vision going foggy and heart growing in his chest. The second he senses your orgasm has finally withered away, he’s pulling out and fervently jerking himself off as you stand limply, the only thing holding you up being the force of Wonwoo’s body pinning you to the wall.

But now, you’re both exhausted and your leg around him loosens so you fall to your knees. Your face landing right in front of his pretty tip, and you focus your hazy vision on the full length of his cock. With your position from before, you couldn’t really look at it without craning your neck at an unnatural angel but now…

Now you can see his dick up close and in all its glory while simultaneously watching Wonwoo fall apart in front of you. Bringing up a hand to help him out, you wrap it around the base of his cock and massage his balls with the other hand as you lift yourself on your knees and open your mouth wide, not once breaking eye contact.

“You’re so beautiful,” Wonwoo grunts one last time with a few sloppy flicks of his wrist and then his eyes are shut tight, eyebrows pinched together as hot white ropes paint your face. Some lands on your tongue, some on your cheek, some on your chin, and you lap up what you can as you watch Wonwoo ride out his own orgasm with a few last pumps of his cock.

When he finally opens his eyes, he’s met with the sight of you running your tongue over your lower lip to scoop up his cum, and he feels he might get hard just again by watching you. Taking a deep breath, he steps back, holding out an arm for you. Reaching up, you’re taken aback by how frail you feel when he pulls you up and you stumble into his arms, an ache beginning to take its spot in your lower body.

“Are you okay?” Wonwoo finally speaks when he hears you let out a small gasp of pain. He’s walking slowly, leading you in his arms to a room which you now recall as his bedroom. Wonwoo pushes you backwards until the back of your knees hit the bed and you fall back, the tall man flopping on top of you.

“Mhm,” you finally respond, letting him roll over or lay beside you. “A little bit sore,” you add, and you hit his bicep when you hear him trying to muffle a laugh. “Is my pain funny to you,” you grumble.

Wonwoo shakes his head, turning to face you. “Of course not,” he tells you, but the smug smile on his face doesn’t match with his words. You narrow your eyes, and he continues, “Okay. Maybe it makes me a little happy.”

“My pain makes you happy?!”

“It just means my dick game is great!” You huff, turning away, and Wonwoo laughs, spooning you from behind before saying, “Okay I’m joking. Are you in a lot of pain?” He presses kisses into your shoulder, light and feathery as he awaits your response,

“Not a lot…” you murmur, scooting your body closer to his. “Feels kinda good…” you admit, and you damn near feel him smile into your skin at that comment.

“You sure? Anything you want me to do?” Wonwoo asks sincerely. Turning over to face him you purse your lips.

“Buy me cake before dropping me off?” you suggest, before thoughtfully adding, “and extra cuddles?”

Wonwoo grins, kissing you sweetly. “Cake and cuddles it is.”

Which is how you end up getting dropped off at your house two hours later with cupcakes in your hands for Jun and Kai. Helping Kai sit down at the table to serve him the dessert, you catch Jun giving you a funny look.

“Why’re you walking like that?”

Your face burns and you avert your gaze quickly and then Jun is laughing, picking up his phone and texting someone. “Who are you texting?” you demand, walking up to him in an attempt to grab his phone. He pulls it away quickly, dangling it above your head.

“No one,” he says in a sing-song voice.

“Liar.”

“It’s just Hao.”

“What’re you telling him?!” you nearly shriek before lowering your voice, looking back at Kei who is still happily eating his cupcake.

“I’m just telling him Wonwoo’s date went well! He was curious.”

“How’d he know?!”

“I told him, of course,” Jun deadpans. You roll your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Well did I lie?”

You glare at Jun before biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling. Because as much as you’d like to strangle Jun right now, he in fact, did not lie, and the way you giddily text Wonwoo, ‘i had fun,’ tonight when you go to bed is testament to that fact.

a/n: im sorry i had to rush the ending idk i am not super happy but .... :/ the next update might take just around the same amount of time because i have a lot going on right now, but i hope you all enjoyed what ive written so far :c please like and comment and reblog, they literally make me so happy! anyways, i hope you enjoyed and please have a nice day <3

1K notes · View notes

cozy-cinnamon-roll · 3 months

Text

A Princess' Guide to Interrogating a Radio Demon

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Ler!Charlie, Lee!Alastor (strictly platonic)

Content/Trigger Warnings: tickling, interrogation (in the most playful sense). If there are any trigger warnings you'd like me to add in the future (and/or to this fic), PLEASE let me know! I am always happy to oblige.

This is a ticklefic! If that's not your cup of tea, kindly move along.

This is my first fic for Hazbin Hotel, so any feedback would be welcomed and deeply appreciated! (also, let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future work - I'm quite sure this'll be FAR from my last fic for this fandom hehe)

Hope you enjoy!

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

Ever since he'd discovered glam metal, Angel has been blasting it nonstop from his room.

Unfortunately, his room happens to be directly beneath Alastor's... and the insulation in the hotel's walls leaves an awful lot to be desired. The Radio Demon's eye had been in a constant twitch for three days by the time he'd finally had enough.

"Alastor? Have you seen Angel's speakers?"

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

When Charlie appears in his doorway, the demon in question is sitting comfortably on his couch, sipping a mug of black coffee and reading a newspaper (though Charlie isn't sure how he acquired it - the local paper has been out of print for weeks).

"No. But I've certainly had the displeasure of hearing them."

"They've gone missing. Do you have any idea where they might be?"

"Far away, I hope."

Charlie rolls her eyes and leaves to go consult the other guests. The deer takes a long draw from his mug.

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

To Alastor's slight irritation, he only enjoys a few minutes of peace before the princess' voice echoes from the hall again.

"Oooh, Al...." Charlie sings.

"What is it, my dear?" the Radio Demon sings back absently.

"Nifty says she saw you with Angel's speakers yesterday."

"Did she?" He flips a page of his newspaper.

"Look, all I need to know is where you put them."

Long pause. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."

"Alastor."

"Whaaat?" Though his eyes haven't left the page, his grin has widened slightly. "You think I'm lying?"

"You're always lying. That's your thing."

"...Touché."

Charlie perches on the sofa beside him.

"Are you gonna tell me where it is or not?"

"Fine. I'll be completely honest with you."

She perks up.

"I would honestly die a second death before subjecting myself to one more note of that infernal garbage."

Alastor's eyes flick up from his paper for the briefest of seconds, just to watch the bubbly princess' face fall into a delightfully exasperated scowl.

"You can't steal someone's stuff just because it annoys you!"

"On the contrary. That's exactly what I did."

Charlie narrows her eyes. "Alastor. You tell me where Angel's speakers are or else."

Alastor chuckles in spite of himself - Charlie's attempts to be intimidating never fail to amuse him.

"What's so funny about that?"

"My dear, I say this with the utmost respect and admiration for your many talents: there's a reason I tend to be the one called upon to scare off demonic threats."

Charlie huffs and crosses her arms. "Just because you're creepier and... more sadistic than me, doesn't mean I don't have ways of making you talk."

"Oh?" Alastor arches a skeptical eyebrow at his paper.

"So you better watch your step, Mister."

"Hmm. You make a compelling case." He flips another page. "Maybe I should tell you where Angel's poor excuse for music is."

Charlie brightens. "Really?"

"No."

The princess deflates.

He's right, of course: even if Charlie figures out a way to make herself legitimately threatening to the Radio Demon... he's the fucking Radio Demon. She may be the Princess of Hell, but she doesn't want to have to rebuild the hotel from rubble all over again.

The two sit in impassive silence for a few minutes - Charlie glaring at Alastor, Alastor staring stubbornly at his paper - until she finally stifles a sigh and slouches against the cushions. He's enjoying this, she just knows it. Sitting there with that stupid grin. He's probably been laughing to himself all night, imagining poor Angel waking up and finding his most prized possession missing.

She finds herself wishing she could make the old deer laugh himself sick sometime, just to teach him a lesson.

...Which is a horrible thought! Charlie's eyes widen, her brow furrowing in self-disgust. She could never bring herself to hurt Alastor, even via laughter.

In fact, she quite likes his laugh - it's a little maniacal, sure, and certainly hard to truly enjoy amid the gory contexts that typically trigger it. But if she knew a way to make him laugh at something other than another person's expense, she'd probably do it all the time... it's just that the things that make him laugh also tend to make Charlie nauseous.

Once again, the princess finds herself completely baffled by her own subjects. How one could be so tickled by anything that goes on down here - the pain, the violence, the gore...

Charlie tilts her head. She may have just gotten an idea.

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

If Alastor had happened to cast a quick glance down the couch, the smile creeping across Charlie's face would've been enough to give him real pause.

But since he is instead stubbornly focused on his paper, he is completely unprepared for the fingers that suddenly begin crawling oh-so-gently up his side.

To her initial disappointment, Charlie finds at least three layers of fabric dampening her touch, and aside from a subtle flinch at first contact, Alastor himself remains perfectly still.

But then a low buzz of radio static swells around them. As she probes up his ribs, she can hear a soft crinkle of paper as his grip tightens.

"Charlie..." His voice is oddly clipped.

"Mm?" Charlie takes one glance at his face, and her smile deepens - even Alastor's signature grin can't mask the effect. He's still technically staring at the paper, but his eyes have gone wide and blank. He opens his mouth to continue just as her fingers reach his armpit - and his jaw quickly clamps shut. It's clearly taking everything in him not to squirm.

"Got something to say, Al?" She starts pinching back down his ribcage.

"Mmph!" The giggles start in his chest, bubbling up and fighting to escape through clenched teeth. Soon his shoulders are shaking with the effort of holding them in.

"...Maybe about the location of a certain object?"

No response. The radio demon just curls forward a little, hiding his face in his paper.

Taking advantage of this new posture, Charlie slips her other arm around behind him, and gives a good pinch to both sides of his slender waist.

The demon straightens right back up with an audible gasp and tiny squeak of surprise (that he quickly tries to cover with a cough).

"Charlie! Are you s-seriously trying to-"

"Are you seriously ticklish?"

"No!"

In response she delivers another series of pinches to the same spot. His posture crumples again, until finally he loses his grip on his paper and twists to face her.

"No?" she giggles. And squeezes him again.

"Stop that!" He fumbles at her fingers, trying to pry them off his sides.

Instead Charlie swaps her hands, wrapping her fingers around his waist with both thumbs resting lightly on his stomach... and begins digging them right under his lower ribs.

That finally does it. He flinches back with a little snort, followed by soft but utterly helpless giggles pressed shyly into his hands.

"Awww!" Charlie coos.

"Keheh- f-fuckin'- heheh! - quiet!" His voice cracks amusingly on the last word.

There are about fifteen different things Charlie is dying to say as Alastor goes to pieces with laughter, but she can't think of anything that wouldn't risk embarrassing the poor guy - and humiliating him is the last thing she wants to do. The fact that Alastor hasn't instantly dissolved into shadows (or cursed her across the room) hasn't been lost on the princess; she is NOT about to jeopardize this moment by making him uncomfortable enough to do so.

That said, she is conducting an interrogation here.

"What was that about not being ticklish?"

His clutching at her wrists becomes more frantic. "Don't-!"

Alastor hyperventilates a couple times, trying to get ahold of himself - but then she continues squeezing down the sides of his belly, and he can only collapse into even worse laughter.

"I think I know just how to get you to talk..."

"Nohoho- ahagh, Charlie! Shihihit!"

Charlie shifts onto her knees for better leverage, gives him a gentle push backward, and pins him (surprisingly easily) against the couch. Her snaggle-toothed grin looms over him...

For a split-second, Alastor gets a flash of what his victims must've seen moments before they debuted on his show.

But he's pretty sure this isn't quite how they felt about it. He's already shaking with anticipatory giggles, grinning back at her wider than ever. And the giddy panic behind his eyes quickly forms an unlikely union with defiance.

"Do your worst, my dear."

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

To be continued... pt. II is already in the works, so stay tuned!!

Until next time - hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! 💕

💜 - Cozy

#lee!alastor #ticklish!alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel tickles #oh deer he's ticklish #ler!charlie #hazbin hotel tickling #ticklefic #tickle fic #tickle headcanons #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel spoilers

362 notes · View notes

b-o-e · 1 year

Text

late night confessions Wally Darling x Reader

Warnings: confessions!!! the L word!!! AHHH!!! a bit of julie slander ahbha! reposted cause tags weren’t and still aren’t working, on the one I was most excited for :’)

although it is not necessary, I highly suggest reading my fics in their recommended order for the best experience! here is the link to all my silly lil wally fics in order. this is #5 :)

The phone ringing late at night allows opportunity to come knocking.

“Hello?”

Who was it calling him at this time of night? Isn’t everyone usually asleep by now? Was something wrong?

“Hi,”

Your voice emitted softly through Wally’s phone.

… Oh?

“... Are you alright?” Wally quizzed, holding his handset between his shoulder and ear. He picked up the base of it, twisting his torso to get a glimpse at the clock. “It’s late,” he mumbled, grasping the phone back in his hand.

“I’m sorry,”

“I don’t mind in the slightest,” he soothed your worries. You went quiet, but Wally gave you the time. He didn’t mind waiting for you. A few moments later, you spoke again.

“... I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted.

“Ha ha, I think I know how that feels,” Wally jested, earning a giggle from you. The corners of his lips subconsciously tugged upwards a little more at the pleasant sound.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be one to speak, huh? That was insensitive,” you chuckled, apologizing.

“I don’t mind, I’m quite used to it.” He reassured, “What keeps you up though, neighbour?”

Silence fell, until there was a bit of shuffling from your side of the line.

“I’m not entirely sure,” you sighed, seeming distressed. “I just… maybe my brain is being too loud, tonight.”

“Is there something on your mind you’d like to speak about?” Wally took a seat on his arm chair, left leg crossing over top of the right. The phone base rested on his knee, now, his free hand toying with the line.

“I…” your voice trailed off, “I’m not sure, honestly,” you grumbled. “I think…”

“I think I just wanted to hear your voice,”

Wally gaped, eyes widening.

His voice?

He was flattered to hear that. Especially coming from you.

“Wally?”

You chuckled softly, “sorry, that was probably a strange thing to say, wasn’t it?”

“Not at all,” he spoke quickly. “I’m honoured to hear you say that, neighbour,”

“Okay,” you murmured.

It went quiet again. Wally picked at a loose thread on the arm of the chair, trying to figure out what to say next.

“Would you mind…”

He paused his movements. Seems you beat him to it. He waited patiently for you to finish your sentence.

“Would you mind, just… talking?” You requested shyly.

His smile grew a little wider. You’d called him, just to hear his voice? His belly twisted with glee.

“Hmm…”

Wally thought for a minute, wracking his brain for anything interesting. “Would you like me to talk about anything in particular?”

“Anything,”

“Anything…” Wally repeated, humming. His thoughts drifted back to what Eddie and Frank had told him the other day…

“Simply and utterly, I’ve run out of ways for you to drop hints,” Frank admitted, rubbing his temples.

“Me too, if I’m being honest,” Eddie chuckled, “I think you’re just at the point where you need to say it, in the way that is the most natural and the most… you,”

“‘The most me’?” Wally reiterated, “how so?”

“Hmm… give them a call, perhaps?” Frank pitched, “That’s very you,”

“Yeah, it’s like how my staple is letters, yours is sorta calls,” Eddie agreed.

“No interruptions this time, too, that’s a guarantee” Frank uttered with a huff, reflecting back on their last plan. Darn Julie…

“Give them a call…” Wally hummed in thought, twiddling his thumbs. “I suppose that could work,”

“But,” Frank raised a finger, “you cannot simply call them and say it out flat. Timing is important!”

“Oh. How will I know when the right time is?”

Frank faltered. “Huh. How do you know when the right time is?” He turned to Eddie.

“Err… I don’t know? I mean, you just feel it, I guess,” he shrugged, hands raised defensively. “That's all I can think of. It just came to me, personally. I just… knew,”

Wally pursed his lips in thought.

Was this that time?

Nerves tangled inside of him like the phone cord around his fingers.

It felt like it…

He sucked in a deep breath, slowly releasing to calm himself down.

“Can I… confess, something to you, neighbour?”

“Of course you can, Wally. I’m always here if you need me,”

“... Do you promise?” He murmured softly.

“Cross my heart, always and forever…” you recalled words he’d once said to you. He found his smile twitching upwards a little more, cheeks warming.

“Well,” Wally stood up out his chair, slowly walking to the window. “I have… a secret. One that I’ve been keeping from you, that’s about you. One that I've found to cause me some distress,” he admitted.

“I hope I haven’t done anything wrong,” you fret, your concern clear in your voice.

“No, no, you’ve done nothing wrong at all,” Wally clarified, smiling to himself. Of course that’s where your head went.

“Thank goodness, I was terrified,” you chuckled with relief.

Wally hesitated. How was he meant to do this?

“Sorry, neighbour,” he apologized, realizing he had not said anything for a while. “I’m struggling to find the right words to say it to you,” he sighed.

“Take your time, Wally.” you comforted, “There’s no rush. I’ll be ready when you are,”

Wally sucked in another deep breath. This was why, he realized, why he felt the way he did about you. Your consideration, your empathy, your patience… everything.

Slowly, he exhaled, letting his eyes fall shut as his body relaxed.

“Your eyes…” He murmured. By instinct, the image of you popped up in his head.

“They rob the words off of my tongue,”

He heard the hitch of your breath.

“My heart,” He continued, “it sings with euphoria every second you are near,” he pushed out a light, shaky chuckle. “Ha ha… we may as well call it yours, with how full of you it is,”

His eyes drifted to the wall, examining one of his favourite art pieces in his possession.

“It’s no secret how I enjoy indulging in art quite frequently, and yet, you manage to be the most extravagant masterpiece I’ve come across,” he murmured, voice holding nothing but sincerity, among something else.

“You’re unfathomably endearing. I crave more of you every time we part… that night we spent time together under the stars?” He stared out the window, into the night, reminiscing back a few weeks to a time he had nearly confessed, only for it to have been ruined by Julie interrupting them.

“There were so many things I wanted to say to you then. I wanted to tell you that if you asked me to, I’d figure out a way to give you the moon. That, despite the sky full of them above us, you shine brighter than any star up there in my eyes,”

“And here I am, after all this time, still dancing around the point that I’m trying to get across, ha ha,” Wally’s eyes wandered to his desk, gazing among the disregarded letters laid upon it. Spit it out already, he thought. He’d taken long enough already.

“The truth is, my darling,” he murmured, soft and sweet, squeezing his eyes shut.

“I’m in lo–”

Click!

His heart skipped a beat, eyes shooting back open.

…

The line went dead.

…

“Oh.”

His heart plunged into his stomach. His legs refused to move.

His arm slowly dropped to his side, fingers still tangled in the coiled cord.

…

He’d been rejected, hadn’t he?

…

What now?

Well, he hadn’t exactly thought this far ahead.

When he had, it wasn’t with an ending like this.

What did he miss?

Despite Eddie and Frank’s assurance that you were returning signs of attraction towards him, he always had a twinge of insecurity in his mind. Maybe he should’ve paid more mind to it.

Had he been too forward? Moved too fast?

It hurt.

His chest felt tight. His free hand raised, clutching onto the front of his shirt.

It hurt badly.

His body was tingly, and his eyes were beginning to sting. He brushed his fingers against his cheek, meeting with the wetness on them.

“Oh...” He repeated, voice breaking as he slid his back down the wall as his legs gave, sinking to the ground.

So you hadn't felt the same, after all.

AVHAGHGSHA hi :)

I hope you enjoyed! expect the unexpected! there is still more to come for this though, please don't hate me too much abahaha! if you haven't read the other fics but are interested, here they are, in their recommended order!

here is a link to my silly lil wally fics in their recommended order if you would like :) these can also be found on my ao3 B) I also have a ko-fi if you'd like to support me!

thank you for reading! likes and reblogs are very appreciated (especially cause my tags decided not to work today gsdfhdd) and are my main source of dopamine abhsabba B) UNTIL NEXT TIME!!!

Posted Tuesday, May 2, 2023, at 10:46 AM

#wally darling x reader #wally darling #welcome home x reader #welcome home #wally x reader

986 notes · View notes

jake-g-lockley · 1 year

Note

hi! i saw joel miller but only if i ask nicely so pretty pretty please joel miller and prompt #19

Falling Into Place (Joel Miller x reader)

Masterlist | Wanna be tagged?

Prompt: ARGUING!!! Then a heated “kiss me.” and suddenly their hands are all over each other.

A/N: Hey there nonnie! Thank you so much for the ask! I’m so sorry this took so long ahahah, I was a little stuck with Joel ngl. I hope you don’t mind me changing the prompt a little bit cuz I’ve written this prompt too many times hahahah. Anyway, here’s sweet and soft Joel, enough to warm your heart and brain. (Also a little thank you to @lil-stark and @campingwiththecharmings for aiding in my quest for fluffy goodness).

Warnings: MDNI, smut, very public sex, fingering, unprotected p in v, biting and marking, Joel is a lil thief, alcohol is involved, pre-outbreak.

Word Count: 3.9 k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You don’t really know how you became friends with Joel Miller.

It feels a little out of place whenever you hang out with the tall, dark and handsome man and you can’t help but feel like he’d much rather chat with his buddies over some beer.

You had asked him to help you out when you moved into the neighbourhood, and he used his carpentry skills to build you a new shelf that you had designed. You babysitting (or teenage sitting) Sarah certainly drew the both of you closer and Joel found it absolutely endearing when Sarah wanted to spend more time with you. You found yourself keening towards his senses of humour and sarcasm, your heart warming at the way he treated his daughter.

Joel Miller was most definitely your type, his brown curls and matured face made you feel things that you wanted to thoroughly forget. You knew he had a heart of gold and a smile to match, but it only made you fall into a deeper hole, one that you knew was going to take forever to dig yourself out of. So you kept it strictly platonic with Joel, building a friendship like no other with him, stuffing all of your feelings for him in a bag and throwing it into your box of problems you want to put away.

In your horrible efforts to stuff your feelings for Joel away, you didn’t notice how head over heels in love with you he was. Joel looked at you as if you brought the sun with you wherever you went, his entire demeanour changing whenever you were around. Sarah, the ever attentive daughter sat and watched as her father failed at trying to convey his feelings.

The first time she pointed it out, Joel got defensive.

“Come on, you’d have to be blind if you think we all don’t notice!” Sarah sighed as her father furiously shook his head.

“Who’s ‘we all’ ?” Joel grumbled, his eyes shifting to his brother who at that second decided that it would be a great time to go for a drive.

After a while of denying, Joel caved hard and decided to ask Sarah for help. He was afraid. The last thing he wanted was to lose a woman like you.

“You’re already doing everything right, Dad. You now just have to find out whether he feels the same.” Sarah said over dinner one day.

For weeks he had been trying to figure out what to do, until one day when you and he went to pick Sarah from school.

“Dad, I need you to sign the consent form for the camping trip.” Sarah said before Joel could even pull out of the parking lot.

“Oh! A camping trip! You’re gonna have so much fun, Sarah.”you piped up before Joel even thought of digressing.

“Do you like camping?” Sarah asked, resting her arms on the seats in front of her, her curly hair brushing your temple.

“Hmm, I’m more of a picnic girl, you know, food in the sunshine with a soft fluffy blanket under you.” You say nonchalantly and Sarah smiled.

A thought crossed her mind and she looked into the rear view mirror, only to see her father staring at her, wide-eyed. Sometimes Sarah wondered whether her dad knew what she was thinking, but this moment just confirmed that the two of them shared the same brain cell. Her smile widened and Joel shook his head slightly, trying not to draw your attention.

Sarah sat back into the back seat, her arms folded as she contained her excitement. All she had to do now is to convince Joel to let her do the planning.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Joel took a deep breath as he loaded the last of the things into his truck, covering them with an inconspicuous tarp so that you wouldn’t guess what he was up to. He smoothed down the clothes Sarah had picked out for him and started for your front door. His nerves were already on edge. He knew that you would come with him, but it was more the matter of whether you liked what he and Sarah had planned for you.

Sarah gave him some last minute tips before leaving for camp the day before. She threatened him that he wouldn’t see the light if he didn’t open his mouth and confessed to you over the picnic.

“You are coming back with a girlfriend, old man. If not, you are not coming back at all.” she had huffed, folding the blanket that she picked out for him.

His hand shook slightly as he raised it to ring the doorbell, waiting with baited breath until he heard your footsteps. You swung the door open and beamed at him, the morning fog and the dim lighting kickstarting Joel’s worn out heart as he stares at you. Your hair was in a bird’s nest style and you brought your hands to the top of your head to attempt to tame it. Joel started to dissociate, wondering whether he could experience this hairstyle first hand every morning.

“Joel?” Your voice brought him back from his little daydream and he smiled softly at you.

“Meet me at my place in about 20 minutes, I’m taking you somewhere. Wear something comfortable.” He blurted out before his nervousness took over and spoiled everything.

You stared at the man before you. He looked different, cuter. His dressing style was slightly different, and you wondered what the occasion was. He was wearing a white t-shirt with his jeans but he had a navy blue button down shirt that he used as a jacket and you couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked.

You nodded and closed the door, running for your room as soon as you heard him descending the patio. You were there in 15 minutes, the fastest you’d ever gotten ready. Joel opened the door as soon as you knocked, only to be absolutely blown away from the dress you were wearing. You had chosen your favourite simple white sundress with puffed sleeves and accessorised with a pretty navy blue bow in your hair. Your burgundy lipstick topped everything off and Joel was in absolute awe, making you look up at him curiously.

It wasn’t the inconspicuous tarp in the back of his truck that made you think Joel Miller was going to kidnap you and kill you, it was when he handed you a blindfold and a pair of headphones.

“Please, I know this is weird but you have to trust me.” He pleaded, his brown eyes big.

Those eyes were going to get you killed one day. You gave in and put it on. Joel drove for a few minutes and then he stopped, tapping your hand reassuringly. You decided to trust him, he had nothing but purity in his eyes when he looked at you. Besides what was the worst that could happen?

Joel’s hand wrapped around your wrist after a while, startling you. He gently removed the headphones and took your hand in his.

“Alright, it’s ready, I’m going to walk you out of the truck, ‘kay?” He whispered and you nodded.

You followed him as he pulled you out, your heels settling on what seemed like grass. He walked you a distance away from the car and when he stopped, he gently tugged at the blindfold, letting it fall and revealing his surprise. As your eyes adjust to the light, you’re absolutely stunned. Before you lay a large blanket with pillows and a large picnic basket. Food, fruits and alcohol poked out of the basket and the scenery was absolutely delightful.

You turned to Joel in shock and he was chewing his bottom lip in anticipation for your reaction. He looked so beautiful like this, the green grass giving him a perfect backdrop.

“Shit Joel! This is beautiful!” You squealed, stumbling towards him for a hug.

Joel was smiling so hard that he didn’t realise that you were hugging him. He found himself melting into your soft grasp, soaking up the way you held him. He took hold of your hand and guided you onto the blanket, watching as you sat down and tucked the hem of your dress under your legs. He followed suit and began to dish out food and wine for you. The both of you talked and drank, totally oblivious to the rest of the world as the sun rose higher and higher into the sky.

The both of you were considerably tipsy as the wine from the wine bottles evaporated quickly. Joel was fully laying down, a glass of wine balancing on his wide chest. You glanced at the hot Texan sun and reached into your bag, pulling out your bottle of sunscreen to reapply. You were lathering the product all over your arms when you noticed Joel was looking at you, his nose scrunched up and lips pursed as if he were going to say something.

“What? Want some?” you ask, holding out the bottle.

“Pft sunscreen? Please, I'm a man.” Joel scoffed, downing the rest of his wine and setting the glass side.

You raised your eyebrow at him as if he said something absolutely ridiculous.

“Well the sun is non discriminatory and it doesn’t care what gender you are, it still will give you skin cancer!” you say, wiggling the bottle over his face.

Joel rolled his eyes and you decided to take matters into your own hands. You put a blob of sunscreen on your finger and try to swipe it on his face, only to have Joel dodge you. He grabbed your hands with a laugh and tried to take the bottle away from you but when he did, he stumbled and pushed you down, landing on top of you and pinning you down. He snatches the bottle of sunscreen with a grin but your determination got the best of you.

In your sundress, you flip Joel over and he lands on his back with a thud and a light groan. His eyes widened as you sat properly on his chest, pinning his arms down with your legs. Joel felt something steer in him as he gulped and suddenly he didn’t care about the sunscreen, not even the smug look on your face as you began to put the sunscreen on his face. He watched as you slowly let go of his arms, raising his arms to rub sunscreen on them and once he felt like your guard was let down, he decided to strike.

You then found yourself staring up at Joel, your hair splayed everywhere and your breathing quickening. Joel was on his knees, bracketing your body, his hands on either side of your head.

“You're gonna pay for that, sweetheart.” Joel huffed.

“A little sunscreen hurting the big bad man? Boo hoo dummy!” You say, despite how fast your heart was racing at the term of endearment leaving his lips.

“You're the one who's scared of the sun!!”

“You clearly don’t read, Joel Miller!”

“Right as if you can read anything, pretty girl.”

“I CAN DUMBASS”

“YEA RIGHT, SO READ THIS!”

Before you could register what Joel meant, he dives down and his lips are suddenly connected with yours, effectively silencing you. He kisses you hard, his hand cupping your cheek as you arched your back so that your chest pressed against his, kissing him back with equal fervour. He pulled back after a few seconds, and his lips were as red as his pretty cheeks, tainted with your burgundy lipstick.

You huffed out a few puffs of breath before saying the only thing that came to your drunk-addled mind.

“I thought manly men hated girly girl things. Why the hell are you wearing my lipstick then?”

Joel was taken aback by your reaction, clearly not expecting how nonchalant you were. You reached up and touched his lips, swiping the plump pout and showing him the transfer with a grin. Joel smiled but suddenly a wave of insecurity rushed over him, evident on his face.

“What’s wrong, Joel.” you say quickly, wondering if your little joke rubbed him wrong.

“Are we doing this because we're drunk?” he whispered, peering down at you.

The panic instantly faded from your body, replaced with quaint relief.

“Joel, you big dummy, I’ve been wanting to kiss you since forever. I promise that I’d do it again and again as sober as a judge.” Your words brought a relieved grin on Joel’s face.

You slid your hands to his chest and gently pushed him off you, patting the space beside you.

“Lay down, let me show you.” you whisper.

He obeys, guiding you as you straddle his body once again. You frame his face with your hands, gently carding your fingers through his curls, twisting them slightly, enjoying how his eyes flutter slightly.

“Here’s that brilliant brain of yours, bringing my ideas to life.” You whispered, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“These beautiful lines hold so many memories and I hope to make more with you.” you kiss the crows feet at the edges of his eyes.

“I’ve always wanted to pinch your cheeks, so full of life.” you kissed his bouncy cheeks before pinching them gently.

“Your adorable ears, the ones that listen to me ramble without fail.” you kiss both of his ears and Joel melts further into the blanket below him.

“Your chocolate eyes, better than any delectable treat I can dream of.” you left feathery kisses on his eyelids.

“Your amazing lips, carrying your beautiful smile and your even more beautiful words.” you kiss his chin and his lips.

Then you slowly traced his nose with the palm of your hand, your fingers tickled by his eyelashes on either side. You bend down and gently kiss the tip of his nose, before nipping it slightly with your teeth, giggling. You pulled away to see the radiant smile on Joel’s face, which had lighted up like a firework.

“Wait, what about my nose?” he whispered, and you couldn��t help but blush and grin shyly.

“You’ll find out later.” you whispered back and Joel felt a rush like no other as his cheeks heated up too.

Joel brings his head up and kisses you, pushing you and turning slightly, so that the both of you are on your sides. His hands gripped at your hips hard before coiling around your waist and pulling you ever so close, crushing every bone that existed in your body. You whine into the kiss, your arm looped itself around his neck and your free hand combs up his soft curls for purchase.

Joel surprises you by biting your bottom lip and tugging it slightly, pulling a gut wrenching moan from you. Joel went back to kissing you, licking into your mouth as he desperately felt the urge to hear that sound again. He pushes you down fully and breaks the kiss, kissing your chin before planting kisses as soft as cotton onto your neck.

You arched your back again and Joel took his chance to attack. He started his assault on your neck, kissing, biting and sucking in a pattern that had you writhing against him, grinding his hips down to meet yours. His hands couldn’t seem to let go of you, as if he was absolutely hopeless without the feeling of you. Your hands bunched up the back of his navy shirt, crumpling the material as you fisted it hard. The sounds that escaped your lips made Joel growl against your neck, at the same time where the bulge at his jeans caught your heated core, which made you gasp. Joel pulls away at the sound of your gasp and you look up at him with wide eyes. You had the words at the tip of your tongue but you had difficulty conveying it with how you were breathing.

Joel looked down your body, to where your dress had hiked up, exposing a lovely lacey thing that covered you. The strain at his jeans grew more tight and his heart and mind raced.

“Joel, I need it. I need you, please, baby. Give me whatever you have.” you whisper, clutching at your chest.

“Fuck, sweetheart, let me take care of you.” He groans, shifting you slightly so that his body shielded you.

He pulled your dress up a little more before sliding his hands down your body, taking in the curve of your figure and the plush of your skin. He cupped his hand at your mound and you whined, bucking your hips up to meet his hand as his other hand snapped the band of your panties at your hip bone.

“Shh, baby, relax.” He whispered before lifting your hips and pulling your panties down before stuffing them into his back pocket.

You keened as the outdoor air hit your already soaking pussy. Joel dipped his finger in your folds, absolutely mesmerised by how wet you were already.

“Good lord, you’re already dripping and I haven’t even properly had my way with you.” He pushes one finger through and you swear you almost lost consciousness with how you let the air escape your lungs.

“Joel, please.” You needed something else or else you were going to lose it like a mad woman.

“Patience, pretty girl. I need to stretch you open first, don’t know if it's gonna fit in your perfect pussy.” Joel purrs as he inserts another finger and pumps them in and out, your slick making it easy.

You bit down hard on your bottom lip, breathing hard and Joel immediately chastised you.

“Nuh uh, sweetheart I need to hear you, let go of that lip, that's right.” his Southern drawl makes your mouth drop open and the symphony of noise starts again.

He hooks his fingers and hits that perfect spot, arousal bubbling hard at your abdomen as your back arches off the blanket and your chest puffs out. You were absolutely turned on by the situation, having your first with Joel out in broad daylight. One of your tits jiggle out of the confines of your low cut dress, making Joel grin down at you, letting his free hand slide and capture it, squeezing down at the pressure in which he hits your g-spot again.

“So fucking beautiful, wanted you for so long, angel.” He moans, pulling his fingers out and slipping them into his mouth as your hands undo his belt and his jeans.

Your eyes stayed on his as he sucked your arousal off his fingers. He spit onto his hand before taking over and pulling his cock out of boxers. You gaped at the size of him and realised that he wasn’t just bragging when he said that it’d be a tight fit. He fisted his hardened member a few times, tipping his head back as he squeezed the tip a little.

“Baby, I don’t have a condom.” He says and you swear your whole demeanour lights up.

You realised that he truly didn’t intend for this to happen and he wanted you to enjoy your picnic. He certainly wasn’t complaining now with how hard his cock is and you weren’t either as your pussy clenched around nothing.

“That’s ok, I want to feel you. Only if you’re okay with it.” You tell him shyly and Joel swore that Christmas had come early for him.

He nodded silently and he braced himself with his arm as he pushed himself against your entrance, running his cock up and down your slit, catching your clit a few times.

“Inside, Joel, want you to fill me up, with your cock, your cum, your everything.” You slurred slightly the arousal making you stupid and all you could think of was getting your fix from the handsome man above you.

Joel slips inside you with a groan and you hiss at the burn. You’ve never had someone so big and your eyes teared at the stretch. Joel, as attentive as ever, stopped in his tracks, his eyes searching yours. He was terrified, terrified of hurting you as he speared you hard.

“It's ok Joel, it’ll be ok, move baby.” You smoothed your hand up and down his arm and he obliged.

Your movements stopped and you were now gripping hard at his biceps as Joel slowly bottoms out, grinding as his pubic hair tickled your clit. You were absolutely dizzy with delight, your head lolling as you smiled up at Joel.

“Not gonna last, your pussy’s so tight.” He breaths.

“We come together, baby.” You urged as the sting dissipates and the pleasure waves started coming in.

At first Joel had control, the slow drag of his cock creating the most beautiful feeling in you. You felt so close like this, with him in you, your pleasure morphing into the feelings that you had pushed away, making you realise that you actually love this man.

It was when Joel’s thumb found your clit when all hell broke loose. He started pistoning his hips, his free hand finding your wrists and pinning them over your head. You pulled your wrist out of his grasp as he fucked into you faster before lacing your fingers with his.

“Ungh, Joel, just like that, ungh, fuck me, fuck me, fuck, ungh.” You babbled as your grip tightened.

Joel could almost cry at how beautifully you were taking him, your whole body shaking as your moans echoed with his grunts in the empty valley. His thrusts were on the cusp of being sloppy as he felt his pleasure catch up with him. His thumb at your clit was a little too much and the bubbling pleasure boiled over as drool seeped from your mouth.

Joel licked your saliva and kissed you hard as you came undone, breaking it off to see your face contort as you came hard, your arousal gushing around his cock. Just at the sight of you cumming, Joel’s pleasure got the best of him and he thrusted hard, pumping a generous load of cum deep inside of you as you milked him with how your pussy was still clenching hard.

“Fuck, I love you! Pretty, pretty sweetheart, all mine.” Joel babbled too and the words hit you like a truck, prolonging your orgasm.

Joel slumped against you, kissing your neck softly as the both of you basked in the sun and the glow of the mind altering sex.

“I can’t believe you kissed me.” You say out loud and Joel brings his face out of your neck, an exasperated look adorning his handsome features.

“You’re telling me that I stuffed you full of my cum, told you I love you and you’re still thinking about the kiss, darling?” He huffed and your face blazed at his dirty mouth.

“T’was a good kiss.” You mumbled as Joel laughed and grabbed a few napkins before gently pulling out.

“I love you too, by the way.” You say and Joel’s cheeks flushed pink.

He bent down and kissed your forehead, nose and lips before cleaning you up.

“Why don’t I clean you up and we can go home and I’ll show you how good I kiss you and how much I love you. Maybe I can put my nose to use this time.” He winked at you as he pulled your dress back into place, casually forgetting to return your panties.

Your face heated up as he gathered you in his arms and walked you to his truck, finally feeling like you had found your true home.

Tagging: @wolfbook87 @bodhisattva11 @nyotamalfoy @whatsliferightnow @minigirl87 @alexxavicry @marygraceee @bloodredwolfsbane @euphoricosmo @violet-19999 @celiaswife @kierramofficial @ryebreadsworld @your-voice-is-mellifluous @lil-stark @absolutelybloodyhopeless @mintpurplemnm @bubblezuku @cookielovesbook-akie @mandoloriancookie @magic-schoolbusdropout @anony-muse @anonymously35 @nerdreader

589 notes · View notes

bless-my-demons · 9 months

Text

Redamancy: Chapter Eleven

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: Cannon typical violence

Notes: A few days late, so thank you for waiting! I had a rough weekend, but I couldn’t not put something out for you wonderful people that have shown me so much love for this story.

Word Count: 1491

Series Masterlist

• March 16th, 2005 • Bella’s Ballet Studio •

Reader

I swear, Isabella Swan sure knows how to talk me into some seriously stupid plans. Okay, so maybe she didn’t really talk me into joining her, but I couldn’t exactly let her go face a bloodthirsty vampire on her own. Two humans against one vampire, not much by the way of odds considering we have no means for being any kind of physical challenge.

We managed to slip past Alice and Jasper while they were in the lobby checking out. After getting a phone call from Edward that the nomads figured out the rouse, both he and Jasper decided to get us far away… whatever that means long-term.

“So… you got a plan?” I ask her once we exit the taxi.

Jasper is going to murder me for managing to run away from him undetected and throwing myself head first into danger.

“I hadn’t really thought that far, he’s got my mom Y/n.” She pauses a few seconds before turning to enter the ballet studio she attended as a kid and I follow.

It’s silent in the building until we enter the main studio room lined with mirrors.

“Bella! Bella? Bella-where are you?” I hear her mom call out.

“Mom?” Bella begins running in the direction of her voice with me hot on her heels, “Mom?” She asks again as she whips open the doors to a closet in the back of the room.

Only it’s empty. Except for a tv. Playing an old home-movie of Bella as a child.

“That’s my favorite part,” the nomad James taunts Bella as he stalks toward us, “You were a stubborn child, weren’t you?”

Renee isn’t here, never was.

Terror, absolute terror shocks through me. It’s a trap and we walked straight into it without even questioning it. Jasper and Alice don’t even know where we are, I can only hope they’ve even figured out we’re gone by now.

I turn to run to the doors we just entered through, if I could just get outside and call-

But James is there in a flash, hand fisted around my throat. “Leaving so soon? The party hasn’t started yet.” He throws me against a wall as he stalks forward to Isabella, “Have a seat, you won’t want to miss this.”

I continue to flash in and out of consciousness as he plays with the both of us, taunting Edward and Jasper in his twisted video. Breaking Bella’s leg, a blow to my side to keep me from running again, the pain was all-encompassing.

And my only thought was, I hope they find us in time.

“Darlin’, can you open your eyes for me?” Frantic words and cold fingers ghost over my skin.

I manage to crack one blurry eye open, “Jasper?” I croak out slightly confused. How long have I been out? Am I still in the studio?

“Carlisle!” Is the Jasper Hale panicking? I crack a smile on my busted lips and it earns me a line of questioning.

“What’s so funny, doll? Hmm?” Chilly hands continue to inspect my broken body, I can see his wide eyes flicking over my injuries. Not hunger - no, concern.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you panic, Hale.” I say calmly, at odds with the chaos stirring around us.

“Well, I’ve never seen you… like this. Because of me.” He won’t meet my gaze.

“Not because of you,” cough “I made the decision to tag along with Bella,” I paused to let out a particularly rough cough, “we thought he had,” another cough “her mom, we had to do something.”

“Carlisle, I need you!” He’s definitely panicking now, the tone in his voice getting harder the more labored my breathing.

“What’s-” but his dad stops mid-question as he slides up to the side not occupied by his son, his gaze accessing. “Talk to me Y/n, what hurts?”

“Uh, everything?” The stern look I receive from both men has me reconsidering. “Chest - feels like someone is sitting on it. Head definitely got smacked around and my arm-“ I try to lift it show Carlisle.

“Sprained at the wrist, but not broken. Ribs probably broken, maybe a punctured lung, definitely a concussion.” Jasper lets out a breath at his dad’s assessment like he’s been punched and I roll my head in his direction.

Carlisle turns to his son, “Help Emmett take care of James, I’ve got her.” He doesn’t offer him a comforting touch, as if Jasper’s distressed state were a palpable and volatile thing.

Jasper gives him a hard look for a few beats before nodding. Not sparing me a glance, he disappeared from my limited view before I could blink.

“I’m taking both you and Bella to the hospital, I don’t have the supplies to treat either one of you. I don’t have anything to even give you a needle decompression, like I suspect you need and soon.” Carlisle briefs me as he finishes up his assessment of my broken body.

“Don’t call my mom, please-“

“Y/n, she deserves to know you’re injured.” He replies softly. “And it’ll be impossible to avoid explaining your injuries when you return home.”

My open eye blinks slowly, trying to think of a plan that doesn’t involve freaking my mother out.

“Y/n?” Carlisle pats my cheek lightly to gain my attention, but I can’t hear him anymore. Muffled shouting and I’m lifted in a pair of arms that are semi-familiar. I groan in pain and I’m shushed gently before everything fades to black.

At least the darkness takes away the pain.

• March 18th, 2005 • Hospital - Phoenix, Arizona•

Jasper

Beep, beep, beep… The heart monitor grating on every exposed nerve in my chest. As someone not completely accustomed to an animal-only vampire diet, hospitals are a massive no-go, but I didn’t really have a choice. Not when it comes to her.

So I swallow the white-hot hunger and try to let the incessant beeping lull me into a meditative state. She’ll be okay, that’s what her doctor and my father told me.

Four broken ribs, a punctured lung, a sprained wrist, a fractured orbital bone, and a mild concussion. My hands tighten painfully to ground me in the moment, James is dead - hell, he’s ash now. He hurt her and now he no longer terrorizes my girl which is good enough for me, has to be.

I know he filmed it, Edward watched it, but I can’t bring myself to. After sensing his rage, I know I would absolutely combust from anger, to see his hands on her… I can’t. I can hardly stand to sit here across the room and see her face bruised and swollen, body covered with tubes and wires.

A sharp intake of breath pulls me from the dark recesses of my mind. I want to stand and walk to her, but I don’t quite have a grip on my control yet. Anger, hunger, or this terrified feeling lodged in my throat.

“Jaz?” She croaks out, not seeing me due to her eye injury obstructing her view.

“I’m here.” I assure her, the quiet rumble of my voice having a noticeable relaxing effect on her tired body.

“Why are you-” a pause, “Oh god-I’m in a hospital-” I immediately flash to her side as her heartbeat picks up and worry begins to flood the room.

“Shh sweetheart, you’re alright.” Smoothing the hair on her forehead and her emotions at the same time.

“No-you,” she chokes out, “you-you’re here and-and-”

“I’m fine. I’m not letting you out of my sight.” I tell her resolutely, my fingers still caressing her beautiful face.

“If it hurts too much, if you aren’t ready to be in a place like this, I’ll understand. Your eyes…” her fingers trace lightly over the tops of my cheeks and I hold perfectly still. My eyes must be pitch black by now, but there are more important matters - like her in this hospital bed.

I give her a wan smile, “Darlin’, I’m exactly where I need to be.”

A blush rises to her cheeks at my words and it eases the restriction in my chest a fraction.

Her smile cracks, “My mom?”

“Downstairs.” Her face blanches completely, “I called her, she’s not mad-“

But her mother opens the door to her room slowly, trying to preserve the quiet.

“Mom?” Y/n asks tenderly, I stand to give them space as she rushes to her daughter’s bedside.

“I’m going to go find my father.” I tell them, giving Y/n one more lingering look before disappearing silently out of the door, save for the click of the latch.

“He’s been here the whole time,” her mom starts explaining, “I haven’t been able to get him to leave your side to even eat anything…” I stop paying attention as I walk down the corridor to give them privacy.

#bless-my-demons #redamancy series #jasper hale x reader #twilight #twilight fanfiction #jasper whitlock hale #jasper hale #jasper hale fanfiction #jasper whitlock #female reader insert #jasper hale x female!reader

313 notes · View notes

kenananamin · 7 months

Text

A Sorcerer’s Spirit

A story inspired by the 1947 film The Ghost and Mrs. Muir. Summary: You move into an older house that keeps going up on the market. Avoiding all the warning signs, you move in and meet the ghost of a sorcerer named Nanami Kento. Nanami sees you struggling with the piling bills that could put your livelihood at stake and suggests you write stories from his life to sell and help decrease the growing worry.

Preview: Nanami rounds the couch and sits beside you, “I have a plan.” You raise an eyebrow at him, “My life was not exactly… normal. Not a lot of people know about what I do — did. I think you can make some money with my stories.” You put down the letter in your hand and furrow your brows, “What?” Nanami shifts to face you, “Write my story. We can write it as a thriller or mystery or supernatural piece. We can change the genre depending on the story.” He explains with a proud grin and... you're confused.

Warnings: implied spoilers, mentioned deaths of several characters

Tags: nanami kento x fem!reader, sad, angst, ghost nanami, sad reader backstory, happy ending

~6.3k words

You sit at your table with the growing pile of bills and a throbbing headache. Having to move during such a difficult time and changing the address to every single letter you dread every month was absolute torture. You weren’t even able to unpack anything for your room, bathroom, or kitchen. Your priority was the big plastic bin with pending letters.

2:34am. You weren’t going to finish anything else for the night, so you stand to go to your mattress instead. God knows where the blankets and pillows are so you grab your jacket to use as a blanket for the night. I’ll deal with it tomorrow, it’s not like it’s going anywhere, you think.

You sleep almost immediately after laying on the mattress and if you had stayed awake for a minute more, you would have seen the figure appear by the doorway.

“Hmm,” the man by the doorway ponders, “I wonder how long it’ll take for you to leave…”

———

You wake up with the sun shining directly on your face, “Damn it. I should’ve put the curtains up.”

You take the sun’s assault as your sign to start your day. Going past the table full with the pending letters, you grab a couple boxes labeled bathroom and start unpacking. You were ready to settle into the house and you did not plan to move again. The landlord was a bit hesitant to rent this place to you but it was the size you needed and you just had to ignore the other warnings this place had attached to it. If you didn’t bother any other … things … that were here, then they would leave you alone too … right?

The doorbell rings and you knew it was the moving company with your bigger furniture. Four men start moving everything in and you focus on unboxing the things that were in their way. You’re putting a shoe rack in the entryway closet and close the door when you see a man standing right behind the cloor.

“Oh shit!” you jump back, “Oh – oh gosh, I’m so sorry, you just scared me.” You try to laugh off the weird encounter and look back at the man, “Sorry, was I blocking your way?” You move to the side and make space for the man, but – you notice he’s not holding anything… and his attire is very different from the movers.

“For how long are you planning to stay?” he asks with his hands in his pockets.

Did this random man just barge into your house?!

“You’re… not a mover. Please get out of my house, now.” You block the way to the rest of your house with your body and step forward.

The man chuckles and steps forwards too, “That’s my line. You get out of my house.”

You step back to turn and call one of the movers to help, but the man literally… disappears. You’re frozen in your entryway for a moment but you run into your house looking for the man. Maybe he just went past you and you think he disappeared?? The oldest mover goes to you and asks if you’re ok, worry obviously stitched into his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, umm, are any of the movers wearing like a – a suit? Or did anyone see someone else around the house?”

The older man looks to his colleagues but quickly turns back to you, “Miss, it’s only the five of us here.”

———

You spend the rest of the day looking around for that man. You looked in every room and closet and even checked the perimeter of the house for any possible breach. All windows were locked and doors closed. It makes sense that the man was at the entryway, the door was wide open for the movers… but where did he go?

You’re back at your table, trying to read the new bill that came in today, but distracted with the thoughts about that man that entered your house. You lean your head down on the table and focus on your breathing to try and avoid any panic or anxiety.

“Your furniture is too small for this place.”

You immediately lift your head to the voice that broke your silence, to the voice you recognized from that morning. How did he get in here?

You push your chair away and stand up to prepare to defend yourself if needed. The man looks you up and down and quietly says, “so dramatic.”

You grab the scissors you were using to shred the old letters and hold them in front of you, “What are you doing here?! How did you get in here?!”

The man looks at the scissors and laughs a bit. He starts to close the gap between you as you step back while swinging the scissors at the man who kept getting closer and truly scaring you. You keep stepping back and back and end up against a wall, and he steps right in front of you – right in front of you. You look to your hands that you know are still holding the scissors, but anything beyond your wrists – there’s nothing. Your wrists, hands, and scissors are inside this man’s chest and he is nonchalantly standing right in front of you.

You might have screamed, maybe, you aren’t too sure. But you know you faint and fall to the floor and the last thing you see are this man’s polished shoes.

———

You wake up against the cold floor. A male voice rings out, “You’re the first person to actually move all their furniture in here and unpack the bathroom and kitchen. Most people unpack their towels, maybe their toothbrushes and a pot or pan before running out again.”

You start to sit up, deciding if you should come to terms with the fact that you’re being held hostage in your own home. “Who are you?” You tried asking as brave as you could but the shakiness in your voice couldn’t be hidden and quickly gave you away.

The man is sitting on your couch, legs crossed and one arm leaned against the back of the seat, “I actually feel bad that you fainted and reacted the way you did so I won’t play my games right now,” he stands and makes his way to your spot on the floor. “I’m Nanami Kento, and this is my house.”

His house?? You furrow your brows and open your mouth to talk but he, Nanami, interrupts, “Yes, my house. I’m dead. But this is still my house. Haunted places don’t do well in real estate so not many people make it here, but the ones that do immediately leave because again – my house. I make sure people don't stay for long.”

You don’t move from your spot, speechless by this man. In a truly inexplicable way, you might, maybe, perhaps believe him...

“So when do you leave?”

The question brings you out of your shock and you stand to confront him, “I am not leaving! Your house?!” you scoff, “Sir, this is my house now. I am not leaving my house because a ghost in a suit refuses to leave limbo! Now leave!!”

Nanami grimaces but leans in to stop inches away from your face, “We’ll see.”

———

You get used to wearing your headphones the whole day around your house. You would flinch when you’d turn the corner and see Nanami lounging around or, in a couple occasions, waiting for you as soon as you opened a door.

You would see his lips moving, trying to talk to you but you’d look past him and continue what you were doing. It’s been over a week since you moved in and you’ve only had a couple conversations with him that usually end up in him calling you a “stubborn girl” before your headphones are back on.

You’re walking back home with a few groceries. The house was not too far from the store, but it was a good distance to let your ears rest from the headphones. And think about those bills. You would be ok with the next few payments since you’ve saved enough in the bank, and your job could cover a bit more after that but you’d run out of funds soon and have to live paycheck by paycheck. Then your mom would move in, then your brother too. Three mouths to feed…

You rub your face and walk into your house.

“I thought your name was y/n.”

You flinch after hearing Nanami’s voice. Shit, you forgot to put on your headphones. You start taking off your shoes and respond, “It is.”

“Then why are those medical bills written to a ‘Mari’?”

You look up to the man with his hands in his pockets, “Were you looking through my stuff?! Stop looking through my stuff!”

He tilts his head, “I didn’t go through anything. You always leave everything out on that table.” He shrugs after seeing your glare, “I got bored looking out the window, so I started reading what I could.”

You scoff and roll your eyes as you make your way to the kitchen. Nanami follows you and tries to peek inside your grocery bags.

“So why are there so many bills?” Nanami asks and leans on the counter as you take out your things.

You don’t feel like answering so you ask him, “Why is this house so cheap?”

To your surprise, he answers and points to himself, “It’s haunted.”

You roll your eyes and grab the butter and milk to put in the fridge.

He continues, “And over the years, this area hasn’t been as popular. The area west of here is in demand so this whole neighborhood has been going down. It might get really quiet around these streets soon.”

You close the fridge and look at him. You honestly weren’t expecting any sort of answer from the man despite the very simple question. He usually ignored your questions too and you just asked the first thing that came to mind to avoid answering his question. You take a deep breath, Oh what the hell, it's a ghost, “A lot of them are medical bills,” Nanami looks into your eyes as you explain, “My parents and brother were in a really bad car accident. The other car got away and there was no insurance to help. Everyone was hospitalized and the bills… didn’t stop. They lost their house after that and… and my dad passed shortly after.” You clear your throat as you finish your explanation, “Funerals are pretty expensive too…”

There’s a short silence before you hear a soft and genuine, “I’m sorry. It seems like you’ve taken over everything.”

You nod but look away from the man before he can notice your glossy eyes.

“Is that why you need this house? A place for your mom and brother?” he softly asked.

“Yeah. My mom should be leaving the hospital soon. My brother has a couple surgeries left but he’d move in soon after.”

Nanami nods as you finish your sentence. For the first time since you moved in and he appeared in front of you, he turns and leaves the kitchen without you having to say anything. You peek into the rooms to check for him, but he’s nowhere to be found after your first open conversation.

———

You’re shredding some old bills on your couch when you hear light steps behind you. Ever since you told Nanami about your situation, he hadn't been bothering you as much as that first week. He might pop up for a bit but he'd usually disappear and be unseen for most of the day. Nanami rounds the couch and sits beside you, “I have a plan.” You raise an eyebrow at him, “My life was not exactly… normal. Not a lot of people know about what I do — did. I think you can make some money with my stories.”

You put down the letter in your hand and furrow your brows, “What?”

Nanami shifts to face you, “Write my story. We can write it as a thriller or mystery or supernatural piece. We can change the genre depending on the story.” He explains with a proud grin and... you're confused.

You think about what he said for a while, "why do you want me to write your story?"

He shrugs, "It's not that I want my story out there to be remembered or something like that. I just think it would be interesting to write them out. But most importantly, it could help you and your family. And look at me," he points to himself, "dead. It's not like I would need any of that money, it would just be to help you."

"How do you even know that your stories would make money?" you ask more unsure of the plan the more you talk about it.

He lifts a brow playfully, "Oh y/n, you haven't even heard my story yet. You'll be begging me to write it."

The next week and a half was filled with Nanami telling you his story in great detail and the ideas he had on how to write each part of his life. You weren't sure at first but the more he told you about his life, the more intrigued you were. Sorcerers, curses, staying in the shadows yet being in the open without a single soul noticing. You'd sit in bed at the end of the night, writing blurbs and brainstorming with what he told you that day. It wouldn't be easy to try to sell this, you weren't even sure where to start, but it was a nice distraction after those terribly long days at work and heartbreaking hospital visits.

"I don't like that last sentence, it wouldn't keep the reader's attention," Nanami spoke from beside your bed and you jumped up, not expecting the man to be learning against the wall right next to your bed.

You had been getting used to Nanami appearing out of nowhere but it still surprised you when you thought you were finally alone only for him to break that silence... again.

You look up to ask the question that's been plaguing you since starting to listen to his stories, "How am I even supposed to sell this? It is interesting and all, but I don't know anyone and I'm sure publishing companies won't even look my way despite how good your story is."

Nanami keeps his eyes on the screen when he says, "Kiyokata Ijichi. He can help sell this. I'll give you more information so he believes you, but I know he'll help."

You blink rapidly not understanding a word of what he just said but look down again to re-do the last sentence.

———

You met with Kiyokata Ijichi and it did not take much convincing to get him to believe that a sorcerer's spirit was floating around you at home and he wanted you to sell his story. It made the man laugh and he had to remove his glasses to wipe his tears after hearing how Nanami looked. Nanami had told you about the last few hours of his life, how chaotic it had been in Shibuya and the last image others around him must have had. He knew his death was a gruesome one and that it'd be reported and filed for other sorcerers. Ijichi would of course have found out how his colleague —no, close friend, died. The man was content that Nanami wore his suit and still had his glasses...

Ijichi took what you had of the transcript and told you he would find a publishing company. He assured that he would usually not even listen to a proposition like the one you presented him, but he wanted to do anything to help his friend one last time.

You took the opportunity of your meeting to ask questions about Nanami. Ijichi spoke a bit of his adolescence, but spent most of his time complimenting the talented sorcerer for his skill in fighting and caretaking personality despite the stoic appearance. You could tell he admired the man and truly truly missed him. He mentioned he would've have liked to answer one more call from Nanami and help him one last time. This was the call he was waiting for, and he would do everything to make sure this mission given by Nanami Kento was completed.

———

You started to leave a chair at the table out for Nanami to sit when you left the house for work or the hospital. You'd leave sheets and sheets of paper spread on the table and floor so he could move around the house and read the edited stories to give you notes and/or corrections when you got home. You had tried handing him a stack of the new edits before, but they just plopped on the floor. Nanami stared at the stack on the floor and told you he could not lift or touch anything. His brows lightly furrowed and you could see the sadness extending into his eyes. Although he would mist away as a spirit, you would honestly forget that this man was not actually there. To you, he was like another visitor whose company you started to enjoy. You started spreading the paper on other surfaces that day and although Nanami did not tell you anything at that moment, he was grateful that you'd take the time and energy to do it.

———

"Can I ask you something... kind of personal?" You look up from your laptop to glace over to Nanami sitting across from you reading his next story you had edited. He nods and you continue, "how come you never leave the house? You stop at the door when I'm walking out and you've never attempted to walk out with me.."

He puts his elbows on the table and looks straight into your eyes, thinking about how to answer. "After my death in Shibuya, I had very little energy in the afterlife. I was ready to go at that moment, but a part of me wanted to continue — to stay. I had thought about home and how much I would have liked to be home resting, packing for my trip that never happened. I didn't know I was doing it but I attached myself to my house in the process. I can leave, but it takes a lot of energy even as a spirit. If I have very low energy, the door does not lead me out to the street, but it becomes a beacon of light that I suspect would take me to the actual afterlife. I'm not sure I should take that chance right now and head out the door with the possibility of not coming back."

You softly nod at his response, "thank you for telling me. I'm sorry again about Shibuya, but thank you for telling me... and helping me, Nanami."

The man smiles at you and simply replies, "thank you for listening."

———

"Please promise me that you won't show yourself to my family. Please, I don't want her to see anything she shouldn't and go back to the hospital from shock," you tell Nanami as you fix the pillows on the couch, preparing for your mom's homecoming. He assured that only you will see him and that he will not speak around your mother to avoid you accidentally giving an answer out loud and freaking her out. You head out to pick up your mom from her lengthy hospital stay while Nanami looks out the window, awaiting your return.

When you're back inside, Nanami is leaning on the kitchen counter, listening to your mom thank you for everything and compliment the place. You would catch Nanami smiling at you both when you'd glance his way. A deep part of you thought, I wish they could meet. I wish I could tell her about the man standing so close to us, the man who has been keeping me from a complete break.

In the kitchen, Nanami thought, They look so alike, the same eyes, bright smile, beautifully soft hair, calm beating heart... A beating heart. She was alive, she has a tint to her cheeks, she can touch and feel. Alive. Unlike me.

———

Ijichi found several publishing houses that were interested in your stories and a few even offered deals for multiple books and volumes. The books would be published under a pen name, a combination of both yours and Nanami's name that you both contemplated one late night on your bedroom floor, far from your mother's listening ears.

You ran back home to tell Nanami the news, too excited to wait until the end of the work day. Thank the heavens that your mom was at her part time job when you got home, you don't think you'd be able to contain your excitement to your room at a moment like this.

"Nanami!! Nanami, where are you!" You start screaming out for him as soon as you open the door. But.. it's quiet, "Nanami, Ijichi called!! Where are you!" You head for the common space but he's not there either. A quiet alarm starts going off in your head, but you try to push it back. You try to smile and ask again, "Nanami? Hey, where are you? I have news from Ijichi about the book — can you come out?"

Silence. You only heard your footsteps walking into rooms while looking for Nanami. You open the door to the extra room you use as an office sometimes and see Nanami mist into shape in the corner, "Oh! I found you!" Relief immediately spreads in your chest and you smile widely at the man.

Nanami returns a small smile and asks what happened. You excitedly share the news and jump around him while repeating every single detail Ijichi said. Nanami listens with a smile as he leans on the small desk in the room. He tried to keep the smile on his face for you, but his mind wouldn't stop racing. I can't do this to her yet, oh god — no, not yet. I know I should for her sake, but I... can't.

———

Nanami enters your room as you're asleep. Your eyes softly shifting behind your lids, your fingers occasionally twitching and your chest slowly and repeatedly rising and falling. He never considered coming into your room while you were asleep before, but he wanted to tonight. Just tonight. He kneels next to your bed and lifts his hand to your hand. I can't touch her. My fingers go into her hand and I cannot feel her at all. Nanami floats his fingers over yours, pretending his hand is resting on yours as it would if his form was tangible. He imagines what your skin would feel like. What your small, soft hand would feel like to hold in his. I have to try, I have to give her what I can. Nanami floats his hand over your heart, imagining he could feel the soft beating he would focus on listening when you were around. He leans in closer, much closer than ever before, and gently hovers over your your lips. If only I really could. He pretends to land a soft kiss on your lips, something he wishes he could actually do a thousand times.

———

You jump around and cry when a copy of your soon-to-be released book is finally in your hands. The first of a five-book series. Nanami stands next to you and smiles as you show your mom what you had been working on. You leave out the fact that a sorcerer who hovers around the house helped you write it and say it was a fantasy book you've been thinking about for a long time.

Your mom starts crying, proud that you wrote a book and apologetic for potentially taking so much of your time when you were trying to do something for yourself. You're comforting her and telling her you're glad to be able to provide and be with her.

Nanami goes into the office to give you the space and privacy to talk with your mom. He decides it's finally time. Tonight, I'll do it tonight.

Late at night, after a long conversation with your mom, you sit on your bed as Nanami sits on your floor. You're still holding the book, tired from the overwhelming excitement and adrenaline. You had also just gotten news that your brother would be coming home within the next few days. For the first time in a long time, your face hurt from smiling and crying so much the whole day. You lie down and tell Nanami, "I'm so happy Nanami. Thank you for helping me so much," you felt the tears well up again, "you've helped so fucking much." The tears fall but your smile does not falter as you thank him.

Nanami wishes he could wipe your tears, but he stays in his spot next to your bed and says, “Call me Kento, I think we’re close enough for you to call me by my first name now.” Nanami wanted to hear you voice say his name, to see your lips move to every consonant and vowel in the beautiful way he'd imagined.

For some reason, the thought of calling him his first name makes you let out a small giggle. You look at his waiting face, “Thank you Kento. Thank you a thousand times over.”

You both sit there smiling at each other as your tears continue to fall. He comforts you how he can and you both stay awake talking late into the night. And that night, before your exhaustion drifted you to a slumber, you imagined the bed shifting next to you and Nanami laying down beside you. His body warming the other side of your bed, and his arms wrapping around you and embracing you.

Nanami waits for you to sleep as he watches from the same spot on your floor, for your breath to slow down and even out. He gets on his knees and hovers a kiss over your lips and another on your forehead.

That would be the last time you saw Nanami. And you would not remember how he helped you or kept you company.

———

Nanami used all the energy he could to leave the house for the first time since shortly after his death. He had only left the house once before and it drained him enough that he could not even mist his body into appearing. But tonight, he had to leave to go see Ijichi, even if that meant risking not having the energy to appear in front of anyone ever again and not knowing where he'll end up.

Nanami leaves the house, tired, but finally leaves and starts to make his way to Ijichi's apartment. Nanami waited for Ijichi, knowing he would open the door at the crack of dawn to leave for work as early as he always did.

Ijichi opened the door and to say the breath was knocked out of him would not be an understatement. Nanami appeared as a faint and transparent figure in front of Ijichi, compared to the opaque figure he could create with you with the energy of the house. Faint and transparent, Ijichi still cried and thanked the heavens for a chance to see Nanami in his fine attire one more time. Nanami spoke fast, saying he did not know how much time he would have, but asked Ijichi for one last favor.

Nanami asks Ijichi to find someone to erase the memory of him in your mind. He did not want to be remembered by you and wanted you to enjoy your life and new-found success without wondering about the what if's. Nanami saw the way you looked at him lately and it broke his heart every single time. He saw you pondering the possibilities and he knew you both were thinking the same things. Nanami wanted you to live, to enjoy your life without thinking of the 'between' where he would stay.

Ijichi agrees and says he will stay in contact with you with the excuse of being your agent. Nanami agrees and stands by his friend's entryway as Ijichi calls someone and they all rush back to the house before you wake. Nanami tells Ijichi how to get in and he quietly stands with Ijichi in the corner of the room as the woman Ijichi called rests her hand on your forehead, altering your memories and giving you peace.

———

Many, many years later…

Your brother and his grandson have just left your house. You sent your nurse home early and now you sit in bed with the photo album your grandnephew made for you and a mug of your favorite tea. Your hand hurts if you hold the tea for too long but you enjoy the warmth of the mug on your stiff hands. You finish looking over the photo album and put it down next to you and shift down your bed to sleep while you think about the precious photos your grandnephew thought to give you. You turn off your lamp and feel yourself drift off to the happy thoughts of your brother and his beautiful family.

You wake up and the sun is barely starting to shine through your window. You move to sit up and it’s… easier. Your back does not hurt, and you were able to sit up much faster than you have in years.

“y/n.”

The familiarity in the voice stops you mid-stretch. You slightly turn and see a man. But... not just any man…. Nanami?

It’s overwhelming. Your eyes are scanning his figure as the memories flood in, the arguing and bickering, the planning, the writing, the laughter, the tears… all of your memories. He’s standing on the other side of the bed and smiles. It’s the biggest smile you’ve ever seen from anyone, especially from him from what you can recall. His eyes no longer hold the sadness from before, it’s – it’s relief?

“I wanted to be the first one you saw after…” he pauses and looks behind you on the bed, “it was peaceful, painless, wasn’t it?”

You follow his gaze and look directly behind you to where he’s looking. And there you are. You’re laying still and it looks like you’re asleep. You scramble away from your figure and stand up in a semi-panic.

Nanami walks around the bed as you keep staring at yourself, dumbfounded, and reaches for you, and touches you. Actually touches you. You flinch at the contact at first but lean into it immediately. It was almost as if your body was waiting for his touch, yearning for it and not being able to relax until the contact finally happened. This was the first time you felt him. His fingers lightly grazed your forearm and slid down to your hand, half intertwining your fingers.

You look away from your body on the bed and look at Nanami. He has stepped closer and is looking at every detail on your face. You look down at your hands and notice they are no longer wrinkled and covered in sunspots. These hands were the hands that typed for hours on end, the hands that covered the floor with sheets of paper, the hands that reached for Nanami's back as he walked away… the hands from when you were young.

“You’re beautiful.” Nanami moves a few strands of loose hair and leaves his hand on your cheek.

“Why did you leave? What happened to you?” You tilt your body to face him, moving closer and snuggling your face into his hand, savoring the feeling of his large hand on your cheek.

“I never left you alone. I was still here, I just didn’t want you to see me,” Nanami sighs. “You needed to live your life, I wanted you to live your life.” He pauses before asking, “do you regret it?”

You step closer to him, your bodies only inches apart, “What?”

“Writing my story, the memories of it all.”

You shake your head. You lived your life after the book, Nanami made sure that you were set before taking a step back and watching from afar, from behind. You could never regret writing his story. After all, it was his house and his story that brought you two together.

Nanami asks another question as he strokes small circles on your cheek with his thumb, “Darling, why didn't you leave — get married?”

Why didn’t you? You think for a moment before answering, “I – I was too attached to this place, I think. I couldn’t leave this house and the thought of it was too sad, I would shut down those conversations immediately when my family would bring it up. I thought maybe it was the memories I had in this place with my family... but I think it was you. Subconsciously, I think I knew it was you I didn't want to leave behind. I never felt like getting married either, I was living well by myself, and I did well.”

He moves both hands to your face, staring into your eyes and rememorizing the mesmerizing color that he missed staring into. The feeling of his fingers finally being able to touch you is almost too overwhelming, “I’m sorry... and thank you. For living so well… and for so long.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and finally, after decades since the first time you thought about it, kiss him. Your first kiss, his soft and supple lips covering yours as he lowers his arms and pulls you in closer. It is slow, so painfully but beautifully slow. You had both fantasized about this moment, the moment to finally feel each other so closely. Nanami pulls away from your lips but drags his lips around your face, kissing random spots over and over again.

You slightly pull away from him and ask, “was I an ugly old woman?”

Nanami laughs at your bizarre question during such an intimate moment. He pulls away as well to drag his eyes to look every detail of your face again, touching your hair and leaning his lips back over your forehead, “No, you were the cutest woman I’ve ever seen.” He leans away again but some of the sadness from before flashes in his eyes, “I just wish I met you during my life... and aged with you to touch your wrinkled hands and run my fingers over your smile lines and grey hair.”

You smile at him to relieve his sadness and move to hold his face, “You can hold me now whenever you'd like. And I can hold you, touch you, whenever I’d like.”

Nanami returns your smile and holds your hands to slowly pull you out of the room. He starts to slowly look around the house and you understand why. You’re leaving – the both of you. This would be the last time you’d be in this house… because you were leaving with Nanami. You follow his lead and look around the house one last time. The kitchen you’d brainstorm in, the living room floor and couch you'd congregate to for the next chapter, the office you’d sneak off to so your mother could not hear you, the bathroom you’d argue in with Nanami when he didn’t agree on a few sentences from a chapter. There were so many memories, with and without Nanami, you lived a long, eventful, and ultimately joyous life.

You both end up back in your room where Nanami looks over your aged body on the bed then the pictures on your nightstand and bookshelf. A full life. A happy ending to a devastating start. He feels your hand on his back, and he turns. The stark contrast to your aged body, the young woman who stood up to him after trying to stab him with a pair of scissors... and trusted him.

You both hear the door pad slide open and the clicking of the buttons. You hold out your hand to Nanami and he happily accepts the hand he'd been yearning to touch. You both walk out of your room and pass by the unknowing nurse walking to your room and hear a gasp followed by quiet prayers. You and Nanami stood to the side as the funeral home came for your body. The respect they showed and the grief of the nurse you loved told you you had done enough, and you were ready to go.

Nanami squeezes your hand a bit and nods towards the main door. You nod to him, and you both start to make your way to the door, saying quiet goodbyes to your favorite parts of your house. Nanami’s house, your house.

“Thank you Kento, for letting me live such a life. And for waiting for me.”

His wide smile returns to his face, “I’ve been waiting decades to hear you say my name again. It’s all I’ve wanted.”

You're both smiling with heads held high amongst the humans who all have somber expressions and their heads down. You pass the foyer and look back one last time. Nanami is not alone, and neither are you. You'd both be together in the next step, happy to finally experience something together in the same form. He softly kisses you again before stepping closer out the door. Hands tightly held together, bodies side-by-side, you both step into the bright white light.

the end

a/n: The Ghost and Mrs. Muir is one of my favorite movies ever. black and white movies fill a very special place in my heart so please please try watching them if you haven't yet!

252 notes · View notes

writefightandflightclub · 2 months

Text

Ride or Die (Santiago “Pope” Garcia x fem!reader): Chapter Nine (of 11 - COMPLETED SERIES)

Series summary: Together, you and Santiago have been “soldiers” then “friends” then “lovers”; but will you ever figure out what comes next, especially when Santiago can’t (or won’t) stop running?

Genre: a LOT of angst, (some) smut, best friends to… lovers?

Warnings: see collated series warnings, here. Please note this series is 18+. Minors or ageless blogs interacting will be blocked.

Series info: this is a COMPLETED SERIES. All chapters are written and queued. Posting schedule is here (includes series master list).

Author’s note: Shorter chapter this week (be warned, next week's will be the heftiest yet), but I hope you like this next instalment! It's really gearing us up for the FINAL TWO! As always, I would be super grateful for any comments / reblogs / asks you may wish to send my way. If you've read this far, THANK YOU! ILY :-*

Word count: 3.8k for this part.

Tag list info: will reblog separately tagging those on taglist. You can request to be added to taglist if you are 18+. Send me an ask, please, so I can keep track :)

Today is a new day. It’s a new day and you’re done crying. You’re done holding on to anger and resentments.

Besides, you feel as though you gave Santiago everything you had last night, and - at least for now - there is nothing else left to give.

So, instead of wallowing, you plod downstairs to where Frankie is stationed in the kitchen, offering up your favourite pastries, coffee, and even pulpy, freshly squeezed orange juice. You pull up to the breakfast bar, hopping up on a stool to survey your extravagant pity platter.

It’s true then. “He’s gone.”

Frankie nods solemnly, leaning into the other side of the island like he’s a sympathetic bartender in some old Western flick. He claps his palm to your shoulder in a supportive gesture. “I’m sorry, chiquita.”

You shrug.

His face twists. That’s not all there is. “Don’t shoot the messenger, but…”

“What, Frankie?”

“He had to bounce but he didn’t want to wake you. Said you looked far too peaceful sleeping for him to come along and fuck that up.”

Your brow notches, absorbing all of that with a contrived neutrality. “How did he… seem?”

Frankie’s eyebrows raise lightly as he ponders, thinking back over prior events. “Calm, actually. Happy, even.”

“Hmm.” You smile softly to yourself. Makes a change from lately to hear that. You get it though. After last night, you can’t feel anything else either. Even if he technically didn’t say goodbye in words, you get it. You aren’t mad. Chances are one or both of you would have fucked it up this morning. This way at least, it leaves the night you spent together untarnished. Makes it feel like holding on to a good dream, before the realities of the day can set in and make things fraught.

Frankie’s face crumples with concern as you gaze wistfully into the middle-distance. “You gonna be alright?”

You pump your eyebrows. Search yourself for feelings. “You know what? Yeah. I am. I’m okay.”

Frankie’s eyes glint playfully then. “Oh. So you won’t need alllll o’ these yummy pastries?”

You laugh as he eyes the pain au chocolat pointedly. “Get stuck in, Morales,” you invite fondly, and he obliges, scraping up a stool and wiggling on his ass until he’s comfy.

“Hey. So,” he says through mouthfuls. “Did you two figure anything out?”

You groan at the sheer complexity of Frankie’s simple question. Did you? Or are you still going around in circles? “We know we love each other. The rest? Uh. I still don’t know.”

“He’ll get there.”

You puff air out from between your teeth.

“You don’t think so?” Frankie interprets.

You wrap your arms around your middle. “It’s not that. It’s… I don’t think it was all on him.” You don’t have any blame or accusations left. No grudges to hold on to - your hands are open. You’ve both made mistakes. Manufactured this distance, in your own ways - sometimes literally, sometimes not. You were both just trying to figure all this out as best as you could.

Frankie’s brows notch and rise with a silent question. How so? What do you mean?

The thoughts form as you speak them. Clumsy yet intrepid. “I guess... It just feels like we were… Both waiting for the other person to get somewhere, you know? But this whole time, we should’ve been heading there together. Otherwise, how the fuck were we supposed to know where to end up?” You slide a palm over your face. “Christ. Does that make any fucking sense?”

Frankie ponders. “I think so. Like trying to meet on the highway without a time or a place or directions?”

You reach out and clasp his hand. “You get me, buddy.”

Frankie blinks, tangling himself up further in your metaphor, but valiantly trying to muddle through. “And so… do you…?” He scratches his chaotic mop of hair. “Do you have a map now? A meeting point? I mean… What happens next? On the highway?” Your mouth lilts into a gentle smile at Frankie’s earnest question. He notes and feeds your amusement, going off the deep-end with this metaphor now. “Are you driving in shifts, chiquita? Grabbing cheez-its for the road?”

You laugh, the musical sound mingling with Frankie’s throaty chuckle. “What happens next?” You repeat the question out loud, carefully, posing it to yourself. Hasn’t that always been the question? However, the very sentiment which used to scare you now feels a lot more like potential. Like possibility.

Still, you feel -for the moment- like leaving that question hanging. You leave a pregnant pause. You let it breathe.

For now; you let it go. You let him go.

“Where are the other guys at, anyway?”

Frankie rides your tangent with ease. “Packing shit up.”

“We should help them.”

“Yeah, we should,” Frankie grins mischievously, and yet neither of you make any effort whatsoever to mobilise.

Instead, Frankie pours you a cup of coffee from the pot.

“You wanna call off the hike today?” he asks hopefully, Frankie increasingly a creature of comfort.

“No. Hell no. I need to move.” You lock your fingers and stretch your arms above your head, a satisfying stretch extending down your spine.

Frankie’s eyes sparkle across at you. “Just not in aid of helping the Millers pack their trunk, huh?”

“Exactly! What did I tell you, bud. You get me.”

You do though. You need to move. You need to move forward. No more standing in place. No more moving in circles, always repeating.

Still, when you think about it. When you think to what is ahead, to what is next, your stomach drops. You feel overcome by a sudden anxiety which you can’t place at first. Like having misplaced something dear to you. Like having done something wrong but not being able to recall exactly what. Then, all of a sudden, you understand it entirely.

“Listen. Tell me about this job, Frankie.”

He immediately tenses up. “What job?”

You take a bite of your pastry. “The one with Lorea’s cash house.”

Frankie simply groans. He always knows more than he lets on, this one. About everything. Everyone.

“Is it true? That you and the boys are in?”

You can plainly see his reticence to respond. But you know for a fact that he’s about to cave.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

“They need a pilot,” Frankie states, looking up at you with guilty, puppy dog eyes.

“Fuck me. He dragged you back in too, huh? You know… Sometimes I wonder if any of us are good for each other.” Your tone grows mildly irate, your heart quickening, but you recognise it for what it is. It’s simply anger veiling worry. You love these boys.

“Come on, don’t say that,” Frankie bargains. “We’ve dragged each other out of hell.”

“And back again.”

Frankie takes a deep breath. His tongue pokes around the meat of his cheek. “He says it’s simple recon. In and out. No mess.”

You jut your chin up. Stare at him levelly, unblinking. You know that Frankie will give it to you straight. Know that he can’t help himself. “And you buy that?”

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

“Not for a fucking second.”

You scoff, shaking your head. Not when it comes from Santiago, no. After all, you’ve fallen for Santiago’s bullshit plenty of times yourself. It’s the fact that Frankie would wander in with his eyes wide open to it that really gets you. It’s something else.

Still, before you can chastise him for being so stupid, Frankie glumly offers up some explanation. “Look. I need the job. I… I got my license revoked.”

Your heart drops - and your face with it. Your hands clamp over your mouth. “Frankie,” you say softly, with empathy. “Fuck.”

He hunches in on himself despondently, his hands disappearing up his sleeves, his fists clenching and his gaze cast downward. “I fucked up, man. Cassie has a baby on the way and I fucked up.” His eyes swim with a deep shame.

“Coke?” you venture, tentatively.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Slowly, he nods.

“Frankie.” Your hand swipes over your face, and your eyes fill with concern for him. His palm waves in the air, however, quickly dismissing any sympathies you may care to bestow.

“I’m back on track. Getting there. I am.” His eyes are nothing but determined. Sincere. “But I need this gig. No matter how fucking hare-brained a scheme that pendejo is cooking.”

“Think of the baby, dude.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” Frankie says forcefully, in a harsh tone he rarely uses, and you know in no uncertain terms that the conversation is done. That he’s made his mind up, and that he won’t hear you out any further on the matter.

You swallow. Regroup. You chew on some platitudes, but none of them feel quite right.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Frankie says after a stretched, tense moment. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“It’s okay,” you jostle his shoulder, and it shakes a little of the tension from him and the room. “I get it. And shit. I’m sorry for putting all of my bullshit on you this weekend. I wish you’d said something, Cat.”

He shrugs. Speaks with finality. “There’s not much to say. It’s done. I just need to make it right. And I will.”

“I believe it. But you do know that I’m… If you need… Anything, Frankie.”

He looks up at you then, the warmth back in his eyes as your voice cracks, searching for the words. But, he already knows everything you could ever say. You’ve said it before, a hundred times. He knows you love him. Knows you’re proud of him. Knows you’d do anything for him. Knows you want the best for him. He knows it already.

In turn, you are sure that he already knows everything you could possibly call him out on. That he’s already thought about it. Weighed it up. Thought about the risks. About the possibility that he’s acting out of desperation. The possibility that he’d probably be better off staying the hell away from Pope’s schemes.

He scrapes his stool back and comes to you, bundling you into a tight, warm, big brother hug. You tug in a deep breath, and you let it go. You’re done trying to control everything around you. It never really got you anywhere.

Still, there’s an undeniably uncomfortable knot in your chest as you think about them all gearing up. Strapping on their tac vests. Shoving clotting pads into their med packs. It makes you feel physically ill. And so, you can’t help yourself. “Do me a favour, Frankie? Don’t take Tom?” You muffle the words into his shirt, half hoping they will get lost there. That maybe he didn’t even hear you. But, you know when he braces his hands on your shoulders to get a good look at you, that your game is up.

“Why not?”

You see it then, in his eyes. That Tom is not a risk Frankie has considered. His presence not something he has weighed up.

You deliver your words as plainly and transparently as possible. “He’s too hungry, Cat.”

Frankie simply locks eyes with you, as though trying to weed out your motives. Shrewdly trying to assess your conclusions. Is this just your petty vendetta talking? Is this intelligence? Is this coming from your gut?

“Please. Just trust me.”

“I do,” he nods eventually, but you should know better than to feel any relief. And next, there it is. “I do but it’s not my call.”

Well. You’ve said your piece. You guess that’s all you’ve got. Absent-mindedly, you tug on Frankie’s lapels. “You’d better come back to me, Cat,” you plead plaintively. “And by God, you’d better bring those other fuckers back with you to boot.”

With a wistful affection, Frankie tugs you to him again and you stand there in silence for a few more moments, the sounds of the other guys evident in the background. In time, you and Frankie release each other and gravitate towards them, tucking yourselves under the porch to survey their efforts packing up the trucks.

“We should probably help,” you repeat again, and, to your side, your hear Frankie’s murmur of agreement. However, when you glance to him you see his long, lean frame stretched out up against the wooden porch post. He looks like a man with nowhere else to be in a hurry.

“Fuck,” he curses at nothing in particular, surveying the animated bodies of his buddies before him with both awe and trepidation. “How did we get here? Years of service and none of us have anything to show for it.”

That’s a Santiago sales pitch, through and through, you reckon. You recognise his propaganda. Funny, since he used to swallow the flag for breakfast. Is that how he got to him then? Convinced Frankie he could finally make bank? Take what he deserved? Ah. Or give his family what they deserved? Frankie is all about family.

A sad smile twitches your mouth. “Well. That’s not entirely true, is it? Not nothing.” You think of what you’ve gained from all of this. “I got a gaggle of weird ass brothers. A suitcase full of trauma. A fucked back. And! An array of unhealthy coping mechanisms.”

Despite the darkness of your statement, Frankie’s eyes crinkle. What else is left to do but laugh, anyway? “Maybe Will should put that in his speech.”

You belly chuckle at that, moving to lean up against the opposite post. “Yeah. Scare those poor recruits off before they can end up like us, huh?”

Frankie looks wistful again. “It hasn’t been all bad.”

No. It hasn’t. He’s not wrong about that.

You ponder on it. If you could go back and change your path - would you? But, despite everything, your squad would be far too much to lose. “Sure. The weird thing is, as shitty as it’s been at times? I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

There is a beat, and Frankie reaches out across the space between you and wordlessly clasps your hand.

“Listen. You gonna be okay, Frankie?” He looks down at his worn sneakers, contemplatively, as though he really doesn’t know the answer yet. You give his hand a squeeze, trying to let him know that’s okay. “We’ll talk more, okay?”

He nods - a subtle, concessionary thing, like maybe he could really do with that.

“I get why you didn’t tell me. But I’m sorry. That I didn’t do a better job of asking.”

“It’s not on you,” he says generously. A little too generously, in your estimation. You’ve been rather wrapped up in your own shit. A little too self-involved. “I know I can talk to you. I just… I, uh. Didn’t want to ruin the weekend.” The irony of that statement causes a throaty chuckle to bounce in Frankie’s neck, and your palm slides over your face in regret even as you laugh in reciprocity.

“Christ. I did a great job of that all by myself.”

“Well,” Frankie says good-naturedly, shifting to bump your hip with his. Wrapping his crooked arm over your shoulder. “You had some help.”

It is your turn now to look wistful, as you contemplate the storm that is Santiago, and all the rubble he left behind. “He’s really gone again.” Frankie simply squeezes you a little tighter. “Hey. Anything else I should know, by the way?” you needle. “You’re not holding out on me?”

Frankie sucks air through his teeth. “Tom and Molly. She finally served him papers.”

You fold forward, hinging to collapse your upper half onto the porch rail. “Fuck. Shit. I really need to start being nicer to that shithead.” Still, from behind, Frankie’s familiar chuckle buoys you, even as you inwardly berate yourself for getting wrapped up in your own business. “We’re all messes, huh, Frankie? Do you think we can fix it?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I do.”

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

You toss him a soft, grateful smile, which extends as Will makes his way over to your position, greeting you “Hey, slackers!”. You and Frankie share a conspiratorial glance.

“All set for the hike, Captain?”

“No thanks to you.”

“I had an alternate mission. Ranks of pastries to deplete.”

Will feigns tiredness, but his baby blues sparkle even as he rolls them.

“Anyway. Didn’t need you. All set to head out as soon as you slackers get your act together. You wantin’ to do the usual route, hon?”

You brace your arms against the porch rail. Dig your fingers into the wood. “No,” you say, the words a little tight in your chest, but they feel good. “Not today. There’s somewhere else. Somewhere I always wanted to go.”

Somewhere new.

“Fine by me,” Frankie offers. “Just let me grab more pastries.”

***

You relish the hike, when it comes. You relish walking a path that is -to you- entirely untrodden. That he can’t touch. You walked the old, familiar trails for too long, and the only place it ever got you was right back where you started.

The bullshit ends here. You’ve decided.

And so, you turn your attention away from your sun, and to the wider constellation of stars around you. To yourself.

You even do your best to make peace with Tom. To put old grudges to bed.

You relish the hike. Enjoy the undulating landscape. You don’t know for sure what’s next, or where you’re going, but the difference is that for once, that feels okay. Full of potential.

You walk until your legs burn, and when you get to the summit you take a moment to drink in the crisp, clifftop air. To look out across the ocean. To see it from a distance and to know that this time, it cannot break you over and over and over.

Still, when you’re at the top, as if by providence, Santiago texts you.

“Hey. Sorry I had to take off early. I wanna say… Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For the best night of my life.”

“Ah. Fuck it,” you whisper to yourself, and you press the button to call him. You immediately call him. He immediately picks up. “Hi.”

”Hi. What’s up? They just announced my gate.”

”That’s okay, I’ll be quick. I, uh. I just needed to tell you too. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For a proper goodbye.”

“Look, I’m sorry that I-”

“-I’m not mad, Santi. I think… I think we said everything we have to say, right? I think it was…”

”…Perfect?”

”Yeah. Yeah, pretty perfect.”

“Listen. It’s selfish, but. With everything coming up. The Lorea job and… I needed it, you know? Needed that image of you sleeping.”

There’s an ache in your chest and it’s bittersweet.

He cares for you in every way he knows how, doesn’t he? In every way he can. He’s not perfect, but hey, neither are you. You’re both a little bit broken, but that doesn’t mean you can’t heal. And most of all, it doesn’t mean you don’t deserve love while you’re doing it.

One day, he’ll turn up at your door, and he’ll be welcome. Whenever that is. Whenever it happens. But until then, you can’t just wait for him.

Until then, you’ll love him; from a distance.

No longer can you leave him in anger. No longer can he break you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Maybe one day, that will even be enough.

“Would you promise me something?”

“Sure.”

“Come back and visit soon, huh?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I promise.”

You conclude the call, and you stretch your arms above your head. A pleasant tingle snakes down your back as it cracks. You haven’t felt so relaxed in a long time. You don’t think you’ve ever felt such peace.

The path that you are walking is yours, and you implicitly trust where it’s taking you.

***

You are grateful to slip into the passenger side of Frankie’s car, beginning the drive back to the city and signalling the end of your stay at the beach house. Still, there is something bittersweet there too as you leave behind the site of so many memories from over the years - and now, the site of your most perfect night with Santiago.

It reminds you of all you’ve been through. The ups and the downs and plenty of things which went sideways. You are starting to realise though, that perhaps the landscape of love is undulating. That sometimes the terrain is tough. It shouldn’t have been quite so tough though - so steep and unforgiving; and so, you hope for gentler, easier paths ahead.

It is bittersweet then, as you leave this place behind.

As you look forward, having said goodbye. As you wrestle with your past, future, and present.

Frankie swings the car out and onto the highway, the Millers up ahead and Tom behind, your vehicles forming a convoy through the dark, the glow of headlights illuminating the route ahead.

You sit in silence, eyes and thoughts unfocussed, in abstraction, as you watch vague shapes and colours slipping by the window, your own face occasionally reflected right back at you. You look older than you used to. More tired. But you don’t dislike that.

After a while, Frankie’s robust voice slices through the dark, his eyes on the road and hands threading the wheel. “I don’t know if this will make things better or worse but… Do you want to hear it?”

You swivel your head towards him, fractured, liquid panels of light slipping over the planes of his face as your surroundings pass by in a haze. “Hear what?”

“Pope’s heartbreak playlist?”

Your hands dig into your thighs where they rest. “Do I?”

“Well?” Frankie asks, his finger poised over the button, and evidently not willing to make that decision for you.

“Yeah. Fuck it.”

You brace a little, in all honesty. A tightness takes hold of your chest as you wonder if the first track to befall your ears might be angry. Resentful. Full of blame or sadness that you can’t hope to wrestle with and come out on top. But, as the first notes of the track sound out, you are surprised to find a full, unfettered laugh rises from out of your throat. The tears swell in your eyes next, for it is nothing if not bittersweet.

“That dickhead. I can’t believe…”

You can’t believe it. The fact he has chosen a song which reflects your life together? Which reveals a happy memory?

He loves you, doesn’t he? He has for a long time. And you can’t help but hope that maybe one day, that will even be enough. For tonight though, it will definitely do. You’ll take it. You’ll treasure it.

“Whiskey in the Jar,” Frankie scoffs as he catches on to the song, even if his fingers are drumming against the lip of the wheel involuntarily. “I mean. What the shit’s that all about? He’s a weird kid, I swear.”

“Frankie,” you laugh brightly, turning once again to look wistfully out of the window, as the view of the beach house and the ocean recedes into the distance. You catch another glimpse of yourself in the pane, and this time you look younger, you think. More alive. “Did I ever tell you about that night in Philadelphia?”

#santiago pope garcia x reader #triple frontier #oscar isaac #ride or die series

86 notes · View notes

olderthannetfic · 20 days

Note

I just got a comment saying I should have tagged for dom/sub undertones and I'm a little confused. In canon, this guy always bosses his wife around re: doing shit that's healthy for her - napping, drinking water, remembering to eat more than once a day, getting more than 3 hours of sleep - and she lovingly calls him "Boss Man" as a nickname because of it. On some occasions where she's gone more than a day without eating he'll swipe her phone and order her to eat before she gets it back, something she always seems to find endearing. There's a lot of 'I didn't mean to worry you', 'you're worth worrying about, now here's your favorite homemade walnut bread' stuff, all there in canon, just lifted from canon and transplanted into my fic.

Is this dom/sub stuff? I'm aroace so I've never been in a relationship, but I assumed "take care of yourself" "I will but I will call you a silly nickname over it" was regular relationship stuff. Or is it that the frequency of it makes it dom/sub stuff, and I'm just not grasping that because my neurodivergency is making me not read the social cues correctly? I was only recently diagnosed but this has been a problem for a long time, the whole line between normal and abnormal behavior, so I thought I'd ask you. You're much more well-read than I am and know a lot more about shipping dynamics and how they're tagged. I feel like you're an expert whose opinion carries a lot of conclusions-informed-by-knowledge and so your take could help me figure this out.

People who are doms or subs or write them, if you have a guide on this stuff, that'd be cool, too. I want to educate myself more so I know if I should tag something. After all, I can't get my story to people who want to read it if it doesn't show up in the tags they're searching for. Readers aren't mindreaders. It's on me to make sure they can get ahold of the things they're looking for. I just need to work around my own ADHD-addled brain to do it.

I think this is the usual pattern of demanding silly tags that would only make sense in that reader's own bookmarks.

Yes, caretaking and food control of various kinds can be a part of BDSM. No, your description of canon does not make it sound like this has obvious undertones.

Readers are going to have different interpretations. It's possible that other readers would agree with this one. I have my doubts. I suspect they're projecting. But sure, maybe other people would think there was some of that vibe.

However, if you did not intend the fic to read this way, I would not add the tag. This is not what the fic is about.

As for what this kind of thing can look like when it is intended as a dom/sub activity, the movie Secretary has a bunch of examples. She calls him on the phone to tell him what her family's dinner looks like that night; he gives her instructions about which things she can eat how much of. The way she acts while making that phone call makes it clear it's an exciting game to her. Another time, he tells her she's not allowed to cut herself anymore: he will provide what she needs.

Even if the characters are being playful, just nagging someone to do basic self care doesn't really come across as this. It's more charged when it's an intentional power exchange thing.

It's more like... hmm... if you and a friend agreed to LARP as characters for a day. Even if you were acting fairly normal and doing things you'd often do anyway, there would be this added extra vibe to it that someone who knew you well could probably detect.

It's not so much about the specific behaviors: it's about the extra meaning those people ascribe to them. If it doesn't seem like the canon characters think of this caretaking any specific way and you, as the fic author, don't see it that way, then I don't think it will generally read as a dom/sub thing to most readers.

65 notes · View notes

enstarriedownbad · 9 months

Text

Izumi Sena x F!reader

! Minors DNI

Genre: smut

Tags: dom!Izumi, reverse yandere (?), unrequited love (?), beach, rough, semi-public

Note: This is part 2 of my first Izumi smut fic link here

Plot: Trickstar and Knights invite you to the beach after you cleared the misunderstanding between you and Izumi. However, both of you don't know how to interact anymore. Maybe "having fun" at the beach together will fix your relationship?

Words: 4,084

By clicking on "show more," you acknowledge that you are 18+ and consent to read this fiction.

Your friends are playing board games in the shades of the beach umbrellas. And some others are playing beach volleyball, and then there's Ritsu. Sleeping. Makoto is playing the team sport, too. Apparently, his team just won the game. Izumi is witnessing a few of Makoto's teammates hugging him after winning. Yet somehow, Izumi doesn't feel jealous. Sure, he'd like to be part of the moment, but it feels platonic. He'd rather support him from the sides while wearing Trickstar merch or so. As for Leo, he's still true to himself, laughing out loud, teasing Tsukasa while they're playing Uno. But Izumi isn't looking at Leo right now. His eyes are drawn to someone else: you.

You seem busy playing with the other boys. Your smile looks radiant, even from afar. 'Who is it you are talking to?', he wonders. You only greeted him after you arrived, and now it seems you won't even look at him. What is it that he is feeling? Is it anger? Frustration, maybe? He needs to figure it out.

"What do you think you're doing?" Izumi asks you out of the blue. "Why are you..." he sighs. "You know what, just come and follow me."

You oblige. He brings you further apart from the rest of the group. Makoto and Leo exchange a silly "we did it" eye contact when seeing the two of you walk away on the sand, unaware of what happened last time.

It seems Izumi wants to talk to you on a one-to-one, even willing to walk a bit far away from the others to get some privacy. Thank goodness he finally takes action to have a chat with you. It has gotten really awkward between you two after last time. And a few weeks already passed without contacting each other.

You two get behind a rock on the beach. Izumi doesn't fail to make you feel intimidated as he corners you behind it, making your back's skin get in contact with the harsh material. Izumi even asserts himself even more by placing his arm right on top of you. It looks like there is no way out of this conversation...

"So you're just gonna pretend... Whatever. You are not fooling anyone, and you're definitely not fooling me," he says aggressively.

"What do you mean?" you ask timidly.

"You haven't even looked at me the entire day yet you said you like me?" he responds. "You kept smiling for the others, though. That's not what I call love."

"That's because..." you mutter.

"Because what? I can't hear you," he asks while getting his face closer to yours.

"Because I know you don't even like me back..." you reply. "So I don't know how to react around you."

"Hmm... Sounds like a lie to me," he doesn't back down. "I know how it feels to go through an unrequited love, yet you don't---"

"Do you really, though?" you cut him.

"What?" he replies while strongly staring at you.

"Do you really love someone romantically? For Makoto, or for Leo, it looks more like friendship, if anything."

Izumi looks down on you with a cold gaze.

"Really? Then, Miss I-know-better-than-you, go ahead and enlighten me," he sarcastically says, mad about the fact that you doubt his feelings.

You take a few seconds to think about your answer. Some waves hit the rock. Its sound is relaxing. The sun is not too bright, and the sky seems bluer than earlier. And the others can't see you thanks to the location. The setting looks perfect for this moment. You take your chance.

"When you love someone, you want to be with them all the time," you say.

"I know. That's why I even kidnapped Makoto once, even though I'm not really proud of it..."

"You want to make them smile," you say.

"Been there, done that. Why do you think I've been helping Leo after a certain event?"

"You want them to be only yours..."

"I agree. Is that why you're pissed off right now? Because the person I'm into is not you?"

"You feel flustered when they're too close to you..." you say while avoiding looking into his eyes.

"I kno-" Izumi stops himself. After hearing what you said, he takes a good look at you. He finally realizes that you are blushing right now and can't keep eye contact with him. And it is all his fault, as he put himself this close to you in order to intimidate you. It is no wonder you are all red. After all, you love him. And he knows that. Nonetheless, with your feelings being so obvious now, the man is wondering why he put himself in a situation like this. He's so close to the woman that likes him, plus it had to be in this position. How can he not be flustered? Of course, he is. He is a man, after all. He's no exception. He seems to be slightly blushing. He thinks you look stupid to be all awkward around him. But, he also thinks you look somewhat cute, and your swimsuit is definitely something that man likes to see. He takes a longer look at your outfit and body from up close.

Even before your last interaction in the hotel, Izumi realizes you weren't distant with him like he thought, but rather shy. And even more shy when it was just the two of you. Yet you were always so sweet to him.

Well. It looks like he is curious, -or just simply put- interested in you. But Izumi, being Izumi, he won't admit it to himself. He would rather lie to himself and to others about his true feelings because of his ego. Now, he is afraid the next thing you'll say will make him realize something. You better not say one more word.

You don't even notice the switch in the nature of Izumi's gaze as you stopped directly looking into his eyes. So, you continue to prove yourself to him.

"When you love them, you--" Izumi stops you from continuing your sentence as he suddenly kisses you.

He goes all the way in, with his tongue intertwining with yours. You let out a small noise from the surprise. Izumi continues passionately kissing you. He grabs you by the waist while keeping his pace as steady as possible. His grip on your body gets stronger, and his lips don't seem to want to leave yours. His knee finds its way between your thighs, grinding into your sensitive area. That's it. He has desires.

Izumi backs up, panting, looking at you with redness all over his cheeks. You are the same, sweating and looking at him with doe eyes. He just wanted to make you shut up. Surely, there could have been another way. But now, he... No. He doesn't want to review his opinion. The man assumes changing his mind would make him look dumb and indecisive, even though it would be the opposite. He would rather continue with his lie.

"That's only a fraction of the love you'll never get," he lies while unable to look at you in the eyes anymore. "That's how I would kiss a person I love. Is that enough proof for you now?"

You feel discouraged by his words right after he just did this to you out of the blue. 'That was how much he loves someone', you think, wishing that were you.

On the other hand, Izumi looks at you in disbelief, unaware of the nature of what he is feeling right now. Surely, he felt the same with whom he "loves", right? He just didn't notice it, right? Izumi starts doubting his feelings. But that's when his own body gives him a hint. Outside of the blushing, another compelling piece of evidence can be found: he's rock-hard at this very moment. And the object of his desires is right here, in front of him, expecting to be told to go to hell or so.

"Turn around," he says.

"Why?" you ask.

"Just do it."

You do as he says.

"Now put your hands in front of you."

You place your hands against the rock.

"You're really doing anything I ask you to, huh?" he says while pressing himself onto you from behind.

Now, you can definitely feel something poking against your back. You slightly turn your head around to face him.

"Hm... Don't get any wrong ideas," he whispers in your right ear. "But I'm like 'this' because of you. I can't go back to everyone in this state. You should take care of it since it's all your fault."

Everything is telling you that he got hard thinking of someone else while kissing you, but you don't even care right now, you just want Izumi.

"...Sure," you reply, knowing what will happen next.

Izumi doesn't wait for a second and lowers down the bottom part of your swimsuit, gets his cock out of his own, and places his tip at your entrance.

"I'm going to ravage your insides from behind. I'm guessing that's okay with you since you really are a..." he stops mid-way. "Since I already did it last time, right?"

"Yes...," you answer, somehow surprised that he only subtly insulted you compared to last time.

With his hands placed on both of your hips, Izumi slides himself inside you. It definitely hurts since just a minute ago, you weren't expecting him to take you from behind. But it feels good. It's so nice to be connected again. Your two bodies were longing for each other. Simply having him in you gets you aroused.

"Hm? Did you just get wet only from me penetrating you?" Izumi rhetorically asks. "I can't say I'm not flattered, though, but now I..." He doesn't finish his sentence but his dick speaks on his behalf, hardening inside you. "Then, I hope you're ready for what's coming."

Izumi begins ramming into your folds from behind while holding onto your hips. Every thrust is as hard as last time. You get fully wet in no time. His length presses against your sensitive spots every time he moves. You can't help but moan.

"Shhh, you don't want someone to hear us," Izumi tells you while fastening the pace.

Although you need to keep your voice down, feeling Izumi's hands on your skin, as well as his cock sketching your walls with his every thrust makes you let out some more high-pitched sounds.

"Izumi...!" you quietly moan.

To your surprise, Izumi doesn't tell you to stop and he even whimpers from pleasure as well. Small "ahhn"s or "mmnh"s keep leaving his mouth more and more frequently. You never knew faint sounds like these could sound so hot and provocative. His voice sounds so deep yet relaxing. His timbre, his pitch, everything about his voice makes you fall more deeply in love with him. His moans became your new favorite melody for sure.

Now, the sea is not the only wet noise you can hear: Izumi is making a mess out of you right now. What first started quite dry quickly became a mix of bodily fluids thanks to your shared lust. Both of you really seem into it. Every time he thrusts in and out of you, you feel yourself losing it. You want to leave everything to him. You want him to go even rougher.

"Ahh... mmh," Izumi moans. "I'm close... mnh... Y/N," he says as you can feel his precum coming out, making your cunt even more slippery. "Yea just like that..." he groans.

The fact that he finally pronounced your name while moaning with pleasure was such a welcomed sound to your ears that it made your body tighten around his cock. Izumi keeps fucking you from behind, with his thighs aggressively bumping against your cheeks. The man keeps hitting your cervix with his dick as if he were trying to claim more of you. You feel your mind losing it, approaching your climax as well.

"Izumi... ah Izumi... Izumi..." you moan gradually louder. "You can... do it inside... Today is a safe day."

"hahh... Really? Then, I won't pass on this offer," he tells you while groaning and thrusting quicker.

You arch your back from the pleasure, making him bend over you as a result. From this angle, you can definitely see his hips thrusting in and out of you rapidly.

"mhhn. I'm going to... cum..." Izumi says while giving his last thrusts.

"ha hahn~ Izumi!" you moan out loud while cumming.

With his dick pressed against your end, Izumi strengthens his grip on your hips, moves your body even closer to his, and has an orgasm inside your walls. His semen feels you up from the inside. The sensation is so exquisite that your mind goes numb for a minute, only able to concentrate on his cum.

Once he is done with his orgasm, your heat keeps his member warm, still feeling very aroused. After he finally pulls out, your legs get so weak from the intercourse that you fall on all fours on the floor without Izumi's support.

"Don't tell me that you thought I would be done with you in only one round," he says while grinning and going on his knees behind you. "You want to be taken doggy style, huh? Typical of you, if I may. But that side of you is also making me..."

You assume he wanted to say "mad" or "disgusted," but he meant something else, something that has to do with how much he wants you right now, already rutting against you.

Izumi quickly sinks into your heat again, not able to wait.

"I'm gonna put my hands over your mouth if you can't be quiet. I don't want you to moan my name out loud again like you did earlier," he says. "Not that I mind, but..." he whispers as he puts his hand over your mouth. "I don't want other people to hear us."

"Mhh," you can only reply as your ability to speak just got restricted.

While the lower part of his body is busy messing up with your folds and making a mess out of you, Izumi uses his hands to play with your body. With his other hand that is not over your mouth, your loved one uses his fingers to brush over your back all the way down, making you feel all tingly. His hand caressing your skin makes you feel so good. You two were already 'one' after Izumi put his length inside of you, but somehow, having his skin against your own makes this moment feel even more intimate.

Then, Izumi pauses and gets his mouth close to your ear.

"Prepare yourself," he whispers in a deep timbre.

The man bends his back over you, trapping you below him as he resumes his thrusts, way more aggressively, with a hand on your hips. Now, the loudest sound is neither the sea, nor the radio music from the beach or your voice, but the wet noises coming out of you both.

"Mhhn," you mumble under his hand as he's pounding you from behind.

"Don't come now," he tells you as he moves his hand over your thighs, reaching for your clit.

Once he gets there, the male begins rubbing it along with his rapid thrusts, making you unable to resist long. You can't help but moan even though Izumi's hand remains firmly against your mouth.

"Just a bit longer..." he says while enjoying your faint noises.

While you struggle not to come immediately even though your body longs for it, Izumi doesn't go soft on you and continues going harder and harder against your sensitive spots.

"oh yea..." Izumi moans against his breaths. "Just like that..."

All your brain can focus on is Izumi, you want him to let it all out right now. His close embrace is also making your body temperature reach high grounds. Tears are forming in your eyes from the pleasure.

"Nhg. I'm... gonna... cum," Izumi says as his shaft is hitting against your cervix as if it were a punching ball.

Your moans are vibrating against the palm of his hand.

"Hahh, Y/N...!"

Following his moans, Izumi cums deep inside you, releasing all of his semen in your womb. More than just filling you up again, the feeling is even better. And you are not the only one moaning, Izumi definitely is, too. 'ah's and its variations keep leaving his mouth.

"Good..." he whispers.

You can feel his cock twitching, letting even more sperm enter you. You thought you couldn't get any hotter after Izumi shared his body heat with yours in a late summer afternoon, but his liquid is definitely on the hotter side, warming you even more. Maybe you feel a bit too hot now.

As soon as Izumi pulls out, the two of you lay on the sand, panting. That was quite the experience for sure. He was not kidding when he said he'd ravage your insides.

Izumi unconsciously looks at you with a devoted gaze, to which you return the same love stare. But Izumi only realizes now that you two have been silently staring at each other for a solid minute.

"I-" he doesn't know where to start, "Let's go back to the others. We've been out for a while now. They may be wondering where we are."

"Yea, but give me a second to..." you say while panting, "rest a bit..."

Izumi recognizes that you are tired. Specifically, because of him. He finally lets a bit of his pride go, 'just for now,' he tells himself. But you know how Izumi is with those he loves, right? His affection shows no limit. And it's the same for you now.

Izumi stands up and holds out his hand to you. He sighs.

"Come on, let's cool off in the water. I'll help you," he tells you nonchalantly.

He's taken aback by the fact that he wants to take care of you, as if it was a natural thing. But by now, he thinks he has an idea of what he feels for you.

You take his hand, and the two of you walk toward the sea. Izumi helps you get in the water, slowly. Your body and your legs specifically are so tired that you trip over.

Luckily for you, Izumi was looking out for you and caught you before you fell head-first into the water. Looks like you are now in his embrace, with his arms clasping you, pressing your head against his chest.

The sea is so refreshing. His tight hug feels safe. This moment is so soothing. But you know it will not last long. After all, he told you he doesn't like you and did all this to prove a point. If anything, it hurts to love him. You want to enjoy each and every moment you share with him, even if it is bittersweet at the end.

"Izumi..." you initiate the dialogue.

"Hm?" he replies gently for once.

"Can we stay like this just a bit longer?" you ask as you cling to him, not wanting to overthink about how he doesn't reciprocate your feelings.

It doesn't take him long to decide. Of course he wants to be close to you right now. Because on his side, he realized the true nature of his inquisitiveness toward you.

"I can do that for you, Y/N," he replies gently while obviously sounding enthusiastic about the idea, holding you tighter.

The two of you stay like this for a moment, enjoying each other's presence and feeling your fling growing stronger.

The sun is about to set now. Maybe a quarter of an hour passed?

"... ...Y/N", you vaguely hear.

"...YN.."

"Mh?" you reply a bit groggy after resting against Izumi for a while.

"Maybe we should go back now. The others must be wondering where we went."

"Okay..." you reply while you two get out of the water. "Ah, it's so cold!" you say as you leave the warm water only to be met with a cold wind.

You shiver from the temperature difference and put your arms around you. One look was enough for Izumi.

"You wait in the water, I'll quickly get you a towel back there," he kindly orders as he goes back to where Trickstar and the rest of Knights are.

While waiting in the water flow, you see a few men approaching you. They look a bit too enthusiastic, probably drunk.

"Guys, this girl over there, she's pretty cute right? She's mine," you can hear in the distance.

"Not if I seduce her before you" another one replies. "I can do that without even trying. And you got no rizz anyway."

"Then, let's see which one of us pulls her first."

"Hi there," one of them reaches out to you as they get closer, "are you alone? Wanna join us?"

"... Sorry but--"

"That's not how you approach a lady, dumbass. Let me show you how to do it," one says to his friends while cutting you off. "So, miss, do you have a boyfriend?"

"I... I don't," you reply, after remembering that although you seem closer to Izumi after your discussion, he definitely made sure to let you know that you don't own his heart.

"Then, how about I keep you company? You and I, let's have a nice time together at the beach," he asks.

"I don't know about that, I came with my friends," you reply while getting anxious as you are a bit away from the group.

"Hmm. I don't see anyone around here right now... So come with us. We want to have fun with you," another one suggests.

He even goes as far as grabbing your arm to get you out of the water.

"Come on, quit being so tense and follow us," he says as he gets you on the sand.

"... What are you doing to my girlfriend? Do you want to die?" Izumi says as he pulls the guy away from you and places himself between you and the other men. "She's already with me. Back. Off. Now," he shoos them away with a death stare.

After they leave, he turns around to face you.

"Geez, I leave you alone for two minutes, and you already need my help?" he complains while wrapping you in a towel. "I don't want you to get a cold," he says affectionately.

You look at him in awe. There is no way you would accept someone taking him from you when he acts so considerate towards you right now.

"Izumi?" you initiate.

"Mh?"

"I love you," you confess again. "I will try to win your heart, even if it is taken right now. "

"Y/N, I think I--"

"So this is where you were!" a voice says in the distance.

"We went looking for you two after you left for so long," Makoto appears before you.

"Yuu-kun!" Izumi calls out to him.

"Wait. Izumi-san and Y/N-chan," he smirks. "Seeing you two like this, do you happen to... To be a thing?" your friend asks, hopeful, as he tries to help you get closer to Izumi.

"Me and Y/N...?" Izumi replies. "We..."

Before he gets to reply, some of the other guys join you.

"N-never mind, I was just joking," he brushes it off, not wanting to put you or Izumi on a spot in front of everyone.

"Then~ Now that we've found them, let's go back to our hotel! ☆" Leo suggests.

"Who is gonna carry Ritsu-senpai to the HOTEL, though?" Tsukasa asks.

"Don't tell me that guy is still sleeping?" Izumi replies, annoyed.

"Yea... Even though the sun is about to set, Ritsu still feels a bit tired after being exposed to the sun for so long. I guess I'll have to carry him on my back," Mao sighs.

"Waa, Sari, you're such a good friend! ☆" Subaru adds.

"Then, let's go back to Sakuma and the others," Hokuto concludes.

Your little group begins leaving the area. The others walk in front of you. You and Izumi are behind them.

"What about you, Y/N? Don't you feel tired?" Izumi asks, sweetly. "Here, take my hand," the one you love says as he hands out his hand to you again.

You gladly accept his offer. You two walk hand in hand as the sunset colors the sea in orange hues.

Next chapter preview: "Eh..? What are you doing here Y/N? This isn't your room."

"I know."

"And why are you still dressed like this?"

(Could change)

HIIIIIIIIIIIIII 👤💛✨️🔆✴️💫

I missed yall!!!! Sorry, I was so busy irl omg wtf! 👤

So that was the long awaited part 2! Guess what? I'm gonna write a part 3 too 👤💖 The plot is so fun to write for honestly (or more like, we can fix Izumi.) 👤🖤

Next is gonna be Leo, or Kuro, or part 3, idk!!! 👤⁉️ Tell me which one you've been waiting for, and I'll write it soon enough 👤‼️

Love yall 👤💯❤️

#izumi sena x reader #enstars smut #enstars x reader #izumi sena smut #enstars x you #ensemble stars x y/n #izumi sena x reader smut #enstars thirst #enstars thirsts #ensemble stars smut #ensemble stars x you #enstars x y/n #ensemble stars x reader #enstars x reader smut #ensemble stars x reader smut #enstars x female reader #enstars fanfic

245 notes · View notes

factual-fantasy · 3 months

Text

28 ASKS! THANKS AGAIN YALL!! 🥰💥

I've thought about this a bit actually :00

Way back when the crew was only four people, (Seafoam, Octo, Ellie and Louis) they got caught in a great storm while out at sea. Becuase there was only four of them, they didn't have enough hands on deck to control the ship.

Blue Beauty saw this ship clearly struggling and in danger so she helped guide the ship back to calmer waters. It was her help alone that prevented the ship from sinking. Seafoam thanked her profusely. She hadn't been treated so kindly before.. So she secretly followed them around for a while before making herself more known and officially joining the crew. :}

XD I imagine that wouldn't fare well for Blue Beauty-

XD Foxy would be like "..Am I malfunctioning or are those cookie talking--"

Hmm.. I assume the textures all relate to the food/animal they're based on. Or maybe their personality..? <:0 I don't know!

OOO these are so good!! Thank you! :DD

XDD Its really tough for me ngl. I've never been the best with names-

@luna-purple454 (Post in question)

The Undyne one is a bit vague.. I pictured the group has a run in with an Undyne. She is able to maybe separate Papyrus from the group and even capture him. Maybe her Papyrus is dead or he's on the other side of the underground. For one reason or another she knows this is "not Papyrus". So she questions this imposter to his face.

..But Papyrus is silent. Its been so long since he's heard Undyne's voice.. he suddenly cant speak..

Now the Alphys is actually an older character in the AU. I mentioned that at some point early on the gang found an AU with an old Alphys. This Alphys had made a bunch of robotic arms for Monster Kid in all different sizes.

Well since MK is all grown up, some of the smaller arm models don't fit him anymore. So she gave some to Goner Kid! I didn't really have intentions for her to come back into the AU in any major way. I just felt like drawing her :)

Oooo that sounds cool!! :DD

ASKJANJ SALTY TENTACLES XDDD THATS AMAZING!

Also thank you so much!! :DD

XDD Well "actively", I don't tend to dip my toes in that fandom too much anymore. I've dealt with a surprising amount of uncomfy stuff there so I'd rather mostly stay away from it-

But I have drawn a decent amount for it none the less! And I'm glad you like what you see so far! <XDD

Oh boy, the Jevil gang wouldn't stay there then! <XDD

@astaherussy

I unfortunately still to this day have not watched the Mario movie. So I cannot answer the first part of that question :( I think I have a problem upstairs-

As for Peach or Daisy breaking down, I believe they would approach them the same way Luigi did Rosalina :00 Very gently and try to figure out what's wrong 🥺

@neo-metalscottic

Thank you!! :DD I'm glad you liked what you saw! And I'll keep Jevil and the gang in mind! :))

AND YESSSS THE CALICO JACK IDEA WAS SO GOOD!! Thank you so much!! :D

And once again- thank you for the compliments to my Toadsworth drawing! I was rather proud of that one! XD When it comes to his relationship with Peach,, that is a good question.. I was thinking it was an Alfred Pennyworth situation. Kind'a a royal advisor turned father figure situation.? :0 He was running the Kingdom while Peach was gone, and he was overjoyed to see her returned safe and sound!

(Post in question)

XD Just wait till you find my Super mario bros tag and all the comics and angst under it

(Also thank you!! :}}} )

@rotting-glitter-corpse (Link in ask)

I NEED!! TO LIVE THERE!!! RIGHT NOW!! 💥💥

Oh man, he'd do everything he could. I'm not sure what kind of demands he would make to the rest of the group. But if there was something they could do to help he would absolutely demand they to it :0

@fawncr33k

<XD I don't know if Seafoam would want to have kids at his age- but its a good question. I'm not sure what a child between them would look like, considering that Blue is a mermaid- :0

@pinkbomb08 (Post in question)

My Welcome Home AU is kind'a all over the place becuase of some changes I'm making to Sally and Poppy.. <XD But I can talk a bit about Julie! She hasn't changed much--

The idea I have for Julie is that her and her sisters are actually these huge grotesque monsters.. much more horrific looking than they are in canon. Anytime anyone saw them they'd run away screaming.. Julie grew up knowing that she was scary and people are afraid of her becuase of her appearance..

Now at some point when she was little, she discovered the Neighborhood. She would see Wally, Barnaby, Poppy and Eddie walking around every now and again. She wasn't sure why.. but she was so fascinated by them and their lives. Something about the way they walked, the way the talked, how they dressed, how they sounded, how they looked. She loved all of it.

She was so fascinated by the Neighborhood and she dreamed of becoming apart of it one day. But she knew that she couldn't show up looking like.. this.. so she used the Neighbors as a reference and began to drastically alter her appearance.

No one has horns, so she was able to greatly shorten hers and make them look more.. cute! All the residents have 2 eyes so she shall as well! Poppy has pretty eyelashes.. so shall she! She cant get rid of her tail but she can make it shorter and cuter! Wally, Eddie and Barnaby all have 4 fingers. So she shall as well!

Now the feet.. She never saw Wally or Eddie without shoes on.. but Barnaby is always bare foot. So feet paws she shall have! A lot of her form was transfered to her mane-hair! To her hair- :DD

Now she was trying to get her legs to be shaped more like Wally's. So she altered them a bit and began to practice walking. But she tripped and fell, letting out a yelp!

Someone heard her, and came looking.. Since she couldn't use her new legs yet- she couldn't escape-

..Poppy found her. .

Julie hadn't completed her transformation from "monster" to "person" yet! So when Poppy saw her she thought she blew it. Surly Poppy would run away screaming upon seeing this horrible monster.. Julie started to cry.. but Poppy didn't run. She saw this poor little child covered in mud and with a scraped knee. She quickly jumped into action, "Oh dear! You poor thing, here sweetie let me help you up," Poppy guided Julie out of the woods. After she was cleaned and patched, they talked a bit about Julies situation.

"Where are your parents, dear?"

"..I don't have parents.."

Suddenly Poppy had adoption papers in her hand XD Huh, wonder how those got there-

(Post in question)

I mean... I got my skin back at least.. 🥺

thh... thank yoiuuuu!!! :33 ✨💖✨

I don't know.. is it offensive in the games for a character to be called a cracker? Are there cracker characters?? <:00

Oooo I'll keep this in mind! :00 Thank you!

@djadecutie

AKJJSD CRIMINAL XDDD

@storylover2

<XD Oh man, I looked through some doodle dumps and found I drew that creature at least 20 times. None of which looked the way I saw it in my head.💀I gave up on drawing Chain Chomp a looong time ago.. 💔💔

(Thank you for the suggestion though! :000 )

I'm not sure <XD Google doesn't want to tell me what real seafoam tastes like. Its only showing me what the candy seafoam tastes like!

I cant really remember much of that movie,, so I'm not sure how they would interact with the residents there. But a world made of candy? I'm sure they'd feel right at home! XD

@beryl-shade

Oh yeah for sure :0 that could be what happened to Tuna! 😱

(Also sorry for not including the gifs! There wasn't a way I could paste them into this ask post :((( )

@yourstrulylightstar283

Aww! That's adorable! :D

#my response #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run ocs #my ocs #super mario bros #welcome home #undertale #deltarune

57 notes · View notes

ahundredtimesover · 1 year

Note

we need a please love me argument or something drabble from after they got married and confessed their love for each other!!11!

Hi, they're back! Just a reminder to think of OC's personality bc this is already a 'fight' for her hehe. I don't know how this is bc I'm not in my best form but I still hope you enjoy 🥰

Title: Please Love Me Bonus 07 - The Fight

WC: 14,953

Tags/Warnings: angst; mentions of pregnancy; hospital setting/talks of illness that might be inaccurate (I just based some off my own experience)

Series Masterlist

It started small.

It was a fleeting moment that you barely missed it - one exhale and you felt that knot in your chest that once was familiar. You brushed it off, not thinking much of it. It wasn’t the first time, yet all those other times, once was enough and it didn’t happen again.

But this time wasn’t like that; this time, you felt it once, then another time, then another, the long intervals between knots getting shorter and shorter.

You try to even out your breathing, grounding yourself so you can listen more to what your body is saying, to what your heart is saying. It starts to work as you count the seconds and the minutes because it starts to go away. It may have taken a lot longer, but just like those other times, this one ends, too.

You’re unable to process what just happened as your phone rings, your husband’s sigh greeting you on the other end.

“Hey, Kook. Everything okay?”

“No. One of the associates gave me wrong figures and I overlooked some elements for my presentation tomorrow,” he groans. “I was gonna stay up late in the office but I’m too pissed off. Are you still at the studio? Can I pick you up?”

“Yeah, I’m just working on my last design,” you reply, already packing up. “And sure. I can call your favorite Japanese restaurant and we can pick up the food on the way home. Is that okay?”

“Yes please. That’s what I really need right now. And you. Be there in 15.”

“I’ll see you, hun. And chin up, you’ll be okay.”

He hums his goodbye and you feel the tiredness from his voice, and the earlier ache in your chest is now replaced by worry for your husband.

Jungkook rarely lets the toxicity of his job affect him, so hearing him frustrated is something you’re not used to. You feel for him, as the new project he’s taken on is a big one, and you just know he wants nothing more than to prove himself to his family this once. He’s begun having bigger responsibilities after all, and he’s said as much that he wants to step away from his brother’s shadow and be his own self, show that he’s just as capable and can get things done his way, too.

A small smile tugs on your face, knowing that a good meal and some encouragement from you might do the trick. You call the restaurant and head outside once he messages that he’s nearby.

Mr. Yu, the chauffeur, stops the car and Jungkook exits, enveloping you in a hug and mumbling his hi. He doesn’t even give you time to properly greet him back, as his body curls into yours and you feel him exhale - a deep one, as if he’s been holding onto his breath the whole day.

“Hi,” you smile, kissing his nose. “The food will be ready in a while. Let’s pick it up and we can talk, okay?”

Jungkook nods and leads you inside, immediately taking your hand like it’s his lifeline. He asks you about your day first and you narrate how it went - ocular of a hall you’ll be designing and then art class for the kids in the afternoon. Then he talks about his - the tense meeting with the staff member who gave him outdated information, the conversation with his father about the expectations for this upcoming project, and having to skip lunch to help his Japan team troubleshoot something.

“I’m exhausted and my head has been hurting all day but I’ve got so much to do,” he exhales deeply before falling into your lap, your hand reflexively combing his long locks that has him moaning at your touch.

“Hmm. And how much coffee have you had today?”

“Five cups,” he answers with his eyes closed, his breathing steadying now as you start to massage his temples.

“That’s 3 cups too much, hun,” you say softly; he said he’d regulate his caffeine intake and you know he’s been trying.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he sighs. “It’s just been tough, but this is nice. Let’s eat then I can work in the dining room while you watch Masterchef or something?”

You hum your yes, saying you’ve actually got some design studies to work on so you can both work together downstairs.

And that’s what happens as you put away your dirty plates after dinner and settle in your respective spots. Jungkook likes to work with you around when he’s at home, only staying in his office off your bedroom when he’s pulling an all-nighter. Having you close calms him down, he’s always said, as your soothing voice and presence give him the most comfort, even if it’s just a quick look at your expression as you watch TV or your sweet laughter or your tender words.

“You look serious there, babe,” he looks over at you from the dining table. “You’ll get wrinkles if you frown too much.”

“I can’t find the right art piece for this one wall,” you groan. “This is gonna keep me up.”

“Maybe you just need to sleep on it. I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” he comforts.

“Hmm, maybe,” you say, your body slowly giving up as it yearns for the bed, chest pains already forgotten. “Join me?”

You walk towards him and sit on his lap as he asks you to, your arms wrapping around his neck.

“Probably in 2 hours or so. I wanna get this presentation finished tonight,” he pouts, apologetic.

“Okay. I’ll wash up and go to bed. Rest soon, okay?”

He holds you a little longer for his goodnight kiss, tickling you before letting you go.

You walk to your room and fall asleep right away, suddenly feeling as if you’d run a marathon today when your body hits the bed. It seems to have been happening more frequently, though - feeling incredibly tired at the end of the day, whether you had a full-packed schedule or a light one. You went to a boutique store yesterday and painted at home then felt dizzy and faint by the evening.

It’s 4 hours later when you suddenly wake up, a mix of that knot on your chest and shortness of breath almost jerking you off the bed. But you catch yourself, turning to the side to see if you’d somehow disturbed Jungkook’s sleep, but you’re surprised to find he’s not there. You see light coming from the office and your husband’s mumbling, and so you get up and walk over to him.

“Kook, it’s past 2,” you stand by the door and sleepily call out to him. “Come to bed.”

“Baby, what are you doing up?” He turns to you with a frown, his long locks almost covering the glasses over his eyes.

“Just woke up. It’s hard to sleep without you,” you frown back.

“Sorry. I’m finishing up already,” he turns again towards his laptop.

“You can do that tomorrow. Just wake up early but sleep now. You’ve had a long day, come on.”

With you standing behind him and your arms around his neck, you pepper his cheeks with kisses to further convince him, knowing you need to shower him with affection so he’d listen to you.

And it works, as he chuckles and turns his laptop off. He heads to the bathroom to wash up while you lay in bed facing his side as you regulate your breathing again, feeling the tightness subside with every set of breaths.

He lies down next to you and kisses your lips before you turn around so your back faces him, his arms enveloping you, with him pulling you as close as he possibly can. Jungkook buries his head in your neck and finds his peace there.

“It’s hard to sleep without this, too,” he hums. “Love you. See you in my dreams.”

It started small, like it always does.

A pinch in the muscle - one, two, three seconds longer than usual; one, two, three instances more than what you’ve been having. You try to take a breath, knowing it’s what’s always worked, but it doesn’t this time. This time, your chest feels tight, too, like something is keeping you from breathing, like you’re gasping for air in the large space of the art studio.

“Hey, do you need some help to pack up?” The teacher for the next class asks; you can already hear the giggles of her little students not far away.

You try to pick up your tools from the desk but your hands and arms feel numb. This will take time, you think, so you smile at her and nod, letting her put away some of the palettes that your kids have left behind. You walk slowly, unable to fully feel your legs, too, and that’s when you start to panic.

“Everything okay?” She looks at you worriedly. “You look a little pale.”

“Oh? Just tired, I guess,” you fake a smile. “I’ll just, uh…”

“Rest, ___. You’ve been working hard on your project and your exhibition. You don’t want all that to catch up to you.”

Too late, you tell yourself, as the helplessness that once was familiar starts to overtake you. You just nod and assure her, then fortunately manage to walk out the street for fresh air and take some medicine. You’re relieved that those at least work, lessening the pain that you’re feeling.

But you know you’re not out of the woods yet, and so you raise your arm to hail a cab, thankful that the hospital is only a 15-minute drive away.

You settle in the backseat, ready to dial Jungkook’s number when you read the text he’d sent an hour ago - I don’t know why I’m so nervous, babe. I’ve barely eaten anything all day. But thanks. I’ll let you know how it goes.

You’d messaged him earlier, wishing him well for his presentation today, and you know how much this means to him. He’s worked so hard on this; it’s a big project and the directors have got their eyes on him. There’s no way you’ll add to the stress that he’s been experiencing for the last few weeks.

It’s a little past 2 and he’s set to present a quarter before 3. His palms are probably already sweating as he dries them on his shaking legs. He’s never been nervous for any of soccer matches even when he was a teenager, but you’d understand if this is the one thing that’s making him lose his cool a little bit; he may never directly say it but you know he just wants to impress the big bosses, and that includes his father and yours.

You decide against calling him for now. Your breathing has evened out already, and you still think it’s just one of those moments and there’s nothing to worry about. You were always told that this could still happen, after all, but that doesn’t necessarily mean a relapse. It happened a few years ago and all you did was have a change in medication and all was fine after. Like then, this may as well be just a minor thing that you can easily get over on your own. You’ll call Jungkook after you know more about what’s happening to you, knowing he’ll be asking anyway, and not giving him an answer immediately will just scare him.

The emergency room has less people than you expected, although you can say you’re probably the calmest out of all the patients there. Given, you’re in one piece and not puking your guts out so you believe you’re fine, but the attending physician doesn’t seem convinced, as you narrate what you’re feeling.

“Your heartbeat is irregular and your blood pressure is quite low,” she informs you after doing the basics. She looks through your record and confirms your condition. “No relapse since your surgery 15 years ago,” she reads. “No reported abnormalities, no alarming findings… but these are still from last year.”

“Yes, I’m due for my annual check up in 2 months,” you say, as you sit on the hospital bed.

“Well, seems like you’re due now,” she hums, excusing herself to make a call then returning to you. “Dr. Kwon is just finishing with surgery so he’ll see you after, but I’ll have you run some tests already. We’ll call you for x-ray in a while. We’ll take blood samples as well just to be sure.”

You nod, suddenly feeling nervous. These tests are routinary for you at this point; you take it every year every time you have your check-up, the one you’ve been having since the surgery that corrected your heart over a decade ago.

But you’ve never had to come back to the hospital out of your usual schedule ever since you fully recovered. Because any pain you’d felt since then was never serious; it never lingered, it never left you feeling breathless or numb. It never got you feeling weak, and it definitely never had you feel this anxious because it had never hurt this way.

It’s 3:30 by the time you finish filling up all the forms, and though you know nothing more than an irregular heartbeat and low blood pressure, you decide to send Jungkook a text to let him know where you are, knowing his presentation would be done by now. But right as you’re about to, the technician calls your name for the x-ray, and it’s not until several minutes later when you get your phone back and decide to just give him a call.

He doesn’t pick up after the third try, so you go for your next option and call Junghyun, as he knows that you only ever call when something is up.

“Hey, ___. You okay?” He answers.

“Hi. Is Jungkook still presenting?” Your voice quivers.

“He’s done but he’s somewhere in front answering questions,” Junghyun responds.

“Did he do well?” You ask, wanting to know.

“He was really nervous but everyone was impressed,” the older man smiles. “Were you the one calling him? He left his phone in his seat and I saw it light up.”

“Yeah, I, uh… Once he’s free, can you just let him know that I’m in the ER? My chest felt tight and—”

“You’re what?” He almost yells, his voice in a panic. “What happened? How are you feeling now?”

“I’m fine… I think,” you sigh. “It was just chest pains. I’ll see Dr. Kwon in a while then I’ll know more.”

“Fuck, okay. Who’s with you?”

“Just me.”

There’s a pause in the other end. “What are you doing now?”

“Waiting for the next tests. Can you, uh, can you let Jungkook know once he’s done there?”

“I’m telling him now, ___. You’re in the emergency room and he needs to be there with you.”

“Okay,” your voice shrivels, not used to Junghyun’s authoritative tone. “I’m being called for my ECG. I’ll, uh, I’ll be waiting for him.”

Junghyun drops the call and returns to the conference room. He immediately walks to his brother and whispers what you’d said.

Jungkook’s eyes widen in shock, worry and distress painting them. He quickly excuses himself and runs out the door, leaving the older man to explain to their father and yours what had happened, both of whom panic as well and make calls.

It’s another red light that Jungkook beats, and he makes it to the hospital in 15 minutes, almost half of the usual time it takes to get there from his office. He asks around the ER where you are, and he’s directed to a room where he finds you lying in bed, looking perfectly normal, save for your furrowed brows as you seem to be answering messages on your phone.

“Baby!” He exclaims, rushing towards you and taking you in his arms. “What happened? What hurts?”

“Hey, honey,” you look up at him and smile nervously. “I’m fine, I just…”

“Babe, you can’t be fine when you’re here. Your check-up isn’t due in 2 months. What… what brought you here?”

“I was, uh, I was having—”

“___,” the familiar voice of Dr. Kwon calls out for you, prompting you to turn to him. “I wish I could say I’m happy to see you before our scheduled check-up, but it’s never a good thing seeing a patient here before I’m supposed to.”

“Hi,” you smile, returning his hug. “I suppose it isn’t. But I didn’t know what to do. It was getting too painful.”

“Tell me what happened,” he instructs.

And so you do, telling him of the times you’d experienced this since your last meeting, and how it had hurt too much earlier, forcing you to come here. Jungkook holds your hand the entire time, and you’re immersed in your narration that you miss the way his jaws clench and unclench as he listens to your stories.

Clearly this isn’t the first time it’s happened, although it’s the first time that he’s hearing about it. It seems like you’ve been experiencing this and chose not to tell him.

“What do you think may have triggered it?” Dr. Kwon asks.

“I don’t really know,” you shrug. “I mean, I’ve sort of been doing the same things - working at the firm, doing my own pieces, teaching art classes… just focused on my regular job.”

“Looks like it’s 2 jobs too many,” he responds, his eyebrow arching the way that doctors do when they catch you doing something you shouldn’t.

“I rest and exercise and take my medication,” you counter. “All the work is fine. It’s an imperfect heart we’re working with, you know?” You giggle, trying to diffuse the tension.

Dr. Kwon just shakes his head and returns to his records. “So you’ve got the x-ray and ECG done. You’ll have blood tests after this then we can do the 2D echo in the evening after I schedule it. I’ll need you to be confined for the other tests.”

“What other tests? Can’t I come back tomorrow and do them then?” You ask, not really keen on spending the night at the hospital.

“It’ll be easier to monitor you from here, especially since the pain seems recurring. But I’ll schedule the stress test and MRI tomorrow morning so you can go home right after,” he responds. “Better ask someone to pack you and your husband some clothes. I’ll have the nurse pick you up to bring you to your room; just wait here.”

You nod as Jungkook lets go of your hand.

“You’ve had 2 tests done already? What time did you get here?” He asks, his voice low and disappointed.

“Around 2:30,” you respond casually.

Jungkook feels his own heart rate shoot up. It’s 4PM, and he’s sure it was just half an hour ago when his brother had cut off their discussions to tell him that you’d called about your whereabouts. The fact that you didn’t call him - your husband - much earlier is making him incredibly upset. He wants to ask you why you’d delayed it, why you’ve been keeping all this from him, when you planned on telling him if it didn’t get this bad.

But knowing you, you’d pick up on this, and he doesn’t want to add to you feeling any more pain that you apparently have been experiencing, so he takes a breath and lets things go for now, and he just nods.

He gazes at you looking pale and nervous, and he tries to think of how you may be feeling - back in the hospital when you’d believed everything was already okay.

“Baby,” he says, cupping your face so you’d look at him. “We have to believe that things are fine, alright? That this isn’t serious. Worrying too much might make things worse.”

They’re things he doesn’t fully believe in himself. He doesn’t know what’s going on. He never experienced this with you; he hadn’t even known about your condition until 3 years ago, and he doesn’t know how you are when you’re in pain and what you need him to do or be for you. But he has to put aside his own concerns because this is about you, and the only thing he knows to be right now is strong so you can take that strength from him, too.

You smile, much more genuinely than you did earlier, and Jungkook thinks it’s a good first step.

“I’ll be okay, hun. Sorry I pulled you out of your meeting. Junghyun said that you did well, though,” you say, pulling him into a hug, your arms finally wrapping around his waist while his envelopes around yours.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t really matter. You were here in pain while I was doing my presentation when I could’ve been with you,” he replies, trying to temper his voice. “I could’ve screwed up or completely missed it for all I care.”

“Nonsense, Kook,” you turn to him again. “You’ve been working so hard on that. I managed to get here on my own.”

You rest your head on his torso, not seeing his hardened and helpless face at how you casually dismiss what you’re experiencing and talk about his work like it’s all that matters when you’re the one in the hospital right now.

You still should’ve called, he wants so badly to say. I would’ve come here right away. But he decides against it. He was never good at bottling his feelings; he supposes he needs to learn that from you. He does it anyway, knowing that this isn’t the time nor place to get mad at you for it.

“Kook, can you be the one to talk to my mother?” You ask, giving him your phone. “She’s been calling and I’m too dizzy to rehash everything.”

“Okay, I will,” he responds, guiding you to lay on the bed and letting you take a nap first.

He calls your mother, then his, then your brother and sister, and then Nari and Yeji. There are so many people to update about your status but he pushes through it, despite the same words of you experiencing pain and needing to be monitored for the night becoming harder and harder for him to say.

“She seems fine, just looks tired as of now,” Jungkook informs each one. “We’ll know more tomorrow.”

They’ll drop by in the evening, they all say, and he’s thankful that there’ll at least be distractions, and he won’t have to be with you alone for long. He supposes that’s better, otherwise he’ll be tempted to push for answers on why you kept all this from him.

He calls Mr. Yu and Mrs. Na and instructs them to prepare your clothes for your stay and bring them over to the hospital. “Please buy a box of macarons on your way here,” he tells the chauffeur. “And her chamomile tea as well.”

Jungkook sits on the chair next to you and watches you take your nap. He sees you take deep breaths and he can sense your struggle, causing him to worry once more. You catch yourself and jerk awake.

“Was it hurting again?” He asks.

“A little,” you respond, raising yourself up off the bed.

“Just keep breathing. Here, drink some water.”

You follow as he says, and that’s when the nurse arrives and informs you that the VIP room is ready. You’re led there by wheelchair - an all too familiar scene - and Jungkook helps you lie down on the bed. The nurse takes blood samples and informs you of the scheduled test in 2 hours then leaves you right after.

“Tell me about your presentation,” you urge your husband. “What did they say?”

Work is the last thing that Jungkook wants to be talking about right now. He hates thinking about being in that room while you were here and all alone. You smile tenderly, as if you really want to know what took place, so he forces himself to think about it.

“That the project proposal was well-designed and well-thought out. I set out the plans and the entire process and got to show the expected outcomes and return of investment,” he explains. “They said it was sound and profitable, and that they were surprised I pulled it off on my own.”

“It’s silly that they still doubt you,” you frown. “Of course you’d pull it off. You’re innovative and incredibly hardworking, honey. They should know that by now.”

“Nah, I'm used to it,” he shrugs. “They’d take every chance they get to remind me that I’m not my brother.”

“And you aren’t, because you’re your own self with your strengths and own conviction. And don’t tell Junghyun, but you’re definitely funnier.”

Jungkook manages to chuckle a little, and your smile grows at the sound. “That last bit is definitely true,” he hums. “Thanks, babe. Though I didn’t mean to be so down.”

“Not at all. I just wanted to remind you of how good you are,” you comfort him, reaching out your hand that he takes. You sit up and pull him close. “You’re so good at so many things. Remember that.”

You cup his cheeks and kiss his lips, something you realize you haven’t done since he got here. It’s slow and gentle, which is exactly what you need after a scary experience; all you’ve been wanting is his touch and the comfort you get from being close to him.

Jungkook indulges you, kissing you back with just as much tenderness, and you smile against him, knowing that whatever happens, you have him next to you. And as long as he is, there’s nothing to be afraid of.

The knock on the door pulls you both apart, and you hear the familiar voices of both your parents and siblings who all hug you one by one.

A flurry of questions about how you’re feeling and what will happen next overwhelm you but you should’ve expected this; no one really thought you’d be back here after all these years.

Shortly after, your friends arrive and you have to say the same things, and you fumble for Jungkook’s hand next to you to keep you stable.

You dislike this part - the one where everyone is worried and no answer or assurance from you would be enough, and you hate that they have to go through that anxiety of not knowing as well. But you just smile through it and downplay the pain.

“It’s probably nothing; it’s more like a precaution thing, you know?” You reason. “I’m fine. Please, don’t worry too much.”

You mask the desperation with your smile, and you’re almost glad that Dr. Kwon enters and informs you that the nurses will start prepping you for your 2D echo.

“Mr. and Mrs. Kim,” he greets. “Not so great to see both of you.”

“Likewise,” your parents chuckle. “It’s never a good thing being back here, huh? But what happened? Why is she experiencing this so suddenly?”

“Well, your daughter did say that the chest pains have been recurring,” he responds.

“They have?” Your parents frown at you.

“They weren’t that bad,” you reason. “I mean, they weren’t painful to warrant a visit.”

“But this time it was,” Seokjin crosses his arms, looking disappointed. “And to the emergency room at that.”

“I didn’t faint or anything,” you reason. “Look, I’m fine now. It’s probably just stress. ”

“___, what did I say about stress? You’re not just like anyone who can experience it and then be fine. It’s not that simple,” Dr. Kwon warns.

“I know,” you whisper, feeling like that 13-year old child again who felt helpless when she was first told of the many things she couldn’t do despite having a normally functioning heart already. You’d like to think you’ve followed all the rules since then; it’s just lately when you’ve been more brave and wanting to do more.

“But is she going to be okay?” Soyeon asks this time.

“I suppose. The test results aren’t alarming and it seems it’s still bearable, but we’ll know more tomorrow,” he responds. “For now, she just needs to rest and take things easy.”

Everyone nods in agreement. The door opens with the nurses taking you away to be prepped. Jungkook kisses your forehead and tells you to just push through it and that it will be fine; you always said you disliked the pain from this specific test.

Back in the room, Jungkook feels light-headed. Perhaps he’s still reeling over seeing you on a hospital bed, being wheeled out and leaving him behind to wonder how much pain you’re in or how your heart looks like. Maybe it’s being in the room with your family and friends and all their questions that he doesn’t have answers to. He thinks it’s this new experience for him - this kind of fear that he’s never experienced before. It’s probably all of those, so he excuses himself to buy some snacks in the store just to get out of there.

Seokjin promptly follows his brother-in-law. “I want some snacks, too,” he responds after the younger man looks at him questioningly.

They walk in silence for a while before Seokjin asks. “Did you know about the other times?”

“No,” Jungkook almost whispers, his hands in his pockets as he mindlessly walks down the hallway. “She also only called earlier after 2 tests were done. I feel so fucking useless.”

“Hey, you aren’t, okay?” Seokjin sighs.

“If I wasn’t then I should’ve known about all the other times, and I could’ve convinced her to get checked earlier. Then she wouldn’t have needed to come here like this; then it wouldn’t have been this painful,” Jungkook responds, his voice more helpless now.

“Kook, you wouldn’t have known if she hadn’t told you. You’re not together 24/7. I love my sister but sometimes she tends to brush things off like that, thinking that the short-term burden of her sickness will just go away. But not this time. We just have to believe it’s not serious.”

Jungkook just nods, all the thoughts screaming at him and he just wants to lay next to you but also be away from you because how could you keep something like this from him.

There aren’t any more words exchanged, but Seokjin stays with his brother-in-law as they buy snacks and walk towards the wing where you are, probably currently squirming in pain as your chest is being pressed to get that image of your heart.

It’s some time later when they hear Dr. Kwon’s voice, calling for them.

“Jungkook,” he says. “It’s not surgery. You don’t have to be waiting here.” There’s a soft smile on his face, however, so that calms the younger man down a little.

“Just wanted to immediately know how she is,” he responds. “___ said she doesn’t like this test.”

“Ah, yeah she doesn’t,” Dr. Kwon chuckles. “She would pout her way out of even if she knows it won’t work. She did say she wished you were there with her though, holding her hand.”

“But what did you see?” Seokjin asks.

“A tired heart,” Dr. Kwon replies. “I honestly hope that’s all, but I’ll have to look through all the test results to be sure that there isn’t anything else.”

Your husband and brother sigh in relief.

“But keep an eye on her, okay?” The doctor tells Jungkook. “She mentioned feeling pain when she’s asleep so watch out for that. She just needs to breathe and be soothed. The tests tomorrow will tell me more but I can already tell you that she needs to rest.”

“I’ll make sure of that,” Jungkook responds, his eyes softening at the sight of you smiling when you see him.

“You were waiting for me?” You ask.

Jungkook only nods but your brother responds, “everyone was so noisy in the room so we walked around. And got some snacks.”

You smile at them as they walk with you while being wheeled away to your room. You enter and sense the aroma of beef bone soup, and Minhyuk grins proudly at your satisfied face.

“You always said that hospital food didn’t excite you,” he says.

You express your thanks and the nurse announces your need to rest after dinner, prompting everyone to decide on leaving already.

Seokjin, who’d earlier sensed your husband’s own stress, whispers to him. “Just hold it in for now, okay? She’ll be alright.”

As the last parson leaves, Jungkook sits next to you on the bed and you both eat the delicious meal. He surprises you with the dessert he had bought and prepares your tea as you like to take before sleeping.

“Thank you, Kook,” you exclaim, kissing his cheek. “I’ll just wash up so we can both rest.”

“Do you need help?”

“I’m fine, I can do it in my own,” you assure him, disappearing into the bathroom.

Left alone for awhile, Jungkook takes to heart what your brother had advised him - hold it in for now. Knowing that you tend to absorb your husband’s own emotions - as you’d said once that it’s natural for you, that it’s how you get to empathize with him - he does as he’s told. He holds it in - the disappointment, the sadness, the doubt… and tells himself that this is about you and what’s best for you right now.

You finish up and he helps you in bed, then he washes himself, exiting the bathroom in his shirt and pajama pants.

“Do you want me to sleep next to you?” He asks. “You always said it’s hard to sleep without me.”

He gives the idea, knowing that it’s the only way for him to know if you feel pain while in slumber. He doesn’t think he trusts you in telling him otherwise.

“Yes, can you?” You ask excitedly.

“I guess? It’s a big bed. I’m sure we’ll fit.”

So he scoots in next to you as you give him space, and you immediately wrap your arms around his torso as he wraps one around your shoulder. He supports himself against the headboard with his other arm behind his head.

He lets you listen to his heartbeat, confident that they’re perfectly normal, as if he isn’t buzzing deep inside.

“So how was your day going before all this happened?” He asks to eliminate the silence that’s suddenly feeling awkward for him.

“I was just at the studio,” you respond, snuggling next to him and enjoying the comfort of his warm body. “I got to finish a design study and then had class with the kids.”

“Did it start hurting then?”

“Hmm, right after, just when I was fixing up,” you say, slowly dozing off.

Having your class schedule memorized because it’s your favorite thing to talk about, Jungkook knows what time that was, and he knows you could’ve informed him then if you wanted. But you didn’t.

“So you just came here on your own?”

“Yeah,” you hum. “I hailed a cab. It’s a good thing that the hospital’s just near the studio.”

What if it wasn’t, he thinks. What if you were driving when it happened? What if there were no available cabs and it took long for you to get here? What if you were somewhere else where no one knew you? What if something worse had happened, and then he wouldn’t have known it at all because you waited so long to call him?

“Why didn’t you call me?” He manages to ask.

Somehow he has an idea of what you’ll say. You’ve only been married awhile but he knows enough about your courteousness, how you don’t like to burden other people, how you always put others before yourself. You’d developed that attitude because you don’t like being fussed over; you dislike having others worry about you. He noticed it earlier when you took his hand and held onto it tightly as your loved ones asked how you were feeling. And so he knows what’s coming next. He just didn’t think it would hurt and anger him this much.

“You were busy with work, Kook,” you mumble, and he knows you’re about to fall asleep. “Felt like I could manage and I did.”

What if you didn’t, he thinks again. What if it was someone else who’d called him? What would he do then?

“Sorry,” you add. “Just didn’t want to worry you.”

He hears you take a long breath and the succeeding low snores let him know you’ve fallen asleep. It’s been a long day for you, after all.

It’s been a long one for him, too. But unlike you, he’s filled with too many emotions to fall asleep. And contrary to what you wanted, he’s worrying even more. He’s worried about your condition. And he’s worried about himself.

Hold it in for now, Seokjin had told him.

Jungkook will try. But he doesn’t know for how long he can, and he doesn’t know how he’ll deal with you - how you’ll deal with it - once he’s unable to keep it in anymore.

Jungkook didn’t get a wink of sleep. Other than being unable to because he wanted to make sure that he’d be awake should you feel any sort of pain, he also couldn’t help but think about what you’d said.

In your few years of being married, you’d had small and brief arguments, mostly stemming from how incredibly different you both deal with emotions and conflict.

You tend to be unnecessarily courteous at times and too patient. You also prefer to let tension fade rather than addressing it, so more than half the time, any negative emotions you have are kept in and rarely ever mentioned. You don’t hold grudges, though, and you easily forgive, unlike Jungkook who’s always very transparent about what he feels. He talks about things, and he always talks about them with you, whether it’s about you or something else.

Despite all this, your little misunderstandings never escalated. They never really lasted, because more than half the time, he’s the one crawling next to you, hugging you tightly and saying that he doesn’t care whose fault it is, just that he wants to be okay again. He admits that a lot of times, it’s on him. He gets too emotional, too proud, too shortsighted, and unable to let things go. But right now, he doesn’t care if he’s all of that. He’ll feel what he’s feeling; he just won’t be able to express it fully.

The knock on the door puts him out of his thoughts. The nurse enters and Jungkook has to wake you for your MRI and stress test today.

“You’ll be okay to wait here?” You ask, as you watch him from the bathroom door.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just think about what you’ll do this morning. Don’t worry about me,” he says dryly.

“Okay, I’ll see you after.”

You’re wheeled out and Jungkook allows himself to fall asleep. He’s still exhausted from preparing for his presentation yesterday, and he’s dealing with too many thoughts in his head about you, about both of you, and an hour or so of slumber is what he needs.

He’s awoken by a phone call over an hour later, and he’s reminded that he failed to inform his team that he won’t be going to the office today. Perks of being the CEO’s son, he tells himself, but he also can’t bring himself to think about work and the project that he has to fine tune for immediate implementation.

All he can think about is you. And despite feeling anger and hurt, he also just wants you to feel okay. He hopes that deal that your parents made with the universe when you were born - the one where they asked to keep you alive and they’ll give you a life you’ll be happy with in return - holds up for the longest it possibly can. Regardless of what he feels about you, he also knows that seeing you smile can make him forget about his own pain.

And that’s what happens, albeit temporarily, when you return to the room and see a breakfast spread prepared for you, one that Jungkook had asked Mr. Yu to buy.

You smell the carnations that’s come with your meal and your face lights up.

“Where did you get this, Kook?”

“There’s a flower shop in the other building,” he responds. “Thought that can make you feel better.”

“Of course,” you say, walking towards him where he’s seated on the day bed. “But you’re also here and that's really all I need.”

Then why didn’t you ask me to come earlier, the question rings in his head. But he lets it stay there. For all the times that he’d willingly and easily put you first, he didn’t think that holding all his emotions in for your sake would be the hardest.

He hugs you back then lets you rest your head on his shoulders as you talk about the tests and that you have 2 hours before Dr. Kwon can meet you for the results and diagnosis.

You and Jungkook use the time to eat, take a shower, and pack your things. It’s not long after when you’re in your cardiologist’s clinic where he explains your condition.

“As I suspected, your heart is overworking,” he says. “Fortunately, the tests show no holes, no enlargement, or any other complications.”

You breathe a sigh of relief and take Jungkook’s hand. You didn’t want to be thinking of the worst and this is definitely not it. It had hurt so much yesterday that you were almost sure there was something severely wrong again, but this is actually welcome news. At least it’s something you know; it’s something that you can deal with, and it’s something you can easily address.

“What’s causing it?” Jungkook asks.

“Stress, perhaps. And lack of sleep,” the doctor answers, turning to you. “I know you’re eating well and exercising, but there’s still so much you’re doing. All that mental and physical and emotional exhaustion pushes your heart to overwork, to pump blood more than it’s capable of doing.”

“What does this mean, then?” Your husband asks once more. “I mean, what should she do? Will it get worse? How can we prevent this from happening again?”

“She should rest. And I mean, rest.” Dr. Kwon glares at you to emphasize his point. “Take a few days off from work, do some very light exercise, and have a change in medication. It will only get worse if she doesn’t let her heart breathe, if she doesn’t let it take its time to do its job properly. I know it sounds simple but that’s really it; there’s no shortcut to it. It’s just something to be done consistently.”

“Okay,” you hum. “I can take the week off. I can just turn over my design studies at the firm and then get back to it after. And the kids will understand if I don’t see them this weekend. My exhibition also isn’t in 3 months so I have time to get back to my pieces.”

“___, I don’t mean to rest for just this week,” he responds. “You’re gonna have to rethink all the work that you’re doing because it’s too much for you, and this isn’t me telling you what you can or can’t do. Your heart is functioning normally, but it’s still relatively weak, weaker than a normal one’s. Sure, there are things you can do now that you couldn’t before but being perpetually stressed isn’t one of them, okay? And I feel that as long as you’re doing all those things at the same time, you’ll always be at risk.”

“So you’re telling me that I have to let one of those go?” You look up at him, feeling heartbroken that you’re gonna have to give up one of the things that’s been giving you so much joy.

“It’s more practical than cutting off your time in all those. It’s still work, ___. As long as you’re doing all of them, you’re gonna keep spending time on them, and you won’t even notice it.”

You sigh, knowing he’s right. You do so much on a normal day; work doesn’t end even on the weekends. It just doesn’t feel that way because you get to do it at home and you manage your own schedule and you genuinely enjoy it, but you have been feeling the exhaustion all over your body. You know there’s more to lose if you don’t follow his orders.

“Okay then. The next exhibition will be my last for a while,” you announce, deciding right then.

“Are you sure, babe?” Jungkook asks, surprised. He thought for sure that that would be the last thing you’ll let go. “Don’t you have invitations in Paris and Mexico?”

“I can pass,” you smile faintly. “I’ve still got commissions that I’ll spread out. I’m sure the patrons will understand. There’s this big project at the firm that I’m so excited to do and I can’t abandon my team. And the kids…” you sigh, “I love them too much. They take my stress away so I can’t let go of the art classes that I teach.”

“But you’ve been waiting for the shows, too,” Jungkook reminds you. “Those are huge and not easy to get invited to.”

“I know but there’s gonna be another time,” you say. “And if there isn’t, then that’s fine. I can always paint, Kook, even when I’m gray and old. But all the other things? I can still manage them. I wanna help my team, I wanna teach the kids… those things matter more.”

Other people always matter more, Jungkook tells himself. Your art is what you’ve loved your whole life, he knows that much.

“It’s really up to you, but it’s good that you’ve thought about it already,” Dr. Kwon says. “You just really need to stabilize your heart for now. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“I will,” you smile at him. “And uh, I just want to ask. This won’t affect any future pregnancies, right?”

You nibble your lips, and Jungkook can see the nervousness in your eyes.

“Not unless it’s immediate. Are you both—”

“No,” you interject. “I mean, if it happens then it does but we aren’t really… uh,” you turn to your husband, knowing that despite the last conversation you had about this months ago, you’re still unsure of how comfortable or open he is talking about this. “We haven’t planned everything out yet. But I just wanted to make sure that this whole… overworking heart thing isn’t going to risk me and our future baby. I don’t… I don’t know how I’ll handle a complication.”

“Your condition will always be a factor but you’re not in any more risk than you were before this incident,” Dr. Kwon assures you. “You don’t have to give up everything. But just always consult and make sure you rest. That's really all I can tell you.”

“I’d give it all up when I’m pregnant if I need to,” you giggle, missing the way Jungkook’s gaze saddens at your words.

Clearly that desire hasn’t waned, and the worry on your face at the thought of what this scare could mean to your future family - one that he’s still not able to give you - says a lot. But that scares him, too. Would you be open about your struggles once you’re pregnant unlike what you’re being now? Would you be honest and open? Would you let him carry your burden with you?

“Well, I guess that’s it, then,” Dr. Kwon announces, handing you the prescription of your new medication. “I’ll see you again in 2 months for your regular check-up.”

You bid your goodbye and head out, taking Jungkook’s hand as you walk to pay the bills. He doesn’t say much, merely humming to your musings the whole time - when you head to the car, on the way home, and when he decides to take an afternoon nap.

That night, after you both had food delivered for dinner and have washed up, you wait for him in bed as he sends emails to his staff. You kiss him goodnight and turn your back towards him, ready for his tight hug and his nuzzle on your neck. But he doesn’t.

He merely gently lays his hand on your hip and doesn’t pull you close. He doesn’t kiss your shoulders nor tell you he loves you or that he’ll see you in his dreams like he always does.

There’s silence where there shouldn’t be, and you slowly fall asleep to drown out the worried thoughts in your head. Maybe he’s just tired, you reason to yourself. Maybe he’s still processing what just happened. Either way, it’s just tonight, and you know your husband - he’d never been able to resist you. And you let that comfort you. Tomorrow, things will be back to normal. Tomorrow, you’ll wake up and fall asleep in his arms again.

The mid-morning sun peeking through the blinds provides you with much needed warmth that you’d missed last night. There was no arm wrapped around you, no hot breath on your neck or soft lips on your skin. It felt cold, even with the blanket covering your body, and you have half a mind to go to Jungkook’s office for that morning kiss that you didn’t get and which usually wakes you a little everyday.

But to your surprise, you hear his voice, deep and low as he gives instructions to whoever it is he’s speaking to. You get off the bed and find him in his office nook, in an online meeting with his team. As it looks, he probably decided on working from home to look after you.

You know that he has to iron out details of the new project and delegate tasks to his team. Those from the Busan and Daegu offices have to be briefed, too, and you can just imagine how much is on his plate yet he’s home because of you. Sighing, you turn around to head to the bathroom when his voice stops you.

“___? Everything okay?”

You look at him and see that he’s turned off his video, his questioning eyes greeting you.

“Yeah, just feeling a bit bad that you have to be home when you should be out there with your team,” you share. There’s a small, selfish part of you that’s glad that you get to spend time with him, though it’s not something that you say.

Jungkook shrugs. “We can manage. Are you feeling better? No pain or anything?”

“Better, yes. And no, no pain,” you reply. “Have you eaten?”

“Yeah,” he responds. “I asked Mrs. Na to stay over for the next few days since I’ll be working from home and I won’t be able to cook for you. She’s downstairs so just tell her what you want.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll go there, then,” you say dryly. You wish he could join you but then again, he’s working from home; he’s not on a break or anything.

“Just call me if you start to feel anything different.”

You nod and quickly wash up before heading to the kitchen for breakfast, chatting with Mrs. Na. It’s been a while since you’ve caught up with her, the woman who looked after you growing up.

That whole morning, Jungkook heads downstairs twice only, both times to grab coffee and ask you if you’re feeling okay. You are, and much as you want to tell him not to worry, you want him to seek you out. It seems as if that’s the only time he’s interested in speaking to you, anyway. He’s worked from home a few times and just like when he pulls all-nighters, he’d always insisted on having you close by.

Not today, though. Ironically, it seems as if he’s home to keep you at a distance. That night, he sleeps late, and so do you. You wait for him to come to bed, ready for even his slightest touch to assure you that he’s here. He does come to bed at 2AM, but the touch doesn’t come. You take a peak over your shoulder and there he is, on his side of the bed, with his back turned against you.

Jungkook insists on seeing your families that weekend - Saturday with yours and Sunday with his. Being out of the house to feel the fresh air seems quite the experience. You’ve only been cooped up in your house for a few days but you already feel like suffocating, even more with your husband’s passiveness towards you.

Just as he continued to work at home, so did his minimal conversations with you and absence of affection. He’s kissed your hand a few times and it was only because you were cupping his cheek, but he doesn’t do more, doesn’t say more. You’ve come to expect nothing from him, if you’re being honest.

You watch from the kitchen of Junghyun’s home as Jungkook speaks to Yeri, massaging his temples, and your sister-in-law, a doctor, seems to be instructing him on what to do and what to take, scribbling something on a pad and giving it to him.

You reckon that his headache hasn’t gone away, but you wouldn’t know how painful it is because there’s nothing about him now that he’s sharing. He used to pout at you to tend to a small paper cut but somehow, he just can’t bring himself to tell you how he’s feeling and where it hurts.

“You holding up okay?” Junghyun interrupts your thoughts.

“For the most part, yeah,” you respond, glancing at your husband again who’s now laid his head on the couch, his eyes closed shut.

“And the other part?” Junghyun cocks an eyebrow.

“Just worried about how stressed Jungkook is,” you sigh. “I wish he’ll give himself time to rest. He barely sleeps. I… I don’t feel him close, especially at night.”

“Well, the project is at its planning stages and he’s managing all the teams from home,” the older man explains. “And then there’s you.”

“Me, the burden,” you sigh, hating the thought.

The older man is familiar with your musings. It’s why you didn’t want people knowing about your condition; it’s why you didn’t want Jungkook to know. You always despised being someone’s baggage, and right now, Junghyun thinks it’s what you feel.

“You really scared him, you know?” He nudges your shoulder to get your attention back that’s focused on your husband. “He’s experienced a car accident, getting lost in a cave, skydiving… yet he’s never been more scared than finding out that you were in the hospital. He looked even more helpless that he wasn’t there with you. And as his brother, I was afraid of how he was gonna take it. You know how he is.”

“Exactly. He worries a lot. Too much sometimes,” you agree.

“As he should, especially since you don’t. Or at least, since you don’t show it.”

With your silence, he knows he’s right.

“You were scared, too, weren’t you?” He asks this time.

You nod, fighting back the tears. “I’d forgotten how it used to hurt. I kept thinking that it was gonna subside, you know? That it was gonna go away right away but it didn’t. And I just didn’t want him to worry too much. I didn’t want him to be scared because I was. I didn’t want him to carry that with him if there was a chance that it really was nothing. I don’t like seeing him helpless, Junghyun. I don’t like seeing him feel like he’s not enough to make it not hurt.”

“I don’t think that’s something you can control, ___. You’re his weakness. There’s nothing that scares or hurts him more than your fears and your pain. That’s kind of what love is, you know?” Junghyun continues. “That’s part of being married. And when you have children, you’ll learn that it’s part of being parents, too. You can’t be the only one carrying it all. That’s what having a partner is all about. It isn’t just you. And it isn’t just about you.”

Jungkook wakes up from the nap he didn’t realize he’s taken and finds you, wrapped in his brother’s arms who seems to be whispering something in your ear as well. He can sense it’s another one of those comforting things that Junghyun’s always given you, and while Jungkook has long accepted that special friendship you share with the man you look up to, it doesn’t take away the small bit of envy over the fact that you trust Junghyun, that you let yourself be honest with him.

It’s an accepted fact by everyone, including Seokjin who knows that his overprotective tendencies compared to Junghyun’s calm nature have led you to open up to the latter one more.

But for Jungkook to see you get comfort from someone else who isn’t him and be hurt by it makes him feel hypocritical, especially since he’s been distancing himself from you, too. He only checks up on you just so he won’t lose his mind, but he doesn’t know anything else.

Are you scared or worried? How bored are you at home? What do you wish to do? Is there a place you want to go to? Do you miss his touch as much as he misses yours? Does it hurt you to be close to him as much as it hurts him? Do you feel angry and disappointed like he is?

Jungkook wouldn’t know. He also doesn’t know how he can love someone so much yet feel so powerless, so useless, so hurt by them. Your love always made him better, but he didn’t think it would ever let him down like this.

It’s not pure jealousy he feels when you finally pull away and smile at Junghyun. It’s a mix of emotions, really. Jungkook wants to comfort you but he feels upset. He misses you but he doesn’t want to say anything that would hurt you. He wants to be the one you run to but he can’t bring himself to be close to you. He wants you to feel his love but he doesn’t know how to show it.

You meet his eyes as you turn towards the living room, but Jungkook looks away. He busies himself on his phone and keeps to himself during dinner. He holds your hand during the car ride home when you reach for him and then lets you lay his arm on your waist when you both sleep that night, with your back against his chest while he feels you still so far away.

He doesn’t get to sleep much just like every night. He worries you’d feel pain again. Somehow he wants to be alert enough to know you’re still breathing; he needs the sound of your soft snores to assure him that you’re alive, that you’re still next to him despite his unwillingness to be close.

Is this what love is like behind closed doors? He’d been surrounded by his family and yours and only seen the happy parts of it. When it came to Jungkook’s past relationships, he broke it off after the first fight because he didn’t think it was love if it hurt or made him angry like that.

But now there’s you, and even if he feels every possible negative emotion out there, all he thinks about is just how much he loves you. All he knows is that he can’t live without you. But right now, he also can’t deny that he’s upset.

Maybe love is like this, he thinks. Once the honeymoon phase has lapsed, your differences surface, and you have to learn how to navigate it all without losing yourself and the other person, without drowning in the depths of both of your shortcomings, and then coming out the other side still intact and willing to learn and grow.

Monday comes and you wake up to the sound of keyboard typing once again. Jungkook hasn’t been going to the office despite needing to physically meet the teams who’ll be working on the project, and you hate that he feels like he has to babysit you even if you’re perfectly capable of looking after yourself. Mrs. Na is home; you don’t want Jungkook to have to give up even more than he needs to.

You don’t bring it up though, not wanting to interrupt him during his incredibly busy day, as he goes from one meeting to another. It’s the next day when you wake up to the same scene that you finally suggest going back to work.

“Hun, you can go to the office, you know?” You say sleepily as you stand by the door. “I’m sure it’ll be easier to manage everything from there. I’m fine here, I promise.”

He turns towards you as he types on his phone. “And if you aren’t, would you call me?” He looks at you pointedly. “Will you let me know this time?”

They don’t seem like rhetorical questions, but they’re not something you want to answer, given the hint of bitterness in them. Jungkook says it blankly, almost devoid of emotions that it shakes you because of how unfamiliar he sounds.

You don’t answer, and he faces his laptop to continue with his work. “I’m fine here,” he repeats your words. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

You let the next 2 days pass while slowly retreating into yourself. You’re bored out of your mind but you can’t do anything remotely productive or entertaining. Much as you can sneak in time to paint, there’s no thought or inspiration that’s pushing you to create something. The TV shows suddenly seem boring without Jungkook to talk about them with, and even your books can’t keep your attention long enough past one chapter.

It doesn’t help that you can hear your husband’s frustrated groans as he gets off a phone call or as he types away. His raised voice echoes from his small office down to the living room. You want to let him rest, relieve him in some way, or comfort him like you used to do, but you don’t think any of those would be welcome. He’s told you enough with the absence of his touch that he doesn’t want any of that.

If you’re being honest with yourself, you don’t think he wants you right now either.

Jungkook surprisingly goes to bed early that evening, and he’s tucked under the covers by the time you lay next to him after a warm bath.

“You feeling alright?” He asks with his eyes still closed, as he feels the dip on the mattress.

“Yeah,” you muster enough energy to respond.

“Okay,” he hums, turning to his side away from you again and by now, you’d be surprised if he didn’t.

You turn on your side, too, content on just imagining his soft smile and the sparkle in his eyes when he speaks to you. Those have gone away somehow, and there’s a twitch in your heart that’s not caused by overworking; it’s caused by the feeling of distance you didn’t think you’d ever feel with the man you’d promised to love your whole life.

It’s afternoon the next day when you find yourself more frustrated than anything. You wanted to go to the park and get some fresh air but Jungkook insisted on going with you, commenting once more that you may not call him if something comes up. It usually takes a lot to make you irate but his snide remarks and aversion towards you have slowly been eating you up inside.

You decided against going out, not wanting to take him away from work, especially as you’d heard him raising his voice at someone on the phone, his groans echoing throughout the loft once more.

You always loved being around Jungkook. Whether he was busy at work, frustrated over something, or being needy or clingy, he makes you feel wanted. It’s the random kiss on your cheek or his loving glance or the way he’d affectionately call you ‘baby’ or when he’s finally next to you and he doesn’t want to let you go. But right now he’s being confusing - he wants to be where you are but he somehow finds it difficult to be around you, to talk to you, to look at you, to be close to you.

“You should go for a run or head to the gym or something,” you tell him from the living room when he heads down to the kitchen for a glass of water.

“Why should I?”

“So you can release your frustrations elsewhere,” you turn to him, looking him straight in the eyes but he looks away. “Your desk will break if you hit it one more time. And you’ve been snapping at your staff and that’s not how you should be treating them. Just go, take a break. Work can wait. You just need to clear your mind.”

“And if I go, would you call if something happens?”

It’s that line again, but by now it’s gotten old.

“Nothing will, and if something does, I won’t be alone,” you respond. “Yeji and Nari are coming. I asked them over, so you can go spend time on your own. I know you want to, since you can’t seem to stand me. You won’t talk to me, you won’t look at me… might as well just spend a few hours away from me.”

Maybe then you’d start missing me, you don’t say.

“Fine, I’ll go when they get here.”

He doesn’t refute, he just accepts. In your mind, that’s him agreeing. A part of you hoped he’d say you’re wrong, that you’re just imagining things, or maybe explain why he’s been acting the way he has. It isn’t like him to bite his tongue and not express himself through words. He’d never had a problem doing that, you remind yourself.

It isn’t like you to let your emotions get the better of you, too, as you let a tear fall when he heads back to your room with no other words said.

He hears your friends arrive, as not long after they do, he hurries down the stairs and walks out the door, his jacket hood over his head and his gym bag slung over his shoulder.

“Okay, talk to us,” Nari says, as she watches the exchange between you and your husband, a rare sight indeed, as all she’s known of both of you since falling in love was that unabashed joy and affection that’s infectious and heartwarming.

Folding your knees and hugging them tightly, you pout then let the tears fall. “He hasn’t held me since we got back from the hospital,” you say. “He barely talks to me, he doesn’t look at me. He’s cold and irritable and distant, l…”

You take a deep breath and lean onto Yeri’s shoulder when she pulls you for a hug. “He’s been working at home but his presence is so intimidating and tense.”

“Maybe it’s just work,” your best friend reasons as she hugs you tighter. “Isn’t there a big project that he got approved? It might just be the pressure, you know? And what happened to you is worrisome. Maybe it’s all just piling up.”

“But he’s never been like this,” you insist, sniffing and trying to find your voice. “He doesn’t just ignore me or act like I’m not around. Even with our small arguments before, he’d never spoken to me coldly or bitterly. He’s never…” you trail, feeling the ache in your heart at the newness of this, of this feeling of being unwanted or needed. “Oh god, I feel so silly. I totally sound like a spoiled, bratty, needy wife.”

“Hey,” Nari nudges you and takes you from Yeri, wiping away your tears and urging you to stop excusing your feelings. “You aren’t being silly. If he’s making you feel that way, then he should be a grown up and tell you directly why, not ignore you and make you feel bad about it. You just went through something terrifying, ___. He should be comforting and taking care of you.”

“Do you know why he’s acting that way?” Yeri asks now. “Because I feel like I do. I mean, knowing you and him, it’s not that hard to figure out.”

It’s your tear-stained face and pouty lips that give it away that you have an idea, too, and both women know that as your best friends, they need to be on your side while also knocking some sense into you.

“Why didn’t you tell him what you’ve been experiencing?” Yeri continues. “Why did you keep it all from him?”

“I thought I could just brush them off without having to make him worry,” you finally answer after a long beat of silence. “If it was nothing, then I didn’t want to burden him with unnecessary things.”

“___, we’ve talked about this,” Nari groans, frustrated because this has always been her issue when it comes to you, how you just brush things off for fear of worrying your loved ones about your condition, without realizing that you’re making the other person feel distrusted, unworthy, powerless. It’s this unnecessary courtesy that she always felt you developed as a coping mechanism because of how overprotected you were growing up, being doted on and treated like a fragile doll who couldn’t break a sweat or be inconvenienced in any way.

“It’s hard to unlearn,” you mumble, knowing what she means. The only way you felt like your illness would stop defining you was if people didn’t know it still affected you.

“So what, you’ll just let it affect your health again like this? And now your marriage, too?” She counters. “I know you don’t want it to, so unlearn it faster. And talk to him. It’s the only way.”

You nod, knowing that some days, you just need your best friends to spell out the things you already know, because somehow it makes sense when they’re the ones telling you.

You sit in between them, anxious about how you’ll face Jungkook when he returns. You were never good at this, and during the few times you and your husband had fought, he’d been the one to initiate talking and working things out, insistent to hold onto your promise to each other of not sleeping until you’ve resolved your issues, no matter how late it already is. But now, he seems to be the one who’s letting it drag on, not wanting to address it or even acknowledge it.

Nari and Yeri help you prepare dinner, as you’d let Mrs. Na go home to attend to family matters. The stew smells amazing, but to be honest, you don’t really have the appetite for it.

They leave after cleaning up, and you’re left with your own thoughts in the quiet of the loft that’s gotten colder, lonelier the past week.

Your heart leaps out of your chest at the sound of the door opening, and you watch in pain as Jungkook merely walks past you and heads towards the stairs.

“Kook, talk to me,” you beg, voice low yet desperate. “Please. I can’t do this anymore.”

This stops him in his tracks and he turns around, his jaw clenched and his eyes unreadable.

“I can’t,” he says, turning away.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to say things I’ll regret. Because I’m angry and upset and I can’t express any of that when you can have another relapse or something.”

“I don’t care,” you exclaim. “Say whatever you want to, and say it now. Because that’s way better than you blatantly ignoring me. Your hurtful words would be better than none at all.”

“Yeah, because I’m the one who’s hurting you, right?” He says, his voice getting louder now. “I’m the one who doesn’t trust you, who’s not honest with you, who keeps secrets and shit… I’m the one who’s at fault for worrying about you being in pain and then being upset that you kept it all from me. Right? You’re the only one who’s hurting? And not me?”

“That’s not what I meant,” you huff, feeling the tears pool in your eyes again.

Jungkook decides against saying something, exhaling deeply instead and massaging his temples as he paces around the living room.

“I was in that fucking room presenting some fucking project while you were in the ER, all on your own, taking tests and just waiting to be told if your illness is back,” he says, seemingly restraining himself.

“If I could spare you the worry, I would,” you argue. “I just wanted to make sure that it wasn’t anything serious before—”

“Before calling?” He scoffs. “You’re my wife and I won’t forgive myself if anything bad happens to you! So what, you were just gonna wait there for bad news and not let me be there for you? What if it was worse and you didn’t manage to get in a cab? What if the hospital was far away and you fainted? What if something was wrong with your heart again? And then I wouldn’t have been there because you didn’t fucking call! Because I didn’t know you were experiencing all that in the first place! Because of all the things that you chose to keep from me, it was this. As if hiding it from me our entire lives wasn’t enough.”

There it is, all the what-ifs in Jungkook’s mind that he’s always been so scared of. He’s never brought himself to envision you in any sort of pain but then you were, and the intense fear of what could’ve happened swam in his mind, and there’s nothing worse than feeling powerless to protect the love of his life from all that.

“If this is about you feeling guilty that you’re not able to do anything–”

“Fuck it is! That and more!” He yells, the frustration overtaking him. “Don’t you get it? I can’t stand you in pain, and I can’t stand it when you feel like you have to bear it on your own, like you have to spare me or something. Yeah, I’m fucking terrified, but I’m still your husband. And you tell me these things,” he heaves. “I’m sorry I worry, or that I overreact or become dramatic and overly cautious, what do you expect? But you can’t hide this from me. I can’t not be your first call. That’s not fucking fair.”

“Kook, honey, I’m sorry,” you cry, trying to reach out for him but he pulls his arm away.

“Are you? You knew what you were doing, ___. You chose not to tell me the first time, and the next, and the one after that. And I had to fucking learn it from my brother again and I just…” Jungkook stops, and you look at him to see that he’s crying, the pain in his eyes so piercing that it’s probably gonna haunt you for days.

“I know you’ve always turned to him and he’s someone you can be honest with but… why can’t you trust me that way?”

“You know that’s not it,” you try to explain. You know that as much as you can reason that you only called Junghyun because Jungkook wasn’t picking up your calls, your husband would argue that you could’ve called way earlier, and he’d be right.

“Then what is it, ___?” He asks, and you realize that the most painful thing he can say is calling you by your name.

“You… you’re always the first for me,” he continues. “Whatever I’m feeling, whatever I did that day, you’re the first person I think about, the one I need to tell everything to; you’re always my first call. It’s always you because we promised each other. Through the good and the bad, it’s me and you. And keeping that promise was never hard because I want it to be you. Because I trust you. And to realize that it’s not the same with you just fucking sucks, okay?” He huffs, sounding defeated.

“What else are you not telling me? That you’re taking more art classes because being with those kids compensates for us not yet having our own because I’m fucking terrified of what that would mean for your health? I mean, how the hell can we have our own kids if you can’t even communicate with me? If you can’t even tell me what you’re feeling? If you don’t even trust that I’ll do everything to ease your pain and be there for you? How could you think that anything else is more important than you are?”

The sob that escapes you is immediate. The scene feels familiar, as the last time you’d cried this hard in front of Jungkook was years ago, in this exact spot, but this time, you know this is on you.

His words should be comforting - he loves you, and he loves hard, he loves openly, bravely, unapologetically. But all you can see is the hurt in his eyes. And all those times that you promised yourself that you wouldn’t let your illness define you feels stupid and hypocritical now, because here you are, hurting the man you love because you wanted to carry the burden on your own. But as you’re learning, being someone’s partner means sharing all that with them, and trusting that you’ll pull through together.

Jungkook watches you cry and this feels familiar, too. He never really fully got to remove this very scene from years ago out of his mind no matter how hard he tried. Nothing hurts him more than seeing you like this, but much as he wants to hold you in his arms, he’s afraid to find out that it wouldn’t be enough.

“I’m not really hungry,” he finally says, changing the subject because he honestly can’t bear talking some more. “I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight.”

He turns around and heads towards the hallway and closes the door, leaving you rooted on the ground to watch him walk away.

There’s a different kind of pain that’s filling your entire body. The one caused by your illness is purely physical, as if you could feel it only the very structure of your organ - it’s straightforward and familiar, something that medication and a few breaths could relieve.

But the one you’re feeling now is different - you feel it all over. There’s a ringing in your head of all the things that Jungkook had said. Your mind is going through all the times he’d called you first, or put you first, or followed through his promise of sharing his world and his heart and his soul with you. There’s that feeling of something missing - his fingers in between the spaces of yours, his arms around your waist, his soft lips against your own. There’s that absence of the affectionate tone of his voice and his boyish laughter, and it’s like without those, you can’t hear anything at all.

The past week has felt like a month of being without him, or at least, being without his comfort and security. It’s like being stripped off of your basic necessities - everything is hard without him, everything is worthless and unhappy and incomplete without him.

Is this what it feels like when you carry everything on your own? When you restrain yourself from sharing your fears and your burdens and your pain with someone else? Because sharing the joy - the good things - doubles it; and now you know that sharing the bad things increases it, too.

You sigh and wipe your tears, thinking of how much more you need to learn about love and marriage and being someone’s lifelong partner. Your grandmother once said you’re so full of love, and you wonder how you could’ve possibly failed at giving it to the person you love the most.

Knees bent against your chest, you hug yourself for that warmth you need, but you aren’t enough for it, as you should know by now. On the other side of the door in the hallway is the person you need, the person you want, the person you love, and there’s no way that you’re going to let him sleep all alone tonight.

Mustering up the courage, you get on your feet and stand outside the room. You want to keep a promise this time, about not sleeping until you’ve both resolved the issue, or at least made up somehow. You don’t want him to go through even just one night thinking that you don’t care enough to face him, to be uncomfortable, to be accountable, because you are. And you want him to know that.

The door creaks open and you find Jungkook in bed, lying on his back with one arm over his eyes. It’s already been half an hour and you’d be surprised if he’s still crying. But you don’t miss his clenched jaw and fist, the frustration clearly still evident.

You walk towards the other side of the bed and slowly position yourself - close enough for the distance not to feel too much, but far enough for him to still pull away.

You reach out for his hand and he flinches a little, but when you uncurl his fingers so you can caress them, he lets you. The sight of your name tattooed on his finger makes you cry again.

He doesn’t like playing soccer or hitting the gym with his ring on, but he doesn’t want - “even for a second,” he’d said - for there to be no trace of your marriage on him. “Seeing it makes me smile,” he’d told you. “I got to marry the prettiest woman on earth and I know when what I do is over, she’ll be there waiting for me.”

Jungkook has always put you first, in every sense possible. Junghyun told you once that his brother has always sought a high from being reckless, from doing what he wanted, when he wanted, but he’s never wanted to do anything right as much as when it comes to loving you.

“I don’t have an excuse for how I handled things, and I handled them pretty terribly,” you start, your voice shaking. “I never got to outgrow that selfishness, that need to always prove to everyone that I can handle things on my own. And it’s because of that that I hurt you, Kook. It’s because of that that you’re feeling like I don’t trust you, that you’re not my first call. And I’m so, so sorry.”

His lips quiver, and he nibbles them to keep himself from sobbing again.

“I’ve needed help and assistance for more than half of my life and that feeling of weakness frustrates me; it makes me uncomfortable because I don’t like burdening others. And you’re right, I’ve been unfair to you; I’ve been unfair to us. It’s this fear of disappointing you, of seeing you scared that makes me think that you don’t need to know trivial things like that and I was wrong. I’m so wrong, Kook,” you continue.

“Because all I’ve wanted this past week was to be with you and tell you I’m scared, that I miss you, that I wish you could comfort me, that I’m so bored and that I want to go out but I want to go out with you. I wanna tell you that my students sent a video, hoping that I’m feeling better and that they’ll be waiting for me. I wanna tell you that I learned how to make egg noodles, and that I’m craving pork soup. I wanna tell you that the medication and rest are working because the chest pains are gone but the palpitations are few and far in between now.”

Wiping your tears, you see that Jungkook is pressing his arm harder on his eyes, and the way he heaves tells you that he’s crying just as much as you are.

“You’ve always tried to understand me and give me my space,” you say. “You’re patient when I don’t open up right away. You make sure to make things easy for me, that I always feel protected and loved and I don’t ever want to take that for granted, Kook. I want to be better; I’ll do better. I’ll love you much better. I just—”

Dark, glassy eyes that are looking at you cut you off, and you see the sadness in them, the care and affection and apology and forgiveness. And somehow, this makes you cry even more.

Jungkook gently nudges your hand that’s still holding his, and it’s your cue to throw yourself next to his side, your arms immediately wrapping around his torso. He’s warm and safe like you remember, even more when he tightens his hold after you cry harder, with your head laid on his chest.

You can hear his breathing and his occasional sniffles. You try to inhale his scent with your stuffy nose, but even if you barely can, you know he smells like comfort, and like always, he smells like home.

“I don’t like it when you cry,” he says softly after a while. “Doesn’t crying make you palpitate or something?”

“A little,” you respond, peeking up at him. His eyes are drier now, but they’re focused on the ceiling. “It was faster earlier but it’s slowed down now.”

“I’m sorry,” he turns to you. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to say those things the way I did.”

“Don’t be,” you respond, wiping your tears. “I had to hear them, and I don’t blame you for how they came out, either.”

“I… I don’t think I’m angry anymore but I’m still upset,” he says softly, apologetically. “I wish I wasn’t but I just…” he trails.

“It’s okay,” you look at him and smile. “I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry. Take your time. I’ll just be in our room.”

“Okay,” he mumbles.

He kisses your forehead, and the feel of it is all you really need to assure you.

It’s not ideal. You wish you could sleep next to him, maybe talk about how the past week has been or apologize some more. You don’t want to focus on the fact that this would be the first time that you’d sleep separately. It happens, you tell yourself. You’d rather that he’s honest with you like this, something you couldn’t be to him and you owe him his own space and time.

You kiss his cheek and get off the bed. “I’ll leave the stew in the oven in case you get hungry. Good night, Kook,” you say, and head out the door.

You settle for fruits for dinner, barely having an appetite as well. You take a long, hot bath and think of all you’ve done, where you went wrong, and what you can do after all this. You meant what you said that you’re going to be better. You always knew you were lacking in many things; you’ve been told that communication isn’t your strongest suit. But you can’t let the doubts creep in because you know Jungkook, and you know you. The last thing you’ll ever doubt is how much you love each other.

Maybe love is like this, you think to yourself. It hurts because it matters, and people fight because there’s something to fight for but it’s the kind of fight where nobody loses. You and Jungkook are different people and maybe that’s why it works the way it does, but it also doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t constantly work hard to meet each other in the middle. He does, and you will, even harder than before. Being loved by Jungkook is a gift, and being able to love him is a privilege.

You think about this even more as you lay in bed. It’s colder without him next to you; it feels empty. But you can sleep well knowing he’s taking his own time just downstairs, hopefully missing you, too.

He asked you to trust him. You always thought that was easy and that it just meant being faithful, that he wouldn’t hurt you. You realize now it’s more than that; that despite the fights and the fears and the tears, it’s trusting that you’re both going to be okay.

You fill your mind with Jungkook’s smile, knowing that maybe in a few days, you’ll be blessed with that sight again. You don’t know how many scenes and memories you’ve gone through when you feel a dip on the mattress next to you and Jungkook’s arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you close to him. He nuzzles your neck like he always would, and though he doesn’t say or do anything else, you know that this is his way of telling you that he trusts you, too. That he trusts both of you.

Maybe love is like this - it's when you hold each other the tightest after a fight; it’s when you pull the other close even if neither of you wants to say anything; it’s when you’re upset but not enough to spend a night apart. Maybe it’s when you can be honest about being mad but not doubting the other person’s devotion.

Jungkook’s warm breath against your skin eases your mind and your heart, and you know that whatever happens tomorrow, you’ll wake up with him next to you. It’s been a tough week and a hard night but you think that maybe, this is when you learn to love each other even more.

Series Masterlist

Permanent Taglist:@sherlynxx @di0rgguk @thequeen-kat @fan-art-ic @cravingforhotchocolate @adoraminie @helenazbmrskai@weasleyswizarding-wheezes @preciouschimine @gukssunshine@nch327 @kookxin @petuliii @yoursthv @libra04@fancycollectormoon @twixxxpie @ignoretheskies @ohmydarlin-g@bids97 @minyoongiboongi @main-bangtansmauyeondan @bora-bae7 @investedreader

Series Taglist: @apolluke @koremis @daydreambrliever@moonchild1 @loolylily @topanga27 @ppeachyttae @bbtsficrecs@lilyflowerguk @drumsofheaven @mrcleanheichou @princessswan

#jungkook fic #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #husband jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook series #please love me

705 notes · View notes